#touch-starved steve harrington
Text
part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
#at this point call this the 'can i' series#sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3#but don't think they will <3#tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved#ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE#trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all#gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do#ruby writes steddie#steve x eddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#touch-starved steve harrington#not rlly anymore hehe#does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE#yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time#nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur#ok ok i'll be quiet now
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
four times eddie gets carried and one time he does the carrying
one
Eddie opens his eyes to chaos: a heartbeat under his ear that’s furious, a voice echoing just above him yelling profanities and directions, hands digging into his legs and side that should probably hurt.
But nothing hurts.
He can’t feel anything, actually.
Which is probably a good thing considering the last time his eyes were open, he was dying.
Maybe he is dead. Maybe this is Hell.
But he catches a somewhat familiar scent, and he turns his head towards the solid but soft wall holding him.
He must make a noise because the voice vibrating against his face stops, the movement under him stops, and a different panic ensues. He’s not sure what’s being said now, too focused on the comfort he’s feeling.
Maybe it’s not Hell. Maybe he’s found his way to Heaven.
But that’s Steve’s smell and Steve isn’t dead. Is he?
Eddie’s eyes open and he finds just enough energy to make a small noise, one that wouldn’t have been heard in the chaos, but definitely gets heard in the silence surrounding him now. He hates silence. He hopes if he’s dead, he can at least hear some music sometimes.
“Eddie?”
It’s definitely Steve’s voice, and Steve’s smell, and probably Steve’s strength holding him up.
“You don’t have to talk if it hurts, but can you tap my chest if you can hear me?”
Eddie could do that. He could.
His hand was already brushing against Steve’s chest as they walked, so he lifted a few fingers and brushed them against the material of Steve’s shirt.
“That’s good!” Steve sounded pretty thrilled about such a simple touch.
Eddie was familiar with being touch starved, but he didn’t think Steve could be this bad off with all the times he’s been practically glued to Robin.
“St-“ he tried to say his name, maybe get some answers for why he was being carried, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“It’s okay. I’m getting you safe. We can fix it,” Steve was walking still, but no other voices could be heard anymore. It was like the world had narrowed down to only them. “I promise I’m gonna fix it.”
“Mkay.”
Blackness clouded Eddie’s vision again as he lost consciousness.
two
Eddie’s physical therapy sessions in the hospital sucked, but the ones at home sucked worse.
At least at the hospital, no one was around to watch him struggle and fail except the physical therapist. At home, Steve was watching and making sure he did everything right, never more than a few feet away in case he needed help.
Eddie could walk with support, but he refused to use the stupid walker the hospital gave him. Wayne found a cane in his room from when he hurt his back a few years ago and told Eddie he could decorate it however he wanted if it meant he’d use it.
And he sure did.
He covered it in black paint, stickers, and had all the kids paint their names on it.
But he still hated using it.
So he was focusing on the walking movements the PT gave him, and Steve was constantly hovering beside him, waiting for any sign that he needed to stop.
“Your legs are shaking, Eds. We should stop for today,” Steve put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, careful not to put any weight on him. “You can do more tomorrow.”
“No, I’m almost to the couch.”
The silence was loud as he looked ahead at where the couch actually was. He wasn’t almost there. He wouldn’t make it.
But he was stubborn, dangerously so, and he was gonna make it.
He took another two shuffling steps, then felt a shooting pain in his side and nearly collapsed.
Steve’s arms were under him immediately, lifting under his legs and supporting his back in a fucking bridal carry.
“Put me down!” Eddie squirmed, but Steve was strong. “I was almost there!”
“No you weren’t and you were gonna push yourself too hard. You would’ve fallen and got hurt and if you get hurt again, it’ll be my fault.”
Eddie’s mouth snapped shut before his argument could be said.
Did Steve think he was actually responsible for Eddie?
“Stevie, it’s carpet. I would’ve been fine,” Eddie said quietly as Steve walked them over to the couch. He didn’t set Eddie down though, just held him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not letting anything happen to you again.” Steve set him down gently on the couch, making sure his legs were stretched out so he could do some of his sitting movements. “I’m not letting you down again.”
“What do you mean? You didn’t let me down,” Eddie stayed frozen where Steve had set him down, unable to even breathe properly.
“I should’ve been there so you didn’t run back to distract the bats. You never should’ve almost died.”
“Steve…” Eddie reached a hand out, tugging on Steve’s hand until he was sitting on the coffee table across from him. “None of this is your fault. I’m an adult. I made my choices. I would’ve made them even if you were there.”
“But-“
“No buts!” Eddie smiled at him, ignoring another sharp pain in his hip. “You know how stubborn I am. Do you really think you had a shot in hell of stopping me once I decided to be a distraction?”
Steve shook his head.
“Then stop blaming yourself. You saved my fuckin’ life, man. You stayed by my side nearly every day since then. You couldn’t let me down if you tried, okay?”
“Okay.”
three
He’d fallen asleep on the couch, he knew he had.
But he was currently in Steve’s bed. Which is upstairs. He hasn’t mastered walking up stairs yet.
How the fuck did he get here?
It was dark except for a hint of moonlight streaming between the curtains and a glow under the door from the hall light that was always on.
He turned on his side and nearly screamed when he saw a black outline of someone else in the bed.
The body moved and Eddie could just make out the hair.
Steve.
He was in Steve’s bed with Steve.
“You okay?” Steve’s raspy sleep voice startled him, his heart rate climbing to probably dangerous levels.
A hand reached out and touched Eddie’s chest, right over his racing heart. Steve’s hand was warm and wasn’t moving away.
“Mhm. How’d I get here?”
“Carried you.”
He couldn’t see if Steve’s eyes were open, or if he was even properly facing Eddie, but he was grateful for the dark hiding his blush.
“I could’ve stayed on the couch.”
“Wanted you here,” Steve mumbled against his pillow, his hand bunching up Eddie’s shirt as he pulled him closer. “Sleep.”
Eddie could think about it tomorrow. Or maybe never.
Maybe this was a dream, or maybe Steve was still asleep and had no idea what he was doing or saying. Maybe he’d wake up and Steve would be gone and he’d never know for sure if he dreamt it or it was real.
But for now, Eddie fell asleep with Steve’s hand against his chest and his body heat keeping him warm.
four
“I don’t know why you picked a spot so far into the woods. Are you trying to murder me? You were just being nice for the last three months because it would be easier to trick me?” Eddie paused to catch his breath. He was admittedly very out of shape, but this trek seemed particularly difficult.
“Are you in actual pain or are you just tired?” Steve asked, not slowing down at all.
“Can’t it be both?”
Steve finally stopped and turned to Eddie, the worried set of his brow almost making Eddie feel guilty.
“We can go back, Eddie,” Steve offered quietly.
Eddie saw the disappointment on his face, though. And he was a little sore, but mostly from being tired, not from actually overexerting his muscles.
“No, I can make it. How much longer?”
Steve looked around for a moment. “Less than half a mile, but most of it is uphill.”
“I’ll just take it slow. Sorry,” Eddie apologized.
“Hey,” Steve was suddenly back in front of him, hands on his arms to stop him, to comfort him. “We can go as slow as you need. We’ve got all day. Need any help?”
Eddie didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He was doing a lot better than he expected, truthfully.
But if it kept Steve’s hands on him, he was obviously going to say yes.
Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him over a particularly large log.
They continued in silence, but Steve’s arm never left his waist, and Eddie’s breath never quite went back to normal.
When they were almost at Steve’s destination, Eddie lost his footing and nearly face planted into the wet soil. But Steve tugged him back just in time, until his back was flush against Steve’s front.
“Let me help,” Steve said against his ear.
His hands went under him, lifting him up in the familiar bridal carry that seemed like second nature for them at this point.
Steve held him close, made sure he had a good grip, then started walking forward.
“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie barely whispered. He felt a bit ashamed, that he couldn’t do something so simple, that Steve felt like he had to help, that he was a nuisance.
“I want to.”
Neither of them spoke again until they reached their destination.
Steve didn’t put him down at first, walking over to a clearing that looked out over the lake.
Eddie had no idea this was even accessible to people, had only ever noticed the cliff from the edges of the lake and assumed it was just untouched wooded area.
“This is a nice view,” Eddie said as he looked around. He could see a lot of the outskirts of town, even some of the surrounding areas that were mostly untouched by the events of spring break. “Can already see some stars.”
The sun was still up, but it was near dusk. The walk back would be dark if they didn’t leave soon.
“Yeah,” Steve finally set him down on his feet, but didn’t put any space between them. “Wanted you to see it.”
Eddie watched as Steve’s hands fiddled with his sweater, a nervous habit that he noticed back when he was still in the hospital. He’d never mentioned it, wasn’t even sure Steve knew he was doing it, but he always offered his ring-covered hand as a replacement.
Maybe it was a little selfish, but Steve never seemed to mind.
As soon as Eddie slipped his hand closer to Steve, he started toying with his mood ring, a gift from Dustin when he got out of the hospital so they could tell how he was before asking. It didn’t actually work, but they all thought it was fun.
“You come out here often?”
Steve shrugged. “Not as much since Vecna. Don’t really like being alone anymore.”
“Yeah. I know what ya mean.”
They stood there in silence again, looking up at the stars and out at the vastness of rural Indiana. Steve moved on to fidgeting with another ring, spinning it and twisting it every way possible.
“Wayne asked when you’d wanna move back in with him. Said he’s settled in the new trailer and can get your room set up whenever you’re ready,” Steve finally said.
Eddie turned to look at him, noting the shakiness in his voice. He was biting his lip so much, it was a miracle he wasn’t bleeding.
Something was off.
He’d been staying with Steve because it was easy, it was best for everyone to have easy access to a bedroom and bathroom while he healed, and Steve was the only one with parents who weren’t around. Wayne was stuck in the second floor of a motel, which wasn’t ideal for Eddie at all. But now he had a new place, and Eddie could handle stairs now, and it just made sense to go home.
So why did it feel like he’d be leaving his home if he went back to Wayne?
“Do you want me to go?” Eddie asked, bracing for the ‘yes’ he was certain was coming.
“No.”
Eddie pulled back in shock.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean no, I don’t want you to go,” Steve grabbed his hand again, tracing along the outside of his rings, making goosebumps pop up on Eddie’s arms. “I want you to stay. But I know you love Wayne and probably miss him. You should go if you want to.”
Eddie fishmouthed for a moment, unsure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew he should probably think about this without Steve in front of him.
“And if I don’t wanna go?”
Steve searched his face for any hint of a lie, but Eddie knew he wouldn’t find one. He wanted to stay.
He wanted to stay with Steve.
“Then you should stay,” Steve choked out, almost in as much shock as Eddie had been only a moment ago. “Stay. Please.”
“In the guest room?” Eddie pushed. He shouldn’t push, but he had to know if this was Steve acting out of fear of being alone or if Steve was feeling the same about Eddie as Eddie was about Steve.
“I was thinking you could stay in my room. My bed.”
Eddie smirked. Steve was a charmer, no doubt about that, but he was clearly nervous, in uncharted territory.
He leaned in, watched Steve’s eyes widen in surprise at the shift in control of the conversation.
“And if I get sharing bed privileges, does that mean I also get kissing privileges?”
Steve nodded, eyes still wide, still shocked speechless.
“Could I start that privilege now?”
“Yeah. Yes, please.”
Eddie had never enjoyed a privilege quite as much as this one.
+ one
“You said the front step was fixed!” Eddie screeched as they stood outside their new home. “Look at it. It’s depressed.”
Steve snorted. “It’s just a little…crooked.”
“It’s barely even attached anymore.”
Steve nudged his shoulder and held out the key. “Would you like to do the honors?”
Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, no. We had an agreement, didn’t we?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think you were serious.”
“I’ve been training for this moment for over a year!”
“Throwing me around on the bed is not ‘training’, baby,” Steve smiled. “But if you really wanna do this, I’ll unlock the door.”
Eddie grinned and leaned over to pick Steve up into a bridal carry.
Steve yelped when he almost immediately dropped him, his hand fisting in Eddie’s shirt to try to keep from falling.
“I gotcha, sweetheart,” Eddie said, tightening his hold on his legs and shifting him up so that his face was level with Eddie’s. “You know what’s nice about living in the middle of nowhere?”
“What?” Steve breathed out, eyes darting down to Eddie’s lips.
“I can kiss you right here in the open and no one’s around to see it.”
“Then do it,” Steve challenged.
Eddie was always up for the challenge.
He kissed him, smiling into it as he realized this was their whole future. This house, this life, it was theirs.
Eddie carefully stepped up onto the porch, avoiding the worst of the step, and walked up to the front door.
Steve leaned over to unlock it, pushed it open, and waited.
He looked up at Eddie as Eddie stepped through the door.
“Maybe someday we can do this married,” Steve’s voice was quiet, nervous.
“You wanna marry me?” Eddie half-teased. He still couldn’t quite believe how much Steve wanted him, how much he loved him.
“I’d do it today if we could.”
“We could pretend anyway,” Eddie kissed his forehead before setting him down. “We’ve got a lot of rooms to christen.”
“Where do you wanna start?”
“The living room has a fireplace and I’ve had fantasies-“
“Fantasies? Seriously?”
Eddie tugged Steve to him by his waist, captured his lips in a heated kiss. “So many fantasies.”
Steve started walking them backwards towards the fireplace. “Show me what these fantasies looked like then.”
“You got it, big boy.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#drabble#4 + 1#I couldn’t manage a 5 + 1#touch starved Eddie Munson#touch starved Steve Harrington#getting together
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Falling
(ao3 link)
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#touch starved steve harrington#I don’t think I’ll ever write him another way honestly#stranger things#steddie fic#st fic#Eddie has the patience of a saint#(mostly he’s just in love)#Steve is struggling#honestly idk how else to tag this#starambles
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
The thing is, Steve has learned, that becoming untouchable isn't all he wants it to be.
People were too quick to try and reach out for him, ask for more than he was willing to give. He hadn't wanted to give up his first kiss to some random girl at some random boy's twelfth birthday party because of spin the bottle. He hadn't wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Jenny Jackson or Linda Simons at Tommy's birthday party the following year. He did want to take Mary Linscott to Snow Ball, but she just wanted to make out behind the bleachers instead of dance with him. He didn't want to do that but then Brian called him stupid for not wanting to, and asked if he was queer. So, Steve had turned right back around and dragged Mary back under the bleachers, kissing her until it was time to go to prove Brian wrong.
(Even though Steve knows Brian isn't wrong. That Steve had wanted to ask Brian to the dance as much as he'd wanted to ask Mary but knew better than to do that. He saw how they treated Eddie Munson last year for the suspicion of liking other boys and Steve wasn't going to let that happen to himself.)
Brian had congratulated him after and asked what base he got to. Steve didn't want to get to any bases, but he couldn't say that, so he just punched Brian in the arm and said 'more bases than you' which was true because Brian's date didn't kiss him even once.
Then Carol Perkins approached him at lunch, shortly after Snow Ball, and asked if Steve would be her first kiss. Not because she wanted to kiss Steve, but because she wanted to kiss Tommy H, but didn't want to be bad at kissing. Steve agreed because he liked Carol. Not in the way she liked Tommy, but mostly because she'd asked.
No one had done that yet.
She came over to his house on a Saturday because she didn't want Tommy to catch them and think she didn't like him. They made out in his room because, despite his parents being home, they didn't really care who was in his room with him or if the door was open or shut. Probably didn't even notice he had someone over. She leaves an hour later.
By Tuesday Tommy and Carol are an item and by Friday they were Steve's best friends.
However, for reasons Steve doesn't understand, more girls keep asking him to be their first kiss. And maybe it's because he's already got a reputation, or maybe Carol let slip he'd said yes when she asked, but Steve finds himself kissing a lot of girls he doesn't want to. He doesn't know how to say no. Can't find a reason too. Brian's words play in the back of his mind every time he thinks about saying no.
(Are you stupid? Are you queer? He doesn't want to be either of those things, and given his grade in biology and pre-algebra, he's really only got a hope of avoiding the queer label. His father would tolerate a stupid son. He doesn't think he'd survive if his father had a queer one.)
There are a few girls he's been crushing on that ask him and that was nice. One, Alice Baker, even becomes his girlfriend for a month. His first relationship.
Soon eighth grade gives way to being a freshman and Steve, who has always been handsome and cute, catches the eye of upperclassmen now.
And Steve's not sure how it happens, but he ends up moving past first base with another girl whose name he can't remember, or possibly never knew. He doesn't remember asking her for hers when she led him into one of the bedrooms at the house this party was at while he was way too tipsy.
And then it just grows. The reputation and what people expect from him, and he doesn't want it, but he's never said no before so can he start now? Doesn't he need a reason to say no? If he doesn't have a reason, does that make him queer? He should be wanting this. What boy doesn't want this?
And maybe he does want it. But not like this.
He doesn't want to be slightly drunk at yet another party, following the first girl that grabs his wrist and pulls him after her into whatever secluded area they can find. He doesn't want to keep saying yes when he wants to say no.
The summer between freshman and sophomore year he confides in Carol. It's a risk. Carol can be cruel, quick with her words to tear you down, to spread the rumor that will ruin your life. But she's also fiercely loyal.
He tells her he's tired of kissing people he doesn't want to.
Carol is quiet for a long time, and Steve almost thinks he's made a mistake. But then she speaks.
"Okay. Let's make a plan."
And they do. Then suddenly Steve is untouchable. Carol teaches him how to see the weakness in people and call it out. How to wield his facial expressions as a weapon and a shield. How to put on the air of being the most important person everywhere you go so well that everyone else begins to believe it. How to fall back on the fact his parents are rich, gone often, and, almost most importantly, well known in the community. It gives Steve's name a weight to throw around.
More importantly, all of that culminates in people no longer asking things of him. Instead, they look to him to take the lead, they wait to be asked. It makes Steve feel in charge of his life for once.
But now.
Now, years later, having survived a spring break from Hell and averted the apocalypse, Steve watches Eddie hang off Argyle with ease, fling an arm over Jonathan's shoulder while laughing at a joke, easily pull Dustin into a headlock or wrestling match.
Easy touches that Steve should be able to do, too. A jealousy wells inside him almost as much as the unease he feels in his stomach at the mere thought of letting them know they're allowed to reach out and touch him, too. That Eddie's allowed to reach out and touch.
But then he remembers what happened when he let people have that power over him and he can't bring himself to do it.
It settles in Steve, then, the realization. When you become untouchable, you're unable to touch.
-
@nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you adding my own lil bit of angst into the mix now (:
#pre steddie#my fic#cw dubious consent#internalized homophobia#steve kisses a lot of people he doesnt want to because of peer pressure and his own fear of not fitting in#it is also implied steve has sex with people when he didnt really want to#steve harrington has bad parents#touch-starved steve#also if you know the song that last line is from i am smooching the top of your head softly
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
steve craves touch.
he offers his body up to be squeezed in any way and rarely anymore is that offer taken.
he gets hugs from robin, but they're fleeting and casual, and it's not like he doesn't try, "need a hug?" he asks, hiding his hurt when they push him away. he knows it's not him.
so he surrounds himself with pillows and heavy blankets, hoping to simulate that feeling.
it doesn't work.
so he goes on, starving for the feeling of being in someone's arms, holding their hand, anything.
until he meets eddie.
eddie who loves hugs, and will take steve up on every single offer, no matter what.
eddie who hugs with all his might, and never fails to satisfy that need.
and when they get together, finally, steve wraps his entire body around eddie, loving the way it feels when he curls right back around him.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#touch starved steve harrington#soft steddie#steddie ficlet
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Saw a prompt and couldn’t let it go, so enjoy! 🥰 (no dialogue because I can’t figure that part out)
Steve has always craved touch even though he never got it.
His parents found out his unique ability at a young age when Steve touched his aunt and she immediately fell to the floor dead. Just from his skin touching hers. After that he wasn’t allowed any sort of touch, his parents warned anyone and everyone to avoid touching him. Near everyone in town knows, knows to avoid touch with him; stays away from him.
Steve manages, as much as someone can with deadly powers.
He figured out how to get his own comfort from plush toys and once he figured out when others touch his clothes first, nothing happens. He figures wearing sleeves and pants and gloves will always be his best options.
Still touch-starved though.
He has friends, but no one wants to get super close. Too afraid to accidentally touch. His parents leave often, also too afraid of his ability.
Eddie was told by his Uncle Wayne that he was special.
That when he was five, he was in a terrible car accident that should’ve killed him. It did kill his mom, but the emts and doctors were shocked that Eddie was fine. He was hurt, sure, but completely fine otherwise.
So, he grew to be little reckless. Lives on the edge and found out at sixteen that he can’t die. After several visits with specialists, it was officially confirmed.
He’s able to get hurt, pretty badly sometimes. But besides that, he can’t die. Which scares him just a bit but not enough to stop living life on the edge.
Steve leaves his hometown as soon as he can with only his things and a plan to get as far away as he can from all the people who are afraid of him.
He’s also afraid, so afraid that he’s not only touch-starved but also a little touch averse now. Doesn’t want anyone to die just by simply touching him. He might want touch, but will always be afraid.
They meet by chance, but mostly because of Eddie being a reckless idiot and his friends daring him to try running across very busy traffic. Which, as the daredevil he is, Eddie attempts to do it.
He’s only stopped by Steve freaking out at seeing it. For once, Steve acts before his brain catches up with him. Just throws his gloveless hand and grabs hold on Eddie’s arm to force him to stop moving.
Eddie jerks back and for a split second, feels a warmth before it fades. He’s taken back, annoyed at being stopped but also very confused. Most people that live here, know him. Know that he can get hurt but can’t die.
So this random person grabbing hold of his arm is new.
The touch registers in Steve’s head minutes later, as Eddie stares at him. He immediately lets go with wide eyes and panicking. But instead of the guy dropping dead, he’s still standing.
Eventually they’ll talk, they’ll learn each other’s abilities and someday in the future learn to love each other.
~~
Sooo, I can’t figure out how to work out dialogue into this. Or really flesh out their abilities. But it’s a thing! If you want to take this and pick it apart, you’re definitely welcome to do so! (If you do tag me!)
Permanent tag list:
@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings
#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#stranger things#nburkhardt writes#Steve x eddie#steddie au#touch starved steve harrington#but ALSO#touch averse Steve Harrington#reckless Eddie Munson#Eddie’s totally a daredevil you can’t tell me otherwise#it’s sorta x-men related but also very much not
758 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#Robin is like ’slay boys’ but also is like ’disgusting’ when they make out#AS A JOKE#They don’t do it alll the time but I can see these two deadass always touching each other#My touch-starved boys#Ofc always like what’s OK for other eyes to see they aren’t that crazy#LOL#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fandom#stranger things#hellfire club#dustin henderson#the hellfire club#dnd#dungeons and dragons#headcanons#hc#steddie headcanon#stranger things 4
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie is a touchy person, and Steve knows it. Hell, he likes it because he's a touchy person, too. But when your friends are literal children, these forms of touch come out as ruffling their hair to annoy them or pats on the back. And Robin, she's great, but not too big on physical touch, especially from guys. Which is understandable really.
But Eddie... well, Steve's allowed to do whatever he wants with him. He gets to hug him, rest a hand on his back, and, shit, sometimes he even gets to hold his hand whenever they do a movie night. And yes, if there's hand-holding, there's also cuddling.
But they're both touch-starved so it doesn't really mean anything... right?
He's mainly wondering this because of their current position - cuddling on the couch face to face. Steve's hand is on Eddie's face, tracing over his cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, his jaw... his lips. Honestly, he feels like he's trying to memorize his face by touch, feeling out which areas are soft and which are rough with stubble.
He's never been allowed to explore this before, but Eddie lets him. Plus, he's pretty much a pile of goo under his touch - smile soft, eyes closed, and all around relaxed.
Then, Eddie's hand comes up to run through Steve's hair, and Steve closes his eyes against the touch. God, he loves when Eddie plays with his hair.
He knows that Eddie likes the same thing, but he doesn't like Steve's hand running through his curls because sometimes his fingers get caught and accidentally pull. So, Steve's hand comes up to his scalp, gently massaging and scratching the way Eddie likes.
A movie drones on behind them. Steve's not really sure when he turned completely around to face Eddie, but he doesn't mind. Sometimes this happens. Sometimes Eddie pulls him close and doesn't let him turn, telling him to focus on the movie while he runs a hand up and down his arm.
Steve really can't complain.
He leans his head forward, pressing his forehead against Eddie's, focusing on the way their breath mix together, warm and damp. Steve likes the way it ghosts over his lips.
Eddie shifts in front of him, head coming up slightly so his nose brushes against his as his breath becomes much heavier on Steve's lips. The hand in Steve's hair tugs slightly, pulling his head back so Steve's lips get that tingling sensation alerting him that there's something almost within touch that he could press against with just the slightest movement.
Steve opens his eyes, noticing how close Eddie is, eyes searching Steve's as if asking something that he can't read. But the breath between them changes, becoming more rushed - nervous.
Then, Eddie shifts again, letting their lips lightly brush in a way that could be registered as an accident. But Steve finally gets it when Eddie's eyes search his as he pulls back again.
And shit, yeah, he wants to kiss him too.
So, he shifts his left hand, bringing it out of Eddie's hair, letting it rest against the back of his neck, ready to pull him in.
"Okay, movie night is over!" Dustin yells.
Steve startles back, only being saved when Eddie's hand grabs him by the waist and pulls him in.
He reluctantly turns, noticing everyone's eyes on him - or rather, him and Eddie.
"We can handle the weird PDA, but we draw the line at making out in front of us. Jesus, you two are such a clingy couple," Dustin says, rolling his eyes.
Steve's heart thuds in his chest. "Couple?" he asks.
He feels Eddie tense against him at the question.
"Yeah, we know you've been dating for weeks now. Don't act so surprised," Max says, arms crossed next to El who mirrors the same position.
"Weeks?" Steve asks, feeling weird about the whole thing since he's literally spooned against Eddie.
"It was kind of obvious when you first started holding hands," Will pipes in.
"Plus, everyone knew about Eddie's crush on you, so it wasn't hard to put the pieces together," Mike says.
Crush?
Eddie shifts behind him, sitting up in the small space, putting distance between them. Steve turns to lie on his back, glancing at him as Eddie puts his head in his hands. "We're not dating," Eddie grumbles.
Why does the truth hurt so much?
"Really?" Lucas asks. "Because we wouldn't be against it if you were. At all."
Steve stares at Eddie whose hands flex in his hair. "Really," Steve says. He clears his throat and looks at the kids. "Why don't we finish the movie tomorrow? You all rode on your bikes here, right?"
All the kids nod, looking at each other in a mixture of disbelief and guilt. "We should go," El states. "We will see you tomorrow."
With that, all the kids rush out of the house without another word, giving the two all the space they need.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, voice quivering a bit. "I-I should've told you. Shit, I didn't think it would get this far, and I didn't, like, try to feel you up or anything. And I got carried away earlier and forgot this is different for you than it is for me. Christ, I am so sorry, Steve."
Steve sits up and runs a hand over Eddie's back, glad that the movement has Eddie looking up at him, scared, with tears in his eye. Steve lays back and opens his arms wide. "Come here," he says.
Eddie stares at him, not moving.
Steve sighs. "This is always what we do when you're upset and that's not changing, so come here."
Eddie's tongue rests against the top of his lip for a moment before he moves to lay slightly on top of him, head resting in the crook of Steve's neck.
Steve lets his hand travel up and down his back, slightly gliding into his hair as it comes up. He thinks.
When they were first friends, Steve would mostly go for casual touches - a pat on the back, a shoulder squeeze, sometimes throwing a hug in there when he really missed him. Somewhere along the way, it became impossible to not be near him. And Steve had never felt so drawn to someone before.
He had brushed it off for a while, blaming it on him being touch starved - which he was. But usually, he resolved those feelings by having meaningless sex with some girl. Which he hasn't had since he and Eddie started becoming practically glued at the hip. God, he hasn't had any urge to even flirt with anyone really. It's like Eddie has filled all his relationship needs without Steve noticing.
Except for the kissing part. Which, now he's noticed the need for that, he can't stop thinking about it.
Shit, he really wanted to kiss him - still wants to kiss him.
Why isn't he kissing him?
Rather, why isn't he dating him?
He turns toward the mess of curly and swipes them back, trying to look at Eddie, but his face is still buried in his neck.
"Eddie," Steve says. Eddie hums against him, not lifting his head. Steve smiles. "Lift your head up a bit."
Eddie slowly shifts and rests his head in the corner of the couch away from Steve.
Steve snorts. "Lift your head up, not to the side, Eds."
Eddie reluctantly lifts his head up, looking down at Steve.
Shit, he's gorgeous. How did he not notice this before when he was literally memorizing his face? ...oh, maybe that's why he was doing that.
Steve lifts his hand up and swipes Eddie's hair to the right before cupping his face. "What if I told you that I wanted to date you?" Steve asks.
Eddie's eyes widen then shut as he shakes his head. "Don't pity me, Harrington."
"Eddie," Steve says sternly. "What if I wanted to date you?"
Eddie's eyes open and stare down at him. "Steve, you don't mean that."
Steve brings both his hands up to cup his face. "Stop arguing with me. I want to date you, and I want to kiss you, and take you on proper dates, and tell the kids how crazy I am about you to the point that they start complaining about it. Eddie, I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize, but I like you. Shit, I think we've been dating for weeks now without either of us realizing it. So, can you stop arguing with me so we can finally make this official?"
Eddie stares at him, letting his eyes flick back and forth between Steve's as if trying to figure out if he's lying. "You want to date me?" he asks.
Steve groans. "Yes, Eddie."
"Actually?" Eddie asks.
Steve carefully guides his head down to rest against his forehead. "Yes, Eddie."
"You're sure?"
Steve's hand presses into the back of his neck, so his lips brush against Eddie's. "Yes, Eddie."
Eddie sighs in relief. "Can I kiss you now?"
"Yes, Eddie."
They both move at the same time, finally relieving that tingling sensation as their lips push together.
Steve only wonders how he didn't realize he needed this sooner.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie ficlet#stranger things#yes im touch starved#sue me#let them live my dreams
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Steve and hugging from behind would be so cute 🥺
anything for u my dear nova <33 the hugging from behind part is literally just a speck in all this fluff oopsie but pls enjoy
steve harrington x reader, 1.4k
There was something about Steve Harrington that made you unbelievably nervous. A good kind of nervous, of course—the kind that sent your stomach into a fluttery mess and made your fingertips tingle every time he touched you.
You shouldn’t be nervous around him, but you’d been together for three months and still found yourself fighting the urge to unabashedly stare at him whenever you spent time with each other.
Another reason to be nervous—you were spending the night at his place for the very first time.
It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend a whole day together, but you always went home at the end of the night (much to Steve’s dismay). So a few hours ago when he casually suggested you just stay the night instead of leaving and coming back in the morning, you almost freaked out.
Now you were here, standing in his bathroom fresh out of the shower, staring at yourself in the fogged up mirror and willing yourself to just be normal. It was Steve. There was nothing to worry about.
Steve was sprawled out on his bed when you finally mustered up the courage to make your way to his room, tossing a raggedy baseball above his head and catching it.
Well, trying to catch it was a more apt description. His focus immediately shifted to you as you padded in, the ball bouncing off the mattress next to his head and nearly hitting him in the face in the process before rolling onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, ball forgotten.
“Hi.” He said softly, smiling at you with the brightness that rivaled the sun. You echoed his greeting, clutching at the towel around you. “Uh, here. This is for you.” He held out a well worn looking shirt, soft cotton brushing against your fingers as you took it gratefully. “I can—I’ll turn around while you get dressed.”
“Thanks, Steve,” You mumbled, suddenly feeling shy. There were those damn nerves again. Steve turned around like he said he would, rocking back and forth on his heels while you pulled the shirt over your body. It smelled like laundry detergent and cologne and so very Steve you decided right then and there you were definitely keeping this shirt. “You can turn around now.”
He whirled back around, letting himself take in the sight of you in his clothes. It was something straight out of a dream he’d had a few times. “You’re so pretty.”
“You’re not so bad looking yourself.”
Steve preened at the compliment, looking mighty pleased. He’d already changed while you were in the bathroom, clad in only a pair of old Hawkins High sweatpants slung low on his hips.
His chestnut hair was free of product, fluffy and a little all over the place with a artful curl hanging over his brow. You had to fight the urge to brush it out of his eyes, though you suspected he probably wouldn’t have minded one bit if you did.
“C’mere,” He murmured, stretching out an arm towards you. The look in his eyes held so much warmth, so fond and sickly sweet you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d ended up with a toothache come morning time. It spurred you forward, folding yourself into Steve’s embrace like it was second nature. Like it was where you belonged. His nose dipped into your hair and he inhaled, arms wrapping around you tight.
“Did you just sniff me?”
“You smell really nice.” He defended meekly, cheeks turning an embarrassed pink. You kissed him to remedy it, smiling against his lips when he kissed you back immediately. His hand rubbed along your back whilst he maneuvered the two of you towards the bed without managing to break the kiss, but the need for air unfortunately won out.
Steve pulled the covers over the two of you swiftly, settling close—but not too close, in case you liked to have your own space while you slept.
You tucked yourself snug against his side instead, cheek pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you again, and you were content there. The sound of his heartbeat hammered a million miles a minute in your ear, and it made you feel a little better knowing that he was just as nervous as you were. It actually eased your own nerves a tenfold.
“Is this okay? Are you comfy?” Steve asked worriedly. It was cute how attentive he was. You wanted to tell him that being wrapped in his arms was one of the comfiest places in the world, but just opted for a nod, nuzzling a little closer to him in lieu of an answer. Steve still got the message loud and clear, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
It didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep, you because of the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest, and him because of the soothing warmth you radiated. He could fall asleep like this every night and still never get tired of it.
-------
You were expecting Steve to be next to you when you woke up the next morning. But when you opened your eyes and rolled over to look at him, the space beside you was empty.
He was in the kitchen when you finally found him, standing at the stove when you padded in, humming along to the song playing softly from the radio over on the other counter. His back was towards you as he poured batter into a pan on the stove.
A sizeable stack of perfect pancakes sat on a plate beside him, with crispy edges, just the way you liked it. You wondered how he knew that, seeing as you’d never told him before. Then again, Steve always seemed to know what you liked.
You crossed the room quiet as a mouse, sliding your arms around him once you were close enough.
Letting out a surprised noise at the feeling of your embrace, it only took him a second to realize it was you.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He hummed, settling his free hand over your linked ones at his navel. You pressed your forehead between his shoulder blades, reveling in the warmth of his freckled skin and stayed there for a while, feeling him inhale and exhale with every breath he took. It was quite soothing. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good. Really good.”
“Sure sounded like it, what with the way you were snoring in my ear the whole night.”
“I was not!” You gasped, rearing back. Steve’s body shook with laughter, and you realized he was just poking fun at you. “You’re an asshole.”
“An asshole who’s making you breakfast right now.” He pointed out, flipping the pancake for good measure.
“True. You’ve been promoted to just a little shit then.”
“Lucky me.” Steve snorted. “As much as I love this, you’re kinda cramping my style. I don’t wanna accidentally elbow you when I try to wow you with my triple pancake flip. Go sit at the counter and do what you do best—look pretty.”
You obliged, but not before sighing overdramatically. “Trying to get rid of me already, Harrington?”
“Dunno…is it working?”
“Just for that comment, no, it isn’t working.” You huffed, propping your chin up in your hand.
“Oh, good. Was kinda planning on keeping you around for a while.”
“Just a while?”
Steve shrugged without turning around. “Maybe forever.”
You sat in silence with his words, maybe a little longer than you meant to, because Steve whirled around, brows crinkled with worry.
“I’m sorry. Was that—that was too much, wasn’t it?” He blurted, shuffling over to where you were. “Did I just make things super weird? I didn’t mean like forever forever, I just thought it sounded smooth. Which, obviously it didn’t ‘cause—”
Leaning over the counter, you slid your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was sweet and firm and had Steve melting faster than the pad of butter he’d placed atop the pancake stack.
You let your forehead press against his when you pulled away. “I like forever.”
“I do too.” He grinned, nearly going cross-eyed trying to look at you up close. He dotted another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Y’know, I’m really enjoying the whole shutting me up with kisses thing you’ve got going on lately. I think you should keep doing it.”
“Oh, do you?” You chuckled, sitting back down in your seat. Steve came around the counter to slide onto the stool next to you, scooting your own stool close enough to his that his knees bracketed yours. Now it was his turn to bring you in for a kiss instead of an answer.
Forever with Steve suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world, especially if it meant you’d get to have mornings like this all the time.
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fanfic#if anyone reads tags how obvious is it how touch starved i am#i think extremely#can u tell 🧍🏻♀️
702 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve couldn’t understand why the Party wanted him around. He didn’t see why anyone would want to hang around some deadbeat that peaked in high school, he certainly wouldn’t. Case in point, all of his friends were going somewhere. Dustin was a genius, Robin was brilliant, and Eddie was going to be a world famous rockstar like Freddy Mercury was. Max was healing nicely and she would be something important, Lucas was great with people so he’d have a bright future, and Mike was… passionate. El and Will were fabulous so he was sure they would amount to everything.
Why would any of them drag themselves down with Steve? Robin could choose so many other soulmates better than Steve. He couldn’t relate to being a “band geek” in high school or working full time to save money for college, he couldn’t even get into college. In his mind, anyone could be a better friend to her than he could.
And why was Eddie dating him? Beautiful, smart, strategic, funny Eddie. He could have anyone he wanted and yet he settled for Steve. No matter how many times Eddie told him he loved him and couldn’t imagine life without him, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. What was so special about himself that all of these people stuck around?
Nothing had changed over the years, really. He was still the neglected boy sitting on the bleachers after baseball practice, waiting for his parents to come pick him up. Even back when he was little, his parents knew he was nothing special. They’d taken the first flight out of Hawkins and had hardly looked back since.
Hell, even Steve’s friends in high school figured it out. Tommy and Carol hadn’t said a word to encourage him to stay, they sent him away with silent glares and indifferent shrugs as if being a friend to Steve was more of an effort than it was worth.
And Nancy, his first heartbreak. She dropped him like everyone else always had. As soon as another boy showed her kindness and affection, she dropped Steve like a hot potato and broke his heart on the way out the door.
Steve knew it was only a matter of time before the Party grew tired of him. Every outing, Steve watched them like it would be the last time. Because just like everyone else, they would all leave and move onto better things. And Steve would be left broken with no one to pick up the pieces.
#Robin is mortified when she hears about this and makes it a point to prove how much she loves him every day#Steve will never not be her Dingus#Eddie too is horrified and starts showering Steve with affection#he’s never touch starved again after Eddie gets ahold of him#eventually Steve realizes that the Party will never leave him and they never do#stranger things#steddie#fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#introspection#robin buckley
626 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.
Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.
But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.
Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.
It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.
It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.
She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.
Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.
It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.
He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.
Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.
So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.
He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.
Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.
Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—
“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.
“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.
Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”
Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.
“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”
“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”
God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.
“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”
There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.
“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.
“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”
He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.
Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.
“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.
“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.
That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.
“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.
“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”
He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.
“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.
“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”
In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.
Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”
For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”
Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.
“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”
“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.
If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.
“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”
Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.
“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.
Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.
“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.
So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.
It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.
now with a part two!
#woag yearning hours bro#[into a megaphone] if u project onto steve harrington put ur hands UP#i literally came home tonight like. hm might have to ask one of my flatmates for a hug#and when they go ??? whats wrong (cos this bitch never hugs)#i was fully prepared 2 be like o it has just been too long since someone touched me haha!#like thats not zeeeeeeeee most pathetic shit ever (pathetic if its me. not if its YOU)#anyways. steve get hug where ruby cannot#<3#eddie would give delicious hugs u can't change my mind#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#touch starved steve harrington#that bitch needs a hug#ruby writes steddie#i rlly. came home and was like BLEH feeling dump and its like 2.6k. ok girl
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve is afraid to touch Eddie.
But Eddie isn’t afraid to touch Steve. At all.
He doesn’t seem to be afraid to touch anyone actually.
His hands are like magnets, finding their polar opposites no matter who happens to be there.
Steve looks down at his own hands. Can hands be lonely? What a tragic sentiment.
He was known as the guy who slept around, the guy who gave his teammates a pat on the back when they pulled off an unexpected win, the guy who physically surrounded himself with people who thought friendly touches were slaps on the back that left bruises.
But he couldn’t think of the last time he touched someone in a casual, friendly way.
Eddie never held back. Steve wanted to be like that.
So he started giving every kid hugs when they left. They didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by Max’s raised brows and Mike’s lip curl the first few times he does it.
He holds Robin’s hand during movie night and she gives him a look that says she’s worried about him, but won’t say anything.
Even Argyle isn’t immune to his attempts, throwing a high five that turns into a much-too-long hand clasp that turns into awkwardly staring into each others’ eyes before Jonathan interrupts the moment with a laugh. Whatever that was may have pushed Steve’s abilities too far.
So when he thinks he can subtly lean into Eddie’s shoulder at dinner with Nancy and Robin, just to make sure he’s capable of touching him without his heart exploding, he tries.
Eddie freezes mid sentence. Robin’s eyes widen from across the table. Nancy’s eyes are squinting closed so tightly, it’s a miracle she can even still see out of them.
So Steve runs. Like, actually gets up and runs out of the room.
There’s no saving whatever that was and he’s just going to have to come to terms with never being able to look any adult in his life in the eyes again when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder. He could pull away, but he knows who the hand belongs to, and despite how miserable he’ll be during this conversation, he knows Eddie won’t just let it slide.
So he turns.
He looks at Eddie’s face.
And he realizes that he made a grave mistake.
No, not with the casual touch of shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm.
With running.
Eddie’s wide eyes were practically begging Steve to explain. So before Eddie even said a thing, Steve leaned in, wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, and let his head rest against his shoulder.
He let his mind wander to how Eddie’d spent the last few months brushing his hand against Steve’s when passing him in the kitchen, how he squeezed his knee in the car as a thanks for driving him to appointments when Wayne was busy, how he wrapped his arm around his shoulders when the kids were being too much and Steve had his hands on his hips ready to be the mom they all claimed he was.
How even as casual as Eddie was with touch, he’d never hugged Steve.
“Why haven’t you hugged me?”
Steve didn’t know why he asked out loud. It’s not like he was accusing Eddie of anything. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was more hurt than he thought. Maybe he thought that Eddie held back because Steve was untouchable to him in the ways that mattered.
“What?”
Eddie’s voice was quiet, damn near whispering. Steve took a second to realize his hands had very loosely found a home on his hips.
“You hug everyone else. I just wondered if I did something to make you think you couldn’t hug me.”
It’s all out there now, Harrington. He’s either gonna think you’re crazy or he’s gonna think you’re needy. Not sure what’s worse.
Suddenly, hands were tightening on his hips. Before Steve could react, Eddie’s arms were wrapping around his waist and squeezing him against his front.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
Steve felt Eddie shake his head, burying it further into his shoulder.
“I just didn’t think you wanted me to.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“A hug from the freak isn’t exactly a gold star for the king.”
Steve wasn’t having that. Not now, not ever.
He pulled his head away, causing Eddie to do the same.
“We aren’t those people. We’re well past being what teenagers thought of us.”
“But you’re still…you.”
“Me? And who am I?”
“Steve Harrington. Completely unattainable in every way. Untouchable.”
“You’re touching me right now.”
Eddie shook his head as if to clear it.
“It’s different.”
“Why?”
“God, you’re worse than a toddler who just learned they can ask questions.”
Steve couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. He waited for Eddie to continue.
“You remember what I told you in the hospital?”
Steve did. Of course he did. It was what sent him on a full spiral with Robin about his own sexuality. He hadn’t necessarily panicked, he’d just been shocked to know that the feelings he’d had about Tom Cruise were not because he was a great actor.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Usually straight guys aren’t really into queers touching them, even if it is innocent.”
The way Eddie spoke about himself was in direct contrast to the way he acted. He was loud confidence, exuberantly himself. But when it came down to it, he was just as insecure as Steve.
“Well maybe straight guys do, but I’m not exactly straight.”
They stared at each other in silence.
“Robin! You fucking lied to me!”
Steve snorted as Eddie yelled back towards the dining room.
“When did she lie to you?”
“Last month’s movie night. You kept looking at me like you wanted to kiss me and I thought I was going insane so after I asked Robin and she insisted that I was imagining it. Insisted!”
Steve couldn’t help the little giggle he let out at that. Robin was a great friend. A terrible liar, but a great friend.
“We could do that now.”
“Do what?”
Eddie sounded exasperated. Steve kind of loved it.
“Kiss.”
“Now?”
Steve nodded.
“We just hugged for the first time and now you want to kiss?”
Steve bit his lip, nodded again.
“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna have my hands full with you aren’t I?”
“And full of me too, if you know what I mean.”
Eddie groaned as Steve leaned further in.
“You gonna kiss me or should I do it?”
“You’re the brave one today.”
So Steve decided he could be brave and touch Eddie again. He placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently pulling him in so they’re lips barely brushed against each other.
Steve always loved the anticipation before a kiss, but Eddie was impatient.
When Eddie closed the final few centimeters between them, Steve felt his stomach clench and his heart stop.
It was more than he expected to happen when he leaned into Eddie. But if leaning in is all Eddie needed, Steve could keep being brave and touch him.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Harringrove core
#harringrove#can go both way#they actually might both be touch starved bye#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#billy hargrove x steve harrington#steve x billy#incorrect harringrove quotes#harringrove meme#harringroveera#harringrove headcanon#harringrove textpost#harringrove au#harringrove ship#harringrove memes#harringrove + text posts#harringrove core
503 notes
·
View notes
Text
steve being overly tactile with billy when they become friends. slinging an arm around billy’s shoulder’s while they’re watching a movie. putting his hands on billy’s waist to move past him. tucking billy’s hair behind his ear to look at his earring. slipping a finger through the loop of billy’s jeans to tug him closer. grabbing billy’s chin to tilt his head because oh, you have freckles..
steve telling himself that sure he touches billy a lot but. he’s always been a touchy guy. it doesn’t mean anything.
steve not accepting that he has a crush on billy and that’s the reason he can’t keep his hands to himself.
because obviously steve isn’t a queer.
as if.
billy being simultaneously overwhelmed with and loving all the attention. because it’s steve. steve pressing his face into billy’s neck when they’re high. pulling billy’s hand close to play with his ring. running his hand over billy’s stomach when they pass out in the same bed and he thinks billy’s still asleep. tracing circles around billy’s ankle as he listens to billy read.
because it’s steve. steve who billy’s had a thing for since he arrived in hawkins. steve who can’t like billy like that. steve who isn’t like billy. steve who likes girls.
steve who called byers a queer.
billy wondering if this is just what it’s like to have a friend. a best friend. if this is just what you do. because billy doesn’t know. wouldn’t know. no one’s ever gotten close enough. billy thinking it’s all in his head. that he’s twisting his and steve’s relationship. making it into something it’s not.
steve staring at billy’s lips and wondering what it’d be like to touch them. billy wondering if steve’s gonna break his heart without even trying.
#thinking about how steve’s hands automatically went for the waist during the fight#steve harrington#billy hargrove#harringrove#internalised homophobia steve is literally so real to me you don’t even understand#just hits different idk#he’s not even being nasty this time not intentionally anyway he’s just repressed as hell#anyway#they are in LOVE goddammit#and billy is so touch starved#the lack of communication is insane#like#sort it out#my words#cw internalized homophobia#i don’t know where this came from#that’s a lie i was absolutely thinking about joe’s hands sorry#ickyspeaks
632 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve won’t stop touching Billy.
He’s there with an arm around Billy’s shoulders when they’re walking into school in the morning, laughing off the elbow to the ribs he gets in return. He’s a line of warmth along Billy’s side when they’re eating lunch in the cafeteria with the basketball team, pressed together from shoulders to thighs.
He’s feet tripping Billy in the hallways and hands grabbing him around the waist, goofing off in between classes and during free periods, then blinking innocently at teachers when they’re told off for making a racket. He laughs in Billy’s ear like it’s a secret just for him.
When the weekend comes, Billy tries not to count the hours until he sees Steve again, tries to ignore the way his skin misses him, lies in bed and runs his fingers over his chest, imagining it’s Steve’s hand leaving a trail of warmth instead of his own.
Being alone with Steve is a revelation.
Whatever shit they do to pass the time, Steve’s got a hand on him somehow. One hand on Billy’s thigh when they’re eating pizza. Fingers in his hair while they’re watching a movie. Sprawling all over Billy when they’re smoking weed and listening to music, singing along, laughing at each other when they get the words wrong. Trading kisses like they’ve got all the time in the world.
There’s this thing Steve does. Billy doesn’t know if he even notices it, but it’s become this thing that’s a better indicator of which way is up than trying to find the sun when you’re underwater.
They’re sprawled on the floor of Steve’s room, listening to Billy’s Hendrix record, volume low so they can still talk quietly to each other. Their legs are tangled together, denim scratching on denim, and Steve stretched out an arm so Billy could lay his head on it, and Billy thinks it’s already numb but Steve hasn’t complained yet. Billy’s got a hand on Steve’s face, pretending he’s not tracing his moles, and they’re so close together their noses are almost touching. Steve’s talking about the movie they went to see Friday night with a smile on his face. Billy doesn’t think he’s smiling about the movie.
Steve’s hand is settled on the curve of Billy’s waist, large and warm, pushed under his shirt. Over his ribs, Steve’s thumb strokes back and forth, carving a path on Billy’s skin, making it tingle. Steve always does this.
Hand on his thigh, his neck, his face, fingers interlocked with fingers, thumbs nestled together, Billy will feel Steve’s thumb stroking over his skin. Billy’s true north.
#I will romanticize everything I can get my hands on#watch me#harringrove#billy x steve#billy hargrove#touch starved billy hargrove#steve harrington#sorcery writes#mine
686 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve has gone to bed with a lot of people.
he's poured his heart into loving them, holding them close, cuddling in, and willing them not to leave, and maybe that's where he went wrong.
because steve has gone to bed with a lot of people, but he's never woken up with them.
every time, they always find a way to sneak out, slide their way out of his bed, and untangle their fingers from his grasp. and he thinks the ones who leave don't notice that he always wakes up when they leave.
so when he curls into bed with Eddie, he prepares himself for a heartbreak in the morning. only it never comes, because Eddie stayed.
and when he woke up, Eddie's hand was still wrapped around his own.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#sad steve harrington#steddie ficlet#touch starved steve harrington#sleepy steve#steve needs a hug#soft eddie munson#soft eddie#eddie x steve#literal sleeping together#stranger things
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
msanimedolphin
Ms.AnimeDolphin
nerdo23
Random things from an Insanely Sane Person
as4801-blog
AS 4801-AS4801 Safety Management System
sleepy-bonexz
RAAHHHH!!
male-affection
Male affection