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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

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AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk idk idk I just think life has a lot of weird intricacies and sometimes we are connected in ways we don’t know until one tiny thing #happens and suddenly we realize #and I think in any universe Steve and Eddie would find a way #headcanon

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loveinhawkins · 10 days

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Underneath the hum of the RV, Steve asks Eddie for directions to The War Zone.

Steve does not need directions. Eddie knows this, because when he’d shown it on the map, drumming his fingers restlessly, Steve had leant over his shoulder and muttered, “Got it,” with such confidence, like he’d committed it to memory within seconds.

Eddie slides into the passenger seat anyway.

“Isn’t this kinda… stupid?” he says hesitantly, gesturing to himself and the front window. Sure, the roads are quiet now, but…

“Don’t worry, I’ll push you off if anyone gets too close,” Steve says with mock gravity.

It makes Eddie laugh. “Thanks, very gallant of you.”

He still hasn’t given a single direction.

“You’re not, by the way,” Steve says casually, as he makes another turn.

“Uh, not what?”

“Living up to a name.”

Eddie looks away. “That was a joke.”

“Right.”

“It was.”

“I know,” Steve says quietly. “Just…” He shrugs with one shoulder. “Just so you know.”

“I do,” Eddie says, clipped. Bites his tongue—hates that he gets like this whenever…

“Okay,” Steve says, still so patient; Eddie can’t understand it. “You’re not really living up to the whole freak thing either.”

Something in Eddie’s stomach relaxes: this, at least, is slightly safer territory.

“Sorry to disappoint, Steve.”

“Yeah.” Steve heaves a huge sigh like it’s an actual problem. He’s smiling through it. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re painfully normal.”

Eddie scoffs. “S’not what others would say.”

“Fuck them,” Steve says cheerfully.

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that. Just sits in silence as they get closer and closer to The War Zone. Feels inadequate.

He wants to say something, at least—wants to speak through the nerves that keep surging back, wants to stumble through an apology, look, I’m sorry I’m such a mess when you’re so—

“Hey,” Steve says like it’s an ordinary day, like he’s asking to borrow a pencil in class. “Wanna talk when we’re not, like, terrified out of our minds?”

But you’re, Eddie starts to think.

Then he sees Steve’s hands on the wheel, gripping tight. Recalls the sharpness in his eyes as he read the map. How he said, “Got it,” like a vow.

“Please?” Eddie says. Can’t stop the word from going up in question, you can take it back, I won’t—

Steve nods.

They’re swinging into the parking lot, and instead of him pushing Eddie off the seat, it’s more of a gentle nudge.

Eddie hides round the back of the driver’s seat, one knee to his chest.

Steve catches his eye halfway out the door. He winks. “Great navigating.”

And as Eddie waits for his return, he thinks about it. All of it. Middle school and everything that came before; dropping his plate in the cafeteria and feeling all those eyes on him, the anxiety suffocating, that they could read it on his face somehow, yeah his dad’s in jail, kid’s a mess…

Maybe Eddie will tell Steve Harrington everything.

#have a tiny little RV scene rewrite #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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grandwretch · 1 year

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a scene with absolutely no context just hit me v intensely out of nowhere but. imagine a world where Steve's dad is just a little more powerful, a little darker, than in canon. and this mr. harrington doesn't know his son has spent the last five years fighting for survival, so when he finds out steve has been running around with the munson boy, he thinks it'll be an easy fix. steve has always been a soft sell.

he gets a call from steve, his son's voice giving him no time to even answer: "you pull that shit again, I'm sending the next one home in a body bag."

before he can even put down the phone, dial tone already ringing on the other side, he gets the message that the heavy he sent to intimidate eddie munson is in their medic's office with two spiral fractures and a shattered kneecap.

maybe steve could have gone into the family business after all.

#shut up az #steddie #ofc #oh and violence cw #I feel like Steve doesn't fight like a normal person #I think he fights a person like he fights monsters post s4 #and I think it would be a lot of stomping and twisting like he did w the bats hence the poor henchman's injuries #idk just imagine Steve stomping out a dude's knees #tell me you aren't just a tiny bit compelled

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

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halpdevon · 2 years

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saw a tiktok where someone was showing off different cropped shirts and i just know in my heart eddie would have a bunch that he chopped up himself. robin and steve are there for moral support

#devon draws #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #robin is also there just to rib at steve for staring just a little too long #that tiny bit of exposed middrift could kill a man #steddie

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rainbow-nerdss · 1 year

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"How come you never talk to me about sports?"

It's late in the afternoon on a lazy Sunday, and they're just curled up on the couch together. Eddie's got a book in one hand, and he's carding the fingers of his other through Steve's hair. Steve's got the sports pages from the morning paper in his lap, and he's looking through it idly.

He stops when he hears Eddie's question, though, cranes his neck back to look at him.

"Huh?"

"How come you never talk about sports? I just realised I don't even know what teams you support." Eddie dog-ears his book and sets his book aside as he asks.

Steve frowns. "But… you don't care about sports. Like, at all. Why would I bore you by talking about it?"

"Are you bored when I talk about D&D?” Eddie asks, hand stilling in Steve’s hair. Steve shakes his head. “I tell you about my sessions all the time. I tell you about the books I'm reading and music shit, and you always listen to me. You don't really care about any of that stuff, either."

Steve shakes his head. "Yeah, but that’s different,” he tries to argue.

“How so?”

Steve wracks his brain for the words to describe it. “I like listening to you talk about D&D because you get so excited. I like hearing you talk about something you care about."

Eddie smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead. He looks almost smug, like he’s won a debate Steve hadn’t even realised he was part of.

"So let me ask again. Why don't you talk about sports more?"

Steve is quiet, staring at nothing in the distance as he puts the pieces together.

"I never... Nobody ever.... I mean, except Lucas, but Robin and Dustin always rolled their eyes when I made references to it, so..."

Eddie cups Steve’s face and looks him in the eye. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't know. What's the drama right now? How's your team doing in the league or the championship or whatever it's called? Tell me about the last game you saw on TV! I wanna hear you talk about your interests, too."

Steve feels warmth burst in his chest as he sets the newspaper aside.

Eddie leans back against the couch, watching fondly as he listens. Steve is hesitant at first, stumbling over his words. A little voice in the back of his head keeps tripping him up, telling him Eddie doesn't care about any of this and you're boring him, wrap it up.

Every time he lets the voice win, though, every time he stops talking, trails off, or tries to change the topic to something Eddie might enjoy more, Eddie asks him a question.

"What does that rule mean?"

"How does team selection even work?"

"What would your dream line-up look like right now?"

And Steve answers. And Eddie listens.

When Eddie finally runs out of questions, Steve's surprised by how happy he is.

"You're really cute when you talk about sports, you know that right? Your face lights up with it."

Steve leans in and kisses Eddie. "I love you."

"Love you too, babe. I really do."

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie hc #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #because steve deserves to have people show an interest in his hobbies too #unfortunately i know jack shit about sports can you tell?#anyway jock steve rights #eddie loves steve and that includes wanting to hear him talk about his favorite things #maybe someday eddie will persuade steve to play d&d and steve will get eddie into some tiny gym shorts to play some 1v1 #and they'll both love it because they love spending time together #they may not fully understand each other's interests but they do their best #because they LOVE EACH OTHER #anyway thank you and goodnight

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mintcakeart · 5 months

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Man With A Lyre by JC Leyendecker Man With A Guitar by Jam ft The Transgenderification Beam

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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The first interaction with Steve Harrington that Eddie can actually remember, was being punched in the face. Selective memory is a bitch, because had he remembered the whole story maybe some things would be different.

if he'd remembered the whole story, that Steve did in fact punch him in the face, pretty damn hard too, but...

He'd at first saved him from a much bigger bully, a bully who was calling him mean names and pushing him around, scrunching up his D&D notes and throwing them across the grass.

He'd have remembered Steve telling him not to listen to them as he picked up a few of Eddie's rumpled notes from the floor once the bully had left, carefully trying to flatten them out to remove the creases then offering them to him, he'd have remembered rudely snatching them back, asking why he shouldn't, why shouldn't he listen? rudely asking "what's it to you anyway?" because he was upset and defensive and generally had his hackles raised at ALL times during his first year in Hawkins.

He'd have remembered Steve... fiddling with his own fingers as he spoke, "Cause some people like guys like that. I mean. Nerdy guys, nerdy people. Some people like them."

"Yeah, like who?" so far Eddie hadnt really made many friends.

"I mean... I like you..."

He'd have remembered, that in his infinite, defensive, middleschool wisdom, that to Steve's quiet, bashful confession, he'd snapped about how gross that was.

And then he'd watched Steve's beautiful face contort into panic, and sadness, and THEN Steve decked him, right in the nose, walked away, and promptly refused to speak to him again up until that stupid boat house.

The only problem is, he still doesnt actually remember the whole story, and unfortunately despite his best efforts to flirt and charm the man who dragged his ass bleeding out of Hell.

Steve does.

The Fic!

#Steddie #shitpost #idk i just had this #image of tiny steve #telling Eddie he liked him #only for eddie to ruin it all

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haunt-i-ng · 1 year

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PLACEBO, WITHOUT YOU I’M NOTHING

1998 Australasian rerelease, Elevator Music Ltd.

#if you look close enough down by the barcode there's a tiny little kangaroo logo #placebo #brian molko #stefan olsdal #steve hewitt #alternative rock #glam rock #my scans

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steveharringtondaily · 4 months

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STEVE HARRINGTON 2.03 "The Pollywog"

#steve harrington #stranger things #steveharringtonedit #strangerthingsedit #stedit #usersen #usermaguire #userallisyn #userridge #userkam #userspree #userashe #tvstrangerthings #dailystrangerthings #s2 #gif #*#by tiny

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emblazons · 7 months

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SIX YEARS OF STRANGER THINGS 2 ⤷ behind the scenes of season 2 (from rossduffer)

#happy 6 years of S2!!#!! I love that they're a tiny bit online now #finn wolfhard #joe keery #sadie sink #caleb mclaughlin #gaten matarazzo #noah schnapp #mike wheeler #will byers #barbara holland #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #st bts #st cast #st crew #stranger things #dailystrangerthings

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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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Now with a part two!

There’s a guy that comes to the cafe Eddie’s working at. Every other day, he comes to the counter, smiles at Eddie and gives him a post-it with “hi, an americano with two sugars please :)” written on it. He has a different color of post-it assigned for every day. Eddie smiles back and makes the americano, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest.

Needless to say, the guy is insanely cute. He has swoopy chestnut hair, droopy, almost puppy-like eyes, and two moles on his neck that make him look like he’s been bitten by a vampire. Eddie’s not sure if he finds it more adorable or sexy; either way, he’s definitely developed a crush. And now, after months of trying to gather up his courage to say hi, after months of pining and staring from afar... He’s still nowhere near ready to talk to him. And Chrissy’s not letting him live it down.

“You’re insufferable,” she whispers to him frantically when the guy comes through the door on the first Monday of December. “Do something more than smile dumbly or I’ll fire you.”

“You can’t fire me,” Eddie hisses back as he tries to dust pastry crumbs off of his shirt.

“I’m the manager. I can do whatever I want,” she chirps back and goes on to cleaning the machines that don’t need to be cleaned, because Eddie did that twenty minutes ago.

The guy comes to the counter. There are snowflakes in his hair, big and soft. Eddie thinks that they compliment his eyes—then he realizes that it’s a weird thing to notice about a stranger.

The stranger smiles. Eddie smiles back. Today’s post-it is light purple.

Eddie makes the americano. It’s muscle memory at this point, he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing until he has to force a lid onto the cup and serve it to his customer. Hell, whatever. He grabs a sharpie and bends down to drabble something on the cup, trying not to spill the coffee. He manages to draw an ugly looking snake that was supposed to be a dragon, cringes, writes “Have a nice day!” underneath it and prays that it isn’t too weird.

Of course it is. But, miraculously, the guy looks at it, huffs a tiny laugh and smiles right at Eddie and – yeah, whatever, curse him – the whole room lights up. Yes, it’s sappy. Sue him. He could be sappy for this guy—if the guy wanted it.

He takes his coffee and leaves, but before he crosses the threshold, he turns back and waves at Eddie, using only three fingers. It’s a small wave, but a wave nonetheless, so Eddie sends him his best grin and waves back.

When he’s finally out, Eddie bends over the counter and groans. Chrissy pats him between the shoulderblades, mocking sympathy. “You’re on probation,” she whispers. Eddie groans once again. This is hell.

***

He has to call in sick on Wednesday. Now that he’s thinking about it, he kind of knew that the mayo smelled funny and it wasn’t good anymore. But he’s a broke college student and he had a choice: stale bread with mayo and a slice of tomato, or just stale bread with a slice of tomato. These weren’t even real choices. It was suffering or suffering.

Apparently, he’d chosen double suffering, and he had a whole night of hurling to prove it. Good thing he doesn’t have to send Chrissy any photos of what he had to deal with – when he calls, she cuts him off with “Just take my afternoon shift tomorrow and we’re even. You’ll miss out on your cutie, it’s a punishment in and of itself,” and goes on with her day.

Eddie’s so grateful for Chrissy. He wouldn’t get anywhere without her.

***

Eddie doesn’t expect his guy to come on Thursday, it isn’t his regular schedule, so he’s in for a surprise when his morning shift ends and turns into Chrissy’s afternoon shift, and then, some time later, his guy comes in—and he’s not alone.

He’s with a girl. With a pretty, pretty girl, who has beautifully curly brown hair, inquisitive eyes and kind but determined expression on her face. There’s something quite unique about her; Eddie thinks, briefly, that she looks like she’s from another era. Like if they were living in the 80s, she would have a perm, wear bold lipstick and have a whole wall of degrees and certificates in her office. She seems to be destined for great things. She’s a badass.

Eddie’s nothing like her. He tries to swallow down the jealousy as they near the counter. His – his? – guy looks surprised, but smiles either way, his eyes lighting up in a matter of seconds.

“Hi,” the girl says. Her own smile is so nice and warm Eddie can’t stay mopey for too long. “I’ll have a latte with two shots of espresso, and…”

She turns to the guy beside her, but Eddie doesn’t have to know the answer. “An americano with two sugars. On it.”

Their eyes lock for a second. The guy seems a bit shy, but he’s still smiling. Eddie counts that as a win. But he’s still quick with their coffees. He can sense the staring contest they’re having even while he has his back turned to them. He kinda wants them gone, but they didn’t ask for to go, so he just tries to stay calm. Focused. Sharp.

Fortunately, he doesn’t spill anything. They get their order and sit in a corner. It doesn’t look like a date, they pull out books and notes, scribble and sign from time to time. The girl clearly knows more than just the basics of ASL, unlike Eddie. Since the guy started showing up, he’s been trying to learn more about it, but now he makes a mental note to enroll on a course. It’s time to commit – to what, exactly, he’s not sure. But he’s gonna make it happen.

Hours pass, but they stay in the same position. Eddie steals a glance every now and then, trying not to let his jealousy get to the surface again, but it’s hard. The guy is cute, the girl is smart and beautiful. He decides to call Chrissy on his way home – if he has to pine, she’ll suffer with him.

The end of his shift is nearing when he hears a giggle from the godforsaken corner. He looks up from the cups he’s been rearranging and sees that it’s his guy’s girl who’s laughing. She’s laughing at yet another girl, who’s standing outside and drawing hearts on the dirty window. She has a goofy grin on her face, one that makes her eyes and her prominent cheekbones pop even more, and it’s the same grin that the girl inside is wearing at the moment.

Now, Eddie doesn’t know a lot about love, but he definitely recognizes heart eyes when he sees them. He smiles to himself – don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

His guy looks exasperated about being completely ignored, so he taps the glass a few times. The girl outside looks at him, shocked, like she’s only just seen him now, sticks out her tongue at him, and goes back to blowing kisses at her girlfriend. The guy looks truly wounded. Eddie snorts; the dynamic here is immaculate.

In the meantime, the not-his-guy's girl has gathered her things and prepared to leave. She kisses his cheek on her way out, but the guy stays put, bending over his papers again. Eddie thinks it’s quite interesting. Then, he makes a plan.

When he��s done with work, his guy is still there. Which is perfect. Eddie fixes his hair one last time, trying to gauge whether his outfit is metal enough (it is) for the occasion, and grabs the americano with two sugars he’s made.

It’s alright. Everything’s alright.

His wildly beating heart isn’t so sure about that.

When he gets to his guy’s table, he sets the piece of paper on it first. “Looks like you’re swamped – it’s on the house,” it says. The guy looks up, surprised, his mouth opened in a tiny oh. His eyes go wide for a moment and then he smiles. Something warm settles inside Eddie’s chest.

The guy picks up a pen and writes “Thank you!!!” on Eddie’s piece of paper, but before giving it back, he changes his mind. “I’m Steve,” he scribbles, and then gives it back with a flash of smile.

He smiles a lot. It’s an amazing sight.

“Hello, Steve. I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you,” Eddie replies. “What are you working on?” he adds after a second, because he’s feeling bold and he really doesn’t want to go yet.

The guy – Steve – sighs. He makes some room on the loveseat he’s occupying and pushes his books to the middle. Eddie takes it as a cue to sit down. Their knees bump, Eddie gets goosebumps, but he doesn’t move away. Neither does Steve.

“I’ve got an assignment on modern fantasy and its mythological origins, but I’m not as nerdy as my friends so I’m struggling a bit. Nance helped, but she’s not an expert either and my other nerdy friends went for a trip. Maybe you have any experience?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide and he bounces with excitement, nodding his head along the way. “YES,” he writes, all caps, and Steve huffs another laugh. They look at each other then, Eddie all hyped and ready, Steve—soft? There’s no other way to describe it. His gaze is gentle, almost caring. Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

His phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket. He checks it – it’s Chrissy. She’s got her period and she’s out of tampons.

“Shit,” he mumbles. Steve bumps their shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Eddie picks up the pen. “Tiny emergency, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

He knows that his hopeful stare must seem desperate, but Steve reads his reply, looks up and smiles, nodding. Eddie wants to scream victory, but he only nods back and gets up instead. When he’s about to turn and leave, he feels fingers wrap around his hand, delicate but firm. Slowly, Steve opens up his hand and writes something on it.

It’s a phone number. “In case you get sick again :)”

Eddie can’t hold back his dopey smile any longer. When he looks at Steve, the corners of his lips quirk up too. He’s lovely.

Eddie can’t wait for tomorrow.

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