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dylanwritesgood · 2 years

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All your faith, all your rage | Chapter 8

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Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

Summary: Gareth is relearning how to deal with high school after sudden hearing loss, and Eddie sees in him another little sheepie to rescue. Set before ST4.

Pairings: Eddie Munson & Gareth Emerson, Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin, Gareth x Chance (one-sided)

Word count: 3,971

Warnings: internalized homophobia, extreme bullying, 80s psychiatry and autism, pathologization of neurodivergence, period-typical homophobia, hurt/comfort, autistic and deaf character written by an autistic and deaf author

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A/N: Things are still rough, but there's some bright spots, too.<3 Pay attention to the warnings, and if you don't want to read the rough stuff, dm/ask me for a tl;dr okay?

Taglist (message me to be added):

@andyquinn21

Things get worse before they get better. No one outright fucks with Gareth in the halls because Eddie follows him around the school like a guard dog, standing watch when Gareth opens his locker or has to take a piss or do anything where someone might take advantage of his vulnerability. Gareth’s temper burns short for everything else, because he’s pouring all his patience into waiting out the torment without rising to the bait. But someone carves that fucking word into the door of his locker and the laughter when he finds it is like nails on a chalkboard.

Now everyone knows, and the notes come every class. He doesn’t unfold any of them, just stuffs them in a pocket and adds them to the shoebox under his bed when he gets home. He knows what they all say, knows they’re all true, because he can’t make himself feel anything for a girl besides envy when Chance starts taking Monique Engels out.

At some point, Gareth stops talking. Eddie isn’t sure when it happened, looking back, he just realized that he hadn’t heard Gareth’s voice in a while. He’d never been particularly chatty, but he’d usually had something to say. Eddie didn’t notice Gareth folding in on himself, because physically, he kept showing up to Hellfire sessions and band practices and hangouts, but at some point, Eddie realized that Gareth might as well not have been there. He was just a ghost, moving through his routine like he was on a track, but never interacting with anything. It terrified Eddie.

He knew what depression looks like. He has been there enough times. The happy-go-lucky cult leader act was just that—an act. He pulled on that mask so his friends didn’t know how much he struggled sometimes. So to see it on one of his best friends? That hurt. So Eddie went behind Gareth’s back and called his mom. Gareth could hate Eddie all he wanted later, just as long as he was alive.

They get him help. Jan pulls Gareth from school one day and they drive the hour over to the city where Gareth’s audiologist is, and they see a psychiatrist. Gareth fills out sheet after sheet of questionnaires, nervous despite being told there wasn’t a wrong answer and he needed to be truthful instead of worrying what someone might think. The psychiatrist spends an hour interviewing Janet and asking questions about Gareth’s growth and behaviors when he was too young for him to remember.

Gareth and his mom go out for lunch while Gareth’s assessments (they’re not tests, they’re just assessments, he’s told) are being analyzed. When they get back, it’s Gareth’s turn to get grilled about his life and his thoughts while his mom waits in the waiting room. It’s quiet in the psychiatrist’s office and she speaks carefully to him and he keeps up well with his hearing aids.

He’s very careful not to mention a gender when the doctor asks if he has any romantic interests, and to explain, if he’s had any interactions with them, how that went. Not great, is the answer he can come up with. He doesn’t know how to explain what happened without outing himself, and what that book said about autistic people and homosexuality is still haunting him.

He does admit that he gets called slurs at school. That seems innocuous enough. Teens are cruel and just because he’s called that doesn’t mean he is that. The psychiatrist takes interest in that, carefully taking notes and nodding encouragingly as Gareth hesitantly explains that he… bumped into… another guy at a party and that’s when the deluge of harassment started, and yeah, it’s starting to get to him because it’s not like he did anything to deserve to be called that. He didn’t kiss the star quarterback of the school football team under the bleachers after practice like that other kid did.

“Do you think he deserved what happened to him for just kissing someone?” She asks, leaning forward in her seat and setting her notepad aside.

“Everyone knows you don’t do that,” is the best answer Gareth can come up with.

“If it was you, would you think you deserved what happened to him?”

Gareth shifts uncomfortably. Yeah. Yeah, he does think it’s exactly what he’d have deserved if it was him, because it’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong, he doesn’t need to be trained like a dog, swatted with a rolled newspaper, because he already knows it’s wrong. If you do something wrong, you get punished. But he didn’t do anything wrong, so he doesn’t deserve to be punished. He doesn’t say any of that though. Instead, he says,

“I guess not.”

She picks up her notepad again and takes a moment to review the page. She isn’t looking at Gareth when she says,

“Y’know, we still haven’t figured out what causes people to be gay. Some psychologists theorize some people are just born that way, like some people have red hair or are left-handed. It’s not common, but it’s just a genetic variation, they say. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Yeah, well, they used to beat left-handed kids into being normal,” Gareth mutters, and the psychiatrist looks at him over her glasses.

“You ever think there might be a reason people don’t do that anymore?”

Gareth hadn’t thought about it. Things were quiet for a moment as she looked through her notes. He breaks the silence.

“So if people are born gay… it’s like people being born autistic, right? Like… there’s still something wrong with m—them, even if they’ve always been that way.”

She doesn’t miss his near slip. “Do you think you’re autistic, Gareth?”

He wets his lips with his tongue and takes a deep breath. “My friend, Kim, she’s going to college to be a therapist and she sent me a book because she thought I should read it—Autism in Adolescents and Adults. I… do a lot of the things it talked about. That’s… that’s what you’re testing me for, right?”

“Rough read,” she hums, “Impressive you got through it.”

“You’ve read it?” He asks, hopeful. She points to her bookshelf and he spots the familiar spine amongst the other books on the shelf.

“I don’t agree with all of it, but I’ve read it.”

She can see his blue eyes are guarded. He wants to trust her, but he doesn’t, yet, so she pushes on, “I don’t think autistic adults can’t live on their own, or that they’re some big moral conundrum. I think we don’t understand what it’s like to be an autistic adult because the adults we know are autistic aren’t capable of telling us, and there’s a lot of more mildly autistic people who grow up and live their lives and never know that they’re autistic. I think that some autistic people do have delays or impairments in different areas of their lives, but I also think normal people do, too.”

“Do you think we need to be trained to do things the right way?” He asks. It’s almost a whisper, and his eyes are pleading with her.

“I don’t,” she says, and he breathes an audible sigh of relief, “I don’t think you need to be trained, Gareth. I think you’re capable of making your own decisions and seeking out help when you need it.”

They’re dancing around the issue, and they both know it. She can’t come out and say what’s on both of their minds, he has to come to her with it. All she can do is make space.

“You can say anything you want in this office, Gareth. The only person who will see my notes is me. If you have questions, you can ask them here, and nothing leaves this room. I’m here to help you, not hurt you.”

She thinks maybe she’s lost him because he’s staring at his hands in his lap and is quiet for too long. Just when she gets ready to close the session, he makes a confession.

“I wanted to kiss him—that guy I bumped into. He’s my neighbor. I’ve wanted to kiss him since he moved in, I’ve figured out. Took me a while ‘cause I’m not good at feelings. I didn’t feel that way at all when I kissed Kim—”

“Kim with the book? Who’s in college?” She interjects, making a note.

“It was last year,” he explains, “Seven Minutes in Heaven at a party. She was still a senior, and I don’t think she was planning on, y’know, doing anything with me. I think she nudged the bottle, actually, so I wouldn’t have to go into the closet with someone I didn’t know. I told her I’d never kissed anyone and she told me it was okay, because I was only fifteen and I didn’t need to meet anyone else’s expectations, but that she’d kiss me if I wanted so I didn’t have to worry about it.”

Gareth paused to take a deep breath, since everything felt like it was pouring out of him and he’d forgotten to breathe. “We kissed but I didn’t really feel anything and I thought it was because it was Kim and I didn’t have a crush on her like the rest of our friends.”

“But that guy, the one I wanted to kiss, he has a sister,” Gareth continued. Now that he started, he couldn’t stop all his hurt from flooding out. “She’s beautiful, looks just like him and plays on the volleyball team and I tried to have feelings for her. I mean, maybe I was just confused because a lot of people are beautiful and I mixed up thinking someone was beautiful with liking them, and I’d like her instead once I thought about it.”

“You didn’t, did you?” She prodded gently.

“I did not,” Gareth confirmed with an emphatic nod. It was the most certain she’d seen him all session.

“But then I got that book and it… it said that autistic people ‘engaged in homosexual relations’,” He made air quotes with his fingers, “because they didn’t know any better, and they had to be…”

“Trained,” they said at the same time. He finally looked up from his lap at her. No eye contact, she noted, but he faked it well.

“I’m starting to see a pattern, here,” she commented, “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fucked up.” Gareth laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it.

“I think it’s more that you read a book written by people who don’t actually know what you experience, and they’re just talking about what they observe in people who have the same condition as you, but are more severe. While I do not think you’re stupid, I do think you’re sixteen and not a psychologist, and that all was a lot to process on top of the rest of your life. And everything keeps circling back around to what you read.”

“What do I do?” Gareth’s voice was pleading again. I’m just a kid, I don’t know how to navigate this.

“Throw the book away. Forget what it said about people like you,” She says firmly, but then she softens, “Do you think there could be anything with this boy?”

Gareth shook his head vehemently. “He’s friends with the guy who started the… name… thing. That jerk’s been picking on me for years now, and the guy just… watches. And I know he thinks the same things about me even if he doesn’t say it, but I still want to kiss him.”

“Well, then we’ll work on making things easier where we can, okay? That’ll make the stuff we can’t fix easier to face.” She closed her notebook and gave him another once-over. “I’m gonna grab your mom, and we’ll go over the plan together, okay?”

A look of panic crosses his face. “Don’t tell her about—”

“Hey, nothing you say leaves this room,” she reassures him, and he lets her go.

Gareth goes home with a diagnosis of autism, major depressive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. He also goes home with a prescription for an antidepressant, one for an anti-anxiety medication, and a note to his school outlining his psychiatrist’s recommendations for how to best support him. They get his prescriptions filled on the way home and stop for ice cream, because Rocky Road makes everything a little better after a rough day. And when they get home, Gareth crashes hard.

But things do get better. The meds prop his mood up enough that he can focus on surviving the things he can’t change, like Jason, and making an effort on the things he can change, like his grades. He learns coping strategies from the therapist his psychiatrist referred him to, and teaches them to his friends so they can help, because they love him—even if they’re assholes who call his mom behind his back.

Winter break finally arrives, and so do the wayward members of Hellfire Club, and things start to feel okay again.

Winter break is a much-needed respite. Sure, Chance still lives across the street and is a painful reminder of what’s in store for Gareth come January, but all of Gareth’s freak friends are home and they rove the town like a pack of wolves. There’s more of them than there are the bullies, and Gareth gets a break from the torment, even when they run into Jason and his crew in their little Members Only jackets at the Hawkins winter carnival.

Before he sees the rest of Hellfire, Jason looks like he wants to start something with Gareth, but the words die on his tongue as the gang gathers at Gareth’s back, decked in leather and denim and studs, looking at him expectantly. He wisely decides to save his torment for the new semester in a few weeks. It doesn’t stop Eddie from feinting at Jason and eliciting a flinch, once Gareth has turned away. Just to return the favor. Even Jason’s friends take a step back and leave him standing alone.

Call them freaks if you want, but none of the Hellfire kids would step back toward safety if one of their own was threatened.

While Kim is in town, Gareth quietly shares what he’s learned from his, at this point, sprawling care team. She lets him snuggle in tight to her side and plays with his hair and presses kisses into his part as he talks because he’d mentioned once that she’s a safe person for him and he liked her affection. They both know there’s nothing romantic there, but he’s touch-starved and she’s happy to share. He casually mentions that he’d been talking about it with his psychiatrist, and it was funny the bottle landed on her at that party last year. She has the good grace to look embarrassed.

“I didn’t want someone to hurt you,” she admits, “You’re special and I didn’t want your first kiss to be some random drunk girl. Wasn’t even gonna kiss you, I just didn’t want them to.”

“How did you know it was my first kiss when you nudged the bottle?” He challenged, tone playful. She planted a smooch right on his forehead.

“Ah yes, my precious little socially-stunted sophomore was definitely an experienced kisser,” She giggled, “You’re too cute, Gare-Bear.”

Kim booped his nose the way she always does and he scrunched it up and gave it a wriggle.

“Been practicing those kissing skills on anyone pretty?” She asked, but noticed his mood shift suddenly. She could practically feel the anxiety in the room rising like a flood.

She backpedaled quickly, “Or not! Not my business!”

He never wrote about the bullying in his letters to her because he didn’t want her to worry about something she was helpless to fix. He also had thought they’d move on from tormenting him a lot more quickly, but they were still going strong. But if he couldn’t tell Kim, then who could he tell? She’s the first person outside of his care team to know.

“I like boys, Kim. Only boys. And, y’know, that’s not exactly something to… talk about, here.” He drew his shoulders in, getting small like he felt he was. “Something happened around Halloween.”

And so he told her everything—how he felt when Chance moved in, how much it hurt when he realized that he’d never even had a shot at getting to know Chance, about trying to avoid him all summer when they lived across the street from each other, about trying to like girls, about the Halloween party, and all the torment that followed because Chance must’ve told Jason about Gareth’s split-second lapse of judgment and he’d been publicly branded a queer.

He also told her about how he couldn’t hate Chance, even though he had every single possible reason to and doing so would be self-preservation. He was scared of him, and knew that under no circumstances can he be alone with Chance or his friends. But he can’t let go, either. Moth to the flame.

She let him bury his face against her and cry while she held him tight. It wasn't fair, it wasn't his fault he can’t like girls. It wasn't his fault that Chance is beautiful and straight and Gareth is not so all he can do is cower and want and wait for when they finally manage to catch him alone to teach him a lesson. It wasn't fair that he’s just waiting to see if they manage to kill the queer this time, and he doesn’t even get a kiss for it. It wasn't fair that he’s resigned to his fate.

Finally, when he was all cried out, he made her promise not to tell anyone one else (“Not even my mom, because I know you all talk to her behind my back.”). She did and she took him home, hovering in the driveway until he got the front door shut safely behind him. She drove away slow and saw the neighbor boy shooting hoops in his driveway. Gareth was right—he’s beautiful. If only he knew what a beautiful soul he had longing for him to care.

Then she goes home and calls Eddie to yell at him for not telling her what was happening while she was away. And then she makes him swear up and down, swear on his precious Warlock, that he will not let Gareth out of his sight, not even to walk to his own front door.

Eddie takes it very, very seriously when Gareth admits he needs a little help with the coping strategies he’s been taught. Gareth doesn’t like the shame that settles in his gut and his cheeks as he explains what a meltdown is and what self-stimulatory behavior looks like and why he does it—according to his psychiatrist—but he tells him anyways. Having the language to describe it helps. Having a diagnosis helps.

What helps more is that Eddie is good at spotting triggers and warning signs. Sound isn’t a trigger for Gareth, usually (and when it is, Eddie reminds him to turn off his aids), but textures can be. Crowds can be. Light can be. Stress and anxiety are the biggest triggers.

Eddie’s not as good as Kim is at intuiting what Gareth needs and when, but he’s learning fast. In his defense, Kim has known for a lot longer that Gareth was different than Eddie has. And there are things Kim does to comfort Gareth that Eddie can’t do—at least not without spray-painting a neon orange target on Gareth’s back. Eddie can’t hold Gareth or play with his hair or do any of the things Kim does to keep the younger boy calm. Casual touching has to be so calculated.

Sometimes they can head off a meltdown when Eddie squishes Gareth back into his body. He learns to make it look playful—leaning his back against Gareth and squashing him into a wall (always smooth plaster or painted cinder block, never anything too textured) and pretending not to know where he is until Gareth is laughing and trying to squirm his way out. That helps stave off some of the more pointed slurs.

They find stims—like drumming his fingers—that don’t look too weird, or at least not weirder than normal. Those work for little emotions, and when they can keep the emotions little, it’s all Gareth needs. When he can’t and the emotions get too big and he has to resort to a more expressive stim, Eddie will go and make such a fool of himself that no one even notices Gareth shaking out his hands like he’s trying to dry them without a towel.

Chance is usually at the root of the big feelings, and there’s only so long that Gareth can keep hiding that before Eddie notices. He doesn’t say anything, but a half-formed thought that he can’t quite articulate huddles in the back of his mind—there might’ve been a reason why Gareth didn’t crush on Kim. But then again, it’s completely possible that Chance is the lingering reminder of threats and slurs, and Gareth can’t escape him because Chance lives across the damn street from Gareth.

School’s back in session and Kim’s gone so Eddie can’t ask her (at least not without racking up a long-distance phone call he can’t afford). He wishes she was still around, because he feels like Gareth’s just dissolved since she started college last fall and Eddie doesn’t know how to keep patching him up. Eddie knows engines. He knows guitars and amps. He’s even getting pretty good at wood shop, his second time around. He doesn’t know how to keep Gareth from falling apart.

The notes start back up the day they return to school—waiting on Gareth’s locker already by the time he gets to it first thing in the morning. He peels it open just far enough to confirm it is what he thinks it is. He isn’t surprised in the slightest when it is. He’s no longer phased by that word. Getting called that every day takes the sting off of it.

They change tactics. He starts finding newspaper clippings. Every one of them describes a hateful, targeted crime that happened to someone else like him. It’s unsettling, probably should be more unsettling than he feels it is. He’s just waiting at this point. They’re telling him what they want to do to him, and he can’t stop it. Maybe he should have just kissed Chance when he had the opportunity, just so he got something pleasant out of all this. At least then he’d have deserved it.

Someone breaks into his locker and drenches everything in it with pig's blood. Everything inside is ruined. No one will say who did it, so the school administration says their hands are tied. They sit the whole school in the auditorium for an anti-bullying presentation, and Gareth can feel everyone turning to look at him. At this point, he’d just like them to hurry it up and get it over with.

They stagger through the semester. Gareth is assigned a new locker, and that one is pried open and defaced. He stops keeping anything worthwhile in his locker. He gets cornered in a bathroom by a few members of the football team when he dares to go during class and Eddie wasn’t there to watch his back, snatched up by the front of his shirt and slammed up against the wall before Mr. Harris sticks his head in and tells them to knock it off and sends them all back to class. Even Eddie being around isn’t enough, anymore. Gareth gets tripped in the halls, gets shoulder checked, gets pushed.

At least spring break is around the corner, and he’ll get a week off from this shit.

#stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #gareth emerson #gareth the great #eddie munson & gareth #gareth & eddie munson #deaf!Gareth #disabled character #disabled author #gareth stranger things fic #hurt/comfort #hoh stranger things #deaf stranger things #all your faith fic

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stevebckley · 1 year

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Steve lost confidence after Nancy and now cannot comprehend blatant flirting. Like he can flirt with someone if he starts it but if he’s not initiating? He’s clueless.

The Corroded Coffin boys have a very unserious bet going to see who can get Steve to finally realize he’s being flirted with because Eddie’s been trying for months without success.

Gareth brings him homemade food and tells him how good he looks.

Jeff makes them learn his favorite song so they can play it for him on stage.

Freddie even brings him flowers and Steve just turned bright red and stutters out a confused thank you.

The three of them are at wits end after a few weeks and finally all traipse into Family Video when they know just Robin is on shift by herself to ask her what the fuck is wrong with him.

She laughs so hard she nearly falls off the counter. When she collects herself finally she explains that after everything, his idea of friendship includes all the this stuff.

Flower, and affection and attention? All things that Steve does for her and anyone he loves. Fuck, I mean they sleep in the same bed half the time!

“Honestly guys, short of someone marching up to him and telling him that they wanna take him out on a date and make out with him, he’s not going to assume anything.”

This leaves the group in kind of a state of confusion, Eddie managing to look completely lost in thought.

It all comes to a head during their next band practice.

Steve joins them like he always does when he doesn’t have work, letting himself into the garage and flopping onto the couch with Gareth and Freddie.

He automatically tosses his feet over Freddie’s lap, tucking his head into Gareth’s lap in a blatant excuse to let Gareth run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie is running late, so they’re all just waiting when Gareth can’t hold it in any longer.

“Are you as dense about people flirting with you as Robin says or are you deliberately ignoring it? I can never tell.” He feels bad now because Steve has stiffened under his finger.

“What do you mean? Who’s been flirting with me?”

All three boys start to laugh but it makes Steve shrink further into himself.

“No, no. I’m sorry, we are being assholes Steve. But honestly we’ve been flirting with you for weeks! Freddie brought you handpicked flowers, I’ve been making you cookies and Jeff serenaded you on stage!” Gareth is trying not to notice as Steve’s face flushes deeper and deeper. “That’s not to mention everything about Eddie.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, voice sad as he asks them if they only were being nice to him because they were flirting with him.

Gareth’s heart breaks a bit as he assures Steve that they were only really trying to make him feel loved and were being silly.

“We wouldn’t have done any of that if we didn’t wanna be friends with you, babe. You just get really cute when you’re flirted with and we’re all only men. Can’t resist a pretty face.”

Gareth is interrupted by Eddie busting into the room wearing a tee shirt that proudly proclaims ‘PLEASE MAKE OUT WITH ME STEVE IM VERY INTO YOU!”

Steve very easily pulls himself upright, launching himself into Eddie’s arms with a grin, dragging their mouths together in a very loud kiss that gets the whole room cheering.

“I’ve been waiting for you for months, Munson.” Steve says, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Gareth groans and throws a pillow off the couch, pegging it off Steve’s back.

“Don’t even act like he’s not been flirting with you for months! It’s not that man’s fault you’re dense!”

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #gareth emerson #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my writing #Steddie Drabble #Steve Harrington is dense #silly ficlet

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

------------------------------

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think #no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin'#because i think he looks like one #this is part one out of [undecided]#i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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little-annie · 20 days

Text

Gareth's POV

---

Eddie was acting weird.

And not his normal, kind of flighty, maybe a little sleep deprived thanks to childhood trauma and nightmares, weird.

No. He was weird in the sense that he hadn't quit smiling. And not in the sort of sinister, sort of menacing way he did when he was going to do something stupid or get into shit. No. He was smiling like Gareth had never seen him smile before. All dimples and fluttering eyes, catching himself with a giggle and turning away to shake it off as if it'd ever actually go away.

He looked happy, smitten if Gareth really had to put a word to it. Twitterpated, Love-Struck, Infatuated; if he had to put a few more.

It's a look Gareth had only ever seen in a smaller multitude when Eddie bought his Warlock those few years ago. And now, holding that same guitar, plucking mindlessly to a fucking Tears For Fears song, Eddie smiling like that, but ten fold.

Gareth has his suspicions, one much more likely than others. Maybe Eddie's high, maybe he finally passed Mrs. Click's class and hasn't told anyone yet, or maybe, the most likely of the three because Gareth might be just a touch dumb like any other teenage boy, not blind; Steve Harrington.

Steve "The King" "The Hair" Harrington.

Steve "who was never really a problem but still kind of a douchebag" Harrington.

Steve "who Eddie never shuts the fuck up about" Harrington.

Steve "who just so happens to be coming to their band practice today" Harrington.

Steve Harrington, Gareth's 99% sure.

As much could be proven by the way Eddie slips up on his cord and blushes the deepest shade of red upon Steve's arrival.

Not to mention the fact that Harrington's sporting a Black Sabbath t-shirt Gareth knows to be Eddie's because they went to the fucking concert together.

Well, then there's the hickeys that suspiciously match between the pair and the way Steve's eyes rake with a disturbing sort of hunger over Eddie's body.

It's then that Eddie's change in the flavour of weird he's giving off today makes sense. That dopey smile, those heart shaped eyes and the way he just seems blissfully happy; it all makes sense.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #steddie fandom #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fic #gareth emerson

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #my writing #my fic

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italiansteebie · 1 year

Text

gareth watching from afar as eddie pushes steve against the side of his van, pinning him there and he's like "oh fuck, eddie's trying to beat up harrington. he's gonna die."

and he's looking around, considering the options, the action plan, until he finally looks back at them, and oh.

oh.

eddie's got his hands tangled in steve's hair and steve is basically humping eddie's thigh. and he can't look away. because there's something comsmically attractive about watching his best friend mouth fuck one of the prettiest boys there is.

until he hears steve whimper, and watches eddie basically manhandle this beefy ass jock into the back of his van. he runs away before he can witness the way it starts shaking.

his face looks something like this:

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #established steddie #gareth stranger things #poor gareth #gay panik #best friend gareth #steddie ficlet

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domsaysstuff · 1 year

Text

Okay so this idea has been rocking around my empty skull for some time now just we know that Eddie can be a pretty mean DM and a shithead and I've been thinking abt romances in D&D and how it would work in Hellfire

And I had this thought that Eddie would like be "no romances!!" to the Corroded Coffin group (before the kids joined) and they're like why? and Eddie just to tease them says that he doesn't want to pretend to fall for their smelly ugly faces

Which just motivates them to try and seduce like every character that Eddie introduces for a fucking month and it leads to the creation of the rule: Every romance/seduction directed roll must be rolled above 15 to succeed AND if Eddie decides that the attempt is particularly bad the roll is with disadvantage

The Corroed Coffin boys are obviously teasingly like ohhh so we get an advantage if it's good?

"Doubt that would happen boys, but sure, if you make me, Eddie fucking Munson, to blush like a fair maiden then you'll get the advantage on the roll"

They try, they really do, but all the CC boys succeed in doing is killing off all of their party in three sessions and Gareth who is a little shit is actually rolling his third character (because the consequences of a failure are fucking brutal) by the time Jeff and [unnamed freak] give up

After that they know better (except Gareth who still sometimes does that just to annoy Eddie and be a little shit) to try and then the kids join Hellfire and Eddie has even less of an desire to flirt with fucking Wheeler, Henderson and Sinclair (they're baby children!!)

But the kids are a little shits too and they see Gareth being a little shit so they copy

It ends badly for them, they gripe about Eddie being unfair because like "all three of us have girlfriends Eddie and you don't so we clearly know more about romance then you do" Dustin not only gets a flick on the head for that but his character might have ended up being put into situations™ throughout the session that are "totally unfair!"

But fair to say all of Hellfire knows the rules and all of hellfire knows that no matter how well they try and how smooth they are (they really aren't ever smooth) Eddie will not blush or even consider they attempts as "good", the best they got was "tolerable" (Lucas got it and he's still very proud of it, as he deserves okay?), Eddie is impossible to fluster and so it's just is this fun thing they sometimes do when they feel particularly like little shits

And that's it about it

Until Vecna and all the upside down shit and the surprising friendship of Eddie and Steve happens

And suddenly Steve Harrington is not only sitting but playing D&D

Everything is going actually pretty good and Dustin practically vibrates out of his chair at how proud he is of Steve for how well he is doing so far and then

And then Steve tries to flirt with a pretty bard

Dustin deflates, he is ready for the absolute disaster that is going to fall upon Steve, he makes eye contact with Lucas - both of them ready with "it was actually a pretty good line tho!" at the tip of their tongues to defend Steve's decisions, he doesn't know Eddie's special rules after all and it would be funny to see Steve fail, sure, but it's Steve's first game and the kids wanted it to be good for Steve so convincing him to play again would be easier

But now Eddie is going to absolutely rip into him and Steve will never want to play again and-

"Roll with advantage" Dustin gasps, audibly, loudly, the room is silent, except for Steve who's very unaware of the chaos he just created and just rolls the dices, his usual confidence in place

And if someone looked closely - and all of the hellfire is fucking looking - Eddie Munson has indeed a light blush on his face

#i feel like it would have been so funny #steve and eddie just spend the rest of the session flirting through the bard and steve's character #steve also doesn't know why Lucas looks so in awe of him after the session Mike is scowling and Dustin is looking at him #as if he's a weird matemathical equasion #the CC boys give Eddie so much shit tho after the session #'oh so ours ugly mugs don't do it but king steve's jocky ass does?' 'it's a pretty great ass!'#steve doesn't really learn abt the rules until like a month later #also this is my gareth is a little shit agenda and i will be always pushing it #steddie #fic idea #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #dom's au idea of the day #corroded coffin #also hahaha yes this is my official my brain cannot keep my ideas in my head anymore so im going to unleash all of them slowly here

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rogueddie · 1 year

Text

996 hours, 39 minutes and 12 seconds.

Gareth has had enough. It's been long enough. He's sick and tired of waiting- he's taking matters into his own hands. He can't wait any longer. It'll kill him.

"Oh, hey," Steve looks surprised when he opens the door. "Gareth. Uh, what are you-?"

"Are you home alone?"

"What? Yeah, but-"

He grabs Steve by the shoulders, turning him around and directing him into his house, kicking the door shut behind him. He walks them all the way to the kitchen and nudges Steve into one of the seats.

Gareth sits across from him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you a homophobe?"

"What? No!" Steve looks deeply offended at the question, before a more curious, understanding look takes over. "Wait, are you-?"

"No, I just need to make sure you're safe. You don't have a problem with any of that?"

"No, I don't. I'm not an asshole- not anymore, anyway."

Gareth glances at the clock.

996 hours, 42 minutes, 08 seconds.

"Alright... do you like Eddie?"

"What?"

"Eddie Munson. Do. You. Like. Him."

"That- I don't- what- what does that have to- to do with, like, anything?" Steve flushes, shifting uncomfortably.

That's a yes, Gareth thinks, nodding to himself.

"I'm going to send him over here in, like... two, maybe three, hours. He likes horror movies, salted popcorn and diet coke."

"I don't know what you mean."

Gareth sighs, rubbing his head as he glances at the clock again.

996 hours, 42 minutes, 58 seconds.

"I can't deal with his stupid pining anymore," he grabs Steves hands, giving him his best pleading look, hoping his desperation shows. "Just... try one date. Please, for the love of God, I won't survive another day listening to him ranting about your hair."

"What? Wait... does- does he... like me?"

Steves voice is so quiet, timid, it nearly makes Gareth falter. It sounds so much like his little sister, when she lets the cruel shit other kids say get to her.

"Don't let him know I told you, but... yeah. Yeah, Steve, he really likes you."

"Oh."

Gareth can't help but laugh at how starstruck he looks, eyes so wide and awed.

"Wait, what- what does he say about me? You said... my hair?"

"Alright, I'm taking that as a yes," Gareth quickly gets up, waving off Steves excited questions. "Two to three hours, Harrington!"

1,002 hours, 34 minutes, 58 seconds.

Eddie shoves Gareth out the way as soon as he opens the door, immediately starting to pace in his living room.

"You alright?"

"No!" Eddie screeches, eyes almost as wild as his hair. "Steve kissed me!"

"What? Dude, that's great!"

"I know! I just- fuck, I have to thank you for giving him the heads up that I was on the way with his VHS," Eddie grabs both of his hands. "He set up a pillow fort so we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street together. Gar, the movie scared him but he put it on because I like it and... fuck."

"So, it went well?"

"It was amazing."

They sit together, Eddie walking him through every little detail of their date. It just further proves that Steve more than earnt his romantic reputation.

It's also a relief to finally hear Eddie talking with so much joy, and love. Even just talking about Steve, he has a look like he thinks he hung the moon. His own personal sun.

"Hey," Gareth interrupts. "Congrats, man. You deserve this."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #gareth my beloved #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

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Beautiful Swan

Eddie Munson x reader

(Summary: When Hellfire starts a fun little game of ‘what animal does everyone look like?’ your self-esteem plummets to the floor. But your best friend and crush, Eddie, can tell. And he’s there to not only defend you, but make sure he’s around to help pick you back up <3. Tw: negative body image. Reuploaded from my ao3. 9.4K)

You’d finally finished today’s session. Eddie decided the cliffhanger he’d brought up was the best place to leave it, the worst for you and the rest of Hellfire unfortunately. But that meant you guys had a few minutes where you could all just chat and hang out.

Eddie waddled up to you, nudging his shoulder against your own to get your attention, and when you looked to him, all he did was smile at you. You chuckled smally back, rubbing your shoulder against his playfully too.

You loved the fact that when Eddie enrolled you in his campaign, he pulled out the seat right next to his for you, on your very first day. Pushing it in with a genuinely charming smile as you sat, and a short bow of his head, as you thanked him. Gareth seemed to get a pencil thrown at his head right after that, although you were too busy starting at Eddie’s pretty smile he was giving just to you. So you guess he’s the one who lost his chair.

It wasn’t just his genuine and effortless charm that made you fall in love with Eddie Munson though, even before he was your best friend, although that certainly added to it. From the moment you saw Eddie, you were completely enamoured. Not just romantically, but he had such an aura around him it just made you want to be someone close to him till the end of time. You’d love, more than anything, for Eddie to ask you out. On a proper date, not just asking his friend to chill at the arcade or smoke weed in his empty trailer. Although you still enjoyed every interaction with him. Him asking you to do those as his girlfriend would be a great day! But it wasn’t going to happen.

Even though Eddie didn’t see much about himself, you tried to talk him up, as much as you could, even if sometimes it fell into the not completely platonic category, you would tell him, because he deserved to know every good thing about himself. You truly saw how amazing Eddie was. And while you two were best friends... you feared there was no way in hell, he would ever even consider thinking about you like that.

Not that you’d hold that against him! Of course not! He didn’t owe you anything, he was perfectly fine being attracted to who he was attracted to. But you sometimes just wished, you looked a little less like yourself, because now and again your gut just whispered to you all the parts of your body that made you unlovable to another person. Especially someone you admired so much, like Eddie Munson.

Eddie nudged you with his hip this time. And a laugh seeped from his bitten smirk as you shoved his arm with your hand, easily regaining his balance but using your shoulders to do so. You giggled back, offering your help by steadying his own shoulders, and letting go once he was on his feet. Eddie however, did not let go of your eyes. Still grinning, his body turned to give you his full attention. “How was today’s session princess?” His hand coyly flipped half over his grin, holding his elbow, like he was rocked with anticipation for your answer.

Your character wasn’t even royalty. And you refused to ever play the damsel in distress role, in a group filled with only boys. But Eddie still called you that pet name. And it made you smitten every damn single time. You at least presumed, it was a dnd reference.

“Was I an... adequate dungeon master?” He leant closer to you but didn’t whisper it. You sucked your lips in even though you made it clear you were smiling, just trying not to giggle, with the way Eddie made you feel. “Well... adequate may be a grand understatement, my noble dungeon master.”

Eddie’s fist skyrocketed to his chest, eyes closed as he let out a grateful sound. “You’re too kind sweet princess! For I surely would’ve been strewn in twain, if you thought any less of me.”

Eddie never gave up the silly voices, and he only peeked open one eye to see if you were amused, teeth gleaming in glee as he saw your cheeks raise as you laughed. He winked that open eye at you, before dropping his hands to his sides.

You went to swat at his chest teasingly again, but Eddie easily brushed away your hand with his own, smirking at his easy victory over you. His smirk soon transitioned into a smile, and his lips opened as if to say something else. Until Mike spoke up loudly.

“This is boring! Let’s play a game.”

Eddie didn’t even take his eyes off you before dramatically rolling them. You giggled, hiding it in your hand, but at the sound Eddie’s slumped shoulders bounced right back up, and he beamed at you proudly.

“Aw. Do the babies all need to play games to stay happy?” Gareth teased, flicking Mike’s forehead, who then bat at the band members hand like an angry cat.

“Dude shut up. You’re making us look like babies!” Dustin smally whacked Mike, Lucas agreeing. You laughed a little into Eddie, who’s shoulder was still close to yours and not going anywhere. The poor freshmen did still have to fight a little bit to get taken seriously sometimes. Although no one would debate that Eddie held the most power in this room.

“Let’s say what animal everyone looks like!” Jeff smoothly input, pivoting immediately around to his friend. “Gareth is naked mole rat.”

“A WHAT?!” All of the boys erupted into laughter, expect for Gareth who was hitting Jeff with a book. Even Eddie’s chorus rang out behind you and you loved that sound. But oh God.

A cold slimy feeling ran down your throat and seemed to climb up your spine in canon. This game would not be for you. You know you struggle with self-esteem issues, you realise that. Sometimes you felt bad even being in Eddie’s Hellfire logo shirt. It could feel too skin tight and suffocating, nothing to do with Eddie’s printing, but your own nauseating feeling like you somehow didn’t deserve to be wearing it.

You would really prefer if you guys could’ve just kept talking instead. If you could be chatting with Eddie right now, instead of standing here with literal goosebumps on your skin from the threat of this conversation. Would there be anyway you could get out of being picked at this that wouldn’t look odd? You weren’t sure.

Eddie crossed his arms, biting back a smile as he looked at his young warriors, Lucas energetically shaking Jeff and Mike who stood beside him. “Who should we do next?”

God you hoped they didn’t pick you. You knew Eddie wouldn’t be cruel, you knew he was a very empathetic guy, who from his own experiences, knew when words could hurt more than most. You loved that about him, and he loved that you could actually see how kind he could be, and not just because he had such kind eyes. Some of the things he told you in private, only you, were things only a genuinely emotionally intelligent person would know. And even though the other guys were your friends too, you dreaded the thought of them all staring at you and judging an animal from that. ...What would they even pick?

‘A slug.’ Is what popped into your mind. But you shudder, hating yourself for thinking that way. And hating yourself because you almost believe that is an animal you could resemble. It’s stupid. You have to clear the thought away immediately, focus on something, Eddie’s smile at liking this new game, just so you didn’t actually think hard about what you could argue might’ve been an intrusive thought. If you think too hard on it, you’ll bring yourself down and you can’t do that around the others, it’ll just bring them down too.

“Dustin... Dustin...” Mike pondered, now realising he got to make fun of his best friends too.

“Oh shit. Yeah, Dustin...?” Lucas piped up, swivelling more to his side as they both, all of you, stared down your cap wearing friend.

Mike continued. “Hmm... Dustin.”

“You guys better be careful.” Dustin warned, holding up a karate chop hand to show he was serious, making you and Eddie giggle into each other.

Into each other! Your giggles shifted your bodies about until Eddie’s shoulder was leaning against yours. And he stayed in that position! Normally you wouldn’t be this excited because you were physically close as friends, it wasn’t unusual, but when your heart’s already going, everything seemed bigger. You tried desperately not to move, self conscious about your own breathing now, was it rubbing Eddie the wrong way, was it loud? Nasally? And oh my god this is an uncomfy position. Did you look unnatural positioned like this? Like you just wanna touch Eddie? Which is ridiculous because you touch him all the time! You literally hugged this morning. And Eddie held your high five after he’d graced you with one, swinging your hands down and wrapping it in his own as he continued his description of the, courtesy of you, slain goblin. Swinging your hand for a few seconds so it was enough to be causal, not enough for someone to call anyone out on, but enough to be long enough to make you question. And have something to giggle over in bed that night when you thought about it.

Mike and Lucas just laughed at Dustin’s display, before the former decided. “An ostrich.”

It seemed to not be anything Dustin was expecting at least, if his whole body leaning back was enough to tell. “An ostrich? Why the shit?”

“I don’t know” Mike fake stroked his chin, Lucas following in suit as all the members now tried to see the relation in the curly haired boy. “It’s something to do with the eyes. Too beady, too... untrustworthy.”

Dustin scoffed. And there was silence, only for a few seconds in the club room, which was still rare. But everyone was busy contemplating Dustin. Until Gareth spoke calmly. “Jeff’s a blobfish.”

“What the hell is a blobfish?!” Jeff double taked, looking at his best friend incredulously.

“The ugliest animal in the world.” Everyone snickered. “We can probably find a pic of it in the library, if you’re okay breaking into the scary adults only section.”

You were part of the ensemble of laughs everyone gave, including Jeff’s cheerfully fake one before he tackled Gareth, noogieing him hard as the other boy cackled in his grip. You were glad everyone could joke around as friends like this. At first the guys were all a little nicer to you. The freshmen of the group were clearly already friends, as were Gareth and Jeff, but Eddie, even being friends with all of them, accepted you into his close circle almost immediately. You were glad when the guys realised they could just treat you like their other friends, they didn’t need to coddle you just because you were a girl. Although you were a little nervous about the rough housing around this topic.

Sure you could take some light teasing, you weren’t a baby, and you hazed the guys right back, but you had a feeling whichever animal they all said looked like you, is something that’s going to be spiralling into the back of your mind quickly. And you were a bit nervous for any disatourous consequences that could come of that.

The two band members were getting a little rougher, still laughing away, but knocking into the table now. The freshmen all eagerly cheering them on. And even though the session was over, the pieces were about to be put away from their strategic positions on the map, Eddie still raised his hand as he watched his beloved hand painted figures topple.

“Hey hey HEY!” Eddie called out, his hand spread out and everyone, you included, falling into silence under your leader, a smile on his face that got you all invested in whatever wise words he’d say. “I’m the dungeon master here!” Eddie threw both his arms wide open dramatically now, smiling fiercely at his little group. “Have you all forgotten who’s God when you’re wearing those shirts?” He scoffed at the guys who were settling down, smiling to you as you watched them all fall in line, his hair bouncing as he rolled his eyes with his whole head. It made you smile. “I’ll decide who’s what!”

Eddie dropped his arms once you all were grinning, eagerly waiting for him to cast his opinions. And firstly, Eddie turned on his heel to you. Both his feet plopped in place firmly, hands swinging behind his back as he hummed to your self, looking you up and down.

Now your heart was truly pounding. You hid the worry on your face easily, just smiling back with such a nice look that it almost was daring him to be mean to someone so loveable, and loyal in your group.

Finally Eddie resigned, with a hand extending to yours, smiling with heart as he finally got the animal he was searching for. “For y/n... a swan.”

Now that hadn’t been what you were expecting. You could feel your head flinch back from the unexpected declaration. For a moment you tried to decipher if there was anything physically about you that was truly swan like that surpassed all the, well, you. But coming up with a blank for that, you felt your heart spike in the good way you’d only felt around Eddie in recent years. A genuine smile crept onto your features and this time you didn’t hold it back.

You and Eddie were still looking right at each other, and he grinned as he saw you spark up at the name. But before you could ask, in a voice you dreadfully knew would be smaller and higher pitched than your usual but you for once didn’t care about, Mike popped up with a question of his own to your dm.

“Soooo, is that because of the ugly duckling thing, orrrr?..”

The rest of the club burst into laughter, Mike more than anyone, looking to you with pride at his jab. You guys did tease each other quite a lot, it helped solidify a lot of friendships early on. The only one who didn’t laugh was Eddie.

You’d laughed at their joke. Not in a large way, but you pointed your finger and stretched out as if to hit their shoulders as they teased, but you laughed along with your friends in their game. Even though as soon as the joke left Mike’s mouth, and the laughter started up, you felt a stabbing pain, starting from your heart, wreaking havoc all over your body. In your life you’d gotten used to laughing after a while, you knew it was easier for everyone else. And it was easier for you if you just played along and didn’t make them uncomfortable. ’Ugly duckling...’ you thought, ’couldn’t have picked better myself. My friends clearly know me so well.’ A glum cloud was moving over you.

Eddie wasn’t too thrilled though. “Hey knock that shit off.” He growled warningly at Mike, who only raised in hands in fake surrender before bringing them to his knees to laugh again. Eddie telling them off almost made it funnier to them. Well, his reactions did really.

With Eddie’s eyes on Mike and Lucas, Gareth raised his hand behind Eddie’s back quickly “Have you turned into the pretty swan yet?”

He yelped and ran as Eddie span around to whack upside his head, hiding behind Jeff with a playfully startled look on his face. Like a dog wanting to play chase.

You didn’t answer his question, and you didn’t even have to laugh as everyone’s attention was on the scene Gareth was making with Eddie. It allowed you to just sink into the background, wishing the shadowy room, a perfect set up by Eddie, the auteur of Hellfire Club, would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to grin till your cheeks hurt, and hide the redness you knew would eventually stain your eyes.

“No I meant swan! Just swan!” Eddie whipped his explanation to the room, frustrated everyone was making such a big deal about what was supposed to be his compliment to you, twisting his words like everyone else in town did. Except this time it made his heart hammer like it hadn’t since he’d accepted the fact nearly everyone hated him, because you were on the receiving end, and not him. “That’s not what I mea- shut up you guys!” His eyes found yours now, and you were just standing exactly where you were before, a neutral look plastered across your expression, minus your upper lip you sucked in.

“You have never been, and are not, an ugly duckling.”

There was a pregnant pause. Your wide eyes were held on Eddie’s soft ones, one hand pressed out to you, the other behind him where the majority of the guys were, like he was trying to forcefully separate you from the bullies, even if they did think it was all joking, and you thought he knew you wouldn’t try and distance those opinions yourself, from the way he kept looking at you. His own lips mirrored yours, the only movement in the room apart from his chest rising and falling as he breathed, sucking it in as he waited for you. He hadn’t meant to start any type of conversation like this, and you knew he didn’t like where it’d gone. With just a few moments of him watching you like that, you felt a small smile start to tug at your lips where they were previously tucked away, heartbeat softening under his gaze and words.

That was until words not spoken by Eddie, broke the graceful moment supposendly only noticed between the two of you.

“Like... so what, is y/n aging backwards, orrrr??” Dustin asked the group, snapping the silence of the room. It was quickly completely shattered as everyone praised Dustin for his comeback. You watched Eddie’s shoulders fall in a sigh, squinting his eyes just a little harder than usual.

Your stomach flipped as the boy you almost felt was a little brother to you cut you deep.

Great, even Dustin was properly joining in now. His words almost stung the most. But even as your brain thought that, your heart thought another thing ’not him too...’

“Seriously, knock it off!“ Eddie growled deeply at his members, more firm than the last time he said it. But the guys just didn’t get it. They weren’t taking him seriously, they didn’t realise they were supposed to. Dustin hadn’t even looked at Eddie, he just kept waiting for you.

And when his big goofy grin was looking to yours, and the others as he got such an uproarious reaction to his joke, Eddie being ignored, your own practice perfect smile reacted too. “Oh not you as well?” You rolled your eyes, thankful it gave you an excuse to blink any wateriness away. “Shit Dustin, I thought at least you’d be on my side?”

“I am.” Dustin nodded, feigning seriousness in a straight pose as he embellished upon his joke. “It’s therapeutic for people to not live in denial after a while.”

You laughed again, giving a small punch to his shoulder as you were half relieved that your serious words came in a light enough tone that no one could decipher them. The other part of you begged them to realise this was too much. That they were hurting you. But you knew you couldn’t handle that. If you started acting like a baby, acting out against their words like a brat who couldn’t take it, they’d all just pause and stare at you, even Eddie. None of them would know what to say and you’d have ruined everything by making it awkward. The ugliest animal thing earlier showed they were all joking as friends, but you couldn’t apparently take a joke. They were all good kids, and your friends. They couldn’t help your uncomfortable truth.

“Has it happened yet in that case?” Mike faux whispered to the other younger boys, slinking away a little with a giggle as Eddie stepped closer, chin out and teeth gritted in frustration.

You couldn’t see that though from your vantage point at the other side of the end of the table. You managed a chuckle at Mike’s add on, it was smaller than your laughs before. You didn’t really know how to react now that Eddie was sticking up for you the way he was, but even that small laugh was enough to bring Eddie physically back to you.

“Y/n you don’t have to laugh,” Eddie told you, eyes twitching downwards in sadness. Why weren’t you discouraging them? “Guys, shut the fuck up already.” He told them off, stepping closer to your side whilst he glared at them.

You felt something in your jaw twitch, a muscle or something, and you hoped Eddie didn’t hear the sound your throat made in response. You leant closer to his warmth, not touching him yet as his slightly widening nostrils made his breathing audible to you, but your jacket material brushed agaisnt his own. “It’s fine Eddie, don’t w-“

“No it’s not y/n.” Eddie quickly interrupted you, looking down at you with a softer glance, even though he’d snapped his disapproving look from the boys in under a second. He still looked disappointed at you though. Although you weren’t sure if he’d had time to control that look aimed at them, or if it was your fault.

You were stunned into silence. You almost felt ashamed, bowing your head as you looked at Eddie’s feet, noticing them shuffling nearer to you. He didn’t solidly touch you yet, but his arm and left side was slightly behind you now, closer like this. You didn’t think the guys were making that much of a big deal, especially since in this case, part of you knew they were truly joking. But the words they spoke still came out. You weren’t expecting Eddie to really defend you, not when you didn’t even try and defend yourself anymore, not even subconsciously. It felt... warm, that he did though.

In the tiniest of movements, you leant your back into his torso.

Your back only grazed against his cotton shirt, but it still felt better than before. Better than most things.

“C’mon, it’s not like she’s gonna start sprouting white feathers any time soon!” Mike retaliated against Eddie in a brave offence.

Your instinct is almost to laugh again. But Eddie’s was to drop his hands onto your shoulders, and that touch completely whirlwinded your thoughts, as well as snapping you out of that learnt behaviour. Things were different when Eddie was behind you. After a few seconds of them still laughing, Eddie began gently rubbing your shoulders. You didn’t think this was because they were still laughing at you. Eddie just naturally fell into it. It felt too good as he rubbed his hands quickly up and down the top of them, the friction buzzing beneath your skin in a way that made you feel heated in your face and chest, not in a way that made you want to itch your skin off, for how disgusting your body felt it was. Eddie was now fully behind you, but his head still leant over yours as he spoke. You felt shrouded by him, including, from your own umbrella of thoughts. “Don’t pay any attention to those shitheads y/n.” He commanded you.

You meant to nod. Really. You meant to show Eddie that you were strong. You were good and could do what he asked. But instead, with the soft weight of Eddie’s palms rolling against your skin, your body gave off more of a defeated shrug. Maybe that’s what your mind intended your body to show anyway. Even with Eddie’s support. Something you didn’t know you needed quite this much, even if you were having somewhat of a hard time properly accepting it.

That seemed to do it for Eddie. He peered down at you, leaning more to the side. You had to look away after a certain point, when his eyes grew scared, it was like he could see right into you. His voice was stable as he moved in front of you, hands still clapsed to your shoulders, and eyes full with hurt. “Stop that y/n, you’re beautiful.”

Loud enough that the club members could hear. Which was in Eddie’s plan. He just wasn’t thinking super far ahead, his chest squeezing for a second too hard, when after a small obvious pause the guys all called out in unison. “Ooooooh!”

They all started teasing him. At a similar level they were doing so to you. And you didn’t miss the sudden panic that hit Eddie’s eyes, especially as his hands dropped from your body, twiddling his own rings instead. “Well you know not beautiful I didn’t mean it like that I just m-me-meant...”

You guessed it wasn’t worth defending you at this point. Now more than ever you had to keep in control of your face, with Eddie looking at you still stumbling over his own words. His confidence quickly fading.

And while it hurt hearing him call you that initially, ’beautiful’, even though you knew something was wrong with you that that did hurt, it hurt even more when he said you weren’t.

And you knew that was stupid. That wasn’t what he meant, he just didn’t want you to think he was hitting on you inappropriately or anything (or at all). He didn’t want the guys teasing you about him having a crush. Especially when he almost definitely didn’t, so Eddie would’ve found it annoying you were sure. That bad part of your brain still took what it could grab at though. Eddie did not mean to say you were beautiful, he didn’t think that was true at all.

Probably only said it to shut up your blabbering for a second. You were that pathetic, just bringing the vibe down for everyone, so much Eddie had to lie. Good job he quickly redacted it you guessed. At least he still had his values there.

Wallowing in your own self-misery, something Eddie was very clealry not missing, he was shook out of his concern for you by Gareth sticking his tongue out at him. “C’mon Eddie, you’re never this nice to us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back with a dramatic grunt to him. “Yeah well that’s because I actually like y/n! Y/n is actually nice.” He turned back to you, still concerned that you weren’t looking at anyone’s face, not even his as he tried to grab your attention. Only his kept being stolen back by those little pricks.

“Is it because y/n’s the only girl in the group?” Lucas asked, getting a “Yeah Eddie. Is it?” From Dustin as back up.

Eddie grit his teeth, shaking his head in frustration. Talk to you, get them to back off, get you to look at him, talk to his group. “No-“

“Well it has to be something.” Jeff suggests, earning a snicker from Gareth.

“Look, you’re all assholes.” Eddie chides. Not in a super serious way, but letting them know he was getting tired of dealing with their bull. He was trying to shut them down, at least get them to talk amongst themselves so he could have you. But as soon as his head snapped back to you, everyone’s went to Gareth, as his digital watch started to beep.

Eddie’s heart sunk, and yours fluttered in relief mixed with discomfort. Time to leave.

Everyone started packing up. Eddie quickly shoving all his things into his bag because leaving them there was a death wish for any figurines or other creations, but he didn’t want to get caught behind by everyone else’s cleaning up.

Dustin hit your arm lightly only to snicker at you when you looked up. You laughed along with the joke. Your head was red because you were bending at an angle under the table to quickly pack your bag. No other reason.

At least with the growing members, no one would notice if you didn’t talk to anyone on the short way out of school. You hoped.

All of you flooded out the theatre rooms door, the club chattering amongst themselves down the empty hallway as you tried to keep your head buried even further now, in less dim light. Although the sudden change of leaving had given you a small spark of rejuvenation, that you were riding out so as not to cry. Eddie was sticking close by you, not talking to the others either, but apart from your mouth breathing you were doing, which you had to keep up to stop from fully cracking, you tried to act normal.

And considering both of you were surrounded by the group walking to the exit doors, Eddie didn’t try and talk to you until you all dispersed there. Even though you were the only thing he looked at the entire walk.

Exiting into the Indiana sun, that was definitely about to start setting with how late the session had gone, the rest of the members started going to their methods of transportation, the parking lot pretty silent as most clubs finished at a reasonable and precise time. Unlike Hellfire.

The kids had their bikes to haul back today, and Gareth’s mom was picking him and Jeff up, so it meant Eddie had a free seat. Not that he wouldn’t be driving you, or anyone, in the back of his van anyways. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” Eddie offered, trying to act causal like he could tell you wanted, but the inside of his mind buzzing with ’Please say yes, please ride with me so we can talk.’

But you quickly shut that down, panic evident on your face, which Eddie hated to see, as you quickly spoke out “My mom’s picking me up.” Too quickly for normal.

Eddie opened his mouth again, just letting it take over what he was next to say without his mind’s involvement, a bit like you clearly were, but as he did, you both spot about the only car rolling outside.

Heart dropping disappointed, Eddie put on a small smile as he waved to your mom through her window, just as you started to run over, not even saying bye to Eddie. Not even hugging him goodbye... which he looked forward to every single day. You hugging him hello and goodbye were the only hugs, the only true physical affection, Eddie really ever got. And he didn’t get it today.

But all he could do was keep waving, not able to see if anyone was waving back thanks to the sun’s reflection on the car window, as he was forced to watch you driving away...

You hated that you had school the next day. You almost wanted to take the day off, you had the very real stomach ache as an excuse. Plus the fatigue from staying up until 2am - it was hard to sleep when all you could do was cry. Scared about what Eddie was thinking right now, knowing he’d be up. How all your friends see you. Would they see you any differently today?

But there came the cost of not showing up, and them possibly figuring out you were hurt by yesterday. Then you holding in your crying the afternoon before was pointless, because they’d all know you’re a baby who makes her friends feel bad. God you hated how anxiety made every decision feel like a crappy one.

But you decided to go to school, prove to yourself that you were brave and not stupid. Even if you still secretly planned to avoid Hellfire as much as possible. Wherever physically, and in places like shared classes with Eddie (in which being the only two to share desks previously always seemed like a blessing), and lunch with all of them, you’d just have to practice avoidance by being quieter.

Unfortunately, none of this was on the table for you.

You got out your moms car and started to walk up to the school doors, busting through the ones closest to your lockers like you did every day, only for your heart to freeze and constrict in your chest, at seeing a pained looking Eddie leaning against your locker.

He was looking every which way, peering over most students heads. And you quickly made the decision to let autopilot run free on your body so you could continue your usual walk up, before Eddie could see you just stood stiff staring at him. Not weird at all. You trudged on.

Eddie’s face lit up when he saw you, but not in the usual happy way. It was more of a relieved look this time. He waved you over though, his curled hand raised above people but not shouting for your attention, which was a bit lower profile for the metal head than usual. You managed a small smile, taking a breath you knew you’d need, as Eddie managed to give a smile that looked all to much like your own as you swanned closer. “Hey princess.” He breathed out, calmer than he looked before.

As much as that nickname made your heart beat faster, you were distracted by the fading smell of smoke on him, and a small frown twisted onto your features, as Eddie only usually smoked right before classes when he was stressed, and needed a cigarette. Oh no, you hoped he was okay.

Eddie pretty much blocked you off from the rest of the school goers, and the world, as you got to your locker. Scooting over because he was literally leaning on yours, his hand moving to rest one to the left, but his entire body leant behind you, a breath as relieved as his smile leaving his lips as he could finally look over you. “I’m so glad you’re in today.”

Your face burned, heart swelling and tingly.

“I mean, I was worried you weren’t gonna show. I was totally gonna ditch and steal your neighbours ladder to check up on you though, if you didn’t.”

You heart was palpitating now, your lips opening into a small fish like shape as you blinked furiously, charmed. Eddie would’ve climbed through your window to check up on you if you’d missed school? How long was he worrying about you? How long had he planned that?

The gesture was so sweet, too sweet to you, electricity stormed through your stomach and your legs, not sure whether to smile or bury everything down deeper because you knew negative feelings were still being held back by a very thin damn. You turned to your locker, keeping a side eye on Eddie as you spoke, organising your books. “I’m fine. I promise. Why wouldn’t I be Eddie?”

It didn’t sound like you were faking. But that’s because it didn’t come out sounding causal at all. Like you weren’t even trying to be convincing. It sounded like you truly didn’t mean any of that and the both of you knew it too well.

’Maybe he just wanted to skip school’ floated briefly through your mind.

Eddie clicked his tongue, unseen to you, running his sweaty palms against the skin and denim of his ripped black jeans. “Well, after yesterday, you seemed a bit upset. Which was fair. I know they were just messing around because you’re their friend, but the guys were being total assholes and losers.”

Fair? Eddie thought you were okay being upset? You knew it was true, realistically. Of course you were allowed to feel upset. But it just felt so... comforting, to have Eddie confirm that for you in his own way, without any prior prodding. It was just a genuine declaration of how he felt.

“O-Oh.”

That wasn’t being hidden from Eddie. The crowd of pupils and teachers was thinning, but Eddie still drew closer, a shield against all those people, the noise of outside the two of you. People could be mean to you guys, mostly him, and he hated the fact people were only mean to you because you were friends with him, so he just wanted a break from that so he could focus on you right now. His face furrowed, already fallen like before he’d even seen you, lips twisting every which way and being bitten on the inside.

“W- uhh, thank you. That’s really nice of you... But yeah, um, I’m fine. No need to worry, honest!”

“Are you being honest though?”

Eddie leant closer and his breath on the nape of your neck drew a loud shudder of a gasp. You turned around quickly, only to be even more intimated at his determined look, now you two were front to front. Your back closed your locker for you, bag dead by your shoes.

“Uhhhh I-“

Eddie put his thumb to your lips, his hand following after and oh so gently cupping your chin. You couldn’t even breathe at this point, too scared to, and Eddie had this geuinine look in his eyes, emotions full in the dark brown, that you didn’t know what to do with. “Y/n please talk to me. You’re my best friend, right? I know you were lying yesterday when you laughed with the guys and I don’t think...” Eddie struggled when he didn’t let his heart run with the words, tongue flicking against his lips as it usually did, while his thumb still graced yours. “I don’t think they were playing along with me.”

In Eddie’s head it made sense. But it had yet to be translated to you. Instead, it was taken as wrong. “Oh? And what game were you playing?” You spoke, lightly unable to avoid brushing against his warm finger.

“No I’m not playing a game I just mean...” Eddie sighed, his brown puppy eyes so sad, as they held yours. Everyone had gone to class now, no one bothering to remind you two of the last bell. “I mean the guys and I... no fuck, hold on.” Eddie inhaled through his teeth, his hand finally leaving your face, which at least allowed you to breathe, but made you feel solemn and hollow at the same time.

Eddie was level with you. Looking like the normal boy you knew he was, who could feel unsure, and scared, and nervous. His ringed hands wrung together, swearing to himself as he tried to hold your eyes in his, desperate for you to stay right now. “I think- I mean I know, I see you differently than them...”

Eddie’s hand braced his chest as he said that, staying splayed there over his white Hellfire shirt. Meanwhile you were overlooking your flustered crush, rolling your shoulders as you exhaled unsurely through your nose. It made you nervous having a one on one conversation with Eddie that was so serious. No distractions. And seeing him so flustered and open was a vulnerable side you’d seen before, but not when you both felt this exposed, with something you were so hesitant to say. You bit your lip, only realising for a split second after that Eddie’s thumb had been on there, but you pushed that thought aside for later as you watched his tongue almost reaching the top of his nose again, sticking out like that nervously. About as on the spot as you felt.

“So... you see me as a swan and they see me as the ugly duckling?” You asked unsure, flinching back and feeling bad when Eddie winced harshly at your words. Shaking his head vigorously. Voice cracking a little through the first few words.

“No! Fuck no, that’s not. That’s not even true what they said y/n! They were just trying to find a joke and they locked onto it, they don’t think anyone looks like what they said, Jesus H Christ none of us look like animals. Least of all you y/n!”

You blinked away the last sentence, pinning it again for later, like your brain couldn’t be split between conflicting emotions, but unfortunately was picking the negative ones to experience now. The negative ones to experience with Eddie, and the positive ones for when you were alone. Christ couldn’t you be positive and happy when you were around people you loved instead today? “Look I’m not mad at them okay Eddie?” You spoke up. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to yell at them or something for me. I mean I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, it made me feel nice but-“

“What? I’m not mad. Y/n-“ Eddie strode close and took your hands softly in his, flipping them over and grazing them in his own calloused touch, holding them warmly. “I’m not even trying to talk about them right now. They were being little dicks yesterday but they were just messing around. You know I know you’re beautiful don’t you? I mean, I do have eyes.” He chuckled softly only on that last sentence. The first and only time he hadn’t seemed serious apart from when he finally saw you. Almost like you relaxed him, made him feel good, better.

But now your brain was pushing away the positivity, that was becoming more in volume than the negativity, on purpose. Because it stuck onto one part that it could warp, and stab into you like a knife.

“Look Eddie I really appreciate you, and you know I love you.” You squeezed his hands softly, and Eddie looked like he was melting at your touch. His cheeks seemed softer, slightly pinker as they raised in an honest to god smile, medium sized, but perfect to the situation. And you both took a step closer to the other, not knowing each other would do the same. Still a parting, but wrists resting on your own stomachs. “But you don’t have to say that, I know yesterday you got kinda screwed over and tried to take it back and it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad or-“

“Y/n stop!!” Eddie snapped, shocking you a little as you jumped. Eddie held your hands closer in apology, pulling your wrists so near your hands were in his stomach now. “I mean Jesus Christ! Y/n. You are beautiful. I meant it yesterday and I mean it now. And I’ve always known it. Maybe I should’ve said it more but...” Eddie used one conjoined hand to shift back his curls in his face, huffing out quickly. You could feel how hot his poor forehead was becoming as he moved so.

“You are beautiful. You’re gorgeous.” His brown eyes looked deeply into yours, open, and face contorted in a mixture of confusion, but being pure, and fully unendingly loving, as he held you close. Hands smoothing down your shoulders, shaking as they tried to keep you from running, tried to soothe you into his words. Like a charm roll a bard would throw for a restless dragon.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever been graced enough to lay my fucking eyes on.” His tongue darted out, eyes blinking sheepishly as he kept looking right at you. “Why don’t you see that, all the time?” Pain and confusion. That’s what was in his voice. Love and fear mixed into all his touches, hands smoothing over your back and shoulder blades in his need to fidget and be touching you, someone he always wanted to never not be touching, ever since the moment you first lit up when talking to him. That’s the only thing he ever saw when he looked at you, and he just couldn’t fathom a world where you somehow didn’t see the exact same thing, staring blatantly obviously back.

“Because I’m not!” You wriggled harshly out of his grip, the genuine hurt in Eddie’s eyes, only fuelling the burst of passion you were having. “I’m not anything! I’m not anything good, Eddie!” You were yelling, no one had seen you yell before, least of all Eddie. And Eddie teetered on nervous feet, worried about reaching out for you, but scared of what you’d do if he didn’t ground you.

Your breath felt ragged, head pounding. “I look at myself, I think about myself, and all I can feel, is how ugly, and disgusting I am.”

Pure and simple shock was spread across Eddie’s features. The kind of disappointed shock where he couldn’t understand how, or why you’d ever felt this way. Eddie was heartbroken.

“Whenever I remember this body I’m in, I want to cry because I feel like nothing good is deserved for someone as fucked up as this. I feel sick in my own skin. Every cell of me feels wrong, and that’s how I live. Terrified that someone’s going to look at me, someone who’s seen me a thousand times, and suddenly see this me that’s just a monster when you look again.” Your hand was to your heart, and you were crying now. Tears itching that disgusting skin people should wash their hands after touching. God you felt awful getting it out there, this was bullshit.

Anger was about to start seeping into Eddie too, just a little, grief and heartbreak was overtaking him right now. “Is this to do with what the guys said?”

You were hyperventilating now. Very aware of breaking down in front of your crush, and unable to breathe because you were crying so hard. Terror striking you from speaking the truth, because your best friend would see you that way now. Upon his words, a gasp bubbles through the saliva in your throat, but before you could answer Eddie finshed.

“I’m going to knock their teeth in.” Eddie felt hot tears in his eyes. He’d let you go home thinking about this. You were hurting. “I don’t care that they’re stupid, I’m going to tell them all that-“

“No!” You finally got close to Eddie again, your hands the only strong part of either of you as you lightly gripped his forearm. “No it’s not their fault.” You knew Eddie would only drag them somewhere and knock their heads together, but you didn’t want him guilting your friends, you didn’t want them hurt. You didn’t want them to know either. “It’s not them. I’ve always felt like this.”

Eddie felt lost. Eddie was crushed. His whole face collapsing to show it. His tears dripped onto his shirt, defeated by them. The white staining in the hollow hallway as he just looked at you, about as broken as you feel. ”But why?”

Eddie was genuinely confused. And it made your heart skip. To the point it felt so good, it was painful.

This whole conversation was painful. Your head dropped as your tears slunk to the floor, Eddie gripping your wrists in return, before pulling you warmly into a hug. Eddie’s embrace so tight, so scared to break you but needing you to stay, safe, with him, so you wouldn’t. Eddie would never let you break. He promised to himself now to always pick up your pieces before you could fully fall apart. Eddie would never let that happen, not on his watch. Not when you were under his oath. He sniffed, licking up his tears as he nuzzled his cheek into your head. Dreaded mumbles falling from his lips with small cries. Even his hips pressed to yours, his feet entangling thoughtfully, so you couldn’t fall, or retreat, just hugging you.

“I just. I don’t know.” You sobbed once. “I’m sorry.”

“Ssh. Don’t you dare apologise.” Eddie stroked the wetness away from your head, into his hand. “I’ll kick your ass.” He kisses your head instead, heart delighting, but not enough to give a smile, as you laughed at that. Hearing your small purr of a giggle was enough to tell himself to keep going, that he was doing an alright job.

“Sorry.”

Eddie pressed a hard kiss into your temple, growling lightly at you. Clearly still teasing you though. For once you didn’t have a single fear Eddie was mad at you. You could just breathe out laughs, even as you were crying. “I don’t know. Don’t you see that? See that... see an ugly duckling, in me?” You asked genuinely. For once your brain didn’t give you a million versions of the future, you just felt blank as you waited for his answer. It was peaceful.

As Eddie thought, he grazed against your head. Lips nibbling your skin, and your hair caught there, laughing lightly back when he felt another round of your chuckles, vibrating through his own chest, his warm hand smoothing down your back. He loved that feeling. He always wanted to make you laugh, but now he resolved to do so as he had your chest pressed against him, all the time. “I’ve... since the first moment I saw you, I’ve always thought you were jaw-droppingly stunning.” He revealed.

You felt conflicted, your heart pulled, brain just... not able to picture him seeing you like that. But you knew he wasn’t finished, and he held you impossibly closer, always being able to tell what you were feeling, even if it could be irritatingly accurate.

“But... the more I fell in love with you, the more and more I just kept seeing you as someone so perfect, it felt like the sun lit up her hair through every window on purpose. To shine down on her specifically. That the weather was made that day, so she could wear an outfit that made your legs, and stomach, and arms, and hands, look so desirable to hold. Someone who’s smile literally made the people around her smile for the rest of their entire day, and how that kinda magic could only be possible from you. That every day I’d see a different person spin around and do a double take at you with that look on their face, that look because they know they’ve just walked past the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and they’ll never get that chance again to brush past your shoulder, and meet-cute you, ever. And that I’m the luckiest man on this earth, because somehow, through your own kindness, and through the wind and the sun and our peers and the earth beneath our feet and stardust that made everything, I was lucky enough to be someone, who gets to see someone so beautiful, every single day.”

Eddie breathed out. His brown eyes warm in yours. His touch craving. His body glowing after all that.

And there were no words. A white sheet in your mind and a white glow over your body. You only knew you felt light, you felt... right. And your heart was full. And the thing that kept circling over and over in your mind, finally spoke out.

“You love me?”

Eddie’s breath collapsed in his laugh. Full and hearty, and the tears in his eyes were now spilt because of how they crinkled, smile spreading to his cheeks and his warm palms cupped your own cheeks, like he was so grateful to be able to hold you safe like this, like he was so happy to have your face beating in his hands. “Of course I do. I love you y/n. I’m madly in love with you! I love you so much it’s consumed every part of me and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you more than fucking anything! I love you more than anything y/n!”

“I love you too!” The air tasted different when you gasped, Eddie’s heart swelling was something you could see throughout his entire body, as his chest rose and his feet curled, and his eyes warmed, and his lips opened in such a smile. You took Eddie’s face in your own hands and everything fit together perfectly. He was so warm, so full of life, so Eddie, and so full of love for you. Eddie was the love of your life, and you could hold his tear ridden smile in your hands.

Eddie leant in close, using his hands to pull you further as his open lips spread, and your eyes fluttered stickily shut as you just smiled leaning in. Finally having his full, wet lips slotting against yours, and feeling each other’s smiles into the kiss, as you felt him kiss you like it was the best memory he’d ever make.

He pulled you in closer, almost tripping over your own feet as his hands on your cheek coerced you, but only one foot slipping, as you kissed him deeper. Lovingly moulding his lower lip that wanted to live in your mouth, and feeling his thick upper one kiss you back with so much deep adoration. Affection and love oozing out of Eddie as he kissed you happily. Sweet sounds coming from the both of you as your hands curled in his dark hair by his ears, and his cradled your nape and your lower back. Cheeks brushing and noses nuzzling, as you sweetly tasted each other, kissing like it was the only thing that was right in this world.

Finally, after stopping a little, and feeling Eddie’s nose nuzzle and brush at you in return, you pulled back. Eddie having literally stolen your breath away. You both backed up just an inch, just enough to see each other, and you were both beaming smiles through the warm sun rays. Eddie leant in to kiss you again, this time a small peck that you reciprocated, both his lips sweetly pressing against yours, and you could just tell they were Eddie Munson’s lips.

A noise of deep happiness and satisfaction finally broke the air and Eddie couldn’t help but nose at your cheek playfully again. “That was even better than I imagined.” He fondly grinned.

You tilted your head, wrapping both your arms around Eddie’s neck, as you felt a different energy, making a home in your new home. “You imagined kissing me before?”

Eddie went momentarily bright red. Before he remembered it was you he was with, and it was okay to be this vulnerable because you loved him too. “‘F course!” He sang. “Although minus the crying.”

You burst into laughter, Eddie following along as you rubbed at your drying tears, stomach fluttering as Eddie’s calloused fingers went to softly swipe at your cheekbones instead, the warm metal of his rings from how clammy his hands were, actually feeling nice as he brushed them away, “Pretty princess...” Getting at his own tears with his sleeve before you could return the favour. “Yeah.” He took both your cheeks in his hands again, before he leaned in to kiss you once more. Then your two red cheeks, and he leaned back and smiled, then both your eyes, still smiling, as he just had to look at you again “Can’t have my gorgeous girl crying. Never.”

Somehow, that didn’t start it again. Your lip wobbled but no tears came, only as Eddie kissed your nose fondly, was your movement to hold his face back, squeezing those adorable cheeks as you kissed all over his face. Every single inch got covered in your loving kisses, and feeling Eddie’s excited giggles fanning so close on your skin just made you kiss his lips over, and over, and over, and Eddie kiss yours, over, and over again. Your “I love you Eddie”’s being caught in between each and every kiss. Only stopping when Eddie pulled back to look at you, so happy in his hand, so he could smile at the sight of you. “My beautiful y/n.”

You two both skipped school that day eventually anyways. Only this time, as you walked hand in loveable hand down the empty hallways, not looking at each other only and purely because you were too busy kissing to have your eyes open, you were leaving to spend your first moments together as a couple.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson hurt/comfort #protective eddie munson #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things #Hellfire Club #fic #dustin henderson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #slight miscommunication #crush Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #negative body image issues #Eddie Munson/reader

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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

Note

from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair.

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer.

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter.

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe.

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?”

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on.

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore.

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life.

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck.

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning.

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything.

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

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HI LOVELY. I'm here to request again, as you can imagine. what about the jocks find Gareth drawing reader in class (maybe this is before the teacher gets there) and make fun of him? Reader is there and defends him? thank you, as always🙇‍♀️

I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job with this request, don't worry!

the robins

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 840

warnings: swearing, jason’s goons but no jason, flirty stuff, fluff

a/n: my love!! thank you so much for your request!! this is such a sweet idea. i kind of made reader a bit protective, so i hope that’s okay. i really hope you enjoy this!! also sorry it took me a couple days!! <333

————

Gareth lifts his hand and there’s a smudge of graphite on the side of his palm. He wipes it off in the margins of his notebook paper.

Half the time he doesn’t even notice when he starts drawing.

Sometimes it’s a new weapon for his D&D character, something long and sharp that spans the entirety of the page. Maybe it retracts and folds up or something.

Other times it’s a new way for the Corroded Coffin logo to look, because he’s been wanting to change the one on his bass drum, or it’s a random cartoon character he saw while his sister was eating breakfast that morning.

Today, it’s you.

You’re sitting in the row beside him, your desk right next to his. Class hasn’t started yet. Mrs. O’Hare always comes in late, coffee in hand, fingers red because the cup is so hot.

You look so pretty today, Gareth thinks. You always look pretty, though.

But today, right now, you seem happy. Calm. It’s raining outside, and the classroom is gray because of it. But that’s your favorite weather. You told him that once.

He sketches you as you sit, reading your book before class begins. It’s just your profile really, the slope of your nose, the dip of your brow and the curve of your mouth.

He feels you touch his thigh. Just a little tap with the tips of your fingers.

“Hm?” Gareth’s head is turned in your direction though his eyes are still on the paper. You grin at the bounce of his curls.

“Look outside, Gare.” Your voice is hushed but very excited. He turns his blue eyes on you before they follow your gaze out the window. “Look at the robins,” you tell him.

The birds are hopping around under the trees in the courtyard.

Gareth’s face splits into the prettiest smile when he realized you’re excited about birds. That you’re showing him birds.

He’s totally in love with you, he thinks. He thinks that a lot.

“They look like they’re having fun, sugarplum.”He’s barely gotten the words out before he feels a hand on the back of his chair.

“What the fuck is this, huh, Emerson?”

Chance picks up Gareth’s notebook, eyes dancing over the sketch of you, the scribbles covering almost every inch of the college-lined paper.

“Oh are we an artist now or somethin’? And is that supposed to be them?” He points the notebook in your direction. “How romantic.”

Chance turns his head, looking at Patrick and Andy, hoping they’ll laugh at his antics.

You snatch the notebook out of his hand and hold it out to Gareth, who stares at you. You drop it on his desk.

Chance looks at you then, like you’ve just had the audacity to mess with him.

He goes to speak and you stop him.

“What the hell is your problem? Why can’t you just let him do something he enjoys and mind your own fucking business? Last time I checked, he’s never said shit about your hobbies, though we both know the only reason you’re on the football team is because your dad has an in with the coach.”

Chance goes bright red at that.

“There’s never been anything wrong with drawing, and there never will be. Fuck off, you hear me?”

Patrick turns and leaves, and Andy follows because he’s never had a single brain cell help him make an original decision.

Chance looks between you and Gareth and then spins to walk to the other side of the room where he takes a seat, scratching his chin, though he never looks back in your direction.

You look at Gareth. He’s still staring at you.

You open your mouth to talk but he goes first. “Thank you,” he chokes out, and then he’s smacking the sweetest and most passionate kiss on your forehead. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You twist one of his curls around your finger. “Yes, I did. He’s an asshole. I’m not going to let him treat you like that.”

Gareth blushes. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Also you know that I love seeing you draw, right? I don’t want you to think you’re not any good because of them. I love it when your fingers get all inky and when your eyebrows furrow because you’re concentrating. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you.”

Gareth raises your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, keeping it there to hide his smile. “I know. I’m proud of you too.”

You smile.

He fights the urge to tell you that he found your defending him very attractive. Maybe he’ll tell you another time.

Gareth looks out the window again. “Look. There’s like seven of them over there!”

You sit up, watching little flashes of orange as the robins bounce around.

That’s the moment Mrs. O’Hare enters the room, and even when the room goes quiet for her to teach, you catch Gareth watching the robins for the rest of class.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#gareth emerson #gareth emerson fic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson x gender neutral reader #gareth emerson x gn!reader #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson fluff #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #gareth the great #stranger things fic #gareth emerson oneshot #gareth emerson imagine #savannah’s fics

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dylanwritesgood · 2 years

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All your faith, all your rage | Chapter 2

masterlist | ko-fi | ask

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

Summary: Gareth is relearning how to deal with high school after sudden hearing loss, and Eddie sees in him another little sheepie to rescue. Set before ST4.

Pairings: Eddie Munson & Gareth Emerson

Word count: 4,557

Warnings: Fear of the dark, autistic frustration (iykyk), grief, overprotective mom. Hurt/comfort fic, autistic and deaf character written by an autistic and deaf author

Read on Ao3

A/N: Eddie's a lil dyslexic so scribbling notes gets the best of him, sometimes. Typos in the notes are all him.

The metronome clicked steadily back and forth on its axis, the needle swinging between two predetermined points at a steady pace. Gareth squinted as he watched it, willing the non-existent ticking of it to begin in his head. He’d spent hours listening to the click of a metronome, why couldn’t he recreate it in his head?

Not taking his eyes off the device, he picked up his sticks and started his rudiments over again on the practice pad lying on the floor in front of him.

Left, right, left, right, tick, tick, tick.

He glanced away from the metronome for less than a second and when he looked back he realized he’d lost the beat. A little frustrated grunt escaped him, before he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath. He was okay.

Try again.

Left, right, left, right, tick, tick, tick.

He wiggled his toes and bobbed his head in time to the swing of the needle as if he could ingrain the tempo in his body so he wouldn’t lose it again. He felt it this time, the moment when he slipped off the tempo. His sticks stuttered during a triple stroke roll he’d done thousands of times and after he’d looked down to correct he just knew he’d lost it before he could look up to confirm it.

He couldn’t take it. His sticks went hurtling across his room with a clatter he could hardly hear and he reached behind him to drag his pillow off the bed to muffle his scream of frustration. The metronome ticked on.

What was he even, without music? He’d been working so hard but he could watch his skills slipping in front of his eyes all summer long, and when he’d gone to see if he could sign up for band that year, try to build himself back up with others to follow, he’d found an unfamiliar name in his position on the roster. Like he’d never even been there.

His collection of tapes, so lovingly arranged in their organizer, now covered in a thin layer of dust. His Walkman untouched on his dresser, the orange foam padding of his headphones a painful reminder. He’d tried it a few times, fitting the headphones in place, cranking the volume, and cupping his hands over the speakers to crush them against his ears as if maybe somehow, that would help. If that would make his favorite song sound right again. It never did.

He screamed into his pillow again, mustering up every filthy word he could think of in his muffled tirade that he smothered with the polyester batting filling wrapped in the soft grey of his pillowcase. He screamed until the yells became sobs, tears soaking the pillowcase and his face in grief and anger. All this, and he still didn’t have an answer for why. Why it happened. Why him. Just one day, some cosmic switch flipped and he lost everything.

The tears slowed after a few more minutes of sobs, and he eventually found his way out of the suffocating embrace of his pillow, wiping away saline and snot with the back of his hand. He crawled across his floor to retrieve his sticks and settled back in front of the practice pad.

Try again.

Nights were the worst. Gareth had never been afraid of the dark—he had two little sisters to soothe and comfort so he had the be the calm one that didn’t see shapes in the shadows. That was before.

Now the darkness left him vulnerable. He used to love staying up late on summer nights running feral with his friends, or reading under the covers into the wee hours. Now the idea of pulling his blanket over his head and isolating himself completely from the world felt like being buried alive. He stuck close to home as the sun set, unwilling to be too far from the comforting glow of the porch light. His mom had scattered nightlights through the house for him, little trails of glowing safety leading up the stairs from his basement room to the kitchen, to the bathroom, to his parents’ room.

Those early days he couldn’t sleep. He’d never been a good sleeper, but every time he closed his eyes, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that someone was there, creeping up on him and he couldn’t hear them. Like a scared kindergartener, he’d crawl into his parents’ big bed to nestle between them, but there was only so long he could do that before he had to learn how to sleep on his own. He was fifteen. He couldn’t sleep there forever.

They’d tried to ease him into it. Maggie, his oldest sister at thirteen, volunteered to spend a few nights on an air mattress on his floor, sleeping between him and the door. There was only so long they could do that for, too. The overwhelming terror had gotten better as he’d begun to recover some of his hearing, but he’d also just gotten used to stuffing that primal fear in a box and shoving it onto the top shelf of the closet in his mind where he could try to forget about it.

Gareth clicked on the lava lamp that sat on his dresser in the corner so he could crawl into his own bed for the night, flooding the room in a soft red glow. If he woke up in the middle of the night, it wouldn’t ruin his night vision when he ventured out of his room. That was a purpose it was never meant to serve—when his grandparents had gifted it to him one Christmas, they’d chosen red because it was his favorite color.

He arranged his covers around himself and tried to settle in for the night. Even with sleep tugging on his eyelids and his brain begging for respite from the world, he just couldn’t let go of wakefulness. Gareth curled on his side, snuggling down into his blankets, mentally pleading with his own stupid little lizard brain that wouldn’t let him sleep because he wasn’t safe to just believe him when he said he was.

I’m at home. I’m in my room. Only my family is here and they know to wake me up if something happens. I’m safe. If I close my eyes, the light isn’t going to go out. It will still be on when I open them again.

Slowly, his eyes drifted closed to test that, snapping open a second later to find nothing had changed. He tried bargaining with himself—if he closed his eyes for ten whole seconds, he could open them again if he didn’t fall asleep. Somewhere around the fourth try, when he was counting to twenty in his head, he managed to drift off.

The second day of school felt like a repeat of the first—get dropped off, go to homeroom and wonder what the garbled announcements coming over the PA system meant, then drag through his classes, trapped at the front where he could feel everyone watching him the whole time. Watch people whispering in the halls and sending looks his way as he fucked up the combination on his locker again because he’d gotten distracted by the feeling of eyes on him. Shuffle through the line at the cafeteria and play a half-assed game of one-sided charades with one of the lunch ladies. Turn around and head for no-man’s land in the back corner.

Before he could reach that last step, two hands came down on his shoulders, steering him out of the line and towards the table from yesterday, their owner ignoring the surprised yelp of Jesus! and pressing Gareth back down in his seat from yesterday. Eddie collapsed into the seat at the head of the table next to Gareth, flashing him a toothy grin like nothing had happened in the library yesterday. Confused, Gareth set his tray on the table slowly.

No one seemed surprised to see him, giving him little smiles when he caught their eye as he looked around. Okay. Maybe he belonged here now. Hard to tell when no one really explicitly said that to him. He’d belonged at the band table because he was in band, but he wasn’t in band anymore so maybe he belonged here?

The blond guy—Mickey?—was looking at Eddie and said something. No, wait, he was mouthing it, because he was exaggerating the word the way people who could hear did when they talked to someone they couldn’t.

What the fuck does ‘kitten’ mean? Gareth wondered, suspecting the comment was about him but he couldn’t work out why. He probably didn’t read it right. That had to be it.

He didn’t get a chance to wonder about it any more than that, because his attention was being dragged back to Eddie, who’d flopped a small stack of comics next to Gareth’s tray and gave them a little nudge towards the sophomore. When Gareth just looked at him, he gave them another little nudge. Gareth glanced down at the cover of the top issue. Hawkeye.

Gareth raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously trying to get me to read Hawkeye?”

Eddie nodded happily, mouth forming three words Gareth couldn’t hear: Just read it.

He didn’t get it. Eddie acted like nothing happened, dragging Gareth to sit with his friends and bringing him comics and just… Gareth was waiting for the but in this whole thing. You can be our friend, but… But what? He didn’t have anything to offer. Maybe it wasn’t what he offered. Maybe some adult out there somewhere was looking at Eddie’s little gang more favorably because they included the freak. Gareth tucked the comics under the table on his lap, safe from the horrors of meatloaf and gravy.

Who even puts gravy on meatloaf? Ketchup all the way. Gareth did his best to scrape the brown sauce aside so he could eat. He saw the white flash of paper out of the corner of his eye and didn’t need to actually look over to know that Eddie was trying to talk to him. Gareth cut him a sideways look to see what he wanted.

Do you like DnD?

Gareth had no idea what that meant. He squinted a little, brows furrowing together. Apparently, that wasn’t the wrong answer because Eddie lit up and snatched the notepad back to start scribbling furiously. When he finally did hold it up, Gareth could hardly read it. He took the pad from Eddie so he could try to make out his excited, spiky handwriting.

It’s a fantasy rloepla roleplaying game! You make up a character and go on an adventure together and the DM tells the story and the party makes descion decisions to change how the game goes. It’s alot of fun + we all play together. Wanna play w/ us?

Gareth was a regular at the arcade and knew his way around ruining his sisters’ day with a game of Monopoly, but he wasn’t sure what a roleplaying game was. He did like fantasy, though—fearless knights and dragons and damsels in distress, so maybe it would be fun? The DM tells the story part made him hesitate though. Was it like reading a choose-your-own-adventure book aloud and figuring out what page to turn to together?

He handed the notepad back. “Like a board game or…?”

“Oh! No, it’s with dice and we talk it ou—oh,” He started excitedly answering the question, before realizing that there was more than one issue. Gareth just looked amused, at least, not pissed off at him for forgetting.

No, he wrote, it has dice but we talk through it…

Eddie cringed as he held it up, looking apologetic. Another thought struck him, and he added another line before holding the notepad back up.

We can try to write it down? The point is anyone can play…

The bell must’ve rung, because Eddie’s head snapped up and the cafeteria started to empty around them. Frantically, Eddie scratched something else down as he stood.

What’s your next period?

“Free. Library nap.” Gareth answered, gathering up his tray and carefully tucking Eddie’s comics under his arm so they wouldn’t get ruined before he could stash them in his locker. Eddie flashed a thumbs up. He was a fan of the ol’ free period nap—usually off campus, though.

Gareth let the crowd carry him towards his locker, dropping out of the current to press against the row of metal doors and work the lock of his own locker. He twisted it open and gave a yank on the sticky door. It didn’t give, but the whole bank of lockers shook as a familiar figure collapsed against the locker next to his and earned a startled squeal.

Gareth didn’t even think before hauling back and punching Eddie’s shoulder.

“Stop scaring me! Asshole,” he growled. He didn’t know how much of the venom it lost because he couldn’t hear how squeaky his voice got, but Eddie could and Gareth could see his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter. He gave the door another angry yank and it opened, smacking his chest and narrowly avoiding his face as he reared back.

“Yeah, yeah. Real master of stealth here, sneaking up on the deaf kid,” Gareth grumbled, pulling out his books for his last period so he wouldn’t have to come back for them after his little break, “Regular James Bond here, folks.”

Somehow, Eddie had his fuckin’ lil notebook already in hand and was scratching out a note.

I’m literally not sneaking. You just don’t notice shit.

Gareth scrunched his nose as he read. Hey, he was trying. It’s not like this deaf thing came with a manual. No one taught you how to just go deaf one day and carry on like normal.

“Sorry I’m fuckin’ new to this then, I guess. Shit, man…” Gareth wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or Eddie, but hell, it didn’t really matter. The notebook appeared in front of his face as he rummaged through his locker. He pulled back a little so his eyes could focus on it to read.

Wanna talk?

“No, I wanna go sleep in the library until next period.”

The pad was yanked away and Gareth finished finding what he needed and bumped the door closed with his elbow.

You’re either a little too young or a little too old for afternoon naps, dude.

Gareth rolled his eyes. It wasn’t Eddie’s business. Gareth didn’t owe him the whole sob story that was his life this past year. Still, Eddie was following him down the hall towards the library, sauntering after Gareth and easily keeping up with the shorter teen.

Gareth waved hi to Ms. McNally as he breezed past the circulation desk and headed for his new favorite study carrel. She watched curiously as Eddie trailed after, also waving hi with an easy smile. She’d just started at Hawkins High, but she’d been warned about that one.

It was hard to ignore Eddie, Gareth had to give him that. God knows he was trying, but it also wasn’t like he could just drop his head to the desk and pass out when someone was literally staring at him. And to think he’d stressed out about heading into school all alone because none of his band friends stuck around after that life-changing ER trip. Now he couldn’t be alone, either.

He could see a flash of a yellow pencil moving out of the corner of his eye as he tried to look like he was reading his textbook. The notepad slid comically slowly across the page, inching along as one finger nudged it into his field of view.

What’s with the naps?

“What’s with the stupid questions?”

Eddie’s Bambi eyes clouded with hurt for a moment.

Are you always this much of a dick?

Gareth snorted, reading the scrawled question. “Not when I get a nap.”

Eddie seemed to weigh his thoughts for a moment before setting his pencil to paper.

Ok. Fine.

1) want me to wake you up for the bell?

2) DnD Saturday?

Who even is this guy? Gareth wondered before nodding slowly. “Please. And uh… gotta ask my mom…”

Eddie looked like he wanted to laugh, but Gareth cut him off, “I’m fifteen, dude.”

It wasn’t that Mrs. Emerson was likely to say no—she’d probably be over the moon he had someone who wanted to hang out with him. But the freedom he’d earned to ride his bike wherever he wanted back in middle school was revoked now that he couldn’t hear traffic. He’d argued with his mom for months that he had eyes and he could look, but she wasn’t ready to let him, yet. So… he needed a ride. From his mom.

Eddie held up his hands in surrender, still smirking but reaching for his notepad again.

Ok, ok. See you at the bell.

Gareth after a forty-minute snooze was a whole different person, Eddie noticed. He jerked awake when Eddie nudged him a few minutes before the bell, but once he got his bearings, all the annoyance and snippy expressions had vanished and didn’t return. He didn’t even have that little wrinkle between his brows that Eddie’d just thought was a permanent part of his features. Shit man, he wasn’t kidding about the nap.

Eddie hadn’t minded keeping watch over the sleeping sophomore—he was missing woodshop and he could slide through that class with his eyes closed. Besides, he had a new paperback to read and while normally he wouldn’t bother ditching class inside the school… well, no one found him and made him go back to class this time so it was whatever.

He even had another note prepared, carefully written and torn out already to give to Gareth.

For Saturday:

Eddie M.

812.785.2923

Gareth unfolded the note and looked at it when Eddie handed it to him, breaking into a snicker.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“For your mom,” Eddie explained, somewhat slow and trying hard to be clear. He’d noticed Gareth could read lips a little, but not as much as people thought, probably. He still would probably write him notes, anyways. He seemed to like the notes, when he wasn’t in a pissy mood.

“Oh,” Gareth looked down at the paper and folded it carefully to tuck it in his pocket. Yeah, his mom would probably want to grill Eddie for the details when Gareth asked to hang out. “Thanks.”

“See ya tomorrow,” Eddie said once he had Gareth’s attention again, giving him a playful salute as he sauntered backwards, before turning on his heel and heading to his final class of the day.

When Gareth got home, his mom was in the kitchen, starting dinner. She smiled and waved hi to him as he headed to his room to drop his bookbag on his desk. Gareth dutifully returned to the kitchen after for their afternoon game of charades and lip reading as she asked him about his day. His mom had always wanted to know how school was… just now Gareth knew she was secretly worrying about how he was getting along for a completely different reason. He hopped up on the counter, out of her way but where he could watch her, swinging his legs a little.

“Good?” She held up a thumb, eyebrows raised as she looked at him. When it was quiet like this, he could sort of make out the sounds of her words. She dropped a lid on the sizzling ground beef in the skillet, muffling the sounds enough he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He nodded, “Yeah. It was fine.”

Gareth liked when he could see her relief lighting up her face. She looked stressed out all the time now, and he hated knowing it was because of him. His mom flashed him a sunny smile.

“Homework?” She prodded, lips careful and precise around the word.

“Yeah, it’s all written down,” He told her. His teachers were supposed to type up a list of all his assignments and the details for them each week to give him, part of the plan the school had put in place to try and make sure he was successful.

“Lunch good?”

Gareth hadn’t told her about Eddie and Jeff and Kim and the others yesterday. He’d come home sure he’d fucked that right up with his temper, so there wasn’t a reason to give her false hope he was making friends. But today seemed… okay. Like Eddie had shrugged off his temper tantrum.

“Some seniors and juniors had me sit with them today. They were nice. Wrote me notes so we could talk,” He shrugged like it wasn’t actually a huge deal. His mom smiled and quickly turned back to the stove to check the meat she was browning, but she wasn’t fast enough for Gareth to miss her eyes glassing up with tears.

“They play DnD…” He began slowly, watching the set of her shoulders for clues about what she was thinking, “It’s a fantasy game. Y’know, knights, princesses, dragons… kinda stuff? They asked if I could come play this weekend?”

His mom tipped her head back, hands resting on the counter on either side of the stove as her shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath. Her eyes were still glossy when she turned around but she smiled and stepped over to hop up on the counter next to him.

Her only son, her oldest. He’d always been short for his age, a little softer than the other kids and round-faced. Shy and sensitive, but he’d started to find himself last year in band. The older kids had been good mentors and had given him a place. She had worried endlessly about him before, but now…

Gareth could see her overthinking, so he leaned over and tipped his forehead towards her. She tipped her own face to press her forehead against his, the way they’d done since he was a toddler.

“Bonk,” he murmured, and she echoed it even though he couldn’t tell.

“Anyways,” Gareth continued, pulling away and shifting so he could fish Eddie’s note out of his pocket. He offered it to her, “Not like this will do me much good but if you wanna call and ask about it…”

She took the slip of paper and unfolded it to find a phone number and a name.

“Want to go?”

Gareth was chewing his lip as he processed, but then he nodded.

“Want me to call now?” She held her hand up to her ear, thumb and pinky extended to mimic a handset. He squirmed a little in his seat then nodded. He really wanted to go, but ugh, having to have his mom call and set it up like a playdate…

“Homework first?” She confirmed, fixing him with a pointed look. Gareth nodded again, quickly this time. He knew the deal. Homework had to happen first, always. He’d get it done before Saturday. Mrs. Emerson patted his knee and slipped off the counter to go call.

It was physically painful to watch his mom call what might be the only person he could maybe kind of call a friend… and he couldn’t even hear her side. Resigned to his fate and deciding to distract himself, he hopped back down to take over working on dinner.

His mom leaned on the wall next to the kitchen phone, listening to it ring. Finally, someone picked up, sounding a little out of breath.

“Munson residence.”

“Hi, this is Janet, Gareth’s mom. I’m calling for Eddie?” She surreptitiously checked the note to make sure she had the right name.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, you just caught me coming in. This is Eddie.” His tone instantly warmed up.

“Hi, Eddie. So, Gareth was telling me about this game you invited him to this weekend…?” She started, trailing off and hoping he could fill in some details.

“Oh, yeah. Dungeons and Dragons. Listen, if you’re worried about, like… the whole… cult thing… it’s just a game. A really nerdy game, honestly. It’s just a lot of acting out silly voices and talking and collaborating…” He was rambling nervously.

Well I wasn’t worried until you said that… she thought, but she interrupted him, turning away a little so Gareth couldn’t read her lips if he was looking, “I’m more worried about… just, uh… do you think he can? Play? If he can’t… do the silly voices? Or talk about it?”

She could hear Eddie blow out a breath before he answered. “I, uh, I think we can try and make it work. Might be a little slower to write it all out, but we’ve been doing that. It’s not like the rules require you to hear to play. We just have to figure it out.”

“You’re okay with figuring it out?” Janet twirled the phone cord around her finger, “You’re… okay, you seem nice so don’t take this the wrong way, but you can’t invite him and then decide he’s too much work. Please, don’t invite him if you’re not sure. I’ll be the mean mom and say no if you want to back out.”

“What?!” Eddie sounded scandalized, “No! Gareth’s a cool dude. Hell of an attitude on him but… Um, Mrs…?”

She realized he was waiting for her to supply her last name. Polite, that one. “Emerson.”

“Mrs. Emerson, yeah. We’re kind of… not exactly cool ourselves? Kind of a collection of weirdos, so… par for the course, really.”

She was quiet for so long, Eddie wondered if she’d hung up on him. “Mrs. Emerson?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. Um… where do you meet and what time?”

Gareth was still stirring and sneaking looks at his mom’s back when she finally hung up. He lifted his eyebrows a little as she turned around. So? She nodded and watched him break into a grin. Now that she thought about it, that might have been the first time she’d seen him really smile since it all happened. She reached for the pad of paper that lived on the kitchen counter for this very purpose and started writing.

He’s happy you’re coming. Meet at 11a. I have the address. Homework done BEFORE you go. What kind of cookies do you want to bring?

Janet might have been young when she had Gareth and might not be the most experienced mom, but she knew cookies were really good at helping to make friends. And maybe it was the Midwesterner in her that wasn’t about to send her kid somewhere empty-handed. She patiently watched his blue eyes flick back and forth as he read. He flashed a thumbs up.

“Snickerdoodles?”

“Okay.” She nodded and pressed an obnoxious, smacking kiss to his forehead, laughing as he pulled back, nose crunched up and wiping his face on his sleeve. She caught his attention again and pointedly tapped the work homework in her note.

“Yeah, okay. Going now. You got it.” He held up his hands in surrender. If she told him to cut the lawn with scissors, he wasn’t going to argue, because he had a… playdate. His mom had set him up a playdate, but fuck it, he wanted to go and wasn’t going to jeopardize it.

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

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No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

#no steve this time (he's there in sexy spirit) but you get more gareth AND some max #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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samgelina-jolie · 1 year

Text

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

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