You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:
Part OneđŚPart TwođŚPart ThreeđŚPart FourđŚPart Five
Prompt from @devious-kitten
Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases
((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))
Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.
A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.
The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.
Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.
Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because
It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.
"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."
Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.
At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.
His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.
A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:
Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981
He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.
(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)
Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.
Until today.
Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.
Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.
Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.
"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.
Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."
"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."
"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.
"Have you ever played?"
"Well... no, but-"
"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."
Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."
"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"
"What?"
"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"
Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.
Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-
"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.
"I knew that!"
Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."
Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-
"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."
Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.
"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.
"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."
"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.
If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.
Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.
Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.
Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.
They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.
Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.
So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.
Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.
"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.
"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.
It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.
He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.
Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.
"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."
Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."
"Thanks."
He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.
Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.
"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"
Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.
Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."
"No."
Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"
"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.
Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"
It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"
"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.
"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"
"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"
"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"
He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"
"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."
"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"
"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."
He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"
"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.
Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.
cw: substance abuse, addiction, stobin drugging-related PTSD I'm home sick and found this fully written in my drafts? from march?? apparently?
Steve and Robin, who make jokes about that time we did LSD like it's a funny anecdote to the point where no one knows the actual context of the situation.
(Dustin and Erica would know, if Steve and Robin weren't still self aware enough to decidedly not make jokes about it where those two can hear)
(But still.)
Steve and Robin, who only trust a drink if it comes from the other, who trade off sober duties even if someone else is already designated driver because it's not the same as making sure one of them always has their wits about them.
Steve and Robin who, in the very immediate aftermath of Starcourt, develop two drastically different relationships with substances-- Robin who is detrimentally afraid of the glass of wine her parents sometimes offer her on special occasions versus Steve who can and will try everything available to him just to prove again and again that it was never going to kill him even if he felt like he was dying at the time.
They self destruct in equal but opposite ways for the rest of that first summer before the looking out for each other starts, before the coping via humor starts, before the decision to just call it LSD Steve because if I have to try and process that it was something that I can't read and learn about on top of everything else--
It's not like it ever leaves them though, this way that this specific trauma has fucked them up.
(It's not like Dustin and Erica don't notice, no matter how hard their friends try to hide it.)
It's not like there's anything they can do about it when Steve relapses and goes on a bender that has him losing a whole day of time and waking up to Robin checking his heart rate or when Robin thinks she's in a good enough headspace to do shots with their friends and ends up on the floor of another dirty bathroom with Steve holding her hair back, less from the booze and more from all the hyperventilating, the tears that won't stop until long after she's sober.
(It's not like people don't notice when Robin's jokes about their little LSD trip get pointed on nights Steve's had a bit too much, or how Steve cuts her off from making those jokes at all on nights her hands can't steady around a plastic cup; it's not like they could hide anything from people like this, who hunt monsters and solve mysteries and swallow horrors like the smoothest of whiskeys.)
(It's not like Dustin hasn't gone to Eddie when he gets worried, even if he never spills the whole story. It's not like Erica hasn't asked Nancy unsubtle questions about how to help people with dependency issues. It's not like Eddie and Nancy haven't spoken their own concerns into the quiet dark of night over crackling phone lines where no one else can hear.)
There are nights like this and they happen like clockwork, nights in the little house in Indy for which only two of them are technically on the lease but four and then six and sometimes a whole gaggle of high schoolers still pass through like transients every weekend.
There are nights like this, when the youngest of their ranks aren't around and the booze flows freely and they're out on the porch watching the sun set late with the lift and pull of summertime, when a conversation goes sour with a comment that betrays something that has yet to be spoken aloud.
Steve and Robin.
Steve and Robin who have clearly been through something the rest of them aren't privy to; Steve and Robin who mention it offhandedly without any proper details; Steve and Robin who are hurting right there in front of them and how are they supposed to help how are any of them supposed to--
"Okay, that's it--"
"Nance..."
It's Eddie's warning tone but it's also Jonathan giving her that look from where he's perched on the porch rail and it's also the sudden tension in Robin's brow and confusion in Argyle's and something painfully close to resignation in Steve's.
But this is Nancy Wheeler. It's a miracle she's let them go on like this for as long as she already has.
"No, I'm over the secrets," she shakes her head once, definitive, and levels her gaze on those twin hearts curled together on the porch swing. "You two are going to tell us what happened to you-- who hurt you-- and we're going to fucking fix it."
Steve and Robin, who lean impossibly closer into each other's space.
Steve and Robin, looking ready to bolt.
Steve and Robin, who don't look hopeful for any sort of fixing.
But it's not like it was going to stay unspoken forever.
pt 3 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 2.5k // pt 1, pt 2 âĄ
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july 1985
Eddieâs not obsessed with Steve Harrington. Heâs not. Thereâs just not much to think about between guiding souls to the boat. Not much in the way of entertainment in the Underworld. And Steveâs appearancesâtwice in as many yearsâwere the most interesting things to happen to Eddie since his own death. And his returns to the living world are worth space in Eddieâs mind. At least thatâs what he tells himself, to justify how much time he spends thinking about the guy.
Still not entirely convinced of the answer he was given by his superiors about souls that sometimes return to the living world, Eddie finds himself constantly thinking about the possibilities. So Eddie seeks out the last soul that held his position. The previous ferryman of his boat is more than happy to answer his questions. Turns out Eddie would eventually retireâafter a 500 year tenureâso thatâs something to look forward to. The older man tells Eddie that yes, some souls died and then returned to the living world, but what Steve was experiencing was something different. A curse. To die and never stay dead, it took its toll on the spirit. Chips away at it. Weakens the soul. Eddie thinks it sounds a bit dramatic, but still holds some apprehension as he wonders when Steve might return. Steveâs voice echoing in his mind long after heâs disappeared: Iâll see you next time.
This time itâs only eight months.
The spot that Eddie fixates on constantly between carting souls onward could be lit on fire by the intensity of his gaze. He stares and stares, part of him believing that if he stares long enough, he can force Steve to return through sheer force of will. The other part of him is ashamed for wanting that at all. What kind of guy wanted another guyâa good guy, a friend, evenâto die again? How selfish was that? Itâs just when Eddie is running down another thought spiral like this when Steve Harrington appears again.
Groaning, holding his head, Steve sits up slowly. Groggily. Eddie takes in just what heâs looking at. Steve looks the same, but different. The same in that his hair is still somehow perfect, his eyes are still hazel, and his face is once again bashed to hell and back. (Eddie wonders if he even remembers what Steve looks like without bruises on his face.) Different in that his hair is a bit longer, he looks so confused about where he is, and the outfitâŚ
âHarrington?â Eddie ventures cautiously. âYou alright, man?â
âRobin?â Steve asks, still dazed as he blinks repeatedly.
Who? âUh, no, dude. Eddie, remember?â
Steveâs eyes focus on Eddie, who gives him a little two-finger wave, hoping that his face doesnât give away just how concerned he is right now. The previous two times, Steve was never confused about where he was. Knew exactly what was going on. This time thoughâŚ
âOh, noâŚâ Steve drops his head into his hands as he groans his⌠disappointment? Eddie tries hard not to take that personally. Watching as Steve continues to mumble curses and grievances under his breath, Eddie waits awkwardly on his boat.
ââŚSteve?â He finally offers. âYou good?â
âUgh, yeah, I meanâŚâ Steve grumbles. âI know Iâll be fine. Just Robin, and the kids⌠I donât know if theyâre safe.â Eddieâs unbeating heart aches at how earnest Steve is about ensuring his friendsâ safety. âAnd now Iâm not there to make sure.â
Eddie nods sympathetically. âBut⌠youâll go back, right?â Steve glances up. Itâs the first time Eddieâs verbally conceded to Steveâs ability to return to the living world. âI mean, you have every other time.â
âYeah.â Steve nods distantly. âYeah, I assume so.â
The guy looks so disappointed, so⌠distressed by his being here. Itâs so unlike him. Steve has always been very casual about his deaths. There must be some real stakes at hand this time. More than monsters, which is crazy to think about.
âYou, uhâŚâ Eddie falters when Steve looks up at him, big hazel eyes shining. âYou wanna tell me what happened?â
A little smile pulls at the corner of Steveâs mouth, and Eddie settles himself over the edge of the boat, crossing his arms. Steve slowly pulls himself closer, sitting right on the edge of the river, as close as he can get, and tells Eddie the whole story. Everything from Dustin Hendersonâa middle schooler sounding oddly like he was Steveâs best friendâarriving at his workplace with a weird recording, to his coworker Robin Buckley translating it, to roping in Erica Sinclairâand god, Steve regretted that so muchâto the elevator, to them finally getting caught.
Nodding along and only asking a few questions to clarify the story or who Steve was talking about, Eddie found himself wondering what the hell Steve Harringtonâs life actually was. This didnât even have anything to do with the monsters Steve had mentioned in his previous visits. A whole secret base of foreign soldiers hidden under a mall? Itâs unbelievable. Were it not for how seriously Steve was telling the story, the fear in his eyes, the concern for his friends, Eddie would say he was making it up.
ââŚand they kept asking, y'know? Who do you work for? And they just wouldnât believe me.â Steve sniffs, resting his chin on his bare knees, arms wrapped around his legs. âLast thing I remember is getting punched in the face.â He glances up at Eddie with a sad half-smile. âAgain.â
âHow does this keep happening to you, man?â Eddie asks, concern bleeding through his words.
âI blame Dustin.â Steve tilts his head to the side, joke falling flat. âOr maybe Iâm just. Really, really unlucky.â
Eddie takes in Steveâs injuries. The horrifically bruised and swollen eye. The split lip. The dried blood under his nose. It wasnât as bad as last time, but Eddie didnât know how many injuries were hidden under that blue shirt. The previous ferrymanâs words echo in his mind. A curse.
âNah.â Eddie says. âI blame Dustin, too.â The kid sounded nice enough, maybe too smart for his own good, but Eddie hadnât met him, so he didnât feel too guilty about it. Steve gave him a look that said he knew exactly what Eddie was doing. âIâm sure theyâre gonna be fine, Steve.â
âHope so. Just donât want them to go after Robin if Iâm dead up there.â
Ah yes, Robin. Steve had spoken so highly of her. How smart she was. Brave, for joining them. Funny, though Steve didnât want to admit it since most of her jokes were targeted at him. She sounded cool, but something about how he spoke about her made Eddie weirdly sad. Part of him wonders if, in another world, the three of them would have been friends.
âYou think they will?â
âHopefully Iâll get back before they do,â Steve says with a sigh. âTime works different here, anyway.â
Eddie frowns. âIt does?â
âYeah, itâs never as long up there. Much shorter.â Steve shrugs. âProbably a good thing.â
Brows pulled together, Eddie thinks back to the previous times Steve had visited. He was only around for thirty minutes tops. Less the first time, probably. What would that have translated to in the real world? Half that time? A few minutes?Â
Silence settles over them, Steve staring into the middle distance with a look of worry etched into his face between the lacerations and bruises. Eddie fixates on the cut over his lip, swollen and red. When Steve notices him staring, Eddie clears his throat and quickly looks down, then back up.
âSo, whatâs up with the outfit, man?â The subject change is clunky at best, but Eddieâs curiosity was getting the better of him. And it was better than the staring.
Steve finally laughs. His good eye crinkles with it, the smile wide on his face. âI told you man, itâs an ice cream shop!â
âBut why are you a sailor?â Eddie matches his grin.
âItâs called Scoops Ahoy, the whole thing is like, nautical themed.â
Eddie raises a brow. âNautical?â
âNautical,â Steve confirms with a nod. Thereâs a beat of silence before both of them dissolve into giggles. âYou should see the stupid hat they make us wear.â
âWish I could.â Eddie sighs, his laughter tapering off. His brain moves faster than he can stop it, and suddenly itâs presenting him with a scenario. Eddie waltzing into the ice cream parlor, with its weird little nautical theme, leaning over the counter and getting into Steveâs face as he asks for a free sample. Steve might blush, and say that usually theyâd charge for that, but for Eddie itâs free. He might adjust the hat, which Eddie pictures as a little white thing, classic sailor costume, with a blue stripe. Eddie might say that he can think of a way to pay Steve for it, taking hold of that little red tie and pulling Steve closer over the counter.
âYou picturing it?â Steve asks, head tilted and a bemused look on his face.
Eddie jolts out of his fantasy, feeling hot in his cheeks. âMhm, yep, Iâm picturing. Looks pretty stupid.â
Steve snorts in response. âIt is.â He sighs. âBut, yâknow. Sânot all bad. I met Robin there.â
Robin again. Eddie identifies a feeling rising up in his chest and forces it back down, pointedly not giving it any attention. âYeah, she, uh. She sounds⌠pretty cool.â
âShe is.â Steve smiles, looking down at the grass.
âYou⌠like her?â Eddie tries. Heâs torn between his desire to know more and his desire to never talk about her ever again.
âHm?â Steveâs head snaps up. âOh, uh, I mean. Sheâs⌠in⌠band.â He trails off, looking unsure.
âSheâs in band?â Eddie clarifies with a raised brow. âAh, so, not your type?â Hopefully. Eddie shoves that thought down and compartmentalises it into a neat little box alongside his weird feeling to deal with later.
Steve sighs. âI donât know, man. Sheâs cool, and funny, and smart. Maybe too smart for me. I guess Iâm trying to, yâknow, let go of all thatâstupid high school shit.â He waves his hand as he says it.
Eddieâs surprised by this response. He thought Steve would say he was into cheerleaders or something like that. âThatâs⌠cool, man.â He pauses and takes in a low breath before continuing. âYou should ask her out.â He says it before he can convince himself itâs a bad idea.
âYou think?â Steve looks up at him and genuinely seems unsure. Seems to want Eddieâs honest opinion.
âYeah. I donât think sheâd go through all this and follow you into danger if she didnât like you as well.â Eddie swallows the thing inside him thatâs clawing up his throat and begging him to stop talking. âTell her how you feel.â
âThanks, man,â Steve says, like heâs thanking Eddie for more than just his advice. âYouâre a good friend.â
A pang hits Eddie right in his chest and he smiles despite it. âWe aim to please, down here, Stevie. All Inclusive Underworld Service.â He tilts his head exaggeratedly and holds his arms out, leaning heavily into his joke.
âI mean it, Eddie,â Steve continues earnestly. âItâs⌠nice, yâknow? Having you here when I die. Familiar face. Makes me feel like itâs all gonna be okay.â
Eddie softens at his words, letting his arms slowly fall to his sides. âIt is, Steve.â Eddie leans one the edge of the boat again, arms folding under his chest. âIâm glad weâre friends.â And he does mean it, despite the other feelings fighting for attention inside him.
Steve grins back at him, wide and genuinely happy amongst the cuts and bruises on his face. A few moments pass and Eddie briefly wonders how much time they have left. How much time before Steve disappears before his eyes again and leaves for an unknown amount of time. Once again torn between his want for Steve to stop getting himself hurt and killed, and his extremely selfish desire for Steve to stay with him, Eddie silently argues with himself.
âCan I ask you something?â Steveâs question once again draws Eddie out of his own mind.
Eddie shrugs. âSure, man.â
âHow did you⌠die?â Steve looks unsure as he asks. âIs it okay if I ask that?â He quickly adds.
âUh, yeah.â Eddie feels himself draw in a little, retreating into himself. âI mean. Kind of a shitty story. But itâs, yâknow. Whatever.â His hands flick and wave around with his words. âUm, I was doing this job with my dad and it just. Went bad.â
âYou donât have to tell me ifâŚâ Steve trails off, eyes going unfocused, pausing for a moment before he looks up again. âDamn it!â
Eddie feels disappointment crawl across his chest, knowing before he asks. âWhat?â
âIâm going back. I can hear Robin on the other side.â Steve sighs, seeming genuinely upset. âIâm sorry, man.â
âOh, itâsâitâs fine.â It doesnât feel fine. Eddie hopes it doesnât show on his face.
Steve gives him a half smile. âTell me next time?â
Not wanting to get his hopes up, Eddie tries to force his expression into one of mild admonishment. âDonât let there be a next time, Steve.â
His half smile turns to a full grin. âIâll try not to.â Steve slowly pulls himself up, brushing dry grass off his blue shorts.
âSteve, wait.â It comes out before Eddie can stop himself. âCould you⌠do something? For me?â The words come out stilted, and even as heâs speaking, he wonders why heâs even asking.
âSure, man. Anything.â Steve looks at him wide-eyed and attentive.
âJust, uh.â Eddie cringes at himself, forcing the words out before he can change his mind. âCould you, maybe, check on my uncle? See how heâs going? I justâI wanna know that heâs okay.â
A beat of silence sits between them before Steve responds. He sounds so determined. Like Eddie was entrusting him with something precious and important. âOf course, Eddie. I will.âÂ
Relief washes over him at Steveâs words. Eddie lets out a breath as the tightness in his chest fades. âWayne Munson. He lives over at the Forest Hills trailer park.â
âWayne Munson, Forest Hillsâ Steve repeats dutifully, giving a single nod. âGot it.â
âThanks, man,â Eddie says with sincerity, looking up at Steve from the boat. âMeans a lot to me.â
Steve looks at him for a moment, like he has something on his mind, but then jolts out of it. âSorry, I gotta go now.â
âYeah.â They continue looking at each other, somehow feeling closer now that Steve is standing, and Eddie feels the odd urge to reach out to him. Unsure what to do with that, he pushes that urge down into another compartment alongside the others to deal with later.
âThank you, Eddie. Seriously.â Steve smiles at him, bright and sincere through the bruises and lacerations on his face.
âAnytime,â Eddie says, slightly breathlessly. And then Steve is gone, leaving Eddie with an unfamiliar emptiness inside him.
Why does Eddie suddenly miss this man he barely knows? This awful feeling inside him that begs for attention and demands that Steve return reaches through Eddieâs chest and rattles against his ribcage. A strange sadness resting within him, waiting to be dissected.
Hours later, when heâs still feeling weird and sad, a realisation hits him. Eddie didnât even ask Steve to get in the boat.
Now I have lost the smile too đđđđđ
hooray
God damn it. This is awesome!!!!!!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!
-----
Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.
The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, âI'm taking my lunch!â
âNow?â Robin bitches. âDid you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-â She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. âOh. Huh.â
Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.
âI'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,â he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.
To Eddie, he says, âHere, since this brought you so much joy,â and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.
Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.
âThere,â Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. âYou keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.â
âA small price to pay for a free meal,â Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.
â
He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.
Dustin's away at camp, after all.
âWhy the hell are you working here?â Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.
Steve snorts. âNeeded to work somewhere.â
âOkay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?â
Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. âNot a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.â
Eddie scoffs. âWould your dad even know a real job if it bit him?â
âMy dad's never really had to work for anything,â Steve mutters. âI didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.â
Eddie tips back, looking him over. âYou don't look very humiliated.â
Steve shrugs. âBecause I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.â
Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.
âHow long have you been doing that?â he asks quietly.
âWhat, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?â Steve asks.
âYeah.â
Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.
âSince I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.â
Eddie's quiet again. âYou've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,â he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. âLot of bruises.â
He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. âOh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.â
Eddie considers that. âYour dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.â
Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. âSounds like you're familiar with it.â
Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. âCome on, man, you know who my dad is.â
âI know what people say about him,â Steve agrees. âBut I've learned not to listen to rumors.â
Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.
Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.
Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.
Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.
âYou can listen to these ones,â Eddie says after a while. âThey're mostly true.â
âYou deserve better,â Steve tells him.
He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.
âSo do you,â Eddie says without looking up.
They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.
Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. âCome on, I'll get us lunch.â
Eddie scowls at him. âYou bought last time.â
âYeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,â Steve counters, holding out his hand.
Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.
â
Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.
One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -
But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.
He doesn't need one.
Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -
âHi,â Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.
But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.
âHi,â Eddie says back.
And that's -
It's something.
â
Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.
It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.
â
He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.
He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.
â
This isn't like any beating he's taken before.
Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.
He can handle it.
Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.
"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."
Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.
He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.
But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.
It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.
They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.
He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.
They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.
His chest splits open.
The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.
His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.
"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."
The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.
The second soldier laughs.
"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.
The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.
"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"
"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."
Thereâs no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.
"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.
The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"
â
Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.
His chest aches.
Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.
Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.
But he's not alone now.
He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.
He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.
They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.
It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.
â
Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.
Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.
He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.
The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.
When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.
His stomach turns.
Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.
It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.
The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.
He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.
There.
Now no one will notice.
-----
This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Piercings, Genital Piercing, Kink Discovery, Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Idiots in Love Summary:
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
I saw a tiktok of steve asking kas!eddie what he wanted to eat and it's the vine audio of "the souls of the innocent" "a bagel" "nooooo" "two bagel" with eddie saying a bagel and vecna as the other voice. And now I'm like a craxk steddie fic from vecna's perspective would be soooooo funny. Like imagine he resurrects eddie as kas and thinks he'll be this great asset and spy, but he's just too *heart eyes* at steve to ba a) useful and b) controlled lmao. Eddie will be sitting in on some sort of planning session and vecna piggybacking in his mind is like "finally! an advantage!" But then steve will stretch or something and eddie just hones in on the sliver of his stomach he can see and his horny thoughts are too loud for vecna to hear the "master plan" anymore
hehehehe here's the vine for anyone that wants culture
His body was badly damaged. But his mind was as strong as ever. It was child's play to connect with Eddie Munson and use the forces of the Upside Down to repair his body into something usable. The boy fought, but then he reminded him of all of the pain he'd gone through, all the regrets, the people he had to leave behind and soon enough, their goals were one. They made it to the surface and sought out those he knew.
Surely they were already planning their next counter. But he couldn't allow that. With this body though, he could blend in seamlessly. They would welcome their resurrected friend with open arms.
"Steve?"
'Ah yes, Steve.' Eddie had quite a few regrets when it came to this one. Henry didn't realize it yet, but most of his problems would come from Steve Harrington.
When he considered the biggest obstacles, of course that title went to Eleven. Among the rest, Nancy Wheeler was probably the most dangerous after that. But beyond her, the rest were mere ants. He only knew as much as he needed to know for his own ends. It was why he knew Steve was important to Eddie.
He had simply underestimated how important.
He also overestimated his control when it came to this body. He was a mere passenger. And try as he might, he just couldn't get Eddie to tap into that rage and fury that had brought him back to life.
'They left you for dead! Kill them!'
"Eddie, how's this one look?", Steve asked, turning around in the outfit he'd chosen.
Vecna found his voice drowned out with Eddie's heart thumping in his own ears. Apparently there was something fetching about Steve in his summer shorts.
-------------------------
"Hey Eddie, what d'you feel like eating?", Steve said as he perused take out menus.
'Tell him how you hunger for flesh. How you wish to rend him limb from limb and feast on his blood.'
"Chinese sounds really good right now."
'Noo!!'
"Can we get orange chicken?"
----------------------------
He had thought they'd all but given up on trying to defeat him earnestly but was proven wrong when a meeting was called. Vecna felt vindication rising as everyone gathered and Nancy took the helm, laying out what had happened and what they'd done so far. And Eddie was listening intently. He knew he'd be important to their plan. He had new abilities and a connection to the Upside Down now. This was perfect! Now he'd know exactly what they were planning and they would be none the wiser. Still, no one had figured out he was looking through their trusted friend's eyes.
"Alright, listen up because there's more phases to the plan this time", Nancy said. "We've got more people and that's more ground to cover, but it's important that everyone knows their part and sticks to it." She gave Eddie a meaningful look.
'Yeess. Yeeeeeeeessssss', Vecna grinned as she began to lay out the first part of the plan.
And then Steve had to go and yawn and stretch his arms and suddenly Eddie's eyes weren't on Nancy's face anymore but on that tiny sliver of stomach as Steve's shirt rose.
'Noooooooooooo', Vecna wailed as Nancy's voice was drowned out with how much Eddie wanted to nibble on that stomach.
-------------------------
He was losing his patience with his predicament. Every time he called Eddie to heel went unanswered. It was infuriating to be reduced to this. His forces might not be ready quite yet, but it was time to put an end to this.
"I got the popcorn!", Dustin exclaimed.
"Sodas on deck", Lucas announced.
"What's the flick?", Steve asked, sitting down next to Eddie.
Vecna would call upon the powers he had and open up another portal. One that would spell the end of Hawkins and the world. Movie night be damned.
"Secret of NIMH", Dustin said, putting the movie in.
....He could wait another day. He hadn't seen this one yet.
1,321 words
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Eddie the hobbit, huh? i havenât read that one (which isnât saying much cause i've only read books from class) itâs probably good iâd love to hear you talk about it iâd love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe iâm biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but iâm only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these iâm sorry if you do promise iâll figure out a way to ask -H
Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesnât want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache.Â
After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days.Â
He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table.Â
Steve stops dead in his tracks.
Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. âWhat have I done to be blessed with his highnessâ presence?â
Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, âWhat are you doing here?â
Eddieâs arms drop to his sides and he raises his eyebrows in question.
âWhereâs Jones?â Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.
âAh, I see. Youâre here for my wares.â Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steveâs cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. âUnfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.âÂ
Whatever the fuck that means.
Steve canât help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. Heâs never talked to Eddie before.Â
Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddieâs hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, itâs a skull. He shouldâve known.Â
Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious and he doesnât wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He canât let anyone know that heâs writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasnât been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girlâs, still. No one can know).
âSo.â Eddie claps his hands and Steveâs eyes snap to his face. âWhatâll it be, my liege?â
Steve clears his throat. âUh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.â
âMhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.â Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. âAh ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.â
Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. âYeah, alright, man.â He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays. Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. âYouâre five bucks short.â
Steve stares at him deadpan.Â
âBirthday fee,â Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?â âCanât a guy make some extra change for his special day?â Eddie bats his eyelashes.
This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. âItâs your birthday?â
Eddie grins. âYup,â he says, popping the p, âTomorrow. The big one eight.â
Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.
Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. âHappy birthday to me, I guess,â Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards.Â
âHappy birthday, Munson,â he calls and Eddieâs head snaps up.
Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog.Â
Itâs not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet.Â
Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what heâs looking for. Heâs idly skimming over the womenâs jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. Itâs not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?
Steve tries it on and itâs a bit snug. Steve will admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddieâs hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner.Â
Itâs perfect.Â
âŚHe hopes itâs perfect.Â
Eddie heard through the grapevine todayâs someoneâs b-day i left a gift for you under the dealerâs table p.s. it didnât fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but youâll understand once you see it -H
He jogs to plant the present in its place. Heâd rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.
happy birthday eddie i donât know if you want me to keep writing or if you think itâs weird or what if you want me to stop just donât wear the ring and iâll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. youâre older than me now
Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off. Â
By lunchtime, Steve doesnât think he can look. He doesnât know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world.Â
He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he wonât have the guts to do it. Just as heâs resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where heâs sitting in Steveâs usual seat (he hadnât questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.
âGet down, freak!â
Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.
Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. Heâs passionate about whatever it is heâs talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks.Â
Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him.Â
Itâs then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.
tag list
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
Mmmmm
"Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.
A Steddie break-up fic where Steve, hopeless romantic Steve, is in a whirlwind romance with Eddie. And Eddie who finally gets his big break and plans to leave Hawkins in the rear view. It starts slowly, just little things Steve doesn't take to heart: Eddie getting distracted in the middle of a cuddle session or a kiss or even sex, Eddie pulling away quicker (but he's still loving on Steve so he doesn't really care), maybe cancelling more on their date nights or claiming that he's got plans already made with the Corroded Coffin boys.
And then the space between them just gets bigger and bigger and bigger, and Steve is left behind in the dust. Abandoned again. He's always looking to Eddie, but Eddie's not looking back. They're arguing more. There's a knot, a strain weighing on their relationship.
When Steve begins to pull back, Eddie barely puts in the effort to keep him tethered. And Steve, gullible and hopeless romantic Steve, lets Eddie get away with it. Because any attention is better than none. Even if he's going to bed alone every night, waking up to a going cold space beside him. Even if he's biting his fist during an argument, saving the tears for a quick shower. Even if he has to choke back on his emotions, because any big outbursts he thinks will push Eddie further away. Will spiral them out farther.
But then Eddie just abruptly leaves. Leaves their life, their friends, Hawkins as a whole. And Steve has to get his number through Wayne, who thought the boys were still together.
And it's not until Eddie answers with a, "Hello? Ohâhold on, babe, somebody's on the phone," that Steve finally puts two and two together. They aren't even dating anymore. He hangs up before say anything.
Eddie's left with the distant sound of somebody breathing on the other side and the dial tone. Never to hear from Steve again.
...anyway!