still going steddie

Gen | WC 5,042

AO3 Summary:

The upside down flipped Eddie's world, and the strangest part wasn't the monsters or government conspiracy, it was how much time he was willingly spending with Steve Harrington. And how far he was willing to go to make Steve smile.

Eddie plays basketball, the fanfic, because in a relationship it's important to share hobbies, and no one ever wants to play sports with Steve, so now Eddie's going to.

Fic Link

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I was so excited to work with @kpopwinemom for the @st-fromthegrave-minibang !! This has been such a fun process, and the fic is so sweet 💛 Thank you to our wonderful mod and everyone else in this event!!

Part of my upside-down AU

Vampire Eddie, or something like that

He’s been burned before. That’s what it feels like, anyway. People get close, closer, closest, all that light right in front of his face—and then they’re gone. The light fizzles out. And he’s in the dark again. So when an ember starts dropping into his orbit now, his whole body tenses on instinct. He doesn’t even know if he’s afraid of getting burned or afraid of watching it go out when it finally reaches him.

Eddie lands softer than anyone he’s ever met. One day he’s just this bright thing across a cafeteria, across a trailer park, across a field full of kids. Then he’s on Steve’s couch. In his kitchen. In his passenger seat. On the floor of his bedroom, laughing at his own joke. Right up against Steve’s skin.

It should burn. This ember on his skin. Steve waits for it to. His brain keeps insisting, any second now, this is going to hurt. He keeps his shoulders up around his ears, keeps a little distance tucked inside his chest, like that’ll make it easier when Eddie fizzles.

But it doesn’t hurt. He looks at the ember, bright against his skin, and it doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t dim.

It just…glows. It’s warm where Eddie presses up against his life, not scalding. It’s the kind of heat you lean into without meaning to. A hand on his shoulder. A knee against his on the couch. A voice at his side going, ‘Hey, you awake?’

Sometimes, when it’s late and they’re the only ones left by the dying fire in the Harrington backyard, Steve looks down and realizes he’s stopped bracing. Eddie’s light is right there on his skin and he isn’t flinching; he’s just admiring and holding his breath like he’s afraid to accidentally blow it out.

The thing is, embers always go out. Steve knows that. He can feel that fear like a ghost burn under the surface, even while he’s sitting there, bathed in Eddie’s warmth. He doesn’t know how to believe in an ember that might stay.

His voice was flat, unimpressed, the barest hitch to it that no one would ever catch.

Steve just grinned, kept tracing his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand, figure-8s around the knuckles, the barest trace of maddening pressure that made Eddie's throat click around a swallow.

"Eddie," Steve said, solemnly, a tiny quirk of a grin hidden at the edge of his mouth.

"Hospital hand-holding," Eddie said, going for his most maddeningly pedantic, "is for coma patients and grandparents. Siblings, possibly. Spouses, I'll allow."

The grin wasn't hidden any more, curling Steve's mouth up into something indescribably soft. Eddie'd look away, look at the damp-stained ceiling, if that didn't feel like admitting defeat.

"So more than friends, is what you're telling me," Steve said, squeezing Eddie's hand a little tighter. Eddie had to bite back a soft noise - almost managed it, too.

"Are we even- " Eddie started, then redirected, to avoid the line forming between Steve's eyebrows. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"You got a problem with me holding your hand, Munson?" Steve asked, leaning in too close, his grin lost to the brightness of his hazel eyes, his weight leaning on the bed sheets and pulling them tight against -

Eddie failed at biting back a noise again. Closed his eyes as Steve looked down.

"Look," Eddie said, shake in his voice, hopelessness in his tone, "look this is progress, okay?"

"I guess boners require blood pressure," Steve said, his tone a little off.

"It's not my fault you're some kind of fairytale hero," Eddie said helplessly. "I can't help it if my dick's kind of in love with you now."

A pause, then another tightening of Steve's fingers.

Finally allowed to share my piece I made for a Steddie zine!