Runner / End Of Beginning
Steve has never seen his father as upset, as furious, as he was when he got home with his final exam results. He'd known- suspected- that his father would flip when his results came in...
His father got angry at small things. Hearing that he'd had a party while they were away, that a girl went missing at that party, had been the closest Steve thought he'd ever get to recieving a beating.
But when he came home with his grades... when his father realized that his son, his supposed prodigy, barely passed...
Steve has never ran as fast as he currently is.
As soon as he'd seen an openning, a clear line to the door, he'd stumbled to his feet and bolted. He'd picked a random direction and ran. He isn't going to stop running until he physically has to stop, knowing that his father is most likely in his car, trying to find him.
He can't stop. He has to keep running.
Eventually, he has to pause. He has to catch his breath.
He leans against a trailer, panting. He prays that no one thinks to look outside and spot him. He prays that no one will-
"Harrington?"
"Fuck." He hisses, squinting up at- "Munson?"
"What the fuck happened to you?" He says, eyes widenning when he finally gets a look at his face. "Second round with Hargrove, or what?"
"Nothing happened, I'm fine."
Munson eyes him for a moment, frowning. "Is someone after you?"
"What do you care?" Steve heaves a deep breath, forcing himself to stand up straight. He brings his knees up in a few knee highs, gearing up for another sprint.
"Ugh. Just- you can come into my trailer," Munson says, sounding as though Steve is forcing him to make the suggestion. "No one would think to look for you there. You can, like... I don't know. Drink some water? You jocks do that, right?"
"Wh- I don't need your help!"
"I'm not waiting for you all day, come on, let's go!" He makes a wide, exaggerated gesture for Steve to follow.
"You just assume I'm gonna follow?"
"Yeah."
He sounds so confident, so sure, that Steve can't think to do anything other thank blink and say, "fuck it, yeah, alright."
Steve is a little surprised at how much space Eddies trailer has. It's cramped, but in a nice way- the way a home gets when people actually live in it. When the people inside are actually happy and chase those joys.
Munson does get him a glass of water, mumbling at him to "sit anywhere", before flopping onto the sofa himself. He turns the TV on, focusing on that.
"Thanks," Steve eventually mutters, awkwardly sitting down.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"Sure."
"There isn't," he insists, despite how casual and accepting Munson is acting. "It's my fault, anyway. I deserved it."
"Did you?" Munson turns to him, eyebrow raised. "All us freaks and losers can talk about these days is your change of heart. King of Hawkins High turned lame boytoy."
"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Steve sneers.
"Even Jeff thinks you're alright now," he barrels on. "Said he bumped into you, pretty hard, knocked all your shit down, and you apologized. Said his coffee ended up on an essay, or something. Thought he was about to get his ass kicked and you just..."
He waves his hand at him, as though that's explination enough.
Steve doesn't know a Jeff, but he's pretty sure he knows who Munson is talking about, and; "I wasn't looking where I was going. If anything, we were both at fault."
"See?" Munson waves his hand at him again, a little more pointed. "Don't doubt you've got a long way to go, but you're not half-bad. You didn't deserve whatever the fuck happened to your face."
"Whatever."
They fall quiet, both pretending to watch whatever is on the TV. Steve is so zoned out that, when someone clears their throat, he flinchs.
"Sorry to startle you boys," the man chuckles. But the humor quickly teeters out, once he gets a good look at Steve. "You alright, kid?"
"I'm fine."
"He's not," Munson grins wide when Steve glares at him.
"Staying the night?" The man continues, only looking at Eddie now.
"If I can convince him," Munson shrugs.
"I can't stay the night," Steve tries.
"Good," the man nods, as though Steve hadn't said anything. "I'll start making us all some dinner." He finally looks to Steve. "You got any allergies?"
"I can't stay," Steve tries again, insisting.
"No," Munson answers for him. "No problems with meat either."
The man gives Munson a thumbs up, heading through to the kitchen.
"I can't stay," Steve repeats, turning to Munson. "Really. I have to go back or... I have to go back."
"What will happen if you don't go back?"
Steve grimaces. "Nothing. Just- I can't stay here."
"Why not? They gonna hit me too?"
"You know what, Munson? Yeah, probably. And your- your dad?"
"Uncle," Munson snorts, standing, stretching. "No one messes with us though. We're too scary." He wiggles his fingers in Steves face as he passes by. "And call me Eddie."
"Why?"
"It's my name."
Steve awkwardly follows him to the kitchen, hovering a good distance from the two of them, watch how they move around each other with so much comfort and ease. It makes something in Steves chest ache.
"Oh, hey, you like football right?" Eddie asks, pointing to him.
"Uh, yeah, kinda. Not enough to have, like, a team." Steve shrugs.
Wayne turns around slowly, eyebrows raised. "You don't got a team?"
Talking football with Wayne is so easy that, until he's halfway through the dinner he cooked, Steve doesn't notice how fast the time is going. He can't bring himself to be bothered though. It's too nice.
Plus, Eddie is almost bouncing with joy at how well Steve and Wayne are getting along.
Someone starts banging on the door, loud and aggressive, as they make their way to the kitchen.
"Alright!" Wayne calls, rolling his eyes. "Hold your horses."
Steves stomach drops when the door opens and his father is on the other side. He smiles at Steve, sickly sweet and dangerously calm.
"Oh, thank God," he sighs. "Steve, your mother and I have been looking all over for you. When you didn't get home-"
Wayne blocks his way when he tries to step inside. "Who are you?"
"Robert Harrington," Steves dad sniffs, leaning back so he can physically look down at Wayne. "I'm here for my son."
"He ain't here."
Robert Harrington splutters, face tinting red with anger and frustration. He points to Steve, voice raising as he says, "he's right there! And he's coming with me."
Wayne turns, slow and casual. "Huh. That's odd. Don't see him."
"Steve," he snaps his fingers at Steve, like he's a dog. "Come on. We're going home."
Eddie shifts so he's standing slightly in front of him.
It's enough reassurance for him to finally snap back; "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Steven-"
"Get off my property," Wayne snaps.
His father glares at them, waiting, as though he expects them to back down. When he doesn't, he snarls; "this is kidnapping."
"He's 18," Eddie drawls.
Grumbling, he stomps off.
"Asshole," Wayne mutters. He shuts and locks the door, sliding on the chain too.
Steve has to sit down, with how much his legs are shaking.
"You alright?" Eddie asks, hesitantly sitting beside him.
"Yeah," Steve says. He's surprised to find he means it. "Yeah, I'm good."
"You can stay here, long as you need," Wayne offers. "You'll have to bunk with Eds though. Not a lot of room."
"Why can't he use the sofa when you're-"
"Nope," Wayne cuts him off. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that has Steve squinting in suspicion. "And you'll need those cuts looking at. Eddie, why don't you go with him. Medkits in the bathroom."
Steve goes ahead when Eddie points the way to the bathroom.
Eddie tries to give Wayne a warning look but he's unbothered and, with Steves back turned, he gives Eddie an encouraging wink.
Yeah. It occurred to me that there’s only one possible path for this that fits the narrative tentpoles I’ve been building. I looked for others but nah. This is right.
Steve in that AU def goes to Eddie for drugs before Spring Break, asks for more than what Eddie has on him. Says he wants to sleep. Eddie is planning to upcharge the hell out of him, but money is money, even if the customer is a prick. Repeats it again at Eddie’s place, and for whatever reason, Eddie hears it differently that time, enough to make him pause and listen for real. Eddie is smarter than his grades. So he catches the way ‘sleep’ sounds like a stand in for something else, connects it to how Steve said he wanted more than a dose or two. Decides immediately he won’t sell him anything at all.
Eddie is listening now because he can’t stand the guy, but Dustin and the others would be destroyed by this. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to help or stop Harrington, but paying attention seems like the first step. Prompts Steve to talk more, explain why he wants the ket. So he catches a phrase that sounds familiar. A reference to a story that he knows from the letters he still rereads on rough days. A reference that only one person could know.
Eddie figures it out all at once.
Eddie finds out who X is, connects the dots on why the letters stopped, and before he can speak, or apologize, or cry, or connect the letters to the guy who just wants to ‘sleep’, Steve’s eyes roll back in his head.
stranger things anyone?
Steve's car + B99 reference = Steve naming his car Gertie (or Sexarella if you're feeling fancy).
"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?
"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."
"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"
"Do you?"
"He doesn't work here."
"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."
"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."
She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.
He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.
"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"
"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.
She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."
Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.
One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--
cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him
It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.
A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone
---
Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.
The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.
He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.
The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.
---
Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--
Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.
He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.
"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.
Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."
They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.
Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.
He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.
There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.
"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"
"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."
"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."
Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."
"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.
Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"
"Am I wrong?"
Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.
"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."
His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.
"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."
"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.
"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."
"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."
Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."
"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."
"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"
His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.
Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.
They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.
"Yes." Because there is no other answer.
He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"
"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.
She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"
He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."
Look, Eddie’s not in love with the fact that one of his new little sheep is Steve Harrington’s number one fan, but he’s got to give Dustin credit.
“Let me get this straight,” Eddie says at their nearly silent lunch table. “You want Steve Harrington - King of Conformity - to come to Hellfire.”
“Just until he gets the heaters in in his car fixed,” Dustin replies. He doesn’t even do Eddie the decency to look intimidated. “Otherwise, I got to leave exactly at six. It’s too cold for him to sit out in his car for hours and he’s my ride.”
Eddie has the flicker of an idea run through his mind and does the opposite of what he should. He says, “Fine.”
There’s a knock on the door a little after five and then there he is. The king gracing them with his presence, flashing a peace sign to them and taking a seat in the corner. And yeah. That won’t do.
Eddie reaches over and grabs the chair, pulling Steve closer to him and announces, “Meet the hostage, boys.”
Eddie rambles over Steve’s protest, laying the groundwork to build an hero’s journey upon. He describes the captive, where they’re at, what they’re doing which is - “Nothing, because our pretty, pretty princess is tied to a chair and-“
He snaps the ring of a handcuff around Steve’s wrist and then the other cuff to one of the rungs in his chair. He smiles at Steve, “-and can do nothing about it.”
And then Steve promptly has a panic attack.
[Part One] ✨ [You Are Here] ✨ [Part Three]
Steve can be a jealous man. He can be.
Just not in the same way that Eddie seems to thrive on it. Steve doesn't have a right to jealousy outside a relationship, so even if he feels jealous, he'll never act on it.
He thought it was just one of the many ways Eddie and he were incompatible romantically.
It was the same song and dance when they'd go out. Eddie would drag someone onto the dance floor and spend most of the dance making eyes at Steve until his catch of the night got jealous enough to pull Eddie out of eyesight.
Steve is used to that. That's the routine.
Except.
Well, except Eddie's broken the routine now, hasn't he?
Flipped the entire script by saying the things Steve has wanted to hear for years. I wouldn’t have rejected you and Jesus, Steve, you’re the only one I’ve really wanted.
Steve knows Eddie well enough to know that Eddie believes he's telling the truth or believes he really does want what he's saying to be the truth.
And now, sitting in silence in the back of a taxi that Eddie's gotten them, Steve can't bring himself to hope about it. Eddie's not a liar, as far as Steve knows, but that doesn't mean he actually wants Steve. Not for real. Not in the long run.
Steve can't give Eddie all the things Eddie seems to enjoy most. He's heard enough about Eddie's sex life to know they aren't super compatible in that department. And as far as he knows, Eddie's never even had a relationship. Just one-night stands and friends with benefits situations, which, y'know, Steve's not judging him about because Steve had all that once, too.
And maybe it's shitty of him to think but because Eddie's never been in a long-term monogamous relationship, Steve's not sure that one between them will work.
Okay. It's a lot shitty for him to think.
There's no real basis for Steve to think this other than that everything Steve wants out of a relationship, Eddie's shown him he wants the exact opposite.
Maybe Steve's just thinking shitty thoughts because it's easier than hoping that this might work.
The ride to the apartment is awkward only for Steve. They can't exactly talk about liking each other romantically in the back of a taxi where a stranger can clearly hear them, so they don't. Instead, Eddie chats up the cabbie about everything and anything that comes to his mind and Steve sits with just his thoughts.
Which are not being kind.
God, he's kind of a shitty person, isn't he?
Steve lets them both into the apartment and it feels different now. It's not like Eddie's never been in Steve's apartment. Hell, he's been sleeping in his old room for this whole 'break from the LA stress' he's taken. Has been here three days already, so this isn't even the first time this week that Steve's let them both into the apartment.
It's just different now that Eddie knows. Steve's been living his life with the assumption that Eddie knew but now he knows and everything is different.
"You, uh, want a beer?" Steve asks as he toes off his shoes, stalling because he doesn't know how to start this conversation. Isn't even sure he wants to because having this conversation means there is no going back. He won't be able to unsay these things, Eddie won't be able to unhear them. It'll be out there. All his hurt and love and fear and hope.
"Steve," is all Eddie says, in a tone that says 'we need to talk'.
So, Steve swallows thickly, nods, and heads for the living room. It's so stupid but he suddenly feels exposed, so he picks up a throw pillow from the couch before he plops onto it. He turns completely sideways, back to the armrest of the couch and legs crossed, pillow in his lap to act as a barrier of some sort. Something to feel less exposed.
Eddie takes longer to join him because, unlike Steve, he'd gotten completely done up for the bar and that includes full lace up combat boots that he can't easily slip out of.
Eddie finally joins him in the living room, pausing when he sees Steve before he moves to sit on the couch, one leg folded under him and the other on the floor. He leaves a respectable foot of distance between them and Steve's not sure if he's disappointed by that or not.
There is a tense silence that falls on them, neither brave enough to really begin the conversation that could be the end of everything.
"Steve, I- I don't even know where to start, man," Eddie finally says, running a hand through his hair.
"Me either," Steve says, looking down and picking at the pillow. "You were the one who said we needed to talk."
"Because we do?" Eddie sounds confused. "I, fuck man, I basically accused you of being in love with me and you confirmed it. We gotta talk about that."
Steve frowns because he doesn't agree. They don't have to talk about it. As far as Steve was concerned, they've been successfully not talking about it for years. Nothing has really changed from Steve's perspective. "What's there to talk about?"
"That you love me! And that I was, am, in love with you, too! That feels like a big deal!" Eddie cries, voice not loud enough to bother the neighbors yet but he can easily get that way. "You- why don't you seem as happy about this as I am?"
"Because I'm not," Steve says, stern and biting as he finally looks up from the pillow. "How am I supposed to be happy about this? This is going to change everything between us. Everything! And I've been- I've made peace with how this wasn't- with how things were between us."
Eddie stares back at him, eyes wide and mouth agape in his shock. It takes him a moment to recover. "I don't... understand. Why, why aren't you happy? Of course this will change things between us, but you make it sound like it'll be for the worse? I thought-"
"What? You thought you'd tell me you love me too and I'd jump into your arms?"
"Well, kinda," Eddie starts, but Steve doesn't want to hear it.
"I can't! Eddie, I can't. I'm not- I-I get that you, that you've just realized I loved you, but I've been living with the assumption that you already knew. I thought you knew for years. And now you're sitting here, telling me that you've felt the same. What, this whole time?"
"Yes! For longer, probably!" Eddie argues back, anger and hurt mixing on his face. "I've never known you to not go after the person you want, so why did you say anything sooner?"
"Why didn't you!?" Steve shouts, feeling the heat of tears in his eyes. He throws the pillow at Eddie and jumps from the couch to pace the living room. "We lived together for years! And I watched as you brought home guy after guy after guy. I listened as you waxed poetry about the perfect man for you; a fellow metalhead who would want to go to concerts with you, someone who'd play DnD with you and enjoyed your other nerd things, and-and-and," Steve stutters over the word, fighting back making a sobbing sound because it's one thing to let Eddie see his tears; it's an entirely different thing to let him hear the whole sob-fest Steve's fight back. "And a laundry list of all the kinks they have to b-be into so you don't get bored. I- God, you'd laid out your incredibly long list of standards that I didn't fit before I'd even realized I liked men. That I liked you! Why would I even try when I already knew I'd never measure up?"
He's pacing still. Movement helps him push the urge to cry down and makes the tears dry up. It takes him a while to realize that there's been no answer from Eddie. So, Steve finally gets his emotions under control and turns to look at the couch, to see Eddie's response.
He's not expecting to see tears falling down Eddie's own cheeks and wearing a face of heartbreak and regret.
Hero Steve
I saw in a tiktok with those tumblr post on them talking about world building, specifically, the lenguage; and it got me thinking about how in this isekai au the other world speaks a lot of other lenguages, and even if Steve has the cheat of an ability that makes him able to understand any idiom, well, i like to think he picks up some things.
Like the use of differents suffix (i don't know any other way to call them) when counting things, like, if they're people they use one, if they're an animals or a plants they use other and if they're objects there’s a thirth one.
I think it would be good for the cliché of going undercover to some shady market where there are slaves and the people in them use the suffix for objects. Steve would be livid.
Just a thought.
find me drawing brandless vague-chip looking food and the weirdest arm pose in history (they say write what u know, heh...)
i live here now.
Okay okay HOLD UP!
In season 1, last episode, Nancy gives Johnathan a camera for Christmas. Cuts to Steve asking “Did you give it to him?”
Am I the last to know? Am I the last to like, give this a really hard thought and, well, connect the dots?
Was it Steve who actually gave him the camera?
I feel like this has already been widely acknowledged and I’m just making a fool of myself, but I don’t really give a damn because Steve is now second on the list of best character development (Zuko continues to hold first place but he had more time).
I mean, listen, this young boy, who was raised in a shitty family with no affection and so he learned that the only way to be loved is to be generally likable, and so he learned that he’s of no worth unless people tell him he’s popular and cool, this young boy decided HIMSELF to grow. This young boy, who cares about his friends so much that he gives them his food when they mess up theirs, treated another boy in a way that didn’t sit right with him and said: “I have to make this right immediately.”
He acknowledged his mistakes, he apologized for them, and he did his best to prove to himself and others that he can do better. On his own. Because he wanted to.
Now, I’m a firm believer that Johnathan taking pictures of Nancy and Steve while they were both clothes down was horrible and actually deserved to be called out, but this just makes it even more powerful. Steve thought: “I went too far. Even if it hurt me, I shouldn’t ever hurt back.”
We see this in season 2, 3, and 4 as his thing later. Nancy hurts him and he goes to apologize, eventually letting her gently go. Robin turns him down and he tries to make it easier for her. (Sure, Billy got punched, but in this case Steve was protecting children. And again, these children were kind of mean to him, still he went to bleed for them.)
In season 4, he goes to the Upside Down first, putting his life on the line for others.
He remembers when he used to do things he would regret, and now he would rather die than have to sit with these regrets again.
I love him. Please let him have a nice life. Please let him and Robin get an apartment and laugh while watching Full House and Friends and make margaritas on Friday evenings.
He/She Steve Harrington my beloved ♡ ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧ [ENG/ESP] Personal blog: imgoingtobed | Artblog(?: whatami-chopliver
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