sidekickjoey

[sidekickjoey]

Eddie doesn’t like spending time away from Steve. 

He’s fine during the day. He can do his job and chat with his coworkers and do what he needs to do without thinking too much on it, but there is nothing in the world that he looks forward to more than being able to come home every evening to the love of his life. Nothing more gratifying than being the person that makes Steve smile when he walks through their front door. No better feeling than Steve welcoming him home.

So call it unhealthy, call him whipped or codependent or whatever else, but Eddie doesn’t like spending extended time away from his boyfriend. Maybe it was the more-than-one near death experience, the nights they spent in hospital waiting rooms, not allowed to be at each other’s bedside, but being away from Steve, especially at night, makes him anxious. Makes his heart rate pick up and his palms sweat, makes him ruminate on whether or not Steve is okay.

So Eddie hasn’t exactly been sleeping. Or eating all that well. Not for the past three days, at least. Because Steve is at a teacher’s conference in Chicago for the week, only leaving under Eddie’s profuse and continued promises that he’d be fine. That Eddie can survive a week without him. 

Which he can. It just doesn’t mean it’s exactly pleasant. Especially today. Because Eddie has the day off, and there’s not much to distract him from the gaping, Steve-sized hole in it. 

He starts by doing the laundry. Washes their sheets. Washes every throw blankets and every towel, moves onto the kitchen while the washer rumbles and does all the dishes. He goes on the truly spiritual experience of cleaning their dishwasher. Which, why must things that do the cleaning need to be cleaned? He scrubs the grime from the shower and wipes the spit from the sink, vacuums the rugs and wipes down the windows, organizes their pantry and cleans out the fridge. 

By the time he’s done his fingers ache. His back smarts from where he spent too long hunched over their tub, and still he misses Steve. 

Who is coming back tomorrow. Late in the evening, sure, but realistically Eddie only needs to survive another 30 hours. 

Which is far too long. 

He considers baking something. Like those those blueberry muffins Steve likes so much, but Eddie just knows by the end he’d have shitty muffins and a dirty kitchen.

So he tries to read. Tries to play guitar and write some songs, tries watching TV and listening to music, even tries going on a walk to pick up some dinner he knows he won’t eat, finally taking Steve’s advice on fresh air to heart. But as the clock ticks on, the itch under his skin only gets worse.

Not even their nightly phone call helps. 

He can tell Steve knows something’s up, keeps reminding him he’ll be back tomorrow, that it’s just one more night, because despite Eddie’s best attempt at deflection Steve knows him far too well.

“Tomorrow.” Steve reminds him, again, at the end of their call.

“Tomorrow.” Eddie repeats. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Eddie misses his boyfriend. 

He tries to sleep. Can’t, of course. He tosses and turns in his bed and then tosses and turns on the couch with the TV humming staticky with whatever late-night garbage he has it on. 

And he just—has to do something. Keep occupied until the sun comes up and he can go to work and lose himself in whatever car some idiot brought in because he didn’t change the oil. Keep his hands busy enough to keep his mind busy, too.

He sits bolt upright. Remembers, suddenly, the bleach and hair dye he’s almost positive Robin left here. 

It doesn’t take him long to find. He’d organized them, without even realizing, nestled them between all of Steve’s bottles and jars and potions. 

Never one for instructions, Eddie remembers Steve mixing the bleach with something else before he smeared it over Robin’s hair. 

It was white. He remembers that much. Thick and gloopy. Like… conditioner?

He mixes the two together in an old Tupperware with a toothbrush, the smell sort of making his eyes water. 

He can’t see much of the back of his head, but he’s just getting the ends, anyways. 

Eventually the toothbrush becomes cumbersome, and he massages the last of it in with his fingers. 

He’s pretty glad that part goes quick because after a minute he can feel his cuticles begin to burn. 

He remembers Steve wrapping Robin’s hair in a plastic bag, and he finds one, eventually, has to fish out a crumpled receipt but sticks that over his head. And waits.

He forgot about the waiting part. That he’d have to sit here while the bleach did its thing and then again when he puts on the red. 

He sits on the toilet with the lid down, picking at his firey cuticles. The clock in the hallway reads nearly 5 a.m., which means Eddie has at least four more hours to kill. 

He goes through their drawers again, wondering if Steve maybe has a different color hiding around. He thinks green would be cool. Maybe pink.

But Eddie doesn’t find another color. He finds, instead, his sewing kit. And he thinks of all the goofy tattoos his has. The goofy tattoos he gave himself. His dice. His Tree of Gondor. His triceratops. And, really, how it’s a shame he hasn’t gotten one for Steve. 

He knows what he’s doing and where before he even has all the supplies, snapping a ballpoint into a small dish and sterilizing the needle with his lighter. He shaves his inner thigh and washes out the bleach from his hair, which is a little underwhelming, honestly, having done little to lighten his dark locks. 

He puts the red in regardless, puts his plastic bag hat back on and gets to work on his thigh. 

And that’s how Jeff finds him. Appearing, in Eddie’s bathroom doorway, two coffee cups in hand. He takes in the plastic bag, smeared with red, on his head, Eddie’s bald and inky leg.

Eddie has no idea what time it is.

He looks down at himself. “I think Steve is… 86% of my impulse control.” 

Jeff doesn’t say anything. Just rests the coffees on the sink and crouches to look at Eddie’s fresh ink. 

“Is that… hairspray?”

“Three puffs!” Eddie answers, a little deliriously, and dips the needle back into the ink to start the third said puff. “How’d you get in here?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the needle. 

“How do you always forget you gave me a key?” Jeff snorts, and then, a little softer, adds, “Steve asked me to swing by before your shift today, you know. Bring you some food.”

Eddie’s gaze flicks to the coffee as he dips his needle in again. “I only see caffeine, here, Williams.”

Jeff’s quiet for a moment before, “how about you finish that up, wash that dye from your hair, and then I’ll give you the food?” Jeff’s voice is still all gentle and obnoxious, and Eddie resists the urge of poking him with the needle.

But Eddie’s almost done with the last puff, anyways, and… breakfast does sound nice. 

“‘M almost done.” He mumbles. 

Jeff sits on the bathroom floor, sipping his coffee and watching Eddie finishes. Then he helps him untangle the plastic bag from his hair. Then makes sure whatever soap they have is unscented, makes sure whatever Eddie’s about to slather all over his thigh won’t turn it septic. 

Damn paramedics. 

In the shower, though, Eddie’s exhaustion starts to creep up on him. Four days with little sleep makes his eyelids droop in the warmth. Makes his shoulders sag as he washes the dye out of his hair. Makes his limbs heavy as he cleans his new tattoo, which, looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself.

A can of hairspray. Three puffs. 

Eddie towels off, only a little disappointed that the dye didn’t do much. He can see it, a little, but only if the light hits it just right.

Jeff’s waiting for him with a greasy breakfast sandwich and coffee, and Eddie bites into it before he’s even seated, moaning at the taste. 

“Jesus.” Jeff mutters, “let’s wait until Steve gets back for that, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t have the energy to bite back, just takes another bite before he swallows the first. “Fank ‘oo,” Eddie grunts, word garbled around egg and sausage and cheese. He swallows. Looks down at his hands. “For.” The skin of his inner thigh is pink. “Everything.” He takes another bite. 

Jeff smiles. “And miss whatever disaster just happened in your bathroom? Not a chance, Munson.” He puts down his coffee cup. “I did call you in sick from work today, though. Just so you know.”

Eddie drops his sandwich. “Jeff!” Egg flies across the table. “What the fuck!”

Jeff raises his eyebrows and dusts Eddie’s food from his shirt. “You can barely keep your eyes open. I’m protecting you from dropping a car on yourself during a tire rotation.”

Eddie swallows, hands already twitching, “dude. I’m gonna go insane here by myself.”

Jeff raises his other eyebrow.

“More insane.” Eddie corrects. His leg starts to bounce.

“Good thing I’m gonna be keeping you company, then.” Jeff leans back in his chair, picking up his coffee and tilting the styrofoam at Eddie. “Movie marathon?”

Between he and Steve they only have about three decent movies, but Eddie finishes his sandwich on the couch as Jeff fiddles with the VCR. 

The movie begins, and that wave of exhaustion returns. Floods him. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. He leans into Jeff’s side. Who isn’t Steve, but who smells nice. Like linen.

Jeff rests his cheek on Eddie’s head. “Sleep, man.” He mumbles.

So Eddie does.

He doesn’t know how long he was asleep. But he wakes to a hand in his hair. To fingers massaging his scalp, and he knows before he even asks. “‘Teve?”

“Hi, baby.” Steve whispers, his hand stills, and he pulls Eddie closer. 

Steve feels so good. Warm and strong and here and here. 

Eddie opens his eyes only to bury himself in Steve’s chest, his boyfriend falling back onto the couch to accommodate, his arms winding around Eddie’s middle. 

“I missed you.” Eddie murmurs, and breathes Steve in, presses his nose into his sweatshirt and curls closer, fists his hands into Steve’s clothes and holds on tight.

“I missed you, too.” Steve sighs. He sounds tired. “Let’s… not do that again.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Never again.” He agrees. 

Steve shifts, opens his legs so Eddie falls between them. “I played hooky on the all-hands luncheon today.” Steve admits, quiet. “Didn’t feel like sitting around with them all day when I could be here with you.” Steve’s hand returns to his hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “Did you… dye your hair?”

“N’ got a tattoo.” Eddie hums.

Steve giggles, and kisses the top of Eddie’s head. “I like it.” Steve’s fingers dance across his scalp, and Eddie never wants to go another night without this. 

“I like you.” Eddie volleys back, and he feels Steve laugh, feels it rumble through his chest because Steve is here and he’s laughing and then there’s another kiss placed on Eddie’s head before Steve murmurs, “I like you too, baby.”

My permanent tag list 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade

(Sorry taglist that you’re getting tagged late I’m still getting used to tumblrs new STUPID TAGGING SYSTEM)

#stranger things

[sidekickjoey]

Steve scoffs, his large, bare feet by Eddie's hips as he sits under him at the trailer couch, "Yeah, yeah, you love my meals. I think you're just obsessed with some onion and garlic."

Eddie can feel himself readying to pounce like a cat that’s sighted its prey. “But Stevie, it’s what you do with it!” He shrieks, pushing up on the balls of his feet to lunge over and tackle Steve back into the cushions.

The book Steve had been holding goes flying to the floor with a thud and Steve lets out a big oof when Eddie knocks the breath out of him as he lands over his middle, he gleefully glares down at Steve, “Got you now!”

Steve breathlessly giggles as Eddie sticks his fingers into his sides and proceeds with the Munson Tickle Attack. Squirming under him, he bucks and Eddie nearly goes flying to the floor right after the book, but Steve hooks one leg behind him and flips him over to land heavily on his back.

Eddie grunts and immediately rolls, trying to squirm out from under Steve to take back the upper hand. He nearly succeeds, but Steve suddenly sits heavily on Eddie’s lap, pinning his wrists above his head and stretching his torso to force Eddie down with his weight.

“Got you,” Steve breathlessly says, chest heaving from his exertion. Their noses nearly brushing, Steve’s eyes are close and intently trained on Eddie, the longer strands of his hair fall around them, creating a curtain, narrowing the world down to just the two of them.

Eddie licks his lips; they feel full and wanting under his tongue. “What’re you going to do about it,” he challenges.

He can feel himself growing hard underneath the soft meat of Steve’s ass and he grinds up just a fraction. Enough to tell himself that it’s barely noticeable.

Steve’s eyes darken and his fingers tighten around Eddie’s wrists.

Eddie moans, eyes fluttering close.

He wants Steve to push down harder, to squeeze harder. Anything to help relieve this ache growing in him, the compounding pressure building, threatening to crack across his body, distort and shake his frame apart.

Steve must hear Wayne approaching the front door before Eddie because his eyes widen in alarm and he quickly sits up, hand moving in front of his body before he flies to the end of the couch, a magazine suddenly open and in his lap.

Eddie looks at him from the end of the couch, still splayed out and uncomprehending until he hears the key in the lock.

Steve looks over at his still stationary body and hisses his name.

ShitFuckDamn.

Eddie flees to the bathroom.

His back hitting the door behind him, Eddie tries to figure out what the fuck all that was. His thoughts however are reluctant to turn away from the memory of Steve’s eyes burning into his, to forget the enthralling weight of Steve forcing him down, making him submit under his hands and body.

Eddie bites against a moan and hurriedly unzips his jeans...

Chapter

#stranger things

[sidekickjoey]

it’s monday i’m in the labyrinth

[sidekickjoey]

Eddie would show Steve real music this, Eddie shows Steve the wonders of Lord of the Rings that----I get it. But have you considered....... Steve gets Eddie into those ridiculous, smutty romance novels? The ones that even if they're bad, they're good. Have you considered Steve getting Eddie into the Indy 500? NASCAR? What about cooking shows? Cheesy soap operas where Steve literally knows every insane storyline by memory? WHAT ABOUT EDDIE GETTING INTO STEVE'S INTERESTS???

#stranger things

[sidekickjoey]

#stranger things

[sidekickjoey]

[sidekickjoey]

#stranger things

[sidekickjoey]

Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me

[sidekickjoey]

yet again i am Begging shows to diversify the names of their male characters. no this isn’t about steve or eddie or ed or buck or bucky. this is about tommy. i see so many tommy posts now and i get so excited to read something unhinged about my favorite problematic bisexual secretly pining after his best friend right under his girlfriend’s nose and instead it’s this very respectable helicopter pilot acting as a gentle bisexual awakening for a local firefighter. my wires have never been so crossed.

#deadass #like as a ST fan I’ve been so confused as of late

[sidekickjoey]

all u had 2 do is b cool and u ruined it

[sidekickjoey]

google search how to stop experiencing anticipatory grief when this world has taken so much from me already

[sidekickjoey]

hey hey hey

Assigning you a song that makes white people go nuts (from experience)

#Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison #solid

[sidekickjoey]

i PERSONALLY would like to FALL IN LOVE please!!!!!! and have the SAME PERSON fall in love with me BACK!!!!!!! could i get some MUTUAL AFFECTION out here!!!!!!!!!

[sidekickjoey]

friday night in your 20s be like: making some pasta. i need to rollover my 401k. when i was a kid i assumed i'd be married by now. does my new fake plant look classy. i think i have a yeast infection. do my cats understand me. ran out of capri sun. i should do laundry. and then you don't do laundry

[sidekickjoey]

And by the way, it would've been funny for you and Eric to be in cahoots on..eating popcorn. It's the meme. You guys would've been the meme of just sitting back eating popcorn. -Danielle

#boy meets world

[sidekickjoey]

235 FAVORITE SHIPS OF ALL TIME (ranked by my followers) 78. shawn hunter and angela moore - boy meets world

#always reblog #boy meets world

[sidekickjoey]

i think whats great about jeric show-wise is that its both of them that have their "gay joke" moment

because jack is the straight man to erics funny man so if eric was the only one moving jeric forward it could be taken as ONLY funny haha

but since jack also has his moments ("we already do that" "i still like him" "i thought nick was the cute one") and jack isnt the "funny man" (although i think jack is pretty funny at times) it can be seen as genuine. well. its supposed to be seen as funny because they are funny scenes but you get my point. the jokes are not one sided

#they're just two idiots going through a crisis #boy meets world