fun fact when calling Robin Steve will say "Hey Robbie-Bo-Bobbie" and Robin will answer "Yes Dingus-Bo-Bingus?"
Eddie walked into Steve’s house to find the kids crowded around the entrance to the living room. He looked in to find Robin and Steve hanging upside down on the couch, looking depressed.
Eddie: What's going on?
Dustin: They got rejected by a cult today.
Robin: And the thing is, we didn't know it was a cult.
Steve: And when we did figure it out, we didn't want to join, but suddenly, they wanted us!
Robin: And now they don't!
Steve: What the hell does "too perfect" even mean?!
Max: Why are you upset they rejected you?! They kidnapped you!
Robin: And it's nice to feel wanted sometimes, Maxine!
Eddie: Okay, where the hell is this place?
An hour later, Eddie stormed back into the house, brushed past the kids, and threw himself down next to Robin.
Robin: You get rejected, too?
Eddie: They just looked me up and down and shook their heads! Then, when I demanded answers, they threw me out! What the hell kind of cult is this?
Steve: It's a rude cult.
A few minutes later, Hopper came to pick up Will and El.
Hopper: *looking into the living room* What the hell happened?
Will: Go easy on them, dad. They got rejected by an entire cult today.
Hopper: What?!
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)
I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol
Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl
If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.
Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.
The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.
The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.
Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."
"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."
Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.
"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."
"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."
Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."
Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.
He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).
That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.
This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.
She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"
"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.
Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.
"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"
"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."
"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"
Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."
A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.
Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.
"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.
"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.
"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."
Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.
The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.
She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."
Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.
It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.
‐-----------------------------
Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.
That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."
After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."
Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.
When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.
"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"
Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."
Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"
In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?
"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.
It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.
"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.
They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.
A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.
Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.
The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."
What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."
Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.
Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.
After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.
"They usually don't fight at all."
Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.
Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.
He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"
With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.
"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.
"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."
Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.
"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."
"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."
The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"
"Gotham."
"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."
The Gift that Keeps on Giving - Part 2
Part 1
minor TW: Cheating (you'll see)
Working out how to tell Eddie they can’t keep this up is harder than it seems. How does he say that he’s too close to falling for him and they should just go back to the beginning and make this a business transaction, or forget Steve even asked? Backing himself out of this corner isn’t easy. He types out so many messages and deletes them, his thumbs hurt. He finally sends something short and to the point. A quick ‘I can’t do this anymore, but thank you for everything.’
That’s met with radio silence. He checks the chat later to see that it’s been read, but there’s no response. No little ellipses bubble telling him a reply is forthcoming. No thumbs up or impersonal got it. Just nothing. He goes to their account and sees it’s still actively posting about the tour, so Eddie’s been on and had a chance to reply, but he hasn’t. Before Steve can let that sink in and ruin his day, there’s a knock on his door.
There’s a courier there, an inconspicuous man that Steve frowns at. He isn’t expecting anything from his father, but he takes the envelope and signs for it. The contents surprise him. The small Stevie written at the top that he runs his fingers over in disbelief. He doesn’t remember telling Eddie his address. Maybe there are perks to having a legal team and record label behind you. It doesn’t really matter how he figured it out. Because out falls two tickets to the Corroded Coffin show in Indy. The show that’s just two days away.
Eddie followed through on his promise. Steve thought he’d forgotten all about the reason they started talking. He certainly was flirting enough to make Steve forget. There’s the possibility that Steve was reading too much into it. Tone is hard to gauge over text. Eddie’s probably like this with everyone. Playing it up to maintain that rockstar image. It probably didn’t mean anything to him, while Steve’s insides were molten lava every time his phone pinged with a reply from Eddie.
It’s bittersweet to be holding these in his hands after everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. He got what he wanted, but at what cost? The realization that he doesn’t want his boyfriend. He wants Eddie Munson. Who he has no chance in hell with. Does he even deserve to take his boyfriend to this show? Eddie never should’ve sent the tickets after Steve lured him in and ghosted him with a quick message and no further explanation. He should probably tell his boyfriend the truth, hand over the tickets and admit what a failure this relationship has become because of him. All it took was a rockstar paying attention to him to make him stray, so how good of a boyfriend can he be, tickets or no tickets.
Turns out the distance between him and his boyfriend wasn’t one sided. When Steve walks in on him with another man that night, ready to confess and hand over the tickets, it should be more shocking, or at least more devastating. He’s all too aware that the anger he should feel is nonexistent. Steve’s been cheated on before and it’s never a pleasant feeling, but it feels hypocritical to get mad at him, given where Steve’s thoughts and feelings have been over the past few weeks.
Steve heads home with a weight off his chest. Lightest he’s felt since Robin pointed out his honeymoon eyes over Eddie’s messages. There’s not much love lost on this relationship, but he doesn’t know what to do with the tickets now that his boyfriend’s out of the picture. He doesn’t try reaching out to Eddie again, unsure how anything he’ll send would even be received. But he doesn’t want to just let them go to waste, not after everything.
He winds up dragging Robin to the show. She’s not into this kind of music, and Steve wasn’t either, at first, but Eddie is electrifying when he performs and Steve was drawn in from that first music video and hasn’t stopped listening since. And Robin loves Steve. She’d do anything for him, and he’s never more thankful to have her at his side when he hands over the tickets and they’re ushered backstage.
There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary on the tickets as far as Steve saw, but something must have tipped the system off that they weren’t run-of-the-mill tickets. Security guards escort them into a tunnel, where they get on a golf cart and get whisked away to an unknown destination. Robin’s whining under her breath that they shouldn’t have come and Steve’s having flashbacks to herding children through the back of the mall when he was slinging ice cream and getting bullied by Nancy's younger brother into free movies for him and his friends.
The destination turns out to be a suite, or a dressing room of some sort. A door labeled Eddie Munson that sticks out amongst the white painted concrete they’re surrounded by. He’s not sure if they’re under the stage or behind it, but there’s a loud humming sound and bass reverberating in the cavernous hallway. He doesn’t get much time to process his surroundings before the security guard is rapping on the door with a curt Mr. Munson and stepping aside.
When the door flings open, a man with intentionally windswept hair and tight leather pants greets them. By greets, he stares dumbly at them, slack jawed and eyes on Steve, like he can’t believe they’re real. Steve doesn’t know what to say anymore than it seems Eddie does, with his doe eyes and surprised tilt to his head. After a beat of silence that goes on too long, Robin clears her throat.
“How drunk was I?” Eddie asks, brows furrowing as he takes in Robin. “I could’ve sworn you said boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Robin chirps, grinning like a maniac.
“Do you mean, you were a boy and now you’re a girl?” Eddie leans against the doorframe, perplexed, and Steve is distracted by the way his shirt rides up and reveals a sliver of pale skin to tease him. He can see a santa hat sticking out of the back pocket of his pants.
Robin gags at the thought of being Steve’s partner in anything other than crime. She points at herself, “Robin Buckley, always a girl,” then she points at Steve, “always a dingus,” and sticks out a hand for Eddie to shake. “Platonic lesbian best friend, at your service.”
“Eddie Munson,” he says, shaking her hand but looking over at Steve, a bemused grin dancing on his lips. “What happened?”
“You did,” Steve says, a little breathless.
TBC
For Reasons™, I have fallen down the rabbit hole of research and I don't know if anyone but me cares this much, but I found some really good pictures of the interior of a 1983 BMW 733i, which is the make and model of Steve's car.
Being a Rich Kid, I'm choosing to believe Steve's car had all the bells and whistles, except the sunroof option. Which includes a built-in mobile phone!!
We'll start with the front seat area.
And then the backseat. Pretty standard, but if you look at the back of the center console, you'll see that the back passengers can control their own AC settings, albeit limitedly. Severely lacking in cup holders though.
And the trunk!! It's got a built-in toolkit, and a lovely cover to hide the tire.
These are just the images I think would be relavant for any fic-related needs! However, you can see the entire gallery of images (over 300!!), as well as watch a video full tour, if you click here.
The truth is that Steve has a lot of fun at the concerts he attends with Eddie even though most of the time he didn't understand anything of what some of the metal singers were singing. But it was fun, he wasn't a metal fan but going to concerts with Eddie were those times when they could go outside as a couple and date without people noticing.
Tonight Metallica was playing, it was the first time they would see them now that they moved to Chicago and well Eddie is pretty excited and Steve does his best to keep up with him, he even recognizes some songs.
When they play Master of Puppets a shiver runs down his spine, and even though he can't touch Eddie like he would like to because they are in public, just looking at him is enough to make him feel better, because his Eddie is alive and he is right where he belongs.
As the concert is about to end, the band starts playing a song that Steve immediately recognizes....
"That's our song!" Steve exclaimed with excitement.
"What are you talking about?"
The song was soft, different from the ones Metallica usually played, the stadium was less noisy than before because the audience was concentrated on the opening notes. Steve approached Eddie with a bright smile and whispered:
"That was the song we were listening to when you kissed me for the first time."
Eddie looks at him with complete love, desire and affection. They are so close to each other and yet they can't get any closer, it hurts but it comforts him to know that he will go home with that boy.
"I'm going to spend a lifetime kissing you Steve Harrington, until we are allowed to kiss throughout the entire setlist of a concert"
Eddie whispers in his ear and kisses his cheek, his lips barely graze his cheek but with that he seals the promise. Immediately he pulls back and instead wraps his arm around Steve's shoulders, Steve smiles without taking his eyes off the stage and places his hand on Eddie's, as the song plays he discreetly intertwines their fingers.
----
The song is Fade to Black btw. Metallica played in Chicago on November 17, 1988, that is the concert attended by these two lovebirds. ✨️
steve gets nervous his first time asking a guy out
sunshine boy!!!!
You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.
Eddie really is just that nice and friendly, but Steve is convinced that Eddie is flirting with him. He’s flirting back, less confident and more subtle than he usually would, but he’s never liked a guy that way.
Not in a way that made him really want to spend every waking moment just hearing them ramble. Not in way that made Steve want to keep him the way he wants to keep Eddie. Everything is so new. It feels, delicate. Precious.
His heartbeat quickens each time Eddie leans into his space and it’s been happening all the time now that Steve worries he’ll develop a heart condition if he doesn’t deal with it soon. When Eddie laughs and leans his face closer to his own, looks into Steve’s eyes through those lashes in a way that Steve can’t help but take a quick glance at those lips curled is mischief.
He’s always so happy to see Steve, wasting no time in bouncing his way to greet him and pull him into the conversation with an arm slung around his shoulder. Then there’s the moments of shared glances when someone says something particularly astounding. And how Eddie will make his way into Steve’s space when they sit together, throwing his feet in his lap or leaning into his side.
Sure, Eddie is friendly but not to this extent. Not with everyone else. Steve feels it. Knows it. That electricity between them that makes this thing between them different. Special.
But one day (another that Steve spends trying to work up the courage to do something), they’re in the city shopping for music in an alternative store that’s tucked away. Steve is talking to Eddie, giddy and happy because it just them today, and Eddie is nodding along while he browses through the tapes and then,
Eddie looks up and stills, eyes widening just a bit. And Steve is still rambling along, but he can tell his words are just going through one ear and out the other. He trails of caught in the middle of his story because he’s never seen this look on Eddie face.
Eddie’s mouth is slightly agape, eyes alight caught in wonder and soft as he looks at something across the room and when Steve turns to see what caught his eye—
A guy stands a couple tables away looking at some vinyl and shyly smiling at Eddie in small glances. He’s a bit taller than them, dressed in black with a couple of piercings decorating his face, the sides of his head shaved short. Attractive, dementor coy and kind.
His heart skips a beat again, but it feels different this time.
Steve looks back at Eddie whose cheeks are slightly dusted in pink.
“Eddie-“
Eddie takes his lower lip between his teeth before smiling back at the guy and continuing without casting a second glance at Steve, “yeah, uh, give me a second, okay?” And he’s crossing the room without waiting for a response.
His chest. It feels…
Like those few seconds before plummeting down a rollercoaster… when your way up high, at the very top, the moment still with the anticipation of the fall, and there’s nowhere else to look but down.
You finally plummet and caught in the whiplash thinking you must have left your heart back at the top.
There’s static there on the bottoms of his feet and at the palm of his hands. The world goes a bit distant as he watches them.
Eddie’s leaning against the wall with a sultry smile adorning whatever sweet words he’s speaking.
Steve’s drowning in the honey, it’s palpable. doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that he can’t hear the words.
Eddie’s fiddling with a curl that’s draped over his shoulder, pulling it slightly over his face like a young school girl.
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie appear anything but confident and loud; the image of the person in front of him is foreign, strange.
Eddie’s speaking to him but his eyes are locked on the guy’s lips that are wet from the tongue that peaks to briefly lick them as he listens.
Eddie’s shoe is nudging the guys own, as he talks, playful.
Oh.
Oh.
Mouth dry, Steve’s throat clicks.
It’s hard to swallow.
Steve Harrington, who has a very “in name only” relationship with his parents, the people who claim they love him lots but have simply given him cash for his last six birthdays without bothering to send a card.
Steven Harrington, who lost his connection to the only adults in his life who actually parented him when he had his final fight with Tommy and Carol-- not that they ever really did that much. Having an adult put a bandaid on his knee and complimenting him for being tough was plenty enough.
Steve Harrington, who drove Dustin and co. to the Byers house that one Christmas and was told by Hopper not to come in; that Joyce was still mad at him about the ‘demodog in the fridge’ and figured his exclusion was fair--it wasn’t like Hopper actually liked him. Joyce certainly had no reason to. It wasn’t like he was doing anything for Christmas anyways.
Steve Harrington, who is fairly certain Robin’s parents have clocked her as queer but who still treats him in that careful way many parents do when he’s hanging around their daughter. There’s a barrier there, in the way of firm handshakes and “get her back safe”’s that keep things formal. (It’s never bothered him before, and he swears it doesn’t bother him now.)
Steve Harrington, whose relationships with adults are defined by words like “networking”, “proper connections”, “favors”, and “finances”, who has at best been treated like a miniature version of his father and at worst as a spoilt moron, who encounters Wayne Munson and has no idea what to do with the man.
Wayne Munson, who asks him actual questions about his life. Who asks him to watch the game with him. Who calls him “boy” and “son” in ways that sound affectionate and not frustrated. Wayne, who shoos him away from the dishes and compliments his cooking, who has invited Steve over when Eddie isn’t even home.
Steve Harrington, who keeps apologizing to Eddie because “I’m not trying to steal your Uncle man, I promise.” and doesn’t believe Eddie when the latter just laughs at him.
(“You can’t steal Wayne, Steve.” Eddie says with a snicker, when he finally figures out what Steve is apologizing for. The guy apologizes a lot for things that make no sense, it’s a bad habit Eddie’s working on him with. “Though I do believe he has been trying to steal you.”
“Oh.” This does not relieve Steve. In fact, this seems to make him more nervous looking, which Eddie does not want.
“I uh. I don’t want to come between you guys so I guess we can just hang at my house…?” The voice he trails off with is downright painful for Eddie to hear, and he’s already slashing his hand in the air in a wild ‘No’ before Steve can even finish speaking.
“Dude you’re fine. I’m glad you guys are getting along! Wayne needs someone to talk sportsball with and clearly so do you because you keep trying to talk about it to anyone who will listen.”
“I guess if you’re alright with it…”)
Steve Harrington, who allows himself to be adopted by the Munsons much in the way a feral cat lets itself become domesticated, and who starts looking at Wayne like the man hung the moon.
Wayne Munson, who is referred to by Steve as “Dad” exactly once, and feels so fucking happy about it he misses the panic attack Eddie has to talk Steve through.
He also misses that that is the moment when Steve accidentally confesses his feelings to Eddie in the Munson’s (new) cramped bathroom, on grounds that “I can’t date you and also call Wayne dad like that, that’s weird! Isn’t that weird!? It feels weird!”
(“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, trying not to smile and failing entirely. “I get what you’re saying, but I think in your panic you missed something kinda key, there.”)
Steve Harrington, who gets himself an entire family in the end (and gets to both call Wayne “dad” and Eddie as his boyfriend, without issue, because “we’re not related babe, you can call your inlaw whatever you want.”
“Now who's skipping steps? When did we get married?”
“The very second it’s legal, that’s when.”)
--and has never been happier in his life.
There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it) ------
Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.
Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.
He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.
The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.
The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.
Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.
But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.
In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.
Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.
"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.
Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.
He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.
Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.
After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.
He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.
New Message: Steve H.
Fuck.
-------
Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.
He/She Steve Harrington my beloved ♡ ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧ [ENG/ESP] Personal blog: imgoingtobed | Artblog(?: whatami-chopliver
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