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#college steddie
strangersatellites · 1 year
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don’t know if i’ve ever posted this here BUT
and hear me out-
modern college au where steddie are randomly assigned roommates.
eddie’s half of the room is covered in posters and concert tickets and chains and his guitar and his Interior Design Signature Handcuffs. clothes all over the floor and desk littered with half written song lyrics.
steve’s is pristinely clean with one (1) framed movie poster.
they can’t stand each other.
eddie blasts his metal music and hotboxes their bathroom. steve ensures they have a revolving door of girls coming to their room and wakes up at 7 o’clock on the dot.
something something enemies to lovers the end
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steddie-as-they-come · 5 months
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Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.
Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.
Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.
The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.
A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.
"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."
The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."
He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.
This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.
They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.
He misses the shitheads.
No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.
Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.
It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.
It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.
Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.
In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.
"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.
"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."
"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."
He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.
She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."
Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"
"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.
Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"
Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.
Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"
"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."
"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."
Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."
"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"
Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.
"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"
"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."
The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.
Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”
Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”
“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.
Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”
“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”
“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.
Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”
Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”
He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.
Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.
Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”
Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”
Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”
The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.
It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.
part two!
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i don’t want a ‘career’ ! i want to write sexy fanfiction for my internet friends <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*
Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.
And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.
And a few of them were also hot.
But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!
He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.
“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”
Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.
The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.
Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.
Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.
Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.
But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.
So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.
Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.
He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.
He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.
“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.
A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.
“What?” He hissed out.
“Do you understand this?”
“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”
Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.
“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.
Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.
“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”
“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.
“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”
Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.
“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”
Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.
“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”
“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”
Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”
“So you aren’t a natural at French?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”
“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.
“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.
Eddie kinda liked that.
“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”
Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.
“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”
Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.
By Steve Harrington.
“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”
Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.
“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”
Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.
Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required
When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.
Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.
Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.
Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉
Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.
And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.
He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.
Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.
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cholvoq · 1 year
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IM BACK AND BACK ON THE STEDDIE GRIND 💪💪 Drawing these two after SO so long is legitimately so therapeutic—
I wanted to draw them in outfits based on this “create an outfit” trend going around Twitter! I had so much fun dressing them up LMAO
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momotonescreaming · 4 months
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Cooking Youtuber Steve; who has series where he makes good family friendly meals, dishes for picky eaters, tips for everyday cooking. As well as series where he tries to make historical dishes, food and drinks from games and TV.
DnD Youtuber Eddie; who has a long actual play series, videos about his characters and the world he's built. Videos about tips for your role-playing, getting immersed. A series where he tries other TTRPG's and board games.
Dustin persuades Steve to make videos about medieval inspired, DnD friendly meals. And because it does actually seem like a fun challenge, he does it. Dustin looks horrifically smug about it when the videos are a hit, the bastard. (Steve will make him eat something gross as payback. Its fine. Gotta keep him humble.)
And because obviously, Eddie sees the videos. He's always on the search for good DnD shit. But the guy is so fucking hot Eddie doesn't quite know what to do with himself. Except daydream about those eyes, and that hair, and those hands.
So Eddie records himself trying (and only sort of failing) to recreate the food. It comes out sort of ugly but actually nice tasting, so Eddie calls it a win. References the Hot Chef Steve in his video, adds a link to his channel, and tries not to feel his heart beating out of his chest when he sends @'s him with a link to the video. His channel is way bigger than Eddie's, he probably won't see it, Eddie's fine.
Except the Hot Chef does see it, and Eddie sort of loses his mind when he gets a comment or a message from him, thanking Eddie for giving his recipe a go, and giving him credit for the recipe. Eddie's not fine at all, this guy is way out of his league, and Eddie can feel the crush bubbling up under his ribcage, and Oh Fuck he's messaging Eddie.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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haikyuul-kid · 5 months
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for all my fellow struggling college students
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steviesbicrisis · 2 years
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Okay but what about a modern college AU where, after being considered a loser and the freak of Hawkins high, Eddie becomes one of the most popular guys on campus? And what if Steve doesn’t really fit in college and he’s just an ordinary student like many others, mostly unnoticed?
Maybe Eddie likes the attention but also gets tired after a few weeks, and when he sees former King Steve Harrington walking around the campus he has to ask him “man, how did you do it in high school?”
And Steve, having figuring out his shit ages ago, simply replies “buy me dinner first and I’ll tell you all of my secrets” with a wink.
(Students walking by give curious glances to a red-in-the-face Eddie Munson and wonder who’s the guy giggling next to him).
EDIT: I wrote a little more about them here, if you wanna check it out!
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fuctacles · 2 months
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sports au!!!!!
The booth was stuffy and smelled like it’s been forgotten for a decade. But the equipment was new and the glass pane was cleaned up, giving Eddie a clear view of the court.
“Is this a good moment to say I don’t know the rules?”
The coach, and his PE professor, looks one step away from murder.
“Just remember our team is wearing green.”
“Yes sir!”
The man squints at him with clear distrust so Eddie gives him his widest, purest smile.
“Good thing nobody’s listening to the campus radio.”
The joke’s on him; Eddie has garnered a lot of listeners over the past months. Listeners that he might lose after hosting a live sports event. 
“Don’t be too weird. I might send you someone to help with the rules so you don’t completely ruin it.” He pats Eddie on the shoulder, his palm so heavy it feels like he’s trying to pin him into the chair, before disappearing behind the door in the back. Seconds later he’s visible walking down the steps to his team.
Eddie looks at his watch. It’s going to be the longest four hours in his academic history. 
He turns to the concsole, frowns at the unfamiliar dials and switches and focuses on the ones he knows. Tunes everything to his best ability, takes a breath, and clears his throat before starting the broadcast.
“Hello, students of Indiana University! I know it’s a Friday night and you were hoping for some nice tunes to party to, but prepare your pillows for a nap instead because you’ll be listening to a football match. No, wait, basketball. I’m pretty sure. 
Anyway, dunno why you’d listen to a match instead of going to see it, but ya boy needs to pass PE this term so here we are. 
And here comes our team! The green ones. It’s greens against blues tonight, folks.”
“Tigers versus Roaches, actually.”
Eddie turns around and sees a tall boy enter his studio.
“First of all, who the fuck names their team Roaches. Second, we have an intruder in the studio.”
The boy extends his hand unfazed.
“I’m Lucas, your interpreter. Since I’m benching for the first half anyway.”
“Booo, I was just going to make up rules as I go. Now you’re gonna make it boring.”
But he shakes his hand anyway and lets Lucas sit on the chair next to him.
“Careful, I’m a dedicated listener. My friends too, you’d probably lose your whole audience.” He smirks. Eddie scoffs.
“I’ll let you know, tiger cub, that many people listen to Munson’s Midnight Metal Madness.”
“I meant the DnD show.”
Eddie looks at the boy, his neat haircut and team jersey.
“Really?”
“Yes, and I’d love to talk more about it later, but now let’s introduce my teammates.”
Eddie hands him the microphone to spit out names he’s never heard before and whatever their bearers' positions were. He hopes the coach doesn’t mind it. All Eddie could do was like, comment on their appearance. Which…
“Where did you get that one from? America’s poster boy catalog?”
He watches Lucas’s face twitch with the effort not to laugh.
“That’s Jason Carver. He’s vice-captain now and will take over the team once Steve graduates later this year.”
“Which one’s that?”
“He usually comes out last.”
Eddie asks about the important stuff - the team's average height and where Andy got his haircut. He looks over the group of young men appraisingly.
“You know what, if I knew y’all play in these funky white socks and guns out I might have gotten into sports commentary earlier.”
Lucas chuckles, but Eddie's on a roll. 
“Especially with such a great co-host, Lucas Sinclair! He’s not on the court yet but he’s being an invaluable source of lore in the studio. Don’t think I’d forget about you, man.” He nudges the younger student. “What’s your specialty on the team?”
“Well…” Lucas scratches his cheek sheepishly. “I’m probably the fastest and my throws are pretty good,” he admits. “Oh, that’s Steve!”
Eddie looks to the right, where a dude with Harrington on his jersey walks in, smiling wide to friends and families watching. 
“Damn, that’s some magnificent hair,” Eddie whistles.
“Yeah, that’s kinda what he’s known for. This hairdo lasts through the whole game, dunno how he does it.”
“He’s gotta give me some tips, because I look like a wet rat by the end of the day. And I don’t even do sports.”
“I’m pretty sure you look like a wet rat no matter the time of day.”
The jab was true but even if it wasn’t, Eddie had a more important thing to focus on right now. 
“Does your captain have a tattoo?” he asks, squinting through the window. He was pretty sure it was ink that was peeking from the bottom of Steve Harrington’s shorts, but it was so out of place on a college athlete, he needed a triple take and the ‘ask the audience’ lifeline to make sure.
“Yep. The coach says it makes him look like a criminal,” he snorts, showing what he thinks about it. “Steve said he regrets not getting it somewhere more visible so more people could see tattoos are not for criminals and rockstars only.”
“Your captain is a smart guy,” Eddie grins, almost sighing into it, to his utter horror. Just a glimpse of a hot guy from afar, a peek of a tattoo, and hearing of his liberal views was apparently enough to make his heart beat faster.
“The best I ever knew,” Lucas admits and it sounds like a Story, capital “s” and all. His next words confirm that. “Our friend group is planning matching tattoos and we are still talking him out of getting it above the neckline.”
Eddie barks out a laugh. 
“Sounds like a savage. I gotta meet your captain sometime soon.”
It’s at this point they notice the coach gesturing at them angrily and they get back to commenting on the game that’s about to start.
“Okay, so explain to me which laundry basket is ours…”
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“Okay okay okay. So number four is a tank, yeah? He blocks the other players. Six is a rogue, who slips between the cracks. And number one, your captain, is a warrior who goes for the attack.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s like LARPing for normies,” Eddie realizes in awe and Lucas laughs so unexpectedly he starts to cough. 
“Sinclair! You’re in!”
They both jump at the sudden appearance of the coach. Lucas springs up from his seat.
“Yes sir!”
“It was a pleasure to host with you.” Eddie smiles at his new friend.
“You too. Catch you after the game?”
“Sure.” He smiles brightly, his head already swimming with ideas of how to fuck over Lucas’ future DnD character. Because playing together was inevitable, the dice were thrown, and the plot was in motion. 
Lucas passes by the coach who now turns his attention to Eddie.
“You’re doing good, don’t ruin it.” He looks in pain admitting that. “I might send someone else to help you out.”
“Thanks, coach.” Though Eddie doubts he’d be vibing so well with anyone else on the team.
Just five minutes later though, he’s proven wrong.
“Heard you’ve been curious about my tattoo?”
Eddie's so startled he knocks the microphone down and yanks out the cord in his haste to turn around. 
“Captain!” he yells like a dumbass, faced with the hair and boyishness of no one else but Steve Harrington. 
“Radio-man!” Steve yells back with a wide and teasing smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, man, you have no idea.” He steps closer. “My kids love your show.”
“Your kids?”
“My, uh, younger friends. I used to babysit them and it kinda stuck,” he admits with an awkward smile. Steve is nothing like the typical jock he’s come to expect and he’s everything Lucas advertised.
“That’s adorable, man.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts. He honest to god pouts.
“Not laughing!” Eddie raises his hands placatingly. “There’s nothing bad with a family-tight friend group.”
“Damn straight.” Steve smiles and sits on the chair vacated by Lucas. He eyes the microphone lying prone on the desk. “Technical difficulties?”
Eddie rushes to fix his equipment.
“You could say so,” he murmurs, trying to busy himself with the tangled cord. But a hand stops him before he can plug it in.
“We’re off the air now, right?”
Eddie looks over the control lights on the console.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
“What?”
When Eddie woke up today, he knew his day would be weird. No day spent in a sports facility could be normal or pleasant. It was confirmed when he made a new friend with a member of the team, who was a listener of his DnD podcast. But the team captain hitting on him? That’s not your regular weird, that’s a bad strain of weed kind of weird.
“Lucas sent me over claiming a guy my type might be hiding here.”
It takes everything from Eddie not to take a look around. Logically, he knows there’s no one else in the booth. But his brain refuses to connect the dots. He licks his lips and cringes at the wet noise his mouth makes.
“What’s your type?”
Steve tilts his head and hums like he’s in thought.
“Weird, smartass nerd, as it turns out. With big brown eyes and great hair.”
“Uh, thank you?”
Steve only smiles at him, soft before it turns teasing.
“Wanna see my tattoo up close?” he offers. 
“Gosh, yes,” he admits with zero shame, eyes flitting down to the man’s legs. Was he curious about what type of tattoo a gorgeous sport-type guy would get? Yes. Did he want to ogle some hairy thighs? Also yes. It’s a two-in-one kind of deal.
The coach waves at them angrily to get back on the air, but Steve promises to tell him everything about S.S. Robin after the game. And no, Robin is just his best friend, Eddie doesn’t need to worry about her.
“In fact, wanna be my date to the after-party later? The kids will freak out when they meet you.”
How could Eddie say no to his fans' worship?
And to Steve’s hopeful eyes and the slight squeeze he gave his hand.
“Mingling with jocks in my free time?” Eddie turns his palm up to squeeze back. “Sure, let’s make this day even weirder.”
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I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.
Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.
He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff
Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.
Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.
He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.
"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."
Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.
"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.
Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."
"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"
Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."
Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.
Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.
It was almost as if...
"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"
There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.
"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."
She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.
It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.
"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."
Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.
"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"
He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.
"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."
"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.
Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.
"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"
All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.
And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.
"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"
Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.
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steddie-as-they-come · 5 months
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sequel to my roommate steddie au!! here's the first part! tags have changed, it's now more mature with some fade to black sex
Steve’s so warm. It’s not fair.
Eddie must have half his wardrobe on, tucked under all the blankets on his bed, and Steve is just sitting over there, in a T-shirt and thin sweatpants, like the jackass he is.
"You look cold." Steve says, shifting a bit.
Eddie glares at him. "No shit, Sherlock," he bites out, trying to reign in his temper. All things considered, Steve's a pretty great roommate, sharing his food and his children with Eddie. It's not his fault the college decides to let their students freeze to death.
Steve, to his credit, just laughs at him. "Okay, fine. I was gonna offer for you to come hang out over here, since you're over the vent and I'm not, but if you're gonna be like that-"
Eddie practically teleports out of bed. "No! No, please, Steve, did I ever mention how great your hair looks today and how kind you are to me-"
Steve laughs again, moving out of the way and patting the bed next to him. Eddie doesn't hesitate to scurry up and tuck himself into a little cocoon of his own blankets, trying not to bump Steve's arm as he focuses on his homework. He doesn't completely succeed, and his hand brushes against Steve's bare arm.
"What the fuck?" he says loudly. "Why are you the temperature of a campfire?"
Steve shrugs. "I've always run hot." he says. "It's great during winter movie nights because everyone piles on top of me, but then I get banished during summer movie nights, which is no fun."
Eddie's already sprawled over his shoulder, sighing happily, like some kind of lizard on a sunlit rock. If August Eddie could see him now, he'd try to smack the shit outta him for falling for a straight guy. One who was his roommate, no less.
But it's hard not to when Steve is kind, and accepting, and a little bit stupid, and hot as hell. It isn't like he just tolerates Eddie's physical affection either, he seems to welcome it. Steve even started initiating it, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulders, grabbing his arm to haul him out of particularly big crowds, and the hugs. Steve loves hugs.
There's a darkness to Steve too, the way he moves, the way he's always checking over his shoulder, flinching at flickering lights, always ready for a fight.
It makes Eddie wonder if Steve is like him.
Eddie wiggles a bit, adjusting his chin to prop on Steve's shoulder. "Whatcha workin' on?" he asks, just to be nosy.
Steve rolls his eyes, leaning away. "None of your business." he teases.
Eddie misses the warmth as soon as Steve's gone. "Nooooo," he whines. "Come back. I won't look!"
Steve stays leaned away, raising his eyebrows. "You're so weird." he says. It's not in a mean way, more that he's bewildered that one person can be this strange. Eddie takes this as a compliment.
He pretends to freeze to death, jerking and flinching. "It's...so cold." he mutters. "I see...the light... All because my roommate...let me freeze to death..."
Finally, Steve's blissful warmth comes back, and Steve sighs, tapping his pen against his paper. Eddie tries to peek again, and recognizes familiar words.
"Is that a character sheet?" he yells, and Steve frowns at him.
"You said you wouldn't look!"
Eddie waves him off, grabbing for the sheet. "Steve, this is D&D. It's automatically my business when it's D&D."
Steve finally hands it over. "Fine. Yes, it's a character sheet. Dustin's birthday is next Monday, and I was gonna ask you if I could join your game as a present to him."
Eddie nods, inspecting the sheet. Dustin's been begging for Steve to join basically since they started their little arrangement, where Eddie DM's for them in exchange for no more open hostility in the dorms. It may have worked a little too well, given Eddie's budding crush, but c'est la vie.
Eddie hands it back. "You are supposed to give the DM the character sheet a couple days in advance so they have time to work you into the plot."
Steve winces. "Really? Shit, I didn't know that."
"It's fine, I got some ideas, just from looking it over. You can borrow a spare set of dice and one of my miniatures too."
"Oh good, I had no idea if I needed any of that stuff."
"Do you want me to do a little crash course for you?" Eddie asks, preparing to brave the cold to grab his little homemade handbook.
Steve gives him a deadpan look. "Are you kidding me? Dustin is gonna love being better than me at this. I might as well go in with a regular six-sided die and pretend I thought that's the one I needed."
Eddie laughs. "Fair enough." The cold touches his neck and he burrows back into his blankets. "This fucking sucks, by the way. The cold."
"You're a big baby, man. It's fine."
"Ah, yes. Forgot I live with a walking, talking furnace." Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering, "This is worse than the time I was left outside in the cold."
"Wait, what?" Steve turns to him, eyes flinty like steel. "You were...what?"
"Oh. Um." Eddie's not sure how much to reveal, but he figures it had to come out eventually. "My dad left me out in the cold when I was thirteen. I think he thought it'd fix me. I just got really sick, though." He laughs humorlessly.
"You said...fix you?" Steve says, and Eddie's heart drops. He backs away from Steve before starting to talk, trying to find something to defend himself with if Steve gets mad.
"Yeah." Eddie says. "He saw me...kissing a boy."
Steve's eyes widen, and then he scoots closer. Eddie's breath hitches.
"Me too." Steve whispers.
Now it's Eddie's turn to be shocked. Steve continues. "Not...not left outside in the cold. They'd need to be home long enough for that. But...bisexual. I like girls and guys."
There's a tense, charged silence in the room. Eddie draws up all his courage. "I like you, Steve."
Steve stares at Eddie’s lips. “Can I-” he whispers breathlessly.
Eddie, seemingly just as entranced, nods, and Steve leans forward, pressing his lips against Eddie. Almost unconsciously, Eddie tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Steve hums happily. 
Eddie’s tongue swipes at the sealed lines of Steve’s lips. Steve freezes, then slowly, tentatively, opens his mouth. 
Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. Eddie practically pulls Steve down towards him, hands greedily exploring every inch of Steve he could reach. Steve gladly returns the favor, sneaking his hands between Eddie’s back and the mattress so he can feel the muscles lining Eddie’s spine flex and move as Eddie kisses him stupid. 
Eddie pulls back, breaking the kiss. Steve whines, actually whines, and dives back in, but Eddie stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. 
He kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Steve chases it, leaning subtly towards Eddie, but Eddie just keeps moving, kissing a trail from his mouth to his chin, to the soft skin where Steve's jawline blends into his neck. Steve keeps moving, running his hands up and down Eddie’s back just for something to do. 
Eddie reaches the small curve where his shoulder meets his neck, and Steve feels a small scrape of teeth against his skin. He whimpers. 
“Oh?” Eddie says, the first thing he’s said since Steve leaned in. His voice is raspy, and Steve privately thinks it's the hottest fucking thing in the world. “There?” 
He kisses there again, but this time there's no teeth, and Steve stays quiet, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out. 
“Or…did you like it when I did this?” 
Eddie leans forward and nips at Steve’s collar, and Steve keens. “Eddieee…” he says, dragging the vowels out too long, leaving that name hanging in the air.
Eddie tilts his head back up and captures Steve’s lips in another kiss, tongue sliding into Steve’s mouth smoothly. He kisses for a few seconds, then readjusts and gently nips at Steve’s lower lip. 
“Please, please Eddie,” Steve begs breathlessly, not even sure what he's pleading for. Eddie seems to get it though, and slides his hands under his shirt to cup Steve’s waist.
Steve laces his hands through Eddie's hair and pulls, and Eddie lets out a moan, pushing Steve off of him and rolling so he's on top, enjoying the feeling of Steve under him on the mattress.
"I've never been so glad for the cold," he whispers against Steve's lips, and kisses him again.
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atimeofyourlife · 8 months
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Old face, new place
Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up: High school or College AU
rated: t | cw: none | tags: disabled Steve Harrington, pre-Steddie | wc:1000
Steve and Eddie meet again in college. The Upside Down still happened, but Eddie was never involved.
Honestly, Steve never thought he would go to college. Between his average grades, lack of ambition, and just not knowing what he wanted to do, it just didn’t seem to be on the cards for him. But it all changed after the Upside Down turned his life upside down.
After it was all over, and he’d been disowned by his parents, he and Robin moved to Chicago together. It was there she encouraged him to start taking classes at the same community college as her, to try and get a degree.
And that was how he got here, facing down the door of an art room, trying to build up the courage to go in. He’d signed up to be a nude model for a figure drawing class. At $20 a session, it would really help stretch his and Robin’s lousy paychecks that bit further. As he opened the door, he could hear the teacher reminding the class to be mindful about the model's bodies. That made him feel a little more uneasy, because it reminded him that it was the first time anyone other than doctors or Robin had seen him uncovered since everything with Vecna, and then losing his leg in the final showdown. He stripped down in the cubicle at the side of the room, changing into just a bathrobe.
As he came into the main space, he could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on his prosthetic. He reached the stool set up for him, and slipped off the robe. A collective gasp rang through the room, and he knew it was because of the scarring from the demo-bat attacks. 
He got into a pose, and tried to forget where he was. Whenever he took a minute to move because of getting too stiff, he glanced over the class, seeing if there was anyone he recognized. There was one guy who felt vaguely familiar, who would not stop staring at his scars, his gaze more intense than anyone else’s.
Eddie had always known that college wasn’t in the cards for him. Hell, it took him three attempts to graduate high school. And he was only successful the last time because everyone in the class of ‘86 was allowed to graduate without sitting their finals because of the freak earthquake, and the murders, that happened during spring break that year. Wayne had all but forced him into volunteering in the relief efforts, but as soon as he had his diploma in hand, he was hightailing it out of town, looking for something better.
He ended up in Chicago, working evenings in a bar, and getting an apprenticeship to become a tattoo artist. He was a few months into the apprenticeship when his mentor recommended that he take a couple of semesters of art classes at the local community college to help him with technique and to refine his style. He tried to deny it on grounds of cost, but it was covered under the apprenticeship program.
Which is how he found himself a few months in, sitting in a figure drawing class. He zoned out a little as the teacher brought up the rules that had been laid out on the first day of the figure drawing unit, about making the models comfortable and not saying anything about their bodies. That hadn’t happened before any of the other models came in, so it did make Eddie wonder. Maybe it would be a guy with a really interesting dick.
Instead, it was Steve Harrington, of all people, that limped into the room. Eddie couldn’t help but watch as he went into the corner blocked off for the models to change in. What had brought King Steve to be a model for an art class? Looking for more validation on how pretty he was? Trying to pick up girls?
He brought himself out of his thoughts as Steve came out in a robe and. A prosthetic leg. That explained the limp, but brought so many more questions about what had happened. Because Eddie clearly remembered Steve in those tiny gym shorts and he definitely wasn’t missing a leg at that point. 
Then Steve dropped the robe. Eddie, alongside the rest of the class, gasped. And not for the reason he’d thought he would be gasping when seeing Steve Harrington naked. He had horrific scarring on his chest and sides. Just opening even more questions to what the hell had happened to him.
He did his best to complete the assigned drawing, but his eyes kept getting drawn to Steve’s scars. The curiosity kept building as the time went on, and he was unsure if he’d be able to keep it in. 
He packed up slowly at the end, wanting to try and catch Steve. They’d never been friends, but he needed to know if he was okay. He waited until they were both out of the room, before he called after him. “Hey, Harrington.”
Steve turned around, and looked at Eddie for a moment before recognition flashed in his eyes. “Munson.”
“Are- are you okay?” He asked, feeling a bit lost, unsure if what he wanted to ask was inappropriate.
“You mean my-” Steve rested his hand on his side where the worst of the scarring was. “Animal attack during the earthquake. It’s fine now.”
“And your-” Eddie’s gaze dropped to Steve’s legs.
“An accident a few months later.”
“Damn. You’ve really been through it, Harrington.”
Steve gave a bitter laugh that Eddie couldn’t quite read. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Maybe you could tell me some of it? Over coffee if you’re free?” Eddie suggested.
Steve looked at his watch. “I’ve got class in like twenty minutes. But I’ll be free after eleven tomorrow?”
Eddie ran through his scheduling in his mind, he was in the shop in the morning. “I’m working in the morning, but I’ll be off about two. We could do a late lunch or something?”
“It’s a date.” Steve agreed.
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thisapplepielife · 5 months
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Sleeping with Spiders
Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss
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"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed. 
There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway. 
“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy. 
Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.
Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room. 
"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”
"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”
“Steve,” Steve offers.
“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”
They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.
Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.
Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.
They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend. 
“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”
Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?” 
“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine." 
And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.
Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open. 
Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with. 
"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."
Steve nods, "That's cool."
"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds. 
Steve points to himself, "Business." 
"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous." 
Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."
That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake. 
"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday. 
"I'm coming up!" Eddie says. 
"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back. 
"It's my bed!" 
"I think not!" 
"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!" 
This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.
But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.
 
Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.
Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.
Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses. 
“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.
Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”
Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here. 
What else is new? 
Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely. 
Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face. 
"This okay?" Steve asks. 
Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this. 
Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care. 
He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now. 
Eddie rolls on top of him. 
Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?" 
Eddie cackles, "No." 
Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"
"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning. 
Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen. 
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strangersteddierthings · 10 months
Text
The Response
Part Two of The Interview [Part One] [Ao3]
With no exact time given by Robin, Eddie's left to kill time. He drags himself from the YouTube spiral to try and track down Steve on social media. After two hours, he concludes that either Steve has his (and official Corroded Coffin's) socials blocked, or Steve just doesn't have any. He's a bit baffled that people can even find Steve to send hate mail to him.
He shoots a text to Gareth. Can you find Steve on any socials?
He gets an instant reply.
DO NOT CONTACT!!!
WAIT FOR RESPONSE
DONOT MAKE THISS WORSE MUNSON
Eddie frowns down at his phone but doesn't argue. He probably would make it worse. He sends back 'k' and looks back to the laptop. Watches it auto-refresh but Robin's feed hasn't changed.
God, what will Steve have to say?
It's mostly true, that Eddie hasn't thought about Steve in years. That's been deliberate. Eddie was so furious back then. Robin wasn't wrong about him venting his feelings into a song, but how was he supposed to know Hey Steve would be the song the catch the ear of the people? And yeah, the lyrics are very unflattering.
A lot of their first songs were filled with rage. The whole first album is just their collective high school experiences. Songs about growing up in Hawkins and how shit that was for them, a song about Eddie's complicated feelings towards his dad, songs about dungeons and dragons disguised as fantasy ballads, things like that. And, of course, Hey Steve.
He can admit that years ago he reevaluated the lyrics and found it to be more harsh than was warranted. But he figured there was no point worrying about that. People exaggerate in songs all the time. The song is out, people still plead for it to be played during encore performances. Eddie hadn't thought it was hurting anyone to play it.
Hey Steve had taken Eddie less than two days to write. He did almost nothing for those two days except write. Fuck. He was still just a dumb kid when he wrote it, barely graduated high school. And the reason for writing it...
Eddie had know Steve wasn't out to his parents when he'd asked Steve to essentially runaway with him. Steve had worried about things like money, and living situations, and getting food. It had all sounded like excuses to Eddie back then. Like Steve was picking the safety of Hawkins and his parents' house over going out into the world to be with Eddie freely.
They'd fought about it. The worst fight they'd ever had. Yet, here Eddie is, a decade later and unable to recall anything that was actually said. Just a summary of that conversation exists in his mind, now. Steve wanting to wait. To save more money now that his hours at the grocery store would be changing from part time to full with him no longer being in school and able to work the morning shifts. Wait to get his car fully transferred to his name from his parents.
All things that adult Eddie can now see as reasonable. Jesus Fucking Christ. He remembers he'd given Steve some sort of ultimatum. He was leaving on the last Grey Hound from Hawkins to Indy. Steve could meet him at the bus stop or stay, but Eddie was going, with or without him.
Steve had shouted back. He knows they just got louder and nastier until Steve finally told him that he would be going without him, then, because they were over. Even as angry as Eddie had been, he'd held out hope. But that last bus left Hawkins with Eddie on it and no sign of Steve in sight.
So Eddie did what he did best. Channeled that hurt into anger and wrote a song. Never in a million years did he think that, in the very first bar they played at in Indy, they'd meet a man who wanted to take a chance with them and get them a demo. All they needed to do was get from Indy to LA. Eddie had a van and the motivation. The next year of his life was too busy for him to even think, much less worry about Steve and his breakup.
Well, that was a lie. He thought about it constantly and shoved the thoughts aside as quickly as they came. Easier to do when he had no way to check up on Steve. He left Hawkins with no laptop and a pay-per-text flip phone he'd bought at a gas station. Wayne tried his best to provide for Eddie, and that meant they'd had one cell phone between the two, and Eddie had insisted that Wayne keep it.
By the time he got a laptop and internet, Steve had blocked him on Facebook and Twitter. That was the conclusion Eddie had come to when he finally worked up the nerve to swallow his pride and apologize and couldn't find Steve on either platform. Another thing that had filled Eddie with anger and hurt. Steve had broken up with him and then made sure Eddie couldn't reach back out.
Now he wonders, did Steve block him, or did Steve delete his socials to stop the hate mail?
Eddie feels nauseous.
Fuck!
What's worse is that, before the fight, Eddie had been so sure he was in love with Steve. But how can he say that with how quickly he dropped him? With how he's acted ever since? He could justify it to himself when he was still freshly broken up with and hurting but that faded away as fame took over.
Hard to be sad about not having a boyfriend when there were plenty of people lining up to be with him.
He pulls himself from his head to look at the laptop. A new tweet shows on Robin's screen and he scrambled to turn off the auto-refresher.
It's a short tweet, and Eddie sees she's changed her name as well.
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Clicking the link takes him to a YouTube video.
It starts with the camera slightly jiggling, presumably from someone hitting record. It's been set up in a recording studio. A stool in front of a mic that's suspended from the ceiling is the only thing in the frame.
"Alright, dingus, last chance to change your mind about this," Robin's voice is picked up from off screen.
"You can't talk me out of this," says a male voice, and without any thought about it, Eddie's hand flings out and slaps the space bar, pausing the video. His heart is pounding, and he has to take a few deep breaths. That was Steve's voice. Of course, it was Steve's voice, it's his statement video, but hearing it again. Hearing it spoken softly but determined.
Swallowing feels difficult. Eddie's last memory of Steve's voice was screaming. This is... this is the Steve he never thought he'd hear again, and hasn't realized how much he desperately wanted to. With shaking hands, he presses play again.
Steve steps into frame, takes a seat on the stool. He looks in the direction of the camera, and Eddie has to pause again, to take him in. His hair is longer than it was in high school, the ends of it touching his shoulders. He's got it pulled up in a half updo, keeping the hair out of his face. His face is familiar and yet so different. He certainly looks older but not in a bad way. The biggest difference is his nose; it's not as straight as it once was, like it's been broken and healed wrong. His strong, square face is as handsome as it ever was, perhaps more so now. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the two moles on his cheek; his eyes have always been drawn there. It was his favorite place to kiss Steve.
He's wearing light wash jeans and a deep blue Henley. And fuck if it doesn't make him look good.
Eddie unpauses again, and waits to hear the retribution he deserves.
"This good, Robin?"
"Yeah, you're perfectly in frame."
"Good. Uhh, hi. I'm Steve. Robin told me that there was a lot of fuss regarding a certain Corroded Coffin song, and that people wanted to hear from me. Which is wild 'cause like, I'm just some guy and I don't really have much to say-" Steve is saying, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Steve!" Robin interrupts him, "I just had to help you move because someone threw a brick through your window! What do-"
"Okay! I get it! But that's not Corroded Coffin's fault. They do that whole anti-bullying thing! It's not like they don't address harassment and bullying. I-" Steve cuts off, seeming to remember he's on camera. His face turns pink. "We can argue this later. Uhh, anyway. There is something I want to say to Eddie Munson, so I hope he's watching."
He makes a 'give it to me' gesture and Robin enters frame, handing him an acoustic guitar. "I thought I'd answer using the one thing Eddie understands best. Music. So, uh, I wrote this song with Robin's help. Lyrics are mine but the melody is Robin. The song doesn't have a title but, uh, okay. Here it goes."
And then, Steve starts to sing, looking down at the guitar for correct finger placement more than singing into the mic but it picks him up well regardless.
"Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me? Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it-" Eddie is sitting down, and still he feels the floor fall out from under him.
"-Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah."
Eddie doesn't hear the rest of the song because of the blood pounding in his ears. This can't be- it doesn't mean- after all this time? After everything that's happened, everything Eddie let happen, unintentionally or not.
His phone buzzes against his leg. He ignores it in favor of restarting the video and listening to the video from the start. He listens to the whole song and it ends without anything else. Once Steve's strummed the last chord, he just stands up, walks to the camera and the video ends.
He restarts the video again, and again, and again. Hears Steve sing How could you think I'd scare so easily and I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute and though I know my heart would break I'd tell them put me back in it.
It's through the tenth, or eleventh, playback that his phone buzzes again and he fumbles to answer blindly, unable to pull his eyes away from Steve on the screen of his laptop.
"Gare- It's not- what did I do Gare? Everything I thought Steve would have to say never came close to what he just sang. I can't- I don't know what to do," Eddie sobs into the phone.
There's a pause of silence before what is very much not Gareth's voice says, "Well, dammit Munson. I was calling to rip you a new one but you're already crying."
It takes Eddie a moment to place the voice, "Robin?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Robin says. "I think Steve's let you off easily, but I also know I kick a hornet's nest with my interview so I think we should work on getting this cleared up, both publicly and privately."
"How did you get my num-"
"Gareth. Keep up, Munson. I'd like us to be able to call off each other's fans. Your PR team and whoever you employee to do that anti-bullying campaign have done a pretty good job so far in telling people to back off, politely. Helps that Jeff has been on top of this from the beginning. Honestly, I think the best decision you've ever made in your life was making Jeff the front man of your band and not yourself. He's much more pleasant to talk to, and so good with people."
"Robin!" Eddie has to shout because Robin keeps saying words and they don't make sense. "What?"
He hears a sign from the other end of the phone. "You are annoying. You know that, Munson? I'll work with Gareth to get this done. I think we should be seen together, publicly. Maybe getting a coffee. So everyone knows we've made up, or whatever it is Gareth and I decide is happening. We should also meet up privately. There's a lot to talk about."
"I'm so confused."
"Nothing new. Now, when are you free to get on a plane to Pendleton, Oregon?"
"Pendleton?"
"Munson!" Robin snaps, "we just established that you live in a perpetual state of confusion. Instead of questioning me, how about you answer my questions. Now, when are you free?"
"Anytime."
"Smart answer. Get your ass to Pendleton by the morning of the twenty-third. I'll work with Gareth for all the other concerns. He's easier to deal with."
"Can I ask one follow up question at least!?"
"You just did but I'll allow one more before I hang up."
"Why Pendleton?"
"It's the nearest airport to our destination. I am not having a private conversation with you in California. I don't want to be caught speaking to you until Gareth and I have a chance to work out the details."
And then Robin hangs up.
Eddie leans forward and restarts the video on his laptop before looking up plane tickets. Fixing things with Robin might be the first step in ever getting try and, he doesn't know, apologize to Steve? Maybe even have a conversation one day.
He doesn't deserve that chance, he thinks, but he's a bad enough person to want it anyway.
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estrellami-1 · 4 months
Text
Is this something or nothing?
The rules of public travel are simple: do your best to stay in your own space, stay aware of your surroundings, and don’t stare at anyone.
Most people adopt the thousand-yard stare, simply staring through the floor or the window until their stop, where they pop up out of their seat (or straighten up, if holding onto a bar), make their way to the door, and wait to exit.
Steve knows the rules of public travel. He’s been bussed to and from Cincinnati too many times to count: the dubious perks of having rich parents who send you off for school.
He knows to stay in his own space. He knows to keep his eyes to himself.
But he hadn’t slept well the night before. He hadn’t slept well for the previous week, actually, and is going off of roughly twenty combined hours of sleep in the past six days.
None of which happened last night.
He hadn’t realized he was tired enough to fall asleep standing up. Hadn’t realized that was something people could actually do, until the bus was suddenly braking and he was flying through the air, no idea what was happening until he was caught like a goddamn maiden in a story, swooning on a random guy’s arm.
He blinks.
Random Guy blinks, then grins. “Well, hey, big boy,” he starts. “Looks like you just fell for me.”
Steve’s brain isn’t currently working, so all he gets out is a string of cut-off curses as he tries to get his feet under him. “Sorry,” he finally says, which feels really fucking inadequate.
Random Guy just shrugs and grins. “Accidents happen.” He looks up, pats Steve on the shoulder, and says, “Well, you’ve got great timing. This is my stop. See you ‘round, big boy!”
Big boy, Steve mouths as Random Guy turns around, feeling himself flush. Goddammit.
And it wouldn’t have been terrible if that was all he’d seen of Random Guy.
But now that he’s been made aware of his presence, Steve sees him everywhere.
Even worse? He sees Steve, and usually winks, which only serves to make Steve blush.
And even worse than that? Random Guy is hot.
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