They're Being Chased By A Monster And Yet Their First Instinct At Hearing Dustin Singing On The Radio

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

more twitter thoughts with @pukner and @sangrientojoe

Platonic Stobin bodyswap AU idea I'll never write. This has been in my drafts for over a year (since July 2023 per the timestamp)

Post season 3; During the season 3 bathroom confession scene Robin came out to Steve, and Steve came out to her. She knows he's bi, and she's the only one who knows. Swap starts off slowly for Steve and Robin. Little moments of vertigo where the world doesn't look right for a few seconds, that progresses to black out periods of time spanning 5-15 minutes. It's them switching bodies but it's so traumatizing (they are FREAKING out) that they don't remember it. So, it's like they're just losing moments in time, which still freaks them out.

Then one day they wake up and they're... each other. And they just don't go back.

And Steve can't really pass as Robin to her parents but thankfully they just blame it on 'moody teenage angst' and "you can talk to us about anything babygirl we love you so much and we're here when you need us." Which. Yeah, Steve cries about. But it also comes with the side of GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I HAVE TO FINISH HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN??? I CAN'T PLAY THE TRUMPET ROBIN YOU HAVE TO DROP OUT OF BAND

And Robin also cannot pass as Steve at first, but she gets to see how that matters exactly 0% because the Harrington's don't even notice. They also aren't around near as much as Steve makes them out to be. But she does get to enjoy the freedom of a legal drivers license and no job currently. HOWEVER she has walked Steve's pretty face into several doors/poles/walls because cute girls keep looking at her with hunger in their eyes and she doesn't know how to handle this.

(It makes more girls interested in a suddenly shy, stumbling, nervous Steve because those girls think they're the reason Confident Sex God Steve turns into a mess but really it's just Robin not knowing how to exist in a world where woman want her and fish fear her (sorry bad joke))

Anyway, queue shenanigannary for a bit. Steve encourages Robin to go on dates because why not get some practice in while they wait to swap back again? (he's holding out hope)

Do they have the awkward discussion of 'what are the limits to what I'm allowed to do in your body????? I dunno yet.

Anyway, Robin goes on dates. ((Does she end up going on a date with Vickie? Canonically Vickie's got no problem dating older boys? How to solve this plot line for when(if?) they switch back bodies? IDK dudes, that's Future Jess's issue.))

At some point, the gang finds out. Probably Dustin realizing Steve isn't as Steve-like as usual. He'd sniff out something was wrong with his brother for sure.

But then season 4 starts. Robin taught Steve how to play the trumpet back in August/Sept and it's then they realize that they kind of share their knowledge? Like... Steve picks up how to play the trumpet EASY. At first they think it's just Robin's body using muscle memory but then Robin realizes she knows things only Steve should.

Anyway, Steve is in band with Vickie the night of the Championshipgame, chatting easily while also trying to hint that 'Hey, I think Steve Harrington is checking you out???" while trying to tell Robin with telepathy (that they don't have... yet? Decide if they end up with telepathy later) to try and subtly check out Vickie. But neither girl is subtle so they both just whip around to stare at each other and Steve is facepalming.

NO WAIT. DO I MAKE CHANGES TO THE NARRATIVE BECAUSE IF STEVE IS IN HIGH SCHOOL AGAIN, THERE IS NO WAY HE'D LET DUSTIN AND MIKE SKIP OUT ON THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME. Maybe??? Will decide on this point later. Until then, above points stay.

Anyway, Chrissy still dies (sorry) and Eddie's still on the run, but like this time in the boathouse, Robin invites Eddie to stay at 'his' big empty house 'cause the parents are gone and Robin has no hangups about Eddie like Steve did in canon (he is the first person we hear call Eddie The Freak).

The end point here is that Robin, Steve, and Eddie spend A LOT of time together at Steve's house and then the angst falls in because Steve starts to fall in love with Eddie.

So, he has a breakdown in a bathroom with Robin about it, all sad and crying like "I really fuckin' like him Robs, but I can't- there- we can't-"

"I need you to take a breath and tell me what the issue is," Robin says.

"I like him Robs, but this is your body. I can't take things from you. Like your first kiss. And I certainly can't- I won't put your body through... you know. I can't do that to you."

And it takes Robin a moment to process what he means. Romantic entanglements that Steve might want to have would have to happen with her body. And maybe Robin isn't sure what to say/do because the thought of a guy and his dick anywhere near her body immediately freaks her out but... she's not in her body. She's in Steves, and has been doing things with girls in it. It never occurred to her that Steve might want to get hot and heavy with a guy in her body and maybe she's got something to unpack there???

Anyway, no time to worry about that. Vecna's gonna kill Max so they gotta go. Also, Eddie does NOT know about the body swap.

She does tell Steve to kiss Eddie, though, in the end. When they're not sure they'll live. So, Eddie calls out to Steve. "Make him pay." So, to Eddie, it looks like Steve gives him a nod and it's Robin who marches up, grabs his face, and plants one on him. Robin(Steve) doesn't stick around long enough for Eddie to kiss back (Steve wants him to because he wants a proper kiss from Eddie, but he also doesn't want him to because Eddie thinks he's kissing Robin and if he kisses back it means he likes Robin, not Steve, so Steve doesn't lock lips long enough find out).

Something something they all survive and then Eddie, hopped up on pain meds in the hospital, demands to speak to Robin. So, Steve slinks in, afraid of what's going to happen, and Eddie's like 'Robin. I appreciate that you like me but you are unfortunately a girl and I am not into that.' And Steve is like!!! my time!! It's come!!! I HAVE to get back to my body.

And then at some point they switch back. Maybe El doing some mind fuckery? Idk.

And for fun, here's the beginning of the fic that idea written out:

"Whoa," Steve blinks rapidly as the world tilts and shifts. It's very sudden, and over just as quickly as it started, but it still leaves Steve unanchored for a moment. It was probably brought on by the concussion he's been nursing these last two days, since the whole Starcourt shit. He leans sideways to try and use the wall as an anchor until everything feel right again.

He should, probably, be more concerned about this because this has been like, the fourth time this has happened and when he told Robin about it, she confessed it was happening to her, too. That Owens guy had told them there could be unknown side effects to whatever the fuck they'd been injected with and this might just be part of that. It'll fade, Steve's sure, as the days go on. Never mind that it has been happening more lately. It's going to fade. It has to.

Except, it doesn't. The sensation of be unanchored gets worse, and now it comes accompanied with loss of time. Steve will feel the tilt and shift while standing in the doorway to his room and the next thing he knows he's got a hand on his front door, keys in his hand, and doesn't know where he was trying to go.

Ring Ring

Steve shakes his head, shakes away the feeling of wrongness and goes to answer the phone. "Harrington residence, Steve speaking."

"Steve! Steve, it's getting worse!" Robin's voice sobs at him from the other end of the phone. "I-I was in the kitchen and then I was, like, huddled in the bathroom and I don't remember going there."

"Fuck, me too. I just came to standing at my front door, about to leave but I don't remember getting there, or where I was planning to go," Steve confesses back. It's strange, how easily Robin has become a part of his life. He was expecting her to not want to be withing five miles of him ever again, after what he got her dragged into, but it seems Robin isn't scared away. Perhaps it's just that he's the only other person she knows who went through Russian torture. Even if that is the case, Steve'll take it. He likes Robin a lot.

"Should we... call Dr. Owens?" Robin sounds so small when she asks.

"I don't want to," Steve confesses but doesn't elaborate. Calling Dr. Owens means admitting that something is wrong wrong. Steve doesn't want anything to be that wrong. He wants to get back to his life. He's got to get back to job searching, too, and Dr. Owens might deny him that.

Steve Harrington who doesn't die. No matter what, he'll wake up afterwards. He learned it young when he survived a car crash that killed his mom. And he struggles after her death, not knowing why he survived when she didn't. As he grows up, he can't relax and parties to try and be full of something lighter. But he drinks too much at one party and he doesn't have a good friend to rely on.

As time goes on, Steve dies by Billy and by the Russians. He doesn't really understand but he begins to accept it. But he also becomes more careless. Which is how Eddie finds him.

Eddie had been able to see ghosts since he almost died from his dad. The first ghost he ever sees is his mom and she passes on after getting to hug him goodbye one last time. After that Eddie sees the few elderly people who died at the end of their lives. And the people who died too early. He got stuck as the freak for all the times he's accidentally talked to someone who wasn't there.

He had talked with Benny who was worried about that young girl. Barb who was so mad about being left behind by her friend. But he hadn't seen Will Byers and it made sense when he was found eventually. But he did hear some things from the agents stuck at the middle school who looked torn apart. Eddie learned of the Upside Down earlier but promised Wayne he'd stay out of it.

Until he saw Steve sitting on the edge of the pool, looking at his body floating in the water. There was some blood swirling in the water and it made Eddie sick. But Steve just stared blankly at his own body before sighing and standing. He froze when Eddie locked eyes with him. He glanced at the pool than Eddie. "Hmm," he gave him a small smile and moved past him.

"Wait!" Eddie called afterwards and Steve paused, "aren't you, like, I don't know needing something? Most ghosts-"

"Oh," Steve chuckled, "this won't last much longer." He stated and walked away but before he even reached the door back into the party he blinked away. Eddie let out a scream when Steve's body spasmed and his head flung up out of the water. There was still blood on the side of his face but he was alive. Steve groaned as he pulled himself out of the pool. "See," his came out hoarse and Eddie was just so confused.

Original post date: August 17 2022

Original caption: roof cuddles

Rated: T | CW: panic attacks | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, pre-s3 steddie

Prompt: Get behind me

For @machete-inventory-manager 💕 thank you! (And thank you for your patience!)

🕯️🕯️🕯️

Steve is shit at keeping secrets. He should be used to it by now, considering his stack of NDAs is now undoubtedly longer than any book he’s ever read, but usually his lies fall on the ears of his oblivious parents, on the unknowing school nurse for why he’s back for the third day in a row for a migraine, on his teachers who berate him for falling asleep in class. It’s not—Steve is bad at keeping secrets from those he cares about, and Eddie Munson is very high on that list of people.

Steve still can’t believe it’s real, most of the time: that who he was his first years in this school hadn’t scared Eddie away completely, that he was worth Eddie giving a second chance to, that when Steve had kissed him Eddie hadn’t punched him square in the nose, that Eddie had kissed him back.

It still makes his chest hum, when he thinks about it too hard. Makes his lips twitch when he’s spacing out in class, when he’s eating dinner with his parents or when he’s driving to school: because his mind is on Eddie. He thinks about what Eddie might be doing. If his day has been okay and if anyone gave him any shit, if all of his deals went smoothly or if Mrs. O’Donnell still has it out for him.

He wonders if Eddie ever thinks the same about him.

Steve… likes to think he does, especially at times like this. At times when Eddie has Steve’s head pillowed on his chest, when Eddie’s fingers are in Steve’s hair and their legs are tangled together, when the movie they’d been watching is glowing blue on the screen, the tape over, and Steve can’t find it within himself to get up and turn it off.

Eddie’s fingers are scratching behind his ears, and the pattering of rain on the trailer’s tin roof is lulling Steve into a pleasant sort of doze. Sleep always comes easier with Eddie next to him.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie murmurs, and Steve likes this the most. Sweetheart and honey and baby, names that fall so easily from Eddie’s lips like Steve’s something sweet. Like he’s something worth savoring.

He hums and doesn’t move, Eddie’s fingers still in his hair.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie reminds him, “you spendin’ the night?”

Steve shouldn’t. His parents will ask questions he can’t answer and every night they spend with the Bimmer out front is another night of gossip they hand over to Eddie’s neighbors—

But Eddie is warm. His hairy legs are locked around Steve’s like he doesn’t want to let him go and his lips are so close to the crown of Steve’s head he can feel the breath of his words and Steve thinks maybe enduring a phone call with his parents is worth it. He could borrow Eddie’s boxers. He could wear one of Eddie’s more neutral shirts to school tomorrow and the two of them would be the only ones who knew.

“You gonna let me go if I say no?” Steve props himself up on his elbows, the question falling from his tongue because he can’t help but tease, because Eddie’s face always flushes like he’s in awe of it.

Eddie’s legs flex and lock, his arms wrapping possessively around Steve’s middle even as his cheeks darken. “If I had it my way,” he murmurs, tilting his head close, “I’d never let you go.” And Eddie kisses him. Steve parts his lips as Eddie’s tongue slips inside, warm and wet and coveting, licking behind his teeth—

The lights flicker. Steve can see the flash of the them through his closed eyelids and even as he tells himself it’s nothing the hairs on his arms stand on end, his ears begin to ring as his senses heighten, the only noise still the rain on the roof and the wet sounds of their mouths, until it happens again.

Steve breaks their kiss, dread pooling low in his belly as he hovers over Eddie, his gaze darting around the room as he searches for anything he could use to protect them both.

“Sorry,” Eddie exhales, “shoddy electrical in this thing.”

But Steve can barely hear him as the ringing in his ears grows, his skin beginning to tingle as that familiar surge of adrenaline begins to flood him.

“Sweetheart?”

The lights go out.

Steve scrambles off the couch, nearly taking himself out at the knees over Eddie’s coffee table, and lunges for the lamp on the side table. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something. It would, if Steve was lucky, be enough for Eddie to—

“Steve—?”

“Get behind me,” Steve interrupts, his palms slick as he wrenches the cord from the outlet, holding the heavy wooden base of the lamp high above his head.

“Stevie, baby, maybe the power doesn’t go out on your side of the tracks but over here it’s—”

“Please.” Steve’s voice cracks over the vowels, desperation flooding him: he can’t lose Eddie. He can’t. Just the thought of it—the thought of Eddie anywhere close to what lies beneath their feet makes his palms slicken, makes his heart jackrabbit in his chest and his blood thunder in his ears.

He can’t let it happen.

The couch creaks as Eddie rises, their backs to the wall as Steve holds up his lamp, unseeing, into the dark.

For long minutes that’s all they do: the only sounds are Steve’s uneven breaths and the pattering of rain on the roof, and Steve’s gaze flicks between every point of entry as his eyes adjust to the dark.

But as the rain patters on, as lightning flashes outside and as the adrenaline begins to wane from his blood, as the lamp he’s been holding over his head begins to feel like it weighs a ton, embarrassment begins to fill him instead.

It was just the storm. It was the rain, and the wind, and the trailer’s old electrical system, and Steve had forced Eddie into a corner over nothing.

Steve sets down the lamp, his arms trembling as the adrenaline surge leaves his muscles tired and shaking. He licks his lips, his mouth bone dry, and brings the heels of his palms to his eyes. Heavily, he sits back on the couch, unable to look Eddie in the eyes. “Sorry,” he croaks, “that was—” but he can’t explain. He can’t explain because that would open Eddie to a world Steve wants—needs—to protect him from.

His teeth begin to chatter, and his hands are trembling so badly he curls them up, pressing his fists into the sockets of his eyes just so he doesn’t look like he’s losing it completely.

The trailer floor creaks, and Eddie, slowly, sits beside him. Just the weight of him makes Steve’s nerves ease, his jaw unclenching.

“I don’t like heights,” Eddie murmurs into their quiet, and Steve has no idea why he’s bringing this up but at least he’s talking, at least he’s not throwing Steve out the door for losing his shit. “Jeff has to drive when we go over bridges.” His hand rests on the small of Steve’s back. “I’m gonna go get some candles, yeah? I’ll be right back.” Eddie rubs a soft circle against Steve’s spine before standing, his footsteps rapid before he clatters around a closet just a few feet away.

He’s quick, and within a minute there’s three mostly-burned candles flickering dimly on the coffee table, and Steve no longer feels like his heart’s going to beat out of his chest when he can finally meet Eddie’s gaze. “Sorry,” he says again, lamely, his voice still shaky, “it’s normally not that bad.”

Because it’s not. Because adding Eddie to the mix—the mere potential of it—had sent Steve into a panic.

“It’s okay if it’s that bad,” Eddie states, simply, like that’s all it boils down to, like what just happened isn’t completely and totally fucking insane. Eddie takes his hand, and Steve realizes how cold his own fingers are against the heat of Eddie’s palm. “It can be that bad around me.”

Tears, unbidden and unexpected flood Steve’s lower lids and he has to stop himself from blinking so they don’t spill. He sniffs hard, instead, and squeezes Eddie’s hand.

“Stevie?” Eddie murmurs, his voice gentle and probing, “this is why you have that nail bat under your bed, isn’t it?”

Too fucking smart. Eddie is too fucking smart for his own good and Steve is livid at himself for falling for someone who’s smart enough to connect any of the dots—but Steve is weak. He’s weak, and he nods instead of denying it, because as desperate as he is to keep Eddie away from it all, to be understood by him, even in this small amount, is a relief he can’t resist.

“Wayne always thought there was something wrong with this town,” Eddie mutters, and Steve can’t help his choked breath of a laugh because of course—of course—Wayne would know. “Always said the government was out here covering it all up.” Eddie nods, like without Steve having to validate any of it, he already knows. “He always says they’ve got ways of keeping people quiet.” Eddie mutters. He stares, and Steve realizes that, really, was a question.

He barely moves, but Eddie is watching, and his eyes widen when Steve tilts his head, just slightly, forwards.

And then Eddie’s scooting closer. He’s wrapping Steve up in his arms and the smell of cigarettes and cedar wraps around him, and his face is pressed into Eddie’s warm neck and Eddie’s fingers are back in his hair.

“You’re okay,” Eddie murmurs, and then, after a moment, like he was hesitating, adds, “and I’m okay, too, sweetheart. ’S just us, here.”

Steve clings back, his fingers pressing deep and desperate against Eddie’s back, like his very hold could be what keeps Eddie next to him, safe.

And Steve’s not letting go.

✨✨✨

And then they lived happily ever after and nothing bad happened to them ever again 🥰

Thank you for the prompt! It feels so good to be able to post these again!

Also, I’m so sorry, but it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything on here that I lost my permanent tag list. I think that’s just my sign that I’m not going to do it anymore 😅 apologies to anyone who is unhappy about that 🫶

My biggest hugs and kisses to @hbyrde36 for her betaing 💗✨

steve's been knocking on doors trying to find eddie. he would be annoyed that all he's found are couples and groups in states of undress but this is some random house party, so it's what steve expects.

plus he's too relieved that he hasn't walked in on eddie being a part of any of it.

steve knows it's gross to feel this way. he trusts eddie 100%. it's not right to let past relationship problems cloud his judgement when it comes to what he has with eddie - who hasn't given him any reason to doubt.

but eddie is so new. been together for only 2 months now new.

and tommy was so old. childhood friend/fucked up situationship for 10 long years old. just ended for good a year and a half ago old.

so even though he knows, hopes, prays, that it's ridiculous to compare the two together, steve still checks the bathroom and makes sure the man on his knees in front of some blonde cheerleader isn't his boyfriend.

and then promptly ducks down to avoid a brush the blonde cheerleader throws at him.

'sorry!' steve apologizes. he hurries to slam the door closed and makes his way to the very last room at the end of the hallway.

maybe he left? eddie didn't want to serve here anyway, rich druggie clientele be damned. so even though they came together, maybe eddie had an emergency and-

steve cuts that thought off because well. he found eddie.

'baby!!' his boyfriend exclaims, alone, sitting on the floor in the middle of some random strangers room with a jar of peanut butter. he's got a spoon full of it half way up to his mouth and his eyes are red.

at least 4 brownies deep red.

the wave of relief he feels is actually pretty concerning, but steve will think about that some other time since he's too busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the long haird idiot looks.

'eddie, what are you doing?'

eddie looks guilty and for a split second steve thinks maybe he did walk in on eddie with someone else. (maybe he's waiting on them? maybe they already left?)

then eddie holds up the jar of peanut butter and says in the saddest voice, 'i needed it stevie, i don't remember how long it's been since i've had peanut butter. but i didn't think you'd find me! stay back! don't you come any closer!'

so this whole time while steve's been worried that eddie was off doing what tommy used to do to make him jealous, eddie just snuck off and hid away to eat peanut butter because steves' allergic.

starting to snicker, steve goes to sit across from him. 'i can be around it babe, im not gonna die.'

eddie rushes to close the jar, spoon shoved inside and all. he gives steve the stink eye. 'i know what peanut allergies can do to some people. i refuse to watch you blow up like a tomato.'

steve rolls his eyes and reaches out, acting like he's gonna touch the jar.

eddie yells. jumping to his feet, he scurries out of the closet like an over grown rat, 'steve harrington this is exactly why I was trying to eat this away from you!'

steves laughing now, giggling like a hyena. he can't believe he ever doubted this man.

later that night - after eddie has showered and brushed his teeth at least three times - when they're tucked away in eddies room under the covers, steve talks to him about his freak out. eddie apologizes for leaving him alone at a strangers party like that. he holds him close, gives steve a ton of kisses and promises to create a DND character that represents tommy.

'i'll turn him into a toad and kill him off in the most gruesome way imaginable. he'll be murdered to death, the kids will be traumatized. it'll be great. just you wait and see, my love.'

After checks calendar 84 years, I am once again offering Smart Steve content lmao

Listen the writer's block has been hitting recently if you couldn't tell, but I'm still happy with how this came out.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :P

----

So.

Steve Harrington is smart.

Like, smart smart.

Like, the kind of smart where he not only understands shit, he can explain complicated shit to Eddie without sending his brain into a coma.

It's been two weeks, and Eddie is still trying to come to terms with this discovery. He's four tutoring sessions in and a little spark of surprise still rocks him whenever Steve can easily explain a new topic using the stuff Eddie likes.

He explained velocity using D&D spells. He explained electrical circuits using the concept of plugging a guitar into an amp. After asking a few questions about Lord of the Rings, Steve Harrington managed to explain the in-depth concepts of magnetism using the fucking One Ring.

How the fuck is Eddie supposed to be normal about any of that? Ignoring the sheer fact that Steve is capable of it, how is Eddie supposed to feel about the...the willingness to learn what Eddie understands best and meet him on that level?

If the answer is awed and practically starstruck, he's ahead of the game.

"Hey, you doing okay? Kinda spacing out over there, man."

Eddie blinks, the textbook in front of him coming back into focus. Steve had been explaining the concept of momentum, but his words just floated in one ear and out the other because Eddie was once again consumed by the absurdity of the situation.

It's not like he can say that, though. So, instead, he settles for a grimace and pushes the textbook away. "I think I'm all fried out for physics," he says, looking up at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, blinking a few times before nodding. "Yeah, sure, uh, sorry."

"Wait, what are you sorry about?"

Steve looks away, an awkward frown tugging at his lips. "I...probably wasn't explaining it too well, huh?"

"Woah, woah, no way," Eddie says, putting a stop to that train of thought before it can leave the station. He turns in his chair to face Steve directly, ignoring how the metal rod that attaches it to the desk digs painfully against his shin. "Listen, Stevie, I've never understood physics more than when you explain it. Like, I don't know, man, whatever you're doing works."

Steve must have been more worried than he let on, because Eddie can literally see the tension draining from his shoulders. "Great," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances away. "Seriously, that's great. I'm glad nothing's been confusing."

"Yeah, so, nothing you did," Eddie says, feeling like he needs to reiterate that point to drive it home. "Honestly, you could probably even make me understand geometry. Not like our teacher is doing shit to help."

"Do you...not understand geometry?" Steve asks, looking a little unsure like he can't tell if that's a joke or Eddie's attempt at suggesting another class he needs help in. This one is a class they share, which means Steve will have seen Eddie's floundering attempts at answering questions, and he feels a whole new burn of embarrassment course through him.

"Do you?" Eddie asks in return.

"Yeah. It's just, like, angles and shit, man."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing and trying to figure out if Steve is somehow, subtly, making fun of him. But of course he isn't. If Eddie has learned nothing else, it's that Steve doesn't ever think Eddie is actually stupid or deserving of ridicule. He just thinks Eddie hasn't been taught properly, which is more on the teacher than him.

After a moment, Eddie twists around to dig in his bag. He pulls out his geometry homework, slaps it on the desk, and gestures at the triangles and squares and other shapes with unidentified angles and side lengths. "I have literally no clue what the fuck is going on here," he says.

Steve moves closer, looking over the sheet with a slight frown. Eddie knows this face by now. It's the one Steve makes when he's searching for the relevant knowledge in his own brain, pulling it to the front so he can easily identify the gaps in Eddie's understanding. "So, how would you start?" Steve finally asks, offering his pencil.

Eddie takes it, twirls it between his fingers a few times, and looks over the questions. He eventually chooses one asking him to find the length of a side. "I know this one. It's the equation with the squares and shit," he says, carefully writing it out and plugging in numbers under the triangle.

"Right. Pythagorean theorem. A squared plus B squared equals C squared."

"Yeah. That," Eddie says, working through the math on a separate sheet of paper instead of in his head. He can do easy addition and subtraction, but one of the first things Steve did was get him used to using scratch paper. His brain doesn't feel quite as crowded by numbers anymore; now it's just crowded by the endless rotation of bites of knowledge and equations that have nothing to do with the work at hand. It's like his brain can recognize that it needs to remember something, but can't identify what exactly, so it just offers up everything.

When he's done, Eddie shows Steve his work, the answer circled at the bottom of the scratch paper. "Perfect," Steve says, flashing a smile that makes Eddie's heart lurch dangerously. "Okay, so that's solid. What about this one."

He points at a right triangle with only one angle listed and the other marked as unknown. "No fucking clue," Eddie says.

"This one is asking for the unknown angle. It'll just be some subtraction."

"It's only giving me one angle, Stevie," Eddie points out, gesturing to the angle marked as 53. "What the fuck do I do with that?"

"Well, the main thing is that a triangles angles will always add to 180. Also, this is a right triangle," Steve explains, taking the pencil from Eddie to circle the L-shaped corner of the triangle. "This angle will always be 90 degrees on right triangles. Should I keep going?"

"No," Eddie says slowly, drawing the word out as he takes the pencil back. "I'm starting to get it. Lemme try."

Steve waits patiently as Eddie hesitates before adding the angles together and subtracting that from 180. When he gets to a solution of 37, he gestures for Steve to check.

"That's right," Steve says, nodding as he points to another triangle on the sheet. "For this one, I'll teach you about the SOH CAH TOA trick."

Eddie nods, paying as much attention as he can, but he can't help feeling a little distracted by Steve's happy smile and relaxed posture. He's never seen Steve like this during class, and he's struck by the sudden notion that nobody else will see Steve like this, either.

------

When Steve gets home, he drops his bag in the hallway, grabs a soda from the kitchen, and collapses onto the couch.

A few National Geographic and Scientific American magazines are still spread out across the coffee table. A brief glance reminds Steve that none of the stories were particularly interesting in these editions.

He pops the tab on his soda, takes a sip, and glances at the phone on the end table next to him.

Steve had noticed something today. Eddie's shirt. Most of the band shirts Eddie wears are popular enough that Steve sort of knows them. Metallica, KISS, and AC/DC were recognizable since he's passed their albums on display in record stores.

Today's band, though. He didn't recognize that one. What the fuck was Manowar?

After a few seconds of thought, Steve reaches out and grabs the phone. He's just doing research. Wanting to understand the music Eddie likes is reasonable. That's how Eddie learns. There's no other reason for Steve dialing the number of an old classmate.

The phone rings a few times before picking up. "Amare residence," a girl says, sounding distracted.

"Hey, Dee. It's Steve."

"Hmm, Steve. Steve. ...Steeeeve. Oh, is this Steve Harrington, deserter of friends for the woes of public education?"

Despite everything, Steve can't help an amused smile. "Yeah, that Steve," he says. He doesn't apologize, since he knows that's not what she wants. If she was actually angry, she would've hung up.

"Well, how kind of you to grace me with your voice," Dee says, sounding distant like she's set the phone down. "I suppose I can give you until I finish braiding my hair."

"Great. You know about metal, right?"

"Like iron? Duh, Steve, I'm not thirteen."

"No, like, heavy metal."

"Iron is pretty heavy."

"Music, Dee. Heavy metal music."

"Oh! Aren't you a Tears for Fears kind of boy? What are you doing asking about heavy metal?"

Steve starts to answer but stops himself. He doesn't know why. Dee tutors kids all the time. Everyone in their private school group did. That's how they made money. She'd understand that he's trying to learn more about Eddie's interests for tutoring purposes.

So why can't he just say that?

"This long pause says you're thinking about lying to me," Dee says. "Don't bother, Steve."

"Well, I do want to know for the guy I'm tutoring. But not just because I'm tutoring him."

"Awww, are you trying to make a friend?" Dee teases.

Steve grimaces, wondering why his stomach twists slightly at the question. "Yeah, kind of. I want to know more about the stuff he likes. And he likes heavy metal. So, ya know, I thought of you."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Dee says. "And I love talking music, so I guess we can keep talking even after I'm done braiding."

A relieved smile tugs at Steve's lips. "Thanks, Dee, I appreciate it. So, first question, what's Manowar?"

-------

Tag List!

@estrellami-1, @ravenfrog,

Actually, I love the thought of Steve seeing that Hopper is letting some things slide with him because he’s in the party and taking it to mean that he now has crime immunity. And then goes wild with it.

It’s a sight to see because Eddie kinda thinks he’s hallucinating when he skips out on some drug awareness rally just to walk out to the parking lot and see Steve Harrington breaking into the Chief of Police’s car.

Eddie, standing there like an idiot: Um…what are you doing?

Steve, pulling Hopper’s spare key out of the sunvisor: Wanna get a milkshake?

Hide Your Heart pt. 5

Part Five of my Steve has bad parents au, this is going to be the second to last chapter sadly

CW: physical abuse, use of the f-slur once and use of the word queer as a slur

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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“Oh don’t let me interrupt you and whatever girlfriend is on the other line.” His father sneered, “must be pretty special to throw around words like that.”

He hated when his father was drunk, all formality was swept from his demeanor, leaving nothing but casual cruelty. All bared teeth and dangerously swaying steps, unstable. Steve didn’t know which of his carefully crafted responses would set him off. 

Steve knew what happened next couldn’t be more than four or five seconds but time slowed down around him. He heard Eddie’s worried, very distinctly male, ‘Stevie?’ from the phone distantly, like it was coming from another room—another world. Both his and his father’s eyes dropped to the hanging phone. Steve had half a second to think up frantic excuses before his stool was tipping over, dragging him with it to the ground with a resounding crack. His father reached for the phone only to slam it against the wall with enough force to crack the plastic.

“Who was that?” He practically screamed, “Didn’t sound like no girl to me!”

Maybe you’d know if you didn’t smash the phone, Steve wanted to retort but he was being dragged up and into the cold metal of the fridge by his shirt before he could open his mouth.

“I asked you a question, boy!” A jab to his jaw, it didn’t hold much power but it would leave a bruise.

“No one!” One of the only people who cares about me, one of the only people who can stand to be around me. “He was—he wasn’t—”

His father flicked a hand across his face, knocking his head back into the fridge. The bridge of his nose burned and he knew his fathers seldom worn wedding ring had split the skin. 

“You have no business speaking that way to a boy! That is not how a Harrington bahaves!” His father spat.

“I’m sorry—! I didn’t—” Steve never got to finish his sentence, a fist slamming into his face, catching his nose and lip, stopping him before he could get another word out. He choked on the gush of blood that ran down his upper lip and filled his mouth.

His mother chose that moment to rush into the kitchen, right as his head started spinning, “RICHARD!” She gasped, “What—?!”

Steve’s father released his shirt with a shove, throwing him into the cabinet where he stumbled to the floor, rubbing his back against the bruise forming from the handle.

His mother hadn’t stopped yelling at his father, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, “What on earth has gotten into you?”

Don’t act like you don’t know, Steve so desperately wanted to say, don’t act like we didn’t both know this was coming. He could do nothing more than fight the stinging in his eyes, knowing if he cried it would only enrage his father further. He could only tip his head back and try to breathe through his bloody nose and mouth. 

“I didn’t raise no faggot!” His father boomed, “What would your mother think?” He jeered.

I know, Steve thought, I know for all she used to love me that this is too much. And he did know, this was the one thing that would sever whatever connection they had left.

“Why would you ever say something like that, Richard?” His mother turned to him, though, with eyes almost pleading as they locked on his, “Steven, honey, whatever this is I’m sure it’s a big misunderstanding.”

Apparently that was what did it for Steve, hearing his mother so quick to dismiss him, so quick to brush past all the abuse, now physical. 

He pushed himself up, shaking his head, “You don’t know that.” He mumbled, “You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

Steve hadn’t meant to yell, hadn’t meant to say anything at all really but once the words were out there was nothing he could do to shut up. He’d opened a vein and everything that had kept him going was spilling out with the blood on his face.

 “You don’t know who my friends are, you don’t know that I can’t sleep alone anymore or that I can’t stand the empty silence in this goddamn house because you weren’t there! You couldn’t be bothered to—I was dying in an overrun hospital, beside my unconscious best friends and you couldn’t be bothered to show up! You never even called! You’re never here!”

“I will not be talked to like this, not by the likes of you. Get out of my house!”

The likes of you. The freaks and the disgusting disappointments.

Steve knew he was crying before he felt the angry tears burn hot streaks down his cheeks. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that his father’s fist clenched again, it didn’t matter that his mother was reaching for him because he was already backing out of the kitchen.

“You don’t care!” Steve croaked, wiping his nose and wincing as his hand came back slick with a fresh wave of blood, “Why don’t you care?!” He heard his voice break, felt the pressure building behind his eyes and nose. 

“Steven,” his mother reached for him again but he yanked his arm away.

“No, no, no, don't ’Steven’ me. I-do you know how shitty you are? I’ve spent the last 13 years of my life alone, wondering what I did. What I could’ve done to disappoint you when all I do is try. Wondering why you couldn’t find it in you to love your only son!” His vision was blurry with tears, breathing turned to hiccups, “I’ve done everything you wanted. I played sports I didn’t like and dated girls I didn’t know to keep up your fucking image and you still left me every single time you went on another ‘work trip’ so don’t you dare pretend to care about me now, now that I’m a fucking queer and you need to fix me!” 

He stomped out of the kitchen, grabbing and yanking on the first sweatshirt he saw hanging off of the banister at the bottom of the stairs, it was Eddie’s. Of course it was, everything in the house had shaped and molded around him because he’d come and taken up space and filled the hollow silence in Steve’s life and now his parents were back and undoing it all.

He didn’t wait for a response before he slammed the door, knowing he wouldn’t get one. He did wait, though, outside with the back of his head pressed to the door, hoping maybe his mother would go after him. Hoping she would pull him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and head, make him tea in the kitchen before sending him to bed and telling him they would talk in the morning. Tell him she was sorry and ask what he wanted to have for dinner when they invited Eddie over to meet him. She didn’t. The world stayed a bittersweet quiet.

Steve checked his pockets, cursing when he turned up with no keys. He wanted—he needed to leave as soon as possible, as fast as possible.

Steve didn’t know where he was going when he ran. He just needed to get away, sprang and bolted, all the pent up anxiety left over from the Upside Down fueling his legs. He didn’t know he was headed towards Eddie’s house until he trudged shoulder first into the Forest Hills sign, head down and arms crossed so tight around his middle he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t cut off his circulation. What if Eddie didn’t want him there? What if he was busy or just done being hidden, maybe he decided Steve wasn’t worth the trouble anymore, what if he was right— 

He was knocking on the Munson’s door, the sound echoing through his ears. It was too late to turn back now, fuck he should’ve called again. When would he have the time, between crying to getting kicked out and slamming the door?

Wayne opened the door, tired eyes taking in what Steve could only assume to be his disheveled appearance. His hair was flat and sticking to his forehead. Blood crusted under his nose, dripping down his split lip and staining his favorite sweatshirt. He would have to get it dry cleaned before he gave the wrinkled hoodie back to Eddie. He hadn’t even tied his shoes for Christ’s sake, feet shoved in hastily and tangling with the laces.

Before he can even open his mouth Wayne has a hand on his shoulder, guiding him through the door, “Let’s get you cleaned up, kid.” He sighs.

 Kid, it’s just a word but he’s tearing up again, hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the noise. Wayne calls him kid and it isn’t condescending, it isn’t spoken from a place of superiority or annoyance. Wayne calls him son and he doesn’t hear it in his fathers voice, he doesn’t hear the dripping disappointment that clings to all of his fathers words. 

He’s being walked to the kitchen and sat on a barstool. His vision’s blurred and his nose is swelling, causing the pressure behind his eyes to increase, but he could still make out the man digging around in a drawer for a wash cloth. He held it under the sink and wrapped a couple ice cubes together.

“Hold this here,” Wayne told him, pressing the makeshift ice pack into his hand and holding it to his face, “Ed’s been worried sick, practically had to tie him to his seat.” With that Wayne walked off, towards the back of the trailer, “Eddie! Get out here, would ya?” He knocked on Eddie’s bedroom door.

“Was that the door?” Eddie asked, looking around Wayne as he swung the door open.

Steve saw the moment Eddie noticed him sitting at the counter, his brows furrowed in confusion before twisting to concern.

“Steve, oh my god, are you okay?” He breathed, scrambling to the kitchen, “What happened, I tried calling again but it wouldn’t connect.”

“Yeah my father kind of smashed the phone.” Steve managed to mumble around his numbing face.

“What the fuck?” Eddie reached for his face, brushing his hair away from the damage with one hand and holding his jaw with the other, carefully avoiding his nose, “He do this too?” Eddie asked, swiping his thumb under Steve’s uninjured eye.

Steve looked away but that was all Eddie needed, “What the fuck?” He exclaimed again, at the same time Wayne scoffed out a “what kind of man—”

“It’s fine—” He started, on impulse maybe, but he didn’t even get the words out before Eddie was shaking his head.

“Don’t do that, don’t say it’s fine. You know it’s not fine. You didn’t deserve this or whatever else you’re telling yourself.”

When Steve stayed quiet Eddie spoke again, “Tell me you don’t think you deserved this?”

Uncomfortable silence blanketed the once comforting room, at least for Steve. The others must have felt it too because Wayne coughed and muttered something about finding the first aid kit before exiting the room.

“Steve—”

“Why else would he do it?” His jaw hit the hands still tilting his face up with every whispered word.

Who says I don’t? What if he’s right and I’m just a screw up? This might’ve been the final straw but Steve would never stop blaming himself for the emotions of his father. He wouldn’t stop blaming himself for the case that Tommy broke in eighth grade and the weeks he was grounded until he could pay for it. It was his fault, really, if he hadn’t been so clingy he wouldn’t have called Eddie. If he hadn’t been so selfish he never would’ve woken him up in the middle of the night and his dad wouldn’t have heard them. It was his fault for not hanging up in time and it was his fault making up some lie. He done it before, so why was this time any different? 

Uncomfortable silence blanketed the once comforting room, at least for Steve. The others must have felt it too because Wayne coughed and muttered something about finding the first aid kit before exiting the room.

“Steve—”

“Why else would he do it?” His jaw hit the hands still tilting his face up with every whispered word.

Steve may have been sheltered financially but he knew this kind of thing happened to people all the time. He knew that they didn’t deserve it and the people that did it to them had no excuse other than being horrible people but that wasn’t—this wasn’t like that. He got to live in a big house all alone for free, he got a monthly check every time his parents took a trip, they weren’t—

“Because he’s an asshole. I wish he wasn’t, baby, I wish this hadn’t happened but he’s an asshole. You didn’t deserve this.” Eddie told him again, waiting for him to repeat it.

“I didn’t deserve this.” He mumbled, like it could be true if he just said it.

“Neosporin might be expired but it’s better than nothing.” Wayne called, walking back into the room with an open fist aid kit in his hands as he rifled through it.

Steve was about to reach for the kit, already used to patching himself up after fights, when Eddie grabbed it before him.

“What are you doing?” His voice was still slightly nasally, a side effect of his clogged nose, so it came out whinier than he intended.

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him, waving the maybe expired neosporin and a q-tip as if that explained it.

“You don’t have to do that. I can do it. I’m all gross.”

“You just never let anyone take care of you, do you?” Eddie was going for a joking tone even though they both knew the truth behind the statement, “I don’t care if you’re gross.”

Up until a year ago nobody had wanted to take care of him. Nobody had offered and he was already enough of a bother, he didn’t want to cross the line. He was supposed to be the one that took care of people, that’s what he did. 

“This might sting.” Eddie told him, bringing the q-tip to his lip where it had split open, “Sorry, sorry!” He winced when Steve sucked in a sharp breath.

When everything was cleaned up he could mostly see out of his right eye, the swelling on his nose had gone down slightly and his lip stopped dripping blood. He was exhausted, he realized then after the adrenaline wore off. Sleepless nights and constant anxiety around his parents left him struggling to hold his head up. So he didn’t, he let his shoulders drop and his head fall on Eddie’s shoulder. It was a little uncomfortable, leaning his neck down to reach from where he sat on the bar stool, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“How did this happen, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, hesitant.

“I don’t…I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” The words came out muffled, his face buried in the soft fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt.

 Arms circled around his shoulders and a hand slid through his hair. His own arms wound around Eddie’s middle, rising slightly when Eddie sighed.

“I won't push but you should talk to someone. It’s not a good idea to just bottle this kind of thing up.”

“I know. I don’t want to think about it, not deal with it for a while. I’m just really tired.”

“Do you want to lay down?” Eddie asked stepping back to see his face

He just nodded, already sliding off the stool when he caught Eddie’s expression, “What?”

“We may have to reapply the neosporin. It got a little…” He made a smudging gesture against his own face and Steve groaned, already wiping his face with the washcloth.

After fixing his face again he was being guided to the couch, tucked under an arm. Someone threw a blanket across them before settling down on the other side. The tv was playing some rerun of a sitcom Steve thinks Dustin likes. Maybe it was the background noise or the hand running up and down his back comfortingly under his sweatshirt, maybe it was the familiar smell of the trailer—woody, homey—or fact that he was curled up, squished between two people who actually cared about him, but he found himself drifting off. He felt his head drop onto Eddie’s shoulder as the arms around him shifted to hold him closer. 

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I love continuing the age old tradition of naming his dad Richard. Shout out to my Richard’s

Fun fact: I struggled to write this chapter so much, the writers block hit hard man

Tag list of two: @wrenisfangirling @disrespectedgoatman