SUPERMIGHTYBIRD

don't give up on me yet - good ending

in my head, greg went to go find DJMM and tried to reboot the big guy to help him clear a path while he tracks down where cassie is underground (i turned "cassie never finding the big guy in the dlc" a set up in my head) while Vanessa tried activating the security nodes to get mxes back online again

I wanted freddy's claims that DJMM "is a friend" to pay off somewhere

Bitchy Steve is Eddie’s main argument against Steve being a bully. Eddie’s responding to people’s questions during a live stream Q&A and someone asks how Eddie dealt with bullying since he had said that he was bullied a lot in school.

Eddie gives his answer of not letting it water you do. His answer to people telling him to conform was to be weirder and louder than he was before. Eddie asks Steve if he had any advice.

Steve: As a former bully, punch them really hard in the face. It’ll really make them rethink things

Eddie: That’s cute, but you were not a bully, Steve. You were a mean girl

Steve: What’s the difference?

Eddie: A bully will beat you up. A mean girl will start a rumor about you behind your back. You hung out with bullies but you’re not one because you have never won a fight. You did convince the whole school that Randy Myers pissed the bed though

But then they go to Nancy trying to pry the information out of her, but she reveals that she has no idea what it is - ouch but what a relief. Next up is Robin who also reveals she has no idea, and then she joins in on trying to get it out of him.

With the girls on their side, Steve is slightly terrified, but still unwilling to give up the information. He thinks they’ll let it go… but then they’re showing up at his house suspiciously only for Steve to find out that they’re trying to find his birth certificate. That’s when Eddie gets roped into things.

And the thing about Eddie is that he’s curious of course. What could Steve’s middle name possibly be which is so horrendous he won’t even tell Robin? But he respects the man’s privacy. If he wants to keep it to himself then so be it… But Eddie wants to know.

So he starts developing his own plans - without telling the kids or the girls. He thinks getting Steve drunk or high off his ass is probably a bit too manipulative. But maybe he can gain the guy’s trust.

So he starts coming along, pretending like he’s going to help as the kids dig and dig for the information. Steve is always somehow there, even when the kids start looking through the records at the library because some of them needed a ride. But Eddie sticks with Steve, talking to him about anything other than his name - the kids are convinced that Eddie is doing a great job distracting Steve.

And maybe he is, but he slowly forgets any type of ulterior motives when he’s talking to Steve. It’s a blessing and a curse being in the presence of the man.

But then it happens. Steve casually invites Eddie to hang out sometime, and that’s exactly when Eddie will bring up the middle name thing.

The thing is, Eddie’s always complaining about Steve’s music. Steve’s a simple guy. He turns on the radio and listens to whatever it spoon-feeds him (pop garbage, according to Eddie). Steve likes the music well enough. He’s never really loved music, it’s just background noise. Hell, when pushed Steve couldn’t think of what his Vecna song would be. So to avoid Eddie’s gripes he relents and lets Eddie leave a couple of his cassettes in the BMW. 

At first, Steve only plays the tapes when Eddie’s in the car but as time passes something changes. Steve finds himself driving home alone, dreading returning to the cold and quiet halls he knows await him in Loch Nora. The radio isn’t cutting it when it comes to drowning out the background chatter and dread in his head, so he switches over to one of Eddie’s tapes. It makes him feel less alone. He can imagine Eddie’s ringed fingers tapping their way across the passenger door furiously to the beat of the song, and he doesn’t feel so alone. 

That’s how some of the tapes manage to migrate from his car to the tape deck in his room. When he plays them, he feels like the house comes alive, that he isn’t alone. He doesn’t tell Eddie, of course. He doesn’t tell anyone. One day he slips up while driving Dustin to Hellfire. 

He couldn't even stand up straight as he greeted his students, yawning as he greeted each student, leaning his entire weight against the door frame, getting a worried look from the English teacher, Nancy, as she caught his eye from down the hall, he gave her a small gesture, and a tired smile, hoping she'd understand it meant they could talk at lunch.

Steve was apologizing for his yawning the entire day, and sure enough come lunch there was rapid knocking just as the last kid had walked out, he was greeted by Nancy, and Robin, the music teacher.

"Steve, you look like death! Nance, you weren't kidding!" The two of them both took seats, in the closest student desks to Steve, who was mumbling out responses as he laid his head on his desk.

"Okay, spiiilllll." Nancy dragged on, drumming against the desk excitedly. Steve sat up, with another yawn, as he took a long sip from his coffee.

"Geez, did Eddie get home from tour, and forget it was a school night, you two must've had fun!" Robin wiggled her eyebrows at Steve, as Nancy giggled behind her hand.

"Ha-Ha, Buckley. But, sort of, NO- Not in the way you two think, get your head out of the gutter, Wheeler!" Steve pointed a stern finger at her, as she gave him a suggestive look. "He greeted me when I got home, we finished our fun pretty early, actually, I was ready to sleep like a baby." Steve recounted, as a blush began to run up his neck, at the thought of Eddie last night.

He cleared his throat as he continued, "Eddie, still jet lagged, got the great idea to invite his old bandmates over, and instead of practicing in the soundproof studio that we recently added, because it "wouldn't be the same, Stevie!", they practiced heavy f-cking metal, until 4 in the morning, in the garage, which is directly under our bedroom.”

The two girls let out laughs, and gave Steve a sympathetic nod. "So, I didn't get a wink of sleep, didn't even have time to pack myself lunch." Steve sighed as he looked at his watch, seeing he wouldn't have enough time to run into town to grab anything either.

The two girls stood, talking at the same time, "I packed some extra lunch," "You can share with me, I can't promise it'll be good, though.”

Steve stood with the girls, nodding along, as they made their way to the door to walk down to the teachers lounge. As Steve opened the classroom door for the girls, he was greeted by none other than the reason for his lack of sleep.

"Hey Sweetheart," Eddie greeted with a sweet smile, Steve groaned playfully, rolling his eyes, as the girls walked past the two of them, whispering to eachother.

"Oh! Don't forget how thin these cheap walls are, Munson!" Robin called over her shoulder, as Nancy let out another laugh. Eddie flipped her off, as he followed closely behind Steve into his classroom.

Steve sat back on his rolling chair, looking up at Eddie as he stood in front of Steve's desk. Eddie swayed back and forth, hands hidden behind his back. "I figured you probably didn't get much sleep last night-"

"Oh really? What gave it away?" Steve scoffed, taking off his round glasses, and setting them to the side.

"Well, you were grumbling all morning and threw all of your discarded outfit choices pretty roughly at my sleeping head today." Eddie listed off. Steve let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, humming in response. At this, Eddie moved his hands from behind his back, showcasing a brown bag. "So, I thought what better way to repay my honey, than to bring him a greasy lunch full of love."

Steve reached out happily, knowing he couldn't stay grumpy when Eddie was giving him those eyes. Steve began eating, as Eddie moved around Steve's desk, taking a seat on the desk in front of him. He messed with his rings, as he watched Steve hum satisfied as he took his first bite.

"I figured you didn't have time to pack a lunch, and couldn't have you surving on coffee the whole day." Eddie continued, and Steve gave him a fond smile, nodding as he swallowed.

"You saved me from eating whatever leftovers Robin had cooked up, and was going to share with me." Steve laughed, "Last time I ate what she made me, I had to use my precious Sick Days!"

Eddied joined in on the laughter, before hooking his heel around the arm rest of Steves rolling chair, and pulling him closer, so Steve was slotted between Eddies legs, Steve let Eddie pull him, resting his elbows on his thighs, as he continued to eat his burger.

Eddie began combing his fingers through Steves hair, humming along to a instrumental they came up with last night. "Missed you, missed us." Eddie said softly, as Steve finished his burger, throwing the wrapper back in the bag, and moving closer into Eddies touch, snaking his arms around Eddies waist. "Maybe you should've used more of those precious Sick Days, so you coulda stayed in bed with me."

Steve smiled, feeling his cheeks flush. "Couple more days, and then you'll be able to bug me all of Winter break, my love." Eddie sighed, cupping Steve's face, making him look up at him. Steve kept his eyes shut, soft smile on his lips. Eddie kissed both of his eyelids, then his nose, then his cheeks, before placing one lasting kiss on his lips. He pulled away, causing Steve to whine, chasing after his lips. Eddie smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to Steves again.

The two lazily kissed as Eddie sat on Steves desk, until the bell rang, and when Steve stood and tried to pull away, Eddie pulled him closer, bringing Steve's bottom lip into his mouth, Steve giggled, pulling back softly, not being able to fully talk. "Babe- Mph, I- have to open the-mMpH the door."

Eddie shook his head, humming disapprovingly. "Five more minutes", he begged against Steves lips, keeping his arms hooked around Steve’s waist.

"They'll start knocking", Steve protested, once Eddie released his lip, and leaned up to kiss the mole on Steves exposed neck.

"Let them." Eddie mumbled, and Steve realized he wouldn't win this battle, so he stood there, wrapping his arms over Eddies shoulders, as Eddie lazily kissed along his jaw, out of love, not looking to go any further, more of I missed you kind of kisses, because he missed being home, in Steve’s arms.

The knocking started, just as Steve suspected. Only getting louder, as Eddie protested. "Steve! Open up, my sister told me Eddie's here!" Steve could hear Mike yell through the knocking, he sighed, as he pulled away, and went to open the door.

"Michael, we talked about this- It's Mr.Harrington, to you, during school hours!" Steve corrected, Mike rolled his eyes as Steve used his full name. As soon as the door was opened fully, the kids started piling in.

Dustin, and Mike running up to Steve's desk, to bombard Eddie with questions about tour, and if the kids begged Steve to let Eddie talk about tour, instead of prep for their final (Mr.Harrington, this is geography, technically, it would work perfectly! I teach History, Lucas! Are they not the same thing?), no one had to know.

Steve really only gave in, once he finally looked at Eddie (oh, cmon Stevie, you'd get to sit back and rest for a class period). So, Steve sat back, and watched fondly as Eddie talked animatedly to the class, asking Steve to display each city Corroded Coffin played at, as he spoke about it, rating the city on his “Munson Scale”. Was it educational? No. Was it useful information? Also, no. Was it entertaining? Yes.

Steve tried to lay his head on his desk, and get in a quick 30-minute nap, but was too captivated watching his Eddie entertain his students, he couldn't focus on anything, not even feeling tired anymore.

Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.

Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.

He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.

It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.

To Steve, it’s just a mess.

“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.

He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.

Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”

“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.

Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?

“There’s nothing but lost movements.”

Guess he is.

Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.

“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”

“They’re not?”

“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”

Steve points at the artwork.

“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”

The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.

“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.

The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”

It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.

“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.

The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.

“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.

Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”

The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”

This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.

But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.

They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.

Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.

And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.

These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.

These are the untold masterpieces.

“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.

“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”

“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”

Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.

“What did you say your name was?”

The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”

“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”

They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.

But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.

He’s close enough to do it.

“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.

The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.

“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”

Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.

Steve doesn’t change his mind.

He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.

It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.

Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”

Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”

Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”

He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.

Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.

He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”

Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers: