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#starambles
estrellami-1 · 10 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
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estrellami-1 · 4 months
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Ten Minutes
Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.
Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.
“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”
“I need you to pick me up.”
A pause. “Stevie?”
Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”
“My parents are in town.”
Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”
Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”
“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.
Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.
His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” he says lightly.
“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.
“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”
Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”
“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”
“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”
“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”
“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”
Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”
“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”
Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”
“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”
“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.
He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”
He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”
The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”
“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.
He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”
Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”
“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”
Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
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Falling
(ao3 link)
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
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estrellami-1 · 1 month
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Pay the Price
In which Steve needs Eddie’s help stopping the boys’ asshole behavior towards Lucas. He didn’t think he’d get anything more than a tentative alliance out of this, but best laid plans and all.
Part 1
“Eddie Munson,” Steve starts. “Heard you’re the man to talk to about teaching someone a lesson.”
A pause. “Uh,” Eddie says, “I mean, I don’t really do anything physical? But I won’t tell either, man, to each their own, I guess, unless you mean withholding weed, because that I can do. Depending on the lesson being taught.”
Steve chuckles. “No, nothing physical, and no weed withholding, either. Or at least, there shouldn’t be, considering they’re kids.”
Eddie sighs. “Okay, I get it. Prank call, right? Ha-ha, very funny, wanna get your laughs out now before I end the call?”
“Not a prank call,” Steve says evenly. “‘S about the kids I babysit. They’re in Hellfire. Mike’s being a little shit to Lucas.” A pause, “Dustin too, kinda, but Mike’s definitely the ringleader, y’know?”
“What the actual fuck,” Eddie says slowly, “is happening?”
Steve chuckles. “Like I said. The kids’re being shits to Lucas and I need your help curbing their behavior.”
“Who the fuck are you, man?”
Steve chuckles again. “Tell you what, ‘cause I doubt you’re gonna believe me unless you see me. You busy for the next hour or so?”
“You’ve piqued my interest. I’ll bite. No, I’m not busy.”
“Y’know Loch Nora?”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
“Last house on the right. Twenty minutes. See you then, Munson.”
Steve puts the phone back on the receiver and breathes out a sigh as he grins. This is gonna be fun.
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Y’all are the absolute funniest most of the tags/comments on part 2 were either “oh shit Nancy????” Like we as a collective Steddie hivemind genuinely forgot Steve and Nancy were a Thing for a minute and I think that’s so sexy of us. OR y’all went “OH THANK FUCK ROBIN REMEMBERS” which. Y’all. Y’all don’t understand how little control I actually have over this fic 😂 like genuinely I’m not creating anything, it’s writing itself, I’m just writing the words down. It’s fantastic. 😂 also keep in mind I have a tentative posting schedule of every 4 days so expect something on/around the 16th! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Eddie runs.
He’s terrified and a coward but it’s kept him alive this long so he runs, books it back to his van, ignores Harrington calling out for him, only realizes when he’s most of the way home that he’s still got the ring clenched in his hand.
He stares at it long enough at a stoplight that someone honks at him when it turns green. “What the fuck,” he whispers again, placing it on his desk when he gets home. “What the fuck.”
Wayne knocks on his door then immediately pokes his head in, which completely defeats the purpose of the knock, but Eddie’s door was open anyways. “Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“Y’alright, kiddo?”
“I think I hallucinated.”
Wayne’s silent for a few long moments. “Did you take somethin’? Or are you bein’ dramatic?”
“I didn’t take anything.”
Wayne sighs. “Wanna tell me what you think you hallucinated?”
He’s about to, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite say it. Like there’s a dam at the front of his mouth, and the words can’t break through. He lets out a desperate chuckle and shakes his head, flopping backwards onto his bed. “I don’t even know.”
Wayne raises a brow, but before he can respond, there’s a knock on the trailer door.
Knock is a polite term for it. It’s more like someone’s trying to break down the door with their fist. “Munson!” Someone yells. “Open this door, dammit, or I will drag you out by your ears?”
“Boy,” Wayne says, looking at him. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?”
Eddie groans, grabs his pillow, and screams into it.
When he surfaces for air, Wayne’s gone, talking to the person at the front door. Eddie vaguely recognizes the voice. Female, young, probably someone he has a class with.
Wayne, the traitor, lets her in, and Eddie’s suddenly faced with a furious Robin Buckley. He blinks. “Buckley?”
He tries to think back, but he hadn’t sold her anything recently—or ever, for that matter—so he has no idea why she’s here, looking like she’s about to murder him. “You said you’d listen.”
He blinks again. Sits up to face her. “What?”
“Steve. He told you.”
“Steve- Harrington? Oh, come on, Buckley, are you delusional too?”
Blue eyes narrow at him. “You’ve got a little stick-n-poke on your thigh. It’s an upside down star. It’s crappy ‘cause you did it yourself, but that’s why you love it. He already said your favorite song, so I won’t repeat it. You’ve had a frankly ridiculous crush on him practically since the moment you laid eyes on him. You call your guitar your sweetheart because that’s what your mom called you, and she’s the one who taught you to play.” She crosses her arms. “I can keep going.”
“I suppose you’re from the future, then, too?” Her words catch up to him and he suddenly blanches. “I, uh, I’m not sure about your second point.”
She softens some, which is rather unexpected, but he’s grateful. “Oh, Eddie.” She sits on the edge of his bed. “Me too. It’s alright. I’m sorry, I got upset because you ran, after you told Steve you’d listen, and…” she sighs, looking around his room, before standing when she catches sight of the ring on his desk. She picks it up and studies it. “This is practically all we have left,” she says softly, and Eddie feels like throwing up.
“Because I die?”
She looks at him like she’s seeing a ghost. “Yeah.”
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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
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If I Should Stay
Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Steve is terrified.
Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.
Then he woke up in school in 1984.
He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”
Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.
She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.
Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”
Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.
He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.
He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.
She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.
Robin’s pencil lead snaps.
Steve freezes.
He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.
She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.
She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”
She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”
He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.
He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.
She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”
“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”
“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”
Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”
“Yeah.” Robin sighs.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”
I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️
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Me @ all of you:
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estrellami-1 · 2 months
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Steddie Microfic
March prompt: pin
Word count: 388
No warnings apply
Rated G
@steddiemicrofic
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“Tammy Thompson,” Robin chokes out.
It’s quiet enough that, if Steve had a pin and dropped it, he wouldn’t just hear it hit the ground; he’d hear the slightest whisper as it parts the air.
“Oh,” he whispers dumbly, trying to process. Why would she- when he-
He realizes, distantly, that oh isn’t really an answer, and Robin would probably really appreciate the reassurance that he’s not going to hate her, so he blurts out, “But she sounds like a muppet!”
He immediately regrets it, then regrets it a little less when she laughs, half-offended. “She does not!”
“Does too!” He argues, and proceeds to demonstrate, warbling out an excerpt from Bonnie Tyler.
He ends up scooting under the stall divider because legs are still just a concept and he needs her to know something immediately, needs to see her face when he tells her. “I didn’t notice,” he says nonsensically, since the conversation has well and truly moved on at this point. At her furrowed brows, he clarifies, “I didn’t notice her looking at me.” He takes Robin’s hands in his, squeezes gently. “Because I was always looking at him.”
Robin’s a genius, so she gets it a lot faster than he did the first time around. Her eyes are saucer-wide as she gasps out, “Who?”
Steve bites his lip, feels oddly shy as he confesses. “Eddie Munson.”
Her jaw drops. “Munson? You’re telling me you were ragging on Tammy Thompson when you have a thing for Munson?”
“Yeah, and?” Steve argues back.
“He’s a total nerd! That’s, like, the opposite of you!”
“And?”
“And he stepped in my lunch!”
Steve opens his mouth, realizes he has no rebuttal, and shuts it. “Sorry?” He offers.
She snorts out a laugh and drops her head to his shoulder. “You are never allowed to tease me about my preference when you’re crushing on Eddie Munson.”
Since Steve’s brain only works about forty-eight percent of the time, he mindlessly blurts out, “I’m not crushing on him.”
“You’re not? You just can’t keep your eyes off of him? How’s that any different?”
Steve nibbles his lip again, mutters to himself, “I’m in for a hell of an apology,” then sighs and goes for it. “I’m not crushing on Eddie because I’m dating him.”
“Oh,” Robin says, and Steve laughs.
“Yeah. Oh.”
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estrellami-1 · 3 months
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(Healing From the) Pain
Steve spent most of his life feeling pain. At this point, he characterizes his life by it.
The pain of a backhand, courtesy of his father, at six years old. His lip doesn��t split, but it’s a near thing.
The pain in his wrist when he falls wrong at nine years old. His parent won’t take him to the doctor initially, so he goes to school the next day. When the teacher notices, she sends him to the nurse, who calls his parents. They’re upset at him. He doesn’t know why, but he promises them it won’t happen again.
The pain all over at fourteen when he gets into wrestling. He’s good, manages to pin his opponent four times out of five.
The pain at sixteen, getting his face bashed in by Jonathan Byers. Then the demogorgon, and really, Steve is just a walking bruise at that point.
Then there’s the Russians. The less said about that, the better. The only silver lining is Robin.
Now he’s trailing behind Dustin, breaking into Reefer Rick’s boathouse, and Steve is sure this is going to end painfully.
He’s shoved against the wall, something sharp against his neck, and he thinks he was right as he groans.
The something sharp against his neck digs in as he looks Eddie Munson in the eye, and a few things happen simultaneously.
Eddie drops the shard of glass, steps back with a gasp, and brings his hand up to his own neck.
Steve blinks at him, thinks there’s no fuckin’ way, and stoops to scoop up the piece of glass and test it.
He presses the point into his left palm. Eddie reaches out to stop him, then flinches away.
“Well,” Steve says, because finding his soulmate in a boathouse was not on his Bingo card for this year, but here he is, with the burning brand of a soulmark on his neck to prove it.
Eddie skitters back, breathing growing heavy, looking around with wild eyes. He doesn’t seem to see Dustin, and something snaps in Steve’s chest.
He drops the glass and steps forward. “Dustin, out,” he says, and something in his voice must be different, because Dustin doesn’t hesitate before closing the door behind him. “Eddie,” Steve says softly. “You’re okay. It’s alright. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy.”
Eddie glances at Steve’s neck, then his hand, before looking away. Something else breaks open in Steve’s chest. “I’m not mad,” he admits quietly. “Eddie, please. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps forward again, hope unfurling in his chest when Eddie doesn’t move. He takes another cautious step, then another, until finally he’s in front of Eddie.
Still being cautious, he raises a hand, well within Eddie’s line of sight, and lets it rest gently on Eddie’s forearm.
Eddie flinches violently, but doesn’t move away. Steve takes it as permission and places his other hand on Eddie’s other forearm. He gently rubs them up Eddie’s arms until they’re resting on his shoulders. “You’re shaking,” he whispers, swiping a thumb up and down the side of Eddie’s neck. The something in his chest heals a little.
“Y-you’re-”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, still whispering. “I am.”
“How-”
Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m just- is it weird if I say I’m glad I found you?”
Eddie manages a hysterical bray of a laugh. “A girl died on my ceiling, man, this is not the weirdest part of my day.”
Steve nods. “Let’s go back to my place,” he suggests. “It’ll be a lot easier to hide there, no one will think to look for you, and we can explain everything.”
Eddie takes a breath. Another. Lets his fingers trail along Steve’s arm. Nods. “Okay,” he whispers.
“Okay,” Steve whispers back, smiling a little, and Eddie copies him. His chest heals a little bit more, and suddenly Steve knows everything’s going to work out just fine.
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estrellami-1 · 4 months
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First Cuts
Part 1 | Part 2
“Hey,” Steve says breathlessly. “Y’know that thing that we are not mentioning, ever, on pain of death?”
Eddie blinks. “Y’know you’re still mentioning it even if you don’t call it what it is, right?”
“Eddie,” Steve says seriously, which causes Eddie to focus. “I need your help. I’m kinda freaking out, here.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, running through things in his mind. “Want me to come over? Or wanna come over here? Or just over the phone?”
“I’m stressed out enough I can’t make any decisions right now,” Steve says.
“Okay,” Eddie says, “then I’m coming over. Unlock the door for me, ‘kay? I’ll be there in ten.”
“M’kay. Thank you.” With a click he’s gone, and Eddie hangs his phone back up too, looking around for his keys.
He snatches them off the counter, jams his feet into his shoes, and takes off.
He realizes halfway there that he’s still in his pajamas.
He walks in when he arrives to find Steve sitting at the table, staring at an envelope like he’s trying to disintegrate it with just his vision. Eddie thinks he can almost see the paper smoking. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”
Steve doesn’t meet his eyes, just keeps his gaze locked on the envelope. “I did something impulsive. And Robin doesn’t know. And either nothing changes, or everything does.” He lifts his face to Eddie’s. His bottom lip is bitten raw.
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Well, first things first is to figure out which of those options it is, right? I’m assuming the letter will determine which it is.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching for it, only to push it towards Eddie. “I, uh. I applied to a specific school. And I know the kids are going to tease me about it-”
“Hey,” Eddie interrupts, brows furrowed. “You’re plenty smart, Stevie, don’t listen to the little shitheads, alright? Whatever the answer is, whatever you decide to do, I’m with you. One hundred percent. I’ll even punish the little twerps during our next session if they say anything, okay?”
“Can you open it?” Steve begs, whispering, eyes wide.
Eddie’s hopeless to refuse. “Of course I can,” he replies, just as softly.
He looks at the envelope. Good, thick paper. Sticker return address. He opens it and pulls out a letter.
Dear Steven J. Harrington,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen for 1988’s starting class! In Tricoci University, we pride ourselves on…
Eddie looks up at Steve with a grin. “You’re in.”
“Holy shit,” Steve breathes. “Holy shit!” He begins to grin. “I made it!”
“You made it!” Eddie celebrates, then keeps reading.
We hope you look forward to your time here at Tricoci University of Beauty Culture Bloomington.
Eddie looks up at Steve again. “A beauty school?”
Steve flushes scarlet. “Cosmetology. I wanna do hair.”
Eddie sits for a minute, thinking, before he grins at Steve and stands to sweep him into a spinning hug. “That sounds perfect for you!”
Steve giggles giddily, then grins happily at Eddie when he’s set down. “You really think so?”
“Think so? I know so! Stevie! This is gonna be so good for you!” He drags Steve over to the couch so they can both sit. “I mean, think about it. And I don’t just mean the obvious high school shit. Even the little things. You’re good with people, dude. They just like you just ‘cause you’re you. And who knows more about you than anyone else?”
Steve frowns. “Robin?”
Eddie chuckles. “My mistake. General you, not specific. Your hairdresser! You tell them everything. And you live for that shit, Stevie, I see how your eyes light up when the kids share gossip.” He grabs Steve’s hands and smiles warmly at him. “I promise, everyone’s gonna be so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Eds,” Steve murmurs, cheeks still pink.
“And hey,” Eddie says, grinning again. “You’ve got at least one lifelong customer.” He points to himself, grinning when Steve laughs.
“Thanks,” he says, then takes a deep breath, suddenly serious again. Eddie schools his face accordingly. “Will you help me tell Robin?”
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
Text
Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.
Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-
“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”
Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”
Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”
“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.
Dustin frowned. “Go where?”
“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”
“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”
Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.
He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.
“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”
Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”
Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”
“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”
“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”
“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”
“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”
“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”
Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”
Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”
Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.
“‘S fine.”
“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”
Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”
“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”
Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”
“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”
“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”
Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”
“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”
Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”
“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”
“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”
“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”
Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”
“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”
Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”
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estrellami-1 · 4 months
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First Cuts
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“Okay,” Robin says, walking into the living room with her hands on her hips. “What the fuck was that cryptic message about?”
Steve sends a tired, judgmental look Eddie’s way. “What did you say?”
Eddie grins happily. “That she needed to come over.”
“Yes, and then refused to give me any more details, you asshole,” Robin hisses, poking his chest as she walks past to sit next to Steve on the couch. “What’s going on, babes?”
Steve takes a breath, glances at Eddie—who nods encouragingly—then looks back to Robin. “So… I impulsively did something a little bit ago that I didn’t think would pan out.”
Robin raises a brow. “It’s panning out?”
He bites his lip. “It is. And I’m… I’m really excited, Robs, in a way I didn’t think I would be, especially about something like this.”
“Okay. Well know first of all that anything that has you this excited already has me excited too and I support you one hundred percent.”
Steve giggles. “Thanks, Robbie.”
“So what’s the something like this you mentioned?”
Steve bites his lip again, wiggles on the couch. “School.”
Robin’s brows hit her hairline. “You applied?”
“I did.”
“And got accepted?”
“I did!”
“Holy shit, Steve!” Robin yells, jumping off the couch, grabbing his hands and jumping around. “I’m so freaking proud of you! I knew you could!”
Steve giggles again and pulls her into a hug. “Thanks, Robbie. But it’s more, uh, about the kind of school I got into.”
Robin blinks and frowns. “Okay.”
“It’s…” he looks down. “I’m, uh. Kinda embarrassed to say it, actually?”
“Oh, Stevie,” Robin murmurs, climbing into his lap to pull him into a hug. “You never have to be embarrassed with me, okay?” She says, before pulling back to place his face between her palms. “We literally saw each other at our lowest. We have no embarrassing parts anymore. Okay?”
“Got it,” Steve says, slightly muffled from her hands still clutching his cheeks. She lets go, and he smiles. “I applied to a cosmetology school. I wanna do hair.”
Robin’s silent for a few moments before, “Holy shit, Stevie!” She jumps up from the couch. “Can you practice on me? Please?” She gasps, “are you gonna learn how to do colors?”
“Uh,” Steve laughs, “Yeah, probably.”
She dances around his living room, uncaring of how ridiculous she looks. “This is gonna be so good for you! You’re gonna do so good! I mean you already know everything, and you’re such a natural, and you like it, and I’m so excited for you!”
Steve giggles again, grabbing her hand as she’s passing by to pull her into a quick, tight hug. “Thanks, Robbie.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
Text
Never Forgot
Based on this post.
Steve knew something was wrong when she ran out of the room, choking back tears.
He felt bad, felt like there was something missing, but he didn’t remember her. Thinking about it, he realized he didn’t really remember anything.
“Robin?” Dustin asked when she all but ran out of the hospital room.
She stifled a sob and collapsed onto the bench next to him, holding a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dustin, he… he doesn’t remember me.”
Dustin took a deep breath and very carefully did not freak out. “Okay. You stay here, I’ll go talk to him. See if we can shake it loose or something.” He rolled his eyes at the look she gave him. “Not literally, Buckley, jeez. Keep your pants on.”
He squared his shoulders and walked into the hospital room. Steve looked fine, if tired—hospital lighting never did anyone any favors—but the absent smile he sent Dustin spoke volumes. “Hi,” he said quietly, stilted in a way he never was anymore. Not with Dustin. “Um, can you apologize to her for me? She seemed really upset and I’m not sure what I did but I think it’s my fault.”
Dustin sighed and sat in the chair by Steve’s hospital bed. “You really don’t remember her, huh.” It wasn’t a question, so Steve didn’t answer. “And I’m guessing you don’t remember me, either?”
Steve picked at the blanket on his lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Jesus fuck,” Dustin whispered, screwing his eyes shut. “Don’t apologize, Jesus, it’s not your fault. It just… sucks.”
Steve snorted. “Imagine waking up and only remembering one person.”
Dustin looked up at him sharply. “One person?”
Steve shrugged. “Guess I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn’t, yeah.”
“Boyfriend?” Dustin blinked. “Steve, you’re not dating anyone.”
Steve frowned. “I am. Maybe you don’t know him? Eddie? Eddie Munson?”
“Eddie- Christ, Steve, of course I know Eddie, and you two aren’t dating. You’re, like, as straight as they come.”
“No- no, I am, I’m dating him, I’m- we’re-”
“Whoa, okay, hold up, calm down,” Dustin said, holding his hands out. “It’s fine, dude, okay, we’ll figure it out later but I don’t think you should be stressing this hard after just waking up.”
Steve hummed. “What, uh. What actually happened to me?”
Dustin sighed. “The doctors said your body essentially performed a hard reset. You’ve been running on fumes for too long. You collapsed from sheer exhaustion. At least you didn’t hit your head this time, though maybe that would’ve prevented you from losing your memory, so who fuckin’ knows.”
“Language,” Steve chided, then blinked when Dustin looked at him excitedly. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Dustin just laughed. It was only a little forced. “You’re just incapable of not being a mom.”
——————————
Robin went back in next, lightly tapping Dustin’s shoulder as she passed him in the doorway. He shook his head, and her heart sank. “He-” Dustin shook his head, bit his lip. “He thinks he and Eddie are dating. Eddie’s the only person he remembers.”
Robin gave him a little half-smile. “He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while. I didn’t realize it was this bad, but.” She shrugged. “I’ll talk to him. You call everyone else?”
“Yeah.”
She took a deep breath and walked into the room. “So,” she started. “You really don’t remember?”
Steve shook his head, eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry. I wish I did.”
“Dustin said you remember one person?”
“Mhm. Eddie.”
“Right. And you and Eddie? What are you?”
Steve frowned even deeper. “Boyfriends. If we’re this close, shouldn’t you know that?”
Robin shrugged. “I’d like to think so. That’s why Dustin and I aren’t convinced you are dating. Maybe your memories are just… really vivid daydreams.”
“You really think so?”
Robin sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to think, Steve. Hell, I didn’t even know how bad it was until you collapsed. Some soulmate I am.”
“With a capital P,” Steve said, holding up a hand before Robin could say anything. “Sometimes certain memories are triggered. It’s… like a puzzle piece slotting into place. But I’ve got about a million more pieces missing. I can’t see what that specific piece connects to.”
Robin hums. “Okay. So you remember Eddie. And if I say Hellfire..?” Steve just frowned. “Or… Metallica?”
Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know that one.”
“Did you know that before I said it?”
Steve nodded. “Hellfire’s related to Eddie?”
Robin chuckled. “You could say that.”
“What is it?”
She laughed again. “I think I’ll let your boyfriend explain that one.”
“Even though you don’t believe we’re dating.”
Robin spread her hands. “Soulmates with a capital P, Steve. I can’t think of any reason you wouldn’t at least tell me. Especially since you know—err, knew—I’m a lesbian.”
Steve frowned. “Maybe Eddie didn’t want to? Does he know?”
“Yup.”
“Oh.” He frowned again. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “I’m not asking you to have all the answers. Especially now. Just… think about it, yeah?”
“I will,” he promised. “Um. Are you okay?”
“Jesus, Steve.” Robin laughed. It was only mostly hysterical. “Of course you’d still be thinking about everyone else. I’m fine. Or- I will be. You just take care of yourself, dingus.”
He chuckled. “Will do, Robbie.”
She sighed. “Another puzzle piece?” He nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go track down Dustin and see where he’s at with all the other ankle-biters.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” She lingered for a half-second, then sighed again and walked out.
——————————
He was released two days later. Drove himself home, Robin in the passenger seat and Dustin in the back row. Dustin quizzed him about the rest of the Party the whole way home, made sure Steve knew their names forwards, backwards and upside down, as well as what everyone was like. “Max is kickass,” he said. “Like, she’ll absolutely smile in your face as she knees you in the balls. And it’s the kinda smile that strikes fear into a man. She’s awesome. And-”
“Okay,” Steve said, amused. He didn’t know how Dustin could go that long without a breath. “I’ll know what you’re talking about as soon as we get out of the car and get inside, right?”
Dustin yelped when he looked up to see them parked before scrambling out the door and running inside.
Steve grinned at Robin, who grinned back, before they made their way inside, albeit at a slower pace than Dustin had.
Steve vaguely recognized everybody, but his attention focused in on a very specific person. “Eds.”
Eddie smiled, small and soft and sweet, one of Steve’s favorites. “Heya, Stevie.”
Suddenly he couldn’t help himself. He had to be with Eddie, right then, it couldn’t wait, so he didn’t. Practically flung himself at Eddie, like he knew Eddie would catch him (he did). Attaches his mouth to Eddie’s, a silent promise, I never forgot you, flowing between them.
When they pulled back, Eddie stared at him like he’d hung the fucking sun. “You remember?” Eddie asked in a whisper.
“Never forgot,” Steve promised, at the same volume.
“What. The actual. Fuck,” Robin said. Eddie and Steve froze as they turned to face her and the rest of the Party, who were all staring with the same expression.
“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “We forgot to tell Robin.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 month
Text
We’ll Help You
Started as Steve and Robin platonic soulmate fluff. Devolved into *vaguely waves hands* whatever the fuck this is. I considered writing more but realized it would very quickly become Just Words, instead of a story, and I want y’all to have this because personally I think Steve and Robin are Goals in this one. As it is, there will not be a part 2 to this one… at least, not one written by me! If y’all want to do something by with this, go right ahead; just tag me in it!
“Bye, Mom, Dad, I’m going to Steve’s!” Robin calls into the house.
“Have fun!” Her mother calls back.
“Use protection!” Her dad yells.
“Dick!” Her mother yells back.
“That’s what I’m saying!” He says.
Melissa sighs. “Richard,” she says, faux-sweetly, “Robin and Steve are not together. She’s told us this many times.”
“Yeah, and neither were we when you-”
“Richard!” Melissa takes a breath. “Bye, Robin. Have fun, okay?”
“Okay,” Robin says, and closes the door, getting into Steve’s car with wide eyes.
He chuckles at her expression. “You good?”
“My parents have scarred me.”
Steve makes a face. “What, did you walk in on them?”
“No, they were talking about when they had me! I don’t need to know this, Steven!” She hisses back.
Steve just snorts, shakes his head, and drives on.
Robin is suddenly hit with a familiar, unwelcome pain. “Fuck,” she hisses, bending over and clutching her stomach. “Steve? I need to turn around.”
“What? Why? What’s wrong?”
She wants to cry. “I, uh. Just started? And I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“Oh.” A pause, “What medicine do you usually take?”
She blinks. “Um. Advil?”
“Okay. Then I’ve got you covered.”
“No- Steve, it’s not just-”
“Robin,” he says calmly, “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got supplies at home.”
She blinks at him. “Since when?”
His cheeks pinken. “Since we became friends? I just… I dunno. I knew we were gonna be forever, y’know? And I want you to have access to anything you’ll need. So I got some stuff.”
“What the fuck,” she whispers, tears beading in her eyes. “What the fuck, Steve, I’m gonna cry, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Steve shrugs. “I just want you to have what you need.”
She sniffles and leans her head against the window. “Fuck, I love you.”
Steve smiles, puts a hand on her arm, squeezes gently. “Love you too, Robin.”
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They get back to his house and get settled in on the couch. “I’ve got a heating pad, if you want it,” Steve offers.
Robin blinks at him. “Marry me.”
Steve laughs. “I thought that’s exactly what we’re trying to convince your parents isn’t happening.”
“I don’t care,” she responds, groaning in relief when she positions the heating pad. She collapses back into the corner of the couch. “I want to have a dick.”
Steve laughs. “You can’t even look at a dick, Robin.”
“I could if it was mine,” she argues nonsensically.
“You don’t want a dick,” he assures her, then pauses. “If you were a guy, would you still like girls? Or would you still be gay?”
“I… don’t know,” she says, thinking. “I mean, there’s people who were born one gender and are the other now, right? And they still like the same gender. So I would too.”
“Okay, but are we talking you were born a guy? Or you’d turn into a guy? Cause if you were born a guy, that might change things.”
Robin groans in frustration. “I wouldn’t care, as long as Satan stopped throwing parties in my uterus every month.”
Steve snickers. “I can’t fix that, but I do have chocolate ice cream.”
“And again I say, marry me.”
He smiles at her, affection shining through. “We’d be the best platonic husband and wife ever.”
Robin smiles, best she can through the pain. “Only if I’m the husband.”
“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “I can be the wife.” He pauses for a second, then asks, “Is that… is that something you’d want? Being a guy?”
Robin hums. “No. Much as I hate certain things that come with being a woman, I definitely wouldn’t want to be a guy.” Steve hums, frowning, and Robin shifts on the couch. “Hold on,” she says, “I know that look. What’re you thinking?”
“Just…” he runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t get what the big deal is? I don’t have super strong feelings about being a guy. There’s nothing telling me, this is who you’re supposed to be.”
“Okay,” Robin says slowly, carefully, “and how about your feelings on being a girl?”
Steve shrugs. “Same. I don’t care either way.”
“Huh,” Robin says, and leans back. “That’s… I mean, that’s okay, obviously, but that’s not… what a guy would typically say.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, ‘cause you’re such an expert on guys.”
Robin groans and thinks her head on the cushion. “Okay, so call someone. Call Eddie, he’d know, right?”
“Oh yeah,” Steve says, and hops up from the couch. “Hey, while I’m over here, should I order a pizza?”
Robin snickers. “Call Eddie first. Maybe he’ll come over and it’ll be the three of us. Actually, don’t even tell him, just invite him over. I wanna see his face when you tell him.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Robs. Eddie, hey! Wanna come over? Pizza and ice cream with me and Robin?”
Robin hisses at him, so he says, “Sorry, ice cream’s been spoken for, actually. Wait, Robs, are you sure? The whole tub?”
“Do not test me, Steven,” comes her response.
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, if you want to get one for the two of us to share, that would be great. See you in twenty? Okay, cool. I’ll order the pizza. Bye!”
He orders the pizza without a hitch. He’s promised delivery within fifteen minutes and wanders back over to the couch, where he grins at Robin. “Wanna pick a movie before Eddie gets here and can veto it?”
Robin grins back. “You know I’m gonna pick something you hate.”
“I know.” His smile turns more genuine. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
He waves her off. “Course you do. You gonna pick?”
“I’m surprised you doubted me,” she says, and picks something he hadn’t realized he had.
The pizza arrives a short minute before Eddie does. They all eat before Robin makes Steve and Eddie sit so she can recap everything.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, shrugging. “I just don’t care.”
“So our question is,” Robin says, “do you? Is there something in you that says you’re a guy, or would be wrong as a girl?”
“Definitely,” Eddie nods, studying Steve. “Y’know there’s people in between? Who aren’t really a guy or a girl?”
Steve’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “They go by they or them, and a lot of times they’ll change their name to be something more in-between too, like Avery or Taylor.”
“Huh,” Steve says, tipping his head back to stare through the ceiling as he thinks. “So… so if I were to do that… and maybe go by Stevie-”
“Then we’d call you Stevie,” Eddie nods. “We’d say they’re so cool, they have a nailbat, I’m so glad I’m friends with them.”
“Oh,” Steve says. His voice is shaky.
“Stevie,” Robin murmurs. “You’re crying.”
“Oh,” he says again, wiping his face and giving a little laugh. “Sorry. I dunno why. I think… that makes sense.” They look at Eddie, then Robin, holds eye contact when they say, “That’s who I am.”
Robin’s tearing up, too. “Nice to meet you, Stevie,” she whispers.
They choke out a little laugh and move to sit next to her, pulling her into a hug. “Love you, Robbie.”
“You too,” she whispers. “Hey, can I still call you dingus?”
Stevie laughs. “Sure, Robs.”
“Cool.” She beams and pulls them into a tight hug. “‘M glad you figured this out.”
Stevie giggles. “Me too.” They turn to Eddie, “Thanks for helping me figure this out.”
Eddie smiles warmly at them. “Anytime,” he promises. “And hey, now that you know, there’s plenty you can do, if you want to.”
Stevie furrows their brows. “Like what?”
“Well, you could grow your hair out, or cut it. You could change your wardrobe. You could get makeup, if you wanted. Anything that’ll help you feel more like you.”
Stevie frowns. “I don’t know what feels like me.”
“That’s okay,” Eddie says, smiling first at them, then at Robin. “We’ll help you.”
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estrellami-1 · 2 months
Text
Quite Miss Home
Had an idea. Wrote 2.3k words in a couple of hours. Pure fluff based on the James Arthur song. ❤️
“Helloooooo, Chicago!” Eddie yells into the mic, reveling in the roar he gets back from the audience.
It’s been ten years since it all; since the end of the world as he knew it and the beginning of something so much better. Corroded Coffin had taken off quickly, after the “earthquakes;” something about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, if Eddie had to guess, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, just enjoy what he’s given, and damn is he enjoying it.
“How are you?” He asks, grinning when the audience cheers again. “Alright, alright. Man, I’ll tell you, it’s fuckin’ awesome being here. But can I tell you a secret?” The audience roars again, and he grins as he takes his guitar off, hoisting it up. “Who’s this?”
“Sweetheart!” The crowd yells back.
“That’s right!” He quietly thanks the stagehand who darts up to grab it from him. “But it’s not my only sweetheart. In fact, my real sweetheart is at home. And this tour is so awesome, but I’m kinda starting to miss my sweetheart.”
“Aww,” the crowd says, and he grins softly at them.
“I know,” he says. “This next song is for my sweetheart. They’re at home because they get migraines, and tours aren’t very conducive to not getting migraines, so we both decided it would be better if they stayed home. So this next song isn’t Corroded Coffin’s normal sound. In fact-” he gestures at the stage behind him- “if you’ll notice, the rest of the boys aren’t up here anymore. This is an Eddie Munson original, and I want to thank them, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be the dramatic sap I am, and letting me sing this song, on national television, for my sweetheart.” The stagehand comes up again, this time with an acoustic, and again Eddie thanks him. “So, sweetheart,” he says, facing the cameras, “this one’s for you.”
“I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside. You're careful not to let the smoke inside. I always tell you it's poison, but I know it helps you take the edge off the day.”
Eddie knows exactly where Steve’s gonna be when he gets home from where he works part-time as a bartender. In through the front door, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, straight through to the porch where Steve’s smoking.
“Y’know those things are poison,” he jokes, stealing it straight from Steve’s mouth and taking a drag before giving it back to him.
“I never want kids,” Steve says in answer. He’s a kindergarten teacher, so he comes home in one of two moods: he has the worst baby fever, or he never wants to see another child again.
“Yeah? What happened today?” Eddie asks, settling in close. He’s hungry, and was vaguely considering a stir fry, but instead he tucks in close as Steve takes another drag, preparing himself.
“Okay, so get this.”
“We get a drink before it's closing time, the one on High Street with the blinking sign. All these memories feel poignant. I won't be there to see the snow melt away.”
“Hey,” Eddie says, seeing someone settle at the bar in his periphery. “What can I get you?”
Then he actually turns to face the person, and-
Oh.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” Steve grins, leaning over the counter. “And maybe… something else? A little later?”
A thrill of heat rushes through Eddie, but he rolls his eyes with a grin and pushes Steve back by a palm to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants,” he admonishes, “I’m on the clock for the next four hours. Someone didn’t tell me they were gonna drop in, and I took my break twenty minutes ago.”
Steve hums. “Y’know, a dull knife could be very dangerous,” he says. “I certainly hope the one you’re using to cut limes is sharp.”
Oh.
Eddie grins, always on board, and leans over the counter. “Steve Harrington,” he purrs, delighting in the flush racing up his cheeks and down his neck. “What exactly are you insinuating?”
Steve sits there for a beat, drains his whiskey, and hops off the stool with a dangerous smirk. “Careful on your way out. It started snowing.”
“Oh, yeah, I been gone on business. I gotta make some money. I really feel the distance.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve murmurs, clinging to Eddie like a koala. They’re still in bed, and Eddie doesn’t have to leave for another five hours. He’s gonna spend all the time he can in bed with Steve.
“I know, baby,” Eddie whispers back. “Tours are so long.”
“A month,” Steve agrees. “And then another three, after Indy.”
“But just think,” Eddie murmurs. “You’re still working, right? And those kids love you, and no matter what you say, I know you love them. And this tour is gonna be really good for us. We could get Wayne into a house, and help Hop with his payments-”
“He won’t accept the help.”
“No, but Joyce will,” Eddie grins. Steve laughs softly into his chest, then sighs and kisses a tattoo.
“I just wish I could be with you. I wish my head worked right.”
“Baby,” Eddie says firmly, “I love you. Regardless of if you can or can’t come with me. If you’re gonna be miserable the entire time—and we both know you would be, don’t even try to deny it—I’d be miserable, too.”
“I know,” Steve sighs.
“But hey. We’ve got time right now. And I’m not letting you move from this very spot until I’m gonna be late.”
Steve chuckles. “I’ll drag you out myself, Eds, much as I don’t want it I know you need to go.”
“I know,” Eddie says softly, turning so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. “But I don’t have to go right now. And I’m gonna spend as much time as I can right now with you.”
“I know.”
“No, baby,” Eddie says, eyes wide, “you don’t get it. I won’t even let you pee alone today.”
“So just like normal, then,” Steve grins.
Eddie squawks.
“And I quite miss home. And I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry. When the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV. Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home.”
“Hey, Eds,” Steve calls as soon as Eddie steps foot inside. “Shoes off at the door, I just swept and I swear to God, if you track dirt into the house-”
Eddie chuckles, toeing his shoes off before walking further into the house. “I know, baby, it wreaks havoc on your bare feet to feel it. I get a free pass from that ‘cause I wear socks like a normal person.”
“Literally when have you ever been normal,” Steve says, “that’s not normal, you and your fuckin’ ice cube toes in the middle of the goddamn night on my calves-”
Eddie snickers. “‘S not my fault you’re a furnace, babe.”
“I will maintain that it is your fault until we can prove otherwise, actually.”
Eddie is in love with this man. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks, laughing, wandering down the hallway and into their room, where Steve’s folding laundry. “Fuck, I love you.”
Steve grins and accepts a kiss. “I love you too.”
“I smell you cooking from the living room, and then I tell you that I love your food. I know it doesn't come easy, but you know it reminds me where I'm from.”
“Baby,” Eddie groans when he walks in. “Are you making the pork?”
“I’m trying,” Steve grumbles, frowning at the pan. “‘S not working. It’s not getting crispy like it should.”
Eddie walks closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and nuzzling the side of his head. “Looks amazing,” he murmurs. “And smells even better.”
Steve sighs. “I just wish it was easier for me.”
“You don’t have to do this, baby.”
“But I know you love it.”
“I mean, yeah. But I love anything you cook, Steve. Or anything you call in. It’s the effort, y’know? Even when you don’t have the energy for anything but calling in pizza.”
Steve smiles. “You’re a sap, y’know that?”
Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s neck. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been down bad for you for a while, baby.”
“Yeah?” Steve tilts his head to allow Eddie better access. “How long?”
Eddie hums, moving down Steve’s neck, worrying his collarbone. “Probably since the demobat, Big Boy.”
Steve moans as Eddie sucks a mark high on his neck, just beneath his ear. “Yeah?” He asks, high and breathy.
Eddie turns the heat off. “Yeah.” A little bite to Steve’s earlobe as his hand creeps around to the front of Steve’s jeans. “Lemme show you?”
Steve pants. “Dinner-”
“Can wait,” Eddie growls. “I want you tonight, baby.”
“Whoa, I'm in another city. I got nobody with me. And it just really hit me.”
“Hey, baby,” someone croons. Eddie thinks he recognizes her from the last stop on the tour.
“Um… hi?”
She giggles. “So coy. You don’t have to play like that with me, baby.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m not your baby.”
“Well, no,” she admits. “But you could be. Or I could be yours, if you’re more into being a Daddy.” She runs teasing fingers up Eddie’s arm.
He jerks his arm away. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m really not looking-”
“Not yet you’re not,” she says.
“I don’t even know what that means- look, lady, I don’t want anything, okay?”
“Oh, come on, now-”
“I said no,” he says, harsher than he maybe should have, for the way she steps backs in shock. “Please leave,” he continues, gentler. “Or I’ll call security. And I don’t want to have to do that.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “You could’ve had a great lay.”
“I have a great lay,” he shoots back. “And I’m not willing to sacrifice it for a meaningless one-night-stand.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re a great lady. But I’ve got my other half at home.”
“Your other half?” Steve interrupts over the phone, delight evident in his voice. “Christ, Eds, you’re a sap, I miss you so fuckin’ much.”
“I know, baby, I miss you too, now I was in the middle of a story.”
“That I quite miss home, and I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry when the rain falls down on the window, while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV.”
“Baby,” Eddie yells inside, “It’s raining lynxes and wolves!”
Steve laughs from the laundry room. “Why can’t you just say cats and dogs?”
“Because,” he stresses, “it’s not. It’s raining so hard, babe, it’s perfect couch-cuddling weather, can we watch a movie? Please?”
Steve smiles. “Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm. Labyrinth is in the player already.”
Eddie stills, staring at Steve, for a solid thirty seconds. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. Steve grins and steals a kiss.
“Go get the food,” he says. “I’ll be there in just a minute, just gotta finishing moving this stuff from the washer to the dryer.”
He does, and Steve does, and soon the dirty dishes are abandoned on the coffee table and their feet are tucked up on the couch. Steve’s leaning on Eddie and Eddie’s hand is under his shirt, not for anything suggestive, simply just to feel.
He kisses Steve’s head with a content sigh, and Steve tilts his head back to look at him. “What’s up?”
“Y’know this is one of the things I miss the most when I’m touring?”
Steve smiles. “Just sitting watching a movie?”
“Well, anything with you, actually. But yeah. No expectations, just the movie, and the rain, and just. Us.”
Steve smiles and kisses his jaw. “This is one of the things I miss most when you’re on tour, too.”
“Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home. And I quite miss home. Yeah, I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor and the dirt drives you crazy. Oh, I just miss home, no, no, 'cause it feels like poetry, as the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms and we're watching the TV. Oh, I miss home, yeah, I quite miss home, no. Oh, I quite miss home. Yeah, yeah, I quite miss home.”
The last strum reverberates through the silent auditorium. Then, an anguished groan. “What the fuck, why are you perfect?”
Eddie laughs along with the rest of the crowd. “That’s quite the compliment, but no, my sweetheart will be the first to tell you I’m anything but perfect.”
Three and a half weeks later, Steve slams into him as he’s walking into the house. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Hi, baby.”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, “fuck you and your song, I swear to God, Eds-” he tugs on Eddie’s shirt, pulling him away from the door, and Eddie chuckles.
“Baby, my shoes, the floors-”
“Fuck your shoes,” Steve growls. “Fuck the floors. If I’m not naked in bed in the next thirty seconds-”
Eddie grins and picks him up. “Say no more,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear, taking purposeful strides toward the bedroom.
As he kicks the door shut, he has one thought: This is my favorite part of coming home.
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Also tagging @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup because I figure you might like it ❤️
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estrellami-1 · 3 months
Text
The Easiest Thing (I’ve Ever Done)
Had an idea. I don’t know if it’s anything, or if it makes any sense, but I like it. I hope y’all do too!
The camera’s shaky, moving from Eddie trying to place his phone down, making sure to keep his face in frame. “Baby,” he sings, looking off-camera. “Would you peel me an orange?”
A slight pause before, “Hypothetical or literal?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. Literal?”
“How many do you want?”
Eddie gapes. “Just- just like that? No teasing? Nothing about me being capable? Nothing at all?”
“It’s an orange, babe. ‘S not like me carrying you out of-”
Eddie scrambles for his phone, and the video cuts off.
It picks up again later. They’re in the living room now, and Eddie’s filming Steve, who had just asked him a question. “Say it again.”
“Say-?”
“The question you just asked me. Ask me again.”
Steve gestures to the TV. “We just watched 50 First Dates, Eds, I don’t think it’s crazy of me to ask if you’d do that for me.”
“Stevie. Baby. Light of my life. Look me in my eyes and ask me again. But before you do, think about two years ago when you got a concussion and the resulting short-term amnesia.”
Steve closes his eyes and leans his head back with a groan. “I’m an idiot.”
“Are not,” Eddie says hotly, and the video cuts off again.
It picks up again later. It’s dark in the room, and Eddie’s got his finger to his lips, as if he’s telling the audience to be quiet. “Say that again, baby?”
Steve mumbles something unintelligible, then, “The elephant’s back.”
“Yeah? What’s it doing?”
The camera moves to focus on Steve’s face. He’s clearly still asleep, even as he frowns. “He’s proposing. ‘S my job.”
“Your job?”
“Mhm. ‘M gonna do it.” Another frown. “Screw you, elephant.”
The camera jumps to Eddie, who’s got a hand covering his mouth. The video cuts off again.
It picks up again later. Eddie’s in the same position as the first part of the video. There’s background sounds—rushing water and clanking porcelain—that means Steve’s washing dishes.
“I feel like you’re mad at me.”
The clanking stops. The water shuts off. “What?”
Eddie shrugs. “You’ve been kinda tense ever since I got home.”
“Baby,” Steve whispers. “No. No, I’m not mad at you. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I’ve just got a lot in my head right now.”
Eddie nods. “Can I help?”
Steve hums. “You can listen.”
Eddie smiles. “I can do that.”
“Okay, cool.” The water turns back on. “So I was talking to Robin earlier-”
The video cuts off again.
It picks up again later. They’re back on the couch, but this time Steve’s engrossed in a book, lips silently moving as he reads. “Baby.”
“Hm?”
“You mouth the words to yourself when you read.”
Steve flushes scarlet. “Shuddup.”
“No!” Eddie laughs. “No, I love it! It’s adorable!”
“You don’t.” He sniffs, but does nothing to hide the smile on his face. “It’s not.”
“It is,” Eddie argues back, camera jumping around as he shifts to sit up. “And I’ll prove it.”
“Yeah? How?”
“Uh. That part I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out!”
“Mhm.” Steve’s lips twitch up at the corners.
“I’m serious.”
“Mhm.”
“I love every part of you.”
Steve’s smile softens into something lovesick. “I know.”
“Especially the parts you don’t like.”
Steve groans and covers his face with the book, and Eddie chuckles as he turns the camera off.
The last time it picks up, Steve’s the one setting it up. “Babe?” He calls.
“Yeah?”
“Would you love me if I was a worm?”
“If you were a worm?”
“Yeah. Would you love me.”
Eddie walks into frame to grab Steve’s hands and hold them. “My darling,” he murmurs, “I fall more in love with you every day. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done and the easiest decision I’ll ever make. And I make it every day, I have for years now. If you were a worm, I’d build you the best little worm house. I’d do all the research and find out what you can eat, and I’d always have that. I’d learn to speak worm so I could talk to you.” He lifts one of Steve’s hands to his lips. “If you were a worm? Baby, I’d love you more than any worm’s ever been loved before.”
“Oh,” Steve squeaks.
Eddie presses a brief kiss to his lips before pulling away. “Why don’t you turn the camera off and come join me upstairs?”
Steve gapes even as he reaches for his phone. “You absolute asshole-”
“I meant every word, baby. Let me show you how much?”
Steve flounders, and the video cuts off for the last time.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
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