This same post has now been posted multiple times in different fandoms the only change is the ship tag. If you see it pls report. (Multiple post have been reported just waiting for them to be taken down)
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Steve grew up wearing soft bright sweaters and overalls with a ton of clips in his hair
His dad was actually super supportive, but said he couldn't wear the clips when his mom could see
Then, when he got older and went to school he was made fun of for how he dressed bc it was too baby/girl-ish, and his dad says he can't wear the around his mom anymore either cause she told his dad the same thing, so he stopped wearing them completely
Then in HS he starts wearing what he does in the show and it doesn't feel right and it makes him itch for something softer but he knows he isn't allowed and he just wants out of this-
But he can't cause now he's King Steve and all eyes are on him
So he sits in his itchy and too tight clothes.
Then he notices Eddie Munson, standing on tables in his big boots and denim and handmade shirts, and he kinda hates him cause WHY can't HE have that???
Then the kids become friends with Eddie and he's so much and Steve can't help but look at him with stars in his eyes when Eddie drapes himself all over Steve
Steve's started wearing his sweaters again by this point, but only BOY sweaters from the MEN'S sections that are never quite soft enough
Then he realizes one day, with the party gathered around him for a movie night, Robin's head on his lap and Eddie's arm around his shoulder
It's doesn't MATTER
They've fought demons, who cares what he wants to wear??
So Steve goes shopping. He can't get himself to go anywhere in hawkins, but he goes to Indy by himself and picks out a ton of sweaters from the women's section this time before something stops him in his tracks
Overalls. He bites his lip, unable to look away, and carefully adds them to the pile in his arms
He goes to the changing room and tries on the first sweater, his shoulders instantly loosening at the feel of the soft fabric against his skin
He then eyes the overalls, still at the top of the pile on the little bench, biting his lip again and looking around despite the small stall being locked
He leans over and grabs them, slowly putting them on and then straightens to look at himself in the full length mirror
And oh
That's him
It takes him weeks before he feels comfortable wearing any of his new clothes around the party, but he decides Eddie should be the first, since he's helped inspire the whole thing
So, the next time they've planned to hang out at Steve's (Eddie had been horrified Steve hasn't seen The Labryth) Steve puts on his yellow cardigan with his lighter wash overalls and waits
The doorbell eventually rings and Steve goes to get it, taking a second to breath and wipe his hands on his legs before opening the door
Eddie seems to freeze when he sees him and Steve's shoulders hitch up to be by his ears
Then he's tackled into a hug, stumbling back in the doorway
"Sweetheart, sweetheart, you look so... You look so you," Eddie says into his hair
Reading the book series and wow I thought the whole ‘Hayden has a crush on Shane’ was a fun joke BUT LIKE ITS SO HEAVY IMPLIED THAT HE’S SOMEWHAT ATTRACTED TO SHANE.
I regret not reading these in order ALSO Kip and Scott deserve a second book 🙏
Eddie and Steve getting super fucking stoned together and then Eddie stupidly says, "Wonder what would happen if you blew smoke into somebody's pussy..."
And then Steve is like, "Wanna find out?" (also being stupid)
Cut to five minutes later, Steve's dropped his pants and is being pierced by Eddie's cock. Fast, rough, and sweaty. They're moaning and groaning into each other's mouths. Gripping tight to each other's hair.
That's how they start dating. That's how Eddie finds out Steve's trans. That's also how Eddie loses his virginity.
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Steve’s always a little insecure in his relationships, always worries that they’re only in it for a short while, that all their promises are just words, no truth behind them.
He’s two months into his relationship with Eddie, and Steve’s already very in love with him, and it’s terrifying. This is the most in love Steve has ever been.
They said it for the first time the other day, during a super romantic and cosy night of Chinese takeout and nostalgic kids movies, snuggled up on the couch with never ending kisses. They had sex that night too, for the first time.
They had fooled around only a couple of times before that, nothing too serious, and only twice, since Eddie’s Demisexual. Steve didn’t know that waiting was exactly what he needed, assurance that Eddie wasn’t just there for his body.
After that night he feels even more connected to Eddie, feels the love radiating from his goofy smile and his puppy dog eyes. And the way Eddie kissed him, the way Eddie touched him, it was unforgettable. Genuine electricity. Steve had never felt so special and precious in his life, never felt so loved.
He’s still got his insecurities though, now that they’ve stepped up their relationship, Steve’s gotten a lot more comfortable, shown the secret side of him, the side that only Robin knows about really. He’s worried, like all the rest of them, that Eddie won’t like him anymore, that he’ll leave.
Robin tells him he’s being negative and stupid, Eddie’s totally the one, she can feel it!!
Steve wants to feel it, thinks the tips of his fingers are buzzing from it, but he just won’t let himself. Not yet. Not until he knows for sure.
They’re on FaceTime, having dinner together because Eddie’s gone away for a few nights with his band for a gig, and they miss eachother. Eddie called him, no prompting needed, and when Steve answered he said: “Stevie, baby, oh my god I missed you— hey fuckin, Jeff!! Look at my boyfriend, how hot is he? I got a cute ass boyfriend, wow, I feel so much better now I get to talk to you again. How are you, sweetheart? I hope you’re okay.”
Steve’s heart fucking bloomed. He feels nauseous he’s so fucking in love.
“What are you doing, Ed’s? You keep looking away from me.”
“I know, a total crime, don’t hate me. I’d much rather look at you, baby— hey shut up, Jeff, let me be in love!” Eddie yelled, tossing a pen at his bandmate across the room, “Sorry, Stevie. Uh, I’m doing some research for some songs I’m writing, making sure I’m not gonna fucking accidentally steal someone’s copyrighted track. Boring stuff, legal stuff, what are you doing?”
“Not much, missing you.”
Eddie chuckles, “God, I miss you too. Want me to come over when I get home? I’d invite you to mine, but these guys always get grouchy after a long drive home and our unit would probably just depress you.”
“Yeah, please.” Steve smiled sweetly, picking at his dinner. They fall into silence for a while, Eddie deep in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out over his top lip as he types away on his laptop.
Steve’s got this question gnawing at him. One of those dumb fucking questions that he shouldn’t ask, because it’s stupid. The kind of question that if he asks too many of them, his parter will get pissed off and leave, or yell at him to stop. He’s already asked Eddie one weird question, but it wasn’t even that weird, it still got a strange reaction from Eddie though. Steve didn’t take it as a good one.
Fuck, he can’t help it though, it just starts coming out of his mouth before he can really stop it, “Hey, uh, Eddie…?”
“Yah, light of my life?” He laughs to himself, isn’t looking at the camera so he can’t see Steve begin to blush, thankfully.
“If you became a rich and famous rockstar, would you leave me behind? Be honest.” Steve nodded, “I can take it-“
“Of course not, Stevie.” Eddie said, still looking at his laptop screen, it seems like he barely even thinks about the answer, “Why would I do that?”
“If you were famous, you’d have other options.”
“Yeah, but I have you. Would you leave me, if you got famous?”
“No.” Steve snickers, like it’s obvious. Because it is, because Steve’s attached to Eddie, obviously, Steve loves Eddie more than Eddie loves Steve, probably.
“See, so why would I?” Eddie says simply, a small smile on his face as he looks at Steve like he’s being goofy and weird.
Steve should just shut his mouth before Eddie starts to hate him, but he just can’t, “Well, there are better options for famous people.”
“Not for me.” Eddie says simply, and it kills Steve, genuinely, a fucking stake through the heart in the best kind of way.
“What if you were on a red carpet, and… uh… oh, what if Hugh Jackman hit on you? Would you chose him over me?”
Eddie laughed, “Look, Hugh is hot, but he’s not as hot as you. Have you seen your ass, Stevie?”
Steve flustered, “We- Uh, what about like, Dave from Foo Fighters? He’s really hot.”
“Not my type at all, besides he’s a cheater so ew.”
“Okay…” Steve wonders, “Megan Fox?”
“Gorgeous! But I don’t swing that way.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Steve sighed, “Oh, you really like Robert Irwin, right?”
Eddie laughed, looked over at Steve on his phone and smiled sweetly, rubbed a hand over his mouth, “Yeah, I like him, he’s cute. Wanna know why?”
Suddenly, Steve feels very jealous. It must show on his face too because Eddie snickers at him, “Uh, why?”
“Because he reminds me of you, dork.”
“What? How?” Steve is baffled.
“He’s cute, I like your little blonde highlights and he’s blonde. And he’s fit like you I guess. But mostly because he’s like, just a good looking chill out dude until you hear him talk, then you realise he’s a huge massive super ultra dork and you can’t help but want to know more about him.” Eddie smiled, turned back to his laptop and Steve watched him scroll through a document through the reflection of his glasses, “If Robert Irwin ever hit on me I’d be flattered as fuck. But I’d kindly reject him, and tell him I’ve got my own dork at home who prepared me for such a moment, by asking stupid questions like would you ever leave me— no Steve. I wouldn’t. Duh. You’re too good of a kisser.”
Steve laughed, let himself feel flustered for a while. Satisfied that he let himself be just the right amount of clingy to let Eddie know that he’s kinda like that, but not too clingy that he scared Eddie away.
“Would you take me with you then? When you’re rich and famous?”
“Oh, you know it baby.” Eddie grinned, “When I’m making millions, you’re quitting your goddamned job and travelling the world with me, and I’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be your full time sugar daddy no doubts about it, gorgeous.”
Steve loves this guy so much. “Yeah, sure, you can be my sugar daddy the day you figure out how to ask me how to touch your dick without stuttering and blushing and hiding in my neck about it.”
Eddie stuttered, clearly caught off guard as he began to choke on air. Steve could hear his friends in the room around Eddie begin to laugh and make fun of him. Steve laughed with him, because Eddie knows how Steve feels about that, he knows that Steve likes how shy Eddie got in bed.
Steve thinks it’s incredibly hot, a guy so confident and out there reduced to a stuttering mess the second he gets a “hot” guy in bed, as Eddie said.
Eddie’s friends begin to heckle and tease him for a bit, and Steve listens in silence as his boyfriend fights with the lot of them.
“Hey, Eddie?” Steve asks, once they’re calmed down and quiet again.
Eddie sighs, rolls his head away from his laptop and over to look at Steve, Steve hates this. Eddie smiles anyway, even though Steve is sure he’s faking it now, and says, “Yes, my love?”
He wants to take it back. He wants to shut his mouth.
“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head.
“No, my love. Ask me, go on. It was a follow up question to the whole fame thing, right?” Eddie shrugged, “I only sighed because you should know that how I feel isn’t something so easily raptured by a mere celebrity.”
“Oh…” Steve nodded, thought about that for a moment. Wondered if anyone else in his situation would have known that, maybe he’s just insecure, too insecure, Eddie’s bound to get annoyed by it. It seems like he already is. “I was just going to ask if you’d ever write a song about me?”
Eddie smiles, blushes, and it’s so sweet, “I already have, Stevie. Three.” He looks back at his laptop, groans and Steve sees in his glasses reflection that Eddie closes all the tabs he’s looking at in anger, “Yah, you’re so easy to write love songs about to be completely honest. But no, I’m not telling you anything about them. You’ll hear when they’re ready.”
Steve is over the moon, “Okay.”
Silence again. He watches Eddie open up a new application, Steve recognises as his music app thing. He makes demos and back tracks with it, which is cool. Eddie begins to play around with if a bit, and Steve listens to the noise and wonders what song Eddie’s trying to create.
He’s got that urge again. God, he’s so clingy. Steve can’t stand how clingy he is, no one can. It’s only a matter of time before Eddie’s telling him he’s too clingy and walking out the door.
He really can’t help himself. Maybe he’s just self destructive.
“Eddie, would you tell the world I was your boyfriend, if you get famous?”
“Yup.” Eddie nodded, “But they’d only know your name, and your face, and how much I love you. Don’t want you getting stalked by weirdos— you know, if I get famous enough that people want to stalk my boyfriend.”
Steve thinks that’s really sweet of him, especially since he had that rolling off the top of his tongue, no thinking time needed.
“Well… would you take me to all your A lister parties and events?”
“If there’s no plus one option, I’m not going sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you sitting at home, worried.”
“What would you do if a celebrity like… hmm, Eddie Van Halen hit on me?”
Eddie grinned, “Then I’d say you’re seeing ghosts, sunshine.”
“If he were alive, though?”
“Then… I’d think it’s awesome that we have something in common, you’re our type— oh! And then you’d get to say you were hit on by two guys named Eddie who played guitar super good.”
Steve laughed, “Would you introduce me to Sabrina Carpenter?”
“It would be the first thing I’d do.”
“Would you get jealous if she hit on me?”
“Oh yeah.” Eddie nodded, “I’m gay as fuck and I’d still take her out on a date, you know, she’s pretty. She’s like, the girl version of you. Anyway I’d be super jealous and heartbroken but I’d tell you to take your chance.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” He assured, “You will be hearing from me, I’ll be that crazy ex just waiting for you two to break up. I’d sabotage so bad, but I’d just want you to be happy. But I would hate if that was without me.”
Steve smiled, “Imagine if we were animals? Would you still fall in love with me if we were both little otters or something?”
“Yup, I’d be head otter heals for you.”
Steve laughed, “Dude, you’re so lame.”
“Don’t call me dude whist asking these clingy ass questions.” Eddie snickered out, and Steve shut up.
He swallowed. Stared hard at the camera and tried to surpress his sudden urge to cry.
“You get so fucking clingy sometimes.” Eddie muttered, quiet enough that his friends couldn’t hear him, “I genuinely didn’t think someone could get this clingy.”
Steve hates him.
He’s about to shut off the call when he sees something flash in Eddie’s glasses, squints to get a better look at whatever is on Eddie’s screen.
“Hey, uh, forgot to mention my uncle had this watch he thought you might like— cause I got one, but you don’t wear silver do you?”
“Nope, never.” Steve shook his head, bile rising in his throat, he can’t figure out what’s taken up all of Eddie’s attention, “Tell him thanks though.”
“Got it.” Eddie muttered to himself, pressed enter on his keyboard, and a webpage popped up with large images of golden band rings.
“What are you doing?” Steve wonders quietly.
“Huh? Oh, just mixing some music still, like I was before. Just trying to think up what I should do next.”
Steve is not that stupid. He knows Eddie’s lying. He’s lying so hard right now.
Eddie grabs his phone, pulls it close to his face so Steve can only see from his nose up, and he begins tapping away at his screen.
“Sorry, I’ll put you down in a sec, cutie, just checking something.”
With this closer angle, Steve can see very clearly what Eddie’s checking on his phone. He’s checking his bank account.
He’s checking his bank account, looking back at the web page of rings on his laptop, then pondering something in his head.
“Everything okay, Eddie?”
“Yup, just thinking up some lyric changes. Got them all written in my phone, I’ll put you down now.”
He’s such a liar, Steve’s just confused. And hurt.
“Why are you so quiet?” Eddie wondered, his phone back down on the table like it was before, eyes back on his laptop as he scrolls through rings, “Are you okay?”
“Yep.” Steve nodded.
Eddie sighed, “Hey, would you still love me if we were animals? You never answered back.” Eddie said, “What if I was an otter and you were a little fishy?”
Steve hesitates, “You’d probably eat me.”
“I’d eat you right now, Steve.” Eddie said flatly, then he ducked his head and whispered, “I miss the taste of you. I love kissing you- Hey, can I suck your dick sometime? Been thinkin’ about it.”
“Oh, now you’re brave enough to ask whilst you’re a million miles away and not even looking at me?”
“Yup.” Eddie snickered, froze for a moment with his brows furrowed, clicked on a ring and zoomed in on it, glanced between his laptop and Steve a few times. “Uh, sorry, what were we talking about?”
Steve can see the description of the ring he’s looking at. He can see, clear as day, the description reads (backwards): “Solar - Gold embossed engagement ring.”
Steve can’t believe this. Eddies looking at engagement rings. Is he looking at engagement rings?
“How much do you love me?” Steve asked, a vomit of words.
Eddie smiled, hung his head like he’s all embarrassed about it, “A lot, Stevie baby. A lot.” Eddie chuckled, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself. Not to be poetic or anything, but my life was a dark, empty night sky before I met you, and then suddenly my life was summer sun, gorgeous. You’re my sunshine, right?”
“Right.” Steve nodded, “I love when you call me that.” He squints at the reflection in Eddie’s glasses and can make out the pattern of the sun embossed on the ring.
“God, I miss you.” Eddie sighs, adds the ring to his shopping cart and keeps scrolling.
Jeff walks behind Eddie on his way out of the kitchen and stops in his tracks, walks over.
“Just working on that song, look good?” Eddie asks, and Jeff leans down on his shoulder, “I think if I add this in, this take could be the one. What do you think? Or do you think I’m being too stupid? Is it too soon for that big moment?”
Oh, fuck, he’s really looking at engagement rings.
Jeff smiles, squeezes Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly, “I mean, yeah, in theory. But you’ve never done anything by the book, and all your best choices have been a little crazy like that. If you feel it’s the right choice, and will work well with the music, then yeah, by all means.”
Eddie gins, looks back at Steve, “Yeah, it’s definitely the right choice.”
Jeff snickers, wonders off shaking his head, and Eddie looks so giddy as he takes one last look at the ring.
Eddie’s thinking about proposing to Steve.
“Don’t you think I’m clingy?” Steve blurted out, catching Eddie completely off guard.
Eddie glanced at him, sighed, carefully shut his laptop and set his attention on Steve, “Well, yeah? You are clingy.” Eddie shrugged, “Dude, you don’t understand how lucky I feel, I think. I like that. I mean, you love me so much that you wanna cling to me like a fucking koala. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten bored of me yet.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, Steve feels so warm and fuzzy inside.
“I love you so much.” He mumbles, brings the phone close to his face to virtually kiss Eddie, “Do you want to move in with me?”
“What?” Eddie stuttered out, “Uh, are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious in this conversation and also about this relationship. About you.”
“Fuck.” Eddie sighed, laughed a little delirious, “Yeah, yes, I do. I’d love that, sunshine.”
“When you get back then. Just… just come over and don’t leave.” Steve nodded, “We can talk more then, about us, and everything. I just want you around me always.”
“God, Stevie, you don’t know how much I feel that in my heart.” Eddie said, two hands pressed over his heart to swoon a little.
Steve doesn’t tell him that he knows of Eddie’s plans, and five months later, when the special day comes, Steve doesn’t tell him that he’s already seen the ring. Though, he does mention it in his vowels, tells everyone watching just how much harder that evening made Steve fall in love with Eddie. That he couldn’t believe someone was falling so hard, so fast, just as he was.
Steve never doubted another relationship again, purely because his only relationship from then on was with Eddie.
He’d never felt as secure as he does with Eddie, since that night, never second guessed his intentions, never doubted their love.
They’re mutually head otter heals for each other. Robin was right, Eddie is the one.
Steddie | modern au | famous actor Steve Harrington | 3.4k | ao3
from this post
Eddie can’t stop the laugh that comes out of him because of the video on his screen, Gareth snickering next to him.
“This is great, I have to show this to the others later,” Eddie says. His fingers move automatically, pressing on the send icon and then on the profile at the very top, a move he has done hundreds of times.
“Dude, did you just send that to Steve Harrington?” Gareth asks with a dumbfounded tone.
“Yeah?”
“Why are you acting like that’s normal?”
“Because it is? I just send him the posts I find funny to find them later.”
“You know there is a way to save posts so that they are organized, right?”
“I don’t like it and this is like way easier.”
“It’s literally not,” Gareth says, but Eddie doesn’t pay attention to him or stop.
“Look,” he goes to the front page, slides to the dms and opens the conversation with Steve Harrington, always at the top. “It’s just right there.” He starts scrolling up to show him the long string of unanswered memes and videos, but Gareth interrupts him.
“Wait, wait. Scroll back down, what the fuck is that? Does he read your messages?” He is pointing to the little icon with Harrington’s profile picture just above the last video he’s sent. Eddie shrugs.
“It’s probably a bored media guy enjoying some memes on the clock or making sure I’m not a weirdo, it’s not like Steve Harrington actually uses this account.”
“You are a weirdo, I’m surprised you are not blocked yet.”
-
Eddie is on his phone, passing the time as he keeps an eye on the lonely customer currently looking through the new vinyls. It’s a routine, a mindless action as he saves another post to show the guys later, preferring to see their reactions in person. Nothing ever happens, that’s why he gets surprised to the point of sitting up when a notification appears on his screen.
Steve.hrrgtn: Dude, you just made me laugh in the middle of a table reading
Eddie freezes as the notification disappears. Did he see that right? He couldn’t have seen that right.
He goes to his dms and surely, there at the top, is a message from THE Steve Harrington, or at least from his account. A table reading. It has to be him, right? Not an intern or a media guy. The one and only.
Eddie sends a look to the customer, still engrossed in the new releases. He is tempted to call her so she can check if the message is real or an hallucination provoked by his boredom. When he looks down, the message is still there. It is also still there when he opens the conversation. His fingers hover over screen.
He can picture him, sitting around a long table with his castmates, hiding his phone like a student in class but unable to keep his laugh in.
The vision is a bit surreal. He made Steve Harrington laugh.
Batking: why are you looking at your phone in the middle of a table reading
Steve.hrrgtn: new season boring af
It’s Eddie the one that can’t keep his laugh in this time. The girl sends him a look, but he doesn’t care.
Batking: should you be telling me that?
Steve.hrrgtn: I don’t even care at this point tbh
Batking: you are the one that signed the contract my guy
Steve.hrrgtn: I didn’t
Steve.hrrgtn: Never let your parents sign you into a multi season show when you are fifteen
Batking: I’ll keep that in mind for my next life
Batking: Sorry your parents made you a millionaire and famous
Steve.hrrgtn: 💀💀💀
Steve.hrrgtn: but really, at the time I thought hey it’s only a contract for five seasons for a teen drama, how bad could it be?
Steve.hrrgtn: now here I am, almost ten years later, listening to the worst script you have heard in your life
Batking: that does sound awful
Batking: you are making me happy that my folks are not in the picture
Is Eddie about to vent about his life to Steve fucking Harrington? It seems like it.
In the end, he doesn’t, because Harrington doesn’t answer to his message, probably swept away into actually working, or maybe he realised how weird it was that he was talking so casually to a guy he didn’t know.
Eddie doesn’t have time to wallow on it too much, because the girl comes to the counter with a vinyl and a question. The interaction with the famous actor moving to a part of Eddie’s brain normally reserved to daydreams.
-
Eddie thought that his interaction with Steve Harrington would be a one time thing, the guy looking at his phone because he was too bored and answering his message because, by some kind of cosmic coincidence, Eddie had happened to send it at the perfect moment. Just an impulsive action that he had regretted later. That’s why he is surprised when he gets a new notification after sending him the worst kind of shitpost ever, the ones that the algorithm feeds him at 2am – the current time – and send him in a fit of giggles with their complete absurdity.
Steve.hrrgtn: where do you even find these things
Batking: you are just jealous my algorithm is better than yours
Steve.hrrgtn: yeah everyday I dream about my instagram showing me a pig made with a sausage and sticks surfing some rotating meat skewers
Batking: It made you laugh though
Steve.hrrgtn: …..
Steve.hrrgtn: It did
Eddie lets out a short, disbelieving snort. It’s a bit crazy, knowing that somewhere out there a famous heartthrob is looking at his messages at 2am and laughing.
Unless this is the media guy.
Eddie prefers to believe that he is so funny he made a guy with millions of followers want to talk to him. Twice.
Batking: why are you awake at this hour anyway
Batking: shouldnt you be getting your beauty sleep
Steve.hrrgtn: we start filming the new season tomorrow
Steve.hrrgtn: today?
Steve.hrrgtn: and I can’t sleep
Batking: nightmares about the boring script
Batking: I see
Steve.hrrgtn: you could say that
Batking: well, check this out, your nightmares will go away
He sends another stupid meme (of the best kind, the ones from accounts that write in Cyrillic) and receives a set of skull emojis in answer.
-
Steve.hrrgtn: why have you stopped sending me memes
The message takes Eddie by surprise. It’s been a week since he texted with Steve Harrington for the second time – which still feels a bit surreal-, and he had decided to stop bothering the poor guy now that he knew he saw his messages. Going to his saved posts was still a nightmare, but Eddie knew how to behave.
Batking: didnt want to bother you now that you are working and I know you see them
Steve.hrrgtn: they have been my main entertainment for months you can’t just stop now when I need them most
Eddie blinks at the message. Months? The confirmation stuns him. The one that had been seeing his messages had always been him and not some media guy? Eddie remembers catching his name a few times on his Instagram stories. This is a bit trippy, if he is honest.
Batking: okay
Batking: as my liege commands
Batking: from now on I am your knight in shining armour your sole provider of memes
-
Batking: *reel attached*
Batking: did you kill the villain today?
Steve.hrrgtn: This is a teen drama???
-
Batking: *reel attached*
Batking: so, is the bad guy dead yet?
Steve.hrrgtn: Again???
Steve.hrrgtn: I told you like a thousand times that there is no bad guy to kill
Steve.hrrgtn: have you even watched my show?
Batking: I mean the scriptwriter
Steve.hrrgtn: lmao
Steve.hrrgtn: no, he is sadly not dead yet
Steve.hrrgtn: I think killing him would be a breach of my contract somehow
Batking: a pity
Batking: the way he insists on making your character straight? He deserves death.
Batking: don’t worry joe from normal life, I saw the way you looked at dacre, I know what you are
Steve.hrrgtn: I think that might have just been the way I was looking at Billy, the guy’s fucking hot
Steve.hrrgtn: an asshole though, glad he is not on the show anymore
Eddie pauses, his eyes reading the last two messages time and time again. Did Steve Harrington, heartthrob and ladies man, just admit to being attracted to a male coworker? Eddie’s thumbs hover over the keyboard. He looks up at Gareth from his place in their couch. He is not paying attention to him, too focused on his laptop.
Eddie is having a bit of a crisis here and his roommate is ignoring him. Maybe it’s best that he is, Eddie doesn’t really want to share this with anyone. Should he bring attention to it? Should he just ignore it and brush it off? The decision is not that difficult in the end. He needs to know. He knows that there is no way he has any possibility of actually bagging Steve Harrington. Exchanging messages and memes is one thing, a pseudo friendship is one thing, but something more? Not fucking likely.
He still needs to know.
Batking: did I just get exclusive confirmation that Steve Harrington likes men? Should I call tmz?
Steve.hrrgtn: you wouldn’t get any money
Steve.hrrgtn: I’ve been out as bisexual for years, the media just chooses to ignore it
Steve.hrrgtn: wow look at these pictures of Steve Harrington with his new male best friend that he goes to dinner and all premieres with! Totally platonic! Oh now they have stopped hanging out completely? What could have happened to their friendship?
Steve.hrrgtn: he cheated on me, that’s what happened
Eddie blinks at his screen. So, he had tried to avoid learning anything about Steve that the man didn’t tell him himself. Just a chivalrous, treat the guy like a normal person gesture, but now he is wondering if he should have paid a bit more attention.
Batking: ah yes, the joys of compulsory heterosexuality and conformity
Batking: that sucks, dude
Steve.hrrgtn: did you really not know anything about it?
Batking: sorry to burst your celebrity bubble where everyone knows everything about your life
Steve.hrrgtn: no no, it’s… nice
Steve.hrrgtn: I have a question though
Steve.hrrgtn: why did you start sending me memes if you were not really interested in me?
Batking: well
Batking: I needed someone very famous that wasnt likely to really see my messages and seemed chill enough to not block me immediately
Batking: and dude, you are like waaay more famous than the show you are in, it’s ridiculous, thought you must be a douche for a long time
Batking: but an interview with you and your friend Robin showed up on my fyp and I saw that you were pretty chill
Batking: so it was between you and Timothee Chalamet
Batking: and it ended up being you because you are hotter
Steve.hrrgtn: of course I am
Steve.hrrgtn: thank you for choosing me tho
Batking: anyone would have
Steve.hrrgtn: the casting director of a complete unknown didn’t think the same
Batking: well thats THEIR loss
Batking: you do a great job with the shitty script of normal life
Batking: you would have acted the fuck out of bob dylan
Steve.hrrgtn: I do a better job in my other stuff
Batking: you have other stuff??
Batking: I’m going to be honest with you here, I only watched normal life so I had context to bitch about the boring new season with you
Eddie looks at the three little dots that indicate that Steve is writing appear a disappear a few times. Did he fuck up? Maybe he sounded too eager, maybe Steve thought it was a bit weird that Eddie assumed they would continue talking. But they have been talking for weeks now. Was it bad to assume?
Eddie closes the app, deciding to give the guy some privacy to write down what he wants to write down and heads to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. If Gareth senses the way his mood has soured, he doesn’t say anything about it.
It takes a couple of hours for an answer to appear. It’s simple.
Steve.hrrgtn: that’s nice of you
-
It’s Steve the one that starts the conversation a couple of days after that. Eddie only sees his messages an hour after he sends them, too busy with customers. The group of notifications on his screen when he is finally able to look at his phone very welcome.
Steve.hrrgtn: so I just realised
Steve.hrrgtn: well, my best friend made me realise
Steve.hrrgtn: she basically said that it’s weird that I’ve been talking with you for weeks and don’t know anything about your actual life and that you could actually be a stalker with a lot of patience or something like that
Steve.hrrgtn: so tell me about yourself? You are not living like down the street from me and waiting for the right moment to kidnap me like Robin says are you?
Eddie tries not to feel giddy at the thought of Steve talking about him to his friends. He has not done it himself, mostly because he tried once and they made fun of his ‘delusions’ as they called it. Whatever. He doesn’t really expect Steve to still be online, probably already swept out to his own job, so he just sends his answer.
Batking: a very reasonable fear, some facts to follow
Batking: I live as far from you as you live from Chicago
Batking: I am a humble employee at a record store where I have to deal with pretentious assholes daily that don’t really care about music and just about bragging about their record collection
Batking: I also have a band with my friends
Batking: we have a whooping 1756 listeners on spotify
Batking: I know, I know, you didn’t know you were talking with a rockstar try not to be very starstruck
The answer, to his surprise, comes almost immediately.
Steve.hrrgtn: 1757
Batking: what?
Steve.hrrgtn: what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t listen to your band now that I know it exists?
Eddie would be lying if he said that that didn’t make his heart skip a beat. Is this healthy? Probably not. Is he developing a weird parasocial relationship with the guy? Probably yes, but is it even a parasocial relationship if he is actually talking with the guy and he called him his friend? This should be considered a normal crush, a normal, hopeless crush.
Batking: a very shitty one tbh here’s the link
Steve.hrrgtn: can I ask something else?
Batking: course
Steve.hrrgtn: you only have one pic in your profile and it’s with your friends
Steve.hrrgtn: which one are you?
Eddie taps the back of his phone a few times. It’s only natural that Steve would wonder that. He could just tell him, or… Eddie opens the camera and takes a picture, too close to see his face properly but enough that Steve will know who he is in the group picture now.
Batking: *picture attached*
Batking: this one
Steve.hrrgtn: fuck
-
Steve.hrrgtn: okay so the thought of you only seeing me in normal life is eating me alive
The notification comes when Eddie is with his friends, preparing for a night of DnD. Eddie was looking up some music to get the atmosphere going, but the music app immediately gets abandoned in lieu of the message.
Batking: can’t get me out of your head?
He knows he has been unable to keep the stupid smile out of his face when Jeff tries to glance at his screen. Eddie immediately slams the phone against his chest.
“Jeez, I thought you were looking at stupid memes again, who are you texting that got you smiling like that?” Jeff asks. He moves back to sit straight, so Eddie can look at his phone again.
“No one,” he says as he reads the new message.
Steve.hrrgtn: so I have a couple of indie films that are very good
So Steve has decided to ignore his message. Okay.
“He’s been like this for WEEKS now,” Gareth intervenes as he sits down at his spot. “He said it was Steve Harrington when I asked him when he started and has refused to say anything else.”
“The white boy of the month?” Jeff asks.
“White boy of the century,” Eddie feels the need to correct.
Batking: that’s great and all but I can’t watch your limited release indie films anywhere
Steve.hrrgtn: that’s why I’m sharing a link to the latest one with you
Steve.hrrgtn: don’t share it with anyone though
Batking: aw breaking the rules for little ol me?
Steve.hrrgtn: yeah yeah don’t get too cocky now
Steve.hrrgtn: can’t wait for your reaction 😉
Eddie stares at the winking emoji in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?
“Can you stop texting your white boy of the century now so we can start?” Gareth asks.
“Just a second.” Eddie sends a quick message back before he moves to the music app again, chooses the first song he sees and puts the phone down.
Batking: send it to me, soldier, I will watch it tonight and give you my honest opinion
-
Eddie stares at the screen of his laptop, currently on his thighs as he was lounging on his bed, seeing the film Steve had sent to him. The film is currently paused, Steve’s face staring at him with eyes and mouth half open.
Okay, so Eddie just watched his famous guy turned friend have an orgasm – fake! Fake an orgasm, Eddie feels it’s very important that he makes that clear to himself – on screen after probably the most erotic sex scene he has seen in a non porno in the last 10 years. Fuck. How did he not know about the existence of this? How did this not make the news? Probably because it was with another man. Double fuck.
Maybe this is normal for Steve, for actors in general, to send their friends a link to a film where you have a soul shattering orgasm with a message about wanting to know their reaction with a winking emoji. It is not normal for Eddie. It is also not normal for his dick, who has not gotten the memo about this not being something it should be getting so excited about.
Eddie bites his lip. His finger moves on its own, backing the film a few minutes so the scene plays again. Eddie tries to convince himself that this is not weird if Steve was the one that wanted him to see this in the first place.
Eddie curses and takes a deep breath. He eyes his phone. It’s late, nearly midnight, but he knows that Steve is normally away at this hour.
Maybe this is not normal for Steve either, maybe he did want to get some kind of reaction out of Eddie.
Eddie snaps a picture of his laptop screen, careful to get the tent in his pants just in the edge of the picture. It’s very obvious on it what scene he is watching.
Batking: *picture attached*
Batking: you sure know how to get a guy hot and bothered
Maybe he can play it off as a joke if Steve didn’t mean it like Eddie wants him to mean it.
Steve.hrrgtn: glad to see my acting is that good
Fuck, Eddie fucked it up, right?
Steve.hrrgtn: it did come out very natural
Steve.hrrgtn: but the real thing looks better
Eddie feels on the edge of a precipice, as if there should be a warning on his field of vision about how his choice here will change the trajectory of his story.
Batking: can’t say
Batking: I haven’t seen the real thing, so I can’t really compare them, can I?
Steve.hrrgtn: would you want to?
Eddie can’t get his hopes up, he can’t assume, Steve is so out of his league, this can’t be happening to him.
Batking: have you acted in a porno I don’t know about?
Steve.hrrgtn: are you always this dense?
Eddie’s heart is dying in his chest, that’s the only explanation to how it’s feeling.
He doesn’t have time to type an answer, Eddie’s screen is suddenly filled with something else.
Steve Harrington is video calling him.
Eddie has never accepted a call so fast in his life before.
part 2...???
tag list: @steddiefication @tailsfromthecrypt @orionchildofhades @coralineinwonderland @theohohmoment (you didn't ask me to tag you but I guessed you'd want to see it?)
I’m looking for a fic that I believe is on ao3 - Eddie is kidnapped in a lab (there’s a world where the party doesn’t even know he survived? I think?) and Steve gets kidnapped. Eddie is an alpha and he’s feral and Steve (also an alpha) lets Eddie mount him to keep Eddie from hurting himself or anyone else. They escape eventually but have to deal with the fact that Steve has been bitched and they are bonded now.
Request 1420! Send us an ask if you recognize this fic!
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Day #3 Prompt: Apples | Word Count: 6464 | Rating: M | POV: Eddie | CW: Language, Sex | Tags: Modern AU, Meet Cute, Apple Picking, Bakery Owner Steve, Sports Guy Steve, Smitten Eddie Munson, Platonic Stobin, Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson
Also right here on ao3.
"Oh shit, oh fuck," Eddie says as the apple tumbles out of his grasp. He looks down in horror as it falls, like a slow-motion car wreck happening right before his very eyes, as it lands directly on the guy's head that was picking below him.
To add insult to injury, it hits with a very audible thunk.
Shit, he shouldn't even be allowed on a ladder. That's like the first rule of the universe or some shit. Who signed off on this? Honestly.
"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Eddie asks, coming down the ladder, watching as the guy, the very pretty guy, rubs at the top of his head, only slightly worried he's about to get his ass kicked in a goddamn apple orchard.
But the guy is laughing.
He's laughing, and gorgeous, and Eddie can't help but smile.
"Goddamn you, Newton!" Eddie shouts, dramatically shaking his fist in the air, eyes trained on the sky, as if he had nothing at all to do with this, and that gravity alone was solely to blame.
"Gravity always wins," the guy says, then adds, "I'm good, honest, you just startled me. I never thought concussion number four would be at the hands of an apple. But here we are."
Eddie feels his face fall.
"Oh, oh no, I'm kidding. I was just teasing you. I'm fine. Look? It was just a little apple," he says, leaning over to pick up the offending piece of fruit.
Eddie eyes it in his palm, "That's definitely gonna have a bruise."
"Like my head," he teases, and Eddie reaches out and pops him on the shoulder, making him pull back, giggling. His sweater is soft under Eddie's hand, and Eddie wants to reach out and stroke it again, but stops himself. Content to just stare a second.
He's truly something to look at. Goddamn.
Eddie just smiles at him, and when he straightens back up, he hands the apple back.
It is a little apple, and Eddie probably shouldn't have picked it in the first place, but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. He saw an apple, and picked it.
Looking at the bushel this guy has selected, though, gives him pause. They are evenly sized, and brightly colored. No blemishes at all. Perfect apples, for the perfect guy.
Eddie's are a little misshapen and odd. The freaks, if you will, but he thinks that's pretty damn fitting.
"Guess you'll have to make applesauce–" the guy starts, and then stops, clearly searching for Eddie's name.
"Eddie," Eddie offers.
"Eddie," he repeats. "I'm Steve."
"Well, Steve, I would make some applesauce if I knew how," Eddie laughs.
"You could always come by my bakery slash coffee shop," Steve offers, sort of shaking the basket slung over his arm, "That's why I'm picking apples today. So I can make some seasonal items with local apples. Customers eat that shit up."
Eddie thinks he's being picked up. Maybe. Or not. He's never very good at getting those signals right. Gareth says he's hopeless, and sometimes that feels more accurate than he'd like to admit.
Like, right now. Is Steve hitting on him, or trying to drum up business?
Eddie decides he honestly doesn't exactly care which it is, "Sure, I'd love to be the guinea pig for your apple pie."
"Well," Steve says, lowering his voice in a way that makes Eddie feel funny in a good way, "I never said pie."
"Oh, well, in that case…" Eddie teases, trailing off, acting as if he's going to walk away.
But, Steve just laughs at him, and digs in his wallet, producing a little business card: Harrington's. Since 1955.
"My, you look awfully good for your age," Eddie says.
Steve laughs, "My grandma and grandpa ran it before me. And they didn't think they'd have anyone to take over the family business when they retired. And then I turned up, with nothing better to do."
Eddie nods. He's definitely going to stop by Steve's family business, not even for the not-pie, but just so he can see more of this guy, "Well, in that case. When should I show up?"
"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" Steve suggests, and Eddie is nodding along. Tomorrow after three sounds perfect to him.
Eddie pulls up in the alley behind the back of the bakery, as directed, and can't really believe he's here. Like, what does he know about baking? He can't even bake a box of brownies without messing them up somehow.
But, Steve is gorgeous, and this isn't an invite he's about to turn down. He's a fool, but he's no dummy. Eddie pushes on the back door, and it's heavy, but slowly glides open.
"Knock, knock," Eddie says, and then hears a commotion. Lots of yelling. Like a fight is happening.
His fight or flight starts to kick in, and flight will always win for him, but…he pauses.
He knows that kind of yelling from Uncle Wayne, and as far as a fight goes, it's surely a one-sided one, because Steve's staring up at the mounted television over on the wall, screaming at the refs of a football game, as he stands inside an industrial kitchen, at a stainless steel prep table, peeling apples.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Steve the Baker is also Steve the Sports Guy? That wasn't advertised on the label at all.
Eddie's been hoodwinked. The wool pulled straight over his eyes. Was bamboozled by a pretty face in a warm-looking sweater, right there in a goddamn apple orchard.
He's starting to plan his escape, when Steve turns to look at him, and smiles, waving his paring knife in the air, "Hey! You made it!"
"Hey," Eddie says back, shucking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. Steve sounds excited to see him, and maybe the game is almost over. He could deal with it for a few minutes. Steve was very pretty in that sweater.
He squints at the screen, and the score is 0-0 and it's still the first quarter. He doesn't know a lot about sports, but he grew up with Wayne. He at least understands that this means the damn thing has just started.
"You care if I leave the game on?" Steve asks, flashing him those warm eyes, and Eddie finds himself nodding along with that idea, like a damn idiot. No, he doesn't want to watch sports, but…that face.
That face will make him break his most solemn of vows: no sports. He just won't tell Wayne or Gareth. He'll gloss right over that part, and nobody will ever have to know that he spent the whole afternoon with football blaring in the background of his maybe date.
Because, as good looking as this guy is, and as much as Eddie would like to eat this guy, and his baked goods, alive, he's sure this isn't going to go any further than this afternoon. It can't. What would they talk about? Baking and football? Eddie doesn't know anything about either of those topics. But he can surely bumble through one afternoon. That'll be fine. Eddie can do anything for one afternoon. All the odd jobs he's ever held has proven that.
Hell, if he plays his cards right, maybe he can get one night out of it, too.
But long-term? He can already see the writing on the wall, and it bums him out, just a little bit. He hadn't been this excited about a guy in a while.
Steve hands Eddie a peeler, and Eddie goes to work, peeling the whole bushel of apples that Steve has washed and laid out on a towel. He does know how to work a peeler, at least. That was his job for potatoes at Wayne's, when he was far too little to do anything else.
"So, tell me about yourself. Do you always assault men with apples?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks over at him and smiles.
"Only the cute ones," Eddie flirts, and loves the blush that stains Steve's cheeks as he looks back down at the apples he's evenly slicing.
"No offense, but you don't seem like the apple picking type," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. He's not wrong. "What brought you out there, especially all by yourself?"
"It's part of my contract. Free apples from the orchard and free pumpkins from the patch," Eddie says, then realizes that doesn't explain anything at all, adding, "I work nights at the haunted hayride. As a scare actor," Eddie says, then holds his hands up like a zombie.
Steve's eyes are big, and it's awfully cute as he laughs.
"So, free apples. I mean, how many apples or pumpkins can one man eat? But free is free."
"Maybe I'll teach you how to bake something using them," Steve suggests and Eddie nods. He'd like that. A lot, he thinks. Even if that's all he gets out of the day.
"Deal. So, what's on the menu for today?"
Steve grins, "Apple fritters. Cupcakes. There's this apple maple upside down cake I want to try. A cobbler. Someone suggested an apple pie."
"They sound smart," Eddie banters, and Steve just keeps smiling.
"Have you ever made a dessert pizza?" Eddie asks, meeting Steve's eyes.
"Like from Pizza Hut?" Steve questions, and Eddie nods.
"No, but we totally can. I've never thought to try to make it myself."
Eddie smiles at the thought. He imagines homemade would be even better than what used to be on the buffet at Pizza Hut when he was younger.
Steve moves from slicing apples to dicing them very small and fine. In perfect little squares that are very impressive to Eddie's eyes. He can barely cut anything evenly, so that seems like quite the feat.
Eddie watches as Steve goes between watching the knife in his hands so he doesn't cut his fingers off, and the ballgame.
"You should come to the hayride," Eddie blurts out.
Steve smiles, "I don't really do scary things, or anything that risks a head injury these days."
It's just a trailer pulled around the grounds, nobody touches anybody. Couldn't if they wanted to, but if he doesn't like scary, he doesn't like scary. Then he remembers something Steve had joked about in the orchard after Eddie had beaned him with that apple.
"Have you really already had three concussions?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah," Steve answers, "at least three that I know about. But not from falling apples. I'm fine. I promise."
"How'd you get them?" Eddie asks, because he isn't sure how one gets that many concussions unless they've been abused, and his stomach drops. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe it's none of his goddamn business. Maybe-
"I got one from a dickhead in high school that blindsided me during a stupid fight, and then the other two from football plays in college, a couple weeks apart. One was a dirty, on purpose, helmet-to-helmet late hit, the last one was during a quarterback sneak that went wrong."
Eddie has no idea what that means.
"What's that mean?" Eddie asks.
Steve looks at him, "Not a football guy?"
Eddie shakes his head adamantly, "Not an any sports guy. Sorry."
"That's okay," Steve says, "A quarterback sneak is when you only need to move a yard or two down the field to, say, get across the goal line to score, or get a first down, and the linemen in front of you, the big guys, push forward and the quarterback tries to carry it over himself. No hand-off. No throw."
"And you were the quarterback?"
"I was. I was a little too exposed, and one of the defensive players came in and hit me helmet to helmet in the dogpile. Snapped my neck backwards."
"I'm sorry," Eddie says.
"It happens. Most of the time you go into concussion protocol, and clear it. Mine wasn't even caught immediately after it happened. Not even by me. I hopped right back up, and it wasn't until I'd thrown a few uncharacteristic picks later, that they decided something must be wrong with me and pulled me out of the game and straight into the tent. Once the migraines started a few days later, and never really stopped after all the other symptoms went away, that was the end of the line. No more football. No NFL draft."
Eddie swallows, that's fucking rough.
"They forced you to stop?" Eddie asks.
"Yes," Steve says, then must change his mind, "No. Not really. The specialists suggested it. I don't think they could have forced me to comply. Hell, they'll play you into the ground. But it would have been a risk to draft a known concussion magnet. So, it was a choice I had to make for myself, and I chose to stop, to preserve what I had left. Stop it at the occasional migraine. Of course Robin, my best friend, would have flayed me alive if I'd done anything else. She was the first to call it, and she was right."
"But you were good enough to go pro? If you hadn't taken those hits?" Eddie asks, quietly.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" Steve answers with a shrug, like he doesn't really care one way or the other, but he must care. He'd have to. Eddie knows he'd care if he couldn't play the guitar anymore, and he's never been anywhere near going professional.
"But you still watch it? Football? Even after losing the chance to play?" Eddie asks.
Steve smiles, "Hell yeah. I still love the game. Even if I can't play."
Then he points at the screen, "I'm friends with #52. In the white. We went to college together. It all worked out better for him than it did me, but I couldn't be prouder of him. A little jealous, sure. But really proud, too."
"Do you ever get to go to games in person, or is that impossible with the bakery?"
"I try to hit one a season, as that's about all the favors I can call in with my friends. Coming in at three a.m. to get shit ready is a hard sell, let me tell you," Steve laughs, "That and they don't know what they're doing. So, it's just easier to just stay here. Watch on television. Scream at the refs from home instead of the stands."
"I know all about the screaming. I live with my uncle, and he has a sport for every season, I swear it. Getting him to move to Indy with me was no small feat, let me tell you," Eddie laughs, "But he needed to retire from the plant. He still works, because he's a stubborn old man, but now he's at a local hardware store instead, bossing clueless jackasses around. His words, not mine."
Steve laughs, "He sounds great."
"He is, and of course you'd think so, you sports guys always stick together."
Steve laughs, nodding like it's true, and then they go back to work. Baking, watching the game, and cheering on Steve's friend to a close game win.
And that evening, Eddie goes home with a still warm pie, and a phone number for Steve burning a hole in his pocket.
They spend the next two weeks texting back and forth, with a few short phone calls sprinkled in for good measure, but it hasn't gone beyond that. Eddie isn't sure if Steve's just busy or uninterested in setting up a second date. He wishes he'd just tell him. They could just be friends, but Eddie would rather know that now, instead of later once he's already gotten swept away by the idea of dating him, for real.
Eddie looks at his phone as Chrissy does his makeup, "Eyes up, Munson."
Steve hasn't responded, but he's probably asleep. Eddie puts his phone on the table, "Yes, ma'am."
She laughs, and gets him ready for another night of a constant loop of visitors to the maze. They've done this for a few years now, and they're all good at it, and it's not bad seasonal work. It helps pay the bills for the band to keep trying, stay plugging along.
Eddie knows they aren't gonna make it big, not now, that window has closed. But they still make music together, good music he thinks, so taking on odd jobs to still do that has been worth it.
Maybe after thirty he'll have to settle down, but for right now? He's just having fun.
"Tell me about the boy," she sing-songs, then changes her mind, "No, keep your mouth shut until I'm done with your face."
Eddie laughs, and keeps his mouth shut, as directed.
"But tell me later, though."
And he nods. He definitely will. Gareth's sick of hearing about Steve, so if he has a fresh pair of ears to listen to him yap, he's definitely all-in on that.
It's actually gotten chilly tonight, but when the second-to-last trailer full of guests pulls around the corner at quarter to two, Eddie sees Steve sitting next to a woman that has to be Robin. She just looks exactly like what Eddie imagined every time Steve's told a story about her. And she looks very grumpy about being awake in the middle of the night.
Eddie is stoked, and rushes around from Gareth to Jeff to Goodie to Chrissy, pointing out Steve, and then hurrying back to his spot for the last trailer. They don't really care all that much. He's sure they're happy for him, but they definitely just want to finish doing their jobs and get the fuck out of here for the night.
Steve's lingering by the employees only sign when Eddie exits backstage.
"You came," Eddie says, makeup hastily scrubbed off his face. It's a big no-no to interact with the guests in character, even if it's the guy you've been playing phone tag with for the last two weeks. He wasn't sure Steve would stay, but he did, and Eddie's fucking thrilled to see him.
"This is Robin," Steve says, slinging his arm over her shoulders.
Eddie starts to say hi, when the door bangs closed behind him, and he turns to see Chrissy on her way out.
"Night, Eddie," Chrissy says, as she passes by them, her dirty dead cheerleader costume slung over her arm.
"Was she the cheerleader?" Robin hisses, and Eddie nods.
"Hey, Chris, wait!" he hollers, and drags her closer, making introductions. He's no dummy, he knows what that question entailed, and he has no problem playing a hint of matchmaker. And if they're talking, that'll give Eddie some time alone with Steve.
The fact that Steve showed up at all, late at night, was a sacrifice of sleeping time. Eddie knows it, and appreciates it. So, he won't keep him. He'll send him back home to bed, or straight to the bakery, wherever he needs to be next, so he can get ready to make the donuts as Steve likes to say.
"I'm glad you came," Eddie says, running his hand up Steve's arm.
"Of course, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you as the evil undead."
Eddie grins at him. He really likes this guy.
"The bats were really believable."
Eddie grins, and tells him all about how he helped design them with his friends. They built the pulley system in Gareth's garage on the cheap, but it works, and well.
Steve nods along, then pulls Eddie into the darkness, where the floodlights don't reach. Eddie goes, willingly, sliding his hands along Steve's waist.
And then they're kissing, and Eddie couldn't be more fucking thrilled.
Steve is interested. And Eddie is definitely interested.
Steve's tongue slides along his, and Eddie squeezes him tighter, pulling Steve into his body, wanting to be closer. As close as they can get here in this dark alleyway.
When Steve pulls back, he presses his forehead to Eddie's, and Eddie tries to look into his eyes this close-up.
"I've wanted to do that since the orchard," Steve says.
"Fuck, me too," Eddie admits. He'd like to do more, too, but Robin is yelling that her alarm is going off, meaning Steve's got to get to the bakery.
Steve's day is just beginning, and Eddie's is just ending. Their schedules couldn't be more out of sync if they tried.
But Eddie reluctantly lets him go, they say their goodbyes, but Eddie is already scheming how he'll get to see Steve next.
The next morning, Eddie forces himself out of bed at a normal hour so he can go to the bakery. Gareth follows him to the van, tagging along without an invite, but Eddie doesn't care, as long as he can see Steve, it's all good.
Steve's behind the counter, and he grins when he sees Eddie come through the front door, "Hey!"
"Hey, yourself," Eddie says back, looking at the handwritten menu board. "Suggestions are welcome."
And Steve just laughs, and then produces a piece of cobbler that looks sticky and delicious.
"Sold," Eddie replies, taking the plate from him, and then nodding towards Gareth, "and whatever he wants. This is Gareth."
Gareth is looking in the glass case, paying no attention to either of them.
"So, this is the famous Eddie?" a girl who is not Robin asks, sidling up beside Steve at the counter.
"That's Eddie," Steve says with a smile, then introduces her, "This is Di."
She makes a shooing motion with her hands, "Go. Sit with him for a minute. I'll watch the counter," Di offers, pushing Steve from behind the register, and Eddie's grateful.
"Thanks, Di," Steve answers, pulling his apron off over his head, showing a strip of bare skin as it goes. His stomach is hairy and Eddie gulps, probably audibly, like he's in a cartoon.
He wants, he wants, he wants.
Steve picks up his coffee mug, and grabs a piece of cobbler for himself.
"Hey kid, head's up," Eddie says, and Gareth looks just in time to catch Eddie's wallet as Eddie tosses it to him. "Pick something and pay the nice lady."
"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says, and goes right back to looking at all his options.
Steve leads Eddie over to a table in the corner, and they sit and get to talk face-to-face, for the first time since their first afternoon here. Yeah, sure, he saw Steve last night, that was just a brief hi and bye.
It's nice to sit across from him again, and even nicer when Steve slides his hand forward, lacing their fingers together. Miraculously Gareth doesn't come over and cockblock him like the little shit that he is, instead lingering by the counter.
Eddie looks back at Steve.
"You know, I don't really date," Steve admits, "I mean, the bakery hours keep my nightlife non-existent. And I've gotten used to that. But I really like you."
Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Is he blushing? That's absurd, but he thinks it's probably true. He likes Steve. A lot. And he can deal with weird hours for Steve, he's damn certain. Dates at three in the afternoon? Awesome. He'll have just rolled out of bed a couple hours before that half the time anyway.
"But, I'd like to try. If you want to," Steve says, and Eddie nods.
"Yeah, I want to. I really like you, too."
Then the phone rings, and it's something Steve has to take, and Eddie glances at him one more time before he holds open the door with the jangly bell for Gareth to exit.
Steve's still looking at him, watching him go, so Eddie winks, and it makes Steve smile.
There's no plan, but Eddie knows he's gonna date the shit out of Steve Harrington.
Turns out, the whole dating with opposite schedules idea was way easier said than done. Eddie works every weekend night, all fall long, because that's the busy time. He works some weeknights, too, but those are easier to trade around for with his friends. So, weekends are definitely out, and he needs date ideas that don't mess with Steve's sleep schedule.
He's reading the paper that Wayne left on the coffee table as he sits on the couch and eats his cereal, when he sees that the local high school football team is playing next week, but that's on Friday. Duh. Friday Night Lights. Even he understands enough about football to get that that's a reference to the night they play. He may have needed three senior years to graduate, but he's not that dense. He keeps reading, and sees that the JV football team plays on Tuesday and the junior high team on Thursday. That's an idea. He doesn't really know what that means, but he knows who would.
"Hey, Wayne!" he yells, and when Wayne rounds the corner Eddie asks, "Tell me. Which is a better game to attend: JV or Junior High?"
"Game of what? Tiddlywinks? Dragons and Dragons?" Wayne prods, teasing him. Eddie damn well knows Wayne remembers what DnD is. He bought enough of those books for him in high school, it has to be seared into his old man brain.
But Wayne glances over at him from his recliner he's just sat down in, waiting for Eddie to spill it.
Eddie lowers his voice and mumbles, "Football."
"What'd you say, I didn't hear you?" Wayne drawls, but he's grinning like he heard exactly what Eddie said.
"Shut up, old man," Eddie teases, "I'm sort of dating a guy. He likes football. Used to play. I thought it might be nice to take him to a game, and I obviously can't do a Friday night game this year because of work. But I thought Steve might like to go to one of these other games?"
"Steve, huh? This Steve have a last name?" Wayne asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Wayne doesn't need to try to vet this guy like he did every single person Eddie dated in high school. He's a grown man now, almost thirty. He picks better these days.
At least, he hopes he does.
"Harrington," Eddie answers, "and you're ignoring the question. JV? Junior High?" Then points his finger at the newspaper, crinkling it, "Or the local flag football team plays on Sundays. Help a guy out. Jeez."
But Wayne is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. Eddie's never seen him this shocked in his life. And Eddie did some wild shit in high school that Wayne swears made him go gray and bald.
"Yes, yes, I'm willing to go to a game. We're all shocked. Make fun. I have it coming. But close your mouth before you catch flies."
"No. Just. Steve Harrington, Ed? You, my nephew, who hates all sports sight unseen, is dating Steve Harrington? Heisman Trophy winner as a sophomore, that Steve Harrington?"
Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know about all that. He runs a bakery."
Wayne lets out a breathy laugh, "Right. He runs a bakery."
"He does," Eddie confirms.
Wayne picks up his phone, puts on his reading glasses so Eddie knows he's serious, and finally turns the screen towards Eddie, "This your boy?"
Eddie smiles. He's younger, but yeah, that's definitely Steve, "Yep, that's Steve."
"I'll be damned, I knew he was from Indiana, but I didn't expect him to come back to our neck of the woods to run a bakery."
"You know my boyfriend, Wayne?" Eddie teases, lilting his voice, and batting his eyes.
"Anybody that followed football in the last decade knows of your boyfriend, Ed. He was gonna be a star, a franchise quarterback, for any team lucky enough to draft him."
Steve had said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to go pro, and now Eddie is doubting the validity of that, "He said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make it pro."
Wayne laughs, "That boy would've been a first round pick. He's just being humble."
"Oh," Eddie says, "that's pretty cool. It's too bad he got hurt, then."
"It is," Wayne agrees.
"If he was as good as you say, why didn't he just go pro right out of high school?" Eddie asks, thinking this over. He's really not sure why you'd take the risk playing college football before you could make the big bucks.
"That's not how the NFL draft works. You have to be three years past graduation from high school before you're eligible. And what else are you gonna do for those three years, if not play ball at college?"
"Oh," Eddie says, then adds, "Good thing I wasn't good at football. I'd have been an old man trying to enter the draft."
Wayne laughs. It wasn't so funny when Eddie was bearing down on twenty-one and still trying to get that damn diploma, but they can laugh about it now. Water under the bridge.
Eddie then asks, "So, about the game…"
Wayne steered him towards the JV game, but told him over and over that all of the options were beneath the level of football that Steve Harrington was used to watching, or playing.
Eddie decides to take him anyway.
Eddie buys the four dollar tickets at the gate from a mom sitting at a card table with a metal cash box in front of her, a button with her son's face pinned to her coat. He gives her a ten, and tells her to keep the change when she holds it in her hand, unmoving.
But that's just because she's staring at Steve, kind of starry-eyed. He is attractive, that's undeniable, and Eddie puffs up a little that he's the one getting to date him tonight.
Then Steve is accosted for pictures no less than seven times on the way to the stands, and Eddie wonders if he's made a mistake here. He didn't think it through, didn't understand that Steve would be known here.
Eddie escapes to the concessions stand, and when he comes back, arms full, there's a group of kids surrounding Steve. And Steve's engaged, and giving them what they want, clearly, but this isn't a good date. This seems more like he's trotted Steve out for the wolves.
Everyone else finally clears out as kickoff happens, leaving them alone, and Eddie takes his seat next to Steve on the bleachers.
"Uh, did I fuck this up?" Eddie whispers, handing Steve a tray of nachos.
"No. No way, this is great," Steve reassures, a big smile on his face.
"I truly didn't understand that you'd be recognized here," Eddie says, "I don't know anything about sports. I'm in over my head. I just thought, well, maybe you'd like to see a game. Even if it's just kids."
"This is great, Eddie. You did great, honest," Steve says. "I'm not recognized outside of football. Don't worry. This isn't an everyday occurrence. This is a very isolated incident, because of where we are. Some of these kids probably watched me play. I'm not that old."
Eddie laughs, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He definitely didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable.
And if he is, he never lets on. Instead, Steve explains the game to him as it goes, and it's a slow enough pace that Eddie thinks maybe he's understanding it. The football Steve had been watching on TV in the bakery had moved so fucking fast he had no hopes of following, not even when there was an instant replay to slow it down.
Steve's never seen these kids play before, but he can read them all like open books, calling plays, calling probable results before they happen. And he's right. Nine times out of ten, he's right.
He should probably coach football. But maybe that's too painful? Eddie's definitely not gonna bring it up.
They leave at halftime, and Eddie's sure it's only partly because Steve has to be up in less than eight hours.
He still thinks it went well, because Steve leans over in the van and kisses him.
Eddie suddenly feels like he can't feel his face, even as he kisses back, hand cupping Steve's face, just wanting to touch him.
Eddie likes him so goddamn much, and as Steve pulls away, Eddie feels like they are no longer struggling to make a connection. They've done it. They're getting there.
Over the next few weeks, they have half-dozen more half-dates. Eddie catches the first quarter of a college football game, Steve's alma mater, on the television at the bakery with him before having to head to the maze for the night.
A few days later they grab fast food in Steve's car, and Eddie's definitely trying hard not to make a mess. Steve's car is nice, and Eddie's only used to his shitty van.
They carve out an hour to just lay in Steve's bed, kissing and touching, and eventually fucking before they need to part ways again.
Eddie wonders if they'll ever get to actually sleep in the same bed with shifts this ass-backwards from each other.
Spooky season comes and goes, and Eddie's back looking for some kind of other temporary work. He's complaining to Steve that nobody is hiring, even when they say they're hiring.
"Come work at the bakery," Steve says, "then maybe we'll finally get to see each other for longer than an hour at a time."
Eddie starts to say no, starts to deflect in a knee-jerk way, but then decides he'd really like to do that, "Really?"
"Really," Steve confirms.
"I don't know how to bake, you know that," Eddie teases.
"You're not coming there to bake. Please, no. But you could run the register. Right?"
And Eddie thinks he'd like to do just that, so he nods and nods.
So, they work together, and sometimes go home with each other after. Both of them dozing on the couch while Wayne watches football, or cuddling up at Steve's place while Robin whines about it being her turn to cook dinner.
And Eddie ends up loving Robin, because working with her at the bakery might be almost as fun as it is working with Steve. She's not there all the time, but when she is, they run the front together, while Steve and Di have the back, and it's the least work feeling work he's ever done.
She's funny, and snarky, and loves Steve so much Eddie can feel it rolling off of her in waves. She kept him from getting hurt further. She made sure he'd be okay, even if Eddie's sure Steve felt anything but at the time.
He talks up Steve's baked goods, upselling easily, turning a half-dozen box into a full dozen more often than not. Eventually he sneaks around while Steve isn't looking, and hangs his own picture on the wall, labeled underneath as Employee of the Month, as a joke.
When Steve finally notices it, it stays. Eddie's part of the place, now. And he couldn't be happier about that. Harrington's is fun, and relaxed, and he's honestly never gotten this invested in a job before. He wants it to succeed, because he wants Steve, and the rest of his friends, to succeed. And yeah, he's sure Steve has a lot to do with that, but still, the fact that he's enjoying it is a bonus he hadn't foreseen coming.
He helps clean up every afternoon, so they can get out of there faster, together. Today, with the cold winter air blowing, snow flurries are blustering around, stinging his face as they hit. So, he hugs Steve from behind as he locks the back door in the alley where they park, hiding his face in Steve's coat.
"Hello to you, too," Steve flirts, and Eddie smirks as soon as he realizes this is gonna be a short afternoon, because when they get home, they are definitely going straight to bed.
And they do just that. It's cold outside, but the warm winter sunlight is pouring through the windows, made brighter by the snow on the ground, and Eddie's in love.
Steve looks fucking gorgeous, the light hitting him that way, letting that glow he always has about him shine through from the inside out.
Eddie runs his fingers over his body, his athletic frame that sees no playing time, anymore. He runs to keep in shape, but Eddie thinks he'd run too if he had that kind of albatross slung around his neck. If he'd lost the thing he loved most, the thing he'd hung his whole hat on.
If he'd lost possible rings and millions of dollars.
Steve's almost twenty-nine. He'd be hitting his peak, his best years of play.
But Steve's happy. He's not a bitter guy. He loves his bakery, and he loves his friends and-
"What's," Steve breathes out, easing up on his pace, "what's with the face?"
"I love you," Eddie blurts out.
Steve smiles, so fucking wide it feels like it cracks open Eddie's chest, "Well, don't look so sad about it then."
And Eddie laughs, reaching up to grasp Steve's hips, helping him regain his momentum. The spiral he was headed down on Steve's behalf, broken.
Steve doesn't want Eddie dwelling on the past. Especially if he doesn't do it himself. There are no pity parties happening in Steve Harrington's orbit.
"I love you, too. Now fuck me like you're not gonna cry about it."
Eddie huffs out a laugh, so fucking charmed and delighted by this man that he loves. He'll fuck him all right.
"Hold on then, big boy," Eddie teases, and thrusts upwards, carrying the weight of Steve with him off the bed.
Maybe instead, they'll just hit their primes together.
Eddie starts to become a morning person against his will as the months wear on, and Steve will have to pay for that, eventually. But not today.
No, today he's more than fine with going to bed at eight-thirty, dicking down his boyfriend, then afterwards both of them will be sound asleep by nine.
Gareth is hanging around the bakery more and more, and before Eddie realizes it, Steve and Di have taught Gareth how to bake. And he's somehow good at it. Gareth eventually weasels his way into a full-time job, too. Which gets Eddie's wheels turning. Maybe by next fall, Eddie can surprise Steve with tickets to an NFL game to watch his friend play, because together they are slowly building up enough of a staff to run the store in their absence.
It doesn't have to just be Steve anymore. It can be all of them.
Next fall, Eddie thinks.
And he smiles.
He's planning ahead, now. Planning for a future, one that he intends to share with Steve.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun! 🍎
