Stobin Sketch Night 💜

Hellooooooooooo SOLDIER.

Related to my previous Rockstar Eddie Munson x Unimpressed Normal Guy Steve pose, I think when the RPF fanfiction comes onto Steve's radar he is extremely pissy about it.

I didn't really have an idea of when the original post was taking place, whether it was set in the cannon era and he finds out about RPF as it becomes a thing or if it's closer to the present day, but either way I think of Steve as someone who isn't very in tune with pop culture beyond a very shallow level of knowing only the very biggest music and movie icons by sight.

So either way fanfiction and RPF are not on his radar at all until he starts dating Eddie and starts being aware of his boyfriend's influence on pop culture and hoard of die-hard fans.

Eventually, Robin ends up sending him links to some truly terrible Sold Myself to One Direction RPF self-insert fanfictions centered around his partner. At first, Steve thinks it's funny because these people all write Eddie as super suave and sexy and imagining Eddie saying some of the dialogue makes him laugh harder than he has maybe in his entire life.

Until he skims through five or six of them and realizes that once you get through the more asinine details, the basic story elements are remarkably familiar.

MC gets reluctantly dragged to a place where Corroded Coffin is. MC is uninterested in whatever is happening. Eddie spots them in the crowd looking uninterested and instantly falls in love. Eddie woos a continually unimpressed MC until they fall in love and live happily ever after, Amen.

Steve has to put the screen away and just stare into the middle distance for a while once he realizes his real life is the stuff of a 14 year old's delusional fantasy.

"Holy shit, Ed," Steve hisses. "We're going to die."

Eddie, teeth chattering, rolls his eyes. "No, we're not, you big baby," he says. Sure, it's January and there's a foot of snow outside and the heater in their little shithole apartment is dead. But they're not going to die. "Go get under the electric blanket."

Steve shuffles off, still complaining. "You won't love me anymore if my toes fall off. You'll call me stump feet and leave me for a man with 10 more toes than me."

"Oh my god," Eddie says, laughing. Steve's lucky he's cute. "I'll love you even if both your legs fall off."

"Will you love me if I'm dead? Because I'm going to die."

"Oh, just you now?" Eddie turns on the burners and the oven, opens the oven door wide, and starts a pot of water boiling.

"I forgot you're indestructible. Unkillable."

"Hell yeah I am. Like a vampire."

"Or a roach."

"Wow, maybe I won't make any hot chocolate afterall."

"Eddie, nooo," Steve whines, instantly pitiful. "Baby, I love you and all your roach qualities. They're my favorite qualities."

"Okay, fuck you, I'm making hot chocolate for myself."

"Nooo," Steve wails. From the couch, Eddie can see him flopping over dramatically, already burritoed in two blankets. "I am forsaken. Left to despair and desolation. Banished into the cold, chocolate-less night."

"Damn, we've really expanded your vocabulary."

"Fuck you," Steve says, before falling back to whining. "Will anyone save me? Will anyone take this cold, weary soul into his arms? Where is my roach prince?"

Eddie, face hurting from grinning, takes over two mugs to the couch. "Here you goof, now quit bitchin.'"

"My prince! In all his gross, buggy glory!"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

Part One

A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends behind--for Nancy Wheeler. 

This was a lie. 

It wasn’t even one he encouraged--and Steve had done some damage control in the aftermath of that whole thing with the tunnels. 

He volunteered, dropped hints to the right crowd. 

It took time, but eventually, his insistence that he’d changed, left his old crew behind to become a better version of himself, began to stick.

Or at least it did with the people who mattered.  

It took Starcourt for him to realize that wasn’t really the truth either. 

Steve did want to be a better person. He was working actively on being a better person. 

But…

(But he still heard screams from a bus in the junkyard when he slept. Felt fear lick down his spine as he charged in, knowing he was the only thing standing between three dumb kids and a painful, shitty death. 

But he still heard Dustin, full of conviction, tell his friends that Steve was the only person he could find. 

But now he had a “bad” shoulder, a “twinge” in his ribs, and a head that was plagued by migraines, all of which made him look in the mirror and ask himself “What if I hadn’t gone with them?) 

…you couldn’t be there for someone, couldn’t protect someone, if you were too busy playing high school bullies with your friends. 

Robin would likely argue these were simply the reasons he wanted to be a better person, but Robin now ranked as one of Steve’s top 10 personal regrets--even if he was pretty sure they’d become best friends.

Because Steve was the oldest. He’d graduated high school for fucks sake, he should have shut Dustin down the second he realized what was happening was legitimate. 

He absolutely should not have let Robin get involved and Erica--

He can’t even really think about Erica, no matter how much Erica herself argues elsewise. 

At the very least, Steve can admit to himself he protected them in the end. 

Got beat to shit and had to fake his death alongside Hopper to do it, but they all got out. 

Alive.

Unscathed.

Hopefully to put this whole fucking thing past them once Owens finished cleaning house in the government. 

Unfortunately life--and Eddie fucking Munson--was not ready to put anything to rest. 

Munson in fact, seemed hellbent on disturbing what he could--and Steve, wholly haunted by the fact the kids always came to him, couldn’t let him do it alone.

At least, he thought with grim distaste, as he followed Munson’s weaving path to the ruins of Starcout,  he was getting his car out of it. 

xXx

Uncanny valley doesn’t do Steve’s feelings justice. 

Starcourt was laid out in a giant L, and coming at it from the outer edges like he and Munson did means everything looks disturbingly normal. 

Off putting, if only because it’s 10 in the morning and not a soul is in the mall, but otherwise? 

Like nothing ever went wrong.

As they move closer to the center, things begin to unravel. 

It’s not noticeable at first. Not unless you’re looking. The litter on the floor, the little piles of weird looking debris. 

The stains.

Nothing that outwardly screams “something horrible happened here” but it's coming--and though Munson is creeping along just as quietly as Steve is, he knows the guy isn’t on edge in the same way. 

Why would he be? Nothing Steve said had managed to deter him, and given Steve can’t exactly explain what happened or why he’s playing possum, Munson was plenty confident about going forward with his little B&E. 

At least not until they finally turn the corner, and the destruction hits them full force. 

Glass and chunks of plaster cover the ground like confetti. Lights hang sideways or lay smashed on the floor, as do pieces of doors (and railings and half of the entire upper floor.) 

The place looks like something out of a disaster film--which Steve supposes, is exactly what it is. 

If the disaster was supernatural in nature, and also caused by a giant monster made out of the melted flesh. 

(God, his life was weird.)

“What the hell happened here?” Eddie said, eyes wide as he took in the damage. 

Steve tried to imagine what it must look like for him. Looked at the scene and tried to pretend he was someone who wasn’t in the know, who thought the mall had been destroyed by a fire and subsequent structural collapse.

Could almost convince himself one could buy it--if it weren’t for the smears of blood that still stained the floor. 

He stared at said smears, trying to match up which puddle was the one Billy died in, in comparison to all the other stains that the feds hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Recalled the way Max screamed, fighting her way towards her step-brother when he finally fell.

The yell Billy himself had let out, when he’d managed to shake off the Mindflayer, long enough to give El the time she needed. 

Steve hadn’t really thought about it until now. 

Billy’s death.

 Hadn’t really had time too, given Owens had pulled him and a handful of others out of the ambulance and forced them into hiding.

(From the fucking Russians still hanging around, apparently, though that had been Owens flimsy excuse. Murray and Hopper and long guessed it was something far closer to home. 

“You ever think about how weird that was? That Russians made it to Hawkins and no one ever noticed?” Hopper had asked, a beer in the same hand that had an IV sticking out of the back of it. “Given the lab was right across town you think they’d be watching for that kinda thing.” 

“Please Jim, I am begging you, for once, to use your head. They didn’t get here without assistance and they certainly didn’t do it without help from our own government.” Murray had scoffed in return. 

He held two lit cigarettes in his hand, and was reaching for a third.

“Why the hell would the US military let in Russians?"

“An excellent question, and I’ll return it with one of my own. If we assume we are being lied too, and all the Russians are actually gone, why would Owens still need to hide us?"

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”)

Now, Steve found he had all the time in the world to contemplate Billy Hargrove and his mostly unnoticed possession. His supposed sacrifice. 

 Had it redeemed him, the way movies and TV shows always said that kind of death, did? 

Steve imagined the sneered grin on Billy’s face that night at the Byers. Felt phantom knuckles brush across his face, the fury that had ignited within him when Billy hadn’t gone for him, but for Lucas.

Compared it to his own fight with Jonathan in ‘82. 

The words he’d allowed Tommy to spray upon the theater sign regarding his own girlfriend. The camera he’d destroyed. 

The demogorgon in the Byers house, lights flashing as it tore through the wall. 

If things had been different, if Steve hadn’t survived back then--would people wonder the same things about him? Would they ask themselves if his sacrifice was worth it--if it proved he was a good person, under it all? 

“Harrington?” 

Steve jumped, startling when Munson nudged him. 

“You good, man?” He asked, and Steve almost laughed at him because no, he definitely was not good. 

He can’t say that though, and so he does what he always does. Shoves the thoughts down, puts the feelings back inside a box in his mind. 

Lies. 

“Yeah--fine.” He said, brushing off his staring. “Come on, Scoops is that way.” 

He gestures, ignoring the concerned look that’s overtaken Munson’s face. 

Panicking he knows, will not get his keys back, and neither will it help him learn what idiot is poking around the Upside Down this time. 

Because for all of Murray's conspiracies, he doesn’t actually think the feds are Munson’s benefactor. Owens had been inclined to agree, when Steve first reported this entire situation back. 

It’s definitely not his parents, who are conveniently overseas in London. 

That leaves very little options, including a disturbing possibility of a new player to the game, and given all the green goo Steve had seen, the way they all know it does--something, to help power the gate... 

It’d be nice to get ahead of things for once, instead of scrambling to catch up. 

(Screw Hopper and Owens and everyone who told Steve to stay out of it.

He knew damn well Munson wouldn’t listen to his warnings. 

Wouldn’t back off and definitely wouldn’t leave it alone.

Hopper’s half-delirious (and morphine fueled) rants about this finally being a wakeup call for Munson if he didn’t listen wasn’t going to make up for the blood on Steve's hands if the guy went in there without him and died. ) 

Walking through Scoop's is almost more unnerving than walking through the mall itself. Likely because Steve spent time here, and seeing it in it's destroyed state--lights off, ice cream melted and fouling the air with the a rancid stench do him no favors.

The You Suck board is laying haphazardly on the floor.

Steve forces himself to walk by it, and breathes only through his mouth.

“Your locker, my liege!” Munson crows as they enter the back part of Scoop’s, throwing out an arm at it like he’s presenting a game show prize. “Shall we see if the treasure we seek is behind door number one?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but remains quiet as he steps up and enters his combination. 

It swings open as easily as it ever had, and there, hanging from the crooked hook, is the car keys Steve is so desperately after. 

Munson throws his hands in the air, like Steve’s just shot the winning basket of a game. 

“Score!” He yells, and Steve grins reflexively even as he shushes him. 

“Now," Munson says dramatically, "the hunt begins for our second prize.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I told you I don’t have a class ring.” 

“And yet they have me searching for one anyway.” Like a hound zeroing in on a trail, he immediately orients to the back of Scoop’s, waltzing through to the backrooms like this was everyday for him.

Given his confusing and handwaved excuse of how he got involved in this, Steve suppose it could be. 

(He had decided, sometime between the first and fifth time he’d tried to get Eddie to explain how, exactly he’d been roped into this little mission, that the man could never meet Dustin.

Henderson was already too good at steamrolling over Steve, explaining nothing other than the facts that would force them all to do what the little shit wanted, all the while leading them further into trouble.

He didn’t need to befriend someone like Munson, whose mastery of the same bullshit had him doing, well.

This.) 

To the end of the hall Eddie skipped, and Steve kept his eyes on his jacket. Some sort of demon thing was posed on the back, a shirt that had been ripped up and resewn to be a backpatch. 

It was better than looking at anything else back here.

It took them no time at all to reach their destination. 

The door down had a shiny new lock on it. A big thing, with chains so thick Steve briefly wondered if they were worried about containment. 

Had they pulled something through the gate, before it had exploded?

The base was large--larger than Steve had seen, and he'd passed room after room when running around down there.

No one had the time to explore, and one would assume any and all monsters had been removed from the premise but there was always that little tickling feeling.

The one that chanted 'What if...'

Unfortunately, the lock did nothing to detour this little jaunt. 

Munson dropped to his knees in front of a door, hair pin in hand. He fiddled with the lock for a moment and Steve took it to visualize how different things might have been if the older teen had been there with them. 

How much easier some of it would have been. 

(Not that Steve wanted to involve anyone else in this mess.

He'd carry the guilt of dragging Erica and Robin both into it for the rest of his life, not matter what either had to say about the matter. Dustin he knew he couldn't stop, but then, Steve doubted they'd have even made it that far without the girls.)

A click sounded, and Eddie looked up, eyes bright with a wild grin on his face. 

“Open sesame.” He purred as he stood, the door opening under his hands. He pushed on it, revealing the dark gaping maw of a stairwell.

Dread hit Steve like a wave.

“We shouldn’t go down there.” He said.

They had already had this conversation, but Steve felt the overwhelming urge to revisit it on grounds that he still isn’t sure how exactly, Munson got him to agree to come in the first place, and also, now that he was thinking of it, because the guy reminded him of Dustin.

“We shouldn’t be here at all.” Munson countered, springing back to his feet. “But some of us need this little thing called money.”

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, as if Steve needed the extra visual.

“If you’re giving me the car--and the car keys--what's the point of going after the ring?” Steve tried, staring down the stairwell before him. “Aren’t they gonna like, not pay you for not finding anything?”

Munson made a dismissive noise, waving his hands in the air like he was dispersing smoke. 

“Eddie.” Steve said, and knew by the way Munson looked at him that the use of his first name hit as intended. “I mean it, man.” 

There was no point in going through with the rest of it. No point at all.

“And I told you I was given a side mission to my main mission, and a little industry secret for ya here Harrington,"

Steve watched as cheshire-cat like grin lit up Munson’s face, in a way eerie similar to Dustin’s gummy smile. "the side missions always pay more.” 

“What's under there isn’t--this isn’t--it’s not safe.” Steve fired back, hating how he fumbled the words, like a ball slipping through his hands. 

Munson scoffed.

“Life ain’t safe.”  

“This is different.” He tried to argue and hated how stubborn Munson was being about this.

It almost made him feel bad about all the time’s Robin had protested. 

(Idly Steve wondered if this was how she felt. Like she was getting dragged along--like she had to go. 

Did her insides feel scooped out? Stomach hollow and head hurting?

Or had the excitement blinded her too much to feel the way the walls seemed to press in?)

Steve’s gut clenched with worry, and he shook his head to clear the anxiety.

Met Munson's gaze and desperately thought of something to say to convince him to walk away.

Some of that must have bled onto his face, because Munson was giving him an odd, searching look.

“I’ll make you a deal, Steve-O." He said. "You give me two good reasons why we shouldn’t go down there, and if they’re really convincing, I might agree to skip it.” 

“I signed NDAs.” Steve sighed, because this was an argument they’d also already had. 

Twice in fact--once, when Eddie first found him, alive and very much not dead as reported, and the second time when he approached Steve with his “retrieval project.” 

(Both times at the goddamn gas station, which Steve would now be avoiding for life.) 

On eyebrow raised. “Over a mallfire?” 

“I think,” Steve said dryly, gesturing around to the destruction that surrounded them, “that you’ve figured out it wasn’t a mallfire.” 

Technically he wasn't even supposed to say that, but then, Steve had long stopped caring if he actually broke the stupid thing.

The real issue was that the story sounded like something out of a bad horror film--fake and ridiculous. If he tried to explain it, Munson would assume Steve had finally cracked.

Or, more likely, decide he was being made fun of, and react accordingly.

(They couldn't afford to fight here, and neither did Steve want Munson storming off.)

“Well duh. But then, you’re the one who won’t say what really happened here.” Munson waggled his eyebrows in a way that was so cartoony Steve was mildly impressed a person could pull it off. 

He sighed a second time. 

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You keep saying that and you keep not trying me.” Eddie leaned against the door frame. “Come on Harrington. Two reasons.”

Steve tried.

Ran through what might convince Munson to leave it all alone. 

Figured the guy was kind of like Dustin, in that he couldn’t be too vague (because it would just intrigue him) and he couldn’t be too honest (because any idiot could see Munson would be all over some kind of government conspiracy.) 

“The fact the building might pancake on us at any moment isn't enough?" He asked, unsure if sounding desperate was the right move here (an equally unsure if he could hide it if it was.)

He’d hadn’t tried this route before--hadn’t thought Munson would go for it. 

Not when he'd waived off every other attempt Steve could think of, to stop this.

“Nah, I trust my source, this place will hold.” Munson leaned forward, deep into Steve’s space and though Steve waivered back, he let the older teen get close. “You’ve been off ever since we came in here, Harrington. I want to know why.” 

“I was in the fire. Munson. I did almost die."

He still had a bruise left to prove it.

"That ain't it and you know it."

"I don't know what else to tell you then." Steve said, angry. why was the guy making this so hard? Why couldn't he just fucking listen!?

“Not even two reasons?”

“There’s not--” Steve closed his eyes, frustrated. “I’ve given you far more than two reasons!” 

“Not any good ones.” 

“I don’t know what you want from me. "Steve admitted finally. "because I told you, you wouldn’t believe the rest of it--” 

Munson didn't let his rant pick up steam. instead he pulled himself back, interrupting Steve.

“Then down the rabbit hole we go, Alice!”

Quick as a flash he was  down the stairs and Steve bit back a curse as he rushed to follow.

“Munson--come on, wait!” He yelled back.

Eddie, of course, did no such thing. 

It took everything he had in him to rush after, but Steve did it anyway.

What else was he good for?

*grips your shoulders tightly* listen to me. you HAVE to make stobin weirder, okay? you have to make them the embodiment of that Secret Third Thing™️. they’re those cats at a shelter that you can’t separate for anything. make them do examinations of each others bodies cause they’re worried about a health issue. make them share a single piece of gum. make them swap pronouns and names and clothes on a regular basis. make them shower together. i need one of the kids to call for steve in a different room and have robin come to help instead because they’re one person. i need steve to show up to work wearing robins tag cause she’s too sick to come in. they have to get weirder, do you understand? it’s for their health.

i live here now.

Modern AU.

Steve is a bit clueless about social media. He had been on it for a few years but realized it was detrimental for his mental health and went on a much needed cleanse. And besides, he would get anything truly important from Robin, and anything not so important from Dustin.

And really, Dustin is the one blamed for this whole mess. It started with a clock sounding app that Steve kind of brushed off until it was everywhere. TikTok.

He didn’t download it because he heard several rants from Robin about how she swore she was going to spend ten minutes on it before suddenly realizing hours had passed. And Steve felt glad that that wasn’t him.

But soon enough, TikTok would get a little too involved in Steve’s life.

See, unbeknownst to him, Steve was getting a little famous on the app because of Dustin Henderson. The kid had posted some video of Steve giving him a lecture about the importance of calling and texting when he gets home that had gone a bit viral.

And it wasn’t because people were agreeing with what Steve was saying. They just thought he was hot.

And Dustin thought it wouldn’t hurt if Steve just… didn’t really know about the small fame he was racking up. He worked from home anyways, and he didn’t go out in public too much to be recognized. So Dustin kept up with the videos until Steve noticed one day that his phone was pointed at him.

“I’m just saying… Dude, are you filming me?”

In the video, the phone is put down and the screen goes black before some muffled arguing is heard in the background and the phone is picked up, showing Dustin shrieking while being held back. The camera flips to reveal Steve staring at it confused. “What the hell? Is this that Tiktok app you’re talking about?”

The video cuts itself off after reaching the time limit Dustin had set. But Steve is still confused and presses on a bit about it until Dustin confesses he has a bit of a fan following. Steve is now way more than confused until Dustin shows him all the videos and comments.

Of course, that leads to another lecture that has Dustin willingly admitting to being in the wrong. But Steve, as always, gives in a little and tells the kid that if he wants to keep filming then it’s fine, “But don’t post that video.”

“I won’t. I won’t. Jeez,” Dustin promises before going to his drafts and uploading the video.

And Steve thinks that maybe that’ll be the end to it. Maybe the people won’t like him now that he’s noticed the camera.

And that is definitely not the case.

The video goes very viral because not only does it show Steve closer up, but Eddie Munson, the up and coming artist, comments on it “👀”.

And fans kind of blow up over the comment, and they beg Dustin to ask him what he thinks of Eddie and his music. Of course, Dustin is more than willingly to comply.

He goes over to Steve’s and starts filming as Steve is putting the finishing touches on a homemade pizza, so he’s a bit distracted to notice. Dustin asks Alexa to play one of Eddie’s older song that’s been climbing the charts as Eddie’s name has become more well known. Steve kind of smiles and sings the words under his breath.

“So, Steve, you like this song?”

Steve rolls his eyes as he slides the pizza into the oven replying, “You know it’s my favorite.” Then he turns to Dustin and gives him a look before saying, “I told you, if you’re filming you have to tell me-”

The video cuts off and is posted with the caption @ eddiethefreakmunson this is for you.

And Steve goes on with his life without knowing anything about the way the internet is blowing up when Eddie comments, “Please tell me he’s single.”

And Dustin, being as sneaky and subtle as he can, brings up Eddie Munson that night after seeing the comment that is posted quickly after the post - he even follows Dustin, and it takes all his willpower not to freak out in front of Steve. But Steve just shakes his head and says he has no idea who Eddie is which doesn’t surprise Dustin much. Steve was never one to really look into bands.

Dustin calmly suggests, “So, I was wondering… there’s this like thing on TikTok where people are asking their parents and grandparents to rank celebrities that they don’t know. And I thought it would maybe be cool if we made a video of that.”

Steve looks at him for a few moments and thinks about it. It’s not like anything will happen if he voices his opinions about random famous people, right?

Wrong.

He just kind of shrugs, and Dustin asks to use his phone. Steve hands it over, and Dustin quickly unlocks it.

He sets up his camera and starts recording.

“Hey, you guys know Steve here. He’s agreed to rate some celebrities today, and we’re going to start with Eddie Munson. Steve, did you know that he sings one of your favorite songs?”

Steve eyes the camera uneasily and replies, “No?”

Dustin smiles. “The one I played earlier. Your favorite.”

“Oh,” Steve replies and just shrugs. “I just know it’s by Corroded Coffin or something.”

Dustin grin gets wider. “And have you ever seen a picture of the lead singer from the band?”

Steve looks at the camera again and back at Dustin. “No? But you know this. I’m not really too big on social media.”

“Alright, so can you close your eyes while I pull up a picture of Eddie Munson?”

Steve’s eyes narrow at Dustin. “I really don’t trust you but sure.” He sighs and puts his hands over his eyes not sure how he got here.

He assumes Dustin is talking to the camera as he says, “So, this is the picture I’m going to… Focus. Come on. Damn it-”

“Language,” Steve lectures with his hands still over his eyes.

“See what I have to put up with?” Dustin asks and Steve scoffs. “Oh, finally it’s focused. It’s this picture if you’re wondering.” There’s a bit of a clatter on the table below Steve before Dustin continues, “Now, Steve, you can open your eyes.”

Steve’s hands fall down dramatically as he glares at Dustin. He can see his phone is laying on the table in front of him. “Now was that really neces…” he trails off as he looks down and slowly finishes, “sary… Woah.”

On his phone is a picture of a guy with longer hair, holding a guitar, and grinning at the camera in a genuine way that tugs at Steve’s heart. He realizes Dustin typed the name into Google and just went to images, so he swipes to look at more. He smiles and even laughs at the more ridiculous images with him sticking out his tongue and making little horns with his fingers and even one where he’s completely mid air wiping out on a small stage.

“Steve’s scrolling through all the pictures you find when you search for ‘Eddie Munson’ on Google if you were wondering what he’s looking at.”

The voice snaps Steve back to reality and he slightly startles as he looks at the camera. He feels a blush rise on his face as he asks, “Is it still recording?”

“Yes it is,” Dustin says sounding a little too proud of himself. “And Steve, what would you rate this man on a scale of one to ten?”

Steve glances back down at the picture and smiles. “This is the one who sings my favorite song?”

“Yep!”

Steve looks at the camera and says, “He deserves way more than a scale from one to ten but even then he’s always going to be off the charts.”

“So a ten out of ten.”

Steve scoffs, “An eleven at least.”

“And Steve, one last question.”

He hums in response slightly confused.

“Are you single?”

“Dude, you know I’m single. Why are you asking?”

Dustin smiles. “And that’ll do for this video!” He giggles as he ends it and types up something before posting it.

Steve feels like he’s out of the loop about something, but he’s not sure what. He decides it’s better not to ask. “No more TikTok for the rest of your visit, okay?”

“More than okay,” Dustin says with a smile before launching into the latest drama in his life. Steve settles in and listens while the pizza cooks.

Eddie has already commented, “Marry me?”

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next day, Steve wakes up to his phone blowing up with notifications, but what worries him the most is the twelve missed calls from Robin. He calls her and she immediately answers, “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Eddie Munson?!”

“I’m what?” Steve says groan and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Your name is everywhere, dingus, talking about how you’re Eddie’s TikTok boyfriend!” Robin yells.

“I thought you offloaded TikTok,” Steve replies confused.

“Oh my gosh, that is not what you should be worried about right now. Stop dodging my question!”

Steve grunts as he gets out of bed and makes his way to his coffeemaker. “Robin, don’t you think if I were dating some famous dude that I would’ve told you, my best friend?”

There’s a huff on the other line. “Well when you put it like that…”

Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Just, these sources are really convincing! Especially with all his comments on Dustin’s TikToks about you.”

Steve freezes. “He’s commented on those?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s all over how he recently commented on all videos that Dustin posted in the past few weeks saying stuff like ‘mine.’ and ‘Gareth is about to steal my phone because I can’t stop gushing over Steve.’ And blah blah blah Steve this Steve that.”

“Who’s Gareth?” Steve can’t help but ask as a bit of jealousy twists in his stomach.

“Oh my god! You cannot be jealous because of a stranger!”

“He’s a hot stranger who sings my favorite song!”

Robin laughs hard on the other line, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t either,” Steve says with a laugh, fully in disbelief about it all. He almost expects Robin to tell him it’s a joke, but he puts her on speaker so he can scroll through his notifications all about Eddie Munson. He takes a deep breath and decides to Google Eddie again except this time one of the top search results is “Eddie Munson and TikTok Steve.” He clicks on it and feels his heart pound at the stupid articles that claim they’ve been dating for years and his “Marry me” comment was an actual marriage proposal.

“Oh, that is not a flattering picture of me,” Steve groans and keeps scrolls. “Shit! Robin, there’s a picture of you and me here!”

“No shit!” Robin shrieks.

Steve looks at the article and laughs, “They think that I’m straight and you’re my girlfriend.”

“No way!” Robin yells laughing. “Life cannot be real right now.”

Steve keeps scrolling until he suddenly closes out of the tab. Life really can’t be real. He takes a moment to settle in it. He’s probably going to be recognized a bit now until this whole thing dies down, and shit, they might try to dig into his personal life. Will this effect his job? His reputation? What are people going to find? Are they going to make crazy shit up about him?

Steve lets out a deep breath and runs his hands over his face. Some of the internet thinks he’s dating Eddie Munson. He scoffs at the idea but thinks about how Eddie has somehow commented on all these videos about him. But maybe he was drunk or something. Robin’s right. He doesn’t know the man.

“I’m in some deep shit, aren’t I?” Steve asks.

“We’re in this together, you know,” Robin replies. Then there’s a clattering sound and some freaking out on the other line.

“Robin?! Are you okay??” Steve yells into the phone.

“Yes! Yes! Sorry. Yes. It’s just…” she takes a deep breath. “Eddie Munson followed me on Instagram. And he messaged me. Oh my god.”

“What does it say?” Steve asks, stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“Holy shit, he wants to know if he can get your number and understands if not, but he can’t find your social media anywhere and now he’s freaking out about asking if you’re straight but then taking it back saying he doesn’t want to out you or anything. And this is actually really funny he just keeps sending stuff, but holy shit Steve! What do I say?”

Steve takes a moment to think about it. If he says no, the whole buzz will kind of die down, and his life might return back to normal. He could get Dustin to delete the videos, and maybe it would bruise Eddie’s ego but maybe the sources would just assume Steve was straight, it was some publicity stunt, or thing just didn’t work out. Everything would go back to normal, and he wouldn’t have to think about Eddie and the way some of his songs have gotten him through shit, or how his smile is easily the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

He takes a deep breath and replies, “Okay. Uh, give him my number.” His eyes widen. This is happening.

Robin replies, “Sent! Oh my god. This is the coolest moment of my entire life.”

There’s a notification from a new number that appears on Steve’s phone soon after that says, hi uh this is Eddie :P

“He texted me,” Steve breathes out and shakily types out Hello, I’m Steve :). “And I replied.”

There’s already the bubbles that appear as Eddie types something else before they disappear and reappear and disappear again before reappearing. A message finally appears.

How do you feel about FaceTime?

Steve stares at the message and says, “Robin, I’m going to have to call you back. I’m about to FaceTime Eddie Munson.”

Life is not real.

Wayne’s opinion on Richard Harrington is not good and his opinion on his kid is not all that great either. He didn’t forget all the times Eddie complained about the boy and his friends, no sir.

Eddie says that Steve has turned over a new leaf but Wayne thinks the kid is rude. He’s over at their house all the time and ignores Wayne half the time when he’s talking to him. Kid is eating the food out of his kitchen and can’t even give him the time of day?

He mentions it to Eddie once when Steve wasn’t around and Eddie, around a mouthful of Frosted Flakes, asks, “Did he have his hearing aids in?”

“What?”

“Yeah, he hates ‘em so he never wears them,” Eddie shrugs. “Can’t hear for shit without ‘em though.”

Well.

Now Wayne feels like an asshole.