#background jargyle
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“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”
Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.
They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.
“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.
“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”
“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”
“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”
“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.
“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”
“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”
“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.
“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”
“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.
“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”
“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.
“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”
“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”
“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.
“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”
“And that’s when you became best friends?”
“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”
“Platonic with a capital P?”
Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.
“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.
When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.
“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.
Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.
It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.
He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.
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this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!
now with a part two! click here
#angeldreamsoffanfic#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfic#platonic stobin#background jargyle#background ronance#but it’s pre every relationship#steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs#robin would die for steve#steve harrington has bad parents#but jim hopper adopts him because i said so#steve and eleven have a sibling bond#he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way#this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think
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it's finally here! one month late, and a couple thousand words more than i thought it'd be! happy leap yeap!
Here's my entry for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge! I had dialogue prompt #22 "Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?”
pairing: steddie | word count: 10,446 | rated: E | on AO3: hey you really turn me on
Why in the hell did he agree to this? It’s 20 fuckin’ degrees out and he’s outside?? In the snow?? Voluntarily?
If the boys could see him now.. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Eddie?”, “Since when do you do shit outside?”, “All this for Steve fuckin’ Harrington…”.
And that’s the rub, it is because of Steve. Hopeless crush aside, Steve is the reason he’s there. Why they’re all there in the first place.
When Steve got the call, Eddie and the other older teens of their world-saving group were just hanging out; movies, beer, snacks, a little weed, music playing low…all in all, a great kick-back.
Then the phone rang.
It was relatively late too, 10 maybe?
Steve went to answer it of course, the conversation muffled through the living room and kitchen walls, but after a minute or so he came back. The long phone line stretched across the hall back to the hook in the kitchen.
“When is this again?” Steve says into the receiver, waving towards the sound system. Robin had scrambled up immediately, nearly falling back on her face to turn the volume down.
“Uh huh. And you and Dad won’t be there? Mm hmm.” he nods.
Eddie looked over to Robin first, eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, as does Nancy when he turned the look to her.
“And how many rooms?” Whatever the answer is causes Steve’s brows to shoot up. “Wow, okay, yeah we–”
Eddie was closest to him, previously starfished out on the carpet, but had sat up and leaned back on his palms when Steve returned, so he could just barely hear the sound of another voice on the other end of the line.
“Yeah of course, that’d be great, we definitely will. Thanks Mom.”
Steve had sounded actually…happy to be talking to his mom. And here Eddie thought the Harringtons were objectively the worst.
“No, they’re going to love it, Mom, I promise.” another pause, “Nope. They’ll all be on their best behavior.” Steve glances down at Eddie, “We all will be.”
He scoffs up at Steve from his spot on the floor. Rude.
Steve only waves him off with a smile, “Yeah, the usual.” he says, “Rob, Nance, Jon, Jon’s friend Argyle–yeah, he’s the one from California, and Eddie.” Steve’s eyes flash down to Eddie again and his stomach twists sharply. Aw fuck, here it comes; the scolding, the yelling, the berating about how Eddie’s no good for him to be associating with, why are you stooping to his level, he’s a murderer, yadda yadda yadda.
“Yeah, he and Wayne are doin’ much better now, I’ll have to tell you about it next time, okay?”
Uh.
What?
“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind! Yep, Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair,” He looks again at the other people in the room, they’re still just as puzzled as he is. What do the kids have to do with this? “I’ll talk to Hopper and Joyce, and I’m sure Ms. Mayfield would let Max go. Oh absolutely,”
Steve starts back into the kitchen, and Eddie can hear him all the way back to the hook. “No–Nope, it’s fine, I actually have a couple people over right now so I want to–yeah. Yep. Okay, love you too. Bye mom.”
Eddie looks around at the others; Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, even Argyle, though he’s not looking around wide-eyed at what all just occurred like the others are.
Steve comes back into the living room. “So…” he lets out a long breath, “How do you all feel about skiing?”
-x-X-x-
So yeah. Here they all are, at some ski resort up in Michigan. Boyd Mountain…or Bowie? Something with a ‘B’.
Turns out, Steve’s parents had a four-room cabin rental set aside as a perk for some deal they were trying to barter. It fell through though, and they wouldn’t be back from Colorado themselves until after the reservation would’ve expired so they offered it to Steve and whoever he’d like to invite.
They took care of everything too; got lift passes, boot and ski rentals set aside for each of them, even sent a whole ass passenger van to be dropped off in the Harrington driveway for them to make the drive; A huge 15 passenger one that even with the three extra seats, still barely held all their crap for the long weekend.
All of them piled into the van in the dark on a Friday morning, sleepy-faced and crusty-eyed; Robin as Steve’s co-pilot, and each of the rest of the older teens and the party piling in wherever they could (they’d fight about their seats when they woke up more, Eddie was sure of it).
The first rest stop on the way up went by without incident, but by time they stopped for late breakfast/early lunch at another, everyone was stir crazy. Sandwiches were passed out, gas was gotten, bathroom breaks were taken, and almost as soon as they got back in the van, Robin was snoring.
“Damnit, if I knew she was gonna tank like that I would’ve had someone else sit up here.” Steve had groused.
“I’ve gotcha big guy, I won’t let you fall asleep.” Eddie said, now seated next to Dustin and El on the first bench behind the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, me either.” Dustin agreed.
He was snoring an hour later, El leaning into him for her own nap.
“That’s cute.” Was the first thing Robin said after waking back up.
All in all, not a bad drive. The worst part was tramping through the snow to the cabin after they’d arrived.
“Goddammit Steve, How am I supposed to get through this week in only my jeans?”
Steve sighs, “Eddie, you have made the same argument ever since my mom called; and every time you did, I told you everything would be here for you.”
He finally gets the door open, shoving it wide for them all and gesturing them in, “Get comfy guys, I’m going to grab the cooler with our groceries.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Jonathan says, following Steve back out to the van.
The large open main floor has a full kitchen with a raised bar counter and four stools, tall peaked ceilings, a fireplace on one wall with two couches and a rocking chair situated around it, and a sliding glass door to a balcony off the back side of the building overlooking the trees below.
There’s stairs too, a set going up and a set going down, and at least one bathroom here on this floor, off the kitchen.
Eddie wanders into the living room, picks out some pieces of kindling from the bucket on the stone beside the fireplace and a couple logs from the stack nearby, and busies himself with starting the fire while the party pokes around the place.
He glances over his shoulder when he hears the fake leather of the couch cushions squeak together, only to see Argyle has perched himself on the backrest, squashing a cushion beneath his feet.
The fire takes less than no time at all, and once it’s going and he’s re-situated the trifold metal screen back in front of the fire, he sits down beside Argyle’s shins and is immediately entranced by the flames.
Steve and Jonathan return not long after, lugging their things with the cooler hanging between them.
“So how do y’guys want to split up the rooms?” Robin asks aloud, ignoring the yelling the other teens are already doing about the same thing.
“I’m not picky.” Eddie shrugs, standing up to stretch again, deciding he really did not want to be sitting anymore.
“Me either sister, whatever you decide is cool with me.” Argyle agrees. “What’re the rooms like?”
“There’s a master up here!” Max calls from above them, looming over the log railing at the top of the stairs with El.
“We walked right past it, but there’s a room with a queen off the front hall there,” Jonathan says, shuffling his bag against the kitchen bar.
“Hey! Assholes!” Steve yells down the steps, the boys must’ve gone down there. “Go get your shit out of the van and we’ll head over to the main lodge!”
The four thunder up the steps, how any of them can understand any other over the other is beyond him.
“Will,” Nancy calls as he rounds the stairs last, “There are bedrooms down there?”
“Yep!” he grins, “Two rooms with queen beds, and a bathroom.”
“I don’t mind taking one of the queens,” Nancy says, “Robin, wanna share with me?”
Robin starts to splutter, still somehow not convinced that Nancy’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious to him, but he and Steve have both tried to tell her this. To no avail. Even after Jonathan and her had confirmed they’d split and that he was moving back to California with Argyle come spring.
Steve rescues Robin from her spluttering. “It’s only fair that Argyle gets next dibs, since he’s the one that’s offered to cook for us.” he says, lugging the cooler over to the kitchen to unload it.
He’d insisted on picking up groceries for their stay, saying “There’s a restaurant, sure, but that’d get expensive quick and we’ll have a full kitchen so why not?”
“Appreciated my man; y’wanna bunk with me, Jonny?”
Eddie follows Steve, leaning on the bar across from the fridge from him, “So where’s all my snow gear, Stevie?” he asks the back of Steve’s head.
“Eddie, I swear to God.” Steve huffs in return, bending down into the cooler at his feet to fish out a couple of cartons of eggs.
Eddie does not watch how the denim of Steve’s jeans pulls tighter over any part of him, thank you very much.
“Mom called ahead and has everything we might need set aside in the main lodge, we’ll go there first before we hit the slopes.”
“Oh my god, did you really just say that?” Eddie asks as Steve stashes away two jars of jelly, one strawberry, one grape.
“Say what?” Bacon and some packs of lunch meat are next.
“Like, that’s an actual thing that people say? It’s not just in the movies?”
Steve sighs, finishing off the groceries with a couple 12 packs of pop stashed on the bottom shelf. “What is just like the movies?”
“‘Hit the slopes.’? Really?”
“You’re super annoying, you know that, right?” he says, closing the fridge and pushing the lid back onto their cooler.
“Awe, c’mon baby, you don’t mean that.” Eddie coos, slipping around the counter to cup Steve’s face in his hands, “What happened to the man who loves me for my antics, huh?”
“Get off me, dude,” Steve laughs, batting Eddie’s hands away, his cheeks tinged pink.
‘Yes! Success!’ When did he decide he was trying to fluster Steve? Eh, whatever. No harm, right?
“So, did you guys figure out the sleeping situation?” Steve asks the rest of the group, walking back around the bar.
Eddie follows, leaning back on the counter in his previously vacated spot.
Nancy nods, “Jon and Argyle will take the room on the main floor, us girls will take the two downstairs, you can take the master, and the boys will take the couches.”
The boys return with their bags then, and Mike immediately starts complaining about being relegated to the fold-outs. Eddie also hears Dustin and Lucas trying to talk him down, saying things like “Dude, that means we’ll be close to the fire!”, “We can throw things in it!,” and “We can make s’mores!”.
Steve doesn’t seem to hear them though, otherwise he’d be shutting that shit down. Instead, his face only scrunches in confusion, “What about Eddie?”
Nancy looks surprised for a blink, then disgruntled, like she’s pissed she forgot someone.
“I’ll just crash out here on the floor with these losers, no worries.” he shrugs.
Steve turns toward his voice, a deep crease between his brows. “That’s not fair.”
“I promise I’ll survive Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. At least he’ll be the warmest out here in front of the fireplace. “I’ve slept on worse, believe it or not, I’ll be sleeping like a king compared to then.”
Steve’s brows scrunch almost all the way together, then spring apart and settle into determined lines. “You’ll sleep with me.” he says with a nod, his arms folding across his chest.
A beat passes.
Eddie can’t resist.
He leans close to Steve’s side, “A bit presumptuous, Stevie darling,”
Steve’s face practically glows with the flush that appears in the next beat, mumbling something to himself as he walks to the door and starts to pull on his coat and boots.
Eddie pushes off the counter and follows, obnoxiously holding a hand up to one ear. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he teases, walking to his own tossed-aside boots, “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“We going to the lodge now?” he hears Lucas ask as he passes.
“Finally.” Mike adds, unhelpfully.
Steve huffs, standing up again and leaning close to Eddie’s cupped hand, “As if you hadn’t thought about it, darling.”
Four of the other ten are in their coats and boots and out the door after Steve before Eddie comes back online.
-x-X-x-
So here he is: outside. In the snow. With skis strapped to his feet. All because of Steve and his surprisingly generous parents.
He watches, amused, as Robin stands as still as she possibly can, arms spread wide, while Nancy helps strap her into her skis. As soon as the skis had gotten remotely close to being attached to her, it was discovered that no matter what section of ground they may be standing on, Robin would start to drift away. Sliding down some sort of unseen incline backwards, frontwards, and/or sideways.
Jon and Argyle are already almost to the closest lift, and Eddie watches as they do a weird half-jump onto the bench as it comes up behind them.
The gremlins had scattered after Steve’s ‘be careful’ lecture, telling them all when to be back to the van by, or back to the cabin if they will be coming off the slopes near there, telling them all to be safe and to keep to pairs or more so they can be radioed.
They’d all brought their walkies with them, and Eddie can see where the boys are still huddled together, swapping out their batteries.
He watches them split off soon after, Dustin and Lucas pushing off to where Max and El are waiting at the standing lift to the top of the training hill.
Mike and Will scoot off together in the opposite direction, toward the centermost lift a few dozen yards away.
“Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?” He says as Steve slides to a stop on his own skis beside him.
He’d meant it jokingly, was probably going to follow it up with some jabs about being Steve’s wingman if he needed (there were already a few ladies he’d seen giving Steve some looks while they waited for their gear in the main lodge), but Steve shrugs and says: “I’ll be your date this weekend, Eds. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out or anything.”
Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “That’s not–” he starts, but cuts himself off at the look Steve is giving him. His goggles have been haphazardly pushed up his face, trapping a few loose locks of Steve’s hair between them and the roll of his beanie, his cheeks are already bitten red with the cold, and he’s smiling so painfully sincerely under that damn teasing smirk that all Eddie can do is acquiesce.
“You better be the best date here then, Stevie,” Eddie chides, starting off toward the lift Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared up, “I won’t settle for anyone other than the bes–” he pitches forward suddenly, one of his skis sticking to the snow under it more than it should’ve.
Steve catches him, of course, and says “Will I get points taken off as ‘Best Date Ever’ if I make you go on the training hill?”
They do go to the training hill, lovingly called the Bunny Hopper, but he and Robin are thankfully saved from the embarrassment of actually being taught by the volunteers there; Steve and Nancy taking them to the slightly taller ‘big kid’ hill and teaching them there.
Surprising even himself, Eddie picks up on the motions and the feeling of being on skis easily. The whole ‘pizza’ thing about stopping was still iffy but the rest is no problem. Fun, actually.
“That was great, man! You’re a natural!” Steve beams at him, his grin lopsided from the meat of his cheeks being squashed under his goggles.
“I just had a great teacher,” he brushes off the compliment, elbowing Steve playfully.
Steve somehow grins even bigger, and Eddie’s heart stammers.
“You ready to go to the real hill now?”
“This isn’t a real hill?”
He’s positive Steve just rolled his eyes under his goggles. “C’mon smartass, let's get in line for the lift.”
Eddie bows him forward, “After you, sweetheart.”
He follows Steve to the end of the line; thankfully it’s not too long, now that it’s late afternoon and will be getting dark soon.
Steve seems to notice this as well, lifting his goggles off his face again. “We’ll have to call the gremlins back sooner than I thought. It’ll be dark soon.”
“Stop reading my mind, Stevie.”
Steve looks over at him, squinting hard and pursing his lips (Eddie’s stupid lizard brain has a split second thought of those lips pursed around something). “Ugh! Ew, gross Eddie, what would make you think about that?!”
He feels his face blanche and scrambles to recover. “I was only thinking about our good friend Robin, Steve-o, you saying Robin is gross?” He pitches his voice higher and glances down the line to where he can see Robin and Nancy.
Robin flips her mitten up at him, and he can infer the gesture just fine, thanks.
“Shut up, asshole.” Steve laughs, pushing him out of the line on his skis.
They’re the next to hop up on the moving bench, and Steve’s…everything…seems to seize up as soon as they’re seated and on their way.
“Could you imagine?”
“Hm?” He’s still looking down anxiously, so Eddie scoots just a bit closer, pressing what he hopes is comfortingly into Steve’s side.
“If we could read each other's minds? If the bats biting us both somehow linked us together?”
It works a little; Steve tears his eyes away from the ground as it drops away from them, huffing out a short laugh, “I don’t think I would survive inside your head, it’d be even more chaotic than you already are.”
“As if your head would be any better.”
“Hey, my head is great!”
Eddie grins wickedly, “You get told that a lot, Stevie?”
Steve seems unphased, smirking slowly. “I do, actually. Why? You tryin’ t’see if it’s true?”
His cheeks start to prickle, “You offering, big boy?”
“Maybe I am,” Steve shrugs then leans closer, “Now the real question is if you’re gonna take me up on it.”
Eddie’s head reels in the couple seconds he takes to respond.
Where in the hell is all this coming from? Is it just part of the ‘date’ thing? There’s no fuckin’ way Steve is actually into him, is there? He’s always been flirty, just like Eddie is himself, but there’s no way there are any actual feelings behind it… So there’s no harm in playing along.
“I’m gonna have to now, aren’t I?” he grins back, “Gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”
Steve smirks, his eyes hooded. He’s good at pretending, he’ll give him that.
His eyes glance away, then back to Eddie’s face. The sultry look he’d been hamming up for his sake is gone, just an easy smile remains. At least this sudden flirting Steve’s decided to do isn’t going to ruin their surprisingly solid post-apocalyptic friendship.
“It’s almost time to get off, ready?”
Eddie looks ahead to where the couple on the bench before them are hopping off. They stand up off the lift easily and don’t end up in a heap, but he is starting to feel the anxiety Steve was feeling only minutes ago. How’s he supposed to get out of the way fast enough, isn’t there a drop? That looked way too easy.
“As I’ll ever be,” he gulps.
“Give me your hand.” Steve says, not waiting for a response and snatching up Eddie’s hand in his, “Okay, when I say so, you just gotta stand up. Ready?”
“Stand up, what do you mea—” he feels his legs lift a bit as the ground rises to coast under his skis, and it makes sense.
“Now!”
Wait, no! He wasn’t ready!
He stands just a breath after Steve, but isn’t fast enough, the lift continues up on its path and catches him again, forcing his butt back into the seat.
“Eddie, you gotta–”
He tries again at the same time Steve pulls him forward and he pitches forward, landing with an “Oof–” on top of Steve and forcing the breath from the other man’s lungs.
“Aw fuck, sorry Stevie!” He rolls off of him and out of the path of the upcoming lift chairs. “That went exactly as well as I thought it would.”
Steve wheezes out a breathless laugh, standing back up on his skis with no problem at all. Wait, how did he do that? How’s he supposed to get up with these things on his feet?
“Here,” Steve arranges his skis for him, putting one long side of each onto the snow, “Give me your poles, and push yourself up with your hands. You want to get your feet under you.”
He does as he’s told and walks his weight around on his hands to the fronts of his skis until he’s bent forward at his hips, standing straight out of the bend.
“...Huh.”
“Good job, man!” Steve grins, handing him back his poles, “Getting up on skis can be a bitch and a half; way to catch on quick.”
Eddie grins mischievously, deciding to be a little shit. “I dunno, you’d think my date would like seeing me bent over for him, huh Stevie?”
Steve just rolls his eyes, snapping his goggles back down with a smile, “C’mon, asshole, let’s get out of the way; the run to the right of the lift looked shorter on the map.”
Thankfully, the chair behind them had been empty, but the next one had a full four people on it and it was coming up fast.
“‘Sides,” He says, pushing off toward the top of the run, waiting for Eddie to scoot in next to him at the crest before leaning in and murmuring low into his ear, “I’d rather wait ‘till we’re alone to bend you over properly.”
Steve’s a good 20 feet away by time Eddie comes back to himself enough to follow.
They get about an hour and a half in on the hills, a grand total of six wipeouts under Eddie’s belt, and a couple others under Steve’s, with one successful landing off one of the jumps on the main drag to finish off the day.
“Didja see that?!” Steve yells, pulling down the balaclava he’d unceremoniously added to his getup about an hour ago.
“Hell yes Stevie!” Eddie calls, breathless, still coasting to the bottom of the slope after him. “You landed it!”
“I landed it!”
Steve holds his arms open as Eddie once again fails to slow himself down properly, and catches him at the bottom in a crushing hug. His cheeks are flushed with adrenaline, bitten with the cold, his eyes bright in the setting sun and smile nearly as beautiful.
Damn he’s pretty.
Courteous as ever, Steve waits until Eddie’s arranged his feet the right way again before letting him go to spin the pack off his back for their assigned walkie.
Steve radios the party, and everyone is packed away in their van a scant ten minutes later. The older teens had already made it back to the cabin, letting themselves in off a run near there, so it was only the similarly flushed and excitement-filled younger teens babbling away in the back seats.
There’s overlapping stories of their own wipeouts (including one Robin took that Max swears was hilarious), Dustin insisting he saw a brown bear through the trees at one point, and all six debating whether or not they’d want to go to the main lodge for the waterpark tomorrow instead of back onto the hills.
They are still debating amongst themselves when they pull into the driveway. “Alright dorks,” Steve calls over the bickering, “Go inside and hang up your shit next to the fireplace so it can dry out.”
Eddie follows the troop into the living room and watches them pile all their outerwear together on the two hooks closest to the stone fireplace, then tear off downstairs where he heard there may have been a Nintendo stashed in one of the bedroom dressers.
Jonathan and Robin start methodically re-arranging the coats and snow pants on the hooks so they’ll dry easier, while Argyle pushes up off one of the couches to start on dinner.
“C’mon Eds, get comfy,” Steve says, coming up beside him and gesturing to the loveseat directly across from the roaring fire. Eddie can already feel the burn of it across his frigid skin, “I gotta make sure I get you unthawed before I get you into my bed.” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s ear.
And isn’t that a whole new type of torment. They will actually be sleeping in the same bed tonight…the next three nights!
Steve turns back to the kitchen when Eddie drops cross-legged onto the sofa, and the tingling feeling in his cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.
It’s half from Steve’s scarily earnest-sounding flirting, but also about half from the look Robin is giving him while she takes the spot next to Nancy on the other couch.
“What? What’s the look for?”
Robin shrugs, picking up what must’ve been her discarded book from the end table between them (which she’s got the already read half curled backward around its spine, like a heathen), “Nothin’ at all, Eds.”
His face is burning hotter than the fire by the time Steve returns.
He passes them each a mug of cocoa, then flops down on the floor in front of Eddie’s knees.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Eddie asks, surprised at the nonchalance he was able to muster up. He reaches forward and tugs on a lock of Steve’s hair without even thinking about it (and ignoring the muffled giggle coming from somewhere to Robin’s left. Oh great, Nancy’s in on his torment too?).
Steve lets out a contented hum, dropping his head back to lie heavily in Eddie’s lap, “Argyle’s whipping up some burgers.”
Eddie leaves his fingers in Steve’s hair, absentmindedly pulling them through a few tangles left behind by his hat.
Steve’s head lolls around in Eddie’s lap with the motions of his fingers for a whole thirty seconds before he snaps it back up, “Oh–ugh–wait, don’t do that,” Eddie pulls his hand away immediately, an apology on his tongue, but Steve continues, standing up and saying, “I’m all gross and sweaty, man, at least let me take a shower first. Be right back.” Steve grins, and heads upstairs to the master bedroom.
Eddie blinks into the space left behind by Steve’s departure, then Nancy is standing as well; “That’s a good idea,” she says, unfolding from her spot at Robin’s side and walking around the back of the couch, “I’ll be back up soon.” She gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, and heads downstairs.
Not a full five seconds pass before Robin says, “So...Steve’s super into you.”
Eddie balks at her, his eyes darting around the room automatically. Jon’s helping Argyle chop up toppings for their burgers, the two of them paying less than zero attention to him or Robin, there’s a yell from downstairs followed by laughter, the sound of a shower starting from the open balcony to the upstairs bedroom..
“You can’t just say shit like that, Birdie.” he whispers, his tone harried.
“What, the truth?”
“He is not into me.”
She nods in sarcastic understanding, “Ah, so you’re into him.”
“No I’m—” she levels him with a look. He sighs, glancing around at the no one around them, “Okay fine, yes, I am super into him. But he is not into me.”
Robin shrugs, going back to her book. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think he is. And I think you should make a move.”
“Make a mo—He’s straight as fuck, Robin!”
She gives him a glance, her brow furrowing for a split second then smoothing out. “Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to.” he says, sinking back against the cushions.
She doesn’t say anything else, and he goes back to staring at the fire.
“If you make a move on Steve, I’ll finally make a move on Nancy.” she says a handful of minutes later.
He processes that slowly, takes a deep breath, then shoves his hand towards her without looking over.
She takes it, giving it one hard shake.
As soon as he takes his hand back, Argyle lopes into view with a plate in his hand, “Food’s ready my dudes.” He says, sinking into the armchair closest to the glass balcony door.
Robin snaps her book shut and sets it down on the little end table between them (the cover curls back up immediately, the poor thing), standing up and heading into the kitchen.
Eddie has just let his feet fall to the floor and has scooted to the edge of his seat to stand up himself, when Argyle yells out “Nice tits!”
“Whose tits are out?” Eddie asks, following his gaze automatically.
Argyle goes back to his plate. “Steve’s.”
Uh…Yeah…He can see that for himself now.
Steve is standing at the railing of the upper floor in nothing but a towel. One hand is flipping Argyle off, and the other is preoccupied with scrubbing a second towel over his damp hair.
The towel wrapped around him is slung low on his hips, and Eddie’s eyes start to roam on their own.
Steve’s stomach is solid yet soft-looking with all its faded pink scars, and it and his chest are still as hairy as Eddie remembers; strong shoulders, solid jaw, dusty lips that pull up into a smirk, all of him is so fucking perfect.
“Hurry it up, dingus, food’s ready!” Robin calls, startling Eddie out of his gawking.
His face goes hot with embarrassment, chancing another glance up to Steve and hoping he didn’t get caught…
Steve winks at him, then turns out of sight, disappearing just as his hand comes down to grab the towel twisted around him.
His face burns, and doesn’t stop burning until long after Steve returns from upstairs.
He makes up a burger for himself, and once each of them have theirs, they call the rest of the hoard upstairs. The six teens all but destroy the remaining burgers, two whole bags of chips, and would have gulped down at least one whole 12 pack of Coke if Nancy hadn’t relegated them to one can each.
Steve’s about to herd them back downstairs when El pipes up and says that they’ve decided they want to go to the waterpark in the main lodge tonight instead of tomorrow. Surprisingly, Steve agrees to drive them over there on the condition “you shitheads are careful, and are ready to go as soon as the pools close at midnight. Got it?”
“Agreed.” they say in unison, splitting off in all directions to grab their swim stuff.
“I’m surprised at you, Stevie, letting them go off on their own.”
He just shrugs, “There’s lifeguards.”
The troops are back in the living room within ten minutes, and in their boots and out the door in 12.
Once they’re out the door, Robin goes back to her book, Jon and Argyle step out onto the balcony to smoke, and Eddie follows Nancy into the kitchen without even thinking about it, grabbing up the hand towel hanging from the oven door and placing himself to her right.
“Thanks,” she says, handing him the first wet plate from the mess of suds in the sink.
They work in silence for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire, the clanging of silverware in the sink, the muffled voices of the two on the porch.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah, Eddie?”
“If I–If Ste–” he wasn’t sure how to ask this, how to even approach the topic, “Robin said—”
“He’d be lucky to have you Eddie, and you him.” She says, not looking up from the sink.
“How’d you–?”
“Robin tends to ramble when she's nervous, have you noticed?”
He stares down at her, dumbfounded. Her lips quirk into a smile. “She’s like that around me a lot, actually.”
“I’ve noticed.”
They fall back into silence again; on the last plate, she says, “Robin’s already had this conversation with Steve about me, so I only assume it’s fair that you have it with me about him.” She passes the last plate to him and pulls the drain from the water.
“Just remember Eddie,” She pauses and turns to face him, one hip cocked over to lean on the edge of the counter. “If you’re gonna go for it..Steve loves with all of him at once. Don’t take it for granted.”
He sets the dried plate onto the rack beside the sink as she passes behind him, patting him on the shoulder as she does.
He wants to take a moment to process all that, but just his luck, Steve returns then, passing in behind him where Nancy just left to grab up a six-pack.
Steve hands one to Eddie as he leaves, “You okay, Eds?”
“I’m good, thanks Stevie.” he says, fixing his face into an easy smile.
The six of them lounge around the rest of the evening, slowly sipping on their drinks while they play cards in front of the fire, but there’s a catch: Eddie’s going absolutely insane.
Steve’s touching him everywhere. His thigh and foot are sitting comfortably under Eddie’s own thigh where it’s crossed above it, his arm is draped across the back of the couch behind Eddie’s shoulders and methodically twirling long lengths of dark hair between his fingers.
Eddie’s been doing his damndest to ignore it, and succeeds, actually, for short periods of time while they are playing Uno, but every time Steve leans back from dropping his next card on the coffee table, he casually puts his arm back where it was, and grabs up a new lock of Eddie’s hair to torture him with.
And each time he does, Robin gives him the same knowing look.
It’s. Agony.
He wants to relax, wants to scream, he wants to swing his leg over Steve’s lap and press him into the cushions with heated kisses, he wants to haul the other man upstairs and throw him onto the bed…be thrown onto the bed.
Finally, Nancy calls it, breaking their little bubble to stand into a long stretch around nine. Steve hops up off the couch after Robin to gather up all the rest of the cans, and Eddie helps Jon and Argyle pull apart the couches enough to fold out the beds for when the goblins come back.
He escapes upstairs after a short goodnight to the two, Robin and Steve are still bickering in hushed tones about something in the kitchen, and pulls out his bag. He’s fishing out a new pair of boxers when Steve finally gets upstairs, shutting the room’s double doors behind him and heading into the ensuite.
He left the door open in his wake, so Eddie grabs up the rest of his things and follows. He drops his pile of stuff onto the closed lid of the toilet and shucks his shirt unceremoniously, tossing it to the floor.
The glass door of the huge half-walled stone shower squeaks softly on its hinges when he opens it to start the water, squeaking again when it swings closed. He reaches up to a shelf above the toilet to pull down one of the provided towels, turning to hang it on the hook beside the shower.
It’s while he’s turning back to the hook that he chances a look at Steve.
Steve, frozen at the sink with his toothbrush hanging listlessly in the air and a glob of foamy toothpaste slowly drooping off his lip, is staring.
Unabashedly.
At Eddie’s bare torso.
Eddie caught and cataloged this in the split second it took Steve to realize Eddie was staring back, but it was enough.
The flirting had been one thing, a natural, goofy continuation of their friendship that led to their ‘date’ today, the soft touches and hair-playing had been another, something Eddie could explain away just as easily. Steve is a touchy guy once you get close to him, and had been with Eddie since they’d gotten closer after spring break.
But this?
He’s looking at him with the same wide-eyed look Eddie’d given him earlier: gobsmacked and slightly hungry.
Steve turns away quickly, spitting into the sink and mumbling something under his breath while he finishes rinsing out his mouth.
Eddie snorts, shaking his head and finally hanging up his towel.
“Oh, what, now you’re gonna be all shy?” he grouses, twisting around to scowl at the back of Steve’s head. Steve looks over his shoulder to glare at him in return, his cheeks glowing red. “Really? The guy who was joking about bending me over only a couple hours ago? The same guy who was winking at me in nothing but a towel earlier?”
Steve flushes darker, and it irritates him to no end. “Honestly Steve?” Eddie starts, turning back to the shower and pretending to fix how his towel is hanging, “If you’re into me, just do something about it. Otherwise, just…back off, okay? I’m super into you but I can be a big boy about it because honestly, I’d rather keep you around as a friend if nothing else and—”
His rambling is cut off by the click of the bathroom door closing.
Eddie lets out a long breath, “Yeah.. that’s about what I expected.” Robin was wrong.
He takes a moment to collect himself, but just as he pops open the button on his jeans, Steve’s voice breaks through the sound of rushing water.
“Were you being serious?”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelps, spinning around to face the man who’s still very much in the bathroom with him. “What the fuck, Steve?”
“Were you?” he asks, pushing off from where he’d been leaning back on the door.
“...About what?”
“About how you’re ‘super into’ me?” he grins.
Eddie crosses his arms across his chest defensively, “You don’t get to be an ass about it, Steve.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says softly, reaching out to unfold Eddie’s arms. His fingers follow the length of them and grasp Eddie’s in his, “I wasn’t trying to be, promise; I’m just surprised is all.”
“Surprised?”
“Well yeah,” he shrugs, “The super hot metalhead you’ve been mooning after since March confesses he thinks you’re also super hot? That’s kinda hard to believe.”
He can feel Steve’s shirt brushing faintly against his stomach now. “I never said you were super hot.” he manages to say.
Steve catches his eyes, smirking at him with an obnoxious head tilt, “Didja have to?”
“Shut up..” Eddie snorts out a laugh and pushes lightly at Steve’s chest; he’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, now leave me alone so I can shower.” he says, pushing a bit harder this time. “I’ll be out soon and you can do with me what you wish.”
Steve’s leaning his weight against him, fighting going back to the bedroom, “Or…”
“Or?” Damn, he’s heavy what the fuck!
“I could, maybe, if you want..Icouldgetinwithyou.”
Eddie stops pushing.
Steve scratches at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I mean, I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now and there’s a perfectly good reason right there, and I think it’d be nice to shower, y’know…together.. and wow, I am being super awkward, actually..so I’m just gonna…yeah.”
Steve gestures over his shoulder toward the bedroom but he doesn’t even move to turn before Eddie is pulling him back the other way.
He lets him go a couple steps away from the glass shower door, “Better get t’stripping big boy, can’t shower very well with clothes on, can you?” he winks, then faces away from Steve to finally shed his jeans (and for his own sanity).
Eddie can hear the split second it takes for Steve to start pulling off his clothes, taking another second for himself before pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips.
He had been trying to be in the shower under the spray before Steve was even out of his clothes, but one of his legs got caught, then he had to pause further to pull off the stubborn sock that decided not to come off with his jeans.
Which of course led to him nearly toppling over.
He caught himself on the wall, but not before Steve’s hands caught him around the waist too. “Careful, Eds.”
Oh fuck. Steve’s hands should not feel that good against his skin..also, dammit! He was trying to be all suave and cool by getting in under the water before Steve could see him fully, and now his bare fuckin’ ass is out for all to see…
Eddie laughs to himself.
“What?”
“Nothin’, I just thought I’d be…better? At this?”
“At what?”
“Stupid fuckin’—” Eddie finally gets his sock off, then sighs, “I dunno, being sexy, or mysterious I guess? Coy maybe?”
“Why would you need to be any of that?”
Eddie shrugs, stepping out of Steve’s hold and into the shower and under the spray, staying faced away from the door while Steve follows.
“Are you gonna look at me?” he asks, voice devoid of anything but concern.
Taking a breath, Eddie steels himself and turns to face Steve in the large shower.
Steve’s expression is calm, open, but skews slightly into concern under Eddie’s gaze.
The long lean lines of his torso are just the same as the other two times he’s seen them, but they’re close now, and in good lighting too; Eddie can see a few other scars other than the ones from the bats, others he’s gotten over the years protecting the heard of goblins they’ve been co-parenting since last September.
He watches rogue droplets of water slough down the now-damp hairs on his arms, his legs, his chest, the ones that follow the path of darkening hairs down his stomach to his—
Steve steps closer, sharing the warm, wide spray of the shower with him.
He lifts his hand and brushes the damp hair back from the scar that marrs Eddie’s face and neck, stepping forward fully and cupping the puckered flesh in his palm when the hair settles wetly behind his shoulder
Eddie feels time stop for a brief moment.
All of Steve is pressed into him and they line up perfectly, like they were made to share the same space. Steve’s other hand slides onto Eddie’s hip and it tugs him closer. Steve's half-hard length slots into place beside Eddie’s own, into the crevice where his crotch meets thigh.
Eddie shudders a breath at the feeling, opening his eyes to study the planes of Steve’s face and the way he is seemingly drooping forward into Eddie’s orbit.
Steve’s smiling softly at him, the soft spray of water reflecting off their chests is misting up onto his cheek and lashes. His eyes are so much more green than he’d thought before, besides how little of the color he can see around the much larger pupil.
“Gorgeous.” Steve says, his voice is breathy and low, full of admiration, of longing…and it takes Eddie out of his reverie.
“Wha?” He says, eloquent as ever.
“You’re gorgeous, Eddie.”
Then, Steve’s lips are on his, tentative and sweet; soft, but becoming heady fast.
The next time their lips meet, it’s punctuated with a short huff of air from Steve’s lungs when Eddie spins them, pressing Steve into the stone wall beside the shower knobs. He parts his lips to mumble out an apology, but Steve’s tongue decides to fill the space instead.
The hand Steve had on Eddie’s jaw snakes down to grab hold of his other hip and pulls him even closer, using the both of them to roll Eddie’s hips into his.
Their tongues slide languidly against the other, the fast pace they’d been building into falling off in exchange for slow, sanguine kisses instead.
Eddie lets out a shaky breath when they do part, blinking across the short distance between them at Steve’s kiss-bitten lips for only a second before letting his eyes fall shut with the exhale.
“Steve…is this—Is this real?”
Steve breathes out a shaky laugh of his own, “Why wouldn’t it be real, Eddie?” He asks, gently tracing the length of Eddie’s nose with his.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve had this exact dream before; are you sure I didn’t snap my neck during one of those falls earlier?”
The younger man laughs fully this time, and Eddie relishes in the slippery feeling of the wet skin of Steve’s stomach rippling against his own. He can’t help but grin in response to both the laughter and the funny feeling, his eyes opening without a second thought.
Steve looks like he’s floating, his face soft and dripping with a bright beaming smile..
“Do you need me to pinch you?” Steve asks, finally coming down from his brief fit of laughter.
“I don’t know if I want to find out this isn’t real.” Eddie grins in return.
One of Steve’s large hands leaves his hip then, snaking around to pinch the underside of Eddie’s asscheek.
He sucks in a short hiss of pain and lets out a soft whimper of something else (holy shit, when did that become a thing??) in the same breath.
“Okay…” he gulps down a mouthful of nothing, “Not a dream.”
“Not a dream..” Steve repeats.
There’s a beat, two full breaths of more nothing before Steve spins them around and pushes Eddie back into the cold stone instead, his arm wrapped around him and up to cup the back of his skull protectively against the tile.
He presses a thick thigh between Eddie’s and does three things almost simultaneously.
The first, a second before the other two: He locks his heavy-lidded gaze on Eddie’s; two and three: presses the thigh between Eddie’s legs up, and pulls the hand at the back of his skull down along with a fistful of dark curls.
“Aahhh—ohhh fuck, Steve…” The sting from his scalp pulls a moan from his exposed throat, and Eddie scrambles to grab hold of something.
His nails dig into the slick skin of Steve’s back automatically, and he opens his mouth to apologize the same moment Steve latches onto his neck with a low groan of his own.
The hand not tangled in Eddie’s hair is starting to pull him down in waves against Steve’s thigh and hips, both of them hissing in pleasure with each pass of the other’s length against theirs.
“Mmmm, Eddie..” Steve moans, unlatching from the bruise he’s sure to have left on Eddie’s throat to lave his tongue and lips against his jaw instead. “Baby, you feel so good against me.”
“AAaahh—mmm..”
“Ooh, and you sound so sweet..” His lips trail down from his jaw back to the definitely sore spot on his neck, one that he prods lightly with the tip of his tongue before continuing on to nip at the taught skin of his collarbone, kiss lightly over the skin of his scarred pec, finally landing tongue first onto Eddie’s remaining nipple.
The reaction to this is immediate; Eddie arches his chest further into Steve’s mouth. Steve, the sonofabitch he is, suctions his lips away from Eddie’s flushed skin in response.
“Hhnng—what the actual fuck, Steve?” Eddie glares best he can though the panting, “Get that mouth back over here.”
Miraculously, Steve obliges, sliding forward into a saccharine kiss and pulling Eddie away from
the wall and back under the spray of water.
“C’mon Eds, tilt your head back before the hot water runs out.”
Eddie just gapes at him, at his dick, both their dicks, still standing at attention, back up to his face.
Steve just purses his lips together as if holding back a grin and tugs Eddie’s head back by his hair again, soaking the strands through under the water.
He lets Steve turn him this way and that, reveling in the feeling of the other man’s hands in his hair, slick with soap on his skin, the gentle nudges and pulls relaxing him further into this weird world where Steve’s totally into him and also they’re naked in the shower together.
Finally, when Steve tilts his head back for the final time to rinse the conditioner out of his hair, Eddie decides to be a little shit, pushing his hips forward to clash their (still half-hard) dicks together.
“What are you—really? A sword fight?”
Eddie lets out a long cackle, “What? You knew what you were getting into with me, didn’t’cha Stevie?”
Doubt crashes into Eddie’s chest the instant the words escape his mouth.
He did, didn’t he? He likes him for his antics right? Oh fuck…How long would it take for Steve to get sick of his shit?
Despite Eddie’s near-crushing doubts, Steve smiles and says, “That I did.” easy as breathing, then pulls Eddie flush against him in another heated kiss.
Steve walks him backward after a moment, and Eddie drops his hands behind him to feel for the inevitable press of cold stone on his back, shuddering when it finally makes contact.
His gasp from the cold tile only seems to egg the other man on, hunching down to grip him around the backs of his thighs.
Eddie’s legs lock around Steve’s waist in panic, but pleasure shoots through him with the motion too, the horny thrill of being picked up so effortlessly along with the pressure of Steve’s stomach against the underside of his dick.
“Mmph—Steve holy shit,” he’s only just managed to thread the fingers on one hand into those sleek brown locks when he has to stifle down a long groan with a bite to his knuckle. “Hnngh–Steve, Steve, you gotta—oh fuck..”
The muscles of Steve’s stomach bunch under him as he grinds up in slow, torturous rolls..
“Oh, fuck—” the words spill out of his mouth, loud and long; his palm snaps up to hold them in as Steve pushes his shoulders into the tile behind him and leans back, leaving Eddie’s body balanced between strong thighs and shower wall.
The tile hits hard on the back of his skull when Steve wraps one of those hands of his around both their lengths. Eddie manages to look down, only to knock his head back again at the sight.
Even with the added height of being on top of Steve’s thighs, their heads are exactly level, disappearing over and over again into the water-warmed skin of Steve’s fist.
Steve hunches forward again, pressing kisses into Eddie’s sternum. “Gorgeous.”
“Steve...” he whispers in return, grinding as much as he can against the length slotted along his.
Again, too soon, Steve is pulling away, releasing his grip on them both.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already moving to drop his legs back to the floor.
Steve stops him, hoisting his legs back around him and lifting him off the wall. “I’m taking you up on your offer.” He says, twisting off the now-cold stream of water and carefully stepping over the lip of the doorway through the glass door.
“My offer?”
“You said that after your shower, you’d come back out here to the bedroom and I could have my way with you.”
A half whine, half moan curls out of Eddie’s throat to his utter embarrassment.
“D’ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Steve says, grinning mischievously.
Eddie manages to scowl at him as they leave the steamy bathroom, and is dropped down onto the mattress soon after.
“Aw shit!”
“What? What happened?”
It’s cold as shit, that’s what.” The air-cooled temperature of the covers against his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps.
Steve winces, “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”
What was calm and collected confidence flickers off his face, and Eddie can’t have that. “Jus’ come over here and warm me up, big bo–wait,” He sits up and stops Steve when only one of his knees has made it onto the bed. “Lemme look at you.”
He looks down at Steve, and yep. Big Boy is very accurate. He’d felt it against him already, Steve’s too-gorgeous-to-be-real dick; he’s longer for sure, cut and curved up like something out of a wet dream.
“Oh, definitely big boy,” Eddie grins, looking up at Steve’s somewhat embarrassed expression.
“It’s nothing special.” he shrugs, his cheeks heating up as he climbs up Eddie’s damp body. He lowers himself down lay between his legs, his dick slotting itself beside Eddie’s once again.
He hunches over to kiss lightly up the scars on Eddie’s left side, lips brushing along the healed edge of the biggest one. It tickles, then it doesn’t, then does, then doesn’t, his lips pressing halfway onto skin and halfway onto puckered pink flesh.
“Steve..”
“Yeah baby?” he responds after a few more kisses.
“You’re giving me more goosebumps.” Eddie says, somewhat breathless.
Another kiss, “Mmmm.. You’re welcome.”
That shocks a laugh out of him, “You’re such a dork.”
Steve takes one of Eddie’s hands where it lays on the mattress, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back into the mattress beside his head.
“Says you.” he affirms, locking those ridiculous hazel eyes on his.
Eddie’s about to crack off another one liner, say something to…all that, but it’s completely erased from his mind when Steve ducks his head down to find his nipple again.
“Oh fuckin–nnng..” his hips buck up hard into Steve’s, who presses down into him in return.
He can feel it when Steve grins against his skin. “Shut up, asshole, that fee–ee–els so good.”
“Hmm, tell me about it, baby.” He’s grinding down slowly now, adding to the exponentially increasing Steve-addled brain fog he’s currently experiencing.
“Ahhh—I want to but–”
“But what?” Steve’s breath over the spit-slick spot on his chest sends a chill through him.
“Oh fuck–If any of them hear us, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” he tries to warn around another stifled moan.
The Menace is undeterred, swirling his tongue around the little nub open-mouthed and hot once more before moving upwards, trailing his lips up Eddie’s breastbone until he’s sucking kisses into his throat once again. He continues up along the length of his neck until he reaches his ear, “Then you’d better keep it down, huh?”
Well that didn’t help. He lets out a long moan in response, clamping a hand over his mouth way too late.
“You sound so good though,” Steve says, continuing his slow grinding, “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can fuck you properly.”
That pulls another moan from behind Eddie’s palm. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie bucks his hips up as much as he can, but Steve's palms move down to hold him in place.
“Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve chides, trailing his lips down his stomach as he slides back to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.
“Wh–Why not?”
“Because I’d prefer,” a kiss above his belly button, “to choke,” a kiss below, “on my own accord.”, then swallows Eddie down in one go.
“Oh fffuuck—”
Steve hums in agreement around Eddie’s dick and the vibrations course up his spine to rattle around in his brain.
“Oh shit, Stevie, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes, twisting his fingers into Steve’s hair.
In response, Steve starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s on the upstroke, and sucking with fervor on the down.
“Steve, sweetheart–fuck–if you keep going I’m gonna—haah—”
“And what if I want you to?”
“And what if I want to to-together?”
Steve releases him with a wet pop, kissing his way back up to Eddie’s lips, humming in satisfaction when he reaches them, like kissing Eddie is the best part of all this.
And doesn’t that make his head spin.
“All you’d have to do is ask.”
Eddie pulls Steve back to his lips and bucks up into him again. “That’s me asking.”
Steve grins down at him and re-starts his slow, tortuous pace.
He’s rock hard against Eddie’s thigh, and this is getting fuckin’ ridiculous.
“Alright, you know what,” Eddie pushes his hips up hard and flips them over, straddling Steve’s thighs in no time at all.
“Holy shit—“ Steve blinks up at him in astonishment, like he’s surprised that he’s been flipped so easily.
Eddie grinds down onto Steve, “You don’t get to tease me like that, big boy.”
“Is that so?” He chuckles, then groans when Eddie wraps his hand around their lengths. His hands grip onto Eddie’s thighs, squeezing tight to match the hold on them.
Eddie fucks forward into his fist, pulling his hand down to meet each thrust and watching as Steve’s head drops back onto the mattress.
He lets out a long groan. “Eddie…”
“Yeah, Stevie?”
Eddie runs his fingers over both their heads, adding to the slight slip of pre with a well aimed glob of spit that makes Steve hum out a short breathy moan as it makes contact with his head.
More noises of appreciation are pulled from the man under him as he rubs the pad of his thumb through the mess and under the head of Steve’s cock in small circles.
“Mmhm oh fuck..”
“You like that?”
“Mmhmm,” he nods dazedly “Keep moving though, feels so good, Eds.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, wrapping his palm around them again and pushes forward into his fist.
Steve’s head drops back onto the pillow beneath him, “Just like that Eddie, fuck.”
He gives them a few more strokes, then Steve’s hands start to move; his warm palms skirt along the wiry hair on his legs, one traveling around to grab onto Eddie’s horribly non-existent ass, and the other comes up to his remaining nipple, pinching it between two digits.
That did it. The hot coil of pleasure already broiling in his stomach twists even tighter. “Ahh—Stevie..I’m so close, Jesus Christ…”
“Me too..”
“Yeah? Well c’mon sweetheart, give it to me.”
A scant two passes of his hand later, Steve shoots hot across his stomach, and Eddie follows a half stroke later.
He sinks down to the bed against Steve’s heaving ribs, tucking his shoulder under the other man’s arm.
After a few more breaths, Steve pulls Eddie into him and presses his lips to Eddie’s still-damp forehead.
“Ew gross, don’t do that, I’m all sweaty.”
“Don't care.” Steve mumbles softly into his hairline.
In return, Eddie wipes his soiled hand off on Steve’s stomach.
“Ew! Gross!” Steve laughs, shoving Eddie away with no actual intent behind it.
A few minutes later, Steve breaks the comfortable silence. “So,”
The word sinks heavily into Eddie’s gut. “So?”
When Steve doesn’t continue, Eddie turns his head to find Steve gazing at him with soft eyes, and even softer smile.
It morphs into a teasing smirk. “Did it live up to the hype?”
—--
One snooze and another heated shower later, Eddie crawls back into their bed and gets comfy while he listens to Steve pull his clothes back on to go down to the main lodge for the hellions.
He hears a short shuf when Steve’s leg skirts around the end of the bed. “I’ll be back in 15,” he says, kissing the damp hairs on Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, Eds.”
“Hmmm…” he hums in return, cozy as ever, and is out as soon as the door clicks shut.
Too soon, the sounds of the shitheads scrambling into the house interrupts his dozing, the door to the bedroom squeaking open not long after.
“Eds? You awake?”
Instead of answering, Eddie simply opens his arms.
He listens to Steve strip off his clothes, beckoning the man forward again when he feels the end of the mattress sink under the other man’s weight.
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold your horses.”
“My horses have been patient enough.” Eddie grumbles as Steve finally shuffles between the sheets and into his waiting arms.
-x-X-x-
“Dude! What the hell happened to your neck?! Did you get attacked by a vampire?”
“Henderson, you are way too loud for how early it is.”
“It’s 10 am, Eddie.”
“Exactly.” the barstool creaks as he climbs onto it, gratefully accepting the plate of eggs and bacon Argyle passes him.
“Leave him alone, guys.” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie on his stool and kissing his cheek as he passes into the kitchen with his empty plate.
There’s three whole seconds of silence before the younger teens burst out into a cacophony of various outbursts.
“Aw, what? Eddie! Steve’s way too lame for you to be dating!”
“Steve, did you fuck my DM?!”
“I fuckin’ knew it. I told you they’d get together, didn’t I? Dustin, you owe me 10 bucks.”
“I don’t owe you shit, Maxine.”
“Holy shit, congrats guys.” Lucas is his new favorite… Will and El too, nodding along to Sinclair’s assessment.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough; All those heading back to the waterpark better be ready to go in T-minus three minutes otherwise I’m leavin’ without you.” Steve calls out over the noise.
The complaints follow him out of the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room off the entryway.
“Why don’t you guys get yelled at?” Eddie grumbles, poking up a forkful of egg.
Robin snorts a laugh, “Because none of us are sleeping with the babysitter.”
okay, some notes:
steve's mom is a lawyer in this canon and she's the one who paid for eddie's legal counsel/helped with clearing his name after s4
wha?? steve harrington has good parents?? insanity
"canon" hawkins is about an hour outside of indianapolis so i used shelbyville, indiana as my base and from there to boyne mountain is about a 7 hour drive. if they left at 6 am from hawkins, they'd get to the resort around 1 or 2 and have a good couple hours to ski before it gets dark again at 6 (daylight hours in the midwest during winter are a bitch.)
i did way too much research into the ski resort i based this at, only to realize that neither the cabin itself OR the waterpark were there in the 80s. so...let's all just pretend, okay?
the map above is a trail map of the resort from 1985
when i asked my husband what i should add to 'my most recent blorbos' he said 'nice tits!' so that's why that line lmao
who'da thought this'd go from skiing to shower sex? cause i didn't
i got stuck on the smut part of this for way too long and i am so glad i am a) done with it and b) that it actually turned out relatively coherent.
on that note though, i have been looking at this damn fic for so so long that i don't know if it's actually good or what. 'cause to me, it's complete garbled garbage
the title of this is from 'Object of My Desire' by Starpoint
lex i am so sorry this is late ilysm 🫶
#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steveddie#eddeve#background ronance#background jargyle#i also implied:#lumax#henderhop#and#byler#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#mike wheeler#will byers#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#el hopper#dustin henderson#st#stranger things#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#skiing
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what’s that sound? (there’s a funny man at my door) — a spicy six text fic
tags: steddie, mutual pining, getting together, fluff and humor, gay eddie munson, bi steve harrington, idiots in love
featuring background ronance and jargyle!
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#text fic#fluff#humor#background ronance#background jargyle#spicy six
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La Ladra
Harringrove Week Day #2. Prompt: Disappointing Treat
[Part 1 is here]
Steve is on his a-game the next day. Chrissy in tow, they arrive at the coffee shop well before work begins, in the wee hours of the morning. He’s shaved up nicely, and he’s got his best suit on, the dark blue that makes his hair gleam reddish in the sun, and he’s put in his contacts because the last time the guy saw him he had his glasses on like a dweeb.
Chrissy leans on Steve’s arm, her vanilla perfume mixing with the smell swirling in the shop, “I don’t see him.”
Steve doesn’t either. Instead of the blonde guy, there’s a girl at the counter, curly black hair piled on top of her head. She snaps her gum at the customers, clearly pissed off.
“Well,” Steve ignores the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, “We’re already here. Maybe this time you can get something you actually like.”
She sighs, “I guess.”
“They have…” He glances over the menu board, decorated with cartoon spider webs and laughing skeletons. Shit, they have a lot of stuff. He notices the Candy Corn Latte is listed as ‘Eddie’s Creation of the Month.’ Is that the guy’s name? Eddie?
“Ooh,” Chrissy’s eyes glow as she looks at the bakery display, “They have biscotti.”
Steve shrugs, “Okay?” There’s no way the pre-packaged biscotti at this random coffee shop in Seattle is as good as the biscotti they get when they visit his Mom’s family in Tuscany, but it’s the first thing Chrissy’s been interested in, and this is his treat for… well… for flirting with her crush.
Heat prickles the back of Steve’s neck and he swallows, smoothing the front of his suit.
The girl at the front is in rare form, rolling her eyes at the guy in front of them for ordering coffee black, which you would think would be the easiest thing for her.
When Chrissy and Steve slide up to the counter, she eyes them, looking at Chrissy’s arm in his and their suits with vague distaste.
“What can I get you?” She rests her hands on the counter, red nails tapping. She’s wearing a gold necklace that spells out ‘Heather’ in pretty script.
“Can we have two of the biscotti please,” Steve smiles at her.
Heather glances up at Steve, a tart expression on her face, “You want any coffees or anything? The biscotti’s no good unless you can dunk it in something.”
“And two red eyes, please,” Steve digs in his pocket, coming up with another $20 and blanching.
The girl nods, punching into the computer, “That’ll be $8.23.”
Steve hands it to her, and gets his change, like a human for once.
“Um…” Chrissy digs her fingers into Steve’s arm, “The guy who works here… who was here in the morning yesterday…”
Gum snaps like a whip, “Which one?”
“The, uh…” Chrissy swallows hard, “The one with the tattoos.”
Heather crosses her arms, her lips twitching, “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“The cute one,” Chrissy whispers miserably.
The girl behind the counter’s eyes ping to Chrissy’s hand, and then up to Steve’s face, “He in some kind of trouble?”
“No,” Chrissy shakes her head, “Sorry… I… you probably can’t tell me anything.”
The girl rolls her eyes, “Not really. The boss would kill me if I was just giving out names and dick sizes and whatever.”
Chrissy squeaks.
The girl turns away, “I’ll get those drinks for you now.”
It’s the worst biscotti Steve has ever had, by the way. But some of the best coffee. He lets Chrissy have his on the way back to the office.
“He seemed flirty when I went there yesterday. Is he usually flirty with you?” Steve asks.
“I don’t know,” She frowns, “I mean… I hope so. But you never know. He mentioned that his band is playing Saturday, at a place called La Ladra?”
Steve sips his espresso, “Never heard of it. But I can ask Robin.”
“Would you come with me?” Chrissy bites her lip, “And maybe Robin too, so I don’t look… pathetic?”
Steve grips his hand tightly around his small cup, “Yeah I suppose. What kind of band is it?”
She bites into her biscotti and crumbs stick to the corner of her lips, “Ah… I didn’t ask.”
Steve shakes his head, “What’s their name?”
“Corroded Coffin,” Her ponytail bobs, “Will you ask Robin if she’s ever heard of them?”
Steve sighs, “Yeah.”
“You’re the best, Steve,” Chrissy beams, “Maybe there will be someone there for you too.”
Steve hides his face behind his cup, “At a concert for something called Corroded Coffin? I doubt it.”
—
“I’m sure he’s not that hot,” Robin rolls her eyes and brushes her hair back from her face with the back of her hand while she kneads the dough.
“You didn’t see him, Robin,” Steve shakes his head, leaning against the counter and half heartedly stirring the sauce, “He’s like… he looked like an angel or something.”
“Hey, don’t knead more than you need, girl,” Argyle swoops in on Robin’s station, deftly folding the dough over and starting to toss it into the air, “So he looks like Jonny, then.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes, hip checking his boyfriend, “You even seen an angel?”
Argyle grins back at him, laughter booming across every surface of the tiny kitchen, “Looking at one right now.”
Steve flops back against the counter, groaning. He loves his friends, he really does. Only sometimes he feels a little mean and wishes they weren’t so happy together.
Robin shakes her head, “What was the name of the place again, La Ladra?”
“Yeah, the Thief,” Steve frowns, “You know it?”
“Rough place,” Jonathan slices the last ring of pineapple and sticks the last piece in his mouth, “Chrissy definitely shouldn’t go alone.”
“That’s what I thought,” Steve frowns, “So you’ll come with?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jonathan smiles secretly, “Gotta know what ‘Angel’ has a band called Corroded Coffin.”
—
Steve feels like he’s going fucking insane. He met the guy once, doesn’t even know his name. But still the conversation runs through his mind over and over.
He’s at the gym, lifting weights with what is sure to be a glazed, vacant expression on his face, staring into the mirror.
You said he was beautiful. You could have just… gone with it. It’s not a bad line. Stuck around and seen what might have happened.
Only the thing is, he’s not King Steve any longer. He could be, if he had the balls anymore. But once he had a taste of actual love, going back to brief flings and hookups just seemed so… shallow.
When he thinks he sees the coffee shop angel in the mirror, he’s completely convinced that his mind is just playing tricks on him. He’s conjured the image of the guy to torture himself, surely. Besides, he doesn’t have his glasses on. It’s just the way this guy walks, the way he holds his shoulders. The guy disappears into one of the classrooms, and Steve drops the weights, and covers his face with his hands.
It’s just a crush. A silly crush. It happens all the time.
Steve puts the weights up, still breathing hard, and heads to the locker room. He showers, spending too long under the spray trying to get his mind back on track.
When he’s finally dressed, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, he heads out to the gym. Unconsciously (very consciously) he swings to the side where the classes are held. He just needs to see that it’s not the guy from the coffee shop, so he won’t spend the whole day at work obsessing over if it is or it isn’t.
He walks slowly, eying the class in a way that he hopes looks casual, curious even.
The angel is stripped to the waist, sweating like crazy, and laughing a little, a wild jagged laugh. He’s almost hanging off a punching bag like it was a real opponent. His hair is pushed back with a bandana again, this one red. Steve could swear the skeleton tattoo is winking at him. Hey, Pretty Boy, it seems to say.
Steve forces himself to move, but not before the angel catches him. He blinks, long eyelashes going heavy, face frozen in boyish laughter still.
Steve rushes out of the gym like it’s on fire, hops in the Beemer, and doesn’t look back, heart pounding like he’s on a caffeine overdose.
[Also on AO3 here. Part Three - here]
#text post#harringrove#harringroveweek#more billy tomorrow i stg#coffee shop au#harringrove harvest#billy/steve#heather holloway#fanfic#background hellcheer#eine Tasse Kaffee bitte schön#la ladra#billy hargrove#billy x steve#harringrove fic#background jargyle#he’s so obsessed
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perfectly un-ordinary
words: 4,979
ao3
Nancy’s soulmark is perfectly ordinary.
Just a simple bird on a branch. Birdie is written underneath it in loopy, neat handwriting. It fits neatly over two of her ribs, which is a perfectly normal place for it. Nothing extraordinary about it. Just a simple design that represents the nickname given to her soulmate by the most important person in her soulmate’s life. Typically, it’s the nickname that soulmates end up giving to each other, but the handwriting…isn’t Nancy’s.
The handwriting is Steve Harrington’s.
Whoever her soulmate is, Steve Harrington, at some point, will end up calling them Birdie.
Whoever her soulmate is, Steve Harrington will be the most important person in their life.
She stares down at the note in her locker, the all-too-familiar handwriting that makes the spot on her ribs burn, the sweet and surprisingly kind words from the most popular boy in school, who’s asking her out. Nancy can’t imagine her soulmate being someone like Tommy Hagan or Carol Perkins, because they’re awful, and she doesn’t even understand why Steve hangs out with them. But those are Steve’s closest friends.
Nancy goes out with him anyway, because he’s the most popular boy in school, and he’s gorgeous, and she figures she’s got time before he ends up calling someone else Birdie, which means she’ll eventually have to break up with him. But he’s good to her, and while she knows it’s doomed, it’s fun and new. It’s something easy, and they both know they might not last forever, because Steve makes a remark about how her handwriting is so tiny, says some cheesy line about how it must be hard to read her own soulmark, and she lets herself giggle along.
She doesn’t see Steve’s soulmark, not even when they’re both naked and tangled in his sheets; she figures it must be somewhere unique, somewhere out of the ordinary. But she’s careful, keeps hers covered. It’s not hard to, in the dark, if she keeps her upper arm by her side. She buys soulmark patches the next morning, because there’s that weird guilt in her gut, and she can’t make eye contact with herself in the mirror as she adheres the patch to her two ribs.
After the demogorgon, after Barb, after the lights and the gun and the nailbat, Nancy briefly entertains the idea that maybe Steve considers himself the most important person in his life, venomously thinks that, sitting with him at the Hollands’ dinner table, it wouldn’t be out of character for him to be that self-absorbed. She feels guilty almost immediately for thinking that, of course, but…it’s hard.
And when she learns on November first that she’d thrown the fact that they could never work in his face, that she knew they’d been doomed from the start and told him as much, told him he was bullshit, she gets defensive. Brushes him off.
He’s not really her soulmate anyway, so what does it matter?
She can’t imagine her soulmate is Jonathan, either, even with his lips on hers, her body under his, because he and Steve hate each other, but he’s sweet, he’s soft, he wants justice, justice the same way she does. He holds her like she’s something special, even though she can see the surfboard on his collarbone, the word Dude underneath it in Jonathan’s own handwriting. He’s like her, then, open to whatever gender his soulmate might be, boy or girl, and he isn’t afraid to show her things like that. He isn’t closed-off. Not like Steve was.
Steve.
God, Nancy still can’t believe he’d just given her a sad smile and told her to go with Jonathan. It bodes well for staying in his social circle, for perhaps eventually meeting the ever-elusive Birdie, though Nancy’s hope dwindles with every passing day Steve remains at a steady zero friends outside of their ragtag, world-saving group.
She hates that her soulmate is contingent on Steve staying in her life. She hates that he’ll probably have a hand in introducing them to her. She hates the way she still hasn’t apologized. Hates the way Mike says Steve’s name with a sneer every time he’s brought up in conversation, because her little brother is nothing if not loyal, and it hadn’t even been Steve’s fault, not really. Though Steve hadn’t exactly been the best boyfriend, he hadn’t deserved that.
If he’s the most important person in Nancy’s soulmate’s life, Nancy’s eventually going to have to swallow her pride and make amends.
But for now, she has Jonathan. She only has to worry about Jonathan. And she loves him, she thinks, in a way she hadn’t loved Steve. Maybe she hadn’t let herself, because she knew that it couldn’t be him, but she might not be letting herself love Jonathan the way he deserves, either. Maybe she’s not trying hard enough to understand his side of things when they get into an argument the summer before senior year, but she thinks of Dude and their surfboard, and she thinks he might not be letting himself love her the way she deserves, either.
She stops bothering with the soulmark patches that night. Nancy figures that it’s not worth the hassle anymore, if Jonathan’s just gonna keep being his same bullheaded self. So she sets her jaw and keeps investigating, because that’s what she’s good at, and it gets her into a whole heaping helping of trouble. By the end of it, though, after the flesh monster and Russians under the mall, she and Jonathan have more than made up.
And he’s good to her. He’s good to her like no one else has been, he’s safe. He’s familiar enough that it gives her the comfort to get through the rest of the summer. They even make plans to apply to the same colleges—hopefully Emerson, Nancy’s got her fingers crossed that they’ll both be early acceptance—but Jonathan’s moving away. It’ll be harder, the long distance, but Nancy thinks it’ll be worth it to try.
They’ve been through too much together not to try, right? Screw Steve and his Birdie, Nancy will find a way to bend those letters until they read Jon in Will’s handwriting, until the bird on the branch becomes a camera, she’ll do it out of spite, she’ll find a way. Who cares if their relationship isn’t universe-approved? They’re good. They’re familiar. They’re comfortable.
Jonathan calls her in December, after the Byers’ move. Tells her that he found someone whose soulmark is a camera. J-Man to match his Dude. Nancy grits her teeth and tells him she’s happy for him. He whispers that he still loves her, but. But. She wishes him luck with his soulmate and hangs up, spending the rest of the break holed up in her room.
It’s not until the day after New Years that Mike finally snaps.
“You’re a hermit,” he snaps at her when she slips out of her room to get a glass of water, which means he’s worried about her. She scowls at him, though, because she doesn’t want his worry, his pity. Mike rolls his jaw. “You’re—I get that you’re sad about Jonathan dumping you, but you can’t just—”
“He found his soulmate,” Nancy cuts in hollowly.
Mike blinks, shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know,” he mutters, all embarrassed, and Nancy just nods. She’s tired. She’s long since gone back to using the soulmark patches. She doesn’t need to see Steve Harrington’s handwriting mocking her in the mirror. Mike nudges at her ankle with his socked foot. “That sucks.”
She knows Mike doesn’t know how it feels, because he doesn’t have his soulmark yet. He’ll get it next year, sure—and he’s really cocky about guessing that it’s El—but he doesn’t get it yet. He’s been a real asshole, lately, more so than usual, and he smells gross most of the time, doesn’t bother with deodorant if he’s staying at home for the day, and he’s been hanging out with that guy that stands on the cafeteria tables too much, because he’s been dramatic as hell.
But he’s being kind to her now, even if his kindness is a little awkwardly stilted.
“My soulmark handwriting isn’t mine,” she confesses. She doesn’t know why she’s telling him. Their mom doesn’t even know. She’s never shown her own mother her soulmark. “It’s…the most important person in their life isn’t me. I thought I might eventually be Jonathan’s, that we could’ve—it’s stupid. Fucking…forget it.”
“No,” Mike says, all furrowed brows and determination. “It’s important.”
Nancy’s eyes start to well with tears, embarrassingly enough. “I wished it would change,” she whispers. “After Starcourt, I wished it would change. I wanted it to be a camera. I wanted to have different handwriting on my skin. I wanted to change it through…sheer will or some shit? I don’t know.”
Mike nods, like he gets it, even if he doesn’t. “What is it?” he asks, because he has no manners, in spite of their parents’ best efforts. At the hesitation that must show on Nancy’s face, Mike winces, backtracks. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But…does anybody else know what it is?”
Shaking her head, Nancy sniffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “No. I used soulmark patches ’til Starcourt, but…Jonathan didn’t see it after, either,” she says.
Mike makes a face. “Oh, is it on, like, a gross part of your body? ’Cuz if that’s the case, I do not wanna see it—”
“Shut up, Mike,” Nancy laughs, “it’s on my ribs.”
Humming, Mike nods. “Suits you,” he says, and he doesn’t elaborate, and she doesn’t know what he means by that. But it’s nice nonetheless. She’s never heard it before. Mike tilts his head. “You wanna show me?”
Nancy bites her bottom lip. “Yeah, okay,” she murmurs, yanking the side of her shirt up just enough to show her bottom two ribs, and she picks at the soulmark patch that covers Birdie and the branch. “Just don’t, like, be an asshole about it, okay?”
Uncharacteristically serious, Mike nods again and keeps his eyes on her ribs as she peels the patch off. “Do you know whose handwriting it is?” he asks, and Nancy swallows.
“No,” she lies, and he lets her.
“It’s cool,” Mike decides, and Nancy lets her shirt fall. There’s a long moment where neither of them say anything, and Nancy takes the time the silence occupies to fill that glass of water she’d wanted. As she sips on it, Mike rocks on his heels and avoids her eye. “For what it’s worth, El’s probably gonna have your handwriting calling me a dick or something.”
Nancy’s heart seizes. “Oh,” she chokes. “Then, I—I think Birdie probably has yours.”
“Gross. I don’t like it when you’re sappy,” Mike groans, but there’s the hint of a smile on his face.
“You started it,” she scoffs.
Mike wrinkles his nose up at her. “Did not.”
She grins. “Did too.”
He rolls his eyes at her. “Whatever. Loser.”
Nancy goes into the New Year with a little less weight on her shoulders.
Then, because apparently she’s not allowed to relax for extended periods of time anymore, her spring break goes to hell. There’s a dead cheerleader, then a dead friend subordinate, and then she’s taking Robin to go investigate a shot-in-the-dark lead. Robin, Steve’s not-girlfriend, ends up finding something really worthwhile, and something new and exciting turns in Nancy’s gut when Robin goes on a tirade in the director’s office. She’s interested, intrigued, even, and she chocks it up to journalistic instinct for now, because she has more important things to worry about.
And Steve does his stupid heroics, diving into Lover’s Lake, and Robin and Eddie are too busy panicking, so Nancy jumps in first.
It’s only because no one else is going to.
It isn’t because of Birdie.
It isn’t because of Birdie, who she’s never met. It isn’t because if Steve dies, Birdie loses the most important person in their life. It isn’t because she cares whether Steve’s handwriting under the bird and the branch changes to someone else’s. It isn’t because of Robin’s voice cracking as she screams Steve’s name in panic. Nancy isn’t that selfless.
So it’s only because she’s got to be the leader.
That same reasoning is also why she wraps Steve’s wounds. If he bleeds out in the Upside Down because he decided to play the hero, she’s going to kill him. His death would be a major inconvenience, that’s all. That’s all it is.
Nancy stays with Robin, because Steve seems to be having a crisis that Eddie is not helping, and maybe it’s a little vindictive to leave a stressed-out Steve with the guy that refuses to respect his personal space, but Nancy is stressed out, too, and can’t bring herself to feel guilty about it. And Robin is funny, makes a joke about Nancy needing to hire a maid in the Upside Down version of her house. Nancy’s glad she’d decided to keep Robin company rather than either of the two boys.
Not that she has anything against Eddie, save for his theatrics. And her grudge against Steve is almost entirely baseless at this point. Whatever. Emotions take too much effort to parse through, and Nancy has to save that effort for sawing the end off a shotgun.
Which is not-so-technically a felony.
Steve tells her that his dream, with the six kids that Nancy doesn’t want and the white picket fence that makes Nancy nauseous, was about her.
“You’re not my soulmate,” she tells him, grim and annoyed. They have more important things to handle than his desperate, end-of-the-world delirium driven by blood loss and his crippling fear of dying alone.
“Right, yeah, I know that,” he says, ears tinged red with embarrassment. “Sorry to—”
“I don’t want an apology,” she snaps. “I want to kill Vecna.”
Steve nods, gestures for her to move ahead. “Let’s—so let’s go, then,” he says, and he sounds so horribly distraught. “Robin’s, um—she’s probably waiting on us to catch up.”
Nancy moves ahead wordlessly. She doesn’t want Steve’s advances, isn’t interested in rekindling things. She has no idea why he’s trying to fan flames that are nonexistent on her end, why he seems so confused at his own actions, and she doesn’t really care to find out. Not when they have to kill Henry Creel, not when there’s so much on the line.
And they do.
Kill Henry Creel, that is.
Not without consequence. Not without Steve carrying a barely-alive Eddie out of the Upside Down, and not without Max breaking three of her four limbs. But they’re both still alive, albeit in the hospital, Hawkins is still intact, and Nancy will count it as a win. Hopefully, it’s the final win. She can’t imagine having to go through something like this again.
The Byers family comes back into town, Mike, El, Murray, and Hopper in tow, the last of which is incredibly surprising, though through a long explanation about a Russian prison and an escape helicopter, Nancy supposes it makes sense. Things are tense and awkward between her and Jonathan, and between Jonathan and Mike, for whatever reason, and Nancy’s too focused on putting together a cover story with Owens that’ll clear Eddie’s name to bother with all that.
Birdie remains uninvestigated on her ribs, at least for a while.
She gets closer with Robin and Eddie, and getting closer with Robin means patching things up with Steve, because the two are virtually inseparable. It’s a painful and drawn-out conversation, full of begrudging apologies, painful stitches over a wound that’s gone untended for too long. It sucks, but it’s necessary. Nancy knows it’s necessary, and not just for the sake of her friendship with Robin, not just for Birdie’s sake, but for her own, as well.
And for Steve’s. She’d hurt him, after all, and he’d been owed an apology for a long time.
They’re smoking in Eddie’s new government-gifted trailer—something Nancy had never thought she’d ever be doing—the first time the topic of soulmates-slash-soulmarks is brought up in their new little friend group.
“Have any of you guys met your soulmate?” Eddie asks, taking a long drag from the joint, and Robin shifts uncomfortably.
“I think I have,” she murmurs, “but I don’t know. I feel like…like my soulmate would’ve said, you know? But it’s a pretty common nickname for a pretty common name, so…”
Eddie nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Plus, it sucks when your soulmark’s handwriting isn’t your own, because then you have to rely on other people’s nicknames for your soulmate,” he groans, and Nancy sits up straighter. Eddie passes the joint to Steve. “And, like, then you have to ask people what their handwriting looks like, which makes them give you the saddest looks you’ve ever seen.”
“No one’s seen my soulmark but Mike,” Nancy says quietly. “So…at least I get what the first part’s like.”
“Your soulmark has someone else’s handwriting?” Steve asks her around a mouthful of smoke, and he sounds curious with just a hint of hurt, like he can’t believe she hasn’t told them. “D’you know whose it is?”
Nancy just shrugs.
“My soulmark has someone else’s handwriting, too,” Robin says. “I don’t know whose handwriting it is, either.”
There’s a little bit of guilt Nancy feels at that, because Robin and Eddie clearly think she’s able to commiserate with them about not being the most important person in their soulmates’ lives and not knowing who that other person is, but she can’t, because she knows exactly who that person is, and he’s in the room with them. Nancy takes the joint when Steve passes it to her and takes a quick pull, coughing slightly.
Eddie grins wolfishly at the sound. She flips him off. “Look, all I know is that when I meet my soulmate, we’re gonna have some words,” Eddie jokes, and Nancy laughs along with Steve and Robin. Eddie nods at the rest of them. “What do your marks look like? You don’t have to show it if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”
Neither Robin nor Steve make any move to show theirs.
“It’s a bird,” Nancy says. “I, um—it’s a weird nickname. I don’t even know if—”
She cuts herself off. She can’t come out and say that she doesn’t know whether Steve’s even met Birdie yet. Mercifully, no one presses further.
“Mine’s a chart,” Eddie offers. “There’s, like, two categories, and whoever wrote them has the same handwriting as the, uh…the nickname.”
“A chart?” Robin asks, brows furrowed. “What kinda chart?”
“It’s just on, like, a piece of paper or something, I don’t know,” Eddie huffs with a frustrated shrug, and Steve lays back until his head’s on Robin’s lap.
“I know who mine is,” he says quietly.
That’s news to all of them, it would seem.
Immediately, Eddie and Robin jump into hounding him about who it is, and Nancy is content to sit back and let it happen until Steve’s face screws up into an expression she only remembers from hazy, drunken memories. “Both of you, shut up!” she says, and they do, because even outside of the Upside Down, her voice carries some authority.
“Thanks,” Steve murmurs.
Nancy nods.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you figured it out,” Robin tuts, and Steve reaches up to tap her nose with his pointer finger.
“You’ve seen his soulmark?” Eddie asks her, and Robin nods, a glint in her eye Nancy recognizes as the same glint she’d had there during her speech in the director’s office.
It makes Nancy’s face go hot.
It’s clear that Steve doesn’t want to keep talking about it, so Nancy pushes the conversation towards a debate on what movie they’ll be watching that night. As Robin and Eddie bicker, she locks eyes with Steve, who gives her a small, grateful smile. It feels good, feels like the real beginning of a genuine friendship.
And Nancy isn’t used to having this many friends. Sure, she’s surrounded by people at the school newspaper, but now she’s got people to walk through the halls with at school, people to sit next to in the cafeteria, and she hasn’t had that since…well, since Barb. It’s been years since she’s had a sleepover with friends, and she’s been having them almost every other day. It’s warm, and it’s good, and Nancy feels like she has a community to fall back on, people her age who really get her. It’s wonderful and nerve-wracking all at once.
“Whose handwriting is on your soulmark?” Steve asks her on a warm spring evening in April, while Robin and Eddie are bustling away in the kitchen in Steve’s big house.
For some reason, Nancy finds herself feeling comfortable enough to tell the truth. “Yours,” she says, a quiet confession, and he blinks in surprise.
“I’m the most important person in someone’s life? Someone other than my soulmate?” he asks, barely above a whisper, and she can’t help herself—she hugs him.
It’s not long after that before Eddie approaches her in a frenzied hurricane of hair, gangly limbs, and just a touch of panic.
“I think I need to show you my soulmark,” he tells her, and before she can get a word in edgewise, because he has just burst rather unceremoniously into her bedroom, Eddie starts to pace. “Because, I—well, it’s complicated, because I think I figured out who it is, and if I’m right, then it means things might be awkward between you and me, but I also don’t think they will…? I mean, he says he’s over—and you say you’re over—”
“Eddie,” Nancy says, “slow down.”
Eddie unbuckles his pants. Nancy whirls her head away.
“No, it’s not—! Look!” Eddie tells her, and Nancy puts her hands over her eyes, peeking through her fingers at him.
There’s a big square on his hip with two columns—the chart, she realizes as she puts her hands down—and the titles on each column read You Rule and You Suck with some tallies under the second column, but none under the first. In the same handwriting, Dingus is scrawled underneath it. Nancy’s seen that handwriting before. It’s the same handwriting from the notes she’d borrowed from Robin the other day because she’d skipped out on first period to chase a scoop.
“Your soulmate is Steve,” she realizes.
Eddie lets out a pained sort of noise. “And it’s—and you—! But you guys aren’t, so I figured it’d be fine, but—!” he cuts himself off with another pained half-scream, redoing his pants.
“Steve and Robin are the most important people in each other’s lives,” Nancy breathes.
Birdie.
“I know! And I’m not—I don’t want to disrespect that, I’m just—Nancy, I’m freaking out!” Eddie says through clenched teeth.
“Steve is the most important person in Robin’s life,” Nancy whimpers.
Birdie. Bird on a branch. Steve’s handwriting.
Robin. A robin on a branch.
Birdie.
“Okay, I feel like our crises are branching a little here,” Eddie says, hands steepled over his mouth, and Nancy whips her shirt off. Eddie mimics her earlier actions, turning on his heel in the other direction immediately. “Woah, Wheeler, I do not need to see—”
“My soulmark—my soulmate—Eddie, look,” she tells him.
Eddie winces as he turns around, and Nancy jabs a finger pointedly at her ribs. “Birdie,” Eddie reads aloud. His eyes go wide. “Oh, holy shit.”
“Steve’s soulmark is the only one of ours that isn’t different handwriting,” she reminds him. “Are you…okay with not being the most important—”
“Wheeler, I’m not stupid enough to hope to come close to Robin,” Eddie tells her. “Are…you okay with it? I mean, it’s different for you, someone’s apparently more important to you, too.”
Nancy’s mind flashes back to that conversation in the kitchen after New Years. “I’m okay with it,” she says, because she is. “Is—do either of them—”
“Steve knows,” Eddie says. “He knows and he didn’t tell me—”
“That’s not because you’re you, it’s because he’s self-sabotaging,” Nancy says. “But Robin said she thought she might know—”
“None of that from you, either,” Eddie snaps. “This isn’t a goddamn pity party.”
Nancy balks. “Then what the hell is it?”
Eddie waves his hands out manically. “I don’t know!”
Nancy throws her shirt back on, flops back against her bed. “Shit,” she grits out, “we should tell them. We have to.”
The mattress dips beside her. “Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “We do.”
“Does soulmark handwriting ever change?” Nancy wonders. “Not that I’m—like you said, I’d never hope for it, I’m just curious.”
“It’s ridiculously rare, but my uncle’s soulmate’s did,” Eddie whispers. “It changed from his soulmate’s to mine the day I was sent to live with him.”
Nancy can’t help but smile at that. It’s sweet. “If that’s the case, I think Mike’s future soulmate might have to cycle through, like, five different handwritings depending on who’s pissed him off the least that day,” she jokes, and Eddie laughs.
Silence washes over them. It’s comfortable, even if it’s unlike Eddie to be so silent.
He threads his fingers through hers. “Fuck it. Maybe we’ll eventually be each other’s most important people,” Eddie muses. “Y’know, since our soulmates are attached at the hip, we’ll probably end up like that, too.”
Nancy thinks she wouldn’t mind that all too much.
She ends up taking a page out of Steve’s book, surprisingly enough, and making her way to Robin’s second-story bedroom window that very same night. When she taps on the glass, Robin falls out of her chair and ends up scrambling over on all fours to open the window up. It’s so unbelievably charming. Robin helps her in, and the feel of her skin against Nancy’s makes her shudder, so thrilling that Nancy’s grin probably makes her seem like a crazy person.
“Jesus Christ, Nance, what are you doing here?” Robin hisses. “You probably could have come in the front door, I don’t think my parents really care—”
“I needed to talk to you. Didn’t have time for pleasantries,” Nancy says, breathless. “You’re—I need to tell you something. Something important.”
Robin goes a little pale. “Oh, shit, is this, like, a Code Red situation? Are we—did it come back?” she whispers, and Nancy shakes her head.
“No, it’s good, I—at least, I hope you think it’s good,” Nancy says, and Robin quirks a confused smile at her. Nancy pulls the side of her shirt up carefully. “I…have reason to think this nickname belongs to you.”
Robin’s hand is trembling as she reaches out to brush her fingers against the lettering, tracing the shape of the bird on the branch. The robin on the branch. Warmth spreads from the spot on the mark Robin had touched. “I—it’s you? I get to have you as my soulmate?” Robin asks, and she makes it sound like a profound honor, like it’s too good to be true, like Nancy is worth that much love.
“If you’ll have me,” Nancy whispers. “I’m stubborn and judgemental and I’ve hurt people, I’m too single-minded sometimes and it makes me withdraw into myself. I’m not good at loving other people and I make bad decisions and—”
“You’re everything,” Robin tells her.
It’s too much.
“I’ve been self-destructing about my soulmate since I got my mark,” Nancy tells her. “I thought—I dated Steve, knowing it was his handwriting, a-and then I dated Jonathan, knowing it couldn’t be him, and I’m so glad it wasn’t either of them, because you’re—Robin, you’re smart and you’re driven and you’re so, so kind to me. You’re beautiful.”
Robin’s breath hitches. “Nancy—”
“I don’t want to self-destruct with you,” Nancy says. “And I won’t. I don’t think you’d let me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Robin agrees. “I like you too much for that.”
“Let me see yours?” Nancy asks, and Robin nods, face flushed as she rolls up her pyjama pant leg to reveal her upper thigh.
There’s a spiral of memo pad pages surrounding a gorgeous fountain pen, and Nance is scrawled down the side of Robin’s thigh in Mike’s handwriting. Nancy traces the lines of the pages with her fingers, slides her palm over the pen. It’s beautiful. Intricate. As detailed as her own, and that makes something warm blossom in Nancy’s chest.
To her surprise, Robin’s mark fills with color, and the two of them watch in awe as ink splotches start to appear on the pages. Robin gasps. “Nancy, the bird—”
Nancy looks down, at where she’s still keeping her shirt raised, and sure enough, it’s the colors of an actual robin. “Holy shit,” Nancy breathes, more excited than she thinks she’s ever been in her entire life. Her eyes lock with Robin’s. “Can I…can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Robin says, voice hoarse, and Nancy surges forward, letting go of her shirt so she can keep one hand on Robin’s thigh, on Robin’s soulmark, while cupping her face with the other.
Their lips meet, and it’s wonderful. Nancy hums contentedly as Robin’s mouth moves against hers, slow and gentle. Her hands flit up to link around the back of Nancy’s neck, and her cheek grows warmer under Nancy’s touch. Robin’s clearly not a very experienced kisser, but Nancy doesn’t mind at all, perfectly content to nip at Robin’s bottom lip and draw pretty little noises from her throat. Robin pulls back after a moment to catch her breath, and Nancy smiles at her.
“I’m glad it’s you,” she murmurs.
Robin beams at her. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”
And just like that, Nancy doesn’t think her soulmark is very ordinary at all anymore.
#ronance#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#stranger things#nancy wheeler centric#ronance soulmates au#very minor steddie and jargyle#like they are Very Much Background#also featuring mike and nancy being good siblings#and eddie and nancy being friends#platonic stobin#steve and robin are the most important people in each others' lives and you cannot change my mind#my fic#cross posted on ao3
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Clueless Steddie AU where Steve is Cher. His dad is a big hot shot lawyer who isn’t around much and can be pretty mean at times. He cheated on Mrs. Harrington with Eddie’s mom. Mr. Harrington felt guilty about it when both Steve’s mom died and Eddie’s abandoned him so he had to go live with his uncle, so he started financially supporting Eddie.
Even though Wayne didn’t want to take any kind of charity, Eddie of course vows to take this rich douchebag for all he’s worth. He butts heads with Steve at every turn because Steve’s figured out what Eddie is up to. Eddie doesn’t expect to care about Steve or feel bad about his dad basically leaving him alone in that big mansion.
Eddie holds onto the idea that Steve is a stuck up brat who’s self obsessed, even as he sees Steve helping others. He watches Steve (and Robin) get their gym teacher Jim Hopper and their art teacher Joyce Byers together. He knows that Steve is responsible for helping Will find his confidence and the dnd kids having a place to play when everyone thought they were playing a devils game. His blanket of protection has extended to people like Robin Buckley, the local lesbian who never gets bullied, even though she’s a little weird and a lot loud about her relationship with Nancy Wheeler. In fact, they all seem to be at the top of the social pyramid.
Still, Steve and Eddie don’t see eye to eye. When Jonathan Byers shows an interest in Argyle, Steve makes it known he can do better than the local skateboarding pothead, even though Argyle is the nicest guy on the planet. Eddie takes personal offense to the connotations behind the sentiment and sides with Argyle, inviting Jonathan over to console him and tell him the exact opposite.
It backfires in Eddie’s face when Jonathan blows up at Steve and tells him to stay out of his personal life because they’re not even real friends. Steve gets quiet after that, keeping to himself and hanging out less with his friends, outside of Robin. The house seems even emptier, even though Steve’s there more. He tries dating a few people that never come home with him at the end of the night.
Eddie watches him in the halls, eyes following Robin and Nancy, Mike and Will, Lucas and Max, and Jonathan and Argyle (once they do eventually get together). He always has this pained wistful look that never gets easier to look at head on. Eddie knows how much Steve craves intimacy. It’s written all over his face.
And yeah, Steve has some flaws, but he doesn’t understand why these people keep turning Steve down. He takes care of the people he loves, even to his own detriment. He’s kind, but with a fun mean girl streak that’s more entertaining than harmful to anyone. Every time Eddie sees Steve, he’s tempted to run his fingers through his soft hair. Eddie’s pretty sure Steve spends hours grooming himself to look as perfect as he does every day.
Meanwhile, Steve thinks there’s something wrong with him. At the end of Steve’s most recent failed date, Eddie was of course staying in their mansion while Wayne was working night shifts and came down the stairs at the exact moment Steve was coming home, like he was waiting for the opportunity to make fun of Steve.
They’ve gotten closer over the past few months, less biting remarks and more time watching dumb cartoons or mtv on the couch. Steve had to call Eddie for help once, when his phone died and his car was stolen. Eddie had left band practice to come pick Steve up in the middle of nowhere, much to the chagrin of his band mates. He hadn’t heard the end of it from Gareth about being the knight in shining armor rescuing the little rich boy. Eddie sticks up for Steve when Mr. Harrington’s coworkers bash Steve’s intelligence and tell him he’ll never be as smart as his father.
Still, Steve’s surprised when Eddie meets him halfway on the stairs to talk about the failed date. Some guy called him a pretty face with nothing going on upstairs and tried to get into his pants without a thought to how his words affected Steve. Eddie reassured Steve he wasn’t an idiot and listed off all the nice things Steve had done for others recently. He didn’t realize Eddie was even paying him any attention, let alone committing those moments to memory. Eddie starts ranting about how dumb all these people Steve’s dated are and how Steve deserves better. So Steve leans over and kisses Eddie, pulling away to tell him he’s someone better.
Also posted on twitter.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#clueless au#clueless#background#ronance#jargyle#byler#max x lucas#katie writes
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Stranger Things season 5 endgame couples.
#jargyle#and#ronance#sweeep#like what else could the matching color backgrounds mean#argyle stranger things#stranger things#stranger things 4#jonathan byers#argyle x jonathan#jonathan x argyle#jongyle#argyle#nancy wheeler#robin buckley
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#this is what we are doing now#if the background is too busy I'm putting the text inside a blue background to make it readable!!!#stranger things#my edit#texts from last night#argyle#eduardo franco#jonathan byers#charlie heaton#jargyle
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STWG Prompt: Chocolate Covered Strawberries
CW for discussion of period-typical homophobia
The floorboards in the doorway of the kitchen squeaked, they had since the Byers family had moved into the house and it had gotten on Jonathan's frayed nerves the first hundred times he'd heard it. By now, though, it was just a background noise in the usually subdued home. When he heard it while leaning over the stove, he already knew who it was. "Hi El."
"Hello." He could picture her path across the tiled floor, could hear her near-silent steps. "What are you doing?"
"Making chocolate covered strawberries." His tongue poked out in concentration as he twisted the strawberry skewered on toothpicks, doing his best not to drip melted chocolate everywhere.
"Why?" She reached out to stick her finger in the chocolate, but he easily batted her hand away before she could touch it. Will had tried the same thing before getting banished from the kitchen.
"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I thought it might be nice to make some for uh... for a friend." He set it down on the parchment paper he'd laid on the counter and picked up one that had already cooled off. "Here, you can have this one."
She grinned at him and took an eager bite of it. "Your friend Argyle?"
"Yeah, uh... you know, now that Nance and I aren't seeing each other, Argyle and I are both single, so I thought... yeah, that it would be nice." He felt his face turning pink and turned his focus to skewering another strawberry. If nothing else, it would be a nice snack while they got high in the van..
"Do you like him?"
"Do I- of course I like him." Jonathan glanced at El. "He's my best friend."
"Do you like him the same way you liked Nancy, though?" Her eyes were curious, he didn't think she had any ill intent, but he pulled his shoulders in like he needed to protect himself.
He fidgeted with another strawberry and thought for a moment. "...is mom home?" He didn't even know if she like, knew anything about queer people. That they were-
They were what? Jonathan glanced over at El, who had an innocent look of puzzlement on her face. Shit. Maybe that lab hadn't taught her to hate queers, maybe she'd managed to stay unexposed this long. But it couldn't be his responsibility, right?
"She left with Will after you made him leave the kitchen. He needs a new sweatshirt." El reached for a strawberry and he let her take it.
"Um. Right. Okay." He could do this, he could totally do this. "So you know how you like Mike?"
Her nose scrunched up. "I guess."
"Good enough." He had a feeling that relationship wouldn't last much longer. "That's... we get told that girls are supposed to like boys and boys are supposed to like girls. And that's fine, that's usually how it shakes out anyway." He held his breath for a moment. "But sometimes, um, sometimes boys like... they don't like girls. They like other boys. Or they like boys and girls. And it's the same way for girls. And were told it's not supposed to work like that, but it does anyway, no matter how hard you try, you just... can't make it go away. How hard other people try..." He shook his head, trying to shake away the thoughts about his father with it. "It's not wrong, though. Even if a lot of people think it is, it just... it just is, you know?"
"...so you do like Argyle?"
Jonathan's shoulders slumped a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I like Argyle. A lot."
"He is very pretty." El smiled and patted his arm.
"Yeah, he really is." Jonathan let out a breathy little laugh. "But- but you can't tell anyone, okay? Because some people think it's wrong and they could... they could hurt us."
"Okay." El nodded, expression turned serious. "I will not tell anyone." She wrapped her arms around his waist and he stiffened, still getting used to her occasional bouts of touchiness, and then she was leaving the kitchen with a chocolate covered strawberry in hand.
It turned out that chocolate and strawberry was one of Argyle's favorite flavor combinations, right next to pineapple and pizza. After tasting it on his lips, Jonathan thought it might be one of his favorites too.
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tbh i am past enjoying st*ddie in just about any capacity when i have to see it against my will in literally every tag that isnt for a popular white boy
#why do they tag literally the most background appearances of ships +characters#why do they bait with another ship before making it st*ddie#ronance and jargyle shippers want answers#just also. why does every character's existence and their content need to revolve around getting those two together#i dont hate the ship atp im just deeply resentful and just dont want to see it lmao#like it was fun at first but GOD i just want to use tumblr and ao3 without it being aggressively over/mistagged#anti steddie#sure tagging that#in which i talk abt things
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HI I WROTE A JONATHAN COMES OUT TO NANCY SCENE WHO WANTS TO READ IT
i literally wrote this in an hour while i should’ve been working, it’s not perfect, it’s barely edited, it’s just kinda. there. tadaaa! this does belong to my Sarge Series on ao3, set after the events of (still unfinished but we’re getting there) I’m The First In Line, but literally has nothing to do with the series other than Steddie exists and the same zine reappears. yay.
[set after nancy has come back from university for the summer; during the school year, she and jonathan have decided to take a break because long distance is hard. they’re sitting on the hood of Jonathan’s car after getting coffee, near a park.]
“So, um,” said Nancy, trying to lift the awkwardness that had settled around them like dust in an explosion, “how’s Hawkins when there aren’t any monsters around?”
“It’s good, it’s good.” said Jonathan. “it’s peaceful. I’m actually spending more time in Indianapolis. I’m taking some courses at Tech.”
Nancy nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ve been in the area a few times. I like the bookshop with the cat in the window.”
“Next to the park? Yeah, it looks like your kind of place.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“So, have you… been seeing anyone?” said Nancy. her eyes twinkled beautifully in the sunlight, her shy smile highlighting them just so.
“uh, yeah, actually.” said Jonathan, ducking his head down and picking at the sleeve of his paper coffee cup, “Argyle.”
Nancy’s brows twitched. “I meant, romantically.”
Jonathan’s fingers jumped and made a rip in the paper. “Me…me, too.” he said quietly.
They sat in silence again, but all Jonathan could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. He smoothed down the rip he had made in the sleeve and dared to peek up at Nancy.
She was rapidly and forcefully blinking, staring up into the trees. Her lips were sucked into her mouth, and her eyes were shining.
“…Nance?” said Jonathan quietly.
She held up a hand as if to say stop. He did, nodding quietly back down at his cup, trying to still his shaking hands.
She sniffled quietly.
“Nancy.” Offered Jonathan again. He was going for compassionate, but it came out like a scared child.
“Sorry.” She said, voice shaking. “I’m… I’m happy for you, I’m… I’m trying to be happy for you. I just…” she shook her head and took a shaking breath. “I’m just… I thought what we had was real.”
Jonathan gaped at her. He hadn’t considered that reaction. He had expected something very Ted Wheeler-esque to come out of her mouth instead, which was why he had insisted on parking only a five minute walk from her house, so that he wouldn’t have to drive her home while she lectured him about proper society.
He chastised himself. Here he was, yet again, underestimating Nancy Wheeler.
She sniffled again, and he realized that he had been open mouth staring at her for at least a minute in silence.
“Nancy, no, it was real.” He said. “I… I’m bisexual.”
She sniffled again, but finally looked back at him to meet his eyes.
“You’re what?” She said.
“I… hang on.” He hopped off the hood of the car, opened the passenger side door, and began digging through the glove compartment. He found what he was looking for with a triumphant little ha.
He closed the car door and passed Nancy the book. He plucked a leaf off of a nearby bush.
“The… restaurant at the end of the universe?” Said Nancy, voice still wobbling some as she examining the book curiously. “I’ve read this, I don’t understand.”
“No, uh,” he said, and handed her the leaf. The gesture only served to confuse her more, but at least she had stopped crying.
“The bookmark.” He said, shrugging. “The leaf is so I don’t lose my place when you take out the bookmark.”
She gave him a look like he had just told her that two and two made three, but delicately flipped to the page where he had kept the zine as his bookmark, and put the leaf in its place.
The zine was still folded open to the article on bisexuality.
Her round eyes met his curiously, and he nodded to the article, to say, read it. His hands were clenching and unclenching in his jacket pockets, and he nervously bounced on his toes.
She directed her gaze back to the paper in her hands, placing it against her knee to smooth out its crumpled nature. It had spent a lot of time in Jonathan’s back pocket before he’d had the courage to read it.
She squinted at the paper for what felt like an eternity.
Jonathan stared up at the trees, wishing that he had brought his camera or something to distract himself. There was a birds nest nearby that occasionally had a little feathered head pop out of it. He wasn’t much of a wildlife photographer, but that would’ve been a nice moment to catch.
He glanced back at Nancy, who had her finger on the page to guide herself. She was about halfway down the article, but her finger was moving up and down throughout the page. She was probably reading and rereading each sentence. Her lips were moving silently as she read.
It would probably be too distracting to steal his book back from where she had placed it beside her thigh.
He probably wouldn’t have the right amount of focus to read it, anyway.
He continued to bounce on the balls of his feet as he examined the grass below him.
“So,” she said slowly, “This Dr. Kinsey… he thinks most people are…?”
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly with a shrug, “theoretically, at least.”
“I don’t think I am.” She said.
“I mean, you’re not most people.” He gave her a shy smile, ducking his head again, “neither is S…someone I got it from.”
It suddenly struck him that out of the four queer men he knew of in Hawkins, Nancy had dated half of them. She seemed to have a type.
She narrowed her eyes at his strange grammar, but brushed past it.
“And you just kept this as a bookmark? Jonathan, that’s… that’s not safe.”
Jonathan couldn’t help but smile brightly at her concern. If she was worried about him, that meant he hadn’t lost her entirely.
“Yeah, uh, the only people allowed to sit shotgun in my car are the people that already know. So.” He shrugged.
Some of the tension left her shoulders. “So your mom and Hopper?” She said.
“Not Hop, not yet.” He said. “I’m sure it’ll be okay, he can just be… old fashioned sometimes.”
She nodded.
“El and Will know, though.” He bit back a giggle before saying, “El says I’m not allowed to break up with Argyle because he makes really good pizza.”
Nancy aww’d, a sweet smile on her face.
“You don’t… you’re not sick, right? With…?” She said quietly.
There was the Ted Wheeler influence. He’d been waiting for it; he had heard how Mike had had a very similar reaction to Eddie, which had scared the shit out of Will.
“No.” He said, with finality. “No, we’re safe.”
She nodded, looking relieved. She smiled back down at the zine in her hands, absently flipping through the pages with her thumb.
“Who else knows?” She asked, “I… I know this is a big deal, so I don’t want to…”
“Uh, mostly, mostly my family, minus Hop. So far, anyway. And, um, the guys that… gave me. That.” He nodded at the zine.
“Guys?” She emphasized the s, surprised. He nodded. “Okay, I get the feeling you don’t want me to ask who, but, how many?”
He paused, trying to think over what kind of connections Nancy would make, and if those connections would lead her to Steve and Eddie.
She was examining him carefully, and he had the feeling that his silence was almost more telling than his words would be.
“…Two.” He said, finally. Steve was still publicly ‘dating’ Robin, so surely she wouldn’t make the connection. She might think of Eddie, he thought, but he seemed much more comfortable being out.
“Two, as in, a couple, two?”
“…might be.” He avoided her gaze, looking back at the birds nest instead.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Nance.” He said firmly. “I appreciate that you’re okay with this, but now is not the time or place for investigative journalism.”
“Right.” She said, and her eyes went wide. “Right! Sorry.” She looked down at the paper in her lap, blushing.
He decided to divert the subject, wanting to bask in the relief that they were okay. “You know, we should all get dinner sometime. The three of us, you me, Argyle. If you’re okay w—“
“Oh my god!” She nearly shrieked at the zine.
“What, what!” He said, alarmed, rushing to her side.
She held up the zine. Oh. She had flipped to the page before the bisexuality article.
“Yeah, no, that’s not Eddie.” He said. “Turns out a lot of punks and metalheads just kind of look like that.”
She squeaked out an oh. “He’s just so… naked. I didn’t expect it.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed, Nance.” He said, teasing.
“I am not—“ she glared at him, blush high on her cheeks. “You said something about dinner with Argyle? I hear he makes great pizza.”
Jonathan laughed, feeling lighter than air. “Absolutely. But I’m warning you, he’s putting pineapple on it.”
#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#jargyle#platonic jancy#background steddie#Amboolents Originals#Farah's Fic#Amboolents Fic
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zombie apocalypse au where the apocalypse started while the party is at a summer camp and the older teens were camp counselors there. they all travel together to help the kids find their parents — they find El on the way. brenner is the one who created the whatever causes zombies. vecna is patient one, who isn’t out of his mind. Eleven is the only surviving patient who was immune to it or smth. the griup travels to clarke to make a cure. maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t.
#longfic idea i’ll never write#unsteddie aus#au content: zombie apocalypse#eventual steddie#eventual rovickie#or whatever robin/vickie would be#background jargyle/jancy#idk what else#i dont usually write the party
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Where the 20 Chain Links Lead
Steve has always known he’s stupid. While it wasn’t exactly something he took pride in, it hadn’t really ever bothered him until he started socializing with what could probably be described as some of the smartest people in Hawkins. It doesn’t help that most of those people were so much younger than him.
A character study of one Steve Harrington, and a slowburn Steddie fix-it fic.
Masterlist
Read on Ao3
Read on tumblr:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
3.1>> 3.2>>
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 only on Ao3 currently
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Accepting requests to be tagged as things progress
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and robin#robin and steve#platonic stobin#dustin henderson#robin buckley#lucas sinclair#side ronance#side/background jargyle#eleven hopper#steddie fanfiction#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#writing#my writing#dyslexic steve harrington#implied dubious consent#dubious consent#abuse#autistic steve harrington#bi awakening#child abuse#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#20 chain links#fandsart
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Hiiiii ! So for the prompt anything that is ronance centric, maybe something involving patching each other up after the battle !
ok so this is actually part one of a two chapter fic, bc i got another ronance prompt that i think i can combine with this one timeline wise! of course this is still able to be read alone, but that second part should be up in a day or two! this’ll also be on Ao3 in about half an hour! also this has background jargyle and steddie in it, but it’s like very minor
tw for descriptions of injury, brief mentions of weed, and discussion of death. it’s really nothing bad tbh
Robin hissed as warm, soapy water rushed over a large wound below her left knee. She threw her head back, inhaling sharply as she tried to contain her pain.
Nancy glanced up at her apologetically as she pressed a wet washcloth into the injured area. “Sorry.” She muttered, rubbing the fabric over the bloodied skin. “It’ll be over soon.”
“I can handle it.” Robin said through clenched teeth. “Not like I haven’t been through worse.”
She meant it as a joke, she really had. But instead of earning a laugh it was met with a frown and a heavy silence that weighed down on both of their shoulders.
She stayed quiet after that, holding her breath as Nancy continued to tend to her wounds, cleaning and bandaging them. She started with the largest ones. The one below her knee where she had fallen and her skin had ripped against a sharp rock. The one near her shoulder where a bat had come down and taken a nasty bite out of the flesh there, leaving a decent sized chunk missing. That one was wrapped in Nancy's thin white jacket to contain the blood flow for as long as possible. That one would probably have to be looked at by a doctor. That one, they didn’t have time to fix completely. Not right now. So some soap and a tight bandage would have to do.
There was another, on her heel, that had been snapped at by a demodog in the middle of a chase. It has grabbed at the skin, ripping it off and leaving her to try and run while a trail of blood was left behind.
That was the one Nancy was tending to when she finally spoke.
“What would you be doing right now? If all of this had never happened.” She asked quietly, like she was scared to even think about it. Robin tilted her head.
“I don’t know.” She admitted, letting the tension in her shoulders drop as scenarios played through her head. “Maybe looking for colleges? Still working at Scoops to pay for my tuition? Lurking in the shadows, still afraid of being myself because I didn’t have anyone who understood me?” She twisted her head around to look at Nancy. “What about you? Where would you be?”
She shrugged in response. “Probably on my way to Emerson. I was so excited to go to school. Away from my family and Hawkins and all the pressure. Sometimes I wish it hadn’t all happened, you know? That I could’ve spent my high school years like every other teen girl. Getting into trouble behind my parents back, dating boys and going to parties and being a star student all at the same time.” She paused as she soaked her rag in more water. “I suppose I did do some of that. But not without all this in the way. Plus, look how it turned out.” She glanced across the room into the kitchen, where Jonathan was standing, his hands tucked into the pockets of Argyle's jeans, while Argyle chatted away with Eddie, who was leaning against the counter with a very tired looking Steve resting his head across his shoulder.
Robin chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I know it hurts to see someone you like end up with someone else.” She smiled at Nancy, soft and sincere.
Nancy smiled back as she began to wrap Robin's wound. “It’s okay.” She said with a shrug. “It’s better this way.”
Glancing up at her, Robin pulled her lower lip in between her teeth, chewing on it idly as she thought of a response. It tasted like dirt mixed with the raw, metallic flavor of blood from a cut above her eyebrow that had trickled downwards.
“Do you plan on going? To Emerson, I mean. You got in, didn’t you?” She asked, watching as Nancy nodded.
“Yeah, I got in. But I don’t know if I’ll go.” Her shoulders slumped and her head ducked down as she finished dressing the wound. “Doesn’t really seem worth it.”
Mindlessly, Robin reached out a hand, reaching out toward a now standing Nancy. She leaned forward and laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly and beckoning her closer with a reassuring smile.
“You’ve been through all this. You’ve quite literally walked through Hell. If you want to go, it is absolutely worth it. You deserve to follow your dreams, Nance. Don’t let this stop you. Not now. Not when we’re so close.”
Nancy sat down on the couch next to her, their two hands still intertwined. “What if we don’t make it?” She muttered, voice weighed down by fear. “What if I get my hopes up, and then something terrible happens?”
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Robin said, placing a hand on Nancy’s chin and gently tugging it upward so they met eyes. Nancys were wet, glossed over with tears that she was holding back. “Not on my watch.”
There was silence. It seemed to go on for a decade, just Robin looking at Nancy and Nancy looking at Robin and pure, deafening quiet that stilled the room. Robin could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips, and she could feel Nancy’s too, and the back of her hand where they rested softly.
“Nance.” She muttered, unaware of anything else around her. The room seemed to blur as Nancy spoke back.
“Rob.” She said, small smile forming on her face as she slowly moved in, and suddenly her lips were pressed tenderly against Robins own and everything else washed away, and all she could think was Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.
The kiss was nothing and everything at once, soft and warm and faint, but at the same time insistent and full of passion. It didn’t last very long. Almost before Robin could even register what was happening they were gone, Nancy pulling away with cherry coloring dusting her cheeks.
There was a loud exclamation from the kitchen and both the girls startled, turning to see all four boys grinning wildly at them.
“Finally!” Steve slurred, and Robin could make out the redness in his eyes. He was wrapped around Eddie like a koala, a sure sign he was high off his mind.
“Way to go, brochahcas!” Argyle giggled. Robin rolled her eyes and turned back to Nancy, biting her bottom lip as nerves rushed over her.
Nancy simply grinned smugly. “Come here.” She muttered, and then they were kissing again. And the weight of the world seemed to get a little less heavy. Because now? Now Robin had something to fight for.
#sky writes#stranger things#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#ronance#background ship->#steddie#jargyle#ronance fluff#mostly#bisexual nancy wheeler#prompt fill#stranger things fanfiction
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Fun fact about the sapphic senate monster hunter au:
Jargyle are married. Argyle knows this. Jonathan does not. Argyle is low key like a fey lord and Jonathan is Just Some Guy™️. Argyle offered him pizza once “jokingly” asking for his hand in marriage and Jonathan accepted. By fey standards, they are husbands.
#jargyle#sapphic senate monster hunter au#they’re stoner husbands your honor#fey argyle#jonathan byers#they’ll be pretty background in the fic but it’s still important to me#lo rambles
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I see you're in your jargyle feels today and I need to know if you have seen the post that says jargyle are a capybara and a cat because it lives in my head rent-free.
yes, i have, it’s perfect 😍 it’s captures their inner animal 🐈⬛(they don’t have a capybara emoji😭)
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