Missed My Honeys

Been having Secretly Smart Steve thoughts except it's less that his intellect is a secret and more that nobody ever noticed lmao

The initial thought for this is based on my mom's stories about acting like a ditzy airhead in high school but then graduating with honors

Within five minutes of walking into high school Steve definitely clocked that being cool was more important than being smart right? So he didn't really let on that he was good at class stuff and just let people think he was a simple jock

And Steve graduating isn't a huge thing cuz it happens during UD stuff which means they all miss graduation ceremony and just get their degrees later, so it's not like anyone saw the honors tassels that steve was given to wear with his grad gown

And the first real hint is Lucas trying to make a basket and getting frustrated. And Steve is like "here I'll show you" and proceeds to make every throw he makes from anywhere on the court and when Lucas asks how the fuck he does that Steve shrugs and is like "well, i mean, its all angles man"

Later Mike and Will are working on an egg drop project (you know the ones) and getting worked up cuz the eggs keep cracking. Steve has been watching TV or something the whole time and outta nowhere is like "yall are missing shock absorption and proper wind resistance, duh"

Nancy is trying to decode some number based cipher for fun but it's becoming rapidly Not Fun and Steve looks over her shoulder for like two seconds and goes "group the numbers into twos, subtract 18 from each, and then it's the alphabet letter based on the number" and then just walks off

Dustin is taking an engineering class and is having trouble building a bridge cuz it keeps collapsing when he sends a hot wheels car over it. Steve tells him he needs more load-bearing beams and to distribute the weight evenly and Dustin is surprised when it works

And, of course, Eddie sees all of this so one day when Max or Erica ask for help with some geometry homework he takes the worksheet they give him and immediately passes it along to Steve, waves off their disbelief, and sits all smug while Steve explains concepts they'd been missing entirely

Drawn for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 6 prompt Cooking Together.

The prompt was "cooking together" but nothing said Eddie had to be actually helpful, or couldn’t have a snack.

Meanwhile, poor Robin just wants her food 😩😂

(I headcanon Steve as an amazing cook, and while Robin is severely tempted to order takeout when Eddie starts under-the-shirt-groping, she wants her hand-made pasta dammit.)

Tony: kiddo by any chance did you tell anyone that I adopted you?

Peter: of course, mr.Stark, I am a freaking teenager with no self control who desperately adored you, of course I did.

Tony: jeez, that was a good one, but no need for sarcasm.

Peter: huh? I was serious, mr. Stark.

I'm curious what jabed shippers think of the line "lots of girls like me because lets face it, im pretty adorable, and my aloofness unconsciously reminds them of their fathers", because I woke up in a cold sweat thinking about Jeff Daddy Issues Winger. I'm connecting the dots there's something there.

Steve gets a phone call from Eddie one afternoon. . .

Eddie: So, what are you wearing, big boy?

Steve unfortunately thought Eddie was messing with him, so he decided to mess with him back. Steve rolled his eyes.

Steve: *scoffs* Your vest and nothing else, of course.

There was a long silence and then. . .THUD.

Steve: Eddie?

There was a sound of someone else's feet, and then he heard Wayne's voice in the distance.

Wayne: You damn near broke your new Garfield phone. What are you doing on the floor, and why is your nose bleeding?

Another pause, and Steve heard Eddie speak.

Eddie: Steve. . .vest. . .nothing.

Oops, he accidentally broke Eddie. Steve smirked.

eddie is the type of person that if you do finger guns at him he will commit to acting like he got shot, like hand over his chest and dropping dead weight to the floor no hesitation. maybe even a “IVE BEEN SHOT!” escapes his lips sometimes. he does this without fail every single time no matter where he is. he gets detention more than once for doing this in the school library bc his friends think it’s funny. he does do it once in scoops in front of steve which is actually embarrassing for him but he’s nothing if he doesn’t commit to a bit so. he does it anyway and counts it as a win when steve actually laughs, it was small, hidden behind his hand but it was a laugh nonetheless

I find it strange that, although music is very present in Stranger Things fics, Michael Jackson is never mentioned. Seriously, I've never read a single steddie fic in which one of his songs appears.

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

Eddie gets famous but Steve is the one who ends up addicted to the kind of shit Eddie knows better than to touch. The band is taking off and Eddie worries, so Steve makes sure that he keeps it hidden. If he had less money, he would have a slower slide into deeper, more dangerous risks. But his boyfriend is the lead guitar of the band on the cover of magazines, so it's easy for Steve score. His boyfriend is famous and touring and Steve is listed as a personal assistant as he tags along. His boyfriend is performing to a roaring crowd at Madison Square Garden, and Steve is overdosing in the bathroom.

Jealousy works on Eddie. Much like flattery.

If you want all of Eddie's attention, giving yours to someone else is almost a surefire way to make that happen.

Because of this it takes Eddie far too long to realize that jealousy doesn't work on Steve.

It finally clicks into place for him on the night he decides to give up on Steve Harrington. It's been years of friendship and flirting and Steve has never taken the next step. (Eddie hasn't, either, but that's not the point.)

The point is it's been years. Years of ups and downs, of coming out to each other, of Corroded Coffin getting signed and rising in fame. Years of Steve job hopping until he settled in at a local little bookstore in Indy.

Years of Eddie never having a serious relationship, and neither did Steve. They just danced around each other, Eddie trying his best to make Steve jealous enough to make a move. But he didn't.

He never did. Never does.

And now he's here, back at the gay bar that he, Steve, and Robin used to be regulars at when they all first moved to Indy in the fall of '86, making the night of some random guy who was wearing a Corroded Coffin band shirt. They're grinding together more than actually dancing, faces so close that they'd be kissing if either of them would just pucker their lips.

And it's out of habit, of checking that he might see the green-eyed monster lurking within Steve's features, that he looks. His eyes flick from the face of this random fan to Steve, and he sees it.

Not jealousy. Never jealousy.

Instead, he sees what he's been missing all this time.

He watches as Steve catches that Eddie is looking, watches as Steve schools his features into a supportive smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Watches as Steve gives him a dorky ass two thumbs up.

Eddie stops dancing, tells the guy he's been dancing with he has to go, and beelines to Steve.

Because he saw.

He saw that he can't make Steve jealous because all he's been doing is making him sad.

Steve's eyes go wide in surprise, but he goes easily when Eddie takes his wrist and tugs him along.

"Eddie, man, what's up?" Steve asks once they're outside, his brows furrowed in the way they do when he's confused and concerned.

"You're in love with me," Eddie gasps, a revelation and an accusation all in one.

And Steve. Beautiful, perfect Steve, doesn't deny. In fact, he has the audacity to shrug sheepishly with one shoulder. "Of course, I am."

"What do you mean of course!?"

"I didn't- it's not a secret?" Steve cocks his head. "Or, I thought you knew."

"No! I mean, I knew you were attracted to me. We've- there's been so much flirting that bit was obvious, but this. This. God, Steve, you look like I'd just ripped your heart out and stomped on it. And I didn't know."

Steve is silent for a moment, a small frown on his face as he processes Eddie's words. "Oh. I thought you knew. Y'know, that it was just a part of our friendship."

It makes something sour within Eddie. "I- what? What do you mean 'part of our friendship'?"

"The- our thing. The flirting. We flirt but it's never more than that. It's like, uh, like a warm up. We flirt and then go out and I help you get laid by just being me. Y'know. Like how people want what they think they can't have, or that they want something just because someone else also wants it? That's what I do for you. I thought- well, I thought you knew. That it was part of your whole thing."

"My whole thing!? What thing? There's no thing!" Eddie feels like an asshole suddenly. Eddie had been trying to use those other guys to make Steve jealous, not make the other guys jealous using Steve. How had he not known? How had he not seen?

"Your kinky thing!" Steve hisses, high pitched and even though he's almost 30 Eddie sees that Steve is blushing. "That you like to be watched or whatever."

"I don't have an exhibitionism kink!" The few people who are also outside the bar turn to look when Eddie shouts but he does his best to ignore them. In a quieter voice, he asks, "why would you do that? Why didn't you ever just tell me you loved me?"

"Because I didn't want to actually hear you reject me?" Steve is now looking at Eddie like he's grown a second head. "I could survive the not having you, dude, but I don't think I could continue to be around if you'd actually said- if I heard you. What's this about, Eddie?"

"I wouldn't have rejected you," Eddie pleads, "I was- I won't reject you. Jesus, Steve, you're the only one I've really wanted!"

Eddie watches with horror as instead of happiness, Steve's face crumples.

"Don't," Steve says, voice water. "Don't. Just- don't. We- I can't be who you want. We can't- I'm fine. I'm fine with how we are. With how this always goes. Don't."

Eddie swallows down the immediate argument that wants to come. He's messed this up. He's fucked up so bad and wasn't even aware he was doing it. Steve's in love with him, apparently, and thought that Eddie knew and was okay with using Steve's affection to get with other people.

And he can't even- he can't even be mad that this is the conclusion Steve came to, because it's what he's been doing.

Clinging to other people, dancing with them, eventually taking them home. Trying to make Steve jealous enough to make a move, when he should have just been making a move. Pulling Steve onto the dance floor, clinging to Steve.

Going home with Steve.

"I think we need to talk sweetheart," Eddie says, "I've been- I've been doing this all wrong. I've gone about this the wrong way. Can we go home and talk?"

Home is, of course, the original apartment they all shared. A little two bedroom place where Robin and Steve shared a room until Robin moved into a place with her girlfriend. Then it was just Eddie and Steve until Corroded Coffin got signed.

And Steve still lives there. In that apartment that still has Eddie's name on the lease, just in case.

Steve swallows thickly, and Eddie sees the years of unintentional wounds behind his eyes. Years of thinking Eddie didn't want him. Even so, Steve nods.

"Yeah. We can talk at home."