#pre relationship steddie
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Odds Are
Based on this post or Eddie gets his hand stuck in the Family Video return slot… and Steve finds him.
read on ao3 • rated T • cw: mention of injuries
Slamming his van door, he hurried through the parking lot towards Family Video. He knew they were probably closed but he needed to return his rental. Eddie was very high, but not as high as his late fees.
Getting to the front, he yanked hard on the obviously locked door.
“Fuck!” He looked around, remembering Wayne saying something about an after hours returns slot.
Finally locating it on the side of the building, he peered at it, crouching down to see how it worked. It was just a metal flap that opened into the building. He frowned. Was there a soft landing for the tapes? A pillow? What if the tape got damaged and they charged him for it even if it wasn’t his fault since he was just using their shoddily designed returns slot? He couldn’t afford to replace this tape. He was here because he couldn’t afford another dollar late fee.
Stomping around the parking lot, he couldn’t decide what to do.
He pulled his trusty D20 from his vest. Crouching down again by the wall, he rolled. A three. Well. That wasn’t hopeful.
Deciding he could hold the tape and try to get it as close to the floor as possible, to lessen the chances of breaking the case or tape, he rolled again. Fourteen. Good enough for him. He wrapped his hand around the tape and slid his hand through the slot, leaning in with his shoulder so most of his arm was through, and he finally let go when he couldn’t push inward anymore.
Grinning when he heard a soft sound from the other side, he pulled his arm back. But then winced when it didn’t come out.
“Fuck!” His rings were caught on the other side.
Wiggling his fingers and yanking his arm back did nothing but send sharp pains through this hand. Clenching his jaw, he decided he had to stop. He couldn’t lose his fingers. He needed them to play his guitar and D&D and there’s no way he could jerk off left handed now, it would be miserable.
Settling back on his heels, he craned his neck and looked around. Every other building he could see was dark. There were no cars in any of their lots and of course no one else was out at this time of night. Wayne was at work. He wouldn’t miss him until tomorrow.
He felt his chest clench with panic as he realized he was stuck here forever.
Or at least until someone came to Family Video.
“Am I going to be stuck here until morning?” He whispered to the D20. He closed his eyes and rolled.
Cracking one eye open, he checked. A fifteen.
“Fuck!”
Managing to get into a somewhat comfortable position with his legs under him but not yanking on his fingers, he leaned against the side of the building with a sigh. At least it wasn’t raining. His eyes widened and he looked up at the sky suspiciously.
“Is it going to rain?” A four. He sighed again in relief.
Scouring his pockets one handed for things to entertain himself, he somehow managed to not die of boredom over the next few hours.
Something jolted him awake, and air pushed out of the return slot at him. Someone must have unlocked the front door. Before he could decide what to do, he heard a ‘holy shit’ from inside.
“Woah man, uh, are you okay?” Steve fucking Harrington was suddenly standing beside him. Could this day get any worse?
“Yeah, just um, returning my rental. Making sure it got here safely. Your death trap here is a little much, don’t you think?”
Steve blinked, eyebrows coming together for a second before he smiled and held back a laugh. Eddie bristled. “Usually people don’t stick their entire arm into it. Oh! Let me go, uh, get you out. Sorry, I just saw a hand and freaked out. Stay there!”
“As if I could run away, asshole,” he grumbled.
There was an odd sensation of pressure on his hand yet everything was numb.
“Don’t go anywhere, come inside and let me make sure you're okay.” Steve was talking to him through the open metal door, after releasing his hand.
He slipped his arm out and may have let out a very manly scream when he saw his hand. It was nearly blue and his fingers were swollen.
Finding himself in the back room of Family Video with Steve Harrington fussing over him hadn’t even been a blip on his radar of how this day could’ve turned out.
“Keep it below your heart, so the blood flow can get back to it, you know, easier. I think it’ll be okay. Once it’s not blue we can do an ice pack for the swelling.”
Eddie peered up at him. “They giving out medical degrees at Family Video now?”
Steve anxiously grabbed the back of his neck and looked around, “No, but I’ve, uh, gotten myself injured a lot recently. So-“
“I’ve got a lot of personal experience being a human punching bag, myself, actually,” he snorted. He’d heard about the Byers thing, and the fight with Billy.
Steve groaned but he got to watch the blush rise on his cheeks, bringing out his freckles. Oh.
He decided to try to hurry this along, shaking his hand around and flexing his fingers to try to get feeling to them. However, the feeling that came back first was pain.
“Ow, oh fuck,” he hissed.
“Time for ice, then,” Steve suggested.
He watched him open a small refrigerator in the corner and pull out a soft sided ice pack, wrap it in a towel and bring it to him. He looked embarrassed for some reason, and shrugged a shoulder when he helped settle the bundle in his open hand.
“I get migraines. Since- well, for a bit. So. The ice pack helps sometimes. If I catch them right.”
Eddie watched him closely as he rambled. “You’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.” The words tumbled out as they usually did, without much thought.
“Oh yeah?” His eyebrows shot up adorably.
He was really enjoying this attention from this new and improved Harrington. He sunk back further into the couch, easing his sore hand back. “Yeah. Why are you being so nice to me? This isn’t very King Steve of you.”
Steve winced and he instantly wanted to take it back. But he shrugged, throwing his entire body into it. “Im not him anymore. I’m trying, really trying, to do better. Robin helped a lot.”
Eddie frowned. The only Robin he knew was, “Robin Buckley?”
Steve’s demeanor changed completely, excited and almost bouncing on his toes to explain, “Yeah. She’s awesome. We’re best friends. She got me this job basically. After the whole Starcourt thing,” Eddie watched his face close off at that, “we, uh, we’re really close.”
He felt like his entire world shifted on its axis. Sure, he’d seen them at the mall at Scoops and he knew they both worked here, but… best friends? He was also pretty sure Robin Buckley was gay. Did he know? Was he okay with that? Would he be okay if he knew he-
“Holy shit,” he covered his face with his other hand and the ice pack dropped to the ground. This was too much.
“Are you okay? Are you gunna hurl? Eddie?”
“I’m okay, I’m just…” He shook his head again, rubbing across his face. When he looked back at Steve, he found him crouched in front of him, inches away really, holding out the ice pack for him. “Thanks,” he breathed. He wanted to trace his finger over the freckles and moles and scars across his cheeks and down his neck.
“Anytime.”
After Steve deemed his fingers safe from danger, he unfortunately really had to leave. Steve held the front door open for him, a cute little smile on his face.
Throwing his van door open, he stopped and looked back into the video store. Steve was standing behind the counter now, and raised his hand to wave at him. He waved back, dazed.
Patting his pockets, he found his D20.
“Do I have even a microscopic chance?”
He cupped his hands around the die and shook it, letting it drop into the seat. A nat fucking twenty. He blinked. He had to get to school. But he was hours late already.
Leaving the door hanging open, he ran back inside.
“Hey, uh, Harrington, you ever been to The Hideout?”
@spdrgwen @eddiethehunted @callmeloverr
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things fic#mine#Steve/eddie#pre relationship steddie#steddie fic
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Preview
@steddiemicrofic
written for ‘Pine’ | wc: 508 | rated: T
Kind of a time travel fic, kind of a future fic. Established relationship, but also not. With a whiff of mutual pining.
Eddie is cold. He’s so fucking cold, clutched in Henderson’s arms.
And then he isn’t.
He’s hot, dripping sweat instead of blood. Standing, feet aching like he’s been on them all day. Everything is light and heat and noise, the clanging of metal and the sizzle and smell of things cooking, people bustling. He sways on his feet, and—
“You okay, chef?”
It’s too much. Eddie’s eyes roll back, gone before he even falls.
He wakes in a soft bed, softer than he’s ever felt in his entire life. It smells of pine-scented laundry detergent, weed smoke, and comfort.
“Eds?” Steve Harrington leans over him with concern and relief in his eyes, and something warm that chases the last of the cold from Eddie’s blood. He’s clasping Eddie’s hand in both of his.
Something’s off, though. Steve looks . . . older. And damn good in glasses, but since when did Steve Harrington need glasses?
“You passed out at work, babe.”
Babe.
Babe.
“King Steve holding my hand,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m either dreaming or dead.”
“. . . Oh.” Steve’s grip tightens, reminding Eddie that, oh yeah, he can hear him. Maybe not a dream, if he doesn’t get to have his privacy when thinking out loud. “Okay, so this is happening. Uh. . . . What year do you think it is?”
Eddie frowns. It’s 1986, but. . . . When he looks down at himself there are scars and unfamiliar tattoos and, weirdly, a distinct lack of one nipple on his own chest. Why is he shirtless?
His silence seems answer enough, because Steve nods. “Okay. You told me this was going to happen, just weren’t sure when. The last thing you remember is the Upside Down, right? Bats?”
The bats. Eddie shudders with his entire body.
“Okay,” Steve says again, smoothing his thumbs over the knuckles and palm of Eddie’s hand. “You’re going to be fine, Eds. This is just a blip.” He offers an awkward smile. “But you’re going to go back, and it’s going to really hurt for a while but you’re going to be fine. Just do your stretches, I remember how much you hated that shit but it’s important.”
Eddie can’t wrap his head around what Steve is saying. His voice is small when he asks, “Will I still be able to play?”
The smile firms up, genuine. “Yeah. Not quite as good as before, we all know how important your left nipple was for that, but. You have guitars all over the damn place, really clutters up our apartment.”
“Our?” Eddie croaks.
Another squeeze of his hand. “Yeah. Don’t leave me hanging too long when you get back, okay?”
He wants to ask more, but sleep is tugging at him and the bed is so soft.
He wakes up in a hospital bed, and the Steve Harrington he knows is asleep in the visitor’s chair, hand on the sheet next to Eddie’s.
And Eddie, not wanting to leave him hanging, breathes through the pain as he reaches to hold it.
(also on Ao3)
#steddiemicroficdecember#steddie microfic#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#pre relationship steddie#established relationship steddie#eddie munson lives#eddie munson's missing nipple#i had to cut some details for word count but:#future eddie is a chef waiting on his next michelin star#which is why everyone assumed he'd passed out; he was being a stress case about the whole thing#(but he does get it. passing out notwithstanding.)#future steve is a physical therapist#which he originally got into specifically because of eddie bitching about his stretches all the time#(he gives THE best massages and he IS incredibly smug about that fact. completely insufferable.)
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Pre-relationship Steddie. Eddie likes to whisper random facts in Steve's ear, working up the courage to whisper the truest fact of all for Eddie until finally he does.
"Steve Harrington is beautiful every single, goddamn day, and that's a fact."
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#pre relationship steddie#steddie edit#rueleigh edits#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi
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Steve had developed a habit of calling Robin at horrid hours of the night. He’d wake up from a bad dream, screaming in a cold sweat, and he’d dial her number and make her talk about her day, or a movie she liked, or literally anything because it took his mind away from everything bad and calmed him down. He always made her say goodnight. And then, when Robin had bad dreams, she’d call Steve too, and he’d do the same for her. One night, a couple of months ago, Steve got a call in the middle of the night. He knew it was Robin, who else would call at this time of night? When he answered all he heard was heavy breathing, and it made him sit up straight in bed, reaching for the bat he kept at his side every night.
“Hello?”
More heavy breathing, and then a sniffle, and then a sob, “Steve?”
“E-“ Steve scratched his head, releasing the bat from his grip, “Eddie?”
“I didn’t want to wake you, I just…” He sniffled again.
“Are you crying?” Steve leant back against his headboard.
“I can’t sleep.”
Steve nodded, “Okay…”
“Have you ever… do you get bad dreams, Stevie?”
Steve sighed, shoulders relaxing as he took a breath, “Yeah. All the time, man.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I mean- sorry. Not good. Just… I’m glad i’m not going insane over here.” Eddie forced a laugh, but Steve didn’t laugh back, “I had a really bad one. And I usually wake Wayne if they’re this bad, but he’s started working nights again-“
“It’s okay, Eddie.” Steve smiled, “What do you need?”
“I don’t know.” There was a little silence, “What do you do when you have bad dreams?”
“Ah, I call Robin. Make her talk about random shit. Takes my mind off it.”
Eddie nodded, “Can you… is that weird if I ask you to do that?”
“Of course not.” Steve smiled, “We’re friends, man.”
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the rising lump in his throat.
“Are you laying down in bed? Comfy?”
“Yeah, as comfy as my shitty mattress can be.” Eddie giggled.
Steve smiled, “Well… what did you want me to talk about?”
“Uhm… talk about something boring. Send me to sleep faster.”
“What do you count as boring?”
Eddie hummed for a moment, “Jocks.”
“Asshole.” Steve scoffed, but they were both laughing.
“No… you, you know a lot about flowers. Talk about that. I don’t care about flowers.”
“Okay… uhm, flowers. I know about them because my nanny for like, seven years loved flora, talked about it all the time.”
Steve continued to talk, and Eddie fell asleep peacefully, mind blank. And Steve definitely didn’t stay on the line for an extra hour listening to Eddie snore, roll around, and mumble random shit in his sleep. And he definitely didn’t hear Eddie mumble his name a couple of times.
It sort of became a habit for Eddie now too. He’d call up Steve when he couldn’t sleep and Steve would make it all better. It made Eddie feel so warm. Robin tried to call one night when Eddie was on the line, Steve didn’t realise. She ended up calling Nancy instead, and Nancy helped her just like Steve did. When they talked the next day, Steve apologised profusely, but Robin didn’t care. She had talked to Nancy almost all night and got to listen to her pretty voice talk about this piece she was working on to submit to a big paper in hopes of getting a job. Robin slept soundly after that, only wishing she could still hear Nancy talk. Robin started calling Nancy more often, and vide versa. So, one night when Steve had a horrible dream and couldn’t get through to Robin, he called for Eddie.
“Of course, Steve. You do this for me all the time, why wouldn’t I wanna do it for you?” Eddie scoffed, “Any topics you find boring? I could talk about flowers if you wanted, know enough about the topic now.”
Steve giggled, “How about you talk about… Garfield? You’ve got half the comic strips memorised, right? Recite them all to me?”
“Okay, prepare yourself Stevie. Things are about to get intense.”
And so calling Eddie and Nancy became a habit for them too. And eventually everyone was just calling anyone they could get a hold of, the four of them always teaching themselves new stories or random pieces of knowledge, or memorising television episodes or song lyrics so there would always be something to talk about if another needed it. They relied on each other. And then Nancy and Robin got together, and the calls to Steve and Eddie hardly happened. They slept beside one another most nights, they didn’t need a phone call if they had a bad dream. Steve has his worst dream in months, and he knows Robin and Nancy are out tonight, down at some bar for their one month anniversary. So Steve calls Eddie.
“Your worst one?” Eddie rubbed his face, he was so tired.
“Yeah.” He shuffled, tears soaking his face, “Really need your help, Ed’s.”
“You know Wayne’s been getting on my back about the phone bill.” He sighed, “And I’m so tired, I don’t trust myself to hang up before morning.”
“I’m- I’m sorry. I’ll just- I’ll put on some music or some-“
“No.” Eddie shook his head, “I’ll just come over? Yeah?”
That made Steve’s heart skip, “You don’t have too. I’ll be okay-“
“Steve. It’s my job to help you with your bad dreams. I’ll be there in ten. Stay calm.”
“Eddie you don’t-“
But Eddie was already pulling his shorts back on, and a baggy shirt and his sneakers and was heading for the door. Steve sat in bed, too scared to move, the dark watching him. Waiting to pounce. He bunched his knees up to his chest. He heard a sound echo from downstairs. It terrified him even more, he froze. He heard a heavy thud work it’s way through his house, up his stairs, creeping closer and closer. Steve reached for his bat. He thought he was gonna die. Then his bedroom door, that he never fully closes, was being pushed open and he was ready to swing. But then in sauntered Eddie, hair a messy, eyes droopy and closing, and he was yawing. He tossed his keys onto Steve’s desk and toeing off his shoes, walking to the bed. Steve was suddenly vary aware of the fact he was wearing only his boxers and socks. Eddie didn’t say a word when he saw the state Steve was in, he just grabbed the bat out of his hand and placed it on the floor before shooing Steve over and sitting down under the covers beside him. They had never done this before. Soothed their bad dreams face to face, it was always over the phone. They never had a sleepover, and they definitely haven’t shared a bed. But Eddie was too tired to care, or be nervous, and Steve was too scared. Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve, pulling them both down until their heads were on Steve’s soft pillows and they were sinking down into his perfect mattress. Eddie groaned.
“Can I sleep here every night, man?” Eddie smiled, eyes closed and face smushed into the pillow. His voice was raspy from the sleep and it made butterflies erupt in Steve’s stomach, “Such a nice bed.”
“Not if it means I get your shitty mattress in return.”
“Fine. We can just share. Wayne’s making me pay for the phone bill now, so it will save me.” They both laughed.
“You didn’t have to come here, Eddie.”
“It was all just a rouse to get in your bed, Stevie. I’ve won.” He grinned, and Steve shoved his shoulder half heartedly. Eddie sighed, “What was your dream about?”
They didn’t ask that… ever, “Uhm… I was drowning again. And as I was drowning I was watching you die, your limbs being torn off and eaten, and I just kept falling further and further away from you and you were screaming at me to help you.”
There was a long silence. Steve wasn’t sure if he’d scared Eddie off, or if he’d just fallen asleep. Eddie sighed deeply, “I’m not dying, Steve. You did save me, remember? You carried me outta there.”
“Still… it’s-“
“Scary. I know.” Eddie hummed, “But I’m here, okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
You better not. Steve snuggled closer into Eddie, “Do your scars hurt sometimes?”
“Sometimes. Yours do too?”
“Hmm.”
“I’m glad I’m not alone, then.” Eddie smiled.
“Your never alone.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie looked at him, sitting up slightly, “Neither are you.”
Steve sat up too, bringing his knees back to his chest, “How are you so brave about it?”
“About what?” Eddie hummed, head tipping to the side.
“Your scars… how do you not hate them?”
Eddie sighed with a little shrug, “I’ll tell you a secret… I sorta do. They remind me of… everything. But they’re not something I’m ashamed off because they prove that I lived. So do yours.”
Steve shrugged, “They make me feel shit.”
“So do mine sometimes.”
“They make me feel ugly.” His eyes were wet as he looked at Eddie.
Eddie looked at him for a moment, his hand stretching out to smooth over Steve’s cheek, holding him at the back of his neck, “Your not ugly, Steve, your beautiful.”
Steve scoffed, “Am not.”
“You are.” Eddie pressed, “I promise, you are.”
Steve shrugged, laying back down. Eddie laid beside him, facing one another. Steve’s finger traced the neckline of Eddie’s shirt, and his necklace, and his collarbone that peaked out. Eddie lifted his hand slowly, tentatively, and traced his finger over Steve’s scars.
“These are beautiful. You are beautiful.”
Steve nodded, “Can you just talk me to sleep, please?”
“Yeah.” Eddie smiled, and started his story for the night, “Tonight, I’ll be telling you why Steve Harrington needs to stop putting himself down.”
“Eddie-“
“I’m serious.” Eddie a scoffed, looking away from Steve with a yawn, “First, he is gorgeous. One of the prettiest boys i’ve ever seen. Two, he’s so kind, and warm and has a brilliantly big heart. Three, he’s amazing at looking after the kids, would make an excellent dad one day. Four, he’s so smart, he makes me think on my toes all the time and teaches me about so many things, like flora and baking and sports, and how a turbo engine works. Five, he’s so soft. Six, he’s got the making of a Greek God. Seven, he’s not who he was in high school, he’s redeemed himself and more. Eight-“
“That’s enough.” Steve mumbled.
“Eight,” Eddie continued, adamant on proving his point, “Steve is brilliant at sports, specifically basketball and I love watching him play. Nine, he’s got a really comfy bed. Ten, he bakes the best brownies I’ve ever had. Eleven, he makes me think about my future. Twelve, Dustin does everything in his power to be just like him, because he admires him so fucking much. Thirteen, he puts others first… sometimes a little too much. Fourteen, he’s so easy to love. Fifteen-“
“You think I’m easy to love?” Steve opened his eyes, staring right into Eddie’s now, blown out all dark and glistening.
Eddie smiled, a faint whisper on his lips, “The easiest.”
Steve smiled, his insides bubbling, “You can sleep in my bed whenever you want, Eddie. As long as I can too.”
“Deal.” Eddie nodded, shuffling a little closer, “I’ve got some great luck tonight.”
Steve grinned, “Ed’s.”
“Yeah, Stevie?”
“I think your easy to love too.”
Eddie smiled fondly, cheeks turning pink, but unfortunately it was too dark for Steve to notice. Eddie brushed his nose against Steve’s, slow and calculated in his movements. Steve’s breath hitched, and then Eddie kissed him, and he melted. He pulled Eddie tighter and melted into his arms.
The only time Steve called anyone in the middle of the night now, was when Eddie was snoring obnoxiously loud beside him, and he needed Robins monologue about how adorable Nancy looked tonight to block it out.
#jay writes#steddie#steve x eddie#side ronance#steve and eddie confiding in eachother for their nightmares? please!#stranger things 4#stranger things#hurt#comfort#fluff#pre relationship steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve#eddie#stobin#steve & robin#steve & nancy if you squint#eddie & nancy if you squint too#nightmares
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It's Eddie's first year living with Wayne. When summer hits and the rich tourists descend upon the small lake town, Eddie keeps finding peach pits lying around town in weird spots. Bored to death and in desperate need of a distraction, he sets off to figure out who is behind the careless discarding of food scraps.
#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#fan fiction#my fanfic#mystery#pre relationship steddie#steddie#origin story
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Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.
Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.
Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.
The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.
A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.
"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."
The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."
He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.
This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.
They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.
He misses the shitheads.
No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.
Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.
It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.
It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.
Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.
In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.
"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.
"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."
"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."
He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.
She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."
Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"
"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.
Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"
Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.
Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"
"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."
"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."
Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."
"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"
Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.
"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"
"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."
The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.
Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”
Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”
“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.
Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”
“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”
“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.
Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”
Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”
He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.
Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.
Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”
Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”
Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”
The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.
It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.
part two!
#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room#one of them just got his license and im now even more worried#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#college au#pre relationship
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“What the hell is this?!”
The words startle Steve awake more effectively than his alarm ever managed and he flails a bit, almost falling off the couch until he recognises Dustin looming over him, hands on hips looking extremely unimpressed.
(Later Steve will have time to be fondly amused that the gesture came from him.)
“Henderson?” he asks, blinking up at the kid with bleary eyes. “Jesus, what time is it?”
“6:30,” Dustin informs him.
“In the morning?” he croaks.
“Yes, in the morning!” Dustin snaps. “What the hell is this Steve?”
Steve is still mostly asleep, he knows he looks like a mess and he also knows that he and Dustin did not have any sort of plans that would give him reason to be waking Steve up at six-fucking-thirty in the morning. So he says, “Sleep, Henderson. It’s sleep.”
Dustin does not look amused by this. “Do you always fall asleep on the couch with Eddie?”
Steve blinks up at Dustin, confused. “What? Eddie?”
Dustin gestures behind Steve and Steve, against his better judgement, turns his head to find that Eddie is in fact on the couch behind him. Turning put him face-to-face with the other man and Steve just sort of blinks in befuddlement before wondering aloud, “Jesus Christ how is he still asleep?” Because he genuinely has no idea how anyone could be sleeping through Dustin’s sheer volume.
“That’s all you have to say?” Dustin demands.
“It’s early,” Steve complains.
“You’re sleeping with Eddie!”
“Well i was,” Steve groaned, “right up until you started shouting. Why are you even here?”
“Sleeping. With. Eddie,” Dustin repeats in case it was lost on Steve the first time.
“It’s six thirty in the morning!” Steve points out. Again. What else was he supposed to be doing at that time of day?
“Sleeping with Eddie!” Dustin repeats like a bad record, needle skipping back and forth.
Steve is too tired for this. “Make sense or go away and come back in two hours.”
“Steve,” and Dustin sounds very serious now, “are you having sex with Eddie?”
“…no?” He squints at Dustin, a little concerned about the kid’s knowledge of sex if he’s asking that when Steve is lying fully clothed and half asleep next to an equally fully clothed and still asleep Eddie.
Dustin does not find this funny. “Then what the hell is this? Why are you cuddling on the couch?”
Relieved, Steve says, “Oh, you didn’t mean that literally.” Then he shrugs. “We must have fallen asleep down here.”
“You fell asleep cuddling on the couch?” Dustin’s voice is very dry.
“…i guess?” Steve doesn’t actually know how the cuddling came about - would he call it cuddling? - but he gets the feeling he should be more worried about what Dustin is insinuating than he is. Mostly because, “Seriously, why the hell are you here so early?”
“Apparently, to catch you and Eddie snuggling on the couch,” Dustin snipes. “Is this going to be a thing?”
Steve looks long and hard at Eddie, doesn’t let himself sink too deeply into the thoughts or the fears, just looks at him and then he says to Dustin, “Yeah, probably.”
Dustin’s outrage is not faked this time and it is loud enough to finally wake Eddie.
#july writing challenge#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington#dustin henderson#eddie munson#pre relationship#steddie#implied steddie
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Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.
Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.
Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.
For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.
Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”
Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—“ Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”
“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”
“I have so many questions.”
“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”
Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”
Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”
Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.
Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.
“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.
“Take it back?”
“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.
“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.
Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”
Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”
“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”
“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.
Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”
“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.
Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”
It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.
“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”
Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”
Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.
#steddie#this is silly but it got me through work#Eddie only has the upper ground for now#later Steve gets confident and it throws Eddie for a loop#they are both disasters#I need a fun name like fruity four but just when it’s the three of them#but in love#platonic soulmates stobin#bisexual steve harrington#gay Eddie Munson#ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#my writing#stranger things#pre relationship#fluff#lesbian bisexual solidarity#stobin#robin buckley#coming out
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Part Two
Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking.
There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees.
People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High.
This though? This was neither of those things.
No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet.
Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.
That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier.
Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either.
Except of course, for Eddie.
“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much.
(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.)
“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning.
A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him.
“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.
Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense.
And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass.
Even in his current, beaten to shit state.
Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless.
“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet.
Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard.
Particularly not by any invading jocks.
“What were you thinking!?” Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly. “You didn’t even talk to us first!”
“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form.
“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”
Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him.
He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly.
“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”
“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by.
“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.”
Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along.
It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face.
“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?”
Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”
“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.”
“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face.
As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation.
“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name.
“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.”
Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh.
“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper.
“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.”
“Flinching.” Gareth repeated.
“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.”
“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation.
“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.”
Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening.
The flinching.
Not going with his parents.
Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out.
It didn’t paint a pretty picture.
“Shit.” Gareth said finally.
Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”
Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table.
“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him.
“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard.
“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.
“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back.
“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup.
Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”
“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”
“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!”
Steve looked between them.
“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on.
“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.
For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face.
#hellfire adopts Steve#i just love the idea of steve being hellfires mean girl his senior year#like you cant look me in the eyes and tell me Eddie Munson wouldnt be argueing with himself constantly about#Sad Boy Hours Steve#steve harrington#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#0o0 fanfics#steve x eddie#pre relationship#i just wanna see them in school together dammit#gareth emerson#i love him so much
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“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”
Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.
They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.
“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.
“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”
“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”
“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”
“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.
“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”
“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”
“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.
“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”
“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.
“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”
“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.
“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”
“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”
“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.
“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”
“And that’s when you became best friends?”
“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”
“Platonic with a capital P?”
Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.
“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.
When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.
“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.
Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.
It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.
He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.
---
this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!
now with a part two! click here
#angeldreamsoffanfic#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfic#platonic stobin#background jargyle#background ronance#but it’s pre every relationship#steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs#robin would die for steve#steve harrington has bad parents#but jim hopper adopts him because i said so#steve and eleven have a sibling bond#he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way#this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think
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But It’s Devil’s Food, Of Course
@steddiemicrofic
written for ‘Cake’ | wc: 311 | rated: T for one F-bomb
A microfic as light and fluffy as angel food cake.
Once recovered, Eddie decides to bake a cake. It’s not like he has anything else to do while stashed in a government safe-house. Twiddling his thumbs until the murder charges go away has him bored out of his fucking mind.
He can get whatever he wants by writing it on a pad by the front door. (Within reason. Asking for certain people only gets him pictures . . . and one small plush likeness, probably a message to please stop asking.) So one day he asks for a cookbook; the next, he starts scribbling down ingredients.
Eddie once nearly set the trailer on fire trying to boil pasta. . . . Still, he’s pretty sure he can figure this out. With the fire extinguisher on standby, he puts Dio on as loud as it’ll go and begins.
-
A year later, Steve lets himself into his parents house after his last day at Family Video.
He moves out tomorrow, finally. Robin’s already in Indy, job hunting before undergraduate courses (courtesy of government hush money) begin.
And then? Then Steve will be free. He’ll be close enough to visit the kids, but otherwise he’s getting out of Hawkins with everything he could have ever wanted..
He’s thinking ‘Almost’ as he turns from re-locking the door. Then suddenly he’s thinking, Why's there a giant cake in the foyer? and Why does it say ‘Super belated thank you for carrying me out of hell’ on it?
The top of the cake lifts up, Eddie beaming beneath it. “Surprise, big boy!”
More people are shouting (things like ‘Surprise!’ and ‘Bon voyage!’). Including Robin, the sneak, who shouts, “And you thought the third bedroom would be for guests!”
The cake tastes perfect.
-
A month later, Eddie and his little plush Steve (“I tried asking for you, sweetheart”) move rooms, and they have that guest room after all.
#steddiemicroficaugust#steddie microfic#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#pre relationship steddie#eddie munson lives#eddie munson bakes
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The One with the Gossip
The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.
“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.
“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”
Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”
Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”
Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.
“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.
“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”
“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.
Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”
“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.
Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”
Everyone winces with disgust.
“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”
“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.
Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”
“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.
Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.
“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”
“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.
Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”
They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.
“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”
Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”
“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.
“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”
“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.
Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”
Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”
“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”
“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”
Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”
Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”
“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.
Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”
Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.
The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.
“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug
#this was inspiried by a tiktok I saw#where this woman was getting her matching tattoo with her mom removed because her mom was sleeping with her husband#which yikes#that must have been a messy divorce#also jonathan in a secret gossip I firmly believe that#morgan's friends au#stranger things#stranger things au#stranger things ficlet#friends au#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#pre relationships#steddie#ronance#jargyle
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whatever you do, don’t imagine eddie doing a running jump at steve’s back while he’s trying to talk to someone, and steve catching him in a piggyback without even breaking away from the conversation. then eddie starts to attack his neck with little nibbles while going “BITING you BITING you BITING you BITING you” over and over again until steve turns his head just enough to catch his lips with his own so eddie gets stopped mid sentence like “BITING you BIT—oh! kissing you! :D”
#they’re already in a relationship in my mind but you can make this pre-steddie too and it literally works the same#cause they’re both little freaks like that#steddie#steddie fluff#stranger things#stranger things s4#steve harrington#eddie munson#genderqueer steve harrington#appalachian eddie munson#<- those tags not directly related but always relevant and applicable on my posts
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based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other
🤍 also on ao3
The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesn’t really deserve. Steve’s hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.
He almost misses the bike where it’s lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesn’t quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe they’ll take a while. Something tells him there’s more to Will’s stunned silence and Mike’s sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steve’s after another successful Hellfire session.
With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time — ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesn’t move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelers’ house. He doesn’t acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this.
There’s a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead.
“What do you want,” he asks eventually, though it doesn’t have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort of… dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit.
“Just making sure you’re alright,” Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesn’t feel watched. Or seen, maybe.
Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. It’s never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels.
He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someone’s eyes for fear of what they would see.
“I’m alright,” Mike says, sounding anything but. There’s a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound that’s off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike.
So all he says, after a moment’s consideration, is, “Cool.” Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too.
He knows and he sees and he feels.
And suddenly he wants to say something he’s never said before, something he didn’t even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasn’t yet been ready to reclaim for himself.
And maybe it’s because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyone’s eyes except when it’s in challenge — and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Will’s eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when he’s not aware of it.
Maybe it’s because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesn’t come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath.
His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it — just to have something to hold onto.
He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They don’t know how, and he’s beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth.
Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mike’s eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, “I’m kind of dating Eddie Munson.”
And just like that, it’s out. He’s out.
He doesn’t know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves.
It’s both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve can’t quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts.
The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly it’s Steve who feels like he’s about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows.
“You… What?”
Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing.
But also, I’m in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And that’s okay. Both of that, it’s okay.
He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what it’s like to be spoken now. “Eddie. I’m kind of dating Eddie.”
“But…” It’s Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike who’s blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesn’t really dare to.
“But?” he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence.
“Eddie’s a boy.”
But Tammy Thompson is a girl.
“I know,” Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear what’s on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasn’t been treating that with care yet. But there’s something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny.
“And…” Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. “But you… You loved Nancy.”
Ah. Smart boy. “I did,” Steve says with a small smile. “And it was never a lie. But I found that… Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, y’know? And that’s, like, okay.”
A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, “It is?”
Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but it’s not as loaded this time, not as tense. It’s an invitation. An offering. A promise of I’m here, I’m with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world.
Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steve’s pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make.
“Y’know,” Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. “Lucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didn’t have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, because…”
Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say it’s okay, tell him it’s alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits.
“Because how could he say that, you know? How could he, when… Will wasn’t there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, but…”
He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know he’s not alone. To let Mike know he understands what he’s saying. He understands. “But she’s not Will. You needed Will.”
“But I shouldn’t!” Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. “And now he’s back and it should be fine, I shouldn’t be feeling like this, it doesn’t even make sense! How can I…”
Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost — completely and utterly. He’s seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, he’ll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. He’s seen it in the mirror, and he’s seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just can’t get out of his head anymore.
He offers, gently, “How can you need him when he’s right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?”
And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg.
Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.” Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. “But I like to think, sometimes, that maybe it’s a good thing. That there’s just… I don’t know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, there’s just so much love to give, we can’t even stick to only boys or girls, y’know.”
“That does sound real corny as fuck, man,” Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. It’s still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but it’s an offering.
One of many tonight, it seems.
Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. “Sorry, mister Heart of our group, but I don’t think you have any leg to stand on here.”
That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.
“What did you say?”
“Uh,” Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong — or if he went wrong at all. “I overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I don’t know. Why, what’s— What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.
“Mike,” he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.
“No.”
“It’s okay,” Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.
“Shut up!”
“You’re not wrong or bad or broken. It’s okay, you’re okay.”
“I said, shut up, Steve.”
“You should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. You—“
Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away — hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until he’s safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steve’s promises that it’s alright. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m so—“
He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close — quite literally, too.
But he doesn’t shove this time, doesn’t move out of Steve’s grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.
“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re so okay, Mike,” Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.
It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again — but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.
At last, when he’s calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. “Do you really… Does it… Is it really okay?”
Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?
Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Yeah. It’s really okay. ‘N’ I’m with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.”
And Mike — puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young — looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.
“Just don’t fucking shove me off your roof again.”
Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve can’t retaliate.
“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. “Hey, Micycle,” he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. “You want a ride back?”
Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. “What kinda music do you got?”
“The Clash, ‘cause Eddie hates them.”
“Yeah, that’s because they suck!”
Steve snorts, opening the driver’s side door. “Y’know, they’re one of Will’s favourites, actually.”
He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing there’s no way the boy would take the bike.
“You’re so annoying,” Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. “I don’t know why Eddie would date you—“
His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, it’s undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.
Something that makes Mike’s annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile he’s trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something that’s much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.
It’s going to be okay. So, so okay.
Before they know it, they’re pulling up to Steve’s and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.
“Hey, Steve?”
“Hm?”
“I think it’s cool. You and Eddie.”
He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.” He reaches over and ruffles Mike’s hair — a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. “Now go get your man, lover boy.”
“God, you suck so much, you’re so annoying!”
Steve’s cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.
He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette — and Steve’s heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.
“Hello, stranger,” he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world won’t see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they can’t take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.
“Hi,” Eddie breathes. “How’d it go?”
“Fine, I think. But, uhm… I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?”
Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddie’s thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.
“Hmm. Very. You think they’ll be okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, stealing Eddie’s cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. “Yeah, I think they will be.”
#steve & mike#steve harrington#mike wheeler#steddie#byler#pre-relationship byler#real hesitant to use the pairing tags tho 🥺😭#this kinda ran away from me i feel like i’m gonna have to try again with better words but here’s what i got for a first try#i write this whole 3.2k words thing tonight it is 2am i should proofread this but i have a lecture early in the morning i get 5h of sleep#(but only if i fall asleep right this instant which. ain’t happening chief. anyway uh depression era words?#dio words#and yes the bisexual light of this whole scene is important thanks for asking
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pinned with a look
for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'pin'
388 words | rated g | no cw | tags: pre-relationship, meet cute of sorts, single parent steve harrington, why yes steve "safety is so important" harrington did invite a man he doesn't actually know to his apartment, i only have 388 words so take it up with the other mod
🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢
The elevator doors opened and Olly jumped over the crack.
"Daddy, I made it! You need help?" He asked Steve as the person who was on it stepped out with a smile.
"No, I'm gonna be careful," he smiled at his five year old son as he made an exaggerated step over the crack. "You remember what floor we're on?"
Moving into this apartment building had been good for them, but it had been very stressful. Steve was all about safety, and it was important to him that Olly knew his address and how to get to their apartment in case they ever got separated in the building.
"Five like how old I am!"
"Yep! You wanna push the button?"
Olly nodded and pressed the button with a somewhat faded number five.
Just as the doors were starting to close, someone shoved their arm in and muttered 'thank god.'
"Daddy said you're not supposed to stick your arms and legs in if the doors are closing. You can get hurt," Olly pinned the stranger with the bitchy glare he definitely inherited from Steve.
The stranger smirked,kneeling down to get on Olly's level. "You're absolutely right. I could've been hurt and I shouldn't've done it. Thanks for reminding me."
Steve ignored the way his heart skipped at how this stranger was talking to Olly, pinning him with his own look of mild suspicion. Most people didn't like being spoken to by a kid like that. Why did this guy seem fine with it?
"So you won't do it again?" Olly asked him.
"I swear on my Uncle Wayne's life that I won't do it again Sir…" the man leaned his head forward in question.
"Olly."
"Sir Olly. I, Eddie James Munson, promise to be as careful as possible from now on."
The elevator doors were now closed and they were going up, but Eddie had never pushed what floor he needed.
Turns out he didn't need to.
As the doors opened on the fifth floor, Eddie stepped out with them and turned to the right. He started walking down the hall and then turned back.
"Apartment 586B if you have any more safety instructions!" He called to them.
Eddie pinned Steve with a look he knew well.
"586A if you want homemade ravioli for dinner!" Steve called back.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficmarch#pre relationship
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STWG Prompt: Missed Mistletoe
“Oh, Robbie!” Steve sing-songed out in a tone of voice that told Eddie he was up to no good.
Robin didn’t seem to notice, just giving a questioning hum in response, her head still stuck in Steve’s tv cabinet, looking for something to watch.
“Looks like you missed something.” Steve continued to sing, slowly approaching her from around the coffee table.
“What-?” Robin poked her head out, looking confusedly in Steve’s direction who had turned on the innocent big puppy dog eyes, twirling a sprig of mistletoe that he’d plucked from somewhere.
“No, Steve. Absolutely not.” She said, backing away as he continued to approach. “You keep those boy cooties away from me!”
“You gotta pay the toll, Birdie.” He shook it at her again as he approached.
Robin turned her eyes towards her girlfriend and Eddie, perched the couch, painting their nails.
Chrissy shrugged at her. “You gotta pay the toll, baby.”
Eddie didn’t respond, just sulked down at the polish.
He didn’t get told to pay the toll.
He’d have loved to be told to pay the toll.
A high pitched squeal made him look up and he was treated to the sight of Steve chasing Robin around the room. Though she was shouting at him to stay away, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and he knew Steve wouldn’t be pushing it if Robin was actually uncomfortable.
She made a sudden break for the stairs and while Eddie could hear them scrambling up, Chrissy nudged him in the ribs.
“Stop pouting.”
“I’m not pouting. I don’t pout. If anything I’m brooding.”
Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Okay, stop brooding then.”
“How can I? She’s stealing all my kisses.”
“He probably doesn’t know you even want to kiss him.”
“Have I not made it obvious enough?”
“Have you said it to him, using your big boy words? Or have you just stared at him wistfully from across the room, hoping he would get the message.”
Eddie glared at her, scowling at the nail polish bottles before muttering “The second one.”
“Exactly.” Chrissy gave him a condescending pat on the head. “Maybe try a new strategy.”
“Chris!” Robin screamed from the landing, throwing the sprig of mistletoe she’d somehow managed to wrench from Steve’s grasp through the air towards them.
It was way too wide of a throw but Chrissy wasn’t cheer team captain for nothing, stretching over the coffee table as it skidded along the wood to catch it before it disappeared over the ledge.
She sat back with a little fist bump to herself, bringing the sprig close to her cheek before Steve materialised next to her, snatching it back and smacking a sloppy kiss against that same cheek and taking off again to the sound of Robin’s outraged screams.
Eddie crossed his arms and turned what he hoped was a heartbroken expression on Chrissy.
“Now you’re stealing my kisses? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am your best friend, and as your best friend I’m telling you you need to make it more obvious and not just hope he gets it.”
Eddie huffed, turning his eyes around the room before his gaze landed on the bundle of mistletoe tied over the front door.
With a new plan in mind he pushed himself up to standing and dragged one of the sturdier looking end tables over the floor until it was sitting just underneath his prize.
“Ed, what the hell are you doing?” Chrissy asked, watching him like he was a cat trying to climb into a Christmas tree.
Eddie clambered up until he was nearly eye level with the greenery. Jesus, Steve’s doorways we’re tall. The end table was a little wobbly but it was fine. He was pretty sure it was solid wood and it would probably take a train running over it to break it.
“Making it more obvious.” He muttered, tongue between his teeth as he tried to untie it from the small nail it had been attached to.
“Oh my god, Eddie-” she muttered to herself, drowned out by the unmistakable sounds of Steve finally capturing Robin up and pressing wet sloppy kisses to her cheeks while she weakly shrieked about boy cooties in between her giggles.
Eddie nearly had it, he just needed to change the angle a little bit and-
He stepped back a little too far and felt his stomach fly out of his throat with that sickening feeling of stepping through nothing, like missing a step on the stairs.
There was a great big clatter as the table teetered out from underneath him and then he was falling.
He felt the impact the whole way up his back as he landed hard on his ass, momentarily breathless and shocked as Chrissy screamed out for him.
The back of his head throbbed. He’d probably hit it against the door on his way down and he rubbed it gingerly with a grimace as he sat up properly, feeling the tenderness right at the base of his spine.
“Eddie?!” Steve’s panicked voice reached him and he blinked his eyes open to see the man himself skidding to a stop next to him and crouching down, his eyes worried.
“‘M fine.”
Well.
So much for that plan.
He tried to wave them away but winced again when he moved his head.
“Can you girls get me one of the ice packs from the freezer?” Steve asked.
Robin and Chrissy nodded to him, their eyes worried before turning and rushing out towards the kitchen.
Steve turned his furrowed brow back towards him. “Any nausea, double vision?”
“I’m not concussed, Stevie, don’t worry. Just a little bruised.”
“What on earth were you doing?”
Eddie looked up at Steve hovering over him, his great big concerned eyes and his pink pouting mouth. He felt his own eyes slide from Steve’s face up towards the mistletoe which was gently rocking side to side, still above the door.
Steve followed his gaze up and huffed out a little laugh.
“Y’know,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “I had a plan for that, if you’d only waited a few hours.”
“You… what?”
“I was gonna use that to kiss you before you left.” Steve pointed up, grinning down at him while Eddie could do nothing but blink.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Eddie was forced to close his eyes at his own mortification, letting his head fall back against the door, ignoring the pain that came along with it.
Something lightly bumped him on the head and bounced into his lap.
When he opened his eyes, he looked down to find that same sprig of mistletoe he’d tried to untie had fallen down, hitting him on the forehead as it made its journey directly towards his fucking dick, because the universe was funny like that.
He chanced a glance up at Steve who was also staring down at it, his cheeks getting even redder.
Eddie swallowed down his nerves before asking “Pay the toll?”
Steve snapped his eyes up and grinned leaning forward and Eddie thought for one horrifying moment that Steve was gonna do it. That it was going to happen in front of his obscenely big front door and out in the open where the girls could walk back in at any second.
But Steve just gripped Eddie by the chin and leant forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead.
Oh.
Yeah, that was just as good.
But based on the look on Steve's face, he didn't think it would be too long before he could claim the toll fully paid.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#penny00dreadful#eddie x steve#penny ficlet#stwgdailyprompt#robin buckley#stobin#platonic soulmates stobin#dailydrabble#missed mistletoe#christmas#mistletoe#pre relationship
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