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#steddie headcanon
plistommy · 15 hours
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Eddie likes to draw a lot.
He doodles on everything, his school books, magazines, his guitars or even his own hands.
He drew his tattoos for himself before getting them.
Steve thinks he’s really talented, and loves to stare at Eddie drawing for hours, but Eddie is still a bit shy about it, so Steve doesn’t sometimes get to see what he has drawn.
But one day when he was going to Eddie’s room to get his boyfriend's hoodie for himself - thanks to winter and its cold weather - he accidentally knocked Eddie’s sketchbook to the floor.
Couple of pages dropped out of it and as they were all spread out, Steve realized they were all drawings.
Drawings of him.
He crunched down to pick them up, but couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay and before he knew it, he was going through all of them.
Eddie made him look so… pretty.
He drew his face, his smile, his eyes so beautifully that Steve couldn’t even believe that the drawing’s were of him. Eddie even remembered all of his moles.
A dopey smile creeped up to his face as he went through them all, piling them back into a neat pile to put back inside the sketchbook. But when he picked up the last one, his eyes grew wide and he felt himself going red from head to toe.
There were several sketches of him, of his nude body with ringed hands, Eddie’s hands, touching him. One was of him laid on his stomach with a soft look on his face, but then the second one was more… intimate.
It was of him, legs spread wide and dick resting thick and hard on his stomach while a finger was pushing inside him. His face was scrunched up, mouth open in a ‘o’ shape and the knowledge that Steve probably looked like that when Eddie was doing it for him made him bite down onto his bottom lip.
He flipped the paper around and a whine got caught in his throat as he stared down to a drawing of him riding Eddie.
They had never done that before. But now, he really, really wanted to do it.
”Steve?”
Steve’s head snapped up to stare at Eddie, who was staring down back at him with a worried look.
He was leaning against the door frame, hair up in a ponytail and old band shirt on, looking like a dream, but when he saw what was going on, his eyes grew wide.
”Shit, sorry!” he panicked, crunching down next to Steve. He snatched the drawings and his sketchbook away from him and hid them under his mixtapes, acting like Steve hadn’t already seen all of them.
He was letting out these small apologies and Steve had no idea what he had to even apologize for, but when he saw Eddie blushing and not being able to catch his eyes, Steve understood that he was embarrassed.
”I didn’t, um - you didn’t mean to see those… sorry.”
Steve just stared at him dumbfoundedly before letting out a soft laugh and getting up. He moved his hands to Eddie’s face and held them there.
”I dropped it accidentally and I was the one snooping around, Eddie. I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you.”
Eddie sighed. He still couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes and it made him frown.
”You’re not creeped out?”
That question surprised Steve.
”Of the drawings? No, Eds. I think they’re cool.”
Then, Eddie finally looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes ever and Steve wanted to kiss him.
”You sure? I didn’t know what you’d think about them. I know they're a bit—”
”Amazing? Incredible?” Steve smiled softly and pushed Eddie’s bangs back, ”You’re so talented, babe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself like the way you draw me. I like it.”
Eddie looked like he was offended and pinched Steve’s hip, ”You are really pretty, sweetheart” he reassured Steve with a smile.
”Yeah, yeah. Says you.” Steve smiled and Eddie snorted a little before leaning in to kiss him.
When they pulled apart, both out of breath, a small grin grew to Steve’s face as he tugged Eddie’s hair, letting it fall out from it’s lazy ponytail.
”I have an idea…”
”And what’s that?”
Steve grinned more.
”Can I ride you?”
Eddie’s breath hitched and Steve laughed loudly as his boyfriend looked at him like he’d grown another head.
He loved to rile his boyfriend up, and this was the perfect time for that.
”You… really?” Eddie sounded so out of breath, more than he was before.
”I think it would look pretty great, right?” Steve purred, glancing towards the hidden pile of drawings, Eddie’s gaze following his.
All Eddie could do was answer a breathy ’Fuck yeah’ before Steve was pushing him down to the bed and straddling his hips.
Eddie didn’t hide his drawings anymore after that.
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jewishrat420 · 3 months
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
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steddielations · 7 months
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I love the idea of rockstar Eddie having a stage persona so it’s easier for him and Steve to have a private life. Not a total alias but a stage name and Eddie wears big dark sunglasses and a bandana over his hair every time he performs or does press so he’s not easy to spot without it.
This leads to pictures going around twitter sometimes where Eddie’s dressed normally while out with Steve and it’s like “I saw some old guy and his husband at home depot having a sword fight with some wooden planks. cute couple.”
There’s always a comment that goes viral saying something like “by some old guy do you mean Eddie freaking Munson”
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shares-a-vest · 15 days
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Eddie begins making a Hellfire t-shirt and declares it is for Steve.
The Corroded Coffin boys oscillate between teasing and confused horror. Dustin is annoyed that it is Eddie who has managed to convince Steve to finally join a campaign, while Lucas is elated and beyond excited.
Mike and Will of course, do everything in their power to stop such a nightmare, including some ill-conceived scheming that is thwarted at every turn by Lucas.
But they needn't worry.
Because Eddie is just simply making Steve a Hellfire t-shirt to sleep in. It's a size too big. He paid extra for the softest cotton and it has short sleeves and a loose scoop neck so it doesn't scratch Steve's scar.
All so Steve can get a cozy night's sleep.
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adelicioustragedy · 2 years
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Murray looking at Eddie and Steve while they shamelessly flirt: Jesus Christ another one
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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months
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thinking of Eddie going completely incoherent whenever Steve casually changes his shirt in front of him.
they're hanging out in the Harrington house and they realize they need stuff to cook dinner so Eddie trails after Steve just talking his ear off as Steve gets ready and he's mid-sentence when Steve changes his shirt and he just sort of short-circuits from where he's sitting on Steve's bed. it's like one second there's no chest hair and the next there's so much of it and Eddie just-
"yeah we need the burger buns for sure. also remind me to get a- this um, the where uh, not um want, no, and he uh, he didn't tell me what it was"
Steve gives him a puzzled look "wh- who? what?"
Eddie blinks, looking lost "I uh- I think I forgot what i was saying"
and Steve just goes "oh. ok :)" and starts discussing other stuff about their shopping list, completely oblivious. no matter how many times it has happened already.
later, after they get together, Eddie will just straight up stop talking and if possible he'll lean his chin on his hand and just happily watch Steve be shirtless for a bit.
he'll say stuff like "you have great tits. you should be allowed to do whatever you want"
and Steve will preen a little and say "I agree." before giving Eddie a small kiss that Eddie accepts like it's the most precious gift <3
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mimixmunson · 1 month
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Imagine Steve finding out Eddie’s birth name is actually Theodore and he insists on calling him Theodore for a week straight as revenge for the many times Eddie has called him Steven.
Theodore turns to ‘Theodorable’ just to make Eddie roll his eyes, but then he just calls him Theo for a while and Eddie is really growing sick of it. To the point where he’s got Steve pinned to the wall growling in his ear about how “pretty boys usually have manners.”
Steve feeling as bratty as ever responds with “Yes Theodore anything for you Theodore.” <3
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year
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Gareth is in charge of the Corroded Coffin official TikTok account, being the only one who actually uses social media on a daily basis.
He's playing Fuck Marry Kill with the three random celebrities generator and trying to make the other guys join as well.
When it's Eddie's turn, he's having none of it "they're just gonna get mad at me because I know no one! let me live in peace!"
Gareth insists until he shoves the phone in Eddie's face, giving him no chance to escape. The filter generates three pictures on top of Eddie's face.
"I have no fucking clue who these people-" he stops talking as his eyes focus on the last picture, it's a man around his age with voluminous hair and beautiful features. Eddie pulls the phone up close, ripping it out of Gareth's hand, to have a better look.
"you okay man?" Gareth asks, out of frame.
"Kiss, have sex with, marry, and adopt a puppy with him," he says, pointing at the guy on the screen "kill the other two."
"That's not how you play man, the fuck??" Gareth appears in frame and looks at the celebrities "you mean the third guy? are you serious?"
Eddie glares at him sideways "have you fucking seen him? he's a fucking-" but the video is cut off by the time limit.
The most liked comment under the video is by none other than famous baseball player Steve Harrington:
"I'm more of a cat type, but how about we discuss it over dinner? ;)"
--
More of this story here
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loveinhawkins · 29 days
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What really gets me about Eddie’s quip to Steve in the RV is that yeah, it’s flirtatious, but that’s not really the full point to me; it’s more that Eddie feels comfortable enough to be making the comment in the first place.
Their talk in the woods is the catalyst for the RV scene. They both start off awkward, both still feeling their way around how to strike up a friendship. Eddie’s especially testing the waters, he takes a chance when he leans in, jokes about being, “Still super jealous as hell by the way,” and you can see him relaxing when Steve just laughs.
And isn’t that itself a miracle? To take a chance and have it work out. To gain, in the middle of a nightmare, someone you can find the fun with.
Maybe the RV scene is Eddie taking one more chance, flirting half disguised as a joke. Maybe it’s a miracle that he’s even teasing at all, that he’s found enough fleeting, tentative joy to do so—and it’s partly thanks to a walk in the woods, and Steve Harrington’s laughter.
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starrystevie · 9 months
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it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.
the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.
it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."
then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."
then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."
that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.
"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."
but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.
'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.
if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.
if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.
"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.
for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-
the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."
eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.
"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.
three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.
it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.
he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.
"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"
there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.
"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"
eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.
"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."
eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.
he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.
"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."
"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.
"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."
eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?
but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.
and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.
eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.
"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.
it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.
there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."
"holy shit."
it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.
"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"
choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-
"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."
he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.
"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"
and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.
"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.
"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."
eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."
steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.
"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."
"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."
he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."
eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.
"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.
"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.
"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.
"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"
the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.
and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.
"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."
it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.
"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."
"...are you bribing me, harrington?"
"is it working?"
eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.
"of course it is."
the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.
"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"
it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.
he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.
"lucky indeed."
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plistommy · 2 days
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Steve and Eddie are definitely the annoying couple who keeps making out in front of everyone because they can’t keep their hands off of each other for too long.
Like, it’s a movie night for example and not even twenty minutes in and Steve’s already sitting on Eddie’s lap as they make out and let these small giggles that makes everyone hiss at them to shut the fuck up.
And when they play DnD, everyone real focused, there comes Steve bringing everyone some snacks and sodas and lord behold their beloved Master is already up and going to hug him like they weren’t just in the middle of a campaign.
Dustin gives them shit for it the most, but he secretly really loves them together. He just likes to be a dick.
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xoxoladyaz · 1 year
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Wayne Munson only gives Steve his blessing once he realizes that since dating Steve, the amount of fruits and vegetables that Eddie consumes on a weekly basis has skyrocketed. (Eddie doesn’t know that he’s eating fruits and veggies because Steve hides them in the meals he makes like he does with the kids.) When Eddie does finally realizes what Steve’s done, he has a meltdown that rivals Mike when he’s cut off from calling El. It’s only when Steve points out that Eddie is being a real Mike about it that Eddie settles down and starts acting like an adult (re: complains unceasingly to Gareth about it until Gareth finally tells him that if he isn’t going to appreciate everything Steve does for him then Gareth is going to steal his man.)
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steddielations · 21 days
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After Eddie's music takes off in a big way, he decides to have a show in Hawkins because it’s still his hometown where he grew up, despite his awful reputation there. It's controversial, the town still hates him and he gets a bottle thrown at his head. So of course, Eddie does the rockstar thing and plays with blood dripping down his face and chest and all over his shirt.
Meanwhile in the crowd, Steve, father of two that never left Hawkins, came to Eddie’s show because he knew it would be a spectacle that he didn’t want to miss. Now, not only are his dad instincts going off to check Eddie's head injury, but he thinks he's having some kinda awakening because a guy covered in blood playing guitar shouldn't be so hot
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navnae · 1 year
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I foam at the mouth every time I see this clip, the fact that Eddie started stuttering when Steve leaned in is killing me as we speak 😖
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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months
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Eddie would come up with the most elaborate schemes to kiss Steve for the first time.
here's mine: He realizes Steve is a gossip early on, like the first time they all hang out someone mentions a rumour in passing and Steve latches on. Eddie is delighted. He's enamoured by the twinkle in Steve's eyes and the intensity in his probing, even the enthusiasm in giving out the information he has about the people in question.
So Eddie knows what he has to do.
Whenever Eddie sees or hears something that frankly should not be any of his business he makes sure to tell Steve. He doesn't mention it to anybody else and most of the time he doesn't care about it much, but he needs to tell Steve.
And he only does it when it's just the two of them. He finds Steve in a secluded corner of the Family Video, says "i think my boss is cheating on his wife" and is rewarded with a gasp.
He follows after Steve when he goes to refill the popcorn in the middle of movie night and casually asks "you know who I saw the other day coming out of Laura's house at 3am?" Steve raises his eyebrows higher than Eddie has ever seen.
He calls Steve at midnight on a Wednesday and opens with "my neighbors are definitely getting back together" Steve answers with a devastated "noooo!"
He leaves the kids in the cookie aisle to go catch up to Steve and lean on the shopping cart shoulder to shoulder and whisper "dont look now, but Heather and Monica are here together, right behind us. They ARE dating" Steve looks immediately.
And Eddie's not only excited about his initial reactions, but he thanks the heavens for his discovery because it gets him Steve's total, undivided attention every.fucking.time. without fail.
Steve turns fully to him, touches Eddie's arms for emphasis, shoves him when Eddie says something dumb, tugs on a strand of his hair a bit when Eddie says something silly, opens his eyes SO wide or squints at him and his eyelashes look sooo pretty. Steve leans in and whispers back and grins and teases and scrunches his nose in the most adorable gesture Eddie has ever seen in his life.
With practice, Eddie goes from having to give Steve's shoulder a back handed slap to get his attention, to just looking at him directly for like 5 seconds and then Steve knows Eddie has something to tell him.
so he does it at dinner, on a nondescript date at a nondescript hour because, mostly, Eddie just kinda can't take it anymore.
He's listening to Steve tell this story about a costumer and frankly, forgets to look away from him and Steve interprets this as Eddie having something to say. He cuts himself off, tilts his head and asks "what?" with mirth in his voice.
Eddie smiles, a little mischievous and says "c'mere I have to tell you something"
Steve smiles back, but says "we're the only ones here, Eds" gesturing to his kitchen.
Eddie rolls his eyes a bit and threatens "do you want me to tell you or not?"
Steve leans across the table, his cut off tank almost touching their spaghetti.
Eddie wants to shove his hands through the armpit holes, but he settles for holding Steve's jaw and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
Steve's lips are as soft and warm as he expected, he tastes of the red sauce they cooked together and he smells good enough to eat. Eddie indulges in a thorough kiss but keeps it short.
No matter how many times Steve looks at him like he's the most interesting person in the room, he hasn't outright said that he likes Eddie like that, so he'd rather be careful.
Eddie pulls back and finds Steve smiling, his eyes closed still.
Steve blinks his eyes open and looks at Eddie, his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips and he says "I think that's the best one you've told me yet"
Eddie snorts and feels his cheeks burn "Yeah?" he asks.
"Mmhm" Steve confirms against his lips, already kissing Eddie again.
It takes a while, but eventually Eddie realizes Steve doesn't only give him his undivided attention when he has gossip. He does it pretty much all the time.
Maybe at some point it expanded to everything Eddie has to say.
Or maybe it was like that all along.
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mimixmunson · 2 months
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Steve wears one of Eddie’s guitar picks as a necklace 24/7. No matter what. Even if it doesn’t go with his outfit, even if he’s going to a funeral. The orange pick will always be round his neck. Eddie fiddles with it when they’re laying together in the evening. It’s like a little promise ring for him.
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