#thisapplepielife: short fic
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.
Sprung
Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Struggling to Make Ends Meet, Light Angst, Sacrifice, Love, Making a Life Together
"Steve, please," Eddie says, and Steve stills.
"I thought you were asleep?" Steve whispers in the dark, and Eddie's not sure why Steve's trying to be quiet at this point. They're both awake now. Steve's made sure of that.
"I was," Eddie huffs out, annoyed, because he had been. But Steve's constant flopping around has ruined that. Steve's become the world's shittest sleeper lately, and that's not exactly ideal in a bed partner.
"Sorry," Steve says, stilling, "I'll try to stop moving around."
Eddie just mutters something that he hopes passes as a thanks, and rolls back over. He has to get up at six, and he fucking needs his four hours. That's not too much to ask for, goddamnit.
Steve's still for a few minutes, but then rolls over in his sleep, again, and the whole bed shifts and shakes. Again. Eddie's had enough, and snags his pillow off the bed, padding down the hallway to crash on the couch. He's exhausted. He can't do this tonight. He can't.
He still wakes up tired, because it was too cold in the living room. Their shitty radiators either don't work, or boil you. No middle ground. Fucking shithole. But it's the best they can do for now, since they're barely keeping their heads above water, as is. Working just to live. It's been hard. Harder than Eddie expected, and he grew up with fucking hard.
He'd hoped they'd be past that now, hoped he'd finally catch a goddamn break.
Of course not.
It's the Munson curse.
And now Eddie's in a bad mood, even as Steve's pouring coffee into Wayne's old thermos for him, packing Eddie's metal lunchbox, to keep him going on the jobsite all day.
"Thanks," Eddie says, taking it, and Steve just nods silently, clearly aware Eddie's in a mood this morning.
Eddie worries they're circling the drain, from circumstances alone. It's not a love problem, it's a life problem, and that makes it worse.
And before long, Eddie realizes he broke the seal, having introduced a new wedge between them. Now that the couch is in play, they aren't even sleeping in the same bed most nights anymore. Steve will go, or he will, and now they're sleeping apart more nights a week than they sleep together. Maybe they're getting more rest, but they're also growing even further apart.
Today, Eddie's coffee and lunch are on the counter, but Steve's already in the shower, and their ten minutes together in the morning are gone.
Just like that.
Eddie grabs his work boots from the closet, flopping down on Steve's side of the bed to put them on, and he's suddenly assaulted, poked right in the ass by whatever Steve's left laying on the mattress.
Standing up, he's sliding his hand over the bed in the dark to see what the fuck he sat on. Nothing. He yanks the sheets back, and there's still nothing, so he strips it further.
It's a spring.
And it's threatening to fully poke through, probably right where Steve's back rests. Goddammit. No wonder Steve can't fucking hold still at night. He's being tortured, Eddie thinks, as he presses his hand against the spring, feeling it bite into his hand.
A rogue mattress spring.
That's what's divided them, broke them down.
Eddie sits back down, lets the spring dig into his ass, and holds his head in hands. He's not gonna cry. He doesn't have time. He has to go to work. But goddamn this.
He's still sitting there when Steve comes in and is rifling through the closet, "You okay?"
"No," Eddie says.
Steve walks over and puts the back of his hand on Eddie's forehead and Eddie laughs, wetly.
"You don't feel hot," Steve declares.
"No, I don't," Eddie mutters, because damn, he fucking doesn't feel hot at all. He feels broken down and worn out.
He reaches up and catches Steve's hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.
"I'm sorry about the mattress. I didn't know," Eddie says, looking up at him.
"It's okay, I'm used to it," Steve says, and he rubs his fingers against the top of Eddie's head.
"You shouldn't have to be," Eddie says, dejected.
Steve Harrington chose him, loves him, and Eddie can't even give him a bed to sleep on that isn't trying to pierce his spleen every night.
They can't afford a new one, not right now, and Eddie hates that he can't fix this.
"We'll flip it," Eddie offers.
"Then it'll have the crater on your side again," Steve says with a laugh. And yeah, Eddie'd forgotten they flipped it last year, after his side started breaking down. Sucking him inward, like a gate into the Upside Down.
That doesn't matter.
"Well, that's gotta be better than this," Eddie admits, bouncing a little. Anything would be better than this torture device.
Steve kneels between Eddie's open thighs, "It's okay, Eddie."
It's not.
"I'm sorry I was being a jerk. I didn't know," Eddie says.
"I know you didn't," Steve answers, "I didn't want you to worry."
Eddie brushes Steve's hair off his forehead, "I'm still sorry. I love you. You know that, right?"
Steve grins, and it's blinding, "Always. Work now, worry about the mattress later."
Eddie nods, smiles, and when Steve moves from between his knees, Eddie leans over and laces up his boots. Ready to start another day.
That evening, when Eddie pulls into the driveway, Wayne's truck is parked behind Steve's car. Eddie hadn't realized Wayne was coming, and grins. This day just got way better.
Eddie plows into the house, and finds Steve in the bedroom, a pair of needle nose pliers dug into a small hole they've cut in the mattress, trying to bend the spring back into its original position. Wayne's standing there, talking Steve through the temporary fix, until they can afford something better.
It's gonna be okay, Eddie realizes. They're just a little bent out of shape right now. A little sprung.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#spring#steddie#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#future fic#good uncle wayne munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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🌸 writing patterns 🌸
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
ty for the tag @jamiethegardener55 i love this!!
There’s a dead rat on his doorstep. [i don’t know, you figure it out]
“Shit’s been… weird, since the gates opened,” Steve says, looking down at his wrist watch. [plot holes]
Steve’s gonna kill Dustin. [troll toll]
It starts as a joke. [biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!]
“Please explain to me,” Eddie huffs as he drops a box full of random prop shit and wipes the sweat from his bangs with a damp sleeve, “how it is that I finally manage to graduate and I still cannot rid myself of this godforsaken place?” [it was love, love alone]
“‘Not the kind of charm we need,’” Steve mutters derisively to himself for the tenth time that day as they pull up to the cemetery curb. [the kind of charm we need]
“Gentlemen.” [nine of diamonds]
Steve’s at the bottom of the pool. [at the bottom you’ll find all our friends]
Steve wipes the sweat from his brow and collapses back onto the rug with an exhausted groan. [Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!]
Eddie Munson is… too fuckin’ high. [blue dream]
sick so apparently i love a good short sentence or a line of dialogue with an “as he (blah blah blah)” action tag
extremely high pressure tags @steddie-island @runninriot @cranberrymoons @thisapplepielife @morningberriesao3 @jewishrat420 @beetlesandstarss
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✨WIP Wednesday Game✨
Not tagged by anyone but it seemed fitting after wrapping up my longest fic ever today to jump right into working hard on my remaining wips!
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
• The Crawl
• dnd campaign au (life is a game)
• No Vacancy - Steddie/Buckingham
• Spicy Six Winter - fire alarm
• RBB (no snippets allowed but feel free to make me work on my reverse big bang!)
(no summer camp fic this time friends, she's on hold until after the holidays because she's too distracting!)
Snippet from Pt. 2 of The Crawl (posting tomorrow!)
Steve had finally looked away, eyes on the horizon where a small grouping of bats was quickly making its way towards them, but at those words his gaze snapped back to Eddie’s again. He stepped closer, reaching out like he meant to touch him, but stopped just short of it.
Eddie suddenly wished he’d thought to clean himself up before coming here. He probably still had blood on his face.
He shook his head at himself.
There wasn’t time for this. None of it mattered, he wasn’t important. What mattered was the future, and making sure that Steve and everyone else had one.
part 1 of The Crawl here or on ao3
some no pressure tags for fun and visibility: @penny00dreadful @withacapitalp @manda-panda-monium @thisapplepielife @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @cranberrymoons @hitlikehammers @imfinereallyy @pearynice @shares-a-vest @steddiejudas @vegasol @estrellami-1 @miraculousmultifan @hornedqueenofhell
#wip wednesday game#wip snippet#steddie fanfic#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#fanfic#steddie#steve harrington/eddie munson
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✨fic writing review 2023
thank you for the tags @mojowitchcraft @oh-stars @rindecision and @wynnyfryd!
my goal for 2024 is going to be writing and finishing my fics for the Reverse Bang and then after that i have a few ideas up my sleeve that i might use for a bang or just for fun 😊
stats
(everyone has done this a little differently so i'm just doing whatever i want)
140,270 words published on ao3
57 works published (mostly short stuff! it's been a year of one shots and microfic)
19 works and 62,220 words (almost half my total!) went to the future fic series, with a couple more short things coming in the next few weeks
2 current wips on ao3 (the seas be ours and back in the new york groove)
28 songs on my spotify wrapped that I know for a fact are only there because of specific things I was writing at the time
top fics by kudos
get it off your chest (rated e || 7,415 words)
can't start a fire (rated t || 3,231 words)
so fondly today (rated e || 8,272 words)
something so pretty (rated m || 3,087 words)
i carry this feeling (rated t || 860 words)
2023 fic events
@steddiemicrofic – 14 works posted this year – ao3 || tumblr
@steddieholidaydrabbles – 10 works with more coming throughout december – ao3 || tumblr
kinktober – 14 works posted on ao3
@steddieholidayexchange – gift fic posting on Dec 16!
@steddievember – the sweetest thing
discord drabbles – 9 works posted this year – ao3 || tumblr
upcoming 2024 fic events
@strangerthingsreversebigbang – 2 fics posting in march-april that i'm very excited about!
@steddiesummerexchange – posting in june
more microfic and drabble events, i love writing them!
rules & tags below the cut!
Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.
tags: I'm sure so many people have already done this!! if so, feel free to ignore me 🤪 as always, no pressure: @starryeyedjanai @thefreakandthehair @shares-a-vest @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @thisapplepielife
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from this WIP weekend post!!
you guys overwhelmingly voted for more of the rockstar!eddie x sailor!steve full fic(let)/oneshot so here are the 42(!!!) sentences i ended up writing for it! (and seriously, thank you @thisapplepielife for tagging me!! this is the most i've gotten done on a lot of these wips in a while!)
“Was hard enough driving it around these skinny-ass roads.”
Eddie snorts as that, “Don’t think I didn’t feel the scrape you gave that Beetle back there, Earl.”
“It’s not my fault! These roads are tiny and there’s people parked everywhere!”
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, man,” Eddie chuckles, shuffling out after the other boys, “Don’t fall in.”
They head toward the little gatehouse at the front of the pier where their manager, Chrissy, is standing beside a sailor in the Navy’s digital blue camo uniform.
The girl in uniform looks particularly baby-faced (given she must be at least old enough to enlist), and the bright white “U.S. NAVY” stamped across the front of her bulletproof vest matches Chrissy’s pantsuit.
It makes Eddie sweat just looking at her, even with how pleasant the weather actually is.
“You not coming with us, Chris?” Gareth asks.
“Nah, I’m going to sit and wait in the car, I have quite a few calls to make anyhow.” she waves him off, “Maybe I can convince Earl to take me up to the food court. I could really go for some ice cream.”
She waves them off, shooing them towards the sailor waiting on them, and marches off back across the narrow road to their car.
“Okay, listen up.” Erica calls out to the four of them, pulling their attention to her easily. “I am going to escort you down the pier and you will both stay out of others’ way, and watch your step.”
She beckons them through the tall turnstile gate as she speaks, following close behind. “There shouldn’t be anything laying out on the deck, as a rule, but watch it regardless.”
As promised, she escorts them down the flat concrete pier, herding them with short warnings as they go, for whatever hazard may be in their way.
Despite the watching where he’s going he should be doing, Eddie can’t help but gawk up at the huge ships on either side of the wide spanse of concrete. They tower protectively over the sailors throwing heavy ropes around like they’re nothing, the ones helping unload cargo vans of their equipment, and those that seem to just be having fun laughing and fucking around.
The ship on their left (with the matching hull number as on Erica’s ballcap) is onloading supplies from the pier in systematic line over the deceptively narrow strip of water between it and the vessel, each of the wildly different people in the line swinging box after box between them up the steep steel ramp and out of sight onto the deck.
The ship on their right is only two numbers above the Berthold, and is the one they will be touring. The USS William B. Franke (DDG-63).
There’s less happening on it's side of the pier, only a few folks coming and going. There’s a small group of four standing at the bottom of the Franke's ramp, a pair in street clothes that look to be heading off for the day, and there’s a taller sailor with a long ponytail who’s just hefted a heavy-looking piece of equipment onto their shoulder and is climbing across the bridge to the ship.
They troop along behind the commander, following him up and around a couple bends in the halls to his office.
“Come on in, gentlemen; have a seat, please.” Brenner gestures them inside past a wooden desk to a low L-shaped couch fixated in the far corner of the office.
They plop down onto the squeaky brown pleather, Chief Bonne taking up another chair in a corner, Master Chief Williams sinks down into the seat at the end of the couch, and the captain wheels his desk chair to the other side of the small round coffee table, sitting opposite the group.
MAC Hopper stands against the door, out of the way.
“Apologies, gentlemen," Brenner begins, "My Executive Officer is out of country at the moment, so he’s unable to meet with you today, but he’ll be back by time we get underway again.”
“Of course, no worries here, sir.” Jeff waves him off, unnecessarily, “When are you setting sail?”
“We’ll be taking off in a week.”
“Only about half our sailors’ families are coming along,” Master Chief cuts in, “So we’ll have the room for you all to stay aboard while we’re underway, but you’ll have to have a skeleton crew to film.”
The wheels in Eddie’s head are already turning, “How skeleton are we talking?”
“Oh, of course.” He says, visibly relieved, “Let me track down Lieutenant Creel; He’s a great kid, been a friend of the family since he was in diapers.”
Eddie’s already shaking his head. "No sir, I said your most competent."
The captain's smile turns sour, so Eddie continues. "Someone point me to THE second class. You know the one, does it a little bit of everything, doesn’t slow down, probably salty as hell… Where are they? I need an enlisted person…No offense to your Lieutenant, sir.”
you also voted a handful or more for each other idea so i will link below each of the other posts for each other set of votes/sentences of the other options below!
casper | destiel pt. 6 | idiot | date pt. 2 | vamp
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#corroded coffin#rockstar!eddie x sailor!steve#rockstar!eddie#sailor!steve#wip weekend#noelle writes
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic March challenge.
Five, Nine, Nine, Two
March Prompt: Pin | Word Count: 388 | Rating: G | CW: None | Tags: Established Relationship, Banter, Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Still Together, But Still Pushing Each Other's Buttons
"What do you mean you don't remember your PIN? You created it!" Steve yells, and Eddie just keeps moving in front of the computer. Pacing. Fretting. Worrying his hands.
"First off, I didn't pick it. They just gave it to me and I'm expected to remember it? It's, like, eight letters. Maybe some numbers. I don't know. I'm too old for this," Eddie rambles, staring at the computer screen. Like he can will it back to the forefront of his memory.
He doesn't remember. Can't. It's just gone, vaporized.
"You didn't write it down?" Steve snaps, digging around the cluttered desk, scattering a handful of crumpled Post-Its across the keyboard. "None of these are it?!"
"You told me to stop doing that, so I did!" Eddie argues back. Because Steve had forced him to stop writing down his passwords and PINs months ago, and now, well, this is what they have to show for it.
Eddie hums under his breath, trying to remember if he made up a little song about it or not. He does that sometimes. It helps.
"Stop singing under your breath and think!" Steve snaps, and Eddie waves his hands around his head, trying to get Steve to be quiet so he can concentrate.
"I am thinking!" Eddie yells, and then starts mumbling, singing under his breath, "Pineapple peach, dog frog, five-"
"Nine, nine, two…" Steve sings along with him, clearly annoyed, drawing out that two like it has seventeen letters instead of three. "You sang that stupid nonsense song all last week. I don't want it stuck in my head again, stop it!"
Eddie stops. Looks at Steve, "That's my password."
He taps the keyboard slowly, one hunt-and-pecked key at a time: PPDF5992.
And sure enough, they're in.
Steve kisses Eddie on the side of the head, then sits down, guiding the mouse cursor to the little applications message box that's lit up in the corner, indicating there's a response waiting.
"It's there," Steve says, mouse still hovering.
"Well, click it!" Eddie demands, putting both his hands on Steve's shoulders, squeezing, urging him on.
Steve clicks it.
Accepted.
Eddie shakes Steve's shoulders in excitement. They passed the home visit. The shelter is giving them a cat. And not just any cat, the most perfect cat Eddie has ever seen in his whole life.
I don't know why this was the first thing that came to mind, but it's definitely inspired by Marshall from How I Met Your Mother and his singing nonsense to remember his bar exam password.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficmarch#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Beautiful Boys
Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV
Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made.
But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.
Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.
Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.
"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.
"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.
"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?"
Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."
Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.
Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.
Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it.
If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.
Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."
Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."
Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"
Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.
"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little.
"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.
"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.
"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."
Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.
Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.
"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.
Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."
Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.
He will. Wayne just has to be patient.
"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted.
"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.
"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures.
Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.
When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.
"You don't have to do that," Steve says.
Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.
"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.
Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets.
"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.
"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.
And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.
Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover.
But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.
Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won.
So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.
Wayne knows that feeling well.
He's got two of those beautiful boys, now.
close your eyes,
have no fear,
the monster's gone,
he's on the run
and your daddy's here,
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
beautiful boy
John Lennon, Beautiful Boy
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#wayne adopts steve#wayne munson fic#good uncle wayne munson#wayne munson is always the best#wayne munson & steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles#Spotify
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Sleeping with Spiders
Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss
"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed.
There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway.
“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy.
Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.
Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room.
"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”
"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”
“Steve,” Steve offers.
“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”
They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.
Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.
Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.
They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend.
“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”
Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?”
“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine."
And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.
Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open.
Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with.
"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."
Steve nods, "That's cool."
"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds.
Steve points to himself, "Business."
"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous."
Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."
That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake.
"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday.
"I'm coming up!" Eddie says.
"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back.
"It's my bed!"
"I think not!"
"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!"
This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.
But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.
Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.
Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.
Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses.
“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.
Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”
Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here.
What else is new?
Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely.
Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face.
"This okay?" Steve asks.
Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this.
Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care.
He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now.
Eddie rolls on top of him.
Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?"
Eddie cackles, "No."
Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"
"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning.
Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#only one bed#college au#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic April challenge.
All Alone
April Prompt: Fool | Word Count: 454 | Rating: T | CW: Fear of Mortality, Prior Parental Loss, Prior (Unnamed) Health Problem, Anxiety | Tags: Eddie POV, Established Relationship, Long-Term Relationship, Steve Harrington and His High EQ, Beloved Wayne Munson, Everybody Lives, Happy Ending
The overhead light in the bedroom flickers on, and Eddie buries his head deeper into the pile of pillows on the bed.
He's not getting up.
"Eddie," Steve says, gently. Quietly.
"I'm fine," Eddie mutters from under the linens, but he's sure he's not very convincing.
"The hospital called," Steve says, and Eddie's whole body tenses with blinding, overwhelming fear. "Wayne can go home tomorrow. After lunch."
And it's good news. Something to celebrate. But something catches in his throat and he chokes out a sound, somewhere between a whine and a cry.
He's a grown man, unable to get out of bed, and he feels like a fool.
"He's fine," Steve says softly, sitting down on the bed, rubbing Eddie's back.
Sure, Wayne's fine. For now. But someday he won't be. Someday Eddie will be all alone, and the weight of that knowledge suffocates him. The fear of it. The inevitability.
His mom is dead. His dad is dead. He has no siblings. Grandparents, all dead. He has Wayne. That's it. That's all that's left of his family. Wayne, the only connection left to his childhood.
Wayne, keeper of the memories, answerer of the questions.
"Hey, remember when…"
And Wayne will remember.
"And what was…?"
And Wayne will know.
But Wayne will go someday, and he'll take those secrets with him.
Then, Eddie will have no family left.
"Eddie," Steve says, "talk to me."
And he can't.
He can't tell Steve, the love of his goddamn life, his family, this. Steve is his family. He is. They've chosen each other. Over and over, year after year.
Steve's his future.
But he's not his past. Not his beginnings, even as fucking rough as they might have been, more often than not.
"Honey, he's okay. I promise," Steve says gently.
It's foolish, this preemptive mourning. This wallowing.
"Wayne's gonna die someday, and I'll be all alone," Eddie chokes out, and he hopes Steve doesn't take it the wrong way.
He doesn't.
"I know how scary that is," Steve says, and Eddie relaxes. Steve probably does know. He's an only child, too. With only his mom left, now. It's scary.
Maybe they can be scared together.
A week later, Wayne's on the couch, recovering, and Eddie is buzzing around the room.
Steve's sitting right next to Wayne, notebook in hand. Taking extensive notes. An oral history.
Steve won't ever have been there, but he'll have Wayne's own words to reference.
"...and the little fool thought he could drive my car. Couldn't even reach the pedals. Rolled it right into the shed," Wayne says, and Steve laughs.
Eddie had forgotten that.
And Eddie smiles, standing in the kitchen, listening to his past share secrets with his future.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficapril#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Go With This
Prompt Day 30: New Year's Eve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Underage Drinking, Weed, Off-Screen Sex While Under the Influence | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, New Year's Eve Party, All the Teens, Kissing at Midnight, Getting Together, Morning After, Eddie POV
"Gareth, no!" Eddie screams, as he steps through the doorway, but it's too late. The bottle of champagne pops open, exploding all over Steve's kitchen.
"Oh, fuck!" Gareth says, trying to control the spray, but it's useless. He's making it worse instead of better. Gareth didn't shake it up on purpose, but Eddie watched him poking at the cork with his pocket knife and knew something bad was gonna happen.
Gareth is flailing around, shouting, "I'm sorry!"
Steve's already waving him off, grabbing a towel off the counter, then some paper towels, and finally the mop for good measure. It's going to be a goddamn sticky mess when it dries, that's for damn sure.
"It's okay," Steve says, but Eddie can see that his jaw is tense, clenched.
They didn't even ask if they could have New Year's Eve here at his house, they all just decided that's what they were doing, and made Steve go with it.
Eddie gets down and tries to help wipe it up, but he's pretty faded. Argyle brought the good shit, and Eddie's been going out back with him and Jonathan all night long.
But, Steve smiles at him, so maybe Eddie isn't on Steve's shit-list.
The ball drops, and it's 1987. He made it through 1986, thank fucking Christ. Eddie watches everyone take turns kissing each other. Weird. He thinks he could have lived without seeing Nancy kiss Jonathan, and then Steve, back-to-back. But then she kisses Argyle, and Argyle kisses Jonathan as Nancy kisses Robin.
Is this an orgy?
Was Eddie invited to an orgy and didn't know it?
Or, do preppy kids have a version of key parties? Eddie looks for a fishbowl.
Gareth gawks at him, like, what the fuck and Eddie stares. He doesn't know either. Clearly not wanting to be left out, Gareth kisses Goodie, much to Goodie's chagrin. Jeff just laughs, and then kisses Eddie, and it's weird, but okay, he guesses.
Then, Nancy presses her lips to his.
He's kissed Nancy Wheeler now. In what world?
But, okay. That's okay, too, he supposes.
It wasn't sexual. He's sure of that, and if he had any concerns, they'd have evaporated a second later, once he sees Robin kiss Steve. It's the weirdest thing he's seen yet, even if it's only a hard pucker of a kiss that nobody would ever mistake for being romantic. It looked more like a hostage situation, and Robin immediately wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, hard.
"Rude," Steve says, and Robin laughs.
Then, Steve looks at him, and Eddie falters.
Steve's gonna kiss him.
Eddie watches Steve lean in, and Eddie doesn't know if he needs to go with this, or flee the country. It's too late to choose, because Steve presses his lips to Eddie's, and Eddie's hand isn't connected to his brain anymore, because he lifts it, cupping Steve's neck.
Steve startles, but only for a second, then opens his mouth over Eddie's, and now they're kissing kissing. Not just the friendly peck Steve offered everyone else.
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
Eddie tries to extract himself from this, but Steve's fingers are digging into his back, and Eddie can feel everyone's eyes on them. They're never gonna live this down.
Steve finally lets him go, and Eddie makes a move to step away, but Steve grabs his hand.
"Happy New Year," Steve says to the room, and heads for the staircase, dragging Eddie along behind him.
Oh shit.
But Eddie follows, willingly. Letting Steve pull him to his bedroom. Letting Steve yank his shirt over his head, letting Steve press kisses to his chest, his scars. Hands roaming, both of them pulling off clothes, grabbing at each other.
This is really happening.
Eddie tries to toe off his Reeboks, but realizes he's wearing his boots, and almost falls over. Steve doesn't let him, and just squats down, and starts unlacing them. Pulling the long laces loose, in swift movements.
It's hot. It's so hot.
And Steve is eye level with his dick, and this is what dreams are made of, for sure.
Happy Fucking New Year.
In the morning, Eddie clomps across the kitchen floor in his unlaced boots, and the soles stick with every step. He gets a vaguely clean-looking glass from the countertop, and fills it with water.
And drinks, and drinks, and drinks.
He looks out over the living room, and can see Gareth on the couch, with one eye barely open. Clearly hungover. Maybe Eddie fucked up letting Gareth join them. Gareth's not that old, not yet. He's still in that weird middle-ground. Eddie was drinking and smoking at his age. Steve, too. But maybe they shouldn't encourage it. Maybe Gareth should have been sent to Dustin's kiddie party, instead. But Gareth would've fought that.
Gareth whistles low, a mocking catcall.
Eddie looks down. He's wearing his boxers, and his boots. And that's it. Fuck. Yeah, he's hungover, too.
Eddie doesn't give Gareth the satisfaction, so he twirls, showing off. Acting like he meant to look exactly like this.
Then, Steve stumbles into the kitchen, taking the glass from Eddie's hand, gulping down the rest of the water, and he's in his briefs, and that's it. With a big-ass hickey on his neck, that Eddie is certain he's responsible for, even if he doesn't quite remember doing it.
"Steve's hairy," Gareth mumbles, and Eddie laughs, even if it kills his head.
They are all so hungover, it's ridiculous. Maybe he shouldn't have mixed champagne, beer and liquor with Argyle's weed.
But then Steve leans down, and puts his chin on Eddie's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hugging him from behind. No, Eddie thinks this is the best thing he's ever done, maybe.
Eddie leans back into him, and Steve kisses him on the bare shoulder.
"Happy New Year," Eddie says, quietly.
Steve chuckles, hugging him tighter, "Well, it sure has been so far."
Yeah, 1987 is definitely going to be Eddie's year.
Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, commented on and reblogged all my entries for this month-long challenge. I really enjoyed participating in this event so damn much. Thank you for reading! ❤️
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see the rest of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#new year's eve#partying#kissing at midnight#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#gareth (stranger things)#platonic stobin#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Hell to Pay
Prompt Day 26: "Who did this to you?" | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Aftermath of Off-Screen Violence, Injuries | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, But Hawkins is Shitty to Him, Established Relationship, Uncle Wayne & Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Steve POV
"If they don't pull this off, I'm done with them," Steve says, and Wayne laughs.
The damn Pacers are trying to kill them both this year. It's been a losing year, and they can't seem to dig themselves out of this hole they're currently in. But Wayne and him keep watching games together, hoping they'll somehow turn it around.
Steve starts to say something else, when he hears the van pull up in the driveway, but it doesn't sound right. It came in too slow.
So, Steve gets up to peek out of the window, just to get a look at what's going on, and sees Dustin getting out of the driver's seat, which is not cool.
But then he sees Dustin racing towards the other side, and Eddie is leaning heavily against Dustin's side, as Dustin tries to help him towards the front door.
Steve's stomach drops.
"Wayne," Steve says, and that's all Wayne needs to hear to be on his feet, too. Both of them hurrying onto the porch, and down the steps.
"Who did this to you?" Steve yells as he reaches their side, taking over for Dustin.
Eddie doesn't answer, and Steve wants to grill Dustin, but Dustin's crying, nearly hysterically, at Steve's side. He can't deal with both of these things at once, and Dustin looks okay. Just upset.
Eddie is very clearly not okay.
Wayne is helping, too, and Steve thinks maybe they're headed in the wrong direction. Maybe they need to be going to the hospital, right now. Eddie's face. It's…bad. It's all bad, and Steve feels tears stinging his own eyes.
"You're okay, kid," Steve hears Wayne saying, and Steve doesn't think that's true, "We're both right here, now."
That is true, at least.
They ease him down onto the couch, and Steve crouches between his knees, gripping his thigh with one hand, the other hovering above his face, not touching him, not wanting to hurt him further.
"What happened?" Steve asks, softly. Gentle.
Wayne is in the kitchen running the water, and he shows up with a wet washcloth, and starts gently dabbing at the blood. Trying to get a better look at the damage.
"Got jumped," Eddie says, and it clearly hurts his battered mouth.
"I'm calling Hopper," Steve says.
Eddie has just wanted to ignore the vitriol that has been hurled his way, even after his name was cleared. But this? This is too far. Way, way too fucking far. Steve's gonna kill someone.
"Steve, no," Eddie says, "'m fine. Honest."
He's not fine, that's for goddamn certain.
Steve stands, lets Wayne move closer to work, and snags Dustin by the arm.
"Henderson, what happened?" Steve asks, and Dustin is just shaking his head, trying desperately to stop crying.
Steve just pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight, "You did good, kid. You brought him home."
And Dustin just cries harder.
"Steve?" Wayne calls out, and Steve lets go of Dustin and heads back towards the couch.
"This needs stitches," Wayne says, "a butterfly won't cut it. We better take you in."
Eddie is shaking his head, adamantly, "No. You do it."
"It's your face, kid, not your finger," Wayne says.
Steve knows the story. Eddie cut his finger opening a can of cat food a few years ago, and Wayne stitched it up for him. Using his skills from the war. Calling in a favor from the health nurse, getting her to drop by the trailer to give Eddie a tetanus booster right at home.
Eddie doesn't do hospitals. Not since his mom died.
But tonight, Steve thinks maybe they need to make an exception. This is different. This isn't a couple little stitches in the finger of a stubborn teenager.
This is a split across his cheek.
He needs a doctor, not homespun stitches.
But Eddie's never gonna accept that, not without a huge fight, so it's just Wayne and Steve staring at each other, trying to make a decision.
"Steve…" Eddie says, pleading with him.
"Can we please take you to the hospital? Don't make Wayne stitch up your face," Steve says, gently touching Eddie's hair.
Every time they see the scar it would undoubtedly leave, they'll have to remember this night, and none of them want that.
Eddie looks in Steve's eyes, then Wayne's, and finally nods. Consenting to the right decision.
Steve leans down and kisses him on the top of the head.
"Can I shower first?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks at Wayne, and Wayne nods.
Steve helps Eddie up off the couch, and down to the bathroom. Gets out a couple clean towels, a dark washcloth, and undresses Eddie. Then himself, stepping into the shower with Eddie. Gently helping him wash his bleeding face, his probably broken nose. His matted, tangled hair.
Eddie finally cries, here in private, and Steve presses kisses into his shoulder, his chest, right over his heart.
"I'm so sorry this happened," Steve says, and Eddie steps into his arms, and lets the warm water wash over them.
Once they're out, and redressed in clean clothes, they get into Steve's car. Wayne driving, Dustin in the front seat, so Steve can sit in the back with Eddie.
Holding him, keeping a piece of gauze against the worst of the bleeding.
They pull up in front of the emergency room, and Eddie takes a shuddering breath against Steve's body. Steve just hugs him closer, tighter.
"It'll be okay, I'll be right with you," Steve promises.
And he stays, even after there's been pushback. He watches as they numb Eddie's cheek, and then slide the needle through his skin, stitching him back together again.
But, part of Eddie is broken now, Steve's pretty sure. This was a new low, even for this goddamn town, and there will be hell to pay when Steve finds out who was responsible.
Eddie might want to let it go, but Steve won't. No fucking way in hell.
There'll be goddamn consequences, this time.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#who did this to you?#cw: injury#established relationship#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#dustin henderson#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Crumb Together
Prompt Day 27: Coffee Shop AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, Coffee Shop/Bakery AU, Fluff, Steve POV
Steve is carefully filling the bakery case. He's been here since three a.m., and it's still a half-hour until opening, but at least he's on time and not behind schedule for once.
"Hey dingus, do we need more muffins?" Robin hollers, banging through the double-doors from the back to the front.
"No, I have enough, thanks so much," he snaps. He's snippy this morning, pretty mad she ever talked him into this whole coffee shop scheme. Sure, they're retail pros, but small business owners? He should have said no fucking way. But she was excited, and he wanted her to be happy. That’s always his downfall.
He's definitely re-thinking that now that they’ve completely lost their social lives by keeping these insane working and sleeping schedules. They only see each other, which isn't the worst thing in the world, other than the fact that he doesn't know the last time he's touched boobies. Or dick. He's not picky.
He needs to get laid, and he can’t do that stuck inside this coffee shop slash bakery hell with his best friend.
He's about to turn and sass her, when someone taps on the front door and he jumps, throwing a chocolate muffin up into the air, fumbling it around, before finally regaining control.
He didn't drop it, but it looks a little worse for wear. He can't sell it like this.
Well, fuck.
If he was a hired hand, he'd ignore the annoying tapper until the official opening time. Which is twenty-nine minutes from now. But as the owner, he puts down his tray and walks towards the door. They could use the paying customer, even if they’ve shown up way too early, like a rude asshole.
He looks, but he can't see anyone out there in the dark. Maybe he should ignore it.
He doesn't, instead he unlocks the door, and there's a guy standing there.
"Hey, nice catch," the guy says, smiling.
Steve forces a smile in return, "How can I help you?"
"I know you're not open yet, but I saw you in there juggling the muffins, and I'm on my way out of town and really need a cup of coffee. My coffee maker decided this was the morning to croak," he says, slashing his whole hand across his neck, making a throat-slitting motion.
He's rambling, like Robin.
Steve finds it a little cuter on him, than he does when Robin does it at this ungodly hour.
Steve sighs, and opens the door wider to let him inside, "You just want black coffee?"
"Please," the guy says.
"I'll have to brew it. It'll just take a minute."
"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," he says, and Steve can see that he's looking at Steve's chest, looking for a name tag. But Steve's not wearing one. Because as the owner, he finally doesn't have to.
Robin is booting up the point-of-sale system, "Black coffee?" she repeats.
The guy nods.
"For?"
"Eddie," the guy answers.
"Good thing you asked him, I'd never know who to hand it to," Steve snarks at Robin, starting the coffee machine.
Eddie laughs.
Robin doesn't.
When it's done, Steve places the cup on the counter, and Robin immediately picks it up and writes Eddie's name on it.
Which, that's stupid. They all know it's Eddie's coffee. Then, Robin sacks up the slightly banged up muffin and hands it to Eddie.
"You scared him and caused him to squish it. So, it's yours. On the house!" she says, far too chipper for this time of morning.
"Thanks, I'll try to drop by and scare him more often," Eddie says, reading his name on his cup, grinning. Then Eddie slides a ten dollar bill across the counter, waving off his change.
As soon as the bell on the door jangles, signaling Eddie's departure, Robin turns and slaps Steve on the arm.
"What the hell? That cute boy wanted to flirt, and you totally dropped the ball, dingus!"
Steve scrunches up his forehead, "Huh?"
Robin just shakes her head, annoyed, and heads back towards the kitchen.
Is Steve so rusty that he missed flirting? Goddamnit.
Steve has just turned the front door lock, and flipped the sign to closed, when he hears his cell phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He follows the sound, and when he picks it up, it's a number he doesn't recognize. Great. More telemarketer bullshit.
He goes to swipe the decline button, when Robin shouts, "You better get that!"
He looks back at his phone and cautiously accepts the call, not knowing what the hell she's done now.
"Hello?"
"Is this Steve? From the coffee shop?"
"Yeah, this is Steve," Steve says, suspicious. He has no idea who he's talking to.
"Good, good. This is Eddie. From this morning. The coffee jerk that made you open early."
"Oh, uh, okay. Um…"
"How did I get this number?" Eddie asks, laughing.
"Yeah, that was what I was thinking," Steve admits.
"Well, somehow it ended up written on my coffee cup this morning, with your name and a time to call."
Steve shakes his head, Robin is such an asshole, but Steve smiles.
"Well, I'm not sure how that happened," Steve says, teasing back. Flirting.
"Big mystery," Eddie teases, "but since I've got you on the phone, would you like to grab dinner or drinks. Coffee?"
"No coffee," Steve laughs, "but yes. To the other two, for sure. But be forewarned, I eat really early. Like an old person. Early bird specials are my jam. And I go to bed by nine. Eight-thirty if I can get away with it. I gotta be here by three to get ready to open this place."
He's learned to get that info out of the way, early.
"Well, that sounds perfect. I get up at four to get to my jobsite. I'm in construction," Eddie says.
Steve smiles, it's been a while since anyone has understood his schedule.
"So, dinner? Four-thirty or five?" Eddie asks, and Steve laughs.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ☕
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#coffee shop au#bakery au#modern au#meet cute#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#platonic stobin#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Same Time, Same Place
Prompt Day 16: Modern AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Modern AU, Rideshare Driver Eddie, Slightly Injured Steve, Meet-Cute, Eddie POV
Eddie pulls up to the curb of the nice-looking house, and waits.
And waits, and waits.
He considers canceling. He looks at his app again, and his passenger is supposed to be a guy named Steve. Finally, the front door swings open, and a guy in a suit, on crutches, struggles to get himself out of his house and down the sidewalk.
Well, that explains the delay, at least.
Reluctantly, Eddie gets out and opens the car door for him, "Hi, I'm Eddie."
"Sorry, I'm Steve, thank you," Steve says, sliding into the back of the SUV, and Eddie takes his crutches from his hands.
"Front seat okay for these?" Eddie asks.
"Yes, thank you," Steve says, smiling at him, pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder. Then Steve looks down at his phone, and starts tapping away.
"Just you?" Eddie asks, because this guy booked the SUV-XL option.
"Just me," Steve says, "I just thought there might be more room for my crutches and cast."
"That's definitely true," Eddie answers, he will give him that. And this guy doesn't look like he probably cares about the extra cost. Fine by Eddie. He'll take the larger fare. The band bought this big boat to haul around the equipment, and Eddie's been using it to pick up rideshare passengers lately, just to make a little extra cash so they can pay it off quicker.
Eddie hauls Steve downtown, and fifteen minutes later, stops in front of an office building. He hops out to help Steve out of the car.
"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, and he hobbles away towards the wall of glass doors.
Eddie completes the trip, gives Steve his five stars, and pulls away.
He gets his notification of his tip a few minutes later, and it's nearly the cost of the trip. He's definitely glad he didn't get impatient this morning.
At about six o'clock, he gets another fare, and he realizes it's for the same building, and sure enough, out comes Steve. Eddie gets out again, and does it all in reverse.
"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, and Eddie isn't sure if he remembers him from this morning, or just checked his name before he got in. He's going to go with the former, because unless he got a head injury with that broken leg, surely Steve can remember what happened eight hours ago.
"You're welcome, Steve," Eddie says, and takes him back home.
Eddie winds up getting the same fare, three days in a row, both ways, and it's one of the best parts of his day. Steve's easygoing, and he tips like a motherfucker. But on Friday morning, there's no ride request for Steve. Eddie even put himself in range of Steve's neighborhood to maybe help the matching process along, but he knew it was never a guarantee.
Well, it was good while it lasted. Steve might be a little slow moving on his crutches, but he was always polite, and his tips were above and beyond.
Eddie's never had that kind of streak of getting the same passenger before. Sure, he's driven a few familiar repeat passengers, but not for several days in a row. Eddie wonders if the pool of new SUVs is just lower in the area.
That evening, he gets the ride for Steve again, and he's really happy as he heads towards Steve's office building.
"I'm so happy it's you again," Steve says as Eddie meets him on the sidewalk, "This morning was rough."
"Sorry to hear that," Eddie answers.
"I favorited you and everything, but apparently that's not foolproof?" Steve questions out loud.
Eddie didn't even know favoriting a driver was a thing a passenger could do.
"I requested the big SUV, but that's not what he showed up in, which didn't go great with my crutches."
"What happened to your leg, anyway?" Eddie asks, because he's definitely been curious.
Steve laughs, "Well, I went skiing with my best friend, and she's clumsy, and ran me over. She's fine, but my leg, not so much."
Eddie smiles at him, "That sucks."
"Definitely. I can't drive for six weeks."
"Well, I'm happy to be your chauffeur whenever we're paired up, man," Eddie says.
And they chat more than they had on the previous days, and it's fun. Some passengers are rude, others are just quiet, but Steve's talking to him like they're just hanging out.
When he pulls over at Steve's address, Eddie looks back at him.
"Feel free to say no," Eddie starts, "but if you're interested, I could just give you my card. Then you could just contact me directly when you want a ride."
"Really?" Steve asks, his eyes lighting up.
"Sure, if you want to. We can try to request the ride once I'm right there, or we can do it under the table for way cheaper."
"That sounds great, Eddie. Thank you. Monday morning? Same time, same place?"
"Absolutely. I'll see you then, Steve."
And it goes on for weeks, five more of them, until Steve comes out of the doctor's office Eddie had driven him to, and Eddie sees he's cast free.
He's happy for him, he is, but he feels a little sad that this arrangement has come to an end. He's had fun. Really, truly, had fun. He's happy Steve's free of the cast, but Eddie still feels a twinge of sadness. He's enjoyed spending thirty minutes of his day with Steve Harrington.
"Look at you!" Eddie says, acting more excited than he feels.
"I know! All better," Steve says, sliding into the front seat next to Eddie.
And Eddie drives Steve home, dropping him off for the last time.
Eddie's waiting for another fare, when his phone dings.
[4:15PM] How 'bout I pick you up in my car for a change. Dinner tonight?
Eddie smiles, re-reading the words a second time, just to make sure he isn't dreaming this up. When he's sure he's not, he says yes, and sends Steve his address.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#modern au#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
When in Vegas
Prompt Day 11: Royalty AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Drinking, Gambling | Tags: AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, What Happens in Vegas
"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry," Steve says, grabbing the shoulders of the guy he nearly knocked over on the Vegas casino floor. "I'm clumsy. It's apparently contagious. I caught it from my best friend," Steve explains, giggling.
He's tipsy.
"I see," the guy says, voice tense.
"Sorry, again," Steve repeats, and smiles in his direction.
"It's fine," the guy says, and Steve lets go of him. And then takes a good, long look. He's cute, but he's wearing a Knicks hat, and that's a definite dealbreaker.
He watches as the guy blushes under his gaze. Oh. Well, he's adorable. For a mortal enemy.
"Sorry, I can't be seen talking to you. Not after last night," Steve says, swaying on his feet, and the guy looks very confused.
"Last night?" he asks.
Steve points at his hat, "Your team knocked my team out of the semifinals, and I can't cross enemy lines."
The guy chuckles a little, and takes off his hat and examines it, like he's not sure what hat he was wearing on his own head. That's odd.
People are so weird.
Steve slumps down on the seat at the nearest slot machine and holds his hand back, offering his new frenemy a handful of nickels.
He takes them, and sits down next to him.
"Well, I'm Steve."
"Eddie," the guy says.
"What brings you to Vegas, Eddie?" Steve asks, pulling the handle on his machine again.
"A holiday," Eddie says, and Steve tries to think what holiday he means and is drawing a blank.
"My friends are getting married," Steve offers, and Eddie visibly tenses beside him.
"Well, that's nice. For them," Eddie says, voice clipped, tight.
And his voice is different than it was. Like his accent is fake. Is his accent fake? Robin would love that. A puzzle for her to solve. Where is Robin? She went to the bathroom a long time ago.
And she turns up, right after he has a cute boy, no, a cute Knicks fan, to talk to. Figures.
Robin's eyes are huge.
"You're…" she trails off, and Eddie shushes her.
"Who? He's who?" Steve asks, looking between them, wildly.
"Prince Eddie," she hisses, looking at Steve like he's the weird one here. He's the only sane one, he's pretty sure.
He's drunk. But this isn't Prince Eddie.
"Prince Eddie, as in, Prince Eddie," Steve says, not believing this bullshit.
"Please," Eddie says again, pulling his hat down lower.
Which, Steve guesses, would make sense. If Eddie just grabbed a hat as a disguise, he probably didn't care or know what team he was repping. So, maybe, he could be forgiven. Maybe.
"What are you doing lurking around a casino?" Robin asks, "Shouldn't you be across the pond?"
"Yes, well," Prince Eddie says haughtily, and he suddenly has a posh little accent. Steve knew it was fake earlier.
"Well, what?" Steve asks. He's curious now.
"My family has been trying to arrange a marriage, and I just decided to flee the country."
Steve looks at him, and he's never been able to school his face very well, and Prince Eddie must be able to read him like a book.
"I didn't say it was a good plan," Eddie admits, a little petulantly.
"Won't they know where you've gone? Or do you have secret money? I bet you have secret money," Robin rambles. She's tipsy, too.
"Well, yes. They must know I'm in the United States at this point. But I haven't checked into a hotel or anything they can trace me to yet."
"So, you're just gonna live in this casino?" Steve asks, "Is that the plan?"
"That's not the plan," Prince Eddie snaps.
Steve smiles, this is the most entertainment he's had all weekend. And they're in Vegas. It's been non-stop entertainment.
"You can stay with us, if you want to!" Robin suggests, overly chipper about that terrible idea.
"Yeah, this prince-"
And Prince Eddie shushes him, loudly.
Steve corrects himself, mid-sentence, "-this normal man, wants to crash in our hotel room. Sure."
"Well, he could!" Robin says, like it's an actual option.
"We could be serial killers," Steve says.
"You're not serial killers, don't be daft," Prince Eddie declares.
Steve smiles, because, yeah, they're not.
"We're not serial killers," Steve admits, "but we are poor commoners. So, still bad for you, I'd imagine."
Prince Eddie smiles, soft and amused.
Robin starts, "Prince Eddie-"
He interupts, "Please, just call me Eddie. I beg of you."
"Eddie," Robin says, "do you want to crash in our hotel room?"
"Yes, please, I think I'd like that very much."
Steve cannot believe his ears. But, okay, sure they can host a prince for the night.
Robin pulls up a chair in between them, and orders them all another round of drinks.
And another.
And another.
Once Prince Eddie loosens up, he's actually funny. Steve reaches over and turns his hat around backwards on his head.
"That's better. So I can look at you without gagging."
Eddie laughs, adjusting the hat, but leaving it backwards.
"So, you gotta get married," Robin says, like she understands his royal plight. She's touching both of their shoulders.
"Apparently, I'm of that age," Eddie slurs, feeding the machine another coin.
"And there's nobody you want to marry?" Robin asks.
Eddie shakes his head, "I'm definitely not interested in anyone they deem suitable."
Steve drains his glass, and just in time, because the waitress brings another round. They are small, and a little weak. But free. Steve likes free.
"What's that mean?" she questions, and Robin is playing stupid. She knows exactly why.
If Steve clocked him, Robin definitely did.
Eddie must agree with Steve's assessment, "You're aware I can't marry a woman."
"Well, we're in Vegas. You should marry Steve!" Robin shouts with delight.
Steve laughs, loudly. Yeah, sure, he'll marry Prince Eddie in front of Elvis. Sounds like a solid plan.
Then he sees Eddie looking at him, like he's considering this, and Steve's eyes go wide.
Notes: What year does this take place in? I have no idea. There's nickel slots instead of players card machines, but they can get married. So, it's just a total AU. Go with it, lol.
And I had a totally different idea for the Royalty AU, but it needed more words than 1000. Hopefully it'll go up for Steddiemas, instead. So, I had to come up with a second idea. Royalty isn't exactly in my wheelhouse, so I never expected to write two back-to-back, lol.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#royalty au#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Written for @subeddieweek, day five.
Today Is Not Tomorrow
Prompt: Omegaverse/Posessive | Word Count: 2043 | Rating: E | CW: Role Playing Hints of DubCon | Tags: Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Role Playing in Public, Omegaverse, Heat, Teasing, Alpha Steve, Omega Eddie, A Look at Aging, Light Hurt/Comfort, Lasting Love
Eddie sits on the barstool, and he's not wearing blockers of any kind tonight. An act of defiance. He's throwing his scent all over the place, right as he's rushing headlong into his heat, and he knows it's sweet as fuck. Cloying. He knows how he smells, even if it's hard to smell something you're around everyday. He's nearly noseblind to it after all these years, but he's not totally unaware of his own scent.
And neither are the alphas in the bar, apparently, because they're circling like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. No, that's just a little bit of slick and pheromones. Everybody's got 'em, what's the big fucking deal? Honestly.
Tonight, here in this bar, he's been touched, brushed against, and groped half a dozen times already. Is he asking for it, being here as his heat is ramping up? Maybe. But he still says no to each of them. And some take no for an answer. Some others growl at him, at each other.
Eddie is tired of this. He's just trying to have a beer, but he's surrounded by alpha bullshit this, alpha bullshit that. He's truly, and well over it by his age. He's not a young omega, hasn't been for a long fucking time, and he's definitely not in need of a savior, never has been. They're all knotheads, and while that sounds great, in theory, he remembers being young. Remembers how it was never what he actually wanted, once he got them between his thighs. Not really. He could never trust them enough to enjoy the act of submission that he's always longed for, so he learned to do without. He'd take care of himself on his own, before he'd drag home some random asshole alpha.
He wants to get held down and fucked, but not by any of these dickheads. He'll wind up bitten and bred, and no fucking thanks.
Not for the first time, he thinks if he were an alpha instead of an omega, he'd never have to put up with this.
He doesn't give a fuck, he can handle himself, he thinks, just a second before he's scruffed by the back of the neck, and he tenses just for a moment, before he goes limp in the alpha's grasp. Submitting, instantly.
Fucking godammit. He kind of hates himself for it. Maybe he can't handle it all on his own.
"You're coming home with me," the alpha commands, and Eddie's whole body melts into the alpha's voice, hand. It shouldn't work on him, it wouldn't, not usually, but it has in this instance. Jesus H. Christ.
Then he's tugged off his barstool, the alpha throwing a handful of bills on the bar, as he leads Eddie off, like he's a pup that needs to be manhandled into submission.
Maybe he's exactly that.
Maybe he wants to be.
Eddie tries to get a whiff of this alpha, to see if he even likes the smell of him, but the bar is full of alphas, and they're all mixed together in an overwhelming stench.
"What makes you think you're so goddamn special?" Eddie asks, and the alpha tightens his grip on Eddie's neck, not allowing him to move, let alone run. Not that it would matter if he did try to flee, he'd be chased, he knows he would, and easily caught, he's certain.
This alpha is bigger, stronger, and adamant. Eddie can't win against any of those things.
The alpha pushes him up against the alleyway wall, face-first, shoving his knee between Eddie's legs. Pressing upwards.
"You soaking wet for me?" he asks, close to Eddie's ear.
"I think you know the answer to that, unless your nose is busted," Eddie answers, laying his head against the filthy bricks. The knee is pressed harder, higher, and Eddie's body betrays him, releasing more slick, getting ready. Sending out a blatant invitation.
His biology, overtaking his brain.
Then the alpha spins him around, and sinks to his knees, burying his face right in Eddie's crotch, sucking in a deep breath.
It's the filthiest thing Eddie's ever experienced, and now he's even wetter than before. Throbbing with need. Want.
"It's not broken," the alpha says, and presses his face right up against him, even harder. Breathing deep and greedy.
"Do I even get a name, if you're gonna shove your nose in my crotch like a bad dog?" Eddie asks, reaching down and running his fingers through thick hair, pulling, just a little.
The alpha looks up, with big, expressive eyes.
"Alpha," he says, and Eddie glowers down at him.
"Yeah, no," Eddie snaps. "Not happening. You're not my alpha. And even if you were, I'm not into that bullshit."
He gets growled at for his trouble, and Eddie growls back. It doesn't have the bark, and definitely none of the bite, and the alpha throws his head back and laughs.
"That's cute," he finally says, and Eddie seethes.
"You're going home with me. And I'm gonna take what you desperately want me to have."
Eddie can't even argue, he's floating away at the idea. His heat finally hitting in full force, making its feelings on the situation known.
The betrayal of his own goddamn body.
He's suddenly flushed, and so fucking hot, burning up, and he needs to be out of these clothes, so he nods, and the alpha smiles, caressing his hips, before rising back up onto his feet.
"Take me home," Eddie says, and the alpha does just that.
Eddie is writhing under the alpha, flushed with desire, rolling along with his heat. Feeling drunk on it. Needing the release. Crazy with want, panting, begging, needing. Needing more. Needing everything.
Relishing the feel of the alpha's big hands pressing his wrists to the bed, holding him down, taking. And Eddie gives. Gives this alpha everything he has. All the control, all the power.
He closes his eyes and just feels. Feels his own body, feels the alpha's cock sliding in and out, feels the knot that's forming, threatening to catch and lock them together, at any minute.
And it does.
The knot catches, and the teeth sink in, biting him hard, and Eddie comes. Clenches down on the knot he's now locked to, and comes all over his own belly at the feeling of the teeth in his neck. When the alpha finally lets go, Eddie puts his hand to his neck, pressing against the wound.
"You just go around biting everyone you meet in a bar?" Eddie snaps, but he smiles.
"Only when they belong to me," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.
"You think I'm your property?" Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow, a question. A challenge.
"Oh no, I'm not that stupid. I'm not new here," Steve says, nuzzling his face against Eddie's neck. Licking at the wound.
And it makes Eddie smile. Because he does belong to Steve. Has, for a very long time. And Steve belongs to him, too. Steve's definitely not new here, so he's definitely not gonna let Steve get by with just saying that. It's just not how things work in their house.
Eddie will submit, wants to, loves to, but he damn well doesn't want that commented upon like it's a goddamn given. It's his choice to make, always has been.
Even as his body makes demands.
And now that his body has finally given in, gotten what it wanted, the foggy feeling has been snatched away. Too fast. Too abrupt. It never used to be this way.
Before, he could ride the wave of his heat for hours, for days, lost. Adrift. Steve taking care of him, such good care, being inside him, day and night. Holding him down, fucking him, loving him, and keeping his omega desires beyond sated.
Because he trusts Steve. His husband. His mate. His alpha.
His body would be filled, and loved, and fucking worshipped. And he could float off into space, indefinitely, while it was happening.
And now his body is betraying him.
These days, after he comes one fucking time, it's like the dial on his heat is turned from eleven down to zero. From blaring heavy metal, to complete radio silence in an instance. No pleasant buzzing in his brain to be found anywhere, only the ringing in his ears, left behind with the sudden absence of it. Like he'd hadn't been lost in his heat, just minutes ago.
It sucks.
It'll start buzzing again later, slowly picking up for round two, probably, hopefully, but the harsh change right now threatens to drag him low.
He misses what once was.
He clutches at Steve's back.
"Watching all those alphas approaching you, thinking they had a chance," Steve says, giving the barest roll of his hips, all he can manage while they're locked together in this way. It probably hurts Steve, but he does it anyway, and Eddie moans at the tugging sensation at his opening.
It brings him back to Steve.
He's so full. So taken care of. So loved.
And has been for years, decades.
"You got jealous?" Eddie asks.
"Always," Steve says, "they don't get to touch you. Scent you. That's mine. You're all mine."
And Steve's cock must agree, because it gives another spurt, filling Eddie even further with come.
"Easy there, hot shot, you're old. You'll dehydrate yourself," Eddie says, and Steve laughs.
But then Eddie tells him, voice serious, "I'm all yours."
And Steve growls, low in his chest, possessive.
"You better not be growling at me, sweetheart," Eddie teases, and Steve rolls it over into a purr, smiling. "That's better."
He'll submit to Steve in bed any day of the week, wants to, and feels fucking amazing when he does. But he's still Eddie, and that will never change. He's an omega, but he's his own goddamn man, out of this bed.
Luckily, Steve seems to love that about him. Has always loved that about him.
Eddie thought he was a bad omega in his youth, and was sure he didn't give a fuck about any of it. Then, along came Steve.
He's not a bad omega, because he's Steve's perfect one. He's been told that enough, to believe it to be true.
Steve's knot eventually goes down, and then he slides out of Eddie. He's immediately down between Eddie's legs, fussing, "You okay?"
Eddie's okay, he's just getting old, and he can't take what he could at twenty or even thirty or forty. He's sure his days of getting heats are coming to an end any day now, as sporadic as they are anymore, and in some respects, he feels like, good fucking riddance.
In others, he'll miss it. Miss what it is, what it might mean, for them as a pair.
Steve's ruts still come like clockwork, and biology isn't fair.
Eddie worries that he might not even get to submit to Steve if there's no heady undercurrent telling him to, guiding him.
He worries he won't be as attractive, as alluring to Steve, once he's no longer throwing down the major pheromones.
"Where'd you go?" Steve asks, taking a break from running his tongue all around Eddie's opening, cleaning him up. Soothing any hurts.
"Worrying that maybe this was the last time," Eddie whispers, and squeezes his eyes shut.
"Honey," Steve says, crawling up Eddie's body, laying on top of him, heavy and protective. Giving him the feeling of security that comes in no other way, can't.
"I'm good," he tells Steve, then smiles into Steve's neck, "You're a good alpha."
And Steve purrs at the praise, at the love, and it rattles against Eddie's chest, soothing him. Making all his worries slip away. Eddie knows that's what Steve gets off on the most. Their love, their bond.
And that's going nowhere. Heat, no heat.
Nothing can change their love, their connection, and Eddie melts into the sheets, and just relaxes under Steve's body.
"Do you want me to stay on top of you?" Steve asks, and Eddie does.
"Please," Eddie answers. Wrapping his arms around Steve's middle, squeezing him tight.
Today is not tomorrow, and it's not yesterday either, and submitting to that fact means he's just gonna stay right here. In the present.
With Steve.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤
Notes: This was my first foray into writing omegaverse, ever. I enjoyed the new challenge, but it quickly turned into a bit of a character study on aging without my permission, lol. I don't even know if the menopause equivalent has a counterpart in omegaverse lore. Welp, it does here, I guess.
My other fics for this challenge week:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Six
Day Seven
#subeddieweek#steddie fic#omegaverse#sub eddie munson#thisapplepielife: subeddieweek#thisapplepielife: short fic#omega eddie munson#alpha steve harrington
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Five Christmases
Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV
Christmas, 1999
8:06 AM
Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch.
"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!"
Steve nods, "We'll be fine."
"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.
"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"
"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.
9:12 AM
"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"
Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure.
Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne.
They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells.
This is Christmas.
The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.
11:58 AM
Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence.
Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.
And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.
"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely.
The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.
He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.
His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.
So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.
In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.
"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.
2:11 PM
They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.
"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.
"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet.
Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.
Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents.
Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.
"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.
"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.
Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.
5:33 PM
"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.
"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy.
Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long.
Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes.
Their kid.
He'll always be their kid.
7:45 PM
Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.
"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.
"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.
And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good.
"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen.
When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."
Robin just rolls her eyes.
11:54 PM
"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.
"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention.
"I'm listening…"
Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him.
Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#christmas#christmas fic#future fic#christmas day#established relationship#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#gareth (stranger things)#robin buckley#wayne munson#dustin henderson#steve harrington's parents#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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