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#pov eddie munson
mcdynamite · 1 year
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When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.
Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?
Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.
It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.
He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.
The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.
It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?
Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.
The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.
It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 
He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.
The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.
What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.
Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.
Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-
Oh, no.
Oh, fuck no.
Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.
Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.
He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-
"Eddie?"
Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?
Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.
Christ, this is going to be so bad.
So, so bad.
"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"
Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.
"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."
Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.
"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."
Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"
Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."
That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.
But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.
Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.
Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.
It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.
"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.
His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.
It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.
NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.
It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.
His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.
The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.
"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.
Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.
Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?
"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."
So much for plausible deniability.
He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.
"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."
The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.
"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.
"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."
Eddie freezes.
"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"
Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 
It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 
"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"
"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.
"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"
"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.
"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"
"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"
At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.
Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.
"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."
"You... I... What? Since when?"
"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."
Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"
Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 
"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"
Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.
Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 
If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 
"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."
"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.
"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.
Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.
If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."
A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 
And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.
"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."
Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.
"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."
Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.
"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"
Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.
So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.
He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.
"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."
There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.
It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.
Eddie wonders if maybe they were.
When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.
"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."
Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."
And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.
Eddie can't fucking wait.
He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.
Oh, God, he gets it.
Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.
He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.
Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...
And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.
"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.
Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.
"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."
Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.
"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."
Steve just smiles and kisses him again.
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hbyrde36 · 3 months
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Times Like These
(The Anniversary Edition)
Link to anniversary post
Now with amazing FANART 😱
When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused.
-Or-
What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?
Chapter 1: The Hell Loop
WC: 2,902 | AO3 link
Eddie could hardly breathe past the blood that was flooding into his mouth, threatening to choke him before he even had the opportunity to bleed out. He tried to keep it together for Dustin’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to get hurt or have to see something like this, hence the cutting of the rope, but traumatized was a hell of a lot better than dead, so he couldn’t regret either of the choices he’d made.
“I love you, man.” 
Eddie forced the words out, coughing and sputtering
“I love you too.” Dustin replied.
Eddie couldn’t see anymore, but the tears in the younger boy's voice were hard to miss. 
It was the last thing he heard before he died.
Dying didn’t hurt, quite the opposite actually. Eddie could pinpoint the exact moment he passed on, because it was the same moment the pain stopped. He found himself floating away into an unfamiliar blackness and couldn’t even bring himself to be scared. He was too relieved at being free of the agony and guilt.
Before he could do much more than wonder where he was floating off to, a loud almost overwhelming rushing sound hit his ears. Instinctually, he tried to cover them to drown out the noise, only to realize he didn’t exactly have a body right now. No ears to cover, no hands to do it with.
With that frightening thought his eyes shot open, -oh thank fuck he had eyes again- and his feet hit solid ground. Inexplicably, he was back in the trailer. He looked up to find that the ceiling was intact, and Chrissy Cunningham– whole, and alive, was standing just a few feet in front of him, looking nervous and jittery. 
“Are you sure you have it?”
What the actual fuck?
“Holy shit, Chrissy! You’re alive?!” Eddie gasped.
Her face twisted up in confusion, a feeling Eddie was also becoming intimately familiar with. What was this? Some life-flashing-before-your-eyes-on-the-way-to-the-grave bullshit? But he was already dead, he was sure of it, so that could only mean…
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out. 
Why he was apologizing to some visage of the past that probably wasn't even real, he did not know, but it felt appropriate. 
She’d been through a lot. 
“You’re probably not alive, actually, if you’re here. Since I'm, y’know– dead, and all.” He continued, letting out a frankly deranged sounding laugh as he began to pace around the room.
“But why are you here?” He mused, thinking out loud.
It could actually be her, he reasoned. She was dead too, right? But that would mean they wound up in the same place and that was absolutely ridiculous. 
A sweet little thing like her? 
Guaranteed one way ticket to the good place. 
And Eddie? 
Well, he never had any doubts about where he was going to end up.
The realization hit him like a Mack truck, stopping him in his tracks. 
“Oh my god, I’m in Hell. This is Hell. I ran away. I ran– I didn’t even try to help you and then I fucking died!” Eddie let out a painful sob as he dropped to his knees on the floor, hands covering his face. Now that he was back here, having to face her again after what he’d done, It was all hitting him at once. 
His voice shook as he continued rambling. “Right in front of Dustin too… and- and now this is my Hell. I’ll probably have to watch you die, over-and-over-and-over again.”
He felt the air shift, heard the light footsteps as Chrissy took a few hesitant steps towards him. 
“Watch me die?” She said, voice cracking, sounding so, so small and scared. “Eddie, please… you’re kind of freaking me out.”
Shit, he really couldn’t stop fucking this up could he? 
Even if Hell-Chrissy wasn’t real, he still felt horrible for scaring her. None of this was her fault. He rubbed at his face hard and took a deep calming breath before looking up at her again. 
She wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She was rigid, staring straight ahead at something he couldn’t see, only the whites of her eyes visible as they rolled to the back of her head. 
He jumped to his feet, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run, again, but fuck that. He was already dead, probably, and none of this was real– he was almost sure none of this was real, but maybe he could still try to help her. 
Music had snapped Red out of it, maybe it would work for Chrissy too. 
Eddie raced to his bedroom, snatching his Walkman off the bed before sprinting back to the living room. He knew it was pretty fucking unlikely that the head cheerleader of Hawkins High was a secret Metallica fan, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
He gently placed the headphones over her ears and pressed play, the volume loud enough that he could just make out the sound of the opening riff to Master of Puppets.
-
It didn’t work. 
He hadn’t really thought it would.
He forced himself to watch as her body began to float.
Listened to the sickening snap as each of her arms and legs were twisted, and broken.
Stood frozen, a silent witness, unmoving until her body dropped to the floor like a ragdoll.
He didn't even scream.
He’d tried, and he hadn’t let her die alone. It was all he could do.
Hell or not, Eddie wasn’t keen on hanging out with a dead body if he could help it. So finally, he let himself go, grabbing his keys off the counter, and rushed out to the van.
Eddie drove slowly, aimlessly around town, at a bit of a loss for what to do next. It was a far cry from the way he’d peeled out of the trailer park and sped down the road on the night of Chrissy’s actual death, heart racing like a trapped rat desperately seeking shelter from a predator he couldn't even see. This time around he just felt numb.
Not knowing what else to do, he decided to follow his previous course of action. If he was right in assuming that he was being made to relive his greatest hits from the last 7 days, at least this way he knew he’d get to see Dustin’s face again. He drove towards Lover’s Lake, already dreading spending another night at Rick’s.
The morning after a sleepless night found him back in a boat, hiding under a tarp, and clutching tightly to the neck of a broken beer bottle. The numbness had faded hours ago, leaving the door open for anxiety and terror to return in full force. In short, Eddie was freaking out. 
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d left Chrissy's body to grow cold on the living room floor, but the second he heard the voices outside the boathouse he went into panic mode, just as he had the first time, unsure of what or who might be coming for him. 
Would it be more visions from the past? Or had the devil finally sent his minions to collect.
A few confusing moments, and a jab to the ribs with a fucking wooden oar later, Eddie was, for the second time in his life, throwing Steve Harrington violently against a wall and shoving a jagged edge of glass close enough to his throat that one deep breath would draw blood.
He stared into the other boy's eyes from inches away, and he wanted to drop the bottle. He remembered every single thing Steve and the others had done for him as he faced down the worst week of his life, but this could very well be Hell. 
And that might not be the Steve he’d come to trust.
The one he’d come to know wasn’t the same stuck up asshole he remembered from high school, who had proven time and time again that he was a good guy.
And he couldn’t afford to be wrong.
“Eddie! Stop!” The thing that looked like Dustin shouted. “Eddie, it’s me, it's Dustin. This is Steve, he’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?”
Eddie, wanting to believe it so badly, actually did lower the bottle a little, only to accidentally drop it to the ground, his only weapon shattering at his feet. 
He fisted a hand into the front of Steve’s shirt. 
“What are you doing here man, what do you want from me?” 
Steve dropped the oar, all the breath whooshing out of him at once. “Dustin and Max wanted to find you. I’m just here to keep the little shits safe, I swear.”
Eddie caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Robin and Max began to approach from the side cautiously. Right, they had been there too, he'd almost forgotten. 
“We just want to know what happened, Eddie. We wanna help,” Max said.
It was the earnestness in her voice that got him, that made him finally break and move away from Steve, allowing Robin to rush to his side. 
“You won’t believe me,” Eddie said, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice with the way it trembled. 
He was sure they wouldn't believe it. If it even mattered, if they were even really here, if any of this was even real. 
He was still pretty convinced this was all just some form of divine punishment, and only happening in his own head, after all. 
It wasn’t about what happened to Chrissy. He knew they would believe that, they had once already, but whatever else was going on here? This deja vu flashback thing or whatever it was? They had no reason to trust he was telling the truth about the fact that he was dead– or had died temporarily? Or that this had all happened to him before. 
It was, admittedly, unbelievable. 
So, he made a choice. He didn't tell them that part. He told the same story he had the first time around and they in turn told him a very short history of the Upside Down. It didn’t hit so hard this time, since he’d already heard it all once before, but it was still wild to think about everything this group had been through. He couldn’t believe it’d all been happening right under his nose.
Despite himself, he watched Steve through most of the explanations. Eddie had been so focused on his own experience at the time that he hadn’t paid much attention to him after the attempted throat slashing. He looked dejected, sad, already resigned to the fact that the monsters he’d been protecting these kids from for years now were back, again. Eddie sympathized.
-
The week flew by in a blur of blood, sweat, and tears, events unfolding in the exact same way that he remembered, and he never said a word about it to anyone. 
He kept expecting it all to end somehow. 
On the rare occasion that he fell asleep,  he thought for sure he would wake up from this nightmare either back in his bed after having the longest most fucked up dream of his life, or somewhere– else, preferably on a fluffy cloud after having served his penance for petty crimes.
Unless god actually did hate the gays… then he was fucked. 
It wasn’t until he and Dustin were alone, after fortifying the trailer and getting his guitar set up that he decided– maybe he’d been an idiot to just keep going along with the script like this. It’d been days without so much as a hint of fire and brimstone, so either he'd been sold a bill of goods his whole life about what Hell would be like, or, this was really happening. 
Again. 
At this point, neither possibility was a particularly good one. If he’d been somehow sent back in time and given a second chance, he had absolutely screwed it up. 
Fuck it, he might as well tell Dustin now at least. See what happened.
“Alright, uh, listen, I have to tell you something– and I’m not sure you’re going to believe me but I swear I’m telling you the truth.”
Dustin laughed, bright and incredulous as he checked the plugs on the amp one last time. “After everything we’ve been through the past few days, and the shit I’ve seen over the last three years, do you really think there’s anything I wouldn’t believe?”
Ok, kid had a point. 
Eddie took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.
Here goes nothing. 
“I’ve been through this before, all of it, with you guys. For a while I thought I was in Hell, y’know? Doomed to relive Chrissy’s death over and over again, and between you and me I’m still not totally sure that isn’t the case, but then you guys found me in that damn boathouse just like before, and everything else has happened exactly like I remember, and I-” 
His speech was cut short by Dustin screeching, “Are you serious right now?! You have to be fucking kidding me! I can’t believe you… you’re in a time loop and you didn’t say anything?!”
Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised up nearly to the bandana he had tied around his head. “Wait, you believe me?! Just like that?!”
Dustin put his hands on his hips, in a gesture that was eerily reminiscent of a certain babysitter that Eddie definitely hadn't developed the habit of staring at at every given opportunity. 
Not the time!
“I wouldn’t say, just like that.” Dustin said, snapping his fingers. “If it was anyone outside of the party I would think they were crazy, but this is you we’re talking about. And like I said, after everything? This is not that hard to swallow. I mean, why would you make something like that–”
Dustin stopped abruptly, his entire demeanor changing on a dime as if he’d just discovered something awful. Belatedly, Eddie realized his mistake.
“Eddie, why would you think you were in Hell? Did you… “ The kid trailed off, and when he spoke next his voice was thick with unshed tears. “Do we lose? Did you…die?”
Eddie sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I didn’t think– I guess there’s no way to tell you I might be repeating time without admitting it. Yeah, I… died. As far as Vecna, I have no idea. I was gone before Steve, Robin, and Nancy got back.”
Before he could respond, the Walkie in Dustin’s hand came to life, with Robin’s voice crackling through the small speaker. “She’s in, move on to phase 3. Over.”
“Guess that’s it. Time’s up.” Eddie muttered.
Dustin bit his lip as he looked at Eddie, eyes questioning and full of fear.
Eddie shook his head, silently answering the unasked question. He didn’t want Dustin to tell them, or try and stop this. It was too late. He refused to risk the kid, or somehow make things worse by changing the plan this late in the game. 
Dustin squeezed his eyes closed and pressed the button on the handset to reply, “Copy that, initiating phase three. Over.”
Eddie gave the kid his best reassuring smile as he pulled the guitar strap up over his head and with shaking hands began to play, knowing there was no time to waste. 
-
Bleeding out wasn’t any more fun the second time around. 
Eddie had given it his all, fighting tooth and nail against those flying leeches, but there was no use. There were hundreds of them, and only one of him. Just as he had the first time he took off on that bike to lead the bats away, he’d known the fate he was resigning himself to. The difference this time was, he actually had a sliver of hope. 
If the impossible happened once, maybe it could happen again. 
“Sorry, kid.” Eddie said, choking back blood as he watched Dustin limp towards him. “Didn’t notice the leg last time–“ He paused, panting, trying to catch his breath. Talking had already become difficult. “Shouldn’t have cut the rope, s’not like it stopped you.” 
He forced a smile, trying so hard not to let it show on his face just how much pain he was in. Not that there was much point, the kid had eyes. He could surely see the red ruin Eddie’s body had become.
Dustin sobbed openly and it broke Eddie’s heart. 
“God damnit, Eddie!” He shouted, shaking his head and pounding the ground with his fist. “Promise me if you get another shot at this that you’ll tell me. Tell me as soon as you possibly can about the time loop. Please! We have to come up with another plan.”
Eddie wanted nothing more than to be able to scoop the boy into his arms and comfort him, might have tried anyway but he couldn't move. “What if you don’t believe me?” He choked out.
“I'm adopted,” Dustin blurted out through his sniffles. “My mom only told me last year. No one else knows, not even Steve, but… I trust you, Eddie. I’d believe you without it, but if you need to, tell me that and I’ll believe you.”
Eddie nodded, or tried to, and felt Dustin’s hand slip into his. 
“I love you, man”
“I love you too”
Chapter 2
Thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.
Shoutout also to @theheadlessphilosopher @withacapitalp and @hitlikehammers for the help and encouragement to do this.
Tagging a few friends that expressed interest or I think might be interested? I am ALWAYS happy to tag or remove - just let me know!
Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @mentallyundone @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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Eddie grew up as a creature of the night. It was to no one’s surprise really. The day was exhausting but the night was always full of this chaotic energy that he loved. The night was mysterious and other, the wonders of it still unexplored.
Eddie felt one with the night. He made friends with the moon and the stars. And although there were times that would pass where he could not see them, where there was nothing but the inky abyss, he knew they were still there. Hidden but never gone.
It started when he was young, his love of night. Eddie thought it had probably started when he was just a boy. Dumped his Uncle Wayne’s doorstep. He had been terrified, whisked away by a father on the run just as dusk brushed against the horizon. They had made it to Wayne’s trailer precisely as the evening settled into its peak. Eddie’s father hadn’t even bothered knocking. Just left Eddie on the porch with one backpack and a buzzed head. And Eddie waited there for a moment, looked up at the sky and thought it wasn’t that lonely with stars out.
His wondering mind was interrupted by Wayne pulling the door open and yanking Eddie inside no questions asked. The night was when Wayne had given Eddie a home.
As the years past, his fascination with night only grew stronger. It helped bring people closer to him. Eddie interpreted the night into campaigns, songs and even advice for the kids (lots of night metaphors for failed dating lives). He got most of his work done at this time. His mind coming alive and bursting with ideas. Wayne’s schedule was at night too. So when he worked, Eddie shared odd meals with his old man. And when Wayne was off, his brain like Eddie’s ran with the schedule of the moon.
The night also helped Eddie learn to be okay with being alone. Late night drives. Walks in the woods. Stargazing from a picnic bench. All things he had learned to enjoy his own company while doing.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like they day per say, or the sun. It’s just that Eddie had found the day boring. There was no wonder, no lust, no mystery. There was no appeal. The world was too bright, too open. There was no exploring and there was no comfort. Just exposure.
Then Eddie met Steve Harrington officially. Well, officially for the first time after everything. After the High School bullshit. After the wild adventures of the (please god never again) Upside down. When Eddie met Steve officially, in his hospital room, he is baffled to find him awake at 6 am, with a smile on his face.
And all Steve said was, “Glad you made it to actually see another sunrise.”
Like it was nothing. Like at of all the things that had blown Eddie’s mind the past week, or even more specifically out of all the things Eddie had learned about Steve Harrington, the thing that absolutely floored Eddie was the fact the Steve Harrington was a morning person.
It shouldn’t had bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he had been planning on become friends with the guy. But then he did, and Eddie couldn’t help but spiral.
Because no one should like the day as much as Steve did. Sure, Eddie was most definitely being a hypocrite. Like he had proclaimed himself as the goblin king of night once (although very drunk on Nancy’s whiskey), and Eddie prided himself on being a freak and accepting of everyone. So it was probably unfair of him to judge but this was excessive.
The day was everywhere when it came to Steve. He woke up early. He laid out in the backyard against the pavement. Steve would ask Eddie to go chase dawn with him on an early morning drive. It was in Steve’s wardrobe for Christ sake. That yellow sweater haunted his dreams, and Steve looked so good in it, and Eddie can’t help but stare—
The day was everywhere when it came to Steve Harrington.
And Eddie was damn fool who fell in love with him.
Eddie had fallen for the unattainable. The straight boy. His best friend. The guy who picked him up from a bad date in Indie no questions asked. The guy who shared a bed with him after plenty of nightmares. The guy who listened. The guy who cared.
The King and the Freak. The day to his night. The absolutely, infuriatingly opposite of what Eddie is allowed to like, allowed to have.
It had gotten so bad, that Eddie, when he couldn’t sleep and Steve wasn’t around, found himself whispering to the night about him. Told it how although Steve and the night didn’t meet very often, Eddie was certain it would love him anyway.
Eddie knew Steve was just as baffled by Eddie’s love of the darkness.He had asked once how he could stand it.
“Don’t the nightmares make you hate it? The lack of sleep alone makes me hate it, and that’s not even when I remember what the upside down looked like. No light, only hazy red darkness? Not for me man. Never again.” Steve had said while they passed a joint.
“I don’t know man, it’s not the nights fault really. Like it doesn’t matter the time of day, I still get nightmares. It’s not the night’s fault the Upside Down exists, and what it looks like. I guess I feel a solidarity with the night now. Even more than I did before. Something being blamed for simply being there. A scapegoat.” Eddie leaned into Steve’s side as he sunk further into the couch. He kinda feared he had said the word night too much in his speech.
Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, something of understanding passed on his face. “Actually, that kind of makes sense. I kinda expected you to talk in weird metaphors to explain it—“
“I still got stars wars analogy up my sleeve.”
Steve pushed on and ignored Eddie, “—but I get it. Like the night, you’re a reminder to people of the bad things that happen even if you’re just there, just existing…It’s complicated, and beautiful and very weird. Just like you”
Eddie didn’t hold back the smile when he said “Steve Harrington, are you calling me beautiful?”
“Yes I am.”
They stared at each other for awhile, no words spoken. It should had unsettled Eddie, or even spark useless hope in him. It didn’t though.
It just made him feel content. Good. Home.
He never felt the need to explain the night to Steve again.
Weeks later, Eddie learned why the day was good too. It was another night spent in Steve’s bed when the nightmares built up for days, with no end in sight. For once Eddie had woken up first. Steve’s head on Eddie’s bare chest. Eddie’s fingers combed through his soft hair, and he hummed softly to nothing but the dawn. The sunrise had started to slowly peak into Steve’s room. Because of course, even the day started towards Steve.
Steve’s eyes had fluttered open unhurriedly. Then he tilted his head up towards Eddie and did something that changed him forever.
Eddie expected him to freak out. For Steve to push him away in horror. To scream, and hit Eddie even. They had shared a bed before but it had never been that intimate. And Eddie knew his face wasn’t hiding any of his feelings either. Eddie, like the night, was only a mystery to those who didn’t know what to look for. And Steve always knew what to look for.
Steve did none of that though. Instead, Steve reached up slowly, brushed his lips across Eddie’s cheek and said, “Good morning, darling.”
Eddie felt his whole body stop and revive back to life in that instant. He died and became a new person. And then Steve, Steve took it even further when he laid back down on Eddie’s chest, without breaking eye contact, and beamed up at him.
Eddie now understands why Steve loved the day. It was because Steve loved the sun. And when Steve smiles at him, Eddie can’t help but think that Steve was the sun. And how Eddie loved the sun too.
Eddie couldn’t be stopped from kissing him in that movement.
Eddie kissed Steve like the morning. Slow, warm, and just as meaningful. There was no rush. It was waking up in comfort. Eddie had always imagined that if he ever got to kiss Steve it would be as chaotic and harsh as the night.
Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to want it in any other way in that moment. It made Eddie ache. It was sincere. It was sweet. It was devout.
Eddie leaned back to take a breath as he said, “Good morning, sunshine.”
———
this is my first stab at writing something eddie centric, so sorry if it’s rough, but it did come straight from the heart. I had fun writing it (as usual at 2 am, which is really in line with this narrative i now realize). It was fun to kinda project my own feelings do the day v night debate. I’m a night owl, and I love all things that come with it. But there is something so comforting about daylight and the warmth of the sun. <3
send me something to write next. :)
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penny00dreadful · 3 months
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For Holly
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For @hbyrde36's anniversary rewrite of Times Like These.
When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused. -Or- What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?
I am so delighted to have you in this fandom with me, love. It's been the best of times and I can't wait to have so many other unhinged times with you in the future. 💜🖤
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i'm feeling devious (you're looking glamorous)
Author: fivecenturiesverse Fandom: Stranger Things
Summary: Steve Harrington is secretly a nerd. He's also, in Eddie's opinion, a massive dick. (Or: five times nobody but Eddie believes that Steve is a giant nerd, and one time he tells everyone else.)
Readers Notes: This fic is light, fluffy, and touchingly real. Amazing writing with great characterization, what’s not to love? The author captures Eddie’s frustration and astonishment beautifully, managing to balance the humor of the situation with a plot that’s lightweight enough to feel approachable and is easily digestible. While this fic isn’t a steddie must read, its definitely a should read.
Rating: Teen   Warning:  N/A   Words: 3,127        Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Additional tags: POV Eddie Munson, 5+1 Things, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is Bad at Flirting, Steve Harrington is a Nerd, Platonically Married Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Mentions of Death, Humor, Fluff
Additional Info:
  Podfic Available by renna_jenkins
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steddilly · 1 month
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers, Jason Carver, Jason Carver's Parents Additional Tags: Steve Harrington Whump, Hurt Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie Munson, Vampire Eddie Munson, Werecoyote Steve Harrington, Werecreature Steve Harrington, Werewolf Jim "Chief" Hopper, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, POV Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Kidnapped Steve Harrington, Grumpy Jim "Chief" Hopper, Minor Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Pre-Relationship Summary:
Eddie thought he was going to have an easy day, but when a group of hunters intrude on his lunch with their pet werecoyote, he calls for backup to save the guy in the form of resident werewolf Chief Hopper. Together they're able to get him away from the hunters and to Hopper's cabin, but what do they do with him now that he's safe?
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dutchimagine · 11 months
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pov: Eddie is a horse
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Chapter Two: The Princess and the Jester
Rating: T
Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson
Summary: It's fifteen minutes to showtime and Eddie's a nervous wreck when he sees a familiar face in the crowd.
I’ve been absolutely blown away by the response to the first chapter of this little fic. Thank you to all my fellow Hellcheer shippers for being so welcoming. I think I originally started writing this chapter in Chrissy’s POV before deciding that it would be more fun to see it from Eddie’s perspective. After all, there’s a reason this is tagged “Idiots in Love” *wiggles eyebrows*. Thanks once again to my beta, Ry, for taking a look at this chapter. You can find her at ryleighjosephinne on AO3 and at @dustinswill on Tumblr. I hope you all enjoy part 2! I think I've read through it about five times in the last two days, so I'm ready for it to be out there.
Chapter One. Chapter Two.
Read on AO3
As Eddie waited backstage with Jeff and Grant, he fiddled with the skull ring on his pinky finger. The din of the crowd, waiting for the concert to begin, rose behind the curtain. His heart raced in time with the clock above the stage manager’s station on the black cinderblock walls.
“I can’t do this,” Eddie blanched, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “This is the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for.” He crouched on the floor while the backline and lighting crew scurried past him as if nothing was wrong.
“Hey, snap out of it,” Jeff snapped a finger in front of his face.
“But what if I mess everything up?” Eddie wondered, eyes downcast.
“You won’t,” Jeff hauled Eddie to his feet. “You electrify a crowd when you play that guitar. You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t feel fine,” Eddie scoffed, straightening his leather jacket.
“Here,” Grant walked past the sound monitors and tossed him a water bottle. “You’ll feel better.”
“I sure hope so,” Eddie muttered, twisting off the cap to take a sip. The ice-cold water glided down his throat with each gulp.
“Hey,” Gareth mused, “is that Chrissy Cunningham?”
Eddie spewed water all over the floor.
He whipped around toward Gareth, who peeked past the curtain onto the pit.
“I thought she was only coming to the Indianapolis shows?” Jeff interjected.
“She didn’t tell me she was coming!” Eddie set down his half-drunk water and marched to the curtain, peering over Gareth’s shoulder into the crowd.
Chrissy stood at the edge of the stage, looking like a fish out of water in her matching pastel blue miniskirt, sweater, and white Keds. After she checked her watch, she ran a hand through her teased strawberry-blonde hair and fidgeted with one of her many necklaces.
His stomach flipped. Chrissy wore his ring on her hand.
“That’s definitely her,” Eddie mumbled.
“You don’t think she read the interview, do you?” Gareth asked.
Eddie’s heart plummeted.
“When was that supposed to come out?” Eddie questioned through tight lips. “I was supposed to tell her not to read it until she saw me at the Indianapolis show.”
“Last Tuesday,” Jeff replied as he and Grant joined Eddie and Gareth at the curtain. “Maybe she doesn’t read Rolling Stone.”
Chrissy took a poster from the dark-skinned girl in fishnets and combat boots beside her. Eddie waited with bated breath for her to flip it over.
His heart sank once more when he read, “EDDIE MUNSON WE NEED TO TALK” in Chrissy’s perfect handwriting.
“Ouch,” Grant patted him on the back. “Sorry, dude.”
Eddie glanced at the clock above the manager’s podium—still fifteen minutes to curtain.
He could fix this.
_________
He could not fix this.
While he waited for the security guards to bring Chrissy and her friend to their small green room, every tick of the clock reverberated against the white-washed walls. His heartbeat slowed to match; butterflies danced in his chest.
Eddie paced up and down the room, shaking his hands as he dodged the cherry coffee table in front of the couch.
“Dude, sit down,” Gareth called from the couch. “You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”
Eddie bit his lip. “Alright.”
He perched on the brown couch between Jeff and Grant, tapping his fingers on his bouncing leg.
He froze as the green room door creaked open.
Without ceremony, a security guard ushered Chrissy and her friend inside and closed the door behind them.
Chrissy glowed, her strawberry-blonde hair framing her face like a cover girl on a magazine.
The silence hung thick between them, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Eddie sprang to his feet.
“Chrissy.” Eddie choked out. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she squeaked back.
Jeff broke the tension. “Chrissy, are you going to introduce us to your friend?”
“Right,” Chrissy shook her head as if in a daze. “Guys, this is my roommate, Stacey.”
Stacey waved behind her, her enthusiasm jingling the upwards of ten bracelets she wore on each arm. “Stacey, this is Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Stacey gushed, twirling one of her braids. “I’m a huge fan.“
“Any friend of Chrissy’s is a friend of ours,” Grant said as he shook her hand.
The room settled back into silence. Eddie studied Chrissy like a starving man at a feast, drinking in every last drop of her before she inevitably told him to go to hell.
Gareth slapped his knees and rose from the couch. “Stacey, how would you like to see the stage?”
“I would be honored,” Stacey tipped her head in a mock bow.
“Fantastic!” Gareth grinned. “Jeff and Grant, let’s give Stacey the full tour.”
Grant put down his water as he got up to leave.
“Shouldn’t you guys stay here so the crew can find us?” Eddie asked, fiddling with the edge of his flannel.
“It’ll be fine,” Jeff said through gritted teeth. “We’ll just let Rodney know what we’re doing.” He mouthed, “Talk to her!” while he filed out of the room, leading Gareth, Grant, and Stacey toward the stage.
As she left, Stacey turned back, gave him two thumbs up and winked.
“Have fun!” Chrissy called out to her without looking away, the foreboding poster still dangling from her fingers. Eddie gulped.
When the door clicked closed and they were alone, Eddie rubbed the back of his head, “Chrissy, I—“
“I read the interview—“ Chrissy interrupted him softly, “—in Rolling Stone.”
“Oh,” the color drained from Eddie’s cheeks. “You saw that. You weren’t supposed to see it until I could tell you myself.”
He crossed the room and grabbed her shoulders.
“Look, pretend I never said anything,” Eddie pleaded as her bright eyes filled with tears. “We can go back to the way it was.”
Chrissy shook her head. “Eddie, I don’t think I can.” Her voice wavered.
“No, no,” Eddie stepped back. “Please don’t, Chrissy. I can’t lose—“
The door to the Green Room slammed open.
“Five minutes to your set, Mr. Munson,” the PA said, not even bothering to glance up from his clipboard.
“Coming,” Eddie called as the PA walked away. He turned back to Chrissy but avoided her tearful gaze. “I’ve got to go.” He shouldered past her, continuing, “If you want, you can watch us from the wings. I’m sure the guys already dropped Stacey off. It’s a really great view and—“
“Edward Munson, would you stop talking for once!” Chrisy seethed.
Eddie whirled around in the cinderblock hallway, already halfway toward the stage. Chrissy stood in the green room door, tightly clenching her poster. An angry flush bloomed across her cheeks and bled down her neck into her blue sweater.
Eddie put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t forget,” Chrissy’s voice quivered, “because . . . because . . . Oh, gosh darn it!”
Eddie reeled back as Chrissy hurled her poster aside and flung herself into his arms. On instinct, he reached his arms around her waist to steady her as she cradled his head, pulling him closer. She jammed their lips together, and in an instant, every anxiety about the upcoming concert vanished.
The world slowed to a standstill around them.
She tasted like strawberries.
Chrissy pulled back with a lazy grin, holding onto the collar of Eddie’s jacket. “I would have said yes if you asked.” Her skin was warm where his hands crept under her sweater. “So now I’m asking you: will you go out with me?”
“What?” Eddie blinked.
“Mr. Munson, you’re needed on stage,” the PA tapped his shoulder, pulling him out of the daze.
“Right,” he grabbed Chrissy by the wrist and dragged her to where Stacey and the rest of the band waited in the wings just out of sight of the crowd.
Depositing her next to her roommate, Eddie fiddled with the hem of her sweater.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Chrissy bristled. “Absolutely.”
“Just had to be sure,” Eddie smirked as he leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips.
Stacey squealed as the rest of the band gasped. Eddied gave them the finger as he pulled back.
“Yes, Chrissy, I will go out with you,” he answered as the lights dimmed over the crowd and their intro music blared through the speaker system. The crowd roared in applause, chanting “Corroded Coffin” in time to the beat.
Chrissy melted, stars in her eyes as she watched him go.
“I’ll even be your man forever if you like,” Eddie shouted back to her as he backed away.
Giddy, Eddie jogged onto the stage behind his bandmates and assumed his position in front of his microphone downstage left as Jeff approached the mike center stage.
Grabbing his beloved red guitar off the stand, Eddie slung it over his back.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Chrissy in the wings, who blew him a kiss. Beside her, Stacey looked like she was about to faint.
Eddie tinkered with the frets on his guitar.
The backing music cut out. Gareth counted them in on drums as the spot came up on Grant. With precise fingers, he picked out the opening to “Unworthy”.
Eddie tapped his foot, waiting for his turn. In eight bars, he would come in with his signature riff.
He took one last look at Chrissy. She clasped her hands tight.
Eddie winked at her before ripping into his opening chord. The sound reverberated through the stadium as the spotlight above him blasted on, a blindingly hot beam of white light. Eddie closed his eyes. He glided across the strings, plucking out a melodious cacophony.
When he finished his riff, he opened his eyes and glanced at the crowd. They watched the band with rapt attention. Eddie settled into his element.
Jeff stepped up to the mike as the last spotlight blared on. The crowd was putty in his hands.
“We’re Corroded Coffin!” Jeff shouted. “Let’s get ready to rock!”
_____
“Thanks for being such a great crowd, Pittsburgh!” Jeff yelled into the mike. “We’ve got a couple more songs for you all, but I’m going to pass the mike over to Eddie to introduce this next song.”
Eddie glanced between Jeff and the audience without missing a beat.
Jeff nodded toward Chrissy, waiting for him in the wings.
She gave him two thumbs up and mouthed, “You got this!”
Eddie smiled and turned back to the booming crowd. The stage lights beat down on him—he could barely make out any faces beyond the first row.
“Hey, everyone,” he waved. “ I’m Eddie.”
The crowd roared.
“I love you, Eddie!” one guy screamed.
“Thank you,” Eddie joked, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m touched.” He leaned his bare arm on the neck of his guitar. He’d lost the jacket and the flannel somewhere halfway through their set, when he was singing lead on their cover of "11th Street Kids". “So funny story about this next song . . . And every love song that I’ve ever written. They’re all about my best friend—“ A cheer rose from the crowd as Eddie vamped the opening of the next song. “If you read our interview in Rolling Stone, I admitted I’ve been in love with her for years, and I never told her, even though she’s gotten demos of every song I’ve ever written.” He paused for dramatic effect—the crowd waited with bated breath. A rivulet of sweat darted between his shoulders. “She hasn’t heard this song before.” He winked; the crowd screamed. He plucked the strings with a gentle touch. “Whenever I’m in her presence, I am but a humble court jester devoted to a beautiful, unattainable princess, unworthy of her attention, only desiring to hear that melodious laugh for one more time.” Eddie sighed pathetically. “That’s all I thought I would ever be, her court jester.”
He waited again, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. He smirked.
“But apparently, I was wrong. She’s here tonight, and she just asked me out!”
Cheers and whoops rose from the crowd.
“I said yes, of course.” Eddie winked. “Guess I’ll have to come up with some new material for the next album.”
The crowd laughed.
Eddie picked up the tempo, queuing Grant on bass and Gareth on drums. The rhythm coursed through him like lightning as the lights flashed and smoke rose from the floor. It was a good thing they had been practicing to start playing this song after the Indianapolis show next year.
“This song is called ‘The Princess and the Jester’.” He glanced at the wings. Half in shadow and flushed with excitement, Chrissy bounced along to the song.
They locked eyes as time seemed to slow down. Eddie kept the rhythm but couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Chrissy, this one’s for you.”
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afternoonsociety · 2 years
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🦇imagine sitting with eddie together in his van at night and listening to the mixtapes he made for you while talking about the meaning of life🦇
// feel free to reblog //
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steddielations · 5 months
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Eddie stumbles into his queer awakening because he starts obsessing over why none of the girls Steve hooks up with actually want to date him. Eddie doesn’t even know what "perfect boyfriend material" is, but he knows it’s Steve.
Steve is confident but not full of himself like Eddie once thought. He’s romance novel level protective. Girls love that shit right? And he surprisingly has a goofy side, a sassy one too, and it’s all wrapped in charm that makes it work.
Sometimes Eddie even feels like Steve is flirting with him… Smiling at him when he comes to the video store, leaning over the counter close to him, looking at his lips even when he’s not talking. 
It flusters Eddie, makes his heart beat funny and puts a strange warmth in his stomach. The way he imagines any girl in Steve’s beamer feels when he kisses her while some radio love song plays, but Eddie assumes Steve has that effect on everyone. Right? Eddie doesn’t get a lot of attention like that, he can never tell when he has a crush or he’s just happy a girl gave him a look that wasn’t annoyed.
Then once, Eddie’s renting a movie and Steve asks to join him later, but he frames it like he’s asking Eddie on a date, giving Eddie that look that makes his stomach flutter and Eddie just can’t take it anymore.
Eddie blurts out, “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”
It hits him all at once as soon as it leaves his mouth. 
Oh.
Part 2
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Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
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tangerinesteve · 7 months
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"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.
Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.
"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.
"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.
"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.
"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.
"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.
"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.
"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.
"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.
"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,
"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".
"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.
"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.
"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.
"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.
"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.
"Yeah?"
"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.
"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.
Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.
~*~
Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.
"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.
"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.
"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.
"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.
Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.
"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.
Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.
He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.
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hbyrde36 · 2 months
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I thought I'd pop this in it's own post because I think @penny00dreadful's artwork needs to be seen by as many eyeballs as possible. Sam, thank you so much for this absolute GIFT. I still kinda can't believe that you created not one, but TWO pieces of art for this fic, and that it means as much to you as it does to me. 💜💜💜
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Art by @penny00dreadful
Scene from Ch3 Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)
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He suddenly felt exhausted, raw. These last twenty minutes or so in the bathroom had been his first opportunity to really slow down and process what he’d been through to get to this point. 
He closed his eyes and leaned forward resting his head in his hands, careful of his injuries, as he started to spiral.
The worst part of it all was the absolute certainty that he could still mess this up. Even if the others believed him, there was no guarantee that any of it would change the final outcome. He only knew his own path after all. He had no idea what had happened to the others—Steve, Robin, and Nancy; Max, and the Sinclairs; the group in California that they could never seem to get hold of but were pretty sure had been affected as well. 
Then there was the wild card. 
In saving Chrissy, Eddie had snatched one of Vecna’s victims right out from under his nose. Would he keep gunning for her, or would he set his sights elsewhere? Had saving one person only doomed another in her place?
Eddie’s heart raced along with his thoughts, his pulse pounding loudly inside his own head. Suddenly he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. 
“You okay?” Steve asked.
It snapped him back to the present. 
“Nah man,” Eddie managed out between rapid shallow breaths. “I’m pretty goddamn far from okay.” 
He felt more than saw Steve crouch down in front of him, his broad hands wrapping around Eddie’s, prying them away from his face.
“Hey, you’re okay.” Steve said softly, still holding his hands, squeezing in a way that felt… grounding. 
“You’re okay, you’re safe,” he continued. “Eddie, can you look at me?”
Eddie forced himself to open his eyes and found Steve staring back at him, his own eyes full of concern. 
“Try and take some slow deep breaths with me.”
Steve took several exaggerated breaths and Eddie did his best to mimic him, taking as much air as he could into his lungs before blowing it out as slowly as he could manage, repeating the process over and over until his heart didn’t feel like it was trying to escape his chest anymore. 
Eddie shook his head. “This whole thing is so fucked, Steve.” He said, letting out a painful hiccupping sob as tears fell freely down his face. He was acutely aware that the other boy had no idea what he was talking about and probably thought he’d lost his mind, but he couldn’t seem to stop.  
“I mean… I have no idea what I’m doing.” He continued, voice quivering. 
“Why did it have to be me?”
“Hey shhh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright.” Steve said, rubbing a thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand in soothing circles.
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steddiewithachance · 1 year
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"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
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arstyrannus · 2 years
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He just wants a ride to the arcade
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morganski-19 · 25 days
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Eddie was still in the coma, attached to so many tubes it made Wayne sick to look at sometimes. But they were keeping him alive, so he’ll manage. They were making sure he got to see his boy awake again.
There was still a metal cuff that was attached to his wrist. The other end attached to the bar of the hospital bed. As if he could spring up at any moment and just escape. When he’s been half dead for days. When Wayne hasn’t seen his eyes open since before Eddie went into hiding. 
He hasn’t seen his boy for over a full week. Even though he’s been lying there on the bed for the last few days. Eddie won’t be back with Wayne until he wakes up. If he wakes up.
Everyday Wayne’s been here in between his shifts. Can’t afford to take the days off, with having to get a new place and all. Part of his paycheck’s paying for the hotel room he’s staying in while trying to find somewhere new to live. Even the abandoned houses are too pricy, and the trailer park’s in shambles. 
Honestly, if he could, he’d be pulling as many doubles as possible just to get a new place and soon. But that would mean not being here. Might miss when he wakes up. Wayne doesn’t want to miss that. 
It’s not like he’s lonely here either. There’s been other visitors. The kid that Eddie always talked about from his dungeon game. The one that he secretly liked above the rest of the freshmen. His bandmates came by once, looking guilty as hell when they did. They haven’t been back since. 
There’s been a few other people Wayne hasn’t recognized. A few more kids from the club, some he didn’t even know Eddie knew. But they always came to check in before heading across the hall to see the boy there. The Harrington boy. 
Wayne recognized it was him one day when the door was left open. He was asleep, with an IV in his arm along with some other cords. Not as many as his boy, but still there. There was a girl in there too, short brown hair and wearing a baggy jacket with some patches. She was holding his hand. It never seemed like she let it go. 
The same girl checked in on Eddie a few times. Tried to make small talk with Wayne but left when she realized he was disinterested. Always heading back to the Harrington boy. 
All he knew is that they both came in at the same time. Got admitted one after the other, but Wayne didn’t know what order. That they both had to go through some type of surgery to deal with the injuries. Though he hears Harrington’s was more cosmetic than anything. Eddie’s was to save his life. 
Not that he’s judging. People could do whatever they wanted for all he cared. There were different doctor’s for different things. Priorities and all that. He just hoped that Harringotn wasn’t higher up on the list than Eddie was. Eddie was clearly the one in the worst condition. 
The kid that kept visiting Eddie went over there a lot too. Dustin, is the kid’s name. Wayne can’t remember it half the time, he’s too busy focusing on something else. And just bone tired. But after Dustin sits next to Wayne for a while, updates Eddie on everything that’s happened that day, sometimes reads to him, he heads right across the hall and does it all again. Every single time. 
Wayne has no clue how this boy could possibly be close with both Eddie and the Harrington kid. It’s not like they were in the same circles. Or seemed to remotely like each other at all. Wayne can explicitly remember the Harrington boy being apart of one of Eddie’s hate filled rampages. But if he’s remembering right, there was something different that really pissed Eddie off about him. Something that’s wrapped up in the same reason Wayne’s never seen Eddie bring a girl home. 
But day after day, Dustin goes to Steve’s room after stopping by Eddie. Wayne can see why Eddie liked Dustin. He’s loud and dramatic just like Eddie. Likes the same game, same books, even starting to like the same music. But Dustin and the Harrington boy. He doesn’t get it. 
Until he’s walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee and hears it. The bickering that leads into laughter. Snippy comments about something filled with inside jokes. Suddenly it all makes sense. They almost seem like brothers. 
It’s a few more days until Wayne meets the Harrington boy himself. A nurse coming to check Eddie’s vitals leaves the door open on accident. Harrington peaks through when he’s on a walk down the hallway. 
“Why is he handcuffed?” is the first thing Wayne hears from the kid. Voice filled with anger. 
Before Wayne can get annoyed at explaining the whole situation to another stranger, explain how he knows his boy is innocent, the nurse is yelling at him. 
“You can’t be in here, sir.”
“I don’t give a shit. Why is he handcuffed? He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Wayne is surprised that he’s not the one making the case this time. Somehow, this kid he’s never met believes his nephew is innocent. Just like he does. 
The nurse snaps her folder shut, walking up to Steve and waving for help through the door. “That is private information. Go back to your room before you’re forced to.”
Steve rolls his eyes with a snarl, undoing the buttons on the front of his hospital shirt. “He didn’t give me these. He didn’t kill those kids. I know, I was there.” He begins to pull back the bandages, revealing scarred, mauled skin that looks just like Eddies. The nurse scolds him to stop. “He’s innocent, so why is he handcuffed to the bed?”
“He is still a suspect and deemed dangerous. Now get back to your room.”
More another nurse grabs Steve’s arm to try and pull him to his room. He shakes it off. 
“Dangerous,” his voice raises. “He’s been in a coma for days and you think he’s dangerous. What is he going to do, pop up out of bed like he hasn’t been fucking asleep for days and almost died just to run away? He couldn’t do that if he tried.”
Security gets involved now, physically pushing Steve out of the doorway. The nurse shuts the door to Eddie’s room, cutting Wayne off from seeing it. She apoligized for the intrusion and gets back to checking on Eddie. 
“He’s right, you know,” Wayne says, still hearing the noise from the hall. “My boy didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Can’t escape even if he tried. Or attack anyone for that matter. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need to wake up to a cuff around his wrist.”
The nurse purses her lips, strained. “This is from above me, sir. But if the news is true, the cuffs are staying on.”
When the nurse opens the door again, the hall is clear. 
The next time Wayne sees Harrington is when he leaves for the day. Only able to fall asleep so many times in a shitty hospital chair before needing to go home. Security presses for him to stay in his room, warning him. 
“Just going to make a fucking phone call. I’m allowed to do that right?” When the security guard crosses his arms, the kid hits him with, “Don’t want me to get my dad involved, do you? Isn’t he one of the main donors for this hospital? Be such a shame if he stopped.”
Wayne almost laughs when the security guard moves out of the way. Harrington giving him the finger with a smirk as he walks down the hall to the payphone. 
Maybe Eddie and the Harrington kid had more in common than Wayne thought. 
now with a part 2
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