stranger things? no that’s the eddie munson show

Nancy: Don’t lose hope! Shrek didn’t get a girlfriend until he was in his 30s!

"Hypothetically speaking, if needed an alibi, let's say, for last Saturday, how willing would you be to lie to the authorities on my behalf?"

Steve gently set his daughter down on the floor, and watched as she ran off to play "What the hell did you do?"

"I said hypothetically speaking."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

Eddie paused for a second, mentally calculating if Steve was "sexy mad", "dad-mode mad", or "no-one-will-find-your-body mad"

Eddie winced "So, I might have stolen Jason Carver's dog."

Steve just blinks at him. Slow. Processing. Regret already setting in.

“...You what?”

Eddie throws his hands up immediately, defensive. “Okay, first of all rescued. Let’s not jump straight to ‘stolen.’ That feels very… prosecutable.”

“Eddie.” he warned.

Eddie started pacing, leather boots leaving tracks in the carpet

“He leaves him outside all the time! The dog looked at me, Steve. Looked at me. Like ‘sir, I yearn for freedom.’”

“That dog had a backyard and a chew toy, not a prison sentence.”

“Debatable. The vibes were off.”

Steve drags a hand down his face. “You cannot just kidnap someone’s dog because of vibes.”

“I didn’t "kidnap" him, i-" Eddie gestured to the world, trying to make the situation seem less criminal so he wouldn't end up asleep on the couch. "I recruited him. He got in the van willingly. That’s basically consent.”

“Dogs will get in any van, Eddie, that’s the problem!” Steve yelled, eye twitching slightly

Eddie pauses. “…Okay, that’s actually a really solid point, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Where is the dog right now?”

“…Safe.”

“Eddie.”

“…With me.”

“EDDIE.”

Eddie looked over, trying desperately to back track because that was definitely not a "sexy mad" tone.

“He’s fine! I fed him! I gave him water! We watched TV together, he’s really into nature documentaries, by the way.”

Steve is already pacing now, full mom-mode activated. “Jason is going to call the cops.”

“Which brings us back to my original question: how do you feel about lying to authorities?”

Steve stops dead and points at him. “Absolutely not. I am not going to jail because you decided to commit dog-based vigilantism.”

Eddie squints. “Wow. ‘Dog-based vigilantism’ sounds way cooler than what I said.”

“Return. The. Dog.”

Eddie hesitates, then mumbles, “…what if he doesn’t want to go back?”

Steve stares at him.

Eddie sighs dramatically. “You’re killing a beautiful friendship here, Harrington. Me and that dog had something real, plus Stella likes dogs!!”

“Give him back before I personally drive you to the police station.” Steve threatened, his voice slipping darker and deeper.

“Okay, okay! God, you’re like a really hot probation officer.”

“EDDIE.”

The room goes dead quiet as a deep threatening the growl leaves the dog’s throat.

Stella froze mid-step, clutching her little stuffed toy, dark eyes went wide, not crying yet, just confused.

Steve froze, overrun by pure paternal dread, Then very, very slowly… he turned to Eddie.

“…get that dog,” he said, voice low and razor sharp, “out. of. my. house.”

Eddie physically recoiled like he’s just been hit with a shockwave. “Okay. .he..he’s just....he’s adjusting!..new environment...big feelings...” he tried

“Now.”

Eddie winced, already reaching for the leash. “Technically our house, shared mort—”

Steve snaps, full volume, full fury: “EDWARD CHRISTOPHER MUNSON.”

Silence.

Eddie swallows. “…copy that.”

He crouches slightly, trying to gently guide the dog back. “Alright, buddy, we’re gonna....uh...relocate”

The dog resists.

Steve took one step forward.

Not fast. Not aggressive.

But decisive.

“Move.”

Eddie doesn’t argue again. “Moving! We’re moving!”

He half-dragged, half-coaxed the dog toward the door, muttering apologies the whole way. “You picked the wrong tiny human to beef with, man, I tried to tell you!”

The door shut behind them.

Silence again.

Steve immediately dropped to his knees in front of Stella, all the anger gone like it never existed.

“hey, princess, you okay?”

Stella blinked, then nodded, muttering in her tiny voice: “Doggy mad…”

“Yeah,” Steve said gently, brushing her hair back, checking her over like she’s made of glass. “But he’s gone now. He’s not coming back in here, okay? You’re safe. Daddy will never let you get hurt, I promise "

She leaned into him, small arms wrapping around his neck.

Steve presses a kiss to her hair, holding her close, rocking her a little to soothe the shock.

From outside:

Eddie, muffled: “YOU WERE DOING SO WELL, MAN, WHY WOULD YOU FUMBLE A TODDLER—”

“SIR I YEARN FOR FREEDOM” i CRIED i CACKLED

nooooo the dog fumbled the baby he was doing so good 😭

Steve walked into the kitchen at 8am wearing an old Hawkins High sweatshirt, sweatpants, and his glasses because he ran out of contact solution. His hair sticking up in 7 directions because Stella decided that socks were a crime, breakfast was a scam, and that manners were optional.

And Eddie blue screened. Like. Full system failure.

He slowly lowered the spoon he was holding and whispered “Jesus Christ.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

Eddie pointed at his face like he’d discovered a religious artifact.

“The glasses.”

“…okay?”

“No, Harrington, not okay.” Eddie gripped the counter dramatically. “You can’t just walk around looking like a divorced college professor who secretly sleeps with his students.”

That woke him up. His entire face flashing red "WHAT?”

Eddie started to circle him like a snake with a mouse. “The sweatshirt? The messy hair? The glasses? This is targeted psychological warfare.”

“They’re literally prescription lenses.”

“That’s worse.”

Stella wandered in carrying her blanket and looked between them, big brown eyes blinking as she registered the world. “Papa bein' weird again?”

Eddie croucheed to Stella’s level, deadly serious. “your daddy's trying to ruin me, baby Bambi"

Steve doesn't react, he knows by now that if he reacted Eddie got more theatric, something he didn't have the energy for right now. Instead he focused on trying to pour cereal for his daughter, while Eddie stares at him like a Victorian man seeing ankle for the first time.

Then Steve pushed the glasses up his nose absentmindedly.

And Eddie audibly whimpers.

Robin SLAMMED her mug down. “OH MY GOD, GET A GRIP.”

“I CAN’T.”

Steve finally looked at him suspiciously. “You are being extra insane about this.”

Eddie grabbed Steve by the hips dramatically.

“You don’t understand the power you hold over me.”

Stella nodded wisely. “Daddy make papa stupid.”

“YES,” Eddie says immediately. “THANK YOU.”

Steve started to fight a smile which only made it worse because the glasses crinkle slightly when he laughs.

Eddie looked genuinely devastated.

“Oh, I’m finished. This is how I die.” he placed a hand to his forehead like. Fainting southern belle. ,"oh it's too much for my heart"

Steve shot him a look, but it was too late, Eddie was in full drama club mode, being enabled by Stella's giggles.

Eddie: No, yesterday I was smoking again

As unlikely as it was, Eddie had been almost forced to accept it as truth. Steve repeatedly drove the point home, in any case, and Eddie liked him too much to keep brushing him off.

When Steve shuffled up to him one day, those puppy dog eyes big and guilty, and tried apologizing to him, saying things like “you made it clear you’re not interested”, Eddie couldn’t take it. No matter his own doubts, he couldn’t let Steve walk away broken-hearted.

And now, they were dating. He woke up to Steve curled around him every morning, let Steve hold his hand at Party gatherings, slowly got used to the fact that Steve loved to kiss him every moment they were in private.

Eddie loved it, he did. He loved Steve, Steve was perfect. But he knew this couldn’t last.

It sounded stupid and immature to admit, even to himself. But deep down he knew that no matter how well he managed to love Steve, he’d never do it for him long-term. Superficially.

Fine, he could accept that Steve had been with guys before and wasn’t doing some kind of big gay experiment where he’d realize at the end he was still straight. But, if anything, that ramped up the pressure. Steve had told him about some of the guys he’d dated in the past, and it was safe to say they were much closer to the gorgeous, ripped jock end of the spectrum than wiry, noddle physique, and missing whole chunks of skin because of a horde of demobats.

But also wearing this shirt when he's mad at him because #PettyKing

YESSSSSSS

let’s pretend this isn’t late

One ragebait!

“Oh, come on, don't be upset," he sighed, rolling his eyes at Steve in a way that made him feel very stupid, "isn't this enough? You can't have thought I'd admit this, right?"