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lxvvie · 6 months

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On today's episode of Simps-R-Us: A Drunken Mind Speaks Sober Thoughts, or how your faves show their love after a night out.

cw: alcohol/alcohol consumption.

Capt. John Price - Will gently hold the sides of your face, bring your foreheads together, and peer into your eyes with his own hazy ones. Price tells you how happy you've made an old man like him, that he loves you, and that YOU and only YOU can wear his hat. Solidifies this by actually putting his hat on your head, scooping you up in his arms, and holding you close. And yes, you'll be sleeping like this with your face smothered in his chesticles.

Gaz - Walks into your shared place pretty much blabbering about how you just... "get him". You get his choices in horror films, you get his thinking process, you get his love language (pranking), you just GET HIM. And he doesn't want anyone else to get him and he'll fall out of another helicopter again before he lets someone else get him. ...How did he wind up under the living room table, though?

Alex Keller - The one who's leaning against the bedroom doorway just looking all dreamily and shit at you with his hair all kinds of messed up. Keller is practically crooning 'Boss' at you so you can look at him and he can blow you a kiss. Alex, please get the fuck in bed. He chuckles and shakes his head no 'cause he's too busy enjoying the view and doesn't wanna miss a thing. KELLER, PLEASE—

Soap - (Based on this ask. Thanks for the inspiration, @cas-backwards-tie!) Soap loves you SOOOO much, so, so, so much, goddamnit, that he learned to say it. He learned the say the thing. Yeah... he didn't. It didn't even sound remotely like the thing but you can't tell him shit. Now give him a kiss for being a good boy. His kiss was nowhere near your lips, either. That'll do, Soap. That'll do.

Ghost - Is the clingiest koala bear on the fucking planet and it's adorable. How clingy, might you ask? Well, his arms are wrapped around you, he has your head tucked under his chin, and he's intertwined his legs with yours. You feel the throaty rumble of "Love you" from Simon's chest and it lulls you to sleep. And then you realize he still has his clothes on. Try to move and see how he tightens his grip ever so slightly. You chuckle and let him know he has to undress and to that, you hear and feel the soft grumble of his "Noooooo...." because don't go. Not when he just got you. This shit is one for the storybooks, though. Simon fucking Riley... WHINING?!

Alejandro - His hair is also mussed. Isn't as stern-looking. Actually has the goofiest, boyish grin on his face. Alejandro pretty much strokes your cheek and tells you verbatim that you make him a better man. Then he proceeds to cover your face in kisses, all while relishing in your giggles.

Rudy - The one who tripped over his own two feet trying to get to you, also missed the mark when trying to kiss you, and fell off the bed. Also falls asleep mid-sentence when trying to tell you he loves you.

König - You actually woke up to hearing König profess his love. Has a tendency to really enunciate Schatz in a somewhat singsong voice. Sings a lullaby in his native German. He tells you he loves you, and over and over again he confesses his love. Then you look up and see him actually cuddling the pillow tightly. Oh. Okay. How cute. You just sit and watch the entire thing. You know like hell König will be mortified when you tell him this story.

Horangi - He'd already come home and settled down for the night. Then, as if he had an epiphany, Horangi sat up from his side of the bed, got all up in your face, and told you how he'd go through hell as a gambler over and over again just to be with you over and over and OVER again. That's so sweet, Horangi, now back to bed you go.

Graves - The one who'll serenade you (Graves can sing?), call out for his Darlin' repeatedly, burp, and tell you he loves you all while in the bathroom taking the longest piss known to man. Good to know, Graves.

Valeria - Actually came home a little pissed because some stupid fuck thought he could talk about how attractive he found you in front of her. Hopefully the broken jaw sent a clear message because she couldn't be bothered to do anything else. She ends her story with a "You're mine!" and plants a big, fat one on your lips. Oh, Valeria.

Roach - He's the one blowing your phone up with text messages and emojis showing his love. Then he reveals that he got lost and could you please come find him? Except he's already in the house. You find him in the dark, grinning like an idiot at the messages he sent you on his phone, and he's so happy that you found him!

Keegan - Is the one staring into your soul after he kissed your forehead so sweetly. You okay, Keegan? "Yes. No. ...Maybe? Baby, jus' let me love you."

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medusaspeach · 1 year

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Nymphs, satyrs, and the ancient art of the kegstand. 🌿 twitter 🌿

#greek mythology #dionysus #satyr #character design #greek gods #sketch dump #medusa's peach #nymphs just wanna have fun #cw: partial nudity #cw: alcohol

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ominouspuff · 4 months

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Trading jedi-general shenanigans with the squad

Another what-if AU where order 66 gets outmaneuvered and they all get to wear cozy sweaters together

#fan art #artists on tumblr #star wars fanart #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #commander fox #commander cody #commander wolffe #commander bly #commander ponds #fix it au #Night on the town after the war #Telling that one story about your Jedi general during the war #And an embarrassing misuse of mystic Jedi force magic stuff #cw: alcohol

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mellodillo · 4 months

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faceoff 🐑🍻🐺

#lanolin the sheep #whisper the wolf #cw: alcohol

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friendof-blahaj · 4 months

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anime better stop making alcoholism so hot

#drunken ramblings #hiroiposting #cw: alcoholism #cw: alcohol

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 25

part 1 | part 24 | ao3

cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use

“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.

Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?

Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.

Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—

“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.

“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.

“S’nice.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."

"Mmh?"

"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.

Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.

"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.

"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.

"Mornin', sunshine!"

"Jesus Christ!"

Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."

He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.

“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."

“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."

Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."

Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, Stevie."

Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.

Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.

Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.

Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.

"Ask me," Eddie whispers.

"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"

"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.

There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—

"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.

Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.

But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.

Great.

—

part 26

gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic #cw: alcohol #cw: drugs

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vecnuthy · 9 months

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Steddie first kiss scenario

Accident: mistaken identity due to Steve being absolutely hammered | wc 893 |

Two hours into a Harrington house party, Eddie was getting near the end of his inventory and his social battery. The cup of punch-colored alcohol he'd been nursing had kept him nice and fuzzy for a while, but with the end in sight, he dumped the rest down the kitchen sink, tossed the cup in the trash, then turned, opting to walk out the back yard rather than navigate through the packed house.

But his progress was stopped in an empty hall by the man of the house himself, Steve Harrington.

A very drunk Steve Harrington, at that, considering the extra droop of his pretty eyes, lazy smile, overly loose movements, and the way he crashed into Eddie, pinning him against a small table, slurring loudly, "Nance! There'y'are."

He looked and smelled absolutely sloshed as he swayed further into Eddie's space.

"Steve, wha-"

"Been loogin for y' everywhere."

Before Eddie could even do anything, Steve's hands were buried in his curls and pulling him in until their lips met and - wow, that was definitely Steve Harrington's rum-soaked tongue in his mouth, making his stomach swoop, the heat from Steve's flushed face igniting a fire that tore across Eddie's skin, burning faster with every movement of Steve's lips. Lips that were soft, unlike the fingers curling, pulling Eddie's roots enough to make Eddie's hips press into Steve's, make him want to moa-

"You taste different. Like smoke and.....and peaches, hv'you been smoking?!" He frowned and shook his head. "S'not good for you."

He paused in thought as Eddie's heart hammered in his chest, mouth and scalp tingling from Steve's onslaught. His brain refused to make sense of anything happening. Were he not half propped up by the table against the wall and Steve's hold, Eddie would probably be on the floor.

"Wanna smoke now, achlly," Steve said as he put enough space between them to pat at his pockets before realizing with a laugh, "Oh wai', you've got 'em!"

He started patting at the pockets of a very shell-shocked Eddie as he continued to ramble, "And peashes. Where'd you ge' peashes? Y'llergic to the fuzz. You 'idn't eat that, d'you?"

Steve patted a little too far over the front of his jeans, making Eddie, honestly on the verge of blacking out, yelp. Steve giggled out, "Ticklish," then added, "You're taller," before pouting, "Ugh, your pockets 'r so full. When d'you put jeans on?" Steve let out a frustrated whine before huffing, "God, I can't find'em, just - "

Steve paused then smiled like he remembered the secret of life, and muttered, "You've got the smoke."

And just like that, Eddie's face was smooshed between Steve's hands, breath barely ghosting over Eddie's lips before he breathed Eddie in, eyes closed, probably imagining nicotine flooding his system.

Eddie would make a run for it if he were able to move, but he couldn't will his body to do anything but buzz from shock yet sing for Steve's touch.

Steve opened his eyes, and he took a long, glazed-over look at Eddie's face, settling on his lips.

"You kind of look different. Your lips....they're bigger." His eyes closed slowly then grew comically large. "D'you eat the fuzz, Nance?!" Steve panicked, then looked Eddie in the eyes again, and took a shuddering breath. "Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like -" Steve's face softened "- like his."

"Steve?"

To Eddie's immense horror, a very confused Barbara Holland had appeared behind Steve.

"Barrrb! Hey, guess what? Nance's been smoking!" he giggled.

"What?" Barb's eyes flicked back and forth between a very panicked, frozen Eddie.

"She tastes like smoke! Nancy Wheeler, smoking!" He cackled gleefully, but made it known that he was proud of her by turning back to Eddie and slurring, "You're so cool, 's like it's Halloween. Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby." And he swooped in and kissed Eddie one more time.

"Okay, Steve!" Barb shrieked and pulled him away. "Let's get you some water!" She shot Eddie a wide-eyed questioning look and steered a stumbling Steve toward the kitchen.

"He's so wasted, he thought I was Nancy!" Eddie rushed out quietly, which made Barb snort.

Eddie's face burned, numb to everything except where Steve had touched him. Which was kind of everywhere, actually, so he felt on fire. "And it happened before I could even- I didn't know what to d-"

"Eddie!" She cut off his rambling, then sighed. "Don't worry, you're fine. You're fine. Understand?" She was waiting for a response.

Eddie, head still swimming, nodded cautiously.

"Good," she said, letting some of her tension melt away, which Eddie tried to copy. "Doubt he'll remember any of it, anyway. I know I don't want to."

Eddie winced at that.

"No, it's not you, it's just-" she huffed then shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Drive safe, Eddie."

And just like that, she was gone.

Eddie followed suit with Steve's voice echoing in his head, an overlapping manic cacophony of

"Your lips....they're bigger."

"Your eyes, though, they....th' look, look kinda brown like...like his."

"Dressed up like Munson? Y' look so cool, baby."

Two kisses because Steve thought Eddie was his girl.

And her best friend had seen the second.

Actual fucking kisses because Steve thought he was his.

Thought Eddie was his.

Said he tasted like smoke and peaches.

Eddie drove home in a daze.

#eddie: just gonna head out #steve: my girlfriend! who's suddenly taller! with brown eyes! and in jeans with /full pockets/! look SO good #steve: like eddie #eddie: 👁👄👁 (404 not found)#barb wasn't a fan of steve's #barb goes missing from the harrington house two weeks later #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #cw: alcohol

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

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safe like a pinky promise

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is protection'

rated m | 2,744 words | cw: alcohol, steve is drunk, minor violence (mostly just the threat of violence) | tags: protective eddie munson, protective steve harrington, post breakup, getting back together, exes to lovers

####################################

In hindsight, Steve should’ve been smarter about coming to this bar alone.

He’d only ever been there with Eddie and his friends, and while they weren’t the most popular, people knew not to mess with them or anyone with them. Without their protection, without Eddie’s protection, Steve was kind of asking for trouble.

Especially when he showed up already drunk, causing a scene at the bar in the middle of Corroded Coffin’s set.

He’d been having fun, or trying to, at his house with Robin. But when her parents called and insisted she come home, she left him with a buzz and a loneliness he couldn’t do anything else with.

He missed Eddie. He’d fucked up so bad and now he had to miss Eddie forever. Or maybe not forever. Maybe if he just showed up to support him like he used to, maybe if he bought him a drink and asked to talk, maybe if he kissed him in the bathroom and asked him to come home with him…

The bar was packed, way busier than it ever had been before. Most of the crowd was younger, but definitely older than Eddie and the band. He could see some older guys in the back corner and the regulars at the bar.

The room was spinning as he tried to get eyes on Eddie. He just needed to see Eddie.

Eddie was on stage, the poor lighting doing a shitty job of making him look like the star he was. Steve would need to talk to the owner about that soon. His boy should shine.

Well, he wasn’t really his boy anymore, or ever. That was the problem.

Steve had run. Despite Eddie always insisting that he was a runner, Steve had been the one to book it the moment Eddie wanted things to be more serious.

Even Robin told him it didn’t make sense. Steve was the commitment type, craved permanence from someone in a way that most people their age didn’t even think about.

The moment Eddie offered that to him, he left.

He regretted it every moment since.

Eddie’s voice filled the bar, the drums and guitar of his bandmates loud enough to make the walls shake. It was all Steve could focus on.

He didn’t know how people were having regular conversations right now.

“‘Scuse me!” Steve yelled to the bartender, who was pouring a beer from the tap. “Did you guys not know they were playin’ t’night?”

He could kind of register that he was slurring his words a bit, but couldn’t do anything about it. He hadn’t been drunk in a long time, he forgot the way his head buzzed when he was.

“They play every Tuesday night, son. Why?” The bartender handed the beer

Steve wasn’t usually an asshole, not anymore. If he was, it was unintentional.

But this was about to be very intentional.

“So you just expect them to sing on a dark stage?” He managed to not slur too much that time, wanted to express how serious it was that Eddie wasn’t getting the right treatment. “How’s he sposed to be a rockstar?”

The bartender crossed his arms, unamused at Steve’s questioning.

Steve didn’t care. Eddie deserved better than a half-assed attempt at a bar.

“He’s so good! And you don’t let him be.” Steve wasn’t sure if that made sense, but the bartender seemed to get it.

“Listen, kid. I dunno who served you before you got here, but you’re not gonna cause a scene, alright? Just go get some fresh air and wait for your friend.”

“He should have better lights!”

A man at the bar stood up and took a step towards Steve. “Hey, you heard Ernie. Go get some fresh air before you do somethin’ stupid.”

Steve should probably listen. Robin would tell him to listen.

The bar was suddenly very quiet, the music on stage paused and voices of people nearby so quiet Steve couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Why was he even mad?

He looked over to see Eddie on stage, looking around the room with his eyes squinting.

Right, the lights.

“He’s gonna be famous someday and it won’t be because you helped. Maybe you should buy a-” Steve felt his stomach turn. Shit. “A um.”

The man across from him mistook his stumbling over words and fists as a threat, and before Steve knew it, he was pushed against the wall by the bar.

“You listen here, kid. Don’t know why you showed up already so drunk, but you best leave before this turns into a serious problem. Ernie does these boys a favor lettin’ them play for tips at all. Start causin’ a scene, they won’t be able to come back, ya understand?”

The hand balling up his shirt was large, and the man’s face was red with anger.

Steve never backed down from a fight though.

“If nobody stands up for them, they’ll just keep playin’ for free. This place doesn’t even get people like this unless they’re playing.”

Just as Steve closed his eyes and expected a fist to the face, he was released and fell down against the wall. He looked up to see Eddie, guitar slung over his back, talking to the man who was holding him against the wall.

He couldn’t really hear what they were saying, too distracted by the way Eddie’s curls framed his face. They were always perfectly messy, falling in a way that would probably look terrible on someone else. But it was Eddie, and everything looked good on Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice brought him back to earth and he suddenly realized the entire band was standing behind Eddie, and all eyes were on them.

“They don’t even know you’re a rockstar, Eds,” Steve whined. “I tried to tell ‘em and they thought I was gonna be a problem.”

Eddie waved the guys away, handing his guitar to Gareth before leaning down to help Steve to his feet. “C’mon. You’re drunk as shit.”

Steve couldn’t really argue with that, and arguing would maybe make Eddie take his hands off of him, so fuck that. Eddie’s hands belonged on him. 2+2 was four and Eddie’s hands should be on Steve.

“Eddie, they don’t even turn the lights on!” Steve fell against his chest, mumbling into his shoulder. “No lights!”

Steve breathed in Eddie’s scent, sweat and body wash mixed up just right to drive Steve crazy.

But Eddie didn’t do it to drive Steve crazy, not anymore. Not since-

“Did you drive here?” Eddie asked, luckily keeping his arm wrapped around Steve as he guided him out the front door.

“No. Walked.” For some reason, he felt chastised, like maybe Eddie was disappointed in him, but he didn’t know what for. Maybe drinking? But Eddie liked to let loose sometimes too. It wouldn’t be fair of him to judge Steve for finally letting go a little.

“You walked? From where?”

“My house.”

“Steve, that’s three miles away.”

“Is it?”

Eddie pulled him to the back of his van, leaning him against the back doors and taking a long look at him.

“Does Robin know you walked here?”

“She isn’t in charge of me, I don’t have to ask for fuckin’ permission-“

“Get in the van.” Eddie tugged him to the passenger door, opening it for him and waiting for Steve to get in. “Do you need help?”

“No. I can do it.”

Which was a lie, and they both knew it, but Steve was not about to admit out loud how little control he had over his own limbs.

It became clear the moment he tried to step up into the van and his foot missed making contact by a solid six inches. He would’ve fallen flat on his face if not for Eddie’s strong arms wrapping around him and lifting him into the passenger seat.

Eddie closed the door and got into the driver’s seat, not even turning the radio on as they drove. They were heading in the direction of the trailer park, not Steve’s house, and Steve tried not to feel smug about it.

“Why did you come tonight?” Eddie finally asked, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. “Why are you drunk? And why did I have to rescue you from getting another concussion?”

“I just miss you.”

It was simple. That’s what it all boiled down to.

Steve missed Eddie, missed being able to just show up for him when he wanted, missed playing with his hair when he was asleep because that was the only time he sat still enough for him to do it. He missed the way he kissed the freckle closest to his ear when he was trying to calm him down after a nightmare. He missed making him laugh.

“Steve, you-” Eddie sighed and turned the radio on. “You can sleep it off and I’ll bring you home in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep it off. I don’t want you to ignore me.” Steve crossed his arms, protecting himself from whatever words Eddie would throw at his chest. “I want you to miss me too.”

The turn into the trailer park was silent as Steve’s words surrounded them.

When the van was in park in front of Eddie’s trailer, he turned to Steve.

“I do miss you. I miss us.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him, but Steve could tell he was trying not to cry. “But I can’t talk to you about it until you’ve slept this off, okay? Whatever you’re feeling now might be gone in the morning.”

The adrenaline wearing off was enough for Steve to feel pretty sober, but he could still see double and the van felt like it was still moving under him, so he knew he was too drunk to have the conversation now.

“But in the mornin’?” Steve’s head felt heavy.

He was reaching his least favorite part of being drunk, the exhaustion phase, where every movement felt like it was in slow motion but the world around him was speeding by and his body felt numb. He closed his eyes as he waited for Eddie’s response.

His eyes shot open when he felt Eddie’s finger brush against his pinky.

“In the morning, we’ll talk. Pinky promise,” his pinky wrapped around Steve’s, squeezed, and didn’t let go.

Steve looked down at their joined pinkies, thought about how something so small made him feel so safe, and nodded once.

Eddie helped him inside, one arm around his waist and humming a song Steve vaguely recognized as they walked down the hall to Eddie's room.

“Couch?” Steve asked.

“Don’t want Wayne to wake you up when he gets home.”

Steve was helped out of his shoes and jeans and tucked in on his side of the bed.

He curled up under the blanket, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s shampoo on the pillow.

He drifted off to the warmth coming from Eddie’s side of the bed and the sound of Eddie humming that familiar song.

******

“...need ya to be careful, Ed. He really did a number on ya last time.”

Steve blinked his eyes open as he processed Wayne’s voice on the other side of the door, a voice he hadn’t heard in months. A voice that used to be warm and comforting for Steve from a person who placed his trust in Steve to not hurt his nephew.

“I think I did a number on him, too.”

Steve’s head was pounding, but not in the way of his usual migraines. He hadn’t been hungover in a long time, but he was quickly reminded of why he hadn’t bothered to drink in so long.

“I’m headin’ to bed. Be good to each other.”

Steve heard Wayne’s bedroom door close and Eddie’s door open. He didn’t pretend to be asleep, even though it would have given him at least another few minutes of soaking in this feeling of being Eddie’s before things turned sour. He looked at Eddie, who stood at the edge of his bed, his fingers curling around a loose thread of his blanket.

He was nervous.

He hadn’t been nervous when Steve broke his heart, he’d just been angry.

He hadn’t been nervous when they first kissed, he’d just been ready.

But he was nervous now and Steve knew that meant he needed to lead.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was rough, more than just the usual morning rasp from disuse. “Can we talk in bed?”

They were known to have nightly talks facing each other in bed, sometimes still sweaty and breathless from sending each other over the edge, the honesty easier when the outside world felt far away.

Eddie must have recognized Steve’s intentions as he got under the blanket, facing him in bed with a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve said again, barely more than a whisper.

“Hi.”

“Sorry about last night.” Eddie shrugged, but Steve pushed on. “I shouldn’t have gone to the bar at all. But I definitely shouldn’t have caused problems when I got there. I’m sorry I made a scene.”

“It’s alright, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand was inching closer to Steve’s between them. “Why were you drunk?”

“Robin and I were hanging out and she kept trying to bring up how I haven’t tried going out at all since-” Steve breathed out. “Since I ruined everything with you. And she said if I wasn’t gonna make it right with you, I should at least try to find someone who might make me happy. And I didn’t know who would! It was you for so long and you’re the only person who could make me that happy. So when she left I went from drinking a couple beers to drinking a few shots of the whiskey my dad didn’t take with him. And then I just…missed you.”

Eddie’s hand finally found Steve’s, his fingers curling against the back of his hand.

“I always miss you, but it was worse when I was alone and drinking. I was drunk enough to think walking to the bar was a good idea, which it clearly wasn’t-”

“I dunno about that. You’re in my bed again and that’s not all bad,” Eddie interrupted, a small smile threatening to break out into a much bigger one. “We aren’t doing anything else, but can I kiss you, Stevie?”

“Please,” Steve breathed out.

It had been four months, two weeks, and one day since the last time Eddie kissed Steve.

But this kiss felt like no time had passed at all, like they’d pick up exactly where they left off before Steve ruined it.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Eddie said against his lips, opening his eyes to see what was going on. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m just sorry that I let myself ruin what we had.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Eddie cupped his face in his hands, forcing eye contact. “You did screw up. I can’t lie and say you didn’t. You had every chance to talk me through what was going on in your head and work it out in any other way, but you didn’t. That hurt me, but it also hurt you. And I should’ve tried to talk after. I shut you out and didn’t leave much room for you to make it right. That part is on me.”

“It wasn’t up to you to-”

“No, it was up to us and we’re young and stupid and have no idea what we’re doing so of course we’re gonna fuck up. We can love each other and still be stupid sometimes. But maybe next time we won’t forget that we love each other, huh?” Eddie kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “Do you still have those thoughts?”

“Which ones?”

“The ones telling you that you can’t have someone who makes you feel safe.”

Steve looked at the only person on earth besides Robin who ever made him feel truly loved and protected.

He thought about how his last words to Eddie before last night had been spewed in anger, but were born of pain and mistrust in his own ability to be loved. He thought about how Robin told him the only way to be loved was to just let it happen, even when it was scary.

“I do still have them, yeah.” Steve leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips, soft and slow. “But you’ll protect me, right?”

“Every day, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #cw: alcohol #post breakup #getting back together

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