I've got brainrot about 2 idiots from the 80s

hello, yes, i have instagram too. i tried to take some screenshots of the progress... but totally forgot about it halfway through. anyway, here's a funny looking collage.

It doesn't look bad. In fact, Eddie kind of likes it. It's just different enough that he feels like something's changed. And after everything he's gone through, it's nice to feel like he's made a change of his own volition.

It's been a rough decade. Nothing has gone right.

Except for Steve. 

But they don't talk about that, instead they just do this thing together in between the failed attempts of either of them trying to date someone else.

That hasn't happened in forever.

Literal years, if Eddie's memory isn't all fucked up. That's usually Steve's thing. Eddie is Steve's extra brainpower, and Steve is Eddie's extended mobility. They're both okay, just a little bit damaged on the bad days. On the good days? Nobody would notice anything terrible had ever happened to them at all.

Eddie longs for more of the good days than the bad, and that's what they've gotten for a while.

Robin calls them co-dependent, which Eddie thinks is rich, coming from her.

Steve might still go chase pussy whenever he feels the need to coddle and cuddle, but Eddie doesn't ask, so Steve doesn't tell. But it's been a long time since anyone has come along to put a pin in what they do with one another.

"Keep it dry for forty-eight hours," Steve bosses, and Eddie gives him a sarcastic salute. 

Less than twenty-four hours later, Eddie dabs at his hair in front of the sink, as Steve stands in the doorway.

"I said no water," Steve bitches, and Eddie wheels on him.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have shot your load in my hair then," Eddie snaps, and Steve just laughs, scratching his bare stomach with his blunt nails.

"You're the one that moved," Steve accuses.

"I had a leg cramp. You know, where all that muscle is fucked? From some bats trying to rip me limb from limb? That ringing any bells?"

Steve just smiles, unbothered. Then says, "I'm gonna head out."

It puts Eddie in an instant bad mood. Steve's always heading out, never staying, but Eddie only has himself to blame for how things are. They have an arrangement, one that Eddie very carefully crafted to his liking. An arrangement only. Not a relationship. And after Eddie pushed and pushed, making sure to plant Steve at arm's length, now he's the pissy one that Steve's stayed just out of reach.

The audacity.

Eddie made his bed, he has to lie in it.

"Why you telling me for?" Eddie snaps, turning back towards the mirror. 

Steve's reflection flips him off, before he disappears.

Hair finally washed, Eddie sits on the porch, damp curls soaking his shoulders through his t-shirt. 

Eddie can hear Steve's car coming up the road before he can see him. 

When he arrives, he slams the door, stilling in the dirt driveway, staring at Eddie.

"I've had a bad day," Steve says, and Eddie stands.

"Me too," Eddie says, and that's all he needs to say.

It's on.

Eddie's on his knees, and Steve's hands are fisted in his hair. It's grounding. Steve tugging him up and down, forcing his hot, wet mouth to glide along Steve's hard length. 

His jaw aches, and he's grateful to feel.

"That's it," Steve says, "suck my dick like I paid you to do it."

Eddie's trying. Eddie's always trying.

And he likes that Steve makes him feel like it's still not good enough. He doesn't want to coast. Doesn't want to rest on his laurels. He wants to make Steve feel better than he did the last time. More satisfied.

It'd taken some forceful redirection to scrub Steve's softness from their encounters. Those first months, even as good as it felt, it made Eddie's skin crawl. Steve petting him, or holding his hand, or god-fucking-forbid, thrusting into him gently as he stared in Eddie's eyes. Like he wanted to see his soul.

No fucking thank you.

That's for relationships, and since they don't have one of those? Eddie's out on any of that bullshit.

So, Eddie had to mold him. Had to gently lead him into a little roughness, a half-step at a time. Steve won't hurt him, but he will use his words to cut, he will pin Eddie to the mattress, or pull his hair, and that's just fucking fine with Eddie.

Eddie closes his eyes and lets Steve just fuck his mouth. Lets him ram that big cock down as far as he wants to, and when he comes, Eddie swallows. 

His own dick is hard, but pretty indifferent at being ignored, and when Steve manhandles Eddie to the couch, onto his back, Eddie knows where this is going. Steve grabs the lube off the end table, slicking up Eddie, slicking up himself, and getting a quick two fingers deep.

And then he's seated. 

Eddie prefers it the other way around, but sometimes, sometimes Steve just takes what he wants, and that? Well, that's just fine with Eddie. He'll let Steve ride his cock, chasing after whatever he needs.

It's not like Eddie's dick cares. He still gets hard, but his orgasm likes to take its sweet-ass time after whatever nerve damage the bats caused, so if Steve wants to fuck himself silly? He can go for it.

Hips rolling.

The pleasure's dulled for Eddie, the sensations lost somewhere down a tunnel, meaning all he can do is last, and sometimes, like today, Steve uses that to his advantage, pinching Eddie's good nipple, a good twist, making Eddie laugh.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

He'd actually asked Nancy to drive him because his van was still in the shop (some asshole had found where he'd abandoned it and went to town. Eddie's afraid to hear how much it's gonna cost to fix his van up). Nancy had said she was busy and called Steve over.

"Steve, Eddie needs a ride to Indianapolis tomorrow. You available?" she plastered a smile onto her face while staring Steve down. The two seem to have an entire conversation with just their eyes and the tilting of their heads before Steve's face had turned red (probably pissed at Nancy) and he let out a defeated sigh.

"Yeah. I'll pick you up early, Munson. Be up."

And now here they are. Eddie's beautiful new guitar, mysteriously paid for, along with a case, taking up the backseat of the BWM. Weird, tense energy in the car. Eddie's leg bouncing because the thunder is rolling, and he wants to feel the rain falling.

"I wasn't ready when you showed up at the ass crack of dawn, Stevie," Eddie says, finally responding to Steve's comment, turning to look at the side of Steve's stupid, handsome face.

"Ten AM is not the ass crack of dawn," Steve rolls his eyes. "I told you to be up early, which might I add, early is closer to seven than ten. But I knew that would actually be too early for you so I-"

Steve continues but Eddie tunes him out. He doesn't want a lecture. He's not one of the damn kids. Steve's not his mother. Eddie turns his face away to look out the passenger window as the storm breaks loose. The thunder rumbles loud and the rain drops heavy and Eddie watches as lightning flashes brightly. "Stop the car."

"-ould go to breakfast with me and- what?" Steve was apparently still talking. Had been in the middle of a sentence, but Eddie's not interested in whoever he'd been talking about having breakfast with.

"Stop the car. I need out. Wanna feel the rain," Eddie says, fingers tapping on his knees as his leg still bounces.

Steve gives him a quick sideways glance but doesn't look away from the road. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

"Yes."

Steve huffs out a breath that could almost be a laugh (Eddie's certain is just another defeated sigh), but he does it. Flips the blinker on (even though there's not another car around for probably miles) and pulls of the side of the road. Flicks the hazards on after putting the car in park. "Alright then. Let's go play in the rain."

Eddie unbuckles and crawls from the car. He's wearing his leather jacket, so he quickly strips that off to the Metallica tank underneath.

The rain feels blessedly cool on his skin, and he can feel the rumble of the thunder in his chest. There's nothing but flat land between Hawkins and anywhere, really, so Eddie's got plenty of room to spread his arms and spin in the rain. It's windy enough the Eddie's hair whips around, and it doesn't take too long before he feels the bandana he'd had on get pulled from his head.

He stops spinning and has to take several seconds to make sure he's not going to stumble before he can look up and search for where the wind might have taken his bandana.

The last thing he expects to see is that Steve is already chasing it down. He didn't even hear Steve get out of the car. The wind whips the bandana up and swiftly changes direction to throw it back towards Steve. It's not aimed right at him, though, so he watches as Steve throws an arm out and lunges to the side, catching it out of the air by just his fingertips.

Steve turns to Eddie and sees him watching. Surprisingly, breathtakingly, Steve beams at him. A smile that Eddie doesn't think he's ever seen on Steve's face before, happy and a little proud. He thrusts the hand gripping the bandana into the air with a victory punch. "Caught it!"

Eddie can barely hear him over the storm and the blood pounding in his own ears. Steve is soaked, hair clinging to face, shirt sticking to his body, and looking so damn good with a smile on his face. Eddie stands frozen as Steve jogs up to him.

"Watched the wind rip this right off your head," Steve says, like Eddie hadn't been an active participant in the wind stealing his bandana. Steve doesn't offer him his bandana back, though. Just stands there, smile still on his face even as the rain slaps into it.

"Thanks, I guess," Eddie says, dumbly.

The smile leaves Steve's face slowly, like he's realizing something and doesn't like it. "Right." Lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating Steve's face brightly for just a second but it's enough for Eddie to see, like, really see, Steve.

He's got that Look on his face, but Eddie can see hurt laced under it this time and Eddie finally fucking sees.

Everything plays through his head again, as Eddie filters through it with a different understanding now; Steve's eyes always on him when he's near but not brave enough to approach. When Nancy volunteered Steve as today's driver, Steve wasn't angry, he was blushing. Steve wasn't mocking him about the time they left Hawkins this morning, he was teasing. Steve was laughing earlier, and he probably wasn't lecturing Eddie, either. More teasing.

Steve had pulled over to the side of the highway so Eddie could feel the rain on his skin and had said 'Let's go play in the rain'. Let's. As in, Steve had wanted to join him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Steve has a crush on him and has been being shy about it.

But now he's watching Steve retreat to his car, rejection lining the edges of his hunched shoulders. Because of course he'd think Eddie's rejected him. Eddie's been nothing but dismissive and distant all day. He'd already written Steve off, thinking he was the asshole and it's Eddie who's been the asshole.

"Wait!" Eddie shouts, because he needs Steve to stop walking away. It works. Steve does wait. Holy shit, Steve's got it so bad for him, doesn't he? Steve turns back around, and he just looks confused as Eddie closes the distance between them.

"Dude, I'm such an idiot," Eddie says and Steve snorts a laugh at his expense but that's fine. He offers up a hand to Steve, "Play in the rain with me, Steve."

Steve looks from the hand to Eddie's face and back before he reaches out and takes Eddie's hand.

"And singing and dancing camels. Look! They have knees. And shoes. Like yours. Why would camels need tennis shoes?" Eddie whispers, like he's horrified by this possibility.

Steve laughs.

"Right. Of course," Steve says, humoring him. "So. Totally unrelated to the camels in my shoes — what did you take tonight?" Steve asks in a singsongy way.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat.

"Gareth and I had some mushrooms. We ate them. He's in the bathroom puking."

Steve chuckles. Halluciogenics. That tracks with how Eddie's acting right now.

Next up, there are Claymation bells, and Steve slings an arm over Eddie's shoulders. There's a clay version of Quasimodo directing their bell orchestra. 

Eddie's clearly horrified.

"Look at him. He's terrifying."

Steve doesn't agree, just laughs. This is funny, and when the bell that isn't doing anything the way he's supposed to chucks his hammer away, and then tries to steal the hammers of others around him, Steve laughs.

"It's not funny!" Eddie exclaims, and it really is. Eddie's reaction is making this a thousand times better than it would be on its own. Steve's sure of that.

Eddie's face is pressed into Steve's chest, one eye still glued to the screen.

"That bear has boobies," Eddie says.

"Pretty sure that's a walrus," Steve answers, "and yes, she does."

By the time the trippy Joy to the World comes on, with the Earth shifting and moving, and changing faces in the sun, Eddie's full-on freaking out. Steve's gotta get him to bed, and Gareth out of the bathroom.

"C'mon," Steve says, "time for bed."

Eddie is slow to get up, transfixed by the changing colors. Like he's hypnotized, but in a traumatized way. Steve didn't need some children's Christmas special to tell him they're all a little traumatized. He experienced all that first hand, thank you very much.

When the hands scroll across the screen, traveling upwards, Eddie screams.

"That's it," Steve says, and gets him to his feet. "Bed."

Eddie only makes it halfway to the doorway before he wheels around, "Hey! It's the California Raisins! That's why I was watching this!" 

And there's no use fighting him, Eddie bails back onto the couch, and Steve must follow. Those are the rules in this life he's chosen to live.

Eddie watches, no longer scared, transfixed, and Steve is pretty sure he's gonna wind up at Hardee's to collect even more of the California Raisins figures. 

When it finally ends and the credits roll, Eddie says, "Garfield was on before this. He went to the farm for Christmas. He breathed fire."

"I'm sure he did," Steve says, guiding Eddie by the shoulders towards the bedroom. When they pass the open bathroom door, Gareth is leaning against the wall, and gives Steve a thumb's up. At least he's among the living.

Steve digs around the stereo, and finds The California Raisins – Sing The Hit Songs tape, shoving it into the deck. It starts somewhere in the middle of Lean on Me and Steve helps Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. Hopefully he'll be long asleep before Steve needs to get up and change the tape to the other side.

"What the fuck did we watch last night?" Eddie asks, rubbing his eyes with his fingers in a way that Steve thinks must hurt.

"You watched a Claymation Christmas special while on shrooms. It was interesting, to say the least."

Eddie laughs, and Steve rolls over, placing his hand in the center of Eddie's chest.

"You better this morning?"

Eddie nods. 

"Glad to hear it. Gareth might still be in our bathroom."

Eddie laughs, a scratchy sound, and hauls himself up out of bed. Steve follows, and sure enough, Gareth is still sound asleep on the bathmat. Steve offers to go make some breakfast while Eddie gets him up and off the floor.

Steve doesn't know why they keep dabbling. Or at least, why Eddie keeps dabbling with Gareth. History has proven Gareth can't handle anything they've tried. His tolerance is worse than Steve's despite partaking more often.

Still, it's nothing a little food and attention from Eddie won't cure.

After digging in the fridge, Steve is just about to crack and egg into the bowl when he hears, "Hey, Steve! We want Hardee's!"

Steve closes his eyes, tilting his head back. Fine.

He places the egg back into its carton, and clutches the edge of the counter.

"Fine!" he yells back, and knows until that damn California Raisins promo is history, he's always gonna eat another cinnamon raisin biscuit drizzled in icing for breakfast just so Eddie can procure another .99 toy.

Nobody warned him that this was what would happen when he fell in love with a nerd. Happy Meal toys. Collectable glasses. And it's not even as if Eddie's sucked this out of his thumb, either. Wayne collects, too. Just mugs. And hats. Still. It feels very similar, his things just require Steve to drive all over, trying to complete all of Eddie's little sets.

They ate Pizza Hut once a week until the Flintstones glasses were all bought. Collection complete. Last year, it was the Popples ones. Steve honestly doesn't remember what it is even like to drink out of a glass that doesn't have some sort of cartoon character on it.

Still, he'd change nothing.

"Hurry up! I'm hungry!" Steve yells, and finally hears feet on linoleum.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: If you've never seen the Christmas special that was referenced throughout this fic, it was Will Vinton's A Claymation Christmas and you should watch it. And The California Raisins were a big deal during this time period. I don't actually remember what time of the year in 1987 that Hardee's promotion took place, though, and couldn't find it online. So, I'm just pretending it was over Christmas, lol.

And yes, this fic takes place specifically on December 21st, 1987, and yes, A Garfield Christmas did air directly before on CBS. Never seen that either? Here!

Credit for the TV guide picture from this cute retro video. Check out the Rodney Reindeer plush next to the TV. You just know Eddie made Steve get those from Burger King that year as well.