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#steve harrington/eddie munson/chrissy cunningham
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Summon me Senpai
This is a dead end fic that I may pick back up someday, but for now I leave you all with this insanity. Enjoy some Demon!Steve.
“Watch it Munson, you’re gonna smudge the line!” Grant huffs as he pushes against Eddie’s legs, which are already tucked into his chest, trying to complete the line of the circle that Eddie’s sneakers are already nudging against. Grant has the steadiest hands out of all of them which is why he’s drawing the elaborate as fuck summoning circle they’re all trying not to fuck up right now.
“Remind me why we had to do this in your fucking shed Jeff?” Eddie whines, trying to squeeze himself even smaller while glaring at his best friend and guitarist. Jeff is also squished up in a corner like him but he keeps dealing with a rake almost falling on his head.
“You wanna be in charge of explaining what we’re doing to my ma if our stupid asses get caught drawing a demon summoning circle on her floors.” Jeff gives him the driest look he can manage with a few pieces of hair caught in the prongs of the rake.
“Uh no, no. I like not being skinned alive, thanks.” And with that he pipes down as Grant finishes up with the circle and Gareth lights various candles at strategic points. Eddie doesn’t even really believe in this stuff, none of them do. It just keeps people from messing with them. This was the product of boredom and Gareth’s garage being out of commission for practice.
“Aww come on guys, we so totally gonna summon a spooky demonnnn.” Gareth teases holding one of the candles under his chin and snickering. Eddie refrains from telling him that’s the way people talk about ghosts, but just barely.
“Yeah sure. Speaking of, what are we supposed to say to summon a demon?” His knees are starting to ache so he tries to shift into a more comfortable position. He braces one arm against the shed wall to help when he realizes that his foot has also fallen asleep, fuck. The wood groaning under his weight is not much of a comfort either.
“What do you mean?” Grant asks, eyeing Eddie’s movements distrustfully. Honestly it’s understandable because Eddie has two left feet even when one isn’t currently full of awkwardly painful pins and needles.
Eddie freezes before cracking his neck around towards Grant, “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?! There’s always some sort of weird Latin dead language chant with this kind of shit. You can’t just summon a demon by batting your eyes and saying ‘notice me senpai!’” He says with batting eyes and clasped hands.
Now, Eddie is a dramatic fuck by nature, he can’t resist the chance to overdramatize anything. It has led to him tripping over bleachers, falling into lockers, and on one memorable occasion tripping over his own feet in a spectacular dive off the school theater’s stage. So he’s not exactly surprised when his still waking up foot gives and causes him to hit the ground hard on his knees, right on the line of the summoning circle. What does surprise him is that the entire circle starts glowing.
The smell of smoke infiltrates his nostrils but all of the candles are still in the correct place. There’s an unfamiliar pair of shoes in front of him that are attached to some light wash jeans none of the band would be caught dead in.
“You know, I normally ignore calls as stupid as yours but I just had to see who had the actual audacity.” Continuing his visual ride, Eddie sees tanned hands on hips and a bright yellow sweater before finally looking into the face of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Chestnut locks, hazel eyes, a map of moles he's salivating to put his mouth on. He opens his mouth to explain but all that wants to come out is filth.
As if able to read his mind the snarky, bitchy curl of his lip melts away to a dark, almost pitying look. The demon(?) clicks his tongue and crouches down, pouting at him exaggeratingly. “Aww, poor baby doesn't know how to talk to boys does he?” He pauses and glances around at the rest of the band who sit frozen around them, “present, equally nerdy company excluded.” He amends.
“There's no fucking way you're a demon.” Eddie finally blurts out. The demon throws his head back and laughs, it would be a beautiful sound if it wasn't dedicated to mocking him. He scrambles back to his feet, not comfortable with feeling so much like prey pinned under the demon's gaze.
“Just didn't feel like dressing up for someone who wasn't going to put the effort in. You guys didn't even sacrifice anything, what kind of satanists are you?” The guy seemed perfectly fine still crouching down and looking up at Eddie but something about it made Eddie feel wrong. Like the demon was allowing Eddie to loom over him to make him think he had power over him.
“We're not satanists man, just a very bored metal band.” Eddie steps closer, into the line of the already ruined circle, and offers the demon his hands to help him up.
The demon looks at him curiously, eyes wide and watching his hands warily, like he's waiting for Eddie to pull back with a laugh. Eddie continues to hold the position, even making a grabbing motion when the demon starts to reach out but hesitates. After a short wait he finally accepts. Warm hands slide past his palms to grab his forearms, eyes studying Eddie's face with deep confusion, before finally gripping and allowing Eddie to lift him up.
“You know you broke the circle right? There's nothing holding me back from wreaking havoc on this world, from killing all of you.” The demon points out once they're both standing. Eddie realizes that they're the same height and that throws him more than anything. He kind of always assumed if demons did exist that they'd be like eight feet tall with red skin, horns, tail… the works. But this demon just looks like a small town pretty boy, like the kind of guy he'd see walking the halls at his high school and crush on from afar.
“I think that ship kinda set sail when you responded to ‘notice me senpai’ with a yellow sweater.” Eddie plucks at the fabric and it's softer than he had imagined. He finds himself rubbing it between his fingers and only after realizing that he's sorta still holding hands with the demon. But the demon isn't exactly pulling away either, just watching Eddie's hands with this small smile that he's pretty sure would be devastating if it was aimed at his face.
“I suppose that's true.” He twists his hand around, freeing it from Eddie's hold, and takes his fingers instead, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's rings. “So, what do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“Dude, did you seriously summon a demon without a deal in mind? Worst. Satanists. Ever.” The demon laughs and he was right, it is beautiful. Soft and breathy, even though he's still being laughed at. This one sounds more fond than condescending.
“We're not satanists, and why would we think to make a deal with a demon when we were pretty sure you didn't even exist?” Eddie shrugs and allows the demon to twist his rings around his fingers and rearrange them like he's playing a game with himself. He glances around at the rest of the band still standing frozen and wonders why he's not panicking more.
“I could give you fame? Fortune beyond your wildest dreams. Women or men, anything in between.” This feels more like a spiel than anything genuine from the demon, like he's reading off of a list of the most common demands.
“While that's a nice offer, no thank you. We want to get famous because the music we write reaches people like us. Not because they were made to like it. I've been poor my entire life, I won't say that money isn't a huge temptation, especially if it means I could repay my Uncle for taking me in.”
“It still sounds like you're saying no though, so what do you want?”
“Do I have to make a deal?” Eddie asks curling his fingers around the demon’s hand nervously, “Do I lose my soul no matter what?” The other man shakes his head with the most regretful look Eddie’s seen on the demon yet.
“I can ask one of your bandmates if you don’t want to make a deal, leave it up to them. But the deal certainly doesn’t have to be for your soul. There are other things you can trade, or offer. A sacrifice of sorts.” He leans in and inhales deeply at Eddie’s neck, letting out a shudder in response. “I can smell your interest.”
“What if I gave you a kiss?” Eddie offers, hoping that the demon can’t tell that he’s blushing. Wait, can he smell it? Going by the smirk on the other's face he definitely can.
“And what would you like in exchange for it?” The demon says, clearly playing along. Eddie has got to be the weirdest person to ever summon this demon before. And he probably wasn’t about to change that fact any time soon.
“A date? And perhaps your name.” While the money was tempting Eddie wanted it to be on his own terms. It was the only thing he could think to ask of the beautiful man standing before him.
“Call me Steve sweetheart.” Steve purrs as he pulls Eddie in for a filthy kiss. His tongue is longer than any humans and Eddie almost chokes as he feels it snake towards his throat. “Hmm, we’ll have to work on that. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Dress nice.” And with that the demon takes Eddie’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A new ring forms on Eddie’s ring finger, now free because Steve had rearranged them, a delicate silver band with a pure black stone in the center. Eddie had a feeling that no matter how hard he tried he’d never get this ring to come off.
He looks up to ask but Steve has disappeared and time seems to be moving again as Eddie now stands in the center of the ruined circle.
“Dude what the hell?! It took me almost an hour to draw that!” Grant looks ready to strangle him but Eddie is honestly still too rattled to think about it.
“Sorry, I gotta… I gotta go.” He bolts out of the shed only stopping long enough to snatch up the book that Gareth had gotten the damn circle out of before throwing himself into his van and driving to Chrissy’s house.
Her window is open so without thinking he shoves the spine of the book in his mouth and bites down before jumping to grab a branch from the tree outside her window and scrabbling up until he can dump himself through it into her bedroom.
“Fucking Christ Eddie I almost brained you with this!” The woman in question hisses from where she’s sat at her desk, an algebra book held at the ready. Eddie spits the book out and pants on her floor, he’s not fit enough for this. Thankfully Chris knows him well enough to tell when he’s a wreck so she abandons her homework and quickly comes to lay with him on the floor.
“What’s wrong Eds?”
Eddie takes a few more heaving breaths before he finds himself able to answer, “I made a deal with a demon.”
“You mean metaphorically right? Right?” She grabs his vest in her fists and looks like she’s ready to shake him. The wide eyed look on his face tells her all she needs to know and she does sharply shake him this time. “Spill. Now.”
“We were just fucking around! Famous last words I know but we weren’t being serious about it. Grant had just finished the stupid circle and asked what we were supposed to say to even summon a demon, which hellooooo are you serious? Gareth was talking like we were trying to summon a ghost, we weren’t even goofing around with anything in the book! I was making a joke, saying that you couldn’t summon demons by saying ‘notice me senpai’ but guess who’s eating crow on that one because apparently you can!”
“Let me make sure I have this straight so far, you Eddie Munson summoned a real demon, with a joke, and they answered.”
Eddie nods wildly and Chrissy buries her face in his chest with a groan, “I hate you, so much.” He shuffles onto his side to face her, the pair of them curled together like commas, legs tangling together and foreheads pressed to each other's.
“You loooooove me.” He counters making both of them giggle, Chrissy rocks her head against his and he closes his eyes, tipping further into the comforting motion. “He just looked like a normal guy. Was wearing a soft yellow sweater and fucking white Nikes. No horns, no hooves, just… like he'd have gone to school with us.”
“Appearances are deceiving Eddie, pretty sure you and I are a prime example of that.” She bites her lip looking nervous again, her fingers tighten in his shirt and tug, “what did you give him Eddie, what was the deal for?”
“Well, he said I had to make one. Offered me money, fame, sex the whole nine yards blah blah blah. Then I asked if I had to give him my soul, and he said no! So I said I'd give him a kiss if we could go on a date. Which I'm kind of only now realizing is a pretty weird thing to ask.” Eddie gives her tiny, unenthusiastic jazz hands as he finishes his story. “Oh and then he put this ring on me, pretty sure it's so I can't run away.”
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fuctacles · 17 hours
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@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 1/3 for easier reading on tumblr, but will be posted as a one-shot on Ao3 later | thanks @stevesjockstrap for beta-reading and mental support 💚
T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider by me
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The shop was never busy. Aside from Valentine’s Day and Christmas, it was a lot of goofing around and packing online orders. And since it was pouring on a Tuesday afternoon, they expected no customers until closing, which was more than okay with them. They didn't choose it because it was popular. They chose it because their younger friends were too embarrassed to bother them here. 
“It’s getting pretty bad,” Steve points out, squinting through the window. “I don’t wanna drive in this weather.”
Robin looks up just in time to catch a flash of lightning splitting the dark clouds outside. 
“Maybe it will let up before we close.”
Thunder crackles above them, and Steve raises his eyebrow skeptically.
“We can wait it out in the pizzeria across the street,” she offers then.
“I like the way you think.”
There’s a loud bang as their doors slam open, letting inside some of the summer storm carnage. Despite the size of the shop, they can feel the cold rain on their faces, and for a second, the sound of the storm is deafening. It cuts off as suddenly as it started but is replaced by loud, displeased sounds of two figures drenched to the bone.
“Holy fucking shit!” a wet rat dripping on their floor curses loudly. He shakes his hands creating a small waterfall down the lapels of his leather jacket. The figure next to him drops down the hood of their jacket with a wet smack.
“Holy shitting fuck,” she agrees.
“They better be selling towels here.”
“Uh...” The unhooded figure, a short blonde, looks around curiously. “I’m afraid not.”
This prompts the guy to peel the wet hair away from his face and look properly around.
“Did we just walk into a fucking sex shop?”
“You did, yeah.”
The two turn to the desk when Steve speaks up. 
Next to him, Robin flinches, and he senses something weird from her, like a brain equivalent of an exclamation mark. But he doesn’t think much of it, assuming it might simply be a reaction to the pretty girl in front of them.
“We have a radiator in the back, I could take your clothes to dry,” he offers the newcomers.
“No, we—”
“Are you seriously going back out in this weather?” The girl looks at her friend with raised eyebrows. He scoffs.
“No,” he admits petulantly.
“I can make you guys some hot tea. It’s not like anything is happening here anyway,” Robin pipes up.
“That would be great, thanks.” The blonde lights up gratefully, and Robin squirms. 
Stave takes it upon himself to gather their wet things, afraid his friend might combust if she comes any closer to the girl. When he’s hanging the clothes, she is uncharacteristically quiet, so he turns to her and cocks his head.
“What’s up?”
She frowns at the mugs she's pulling out.
“Her.”
"Huh? She’s cute, isn’t she?" He grins.
“I think I could hear her,” Robin clarifies. 
Steve straightens up immediately and walks towards his friend. She’s looking back up, worrying her bottom lip under her teeth.
“Do you think they are dating?” He motions to the front of the shop where they can hear the other two talk. She looks at the clothes scattered around the backroom. A denim vest, two black jackets, and a hoodie. Judging by the size and style, they all seemed to belong to one person.
“They could be like us,” he points out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. He isn’t either.
“Or she could not know.”
That would complicate things, wouldn’t it?
After exchanging a few heated looks they trail back to the front and Steve hands the teas to their intruders.
"Thank you." The girl smiles sweetly, though her gaze slides towards Robin.
Steve gives his friend a pointed look but she's too dazed to even flip him off. 
"Thanks." The guy blows on his tea, keeping his gaze mostly on the window and the storm outside. "We'll take a look around and won't bother you guys," he says, giving his companion a pointed look before disappearing into one of the sections. 
Steve knows it’s bad to stereotype but the assortment of strap-ons is not what guys like this usually go for, and his brain gets whiplash with the sudden onslaught of images he's not proud of. The tall guy wearing black and chains getting pegged by his tiny blonde girlfriend? It kind of suits him. He tries not to think about it.
They give them space to roam around the shop and whisper to each other while they finish their duties for the day and start closing up. 
"Guys? We need to close in fifteen minutes!" Steve would feel bad for kicking them out into the storm, but the rain clouds have moved, turning the onslaught into a light drizzle.
It's only after they leave that Steve looks at the tattoo on the palm of his hand. Surprised at what he sees, he shakes it experimentally. The d20 lands back on the same number.
“Hey, look.” He holds it up for Robin to see. “I’ve never rolled a twenty before.”
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Three days pass and Steve can't stand it anymore.
He slaps his hand on the counter, making Robin yelp.
“You’re thinking about her again!" 
“I’m sorry!”
Steve shakes his head.
“No. Don't care, no sorries," he says with finality. “We’re finding her.”
"We go to the same school!" she protests. "I think. I mean, I'll run into her eventually!"
But Steve won't take that chance, tired of all the sighing from her brain, and decides to find the girl they've met. He figures the easiest place to find high schoolers is at the mall so that's where he goes.
With all the groups of friends and couples passing by, he feels even more like a loser than usual, being there all alone. But he's on a mission, so he won't let that deter him. 
That is, until one of the faces he sees in the crowd gives him a pause. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize what's familiar about one of the three girls coming at him, but when the memory hits, he panics. Letting his flight response take over, he ducks into the nearest open door to avoid his ex. 
After making sure the group has passed him without notice, he lets himself breathe. He's taking in the shop he stepped into, a record store full of tapes, vinyls, and band merch,  when a voice startles his adrenaline levels back up.
"Well, well, well. How the tables have turned. Running from a gaggle of women, are we?"
Steve turns to find the metalhead who ran into his shop a few days ago, smirking at him.
"Just one." He shakes his head, instinctively looking back behind the glass door. "Really don't feel like running into my ex right now."
"Must be happening a lot, huh?" The man leans on the counter that separates them. "My friend told me you're quite the casanova."
Steve spots his opportunity and grabs it.
"The girl from the other day?" he asks.
"Yes?" The guy's eyes narrow. 
“So you guys are friends?” he adds to clarify before he uncrosses his figurative fingers.
“Yes? Why else would we hang out?”
Steve feels his cheeks heat up under the man's suspicious stare.
“Well, you could be dating.”
The guy snorts.
“Yeah, I don't see the local freak bagging the head cheerleader. The fact that she can even stand me is enough.” Then his eyes narrow again. “Why? You interested in Chris?”
Chris.
“No? Well, kinda, but not… exactly.”
Steve has never felt less smooth in his whole life. And judging by the guy's expression, it shows. Whatever he was trying to sell, he wasn’t buying. His brain scrambles to salvage the situation and comes up with a painfully honest solution.
"Look, I just graduated and my friend group has fallen apart." He yells at his brain-to-mouth wires but keeps going anyway. "And you guys seem chill, I thought the four of us could hang out, or something?"
If the 'you suck' board still existed, he'd fill it out with tallies himself. 
The man doesn't seem convinced and he opens his mouth to tear him to shreds probably, but then somebody yells from the back of the store:
"Eddie! A little help, please!"
And the guy, Eddie, gets reminded he's at work.
"Coming!" he yells back, and on his way there, throws Steve a quick string of, "Great seeing you again, we'll think about it, we know where to find you, bye!" before disappearing behind the back door.
After such a disastrous interaction, the last thing Steve wants to do is go back out into the mall full of people. But staying here to risk Eddie looking at him like that again was the more humiliating option. He turns around, planning to lick his wounds at home before reporting his findings back to Robin. For the hundredth time since finding her, he wishes they couldn't read each other minds. Because all he can think of is making a complete loser idiot of himself in front of a cool metalhead dude, and he knows she won't let him live it down. Maybe the Scoops board will make a comeback after this.
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“Chrissyyyyyy!”
“Eddieeeeee!”
The rest of the cheer squad does perfectly synchronized eye rolls when their captain jumps down the human pyramid to greet her friend.
“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “You’re early. We’re not done yet.”
“I got some news.” He taps his fingers on the small partition between them, ignoring the cheer practice in progress. “Bad ones and good ones.”
“Bad first,” she says with a decisive nod.
Eddie opens his mouth but then frowns and closes it.
“It won’t make sense if you don’t hear the good news first.”
“Oh my god! Just spill it!”
“So, they’re almost surely not dating.”
“The sex shop guys?”
He nods.
“Okay, and the bad one?”
“Steve seems to be into you.”
“No!” she gasps, scandalized. Eddie snickers.
“Yeah. Sorry sweetie." His smile turns more apologetic.
Chrissy makes a face. Then she keeps making faces until Eddie can’t help but snort and slap her playfully.
“Stop! What are you thinking about?”
“I mean he’s kinda cute, but gives me repressed gay vibes.”
Eddie chokes but she keeps going.
“And his friend? His friend is just hot.”
“Ehh, I guess.” Eddie shakes his palm, making his friend roll her eyes.
“You’ll never understand the beauty of a woman in suspenders.”
“More women in suspenders for you then.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Chris! You going back or what?” one of the cheerleaders behind them yells out, barely containing her annoyance.
“I’m coming!” Chrissy yells back. She turns to her best friend, her soulmate, with a dazzling smile. “You joining in?”
“You know they hate it when I do,” he points out.
“And you love it that they hate it.” She smirks like the evil little gremlin she secretly is.
“Fuck yeah, I do.” Eddie grins, climbing over the partition to join the cheerleading squad. A couple of girls groan, knowing what’s coming next but none of them dare to protest. If their captain’s soulmate wants to perform a perfect cheer routine, putting their months of practice to shame, there’s nothing they can do except blame the fates.
Eddie drops his leather jacket on the bleachers and does a couple of stretches in perfect sync with his friend. They grin at each other while mirroring each other’s movements without a word.
“If only you could read my mind during math exams like that,” Chrissy teases.
“Okay, shut up.” He rolls his eyes with fake annoyance. Yeah, it would be convenient, but he got a cheerleading routine memorized in his muscles instead. He’d be complaining if Chrissy wasn’t so fun to be around.
Despite his involuntary knowledge of the routine, none of the other girls fully trust him, so he usually ends up working mostly with Chris, tossing her in the air and catching her when needed.
“You should join us for the game,” she asks as always, after jumping down from his arms.
“I’ll think about it,” he answers as always, patting her head. She huffs, swatting his hand away and fixing up her ponytail, now loose from practice.
“Wanna go grab pizza?” she asks casually and he immediately goes into suspish mode. Chrissy rarely proposes eating out together. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that his girlie is starting to eat better again, but… He doesn’t let his suspicion show when he asks:
“Sure. Any place in mind?”
She hums, but it’s a short hum. Very 'i-already-had-a-place-in-mind' like.
“The one with the Ninja Turtles poster?”
“You mean the one across the adult toys store?” He raises his eyebrows.
She blushes a fierce red and he knows it’s not because of the sex shop thing. He grins, wide and teasing.
“You wanna see that girl again.”
“Maybe,” she huffs defensively. “Okay, yes, so what?”
“So nothing.” He shrugs innocently. “Grab your things and we’ll go.”
“Yes!” she pumps her hands in victory, a dorky move Eddie’s proud to have taught her, and runs off to grab her backpack. She snatches his jacket before he can, overly eager to get moving. “Let’s go!”
He can’t help but laugh while trotting after her towards his van. 
The inside of the store is brighter than they remembered, what with the sky being clear this time. It looks surprisingly normal until you take a better look at the contents of the boxes on display. A sex shop during daylight just lacks a certain ambiance.
The preppy-looking guy behind the counter doesn't match the vibe either.
At the sound of customers, the guy looks up.
"Hello! Oh, it's you guys." He visibly relaxes, realizing it's not his usual run-of-the-mill customers. 
"It's us indeed." Eddie smiles, confidently strutting up to the counter. "Has anyone ever told you you look out of place here?"
Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Has anyone ever told you not to judge someone's sex life by their looks?"
Eddie raises his hands placatingly.
"Fair enough, man. I'll back off." However, the comment made him insanely curious about what a guy like that would be into. Behind him, Chrissy gently kicks him in the ankle, prompting him to take a look around. "Alone today?"  he asks with a curious tilt of his head.
"Yeah, Robin is tutoring after school today. Why?" His eyes narrow. 
"No reason, no reason." 
Chrissy kicks him harder and he smiles through the pain.
“What is she tutoring in? I’m having trouble passing the last grade.”
It takes Steve a moment to answer, like he's measuring how much information he can give away.
“Foreign languages.”
The words are barely out of his mouth when Eddie snaps his fingers.
“Perfect! Can I get her number or something?”
The kick is so hard this time it jostles him forward and he glares back at his friend. It also attracts Steve’s attention to Chrissy.
He smiles at her, a bit unsure and shy. It rubs Eddie the wrong way and he can feel his hackles rise. 
“Chris, right?”
“Chrissy,” she corrects, slightly scrunching her nose.
“Oh, sorry. It’s nice to see you again, Chrissy.” He smiles, more genuine this time.
“Uh, you too. Steve.”
Eddie clears his throat, hoping to come off as rude as possible.
Steve looks back at him and his expression shifts immediately. It’s almost a scoff.
“Listen, I don’t just give off my best friend’s number to random guys. But if you give me yours, I’ll pass it on.”
“Works for me,” Eddie says with the tightest approximation of a smile he can manage. “Do you have something I can write on?”
Steve looks around for the pen and notepad that are never in their designated spots and never together. He finds them under the keyboard.
“Here.”
But Eddie isn’t taking the items from him. Steve wiggles them like he would attract a pet or a child, but it doesn’t work. He’s about to make a snarky remark when the guy speaks up first.
“You have a D20 tattoo.”
“Huh?”
Steve is losing his mind.
But then he remembers that he does indeed have one and it’s partially visible when he’s holding out a pen like that.
“Ah, right.” He opens up his fingers and shakes his palm, causing the dice to roll. “It’s my soulmate mark.”
“Dude, that’s so dope.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with marvel and Steve’s throat tightens. “You rolled a twenty, does that mean anything?”
Steve shrugs.
“I don’t know. One of my friends is a Dungeons and Dragons nerd and he told me it’s a luck thing? He freaked out pretty badly when I kept rolling ones on vacation, but nothing happened.” He smiles, fondly remembering Dustin’s panic. 
Eddie hums.
“Man, having a functional D20 tattoo would be so fucking cool. I’m kinda jealous here.”
Steve snorts.
“Yeah, Dustin told me that too.”
Eddie finally takes the writing utensils from him, eyeing him contemplatively.
“I’m guessing you’re not a DnD nerd yourself? Considering you get your info from a friend?”
Steve chuckles.
"Yeah, no. Though I do get a lot of brain chatter from my soulmate."
"Brain chatter?" Eddie picks on curiously. 
"Uh, yeah. I dream up whole campaigns and know lore I've never really studied. The kids go bonkers over it."
"Kids?"
Eddie's feeling both stupid and entranced by the guy. 
"The DnD nerd? Dustin?" Steve says with annoyance that poorly covers up his fondness. "He comes with a full set of other nerds. A party, if you will. They just started high school and no, it's not weird that I know them. I used to babysit them and they just kind of..." He waved his hand. "Stuck on. Like parasites.
Eddie barks out a laugh. 
"They sound delightful."
"They have their moments," Steve admits. Then they both stare at the number Eddie has scribbled on the piece of paper handed to him. 
"So uh, see you around?"
"Yeah." Steve smiles. It's genuine and pleasant this time. But then, to Eddie's chagrin, he looks to the side. "You too Chrissy. Come over anytime. Maybe you need some tutoring too?"
"Uh, thanks, I'm good. Good luck finding a DnD nerd soulmate," she says, her tone weird. Eddie can't blame her. He wouldn't like being so blatantly hit on either. He could already feel her tugging on his jacket. 
"Thank you," Steve says, smile turning a bit wistful. His eyes turn back to Eddie, away from his poor, sapphic-leaning soulmate. Good. He waves the note with the numbers. "I'll let her know you're interested but no promises. And hey, if you're into DnD too maybe you'd be interested in DMing for a bunch of freshmen?" 
"I'll think about it," Eddie manages, slowly backing away, the force behind Chrissy's pull increasing. "Thanks, man. And, uh, good luck with the soulmate thing too!"
"Thanks."
The doors close in front of him and it feels like a curtain has just separated him from a whimsical spectacle.
"What the fuck was that?" Chrissy and Eddie ask each other in unison, albeit in vastly different tones. 
"Huh?" Eddie frowns at his friend. She had already turned around and was pulling him towards the pizzeria across the street.
"Don't huh me! You forgot I was there!"
"I didn't!" He kind of did. For a teeny tiny second.
"You were clearly flirting with him."
"What? No, I wasn't!" he bristles. He'd know if he was flirting with someone.
She looks back at him sternly when they reach a table of her choosing. She plops down heavier than a tiny cheerleader should be able to and takes on a mocking, high voice.
"Oh man, I'm so jealous of your soulmate. Yes, I will play with your kids. Here's my number."
"I said no such thing," he hisses, sitting down across from her. 
"Might as well." She shrugs. "You were interested in him."
"Well, he's an interesting person!" Eddie defends.
"Yeah, the preppy, vanilla high school heartthrob that is clearly not into the same stuff as you, other than his connection to his soulmate," she deadpans back. "Wouldn't have guessed."
"Shut up," he huffs, crossing his arms.
"Eddie, he asked you to hang out with his kids, himself," she points out.
"These are not his kids."
"You're so focused on the wrong details here. Do I have to wingman for you as well? Because I will. Just say the word."
Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. He knows his friend means well but it's just too much.
"Chrissy, stop. I don't need someone who has a soulmate with a matching, kick-ass D20 tattoo waiting for him somewhere. Probably a busty, nerdy girl, too—"
"Ew."
"Yeah, I know. He just seems interesting, and honestly? Expanding the party would be cool. So I might take him on the DMing thing I guess. But please, for the love of gods." He makes fierce eye contact with his friend. "No matchmaking. No wingmaning. Or wingwomaning. No setting Eddie up with a probably-heterosexual dude, who is probably into you."
A shudder goes down Chrissy's lithe body.
"Please don't remind me."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I'm really hoping I'm right about his friend." She drums her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "Maybe it's stupid but I feel like it would magically solve everything. He'd get over me, I'd get to bone his friend, and you'd get a new friend with a kick-ass nerd tattoo." She beams at him and he just can't help but laugh at his little ray of sunshine.
"I hope you're right too." 
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rogueddie · 21 hours
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happy gay month, here's some of my fave lil hcs <3
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stevespookington · 5 months
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have YOU read carve your name into my chest by @hexiewrites and LOVED the hockey steddie experience??
have YOU wondered what fake hockey rpf IN that universe would look like??? what ARE those fans writing while watching steve and eddie play out their rivalry in that epic fic? 🤔 (or hockey memes in the case of the art above hehe)
well LOOK NO FURTHER because my wonderful friend @maxineholtzmann has a SMORGASBORD of wonderful smutty fics written as tie-ins for the carve hockey universe!!
steve/eddie/tommy? try some part of me came alive!
steve/eddie/chrissy? try but i can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down
AND three other truly epic fics!!
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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What if Steve is a famous model and Eddie is a rockstar, both still pretty down to earth that they move around without bodyguards...
They bump into each other at a corner, and literally bump into each other - Steve somehow lost his contact lenses and he's half-blind without them, his agent Robin is traveling, he'd rather lose both of his eyes than to call his parents, and so he's trying to get to a pharmacy/optometrist/somewhere else just based on memory and touch.
Eddie is walking, not paying much attention and listening to music, when he's knocked back by a very apologetic squinting guy who might as well be very pretty, if he looked straight at Eddie - which is very much not possible, as Steve later explains, Eddie is a very blurry blob to him, although a very kind blob. Also a really nice sounding blob.
When Eddie collects his things and his heart off the streetwalk, he offers to walk Steve to the pharmacy. After asking if it's okay, he offers Steve his arm and leads him carefully to his destination. Steve is still mostly staring at the ground, trying to fight blurry nausea, so Eddie doesn't really know what he looks like, except that his hair is magnificent.
They reach the pharmacy, Steve is so thankful that he wants to invite Eddie for coffee, but before he can do that, Eddie receives an urgent call from his agent and needs to leave.
They both - not without a tinge sadness - think they won't see each other again.
Except the next day there's a wave of tabloid headlines: "CORRODED COFFIN'S EDDIE MUNSON FINALLY SETTLES DOWN?! THE ROCKSTAR SEEN WITH REDKEN'S MODEL STEVE HARRINGTON!" and there are pictures of Steve and Eddie, side by side, and it really looks like a romantic walk rather than what it was.
When Eddie's agent Chrissy calls, half-amused, half-concerned, Eddie stops her with a single sentence: "Can you get me his number?!"
Chrissy snorts in the phone. "Give me an hour."
It takes her 33 minutes in total, and she secures a date with Robin for herself as a bonus.
And as for Eddie? He opens his message with "Hey Steve, how come you never told me it was a date? I would have brought flowers!" and gets an immediate response of "You would have, huh? Then bring some today at seven, the pizzeria next to the pharmacy. I like sunflowers. See you there, Eddie. And this time, I mean really see you."
The "see you" jokes stay with them for the rest of their lives.
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mardyart · 2 years
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actual deleted footage of stranger things season 4 trust me guys
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arelliann · 10 days
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This one goes out to @corrodedbisexual for the ref and idea because I couldn't resist having a go
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m00npiez · 9 months
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Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
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Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me
Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.
The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.
So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.
His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.
And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.
During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.
He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.
Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.
God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.
Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.
As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.
As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.
"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"
The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.
Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.
The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.
By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...
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Eddie showing up in Season 4 like:
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sp0o0kylights · 8 months
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Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
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kitchen-spoon · 5 months
Text
Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.
He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.
When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.
That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.
Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?
Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?
“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”
“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.
All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”
“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”
Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
Text
aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)
“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“
Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 
“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”
“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”
Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—
He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 
“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”
Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 
“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”
“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 
“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”
“Steve!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”
“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”
“What,” Steve says. 
“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 
“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”
“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”
His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”
“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”
“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”
He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 
Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.
“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”
“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”
“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”
“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”
“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 
“Dyke,” he shoots back. 
“Cocksucker.”
“Carpet—“
“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 
“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 
“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”
Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 
“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 
“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”
“You thought I—how would I know?”
The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!
“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”
“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.
“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”
“You know what flagging is?”
“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”
“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”
“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 
“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”
“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”
Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”
He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“
“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”
“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”
Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 
They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.
“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”
“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“
“That’s—I like topping!”
“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 
“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”
Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”
“I told you he’s shy!”
“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”
“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”
“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”
“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”
Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”
“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.
“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”
“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”
“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”
“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”
“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 
“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“
“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”
“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”
Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”
“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”
“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”
Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”
Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”
“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”
He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”
“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”
It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”
Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 
“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”
“I figured that was a common occurrence.”
“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”
“You were telling me how awesome I am?”
“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”
“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”
He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”
6K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
Closing shifts at Scoops Ahoy are always boring, but Robin took off early to study and nobody is coming in for ice cream at 8pm on a school night in mid-winter. Steve's alone and has been for the last forty-five minutes, with no end in sight.
He's doing tricks with his scooper, counting how many times he can twist it through his fingers without dropping it (57 so far), when the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen, walks in. He's got long dark hair that falls in perfect curls around his shoulders; wide eyes the same deep brown of fresh, dark coffee; and the most perfect plump mouth.
Steve can't move, his head going fuzzy. His eyes catch on the man's chest--visible through the black mesh tank top he's wearing-- revealing tantalizing swirls of black ink and the glint of silver bars through each nipple. The guy also has on leather pants that cling to the line of his legs like a second skin.
Jesus. Steve just realized he's bi and the physical embodiment of his wet dreams walks into the store like it's nothing. He's going to die.
The man rushes to the counter, his eyes finally falling on Steve, and it's like his feet get caught on each other for a second before he struts forward. His face melts into this heart-stopping smile, bringing out the cutest set of dimples Steve has ever seen. This is it, Steve is done for, time of death, 8:06pm.
"Ahoy, sailor," the man says with a mischievous glint in those dark eyes.
He returns the smile and somewhere, somehow, finds the words to reply, "I think that's my line."
Steve leans towards the counter, but in doing so, drops the scooper hanging from his fingers. The metallic clatter is harsh against the tile, and blood rushes to his cheek. "Whoops," he mumbles. He ducks down to retrieve it, mentally kicking himself for his clumsiness.
The man's smile only grows, and now there's a faint flush across his pale cheeks. And fuck if Steve can't help but smile right back, to let their eye contact linger.
"What can I get you?" He asks. His voice is way too low for regular customer service, and if he flutters his eyelashes too--well, that's between him and the USS Butterscotch.
"I know this is ridiculous. It's late and it's starting to snow," the man says. He leans over the counter. "But I need a strawberry shake to go."
"Strawberry shake, good choice," Steve nods. "Coming right up."
They don't stop looking at each other or smiling as he blends up the drink, and when he hands the cup over, their fingers brush, linger, both their faces staining red.
"How much do I owe you?" he asks.
Steve shakes his head. "On the house."
"You really know how to charm a guy, sailor-boy."
"Maybe I'm hoping to see you again."
"Depends," the man says. His smile widening, his dimples getting somehow deeper.
"On?"
"How good this shake is." He winks.
Steve thinks he might burst into flame before the man can taste the drink, but then the guy glances at his watch and curses. "Sorry, sweetheart, I gotta run. Been a pleasure, sailor."
And with that, he runs from the store, strawberry shake clutched in his long-fingered grasp.
Steve collapses against the counter, burying his face in his hands. He's not ever gonna recover from that.
---
Eddie's guitar is in his lap, his melted strawberry shake at his side. He can't get the guy from the ice cream shop out of his head.
Fuck, he had all that perfect hair under that silly little hat; his face dotted with cute little moles and freckles; eyes that flashed from honey to gold to green flecked hazel; and the poutiest, most perfect lips ever had Eddie seen. Not to mention how he looked bent over in those itty bitty shorts. Shit, if he isn't totally done for.
He can't stop smiling.
That is until a guitar pick hits him right in the forehead, dragging his attention back to his surroundings.
"Earth to Eddie," their manager, Chrissy, says. "You go on in ten minutes."
"Don't tell me you didn't get the stupid shake." Gareth shakes his head.
"No, I got it. Not to worry."
"Then what's up with you?" Jeff asks.
Eddie can't help the huge, stupid smile that illuminates his face.
"There was a guy," Eddie sighs.
Chrissy and his bandmates share a look. "Let me guess," Gareth says. "You walked in and he was like 'Oh, Mr. Munson. Let me get you ice cream, let me suck your dick. Oooh, you're so hot. Corroded Coffin is my favorite band.'"
"C'mon, no. I don't even think he knew who I was."
At one point, that would've bothered him. But now, after five years of hooking up with dudes who were only interested in famous Eddie Munson, he likes that the guy from the ice cream parlor seemed totally oblivious. That, when his eyes lit up with interest, it was for genuine attraction and not name recognition.
"Did you get his number?" Chrissy asks.
He slumps. "No."
His friends all groan. Another guitar pick flies at him, getting caught up in his curls.
"Well, you'll go back tomorrow. Now get your head in the game, Munson! You have a sold out stadium to play!"
---
"I'm not kidding you, Robs, he was the hottest guy I've ever seen. I didn't even know dudes could be that beautiful."
"Uh-huh," she says.
"You're not even listening." He jabs her in the ribs, making her squeak.
"Sorry, sorry," she bats his hands away. "Describe him again?"
And he does, leaving nothing out. Once he's done, Robin is gaping at him, gum about to fall out of her open mouth.
"What?"
She grabs his wrist, dragging him out of the store.
"Robin, what are you doing? We're supposed to be working!"
She doesn't answer, just hauls him to the record store down the hall.
"Was it this guy?" She asks. She's out of breath.
"What?"
"Steve! Was it him?" She gestures to a new release display and it's Steve's turn for speechlessness.
He's surrounded of images of the man from last night; on magazines, CDs, cassettes, on a couple posters hanging on display. He's with a couple of other guys, they're in a band called Corroded Coffin, but all Steve can see is deep brown eyes and plush lips, the bright dimples.
"Well?" Robin demands.
"Yeah," he nods. "That's him."
"Oh my god!" Robin screams. She grabs his arm and squeezes. "You flirted with Eddie Munson! Steve! You minx!"
"It was nothing," he blushes. "He's probably got someone already, anyway. I mean, look at him."
Robin makes a little face. "There are some rumors, but nothing serious."
"It was a nice dream," he says. He gives her a little smile. "Now, let's get back to work."
She loops her arm through his. "Whatever you say, dingus."
---
It's been a long day of slinging ice cream. Maybe Robin's revelation that the cute guy from the night before was an insanely famous rockstar is to blame, but Steve is exhausted.
"Hey, dingus!" Robin calls from the front.
"Yeah?" he mumbles.
"Some guy is here for you. He looks a lot like Eddie Munson."
She's not even finished with her sentence before Steve is vaulting back behind the counter, coming face-to-face with the man of his dreams.
Eddie's gorgeous, his face already flushed a faint pink. And just like the night before, Steve can't help but smile at the man before him, who dimples up immediately in return.
He forgets that Robin is there until she says, "Go get 'em, tiger," and snaps him in the chest with a towel.
With Robin gone, they still don't say anything for a second, both smiling and blushing and staring at each other.
"So, uh, I guess you're wondering why I'm back today."
"That's easy," Steve says. "It was the best strawberry milkshake you ever had."
Eddie laughs with his head back and Steve is stuck staring at the long lines of his throat.
"Well, it was the best, no question. Made me realize I was a fool not to ask for your number."
Somehow Steve's smile grows. He jots his name and number on a Scoops napkin, passing it to Eddie who does the same, before carefully ripping the paper in half.
"We're still on tour for the next three months, but I'll call you when I can?"
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Talk soon, sweetheart," Eddie leans into Steve's space, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Steve still has a hand resting on the spot when Robin re-emerges.
"Oooh, you've got it sooo bad," she sing-songs.
He's so happy, he can't even bother to shush her.
---
Corroded Coffin has a new album out. It's a huge hit, number ones across the board, a fixture on MTV. It's full of heavy metal love songs, sales bolstered by the rumors that Eddie's been in a secret relationship for years.
They're at the Grammys, nominated for Best Metal Performance. The band has moved on down the red carpet, but Eddie's still answering questions, their assistant waiting with him. The interviewer asks Eddie, "There's a lot of speculation about your romantic life because of this album. There are rumors that the song 'Sailor Boy' is in reference to how you met your lover. Will you tell fans about the person you're dating, the one who inspired the album?"
"No," Eddie smiles for the camera. "But oh, do I love the way he moans," he sings a lyric of the song in question before giving the interviewer a lascivious wink, and continuing on down the carpet.
Years later, after Eddie and Steve are comfortably out and married and Corroded Coffin has cemented themselves in metal history, the video of that interview will be uploaded to YouTube.
It's obvious, now, the way Eddie and Steve, the "assistant", gravitate towards each other. How Steve flushes a pretty crimson that spreads below the collar of his shirt as Eddie sings. The way Eddie smirks at him with a raised eyebrow. The way his hand cradles the small of Steve's back as they walk away together.
It causes a frenzy online, fans compiling blog posts and videos of moments of Steve and Eddie being totally obvious about being in love before the world knew that they were.
Eventually, Steve posts a photo to the band's webpage. It's of him and Eddie at Scoops Ahoy. He's wearing his uniform, and Eddie is in a faded Metallica t-shirt and ripped jeans. They stand at the counter with their arms around each other, smiling hard, eyes locked. He captions it with, "putting the sailor boy allegations to rest."
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.
What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.
It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.
That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.
Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."
The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.
They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?
And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"
They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.
They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.
It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.
Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.
To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.
Suddenly, a car horn.
Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"
Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"
There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"
Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"
And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".
Eddie wanted to punch him.
But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.
Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"
A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.
"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"
They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.
The man completely ignored them.
"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."
All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".
The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."
Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."
Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.
"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"
Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."
And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"
Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.
Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.
But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:
"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."
Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.
"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."
And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"
Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."
Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:
After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.
The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.
Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.
And finally...
The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".
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xoxogabriella · 1 year
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Because every useless gay in Hawkins needs an emotional support bi disaster bff
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