#stevexeddie

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

Somehow, she always got the most attention.

Steve got an A on an assignment? Too bad his sister needs help with a school project.

Steve made Capitan of the basketball team? Well his sister needs mom and dad’s attention right now.

Eventually he just stopped bringing up his achievements, to anyone really. Kept everything he was proud of and happy about to himself, didn’t wanna bother anyone with it.

So of course when Eddie finds a letter on their counter addressed to steve from his dream college he worries. What if Steve didn’t get in? Did they reject him that badly? Was he embarrassed by the fact his dream school didn’t want him? But nope! Once Eddie opens the letter he sees the word “congratulations!” In big bold letters at the top of the page.

He sits there for a moment, a little confused but then Steve walks into the living room. He’s tired from a long shift and wants to just sit down and relax when he sees Eddie staring at him slack jawed and holding his acceptance letter

“When…when did this happen?” Eddie stutters, still processing this whole situation

“Oh…a couple weeks ago. I was gonna tell you tonight. It’s not that big of a deal honestly” Steve says sheepishly

“Not a big deal!? This is huge baby! You got into your dream school! How are you not jumping at the chance to tell people?!” Eddie says, waving the letter around

“I didn’t…I didn’t think it mattered that much” Steve says, looking down at his shoes and fidgeting with his vest

“Baby, why on EARTH would you think that? I am so unbelievably proud of you. You’ve worked your ass off for this.” Eddie says softly, placing his hand on Steve’s jaw

Steve looking at him with wide eyes, no one had ever really told him they were proud. So as the words left Eddie’s mouth he felt tears well in his eyes

Eddie pauses, seeing the tears about to spill from his boyfriend’s eyes and smiles “baby…I’m so proud of you, you did so good” he says, pulling Steve into a warm hug

Steve can’t do anything as the tears fall down his face, both happy and sad as he lets his face fall into Eddie’s shoulder.

They’re gonna need to have a long talk about this

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Steve: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

after the end of season 4, eddie doesn’t die in the upside down, and many many years later, he and steve are dating.

Over the last week, while lying in bed curled into each other, while eating breakfast pressed as close as they could manage, while snuggled up for yet another movie night, they talked about it, discussed how they'd break the news to everyone.

They knew Robin would be easy, accepting, because, well, the whole lesbian platonic soul mate of it all.

They had a hunch Will would feel some sense of relief, belonging, acceptance in himself and they hoped the young Wheeler would experience the same.

They knew it'd be okay, but there was always that itching nerve of anxiety saying, 'What if?' 'What if it's not okay.' 'What if it's really not okay and they'll never see any of their little nuggets again because they're too disgusted to even look them in the eye?'

But they had to tell them. No two ways about it. They had to tell them or someone was going to find out on their own and shit would hit the fan.

But firstly, they have to tell Dustin.

So here they sit in the Harrington house, Steve and Eddie side by side on the couch mere inches apart as Dustin sits on the coffee table in front of them, waiting and impatient.

"So? What was it you two were wanting to tell me?"

The two eldest boys turn to look at each other.

Steve, nerves evident on his face, brow furrowed, cheeks tinting red, bottom lip worried between his teeth, he sighs, shakey, scared and too fucking nervous.

And without even thinking, without even caring that Dustin's literally a foot in front of them, Eddie reaches out. Because he has to, because his boy is scared and it's crushing him to not be holding him right now. His ringed hand moves to Steve's thigh, giving a gentle squeeze before shifting his grip to take Steve's hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

Steve tenses for a moment, eyes flashing to Dustin before he looks to Eddie and visibly relaxes, shifting closer, thigh now pressed to Eddie's, slouching with relief.

Dustin's eyes are wide, darting between the two men and their clasped hands. They can see the nerves creeping into his expression and suddenly this feels so much harder but before they can manage words, Dustin speaks, "Oh my god, is someone dying? Are one of you dying? Steve, do you have butt cancer? Oh my god. Oh my god, you're dying."

The kid shakes his head, hand moving to remove his hat and tug at his curls, " We can't do this shit without you. We'd be a wreck. You're like the best thing that's happened to us. You're like the Party's weird mom. You're getting treatment right? Is it going okay? Is Eddie driving you? Eddie, are you driving him? Are you taking care of him? Please say you're taking care of him."

The two men look between each, their clasped hands, Dustin and his expression that's nearing tears. They're speechless. They try to speak only to be interrupted. "I'm moving in, I'll help, I'll cook, I'll clean. Well, Eddie can cook and clean and I'll keep you company. Be the comedic relief. We can plan your funeral together. Do you want to be cremated? Or a rotting corpse in the ground for all the rodents to eat? Do you-"

"Dustin," Eddie carefully speaks

"Do you want me to-"

"Dustin," Steve repeats his boyfriend's words

"Shut up I'm talki-"

"We're dating!" Steve and Eddie both say with a shout, lifting their joined hands shaking them in Dustin's face

The kid cocks his head to the side, brow raised in question, "So Steve's not dying?"

"No"

"And you're together?"

"Yes?" Steve says like he's not entirely sure. Which is dumb. Because he is. But he's still nervous of how Dustin is going to handle this type of news. It's not 'Butt Cancer' (Jesus Christ this kid,) nothing even close, but it's still news. Unexpected and scary to reveal.

"Are you asking me?"

"Would it be okay if we were?" Eddie, somehow the calm voice of reason in this situation

Dustin almost seems offended at the moment, a weird look of shock appearing on his face only just now, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Um, because that's gay?" Steve says, watching Dustin grimace at the remark

"And?"

"You're fine with that?"

"Well, Steve, does Eddie treat you well?"

Steve nods, kinda baffled by the whiplash of this whole conversation

"And Eddie, does Steve treat you well?"

"Yeah,"

"Well then, it's fine." Dustin slaps his hands to his thighs standing up from his position on the coffee table, a teasing smirk on his face, "Congratulations I guess. Just don't get Steve pregnant."

Eddie cackles while Steve sputters "That can't ev-"

Steve actually likes that Eddie smokes. Robin says it’s gross and he’s gross for liking it, but whatever. Robin isn’t the one kissing him. 

He likes that Eddie smells like tobacco and leather and sweat and motor oil (and sometimes weed). He likes sharing a cigarette with Eddie in bed late at night, wrapped in cheap cotton sheets, an ashtray perched on one of their chests. He loves the way Eddie’s eyes shimmer in the flames when Steve lights a cigarette for him.

Really the only problem Steve has is the way it dries Eddie’s lips out. And this is a totally solvable problem. Steve knows it’s solvable. He himself has solved it. But maybe Eddie never had to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Becky Molinczek in the eighth grade. Which was more like ten seconds of awkward kissing followed by five minutes of Becky lecturing him about the importance of lip care in making out while digging around in her purse for chapstick only to produce a cherry lip smacker she then demanded he put on if he wanted any more time in Heaven. 

That was the first time he’d touched an honest-to-God boob. Her left one. He was pretty sure it was mostly boob and only a little tissue. He still gets a semi when he smells fake cherries. 

—

He figures he’ll start subtly: making sure to put on some chapstick in front of Eddie after they stub out their smokes to head back into the Wheeler house. He smiles at Eddie, who leans in and murmurs “mmm, shiny” before stealing a kiss. Completely ignoring the black and white plastic tube Steve has proffered. 

—

For two weeks, Steve leaves chapsticks everywhere he can think of. There’s one currently melting in Eddie’s glove box. Another one is gathering dust on Eddie’s nightstand. He’d held his breath hopefully when Eddie’s hand alighted on the one in his guitar case, but he was moving it aside in search of a pick. Hell, Steve had even tucked one in the pocket of Eddie’s denim jacket when he kissed him goodnight last Friday. 

Eddie was impervious to subtlety. It was time to go full Molinczek. 

— 

Steve had Thursdays off, so he and Eddie had started having movie nights on Wednesdays. He honestly couldn’t remember the end of a single movie they’d chosen. The doorbell rang just as Steve is putting popcorn on the coffee table. 

Steve waits until Eddie is settled in, then climbs into his lap. Eddie holds him by the hips and grins. “Okay, Harrington. I guess we’re not gonna watch the movie after all.” 

Steve ignores him, leaning in for a kiss. While he’s got Eddie distracted, he reaches into the pocket of the jacket Eddie had haphazardly thrown across the back of the couch and produces a small plastic tube. Opening the lid, he breaks away from the kiss. 

“This, Edward, is Chapstick.” Eddie looks at him like he’s deranged. 

“Uh huh.” 

“It’s for your lips,” Steve continues, applying it to his own lips liberally. 

“I’m familiar.” 

“And you know, smoking really chaps your lips,” Steve levels a look at him, holding his eyes for a moment before leaning in to plant a deep kiss on Eddie’s mouth, spreading the balm across Eddie’s lips. 

When they finally break apart, Eddie grins up at him. “Please, for the love of god and my mouth, wear it.” 

“Only if that’s always how I get to apply it.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and starts to say something, but it’s cut off when Eddie yanks him forward and kisses him again.