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laundrybiscuits · 2 years

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(wait for the season to come back to me tag | 1 | 2 | 3)

“Okay, so when you say you were a monster, what do you mean?” asks Robin.

“Ah-ah-ah, pay attention, Buckley. This is important.” Eddie kicks up his feet, arms stretched across the back of the couch. “I am a monster. Present tense.”

“What kind of monster?” Robin’s voice is very even, but Steve can see the way she’s gone still.

“It’s funny,” says Eddie. “Harrington hasn’t asked a single question about that.”

Robin gives Steve a look. It’s not hard to guess what she’s thinking. She’s not wrong, but—it’s just seemed so much more important to show Eddie the photos, in case it might make Eddie smile. He'd just wanted to get Eddie to stick around a little longer. It had seemed important.

“So, here’s the rundown,” says Eddie. He’s still leaning back, eyes half-lidded, but his voice has sharpened to something firmer and more authoritative. “I’m basically a vampire. The labcoats gave me some kind of fancy official scientific name, but I drink blood and fly, so they can suck my undead balls. Animal blood’s okay to keep me going, but I need a hit of human every so often or things get funky. I’ve got a hookup at St. Joseph’s, which is why I’m in this damn city at all. Um, what else…oh, sunlight’s not great for me. I’m a bona fide card-carrying creature of the shadows now.”

“Shit,” says Steve. “Wait, where are you staying during the daytime? Is it safe?”

Eddie stares at him. “That’s your next question? What the fuck, Harrington.”

“Hey, hi, I have questions,” says Robin. “This St. Joe’s hookup, what exactly is he giving you? How did you find this guy? Have you ever killed anyone? How worried should we be?”

“Well, the answer to that last question is complicated.” Eddie winks at her, grinning. “But don’t worry, Buckley, I’m not gonna eat you.”

“Uh, good,” Robin snaps. “You’re not exactly my type, Eddie.”

“Oh!” Eddie clutches at his chest, draping himself over the side of the couch. “The heartbreak, the agony, how will I ever recover. ‘Tis a mortal wound, Lady Robin.”

“So where are you staying during the daytime?” Steve asks again.

Eddie sits up. There’s some fluff in his hair, because they don’t clean their couch basically ever. “There’s an empty building around Logan Square, think it used to be a hairdresser's or something. I just need somewhere with cover during the day, so I’ve been camping out in the back room. I’ve got—they’re giving me, like, an allowance as long as I come back in for testing every month, but it turns out it’s kinda complicated to rent a place when you legally don’t exist.”

“Stay here,” Steve says instantly. “You should stay here.” He glances at Robin to double-check it’s okay, but she’s already nodding.

“Yeah, Eddie, don’t squat in abandoned buildings. But first tell us some more about your secret blood dealer at St. Joe’s, because I think we need to have a house discussion before we start storing bodily fluids in the fridge.”

———

Despite his best intentions, it’s been a long day, and Steve starts nodding off around midnight while Robin peppers Eddie with endless questions.

He swims halfway back to consciousness at the low rumble of Eddie’s voice. It’s coming from above him, and he muzzily realizes that his head is on Eddie’s lap. Good. At least Eddie can’t leave without Steve noticing.

“So…don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Eddie, nothing good has ever followed that phrase in the history of the world.”

“I just wanna know. It seems like Steve’s…like you’re doing a little better than Steve, with like, me coming back and all.”

Robin makes a considering noise. Steve can picture the exact face she’s making. He stays very still and keeps his breathing slow and deep.

“It’s not that I didn’t…I think by the time everything went down, back then, I already hated Hawkins. I already knew I wanted to get out and see how much more I could learn about the world. Steve was still hanging onto this whole idea of being normal, you know? He still wanted to stay in Hawkins, raise a family, do all the shit his parents did.”

“Sure,” says Eddie. “Not exactly a surprise.”

“Right, but, the thing is…he would’ve been so, so miserable. I thought exactly the same thing as you when I met him: that he was just another dumbass who peaked in high school and didn’t have the freaking imagination to want anything more than pep rallies and a nice house. But Steve’s not like that at all.”

“I’m starting to see that,” says Eddie softly. His hand ghosts over Steve’s head.

“Yeah.” Robin sounds like she’s smiling. “He’s kind of a weirdo. Anyway, with everything that went down over that Spring Break, I think he finally realized that Hawkins was just a shitty small town in the middle of nowhere, and that if things had gone a little differently for him, he might’ve been Jason Carver himself.”

“Who? Oh right, the basketball guy.”

Robin laughs, still kind of quietly. “Hot tip: don’t say his name around Steve. I think he, like, embodies everything that Steve hates about Hawkins now. Steve totally blames him for your…you know. What happened to you.”

“Shit.” There’s a rustle as Eddie leans back. “That week really made an impact, huh.”

“Honestly, if it weren’t for you—like, if Vecna had picked some other random victims, I think Steve would still be in Hawkins, married to some former prom queen and hating his life. I mean, obviously what happened fucked me up too, but it didn’t completely reroute my life the way it did with him. For me, you coming back is like, a big deal and amazing and great and also completely crazy. But it's like, an event, you know? It's something new that's happening. For Steve, it’s like one of the most defining moments of his life is suddenly getting a sequel.”

“Glad I could contribute to his character development,” says Eddie.

“I mean, yeah? So did I? And he contributed to mine, too. That’s just…meeting people. That’s just letting people matter to you.”

“I’m not mad about it, Buckley, christ. It’s just weird to think about, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been platonic roommates with Steve Harrington for like eight years now, and you’re a vampire. I don’t think any of us really know how life’s going to go.”

Eddie hums in agreement, petting Steve’s head a little more. Steve lets himself sink back down into sleep, safe and warm and known.

#steddie #fic: wait for the season to come back to me #vampire eddie munson #might have to get this up on ao3 soon #I probably should not be writing as much as I've been lately tbh #my irl responsibilities are slightly in shambles #but I'm so weak for the concept of confronting images that other people have of you #what I'm trying to get at here isn't EXACTLY a parasocial relationship but it bears some notable similarities #and I just love leaning into the inherent messiness of that dynamic

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