Hear me out. So Dick and Jason have always known languages. Dick from his time traveling with the circus and Jason from his time sneaking into the library and devouring all types of books when he was still on the streets.
And because of this, they could connect more easily due to their shared love of language. (Cannon can kiss my ass thank you very much.)
They made it a point to learn new languages together, so much so that they even passed Bruce in the number of languages they knew and spoke.
This is the driving factor that brings them close when Jason comes from the whole dead and resurrected drama.
The problem comes that they think everyone speaks the same languages. Like they'll be speaking English one minute then the switch it up to Swahili because they forgot a word in English and then carry on speaking in a different language until they forget a word again and change languages.
Bruce is the only one who can mildly keep up with them, but other than that his completely lost because of the shear speed the switch up the language.
It gets irritating when they're all at the dinner table and the two oldest forget the names of simple things. Like salt.
"Hey Demon spar. Pass the *snaps fingers as he tries to remember the name* the 鹽 (jim4) [Cantonese]."
And poor Damian is so lost so he looks to Dick and Dick goes "άλας (álas) [Greek]" as if that's any better. And the poor baby is just so confused, so he looks to his baba because his baba should know but his baba also looks confused. And Alfred, bless his soul knows Greek so he goes, "The salt Master Damian. Master Jason is asking for the salt."
And the whole table is also very confused and irritated by this whole exchange.
When the eldest two argue, it's explosive and physical and confusing because of the mess of languages, and the only time you hear a spark of English is when one has a black eye and the other has a nose bleed and their both laying on their backs and the only words exchanged is, "Fuck you dickface." and, "Love you too Jay."
They hug it out then throw the middle finger over their backs, limp out the room and opposite ways of the hallway.
All this happens in the full view of the family and nobody asks what words were exchanged, nobody asks what they were fighting about, they just sit shell shocked, each and everytime.
Except Bruce, who gets majority of what was said. He sits with his head in his hands and let's out a dispointed sigh. "All this ruckes because of cake." He stands so he can go call his therapist (Clark).
186 notes
·
View notes
Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.
"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."
"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"
Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"
"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."
"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."
Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."
"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."
"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.
Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.
For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"
"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."
"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"
"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.
"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"
"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."
The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.
---
They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.
"You're on time," he says.
Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."
"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."
"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.
"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"
They start with dice, with a character sheet.
"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.
He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."
"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."
"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.
"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."
"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."
"Migraines?"
"Head trauma."
"Byers?"
"And Hargrove."
"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.
"Hit me in the head with a plate."
"What the fuck."
"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."
Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.
"We've been through some shit together."
"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."
"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."
"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."
"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"
"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.
"Completely," Steve admits.
"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."
---
They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.
It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.
It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."
"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"
Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."
"But--"
"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.
Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."
"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.
---
Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.
It doesn't.
Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.
"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"
Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.
"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.
Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."
"Can I do anything?"
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Sorry?"
"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"
"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.
"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.
"Yo--you did?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.
"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."
"Shut-up," Steve laughs.
"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.
The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.
"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.
"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.
"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.
Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.
"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.
"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.
4K notes
·
View notes