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hotluncheddie · 1 year

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Seasons change, but people don't.

or three times steve asks eddie to stay, plus one time he finally does.

(my entry for @thefreakandthehair 's winter fic challenge! my prompt was "lets just stay here, watch the snow a little longer." and it turned into a lot of Eddie Munson being silly and spans all the seasons. 6.2k)

Ao3

✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Spring 1985

Eddie feels like his skin is too small. His scalp is prickling and he’s had the worst fucking day, okay? His stupid math and science teachers are in kahoots, he knows it. He’s shit in both their classes and they hate him and have it out for him and there's nothing he can do now. His grades are too low, he cant make it up and they don’t like him so there's no way out. Not charming anyone, no sob story that could save his sorry ass now. He’s not graduating. Again. He has to repeat senior year. Again.

And the added layer to his shit cake of a day? King Steve wants to buy from him. Today, right now. Oh ho ho is he gonna get overcharged sooo bad. Seeing as eddie has to postpone his wallowing to wait at his stupid little bench in the stupid woods behind the stupid school.

The spring air is nice at least, a little breeze blowing through the trees and the bench is warm from the sun. He's only been waiting for about 5 minutes before the telltale rustles and snaps of someone coming towards his spot are heard.

Steve the hair Harrington is here. With his long stupid legs and his stupid jacket and eddie is not! In the mood!

‘Hey man’ Steve slumps down onto the bench across from Eddie with a sigh and, huh. He looks really fucking tired. Like, if Eddie were his friend he would be seriously concerned.

Steve is not Eddie's friend.

‘Hey yourself. 30 bucks. Cool?’ Eddie gets the baggie out of his little black lunchbox and holds it out. Steve just kind of looks at it. ‘What?’ Eddie snaps. He doesn’t have time for this.

Steve flinches at his tone and looks at Eddie with his big puppy eyes (yes! Eddie knows Steve Harrington is a pretty boy jock and yes! Eddie has had his little gay boy fantasies about Steve Harrington and no! Eddie is not proud of it!) and ohhh my god Eddie does not have time for this!!

‘Sorry sorry, yeah man. Here.’ Steve takes out the cash and hands it over, but still doesn’t take the bag. He shuffles around, sticking his hands in his ugly preppy jacket ‘You. You wouldn’t roll for me would you?.. I’ll pay extra.’

Eddie scoffs, god what a day! Now this! ‘Baby never had to roll for himself before? Oh! to be royalty. I don’t have time Harrington, go get one of your lackeys to do it.’ He stands and Eddie knows his voice is icy, that a deal in the woods doesn’t require so much bite but he can’t help it. He needs his shitty fucking day to be over.

Steve's cheeks redden and he picks at the table. Eddie was expecting a rise, that classic king Steve bite back. But he just looks kinda like he’s going to throw up? ‘I can roll. I. I could roll. My um, my hands shake. My hands shake so I can't roll anymore.’ And he looks sad, the puppy dog eyes just timesed themselves by like, 10.

Eddie melts. He knows his heart is too soft and squishy, his dad always loved to tell him so.

‘Hand it over Harrington. And change your face, you’re breaking my heart man.’ Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs and makes a big show of sitting back on the bench, like rolling a couple silly little blunts for silly little Steve Harrington isn’t literally going to take him 5 minutes.

‘Sorry, sorry. Um thanks. Thank you man, really.’ Ugh, he still looks sad and now he looks guilty too! Fuck!

‘You’re fine man, seriously. Okay? I’ve just had a shitty day, rolling your stupid blunts for you isn’t going to make it worse, promise.’ Eddie flashes his teeth, gets out his spare papers and starts rolling. The familiar movements helping him relax a little.

‘Okay well, thanks still. Uh and sorry, sorry your day was shit dude.’ Eddie side eyes Steve and watches him scrub a hand over his face. He really looks like shit, how did Eddie only just notice?

‘It's whatever. I’m simply forsaken to haunt the hallowed Hawkins High hallways for another year. A travesty for everyone involved honestly.’ and Steve just squints at him for a second, before breathing out a ‘shit, man’ which makes Eddie bark out a laugh. Maybe this new king Steve is more entertaining than the last one.

‘You wanna um, like, share? Now?’ And isn’t that a question, smoke up with the hair? Oh if Eddie of yesteryear could see him now.

‘Thanks for the offer your majesty but I have a prior engagement’ Eddie stands again and ignores that Steve looks a little disappointed… Weird fucking day. ‘Enjoy though. hope it helps you sleep dude, you look like you need it.’ Eddie packs up his things, he feels a stress headache starting and he really does just want to go home, play his guitar maybe. Build up the courage to talk to Wayne.

‘Sure, of course. Yeah, yeah. Thanks.’ Steve grimaces, but the corners of his lips rise a little, in a self deprecating way. It looks real, genuine. It suits him, Eddie thinks, being genuine.

‘No really, you kinda look like shit dude.’ Eddie can't help it, if he’s given a little he’ll take a lot. Especially if it’s from pretty boys who don’t look like they’re about to beat the shit out of him.

‘Get the fuck outa here Munson’ Steve rolls his eyes and is smiling like he's trying not to. Eddie’s lizard brain wants to eat him. Eddie’s Eddie brain still wants to go home, but the pit in his stomach feels a little shallower. He starts to walk backwards out of the clearing.

‘Hey, Eddie?’ Steve is looking at the two neat spliffs in his palm. Eddie slows his steps as Steve glances up at him. ‘Just. Uh. There's a lot worse things out there than repeating senior year a couple times, okay dude? A lot worse.’ And there's a fire behind Steve's eyes that Eddie didn’t know was possible. Intense, brave, harrowed.

Eddie is frozen for a second, held by this person in front of him. Someone he thought he knew, because Eddie knows how to read people and Steve Harrington was always so simple. But this Steve Harrington? This is new. Eddie's stomach twists. He needs to go home.

He bows deeply, flourishing his hand and spins on his heel… He might just keep an eye out for Steve Harrington from now on.

Summer 1985

This was definitely not what Eddie had in mind when he said he would keep an eye out for Steve Harrington.

He’s ready to head home for the night, after selling from the back porch of cheerleader Stacy Hofferman’s big ass house. The party was to celebrate the coming school year or something equally asinine. But his pockets are fat with rich kid cash and bummed cigarettes he didn’t need, so theres a fucking spring in his step okay? Sue him.

Steve Harrington is splayed on the front lawn, like a starfish and is humming some, carnival song? Wasted. Maybe a little crossfaded, but he didn’t buy anything from Eddie this time so he hopes the near empty vodka bottle is the only thing coursing through those veins right now. He doesn’t need to add Steve Harrington to his conscience tonight. But Eddie is a curious guy, so he saunters over.

Oh god. Oh no. Steve’s in shorts. Cut off jean shorts. Plus his hair still looks good, even all sprawled out on the grass. Fuck. Eddie hates him. He's still grappling with the memory of seeing Steve in that little sailor outfit at the mall. Now this!

‘You gonna sing me a song Harrington?’ Eddie’s sneakers stop either side of Steve's head and he leans over a little. Watches as Steve's eyes try to focus, squint a little before recognition brings a smile to Steve's face, mischief to his eyes. Huh, okay that's new. Not bad, but definitely new.

‘Daisy bell doesn’t have words Eddie’ Steve fucking giggles at him and okay, yep, yep. Wasted.

‘You got a ride home harrington? Might want to cut the party here, yeah?’ Eddie is a weak weak man and something about his first name coming out of Steve Harrington's mouth lights a little fire in his belly. Ugh. Disgusting.

Steve's face falls a little and his eyes go unfocused again. ‘Nah, can’t be there right now man. M’ good here.’

‘Outside on the grass? You not gonna try getting lucky tonight king Steve?’ Something about Steve being out here alone doesn’t sit right with Eddie. Sure Steve isn’t as surrounded with starry eyed guys and gals after graduating, and maybe a little before then too. But surely he came here with someone who would be pulling him up and away at the end of the night, keeping some sort of an eye out for him. Not that that person would ever be Eddie, but still. It’s, you know, the principle of the thing.

Steve sucks in a breath that puffs his cheeks out, eyes going comically wide before letting the breath out, slow. ‘Nahhhhh dude, haven’t been lucky for a long time.’ and his eyes go unfocused, glassy in the streetlights. ‘Doesn’t feel the same now anyway, not fun like it used to be.’ Suddenly he looks much older, older than Eddie, older than any 19 year old should. Lost in thoughts that draw great shadows onto the planes of his face.

His eyes snap back up to Eddie, the fog clearing a little. ‘Think the scoops ahoy uniform killed my chances off already anyway. Lots of good things to come out of the mall being destroyed, I don’t have to scoop ice cream in shorts for one.’ He laughs, a little hysterical, and Eddie kind of feels like he's intruding, like there's a lot more to what Steve is saying right now and Eddie is not privy to any of it.

Eddie smiles though and shoves his hands in his pockets, pulling out his pack and a lighter, fiddling with them. Steve takes another long pull from the bottle, god that shit smells like paint remover. Eddie can almost see the hangover brewing under Steve's honey skin.

Steve’s looking at him again. Upside down, on some girls' front lawn. And then he sucker punches eddie, out of fucking nowhere. ‘Stay and stargaze with me? Whadayasay Munson?’ his smile is dopey and drunk, he's so drunk. Drunk Steve Harrington just asked him to stargaze. Eddie thinks maybe the rumours about Hawkins being cursed actually might be true. But it's Eddie who’s cursed. Cursed to be confused by pretty jocks who turn out nothing like he ever expected.

‘Fraid not sailor, for I am Cinderella and the clock just struck midnight.’ Eddie amps up the theatrics, he's nervous. Steve Harrington can’t know how on the back foot he feels right now. Confusing, charming fucker. ‘I can also feel the old lady next door itching to call the pigs and I am not about to deal with their hairy eyeballs tonight. No sir, the summer air is too sweet for that.’ Eddie steps away from Steve, angling his back towards the street. He feels goosebumps rising, even in the heat. He wants to run.

‘You gonna be okay tho?’ Eddie can’t help it. Stupid. Steve Harrington turning his heart gooey for a second time.

Steve sits up on his elbows and looks at Eddie, eyes suddenly frighteningly clear. ‘You’re a sweet guy Munson. Anyone ever tell you that?’ Eddie shakes his head. ‘My secret then. Eddie Muson, total sweetheart.’ he says it into the breeze and Eddie is set alight at the idea of being seen. Being more than the freak who has the goods so we tolerate him.

‘Don’t go spreading my secrets now Harrington.’ Going for light but the tightness in his throat won’t let him, it comes out raspy. Eddis backs away to his van, parked at the end of the lawn. Steve just huffs a laugh and flops back down.

From the driver's seat Eddie takes his time lighting his cigarette and changing the tape. But his eyes are on Steve, as he gets up on shaky legs, swinging the nearly empty vodka bottle with him. He stumbles back into the huddle of bodies by the front door. Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Steve Harrinton, full of surprises. Eddie drives home and half hopes to never see him again. Eddie doesn’t much care for surprises.

Autumn 1986

Eddie shouldn’t be surprised, not now. Not by the Steve Harrington he went to hell with. Who dragged him back into the light. The boy with the nail bat who never seemed to stop swinging, not till Vecna was gone and the gates were locked up tight. Who’s hand still flexes like he misses the weight of the splintered wood, like he wants it back so he can protect the people he loves. Which by some divine intervention seems to include Eddie Munson of all people.

Eddie shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. Steve Harrington is the single most confusing person Eddie has ever met. He’s obsessed with him. He’s on his way to falling for him. Head over fucking heels fucked for Steve straight boy Harrignton. Divine intervention indeed.

Steve is waiting for him now, leaning on the hood of the beamer, picking him up after physical therapy, which is still kinda kicking his ass. What with the new colder temperatures making his bones ache and his dick nurse insisting that; no he couldn’t suck himself off before so he definitely won't be able to after, even with all the stretching he’s having to do. What fresh hell am I right?

Steve is waiting for him, with his stupid long legs and his ugly jacket and the disgustingly fond smile he tortures eddie with because he’s already wrapped in his winter coat. Hood up against the wind because the last, last! Thing Eddie wants these days is to be cold and apparently that amuses Steve enough to look at Eddie like hes a fucking kitten or something. Horrid!

‘Still a no?’ Eddie is scowling, he knows he is. He shakes his head and Steve's smile just grows a little wider. Fucker.

‘Come on.’ Steve flicks his zipper and Eddie gnashes his teeth at him. He’s not even in that bad a mood. Steve looking after him sometimes just kind of makes him feel all fizzy, electric.

It was worse before. Right after. When Steve was coming to visit him in hospital, almost more than Wayne, bringing Eddie things to read and generally being a ray of fucking sunshine compared to the staff and Eddie himself. He would sit with Eddie and Eddie wouldn’t want to talk because everything hurt. He would sit with Eddie and complain about the kids being annoying, bitch about his parents being the worst and bemoan the fact that he needed to find a new job ASAP and really didn’t want to get another shitty retail one. Wanted to find something he was really good at, maybe help people, look out for them the way he did Dustin and Robin, be something that was all him.

And Eddie? He ate up every bitchy, snarky, earnest moment of it. Got to know Steve Harrington that was equally everything and nothing like who he had met before. But the real fucking cherry on top? Eddie talked too, just as much once he started healing. Talked to Steve with and about Wayne, his shitty Dad, how much he loves metal and Dungeons and Dragons, how all he thinks he’s ever really wants to do is tell stories that make people feel a little less alone.

They talked and Eddie went and ruined it by letting his heart run away with itself. Fucking swan diving right off the ledge named ‘totally normal none gay feelings about Steve Harrington’ and into the pool of regret that is ‘I want to kiss him, I want to kiss him. Please God let me kiss him, it’s me again Eddie Munson.’ Pathetic.

So sometimes, when Steve is being just lovely, picking Eddie up. Eddie’s blood boils in his veins and his scarred skin buzzes with the tension of not being able to hold Steve’s hand across the gear stick like he so desperately wants to.

Eddie doesn't even have the energy to comment on Steve playing The Cure, making fun of him for letting Jonathan rub off on him too much lately (the four (+Argyle) of them hanging out regularly to smoke up). Instead, he internally makes fun of himself for feeling actually personally attacked by how relatable and familiar the whiny, lovesick lyrics sound. The sky opening up into a downpour just adding to the mood, pathetic fallacy up the wazoo today, apparently.

But Steve is talking to him so of course Eddie listens, because it's Steve and Eddie is what? Pathetic. That's right.

‘And then Dustin went on this whole spiel about how I should really be thanking him for everything he does. All the advice he gives me, that I did not, actually, fucking ask for. Can you believe the gaul of that kid Ed’s?’ and Eddie laughs at Steve because actually yes, yes he fucking can.

‘Maybe we should go full revolt and tell Mrs. Henderson about it, really take him down a peg. She’s basically adopted you, she'd take your side for sure Stevie.’ Steve nods at the idea but he’s still scowling because getting wound up seems to be his go to reaction for most things, being vaguely annoyed is his default. Eddie is not happy to admit that this is something he also finds attractive about Steve Harrington. Did he mention he was pathetic?

‘Well before that you talk some sense into him will you? He’s demanded I drive him over here tomorrow to hound you about something or other, don’t know what, he’s being all cagey and secretive about it. The little asshole.’ Steve is pulling into the dirt road driveway where Eddie and Wayne’s new little house sits. Just big enough next to the check and paid medical bills to make that NDA look actually very tempting to sign, yes, thank you, here was it?

Steve parks and the rain beats down on the roof, Eddie shifts to look at Steve's still grumpy face, grinning. ‘You coming in? We can brainstorm, get the little butt head to stop meddling and start respecting his elders. Or you know, we could get high.’ Steve's face morphs into that little smile again, the one he tries to hide, like he's fighting to stay grumpy. Eddie wants to bite him.

Steve's face shifts again and what comes out of his mouth shifts Eddies very being into the fiery pits of despair. At least that’s what he would say if he was unhinged, which he is not. Not. One. Bit.

‘Can’t man, I have a date.’ Steve waggles his eyebrows a little and Eddie feels his grin dim. The remaining smile stiffens. His face like wax.

‘Oh. Well. I won't keep you then. Go get 'em tiger and all that jazz.’ Eddie knows it comes out weird, like he’s annoyed and upset. Which he is. But he knows he absolutely shouldn’t be. He just can't help it. Fuck!

Steve is looking at him, he looks all worried and confused. Of course he's confused, no reason for Eddie to act the way he is. Act like a freak. Eddie needs to get out of here. Save them both from the weird ass vibes his treacherous heart has caused.

Eddie twists for the door. ‘Hold on Eddie, wait with me till the rain stops yeah? I’ll keep the heater running.’ Steve reaches out, hand on his shoulder. Eddie looks at his hand gripping the door handle and wishes. Wishes he could turn around and make a joke, say thank fuck because he doesn’t want to look like a wet rat from the rain, ask steve about the girl, maybe make fun of him if it seems like the really likes her. Anything. Wishes he could just be normal. Normal about Steve Harrington.

But he can’t. Steve has a date and Eddie’s heart hurts.

‘I gotta go Stevie, enjoy your date.’ and Eddie steps out into the rain, jogging over to the front door, already sodden. He unlocks it and steps inside, doesn’t look back once. Leaning against the closed door he slides down into a crouch. He’s in love with him. Fuck.

Winter 1986

‘Stevie? What the fuck?’

Eddie was expecting a night alone. It was the day before Christmas eve and Wayne had gone out with some work buddies. Steve was having some fancy dinner with his parents, Robin’s with her Grandma and the party had plans to all meet and celebrate here tomorrow. So, Eddie was going to sit and stare at a wall. Said wall was going to magically help him work up the courage to maybe kiss Steve’s cheek under the mistletoe that Robin had threatened him with. She knew all about his hopeless, disgusting crush on Steve and seemed to be reaching the end of her patience for Eddie’s chicken shit confession skills.

The plan so far consisted of some amalgamation of making a big joke about it, throwing up before and after or maybe just staring at Steve until he gains the ability to read Eddie’s mind. In other words, the wall was giving him nothing apart from the urge to bang his head against it.

The worst part of it all though? The devastating, world shattering part? Is that Eddie’s grubby little brain was starting to think that he might actually have a chance. Because Steve has been.. a little different lately. And while Robin has confirmed that he has not made any of these memories up in some kind of horny Steve Harrington fueled haze, she has also not explicitly told him whether Steve would actually be interested in dating a guy. So Eddie continues to torture himself with memories.

Memories like when Steve got the new Wham! Record and started asking if he should try growing out his facial hair because ‘it looks really good right Ed’s? With the earring too? Think I could pull it off?’ and then blushing when Eddie said ‘He is a good looking dude… you do kinda look like George Michael, so, I guess?’ because Eddie is trying okay? Feeling the waters that are coming out to Steve. Him blushing seems like a good sign. Right? (Robin had rolled her eyes very hard at this story and Eddie had not appreciated the attitude.)

Or at movie night last week Steve purposefully squished in next to Eddie, making Jonathan move further down. Before like, stretching and putting his arm along the sofa behind Eddie. But halfway through his arm was more, around Eddie's shoulders? And Steve was maybe, maybe twirling a strand of Eddie's hair through his fingers…

There was also maybe the fact that Steve had started staying the night a lot more lately. He did a whole lot before too, but now it feels a little… different. He’s not just there because he’s a biblically accurate angel who helps Eddie change his bandages when Wayne has to work. Or because Eddie smoked him out too hard and he couldn’t drive home. Or even because he has to pick Robin up in the morning and her house is closer to Eddie’s now. No, now it almost feels like Steve stays the night in Eddie’s bed, with Eddie, because he wants to.

God, Eddie wants to barf on himself for even thinking that! But Steve just, doesn’t go home. Instead he shuffles in beside Eddie, in borrowed sweats and having used the toothbrush that’s Steve’s in the bathroom. Snuggles down into Eddie’s pillows and slings a leg over both of Eddies. He’ll look all sleepy and soft and mumble out ‘night Ed’s’, like it doesn’t make Eddie want to clamber on his roof and howl at the moon.

Eddie is busy replaying these moments in his mind like the most depressing, angsty, pining VHS tape. So, hearing the walkie Dustin had given him crackle from under his bed, well, it makes Eddie near jump out of his own skin.

‘Shit. Shit. Hello? Um, hello? Over.’ Eddie’s hands are shaking as he fumbles with the walkie. He’s barely used it since everything ended, much preferring the telephone like, you know, most people!

‘Hi, um, hey Eddie..’ Steve’s crackly voice could be heard through the little speaker. Eddie stands up, taking a calm down lap of his room, his heart still beating fast. ‘Stevie? What the fuck?’

‘Sorry, sorry, this is dumb, sorry. Sorry I’ll, I’ll just go.’ Eddie peeks through his bedroom curtain. Steve, illuminated by the dash light in the front seat of his car, is on the front drive and Eddie can see the walkie gripped tight in both hands. Steve rocking slightly.

‘Oh Stevie.. Come in sweetheart, why are you still outside?’ Eddie’s voice is putty soft because something is wrong. All his fears have been switched for concern as he descends the stairs to the front door. Ripping it open to find Steve with his hand raised ready to knock.

‘Hi’ Steve’s smile is sheepish but Eddie can see his eyes are rimmed red like he’s had the shittiest fucking night. And now he’s embarrassed? Fuck that!

‘Come in, come in come in. Sit down Stevie I’ll get you some tea.’ Eddie putters around the kitchen, making tea as efficiently as possible to not keep Steve waiting, but also wanting to give him time to settle.

He was expecting Steve to be sitting on the couch, but Eddie finds him by the big bay window that looks out over the small backyard and further fields. It’s a nice view and the space is already set up with some blankets and cushions: Eddie likes to read here. Fat snowflakes have begun to fall outside. Steve has a blanket draped over his shoulders, he’s facing the window but his eyes seem to focus on something a million miles away.

‘Here. Take this doll, it’ll keep you warm.’ Eddie hands over the steaming mug and Steve cradles it in his hands, giving Eddie a ghost of a smile.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ bumping shoulders with Steve he waits. Looking at Steve's profile in the soft lamplight. There are ghosts in his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that breaks Eddie’s heart. His brave friend Steve.

‘I just.. Do you ever feel like you weren't made for the real world? Ugh this.. I dunno what I'm saying.’ Steve runs a hand over his face and looks embarrassed. Eddie wishes he could just get it, understand without words so he could help, but life doesn’t work like that. He waits, taking Steve’s hand in both of his. The corners of Steve’s mouth twitch and he looks at their joined fingers. Eddie watches as he takes a deep breath. Eddie thinks he’s beautiful.

‘Its, it's just. When we were there, in that. When all that happened to me. Obviously it was horrible. Terrible. But, for a little moment? I liked it. I liked having a role, a job to do. I knew the stakes and I knew that the only, only important thing was keeping everyone alive. There was nothing more important than that.’ Steve is looking out of the window again. His eyes are fiery and raw. Eddie so often forgets how much Steve has seen, has been through.

‘All my life I've been told what’s important and what to care about. Which ended up being a lot of not caring or only caring about really really unimportant stuff. And I just can't do that again. I can't be what my parents want. My fucking, my Dad man, it’s never enough, watever I do. He made that fucking clear tonight.’ He grimaces and Eddie hopes he never meets Harrington senior because he’s getting decked and Eddie thinks he’s finally on Hopper’s good side so maybe that’s not the best idea. Although, he thinks he can make a pretty good case for himself.

‘I don’t think I can be what anyone wants. Guess I just dunno who I really am. Never have never will… But for a second in that hell, I was somebody. Maybe somebody. And now it's out here again and everyone has all these dreams. And I'm so so happy for them because you all can do anything. Every one of those kids has such a bright future. But I dunno how to do it, Ed’s. I hate it. I dunno how to live as just Steve anymore.’ Steve’s eyes have filled with tears and the hand Eddie’s holding trembles slightly. Eddie lays a soft kiss on his palm.

‘Steve Harrington you are so good.’ Eddie steels himself to look directly in Steve's eyes, making sure he understands. ‘You are free. You are free and that means you can do anything you want. Anything. Doesn’t matter how long you take to figure yourself out, or work out what it is you need. There are no rules okay? None, and anyone who tells you differently is lying. Especially if it’s your cunt dad, okay?’ Steve's pretty pink lips part and his cheeks are rosy, he really looks like he's going to cry. He also looks like that brave boy who swung a bat at the devil. He’s miraculous.

‘The ‘real world’ doesn’t exist and most of the expectations people have are bullshit. I should know, I don’t think I’ve ever done one thing that was expected of me in my whole life, honey. Guess you’re just a freak like me.’ Eddie grins with all his teeth. Steve's mouth opens and closes a couple times, eyes wide. Before he’s looking down at his lap and smiling, a few tears spilling out and dropping onto his jeans. ‘Your role is to be you Steve. Nothing more, nothing less. People love you for you, not for what you did, even though it was fucking incredible. They’re alive because of you but they love you for being you.’ Eddie takes a deep breath and swallows the ‘I love you’ on his tongue, not tonight.. But soon, he’ll do it soon. Pinky promise.

Steve has let more tears fall and he’s looking at Eddie like he's special. ‘Okay?’ Eddie squeezes their hands and Steve nods. ‘Yeah, yeah I’m. It’ll be. I’ll be okay.’ But Steve’s face crumples up again with a small choked sob. He sets down the mug heavily on the floor and covers his eyes with his forearm, folding in on himself. Succumbing to it all for a moment. Letting himself cry.

‘Oh Steve. Tell me what you need, baby.’ Eddie holds their joined hands tighter and tries to suck up all of Steve's sadness through the skin of his palm. Steve sniffs all snotty and rubs at his eyes with his sleeve. Before, finally, looking at Eddie with his pretty brown eyes and his dumb hair and his moles. Eddie’s heart feels loud but Steve's tear stained face looks more calm than he’s seen for a long time. His brave, beautiful, miraculous friend Steve.

“Let's just stay here, watch the snow a little longer." Steve says it softly, the moment feels like glass. The two of them in a snowglobe, safe on a shelf. Together.

‘Of course Stevie. As long as you want. I’ll stay.’ Eddie means it, in his bones, he wants nothing more than to stay in this moment a little longer. Steve asks Eddie to stay and Eddie knows now that he never, ever wants to leave again.

—

Morning light filters through the blinds and Eddie shifts, consciousness swimming in that slow way only deep deep sleep can bring. He feels breath on his neck, the weight of an arm over his chest, a hand on his heart, socked feet tangled amongst his bare ones.

He had taken Steve’s hand last night, after they’d watched the snow leave a blanket over the view from the window. After Steve's tears had dried and his eyelids had begun to droop. He’d lead Steve upstairs and they laid down together, wrapped in eachothers arms. Steve had fallen asleep first and Eddie let himself have a secret selfish moment where he stared down at the boy in his arms. Thought about how much had changed, but how, actually, the Steve in his bed had always been the Steve he knew, he just wasn't ready to see it yet.

Eddie is looking at him now, there's sleep crusted in his eyes and drool on the pillow and Steve's hair is sticking up in an alarming number of angles. He’s so ugly and soft in the mornings. It makes Eddie feel good. Happy.

They laze in bed, waking up slow and taking their time before starting the day. Eddie is on his back staring at the ceiling and Steve is leaning up on one elbow so he’s looking down at Eddie. He's staring. Eddie is trying to be very cool and calm about it. Very cool. Very calm. That's right!

‘Oh shoot.’ Steve snaps his fingers ‘I um, forgot your present at home, kinda left in a rush. Sorry.’ He looks genuinely sorry. Eddie doesn’t really care, because just having Steve here is gift enough. Yup, that's how Eddie Munson feels. It’s gross, he knows.

‘Guess I’ll have to end it all then’ Eddie says with a casual shrug. Steve snorts and shoves him like he doesn’t find Eddie's dramatic’s hilarious.

‘I do have something I can give you now though. A gift of sorts.’ Steve taps a finger to his chin and looks so mischievous. The light from outside hits the back of his hair so it glows, like a halo. Eddie wants to kiss him so bad. Kiss the angel boy in his bed. Shit.

‘It better not be a wet willy. Toby Hamelton gave me one once in the fifth grade and I literally punched him in the face on reflex Steve it was so fucking gross.’ Eddie knows he’s rambling but it’s the only way he won’t kiss Steve right now. Right on his pretty pretty pretty face.

Steve smiles at him so softly, so sweetly, like Eddie isn’t being super weird right now. Smiles at Eddie and leans in, ghosts his mouth so so close over Eddie’s, looks into his eyes. Eddie’s breath hitches and he can’t move but he swears he feels his pupils dilate.

Steve must see it too, because he closes the gap. Eddie’s eyes slide shut and his hands and feet tingle, there are fireworks going off in his ears and his lips fizz and he’s overwhelmed in the best possible way.

He’s kissing Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson is kissing Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is kissing Eddie Munson.

Eddie pulls out of the kiss with a tiny gasp ‘You didn’t suddenly gain the ability to read my mind did you?’ Steve looks so perplexed, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a little ‘o’, staring at Eddie’s mouth. He gives a small shake of his head. ‘Okay good, good yeah. Good.’

Eddie goes back in, lifting a hand to Steve’s jaw, holding him softly while he sucks on his bottom lip. Steve is good at kissing, Eddie thinks he could write a whole album about this kiss alone. Maybe he will. He feels like he can do anything! Maybe he’ll kill God later, after breakfast. Why not? Ha!

They break apart for breath and Steve's pupils are blown wide, Eddie wants to drown in them. He feels giddy, maybe a little hysterical. ‘You know, before you came over yesterday I was working up the courage to kiss your cheek under the mistletoe.. Which seems super lame and embarrassing now that I think about it. Forget I said anything actually. Yeah, uhm so... Anyway, thank you. For. For the gift.’ Steve is loosing romance points for every stupid word he lets Eddies say.

‘That is pretty lame dude’ Steve smiles sweetly and Eddie knows it's lame and Steve is probably joking but he doesn't need to to be told that right now. Nasty boy… Also.

‘Dude? You sully this rapturous moment, nay my very existence! By calling me dude?’ Is that normal? Do people do that after they kiss? Surely Steve doesn't call girls he kisses dude. Oh no, Eddie’s spiralling. This is a spiral.

‘Eddie’ Steve tries but Eddie’s brain is filled with static. Eyes boring holes in the ceiling, hands flailing.

‘Steve Harrington kisses Eddie Munson and calls him dude, well I never!’ The gaul! The gumption! The audacity!

‘Eddie!’ Steve places his hand on Eddie’s cheek, turning it so they're looking into eachothers eyes.

‘Yes?’ Steve is so pretty and his palm is so warm.

‘I really really like you Ed’s’ and Steve must be able to read Eddie's mind because those words are like a balm on his soul. He feels his cheeks dust pink, all the fears and embarrassment float. Steve likes him back.

Leaning back onto his elbow Steve looks back down at Eddie on his back. The same as before but so so different. ‘Happy Christmas Eddie’ Steve's smile is dopey and perfect and this is the best Christmas ever.

#LexsWinterFicChallenge #StrangerThingsFestiveFun #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #christmas steddie #my fic #goblin and stevie baby big time #this was so fun to write #hope u all enjoy #can't wait for the little gay people in my phone to finally read this #hope it has them screaming!#hotlunch #<3

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inkskinned · 1 year

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one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.

in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.

disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.

desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.

in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?

we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.

except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?

and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.

to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."

this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.

in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.

the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.

and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.

some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.

the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.

we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?

"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.

there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.

#does this make sense #to do be deleted probably yikes #(takes a swing at a wasp's nest)#like i think ppl have started to just be really quiet when they like something 'problematic'#and im like... u can be like -#girl tswift NEEDS to just TAKE A BUS . LIKE?????????????????????#while also being like.#''she's a lot of fun''#if ur personal policy is that u don't support her for that reason that's great #but it's like. eating meat???#like yeah some people won't bc the environment. but the fact i eat meat doesn't mean i hate the earth #like i can say that i think the meat industry is HORRIFIC and also downright cruel to its employees #but like. still enjoy a chicken nugget....#there are people who choose otherwise. it's okay . we are people. i make like no money. u probably don't either #us fighting about whether or not it's Right To Eat The Chicken Tender just distracts from like.#actually turning your ire on the corporation #i hope it's clear what i'm saying here is like. when we fight each other for Purity Reasons #we are just doing the work of corporations . for free. like they WANT us to be doing this lol #it's the fucking DREAM of the upperclass that now ALL forms of responsibility fall on the individual

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