General Fic Tag
Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here.
Reference post for Steve's BMW
Oneshots/drabbles/ficlets can be found here
Fics with multiple posts can be found below.
Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Final Part
Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Final Part
Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Part Four 🦇 Part Five 🦇 Part Six 🦇 Part Seven 🦇 Part Eight 🦇 Final Part
What's Eight Plus Seven? - Completed - [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Part Four 🦇 Part Five 🦇 Part Six
Gut Instinct - On Going - [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Part Four 🦇 Part Five 🦇 Part Six 🦇 Part Seven 🦇 Part Eight 🦇 Part Nine 🦇 Part Ten 🦇 Part Eleven 🦇 Part Twelve 🦇 Part Thirteen 🦇 Part Fourteen
No Regrets - On Going - [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Part Four 🦇 Part Five 🦇 Part Six
Good People - Completed [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Final Part
Jealousy Looks Different on You - Completed [Ao3]
[Part One] ✨ [Part Two] ✨ [Part Three] ✨ [Final Part]
My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going - [Ao3]
Part One
The Interview - Completed [Ao3]
The Interview (Part One)
The Response (Part Two)
The Conversation (Part Three)
Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]
Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins - On Going [Ao3]
Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred. [Ao3] This is the first fic for both versions of the Cousins AU, though not a necessary read for either. It is canon in both universes though.
Sad AU [Ao3]
Part One 🦇 Part Two 🦇 Part Three 🦇 Part Four 🦇 Part Five 🦇 Part Six 🦇 Part Seven 🦇 Final Part
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written for week 2 of the @steddiemicrofic july challenge
prompt: years | wc: 444 | rated: T | tags: post Vecna, Eddie lives but no one knows, Steve refuses to give up hope despite everything, second chances, open/ambiguous ending | also on ao3
To everyone else in the room, he’s just a guy on a stage. To Eddie, he is a harsh reminder of the reality he’s spent years trying to forget. A memory he never completely managed to erase, now suddenly breaking free from where it’s been locked away. Flooding him all at once with the sorrow and pain of another lifetime he never got to fully live.
“Hey, uh,” the guy says and clears his throat. “This is a song about missing something you never really had.”
On the first strum of his guitar, his eyes fall shut, like maybe it’s easier for him to pretend that he’s alone in the room. And then he sings, lips caressing the mic as they spill bittersweet words that feel like they were taken straight from Eddie’s own heavy heart.
It's unfair how at ease he looks despite the melancholy he carries through the melody he plays, the softness of his features clashing so violently with the image that's been imprinted on Eddie’s mind.
Because the last time Eddie saw him, he was dressed for war. With deep worry lines on his face, wearing a scatter of barely healed scars and bruises from earlier battles like medals of dishonour, determined to fight and win no matter the cost.
The last time he heard his voice, it almost got lost in the ringing echo of another, choked-up and trembling with anger, before it faded into a pleading whisper against his ear.
‘Stay with me,' he'd begged but Eddie couldn’t make that promise.
Not because he didn’t want to but because they wouldn’t let him. Patched him up and shipped him off to bumfuck nowhere. New identity, new start, new chance at life – that’s what they promised him in return for his silence.
It’s been so long.
But here he is, Steve, and it feels like not a day has passed since they last stood across from each other, despite the years so clearly visible on both their faces. One singing about loss, the other finding himself again after all this time drifting through a life that wasn’t his.
The song ends on a when not an if, like a happy ending is inevitable.
And finally, their eyes meet.
To everyone else in the room, the guy smiling back at him is just one in a crowd of many. To Steve, he’s the missing piece to a life that never felt complete without.
There he is, Eddie, with tears in his eyes but alive. Just like Steve never gave up believing he was.
And now that he’s finally found him, he won’t let him slip through his fingers again.
Written for the second of the @steddiemicrofic 3rd year anniversary celebration prompts, years | WC: 444 | Rating: T | CW: Yearning, feelings denial, hurt/delayed comfort, open (but optimistic?) ending | Tags: Post-S5 where Eddie lives, older Steddie
Steddie masterlist | General masterlist
He’s not seen him in years. His hair’s shorter, conditioned now with a few silver sparkles, but still as wild as he remembers. His eyes crinkle at the corners, but their deep ochre shimmers just as brightly. And his grin has more lines at the sides, but it's still that unmistakable smile that enraptured Steve so long ago.
The Hawkins outcast made it big. He moved as soon as he could, using the little he inherited from Wayne to kickstart his music career, leaving Steve to pine into his coaching manuals and imagine ‘The Freak’s the one yelling inappropriate comments during his sex-ed classes.
Except, it wasn't really Eddie who did the leaving, was it? Steve may not have physically departed, but he was the one who created the distance.
Sure, they hooked up a few times. No biggie, Steve told himself. Shutting down, he decided that Eddie only asked him to come with him as something to say instead of ‘thanks for the fucking, see ya’. It occurs to Steve now that he never actually answered, just scoffed and walked away.
But no matter how he reframed everything, it never eased the sting of separation from the first bright and beautiful thing he'd ever felt. Never stopped him from wondering what if he'd agreed, what if he'd eschewed the employment-matrimony-offspring pipeline.
Now, two kids and a divorce later, he never imagined Dustin's spawn’s wedding reception would be where they'd collide again. Apparently, Carl’s a metalhead who begged his dad to ask the Eddie Munson to play some songs.
Eddie’s of course gone one better, bringing the whole band. They're used to playing stadiums, but seem entirely comfortable setting up on the venue’s small stage like it's The Hideout, bantering with staff and taking the numerous double-takes and requested selfies good-humouredly.
The gang flashes horns and waggles tongues, and there's much reminiscing. Steve watches, wondering if there's even a place for him here; does Eddie even remember him?
His question’s answered when he looks over just as Eddie plugs in his Warlock, as vibrant as ever, if a little dinged around the edges. Just like Eddie. There's an electrical hum as the jack slides home, and Steve feels similar, familiar static buzz through his entire body as Eddie looks up, their gazes locking for the first time in a quarter-century.
It's almost the end of the night when Eddie's finally free enough to catch Steve at the bar, tentatively sitting next to him and ordering two glasses of champagne. He slides one across to Steve and leans in close, a familiar, husky voice murmuring,
“Hey, sweetheart. So, did you make up your mind yet?”
Thanks so much for reading! 💗💋
Steddie masterlist | General masterlist
A/N: Of course Steve moves in with Eddie and goes on tour with the band and they adopt older kids with special needs and three four insane dogs and live their golden years together and happily ever after *nods* And yes, Dustin's son is named after Carl Sagan.
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Eddie raids Steve’s parents’ liquor cabinet, gets drunk and starts rattling off all the things he likes about Steve. Steve laughs it off at first, assuming it’s a bit but Eddie doesn’t stop.
written for ‘years' | wc: 444 | rated: m | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, post-canon, eddie lives damn you, mention of sexual content, age difference (but like, the idea of it)
@steddiemicrofic
“Holy shit.”
Steve frowned at the license in his hand, unable to look away. He’d just wanted to see Eddie’s new picture, but all he could stare at now was the tiny little date.
1965.
Eddie whipped around, curls flying. “What? What happened?”
“You’re older than me.”
“...Yeah?” Eddie raised a brow, plucking his license from Steve’s fingers. “Did you forget?”
And, well...yeah, Steve kinda had. Eddie had been right in the trenches with them, before he and Steve decided to try out the whole “relationship” thing instead of pretending it was just sex. And before that…
“You were in school with the kids, and you graduated with Robin…” Steve trailed off, because Eddie hadn’t said anything and when Steve looked at him, he regretted every word out of his mouth.
Eddie had his hair in front of his face, voice small as he said, “Okay, you don’t have to rub it in.”
“No! No, I wasn’t—Eddie,” He’d started to pull away, but Steve reached for him, hoping he’d let Steve close, to wrap his arms around his waist and put his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.
And Eddie did, shifting back into Steve’s chest.
“It’s been years since all that shit, right? You’re so much better than all of it.” Steve nuzzled into Eddie’s hair, tightness in his chest loosening when Eddie hummed soft. “And fuck it I care if you’re a little older, you’ve got everything I want. Man of my dreams, y’know?”
Eddie huffed, raising an arm to thread fingers through Steve’s hair. Stayed a moment, dragging his nails along Steve’s scalp until Eddie spoke.
“You got a little thing for older men, Stevie?”
He was only teasing, Steve knew, but he still blushed hard. Eddie was good at that.
“No, I—It’s not like you’re ten years older than me, Eds.”
“Still older,” he sang.
Steve tightened his hold around Eddie, always eager to push back. Too eager to know when he maybe shouldn’t.
“What, you want me to say that I used to stare and fawn over you?”
Eddie went quiet, peering over his shoulder as a teasing expression turned to one more curious. A bit too knowing.
“Did you?”
Steve swallowed. “I-I didn’t know why.”
Not until after years of horror and ego-breaking trauma to get through his thick skull.
“What’d you want, baby?” Eddie tightened his grip on Steve’s hair until his lashes fluttered, voice gone low, sultry. “To meet up in a classroom after-hours, and let the older boy teach you the finer points of sucking cock?”
Steve could hardly breathe; all the blood had gone to his dick. But he found some way to answer.
You have to have a job to make money. You have to have money to go to Europe. You have to have a job to make money. You have to -
Robin keeps telling herself this.
She repeats it when she's cold. She repeats it when her feet hurt. She repeats it when the nautical music playing over the speaker starts permeating her dreams. She repeats it incredibly hard when she goes into the back of Scoops Ahoy for her lunch break and five minutes into it -
"I need you to cover."
Her food isn't even finished heating up in the microwave, "I’m on br-"
"I need you to cover," Steve says, not even stopping in his stride across the room and out the back into the hallway.
"Un-fucking-believable."
She almost doesn't. She almost sits her ass down and eats her lunch but, "You need to have a job to make money. You need money to go to Europe."
She abandons her lunch and walks to the front. Her frown twists in disgust, "What can I get you?"
"Not gonna take me for a sail on an ocean of flavor, sweetheart?"
Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow and states, "You're smudging the glass, Hargrove. What do you want?"
"Where'd Harrington scurry off to?"
"I recommend USS Butterscotch," She states. "It's a big hit with Neanderthals."
"Harrington is-"
"We don't allow loitering," She talks over him. "If you're not ordering than you need to leave before I have to call mall security. You don't want that because Greg - the mall security officer - he hates being called because the, you know. Lack of air conditioning. Puts him in a bad mood and-
"Okay," Billy says, already annoyed by her yapping. She keeps talking until, "Okay! I’m leaving. Tell Harrington that I'll see him around."
Robin watches him go.
She frowns.
Her eyes dart around the mostly-empty shop and then she pushes off the counter. She goes into the back, past her lunch cooling in the microwave, through the door.
She doesn't have to go far to find Steve.
He's sitting on the ground with his elbows rested on his knees. His hands in his hair. He's breathing in a familiar way, measured and intentional.
Robin slides down the wall beside him.
She stares ahead.
She chews on her bottom lip and thinks to say something but - they're not really friends. They're barely coworkers. They started two weeks ago so...
"He tried to kill me."
"What?"
"Hargrove," Steve clarifies to the wall in front of them. "Last year with, you know. The fight. He was. Yeah, he probably would've killed me if - and."
He tugs on his hair, takes a deep breath, "He's such a dick. I hate dealing with him."
Robin watches Steve stand up. She watches him brush off his clothes and say like nothing bad has ever happened, "Thanks for covering. I owe you one, Buckley."
Steve's baseball team decide that they want to play a prank on their coach.
They get shirts screen-printed with Steve's face on it and something silly he always says, and then they all wear them to practice. They time how long it takes Steve to notice (nine minutes and only because the team had a bad case of giggles).
It's a funny prank.
Steve gets a kick out of it.
Unbeknownst to Steve or the team, the guy who made their shirts is an old friend of Eddie 'left Hawkins and got famous' Munson.
It was a known secret in Hellfire that Eddie was crushing bad on King Steve so he sent Eddie one of the shirts.
Imagine Steve confusion when he flips the tv over to MTV and sees his old classmate being interviewed...wearing a shirt with his face on it.
There's a number at the bottom of the screen that you can call to ask Eddie a question.
Steve calls.
Before the interviewer can finish saying, "We have someone on the line from your homet-"
"Why are you wearing a shirt with my face on it?" Steve asks. "And would it kill you to answer the phone when Dustin calls you? Or call him back? The kid misses you."
Now half of America thinks Eddie is a deadbeat father.
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for @corrodedcoffinfest million words celebration!
also on ao3
rated t | 2248 words | no cw | tags: established steddie, band breakup, birthday party, marriage proposal, grieving a loss of a future that never was so the future that was meant to be could exist and other such dramatics
🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻
There’s a million reasons that things didn’t work out for them. They argued about everything, had no money, their van broke down too much, and they never quite understood what sound they wanted as a group to name a few.
But they wanted it. God, did they want it.
Wanting it wasn’t enough.
Eddie always thought if they wanted it bad enough, and worked hard enough, they’d get there. Turns out, you need a lot more luck and hope. And talent. That, too.
He’s not an idiot, or oblivious. He knows they’re good for Hawkins, maybe even Indiana. But they aren’t “go to California on a dream” good. They probably never will be.
And now they won’t.
Steve wraps his arms around him from behind, kissing his neck and then his shoulder, resting his nose against his pulse.
“You should come to bed, babe,” he whispers.
He’s right. He’s barely slept for days, and getting into bed and cuddling up to Steve will help his morose mood. It’s just that he’s twitching to grab his guitar and write something. He’s dying to get in his van and drive to Gareth’s house a mile up the road and come up with a new plan that’s doomed to fail. It’s a habit now, one that’s going to take a while to break now that they aren’t a band anymore. Not officially, anyway.
“Eddie? You okay?” Steve asks, voice louder now, laced with concern. He picks his head up, but Eddie quickly reaches back to tug him back into place.
“Don’t let go,” Eddie tells him. “Stay.”
And because Steve is an angel, and Eddie doesn’t deserve him, he does. He doesn’t ask any questions or try to say anything to make him feel better. He doesn’t push him towards the bed to try to make him sleep. He just holds him.
Eventually, Eddie turns in his arms and cups his face, kissing the corner of his mouth and giving him a small smile.
“Can I play you something?” Eddie asks.
Steve grins. “Always.”
He plays for a while. Too long, going off the yawns Steve tries to hide after a few songs. He’s slowly sinking down into the bed while Eddie strums and hums, occasionally pausing to write in his notebook.
Eddie plays until Steve’s asleep, light snores coming from where he has his face buried in the pillow. When he looks up, he finally notices Steve wearing his cropped Corroded Coffin shirt.
It makes him cry. He’s quiet about it, not wanting to wake Steve and see that worried look on his face again.
He wishes things turned out better for them. He wishes that Steve was visiting him on tour instead of sleeping in a trailer he promised he’d never come back to. He wishes he could say he accomplished what he set out to do, just one time.
—
He writes songs often, but the inspiration isn’t there. It’s harder without Gareth banging on his drums, trying to find any beat that works with the melody Eddie has in his head. They could try Gareth coming up with a beat first, but that’s just not how they do things.
How they did things.
Eddie looks around the record shop. He doesn’t mind this job. The owner’s pretty cool, knows a lot about every genre of music. He plays guitar and bass, too. Sometimes on payroll days, he sets aside some time to jam with Eddie after they lock up.
It’s fun as far as minimum wage, unskilled labor goes.
Jeff comes by every Friday when he’s done with his classes, flips through the new releases, even if he doesn’t like the artists. He just likes shooting the shit with Eddie. They’ve always been like that. Even when they argued about band stuff, they’d find common ground with something else.
Gareth practically lives at the trailer on Sundays, a desperate attempt to escape his own house. His grandparents visit every Sunday and turn it into a miserable place. Eddie doesn’t mind. Steve gives them space for hours before he usually yells for them to come eat. He always gives Gareth a long hug before he leaves, like he knows that Gareth’s grieving, too.
Frankie mostly makes Eddie come to him, but he doesn’t mind. He knows it’s because he had a falling out with his parents and doesn’t want to step foot back in Hawkins if he can help it. He’ll go wherever he has to to see his friend.
But it’s tough not getting together anymore. He wishes they could all just hang out, not as a band, without the pressure, without the commitment. He wants them to be friends again, real friends.
He just doesn’t know how to make that happen.
—
“Cake is in the oven. Wayne will be here in ten to help me set up the tables and chairs. Robin’s got beer. Don’t ask me how,” Steve shakes his head as he runs down his checklist for Eddie’s birthday party. “Dustin might be late. Said he’s bringing his girlfriend and she takes forever to do her hair.”
“Sounds familiar,” Eddie teases, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and kissing his neck. “You want any help?”
“It’s your birthday, you’re not allowed to help.” Steve turns to kiss his cheek. “You should go get changed, though. Pretty sure Gareth said he was coming early to avoid his grandma asking if he’d found a wife yet.”
“But he doesn’t even have to lie anymore!” Eddie groans, throwing his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’ll go. You wanna help me?”
“You don’t need my help to get dressed,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“But I could use help with…other things…” Eddie wiggles his brows and winks. “You said for my birthday we could-“
“I know what I said. I meant after your party,” Steve’s face is bright red as he looks back down at his list. “Plus, I’m not wearing that under these clothes. I’ve got too much to do still.”
Eddie smacks a kiss to his lips and rushes off to get ready for his party.
Everyone’s coming.
Even Frankie.
It’s not the first time they’ve all been together since the band broke up, but it’s the first time it’s happening under Eddie’s roof. It feels like there’s more potential for something to go wrong here.
It’s the biggest party he’s ever had for himself, but 30 is a big number according to everyone who cares about him. There’s a cake that Steve made sitting on the table surrounded by cards and gifts from everyone who loves him.
Jeff, Gareth, and Frankie are all standing together on the porch. They’re not arguing as far as Eddie can tell.
He joins them hoping it stays that way.
“There’s the birthday guy!” Jeff slaps his shoulder, nearly spilling the soda in his cup when he does. “Heard we’re cutting the cake in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, Steve’s got a pretty strict schedule for that apparently,” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. He’s never been much for a schedule, but it makes Steve happy and he’s a big fan of that. “Enjoying the party? Need anything?”
Gareth snorts. “It’s your party. We don’t need you to take care of us.”
“I know, but-“ Eddie freezes. He swallows back the sudden lump in his throat.
The final thing, the one thing out of the millions of things that ruined their band, was no doubt that Eddie could be a little overbearing and overprotective about them. He wanted things to work so badly. He pushed on things he shouldn’t have because he thought it was best for all of them. He turned down things that the others wanted to do because he thought it wouldn’t be right for their sound. He fought with Frankie to protect Gareth, he fought with Gareth to protect Jeff. He fought with Steve to protect all of them.
In the end, he tried to be too in control.
Happens to all the greats, right? It’s just not a good story when you aren’t great first.
“I know.” He says again. He gives them a smile before he rushes off to find Steve. They don’t stop him. He’s sure his realization was written all over his face.
When he finds Steve, he’s pacing the kitchen floor, Wayne trying to calm him down about something quietly. It’s a bit unnerving for a birthday party, especially when everyone’s outside.
“Steve?”
Steve’s head snaps up and over to Eddie, eyes widening comically. Wayne mumbles something about idiots and walks out the back door to rejoin the party.
“Hey. Everything okay? Cake in a few minutes,” Steve says, plastering on a fake smile. Eddie steps closer, watching the way Steve’s hands are shaking as he tries to shove them in his pockets.
“I’m good. Are you okay?” Eddie cups the side of his neck, searching his face for any other clues about what could possibly be wrong. Could he be sick? He mentioned a headache yesterday, but he seemed fine this morning.
“I’m good! I promise,” Steve reaches up to wrap his fingers around his wrist, smile changing to something more comforting and real. “Are you happy?”
The question isn’t entirely unusual, but it still makes Eddie worry again.
“Of course I am. You brought everyone I love together and made my favorite cake. And we’ve got naked plans tomorrow. How could I not be?” Eddie tries to push his worry away as Steve leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
It’s probably nothing. Steve’s a bit worried that the weather won’t hold up for them and he doesn’t want everyone in the house, so maybe that’s what he’s so riled up about. Wayne was probably just offering to help bring stuff inside if the storms start earlier than they’re supposed to.
“Good. That’s all I want,” Steve kisses him again before he leads Eddie back outside.
He brings him over to the cake and yells for everyone to come sing. He didn’t think people did that for adults, but he goes along with it because it’s entertaining watching a bunch of mostly tone deaf adults try to sing together. He’s beaming by the end, almost forgetting he needs to blow out the candles until Steve nudges his arm.
When he blows them out and turns, Steve’s not there.
Well, he is there.
He’s just not standing up.
He’s on one knee, holding a very simple silver band. Everyone around them is quiet.
“I knew you weren’t just throwing a birthday party!” Eddie laughs, leaning down to tug Steve up off his knee. It’s his bad knee, because he’s an idiot. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Let me say this.”
Eddie grins at him. “Carry on.”
“I know life’s been different than what you wanted. You hoped to be the next big rock star and it didn’t work out. You didn’t wanna stay in Hawkins. You probably didn’t even think you’d end up with me, but here we are,” everyone laughs as Steve smirks. “I think we’ve got a pretty great thing going here. Even when it’s not perfect, and when we still hope for more, we’re together. That’s enough for me. And I’m hoping that maybe that’ll be enough for you, too. We can’t file the papers to make it legal, but Wayne’s already got a speech ready for us to get married right here in this backyard someday if you say yes.”
Eddie wipes a stray tear from his cheek. “You have to ask me first.”
“What?” Steve’s brows raise before he realizes. “Oh. Right. Eddie, will you please spend forever with me? Wherever that may lead us?”
“Yes. Of course I will. I’d follow you anywhere.”
Everyone cheers. They kiss. It’s like a movie if movies ever showed the kind of love they have.
“Best birthday ever?” Gareth claps him on the back. His girlfriend is standing off to the side. She looks like she was crying. “Guess that puts more pressure on me, huh?”
“Guess so. Surprised you needed any,” Eddie jokes, turning to give him a hug. “Surprised she’s waited this long.”
“I’ve got a way with my hands, what can I say?”
Jeff playfully shoves him and fake gags. “Sure you do. Congrats, Eddie. Steve’s been stressed about this for months.”
Eddie turns to see Wayne hugging Steve close, patting his back.
“He should’ve known I’d say yes,” Eddie smiles fondly as he turns back to them.
“He’s just worried about tying you down for real,” Frankie says as he steps closer. “You’ve never been much for staying in one spot forever.”
“I don’t mind if it’s with him,” Eddie admits. He’s not even lying.
Saying yes doesn’t really change anything for them. They’ll wear rings, have a little ceremony in their backyard, maybe they’ll refer to each other as husbands with their friends. But they’ve already been living together for years, seen each other through so much. They make plans together, they pay bills together, they struggle and win together.
He doesn’t think he’d have that if he had become a rock star. Sure, Steve supported him while he tried. He probably would’ve stuck around for a while if they’d made it. But who knows what would’ve happened a year down the road. Two.
There’s a million reasons why things didn’t work out for the band.
One of them is so he could have this life, this future with Steve.
Prompt #13- Atari | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Mentions of Period Typical Internalized Homophobia, Mentions of Recreational Drugs & Alcohol, Teen Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Blow Jobs, Time Jump, Pre-S1 to S4, Secret Party Hookups
1983
The door closes, and Eddie hears fingers twisting the lock on the knob. He freezes, joystick in hand.
When Steve Harrington turns, they lock eyes, and Steve jumps. Eddie laughs. It's ridiculous. Like a skittish cat. If cats were dressed by their mommies in dorky khaki pants and tucked-in polos.
Harrington's face is a little flush, like he's been drinking. Smoking. Something. Eddie sold out of his stash fast tonight, even with the rich bitch premium he adds on for these parties.
Because these kids have loose wallets, spending daddy's money, and Eddie definitely takes advantage.
He also takes advantage of Harrington's queer proclivities. Harrington can deny it, can chase girls all he wants, but if Eddie hangs around long enough, at least fifty percent of the time, Steve will strike out with all the girls and come find Eddie instead. Too many times to be considered an accident, or a mistake. Still, Eddie has no illusions about what that is, or means. He knows he's a dirty little secret, but he still likes it when it ends up that way any given Friday night.
Eddie holds up his hands, joystick still clutched tight.
"What the fuck are you doing, Munson?" Steve asks, as if it isn't obvious.
"Playing your Atari. What the fuck are you hiding in here for?"
Eddie has hopes, but it's honestly too early for that. The party is still too hot, with too many people still here.
Still, Steve sits on the edge of the bed next to him, "It's just a lot tonight."
Eddie nods, and hands over the joystick, "We could take turns."
And Steve smiles, unpausing the game.
Eddie is between Steve's spread legs, and Steve is yanking at that helmet of hair of his, stomach tense, pulled taut. His hair looks better all messy, hot, just like the dark hair that's coming in all over his stomach and chest these days.
"Fuck," Steve whispers, and Eddie lowers his head again, bobbing up and down. He hasn't sucked many dicks, mainly just Harrington's these days, but he knows he loves it. The taste, the smell. Steve's dick is big, and he's clean. That last one isn't always a given, so Eddie has absolutely no complaints.
Steve's watching him tonight. Usually he has an arm slung over his eyes, like he can't bear to look at Eddie being the one that is unraveling him. He knows Steve isn't very in touch with how he feels about men. Or, at least how he feels about Eddie.
Eddie gets it. He'll get there. Or he won't.
"Oh, god," Steve says, and comes, his whole body tensing.
Eddie swallows.
When Eddie pulls back, he wipes the back of his hand across his swollen lips. With his other hand, he reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. He's hard, fucking rock solid, and he can't help giving himself a few strokes through the rough denim. It wouldn't take much tonight. He could get there with very little elbow grease.
Usually he takes care of himself in a bathroom, or in the dark van.
"Hey! Stop that!" Steve snaps, and Eddie looks up at him, startled by the outburst.
"What?" Eddie asks, and Steve's hand finds Eddie's elbow, squeezing, trying to make him let go.
"You said we could take turns. It's my turn now," Steve says haughtily, and Eddie releases his own cock, stunned.
That's not. They don't.
Well, Steve doesn't.
"You're gonna…?" Eddie trails off.
"If you stop jerking it, I was planning on it, yeah," Steve says, bitchy, like Eddie has inconvenienced him terribly.
Well, in that case.
"Have at it, Harrington."
He's never done it before. Eddie realizes that quickly.
Harrington is enthusiastic, but there's no skill to speak of. But he isn't a quitter, Eddie will give him that. Steve keeps bobbing down, too deep, and coming up off coughing. It's not a good blow job, but any blow job is better than none. Eddie's no fool.
Eddie reaches down, and gently guides Steve's hand to the base of his cock.
"Here," he says softly, "use your hand and just focus on the head."
Steve nods, and when he goes back in, it's much better. He can lay back and enjoy it now, and when he gets close, he warns Steve.
Harrington is brave, or dumb, and takes it in the mouth.
Then, he freezes. Mouth full.
Eddie holds out his hand, and Steve spits into it.
"Thanks," Steve says, sheepish. And Eddie just shakes his head.
1986
"Oh, fuck me," Eddie groans, as Steve Harrington kneels between his knees. Sucking his cock. Squirreled away from the rest of the group. Forearm pressed against Eddie's stomach. The pressure is nice, even if it blocks his view a little.
Sometimes, Eddie felt like he'd made it all up. Another story he was telling, if only to himself. Harrington started dating Wheeler and that was that. He never sought out Eddie again until now. Never even glanced his way, leaving Eddie unsure if it had ever really happened.
Tonight, he knows he didn't dream it. They've done this before. And the motions don't even seem rusty.
Something must've snapped in Steve when Eddie had held him hostage with that broken bottle. Clearly. Eddie was out of his mind with fear, and hadn't even registered who he had a hold of.
Steve Harrington.
And now here they are, again. After all these years. And fuck if it doesn't feel goddamn amazing.
When Eddie comes against Steve's tongue, Steve pulls off. Looking at him.
Eddie holds out his hand.
Steve gives a silent laugh, air puffing out of his nose, and then he swallows.
Eddie smiles, cupping the side of his face, rubbing his thumb against Steve's cheek. This has been a bad fucking day. The goddamn worst of his life.
But Steve's here again, and he never imagined that would ever happen. And there's really only one thing to say:
"It's my turn now."
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! 🦇
It’s obvious I have vacation because I’m posting two days in a row! Here is Steve drying Eddie’s hair because Eddie refused to wash it so he can retain his metalhead look.
I’ve sadly felt my fixation on Steddie slipping, but I’ll be damned if I let it completely fall off. I don’t want it to, damn it >:(((((((
Post-s4 where Eddie and Steve get close enough that Eddie starts poking fun at Steve for wearing tighty-whities. Steve knows that they've kind of been dancing around each other for a bit, so he takes the opportunity to make a move himself.
The next time Eddie comes over, he's lounging on Steve's bed when Steve comes out of the bathroom and says "Oh, I finally got some new underwear, by the way. Since you thought the others were so lame."
When Eddie looks over he falls off the bed because Steve is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of white, lace panties. Steve grins and watches Eddie scramble to right himself.
"They're still tight and white," Steve says as his hands slide down to rub over his hips, "but I think they're much better than the other ones, don't you?"
Eddie isn't able to say anything in response because his eyes are locked onto Steve's crotch, on that beautiful panty-wrapped dick, but he somehow manages to nod.
Steve tuts and motions for him to come closer. "You can't see them properly from over there, silly. Come get a better look."
He watches Eddie swallow hard, and then his dick kicks under lace as he watches Eddie start to crawl across the floor. His face almost reverent when he finally places his hands on Steve's thighs, his voice rough as he gives a soft "Please..."
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘years’ and @runninriot
Title from "Chasing Shadows" by Imminence
wc: 444 | rated: T
tags: POV Eddie, Eddie is a mess, Steve is bad at flirting | [AO3 link]
He's pacing.
He's made so many rounds through the small hotel room that he's starting to worry about getting a surcharge for wearing it down too much.
The thought makes him stop, eyeing the window instead. Not for the first time, he considers just bolting, opening the window and climbing out, skipping town, never looking back. The room is on the second floor, but the balcony next door leads to the fire exit, he could totally do it. And even if not, falling to his death currently feels preferable to waiting for Steve and that girl.
Fully aware that he's a weak, weak man for Steve, Eddie still questions his sanity.
What was he thinking?
Nothing. That's the problem. He was not thinking when Steve talked him first into agreeing, then into organising a hotel room and waiting there. Shirtless, Steve had suggested, said the chicks, especially that girl he wanted to bring, were crazy about his bad boy look, his tattoos, that he should show them off, make her see all of them as soon as she entered the room.
And Eddie could not think.
Not with how Steve touched him, first his arm, caressing each bat, then trailing one nail oh so softly over his chest, barely more than hinting at the demon's existence there.
But it was enough to make Eddie short circuit. His ability to create thoughts reduced to providing an assortment of lewd things with Steve as the star and the only shred of being a civilised human that was left solely focused on keeping it in his pants, on not jumping Steve in front of the kids waiting in his van.
So, no, Eddie did not, could not, think in that moment. He's also not sure how, or even if, he got everyone home safely, but he must have or he would have heard from Steve.
And somehow, he thinks, that would be preferable to waiting for what felt like years in this damned hotel room. Waiting for Steve, and a girl Eddie has no interest in, only to get a few more glimpses of Steve, to hear him make those sounds again. That and the hope that, maybe, if Eddie was lucky and careful enough, he'd even get to feel Steve himself this time. Just for a second and it would be worth it.
The door opens, just as Eddie starts pacing again, stopping him dead in his tracks, to look at– only Steve.
Where's the girl and why is Steve looking at me like he wants me?
"No girl, and I do," Steve answers the questions Eddie was not aware of speaking aloud. "Is that okay?"
