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quixoticall · 5 months

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This Could Get Ugly Track 3: The Upside Down Tour

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: ANGST, drinking, drug use, some minor panic attacks, mention of serious illness and subsequent treatment (poor ill Will)

A/N: Hello! I want to say thank you to all of you for the lovely feedback! I know it's been a minute, but I've been extra busy because I had family visiting for the holiday! But we're back to regularly scheduled programming!

wc: 7.8k

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎹

***

ARGYLE: The first day of tour was always like the first day of school and summer camp and vacation all put together but that very first tour was all of that times a thousand.

They had these buses that had the name of the band on one side and our faces on the other, man, like huge Argyle and Eddie and Nancy and everyone else, it was crazy. Jonathan bought his camera and he took photos of all of us next to our giant selves as the crew was loading up. I sent mine to my mom.

It was all good vibes at the beginning, everyone was so excited. Hopper even brought his kid. We didn’t know Hopper had a kid before that. We didn’t know a lot about Hopper, actually. But it was nice to have the kid around, kept us all on our best behaviors, well during the day anyway.

***

February 1984, On the Road: Upside Down Tour

“There’s no way my jaw is that crooked, Robin come look at the angle of Big Steve's jaw, will ya?”

“Shut up, Steve, Jonathan’s taking my picture with Big Robin, have someone else measure the angle of your jaw!”

Steve turns imploringly to you and you can’t help but indulge him.

“Your jaw looks fine, Steve, very symmetrical.”

“Eddie, man, if you stand right there, and kinda lean this way, it looks like you’re eating yourself!”

“Ah, that’s sick, Byers come here and take a picture of me eating myself when you’re done with Buckley!”

“Hey, no fair, we were next!”

“Worry about fixing your crooked jaw first, man.”

“You said my jaw looked fine,” Steve turned towards you, accusingly.

“Hmmm, let me take a closer look,” you say, teasingly taking Steve’s face in your hands and making a big show of moving your gaze between the giant, two-dimensional Steve and the real Steve in front of you. You tilt his head one way, and then the next a few times over, pretending to be deep in thought.

“It looks fine,” you finally say, “no more crooked than the real thing.”

You punctuate your statement with a light tap on his cheek and he grins at you before coming to a realization.

“Are you saying my jaw is crooked?”

He chases you around the tour buses until you are both out of breath and then when Jonathan comes up to you, camera in hand, and the two of you pose stop to strike a pose that mirrors your giant selves, turned towards in each other, lips slightly pursed, as if preparing for a kiss. That kiss of course, never comes.

Things have been like this between you and Steve since the press tour, warmer, affectionate even, but with the understanding that there was no deeper meaning behind the affection. You were simply doing your job.

When Hopper is finally able to wrangle everyone onto their respective busses, you are already behind schedule. His threats don’t have their usual impact though, because even he’s been infected with the band’s giddiness at being on the road.

You think you even see him smile when he introduces his daughter, a soft-spoken girl named Jane who immediately asks everyone to call her El and looks about 15.

Something about Hopper feeling comfortable enough to have his daughter join the tour made you feel like there was a huge responsibility on your shoulders to be a good role model—a feeling you’d never really had before.

There was a lot about being on tour that was strange and foreign in a way that was specific to you, like bunking with Nancy and Robin on the tour bus.

“It’ll be like a slumber party!” Robin exclaimed. You could see Nancy’s eyes go wide behind her at this, almost as if she’s questioning what she’s gotten herself into.

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” you tell them, unsure if your reaction should be more like Robin’s or Nancy’s.

“Well, we are honored to be your first,” Robin says as she bounces off her bunk to sit next to you, looping an arm through yours and leaning her head on your shoulder.

***

EDDIE: The first stop of the tour was San Francisco—we got there two days before the show and checked into a hotel that was nice as fuck—well, compared to what I was used to, anyways— and they gave us all our own rooms down the hall from one another. I remember asking Wheeler if that was what college was like and she just laughed and said, “Kinda, but it smelled way worse.”

Everyone was so happy to be there, even me. It was a far cry from Corroded Coffin, sure. But at the end of the day, I was making music and even though I wasn’t really that close to the rest of the band, they were good people. Everyone respected each other and partied just the right amount. Wheeler did a good job of keeping us in line. Plus, we were still so wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, we hadn’t really fallen into our new old habits by then.

***

Once in the hotel, Hopper handed out room assignments and he even looking a bit apologetic when he lets you and Steve know that, at label’s request, you and Steve were assigned connecting rooms.

You didn’t have it in you to let the fact that Starcourt was controlling where you slept get to you and instead decide to try an enjoy where you are.

Nancy, who was as much of an older sister to the group as she was to her real family, had organized an evening of sightseeing for the band around the city during your first night there.

Walking through downtown, you had a hard time taking in the sites because you were too preoccupied watching Eddie. Eddie, who, from what little you knew of his past, never had the opportunity to travel, was like a child, taking in the sights, pointing to anything of interest, and excitedly exclaiming, “Can you believe that shit?” to anyone within earshot, including El and Hopper.

“You watch your mouth around my fucking kid, Munson,” Hopper had told him.

The entire drive to the Golden Gate Bridge he just kept saying “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” like he could genuinely not contain his excitement.

It was oddly endearing.

***

EDDIE: I know you know how fucking awesome the GGB is.

***

February 4th, 1984, San Francisco, CA. The Upside Down Tour

The same lighthearted energy carried over to the next day’s soundcheck and until a few hours before the show when a cloud of nervous energy seemed to descend all at once.

The entire time you were in hair and makeup all you could think about was all the different ways the show could go wrong. Were you prepared enough? What if the audience was a dud? Could you keep them entertained for two hours? Each question wound you tighter and tighter until you could not think straight and by the time you were set to go backstage you had half-convinced yourself to call it all off. But you immediately sobered at the sight of the madness that had overtaken your bandmates backstage: Robin was pacing from one corner to the next, wringing her hands and muttering to herself in a language you weren’t completely sure was English; Jonathan and Nancy sat huddled together on the floor while Nancy recited the setlist over and over again like a prayer; Argyle was sitting by himself in a corner, tapping his drumsticks erratically against his knees with one hand while trying to braid his hair with the other; Eddie stood utterly stock still hold his guitar in front of him in an outstretched hand, talking to it like they were having a conversation; and worst of all, Steve was nowhere to be found. You looked around for Hopper, but he was also missing, so you went to the next best thing.

“Nancy, babe, look at me,” you say, kneeling next to her on the ground.

Her eyes bounce up to yours and in them, panic.

“Nancy,” you repeat her name again in a way that you hope is calming, “I know that you’re nervous, but I need you right now. Look around at the mess that everyone’s in. I need you to help me talk them down. I need you to make them believe it’s going to be fine. I need you to believe it’s going to be fine, okay? Because it will be. And because I can’t find Steve.” You say the last part low, in a meek attempt to mask the panic that is seeping into your tone.

Nancy, who, as you had predicted, flourished in a crisis, hardens her jaw and narrows her eyes in focus.

“I’ll start with Jonathan and you go to Eddie, maybe we can get them to help us look for Steve in the bathrooms.”

You nod eagerly before making your way over to Eddie, who is still mid-conversation with his guitar. You approach slowly, careful not to spook him.

“Hey, hello, I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you doing okay, Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you like it’s the first time he’s noticed you were there.

“Who? Us? Yup, totally fine, just having a bit of a pep talk,” he says between haggard breaths. Where the hell is Hopper?

“Hm, yeah, see, the words that you’re saying and the way that you’re saying them lead me to believe that maybe you’re not fine,” you try to sound as gentle as you can when you say this and try not to flinch as Eddie turns to face you, his whole face taunt with fear.

“Well, it’s not like I’m not a total fraud and loser who completely blew it with his last band and is only part of this band because he sold his soul to an evil corporation that told the rest of you you had to let him play with you, right? Because then I would have reason to be nervous. Oh, wait—"

“Eddie,” you interrupt, reaching up to grasp his face in your hands, bringing him down to your eye level, “you’re being too hard on yourself right now, okay? You have earned your spot here just as much as anyone else in the band. You’re a great guitarist, and a great songwriter—almost as good as me—“ he lets out a breathless laugh”— and you’re gonna go on that stage tonight and be your usual talented self and blow their minds because you’re Eddie Fucking Munson, got it?”

“Got it,” he whispers, eyes blown wide, and at that moment you realize that you’re so close now your nose almost brushes up against his.

“Good,” you say, pealing your hands away from his face to fall at your sides.

“Now, do you want to do some deep breaths or do you think you’re good to go on?”

“I think I’m good,” he croaks out, still a bit out of focus, but much more mellow.

“Great. Now, can you please help us look for Steve? We can’t find him.”

“Steve?” Eddie repeats, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, we can’t find him anywhere and everyone’s freaking out and Hopper’s not here either so Nancy and I were hoping you could help us by checking the bathrooms.”

“Right, Harrington, your boyfriend. The bathrooms, I’ll go check.”

You watch as he turns away and heads in the direction of the bathroom and try not to think about the way his shoulders dropped, the tiniest amount as he did.

Then, you turn your attention to the still-pacing Robin. “Robin, honey, can you please look at me?”

***

EDDIE: It was 20 minutes until the doors opened and Harrington was nowhere to be found. Jonathan and I checked all the bathrooms in the building and nothing. Finally, I got the bright idea to go out to the smoking area, not sure why, but, to my surprise there he was. I’m not going to lie, he looked a total mess: pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself.

I asked him what the hell he was doing there. He asked if he could bum a cigarette. I said, “Didn’t know you smoked, Harrington.”

And he responded, “I don’t but the smell reminds me of my mom.”

That’s when I knew the situation was grim—if someone shares information like that about a parent, unprovoked, they’re probably losing it. It was also at that point that I knew I was totally out of my depth. I had half a mind to turn around and go grab one of the girls or Jonathan, but I didn’t want him to run off on me again.

INTERVIEWER: So, what did you do?

EDDIE: I stayed and let him bum a cigarette. We stood there for a minute, smoking. The guy was coughing up a storm but he kept going. Harrington was always like that—just kept going no matter what. Eventually I just straight up asked him if he was nervous.

He responded with, “Theoretically, I’m not nervous at all, but in a much more, like real sense, I am shitting it, man.”

To this day, I don’t think he knows what the word ‘theoretical’ means.

I asked him what he had to be nervous about, it was just a show, and he was half of the reason people were there to see us, plus he was too talented to bomb.

And then he looked at me with his big Harrington eyes and said, “I’m not worried about bombing I’m worried about everything else. Like, what if we get up there and we realize that everything we’ve given up, everything we’ve had to go through was for something mediocre and ordinary?”

I told him that was a stupid question and asked him what if it was the opposite. What if it was everything he had wanted? I mean he was halfway there already, right? He had the girl, the sold-out tour, it was only a matter of time before he had everything else he could’ve dreamed of.

I thought I was being comforting but that only made him freak out more because then he said, “The more you have, the more you can lose and I don’t think I could handle losing any of this.”

It took me a minute to respond because, I mean, on one hand, it was hard to sympathize with the guy who had everything I wanted and then some. On the other hand, though, I had been there.

So, I told him about Chrissy and rehab and Corroded Coffin and that whole shit show. Like a testimonial: “Local Fuck Up, Loses everything and somehow still keeps going!” I didn’t hold back either, I told him how much it sucked to fall so far on your own. I also told him that unlike me, he would never have to worry about that because he actually did have people looking out for him. That whole band was like his team, they wouldn’t let him fall like that, at least, not alone.

Something I said must’ve resonated because he snapped out of it after that. We finished our cigarettes and we went inside. Right on time too, because Hopper was about to send out a manhunt for him.

***

There were 10 minutes until the doors opened and Steve was still missing, and now, Eddie was gone too. Your mind flits to the possibility that you’ll have to go one without both of your key guitarists but even just the thought of that is too much to stomach.

Meanwhile, Hopper is back and yelling at everyone in the vicinity.

Robin, who’s at your side as the entire scene unfold, pulls in closer to whisper in your ear, “what if they ran away together?”

And just as you were getting ready to turn and ask her exactly what had possessed her to ask such a thing the two missing members of your band burst through the door harried, out of breath, and smelling of smoke, to come face-to-face with their furious manager.

Hopper dismisses Eddie with a wave of his hand and then turns his ire towards Steve.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Eddie as he makes his way to your side. You reach down and give his hand an appreciative squeeze for good measure.

“No problem,” he responds thickly, “couldn’t leave a queen without her king.” Something about his tone makes you wince.

After Steve had been properly chastised by Hopper, the stage manager calls for places and everyone begins to disperse.

You’re making your way towards the stage when Steve reaches out for your hand. “Hey, sorry about that,” he starts, “nerves got to me, I guess.”

“ You know you could’ve talked to us, right? We were all nervous, too. We could’ve been nervous together. We’re supposed to be a team, aren’t we?”

Steve looks more ashamed now than he did when Hopper was yelling at him.

“You’re right,” he says, “I promise to do better. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”

You smile back.

“I’ve got you and you’ve got me.”

And suddenly, the curtain rises.

***

ARGYLE: That night in San Fran we were a mess but then, you get us all on stage and it’s like none of that ever mattered. We were freaking rock stars, dude, and we were good too and I’m not just saying that because it was us— I would’ve been a fan even if I wasn’t in the band.

EDDIE: Yeah, we were all good, but what really brought people through the door was our lead singers. Them bouncing around on stage together, dancing and making eyes at each other—the audience loved it. They both knew how to play up to a crowd too. She would dance and move around the stage like a total natural—hot but not too hot, ya know? And Harrington had his cool guy act down pat. They were in total sync. It was like they belonged together.

***

Walking down the stage steps, your head was abuzz with the excitement and satisfaction.

The band had done a great job, even better than during rehearsal and the audience’s energy was addicting.

This had been what you were looking for all along.

Backstage, you had made sure to give each one of them a hug, even Hopper— as a congratulation, as a thank you, as an expression of disbelief that you were finally here. They all understood and they all returned the sentiment. For the first time it felt that you were all on equal footing as members of the band. For the first time, it felt like you belonged and that was worth celebrating.

Eddie’s the last one off stage, and for a moment you debate hugging him. You’re not too sure if he’d return the gesture, given your history. But to your surprise, his arms are already open and you fall into them. And then, he did something surprises you even further: he pulled you close, picks you up, and spins you around in his arms.

***

ARGYLE: I’m pretty sure he smelled her hair before putting her down.

***

February 28th, 1984, New Orleans, LA. The Upside Down Tour

A few weeks into the tour, Hopper pulls you and Eddie one morning while the rest of the band is off exploring the French Quarter.

“Hopper, can you do us a favor and let us know how long this’ll take? We’re supposed to get beg-nets with the gang today.”

“It’s pronounced ben-yays, Eddie,” you correct automatically as the two of you are ushered into the hotel room that doubled as your manager’s temporary office.

“Whatever it’s called, it’s fried dough with sugar and I refuse to miss that.”

“Can you two just sit down?” Hopper says exasperatedly motioning you two towards a couple of chairs that crowded his small, makeshift desk before sitting down himself and reaching for the phone.

“I got them both here, Murray,” Hopper says gruffly as the crackle of the speakers fills the room.

Before Murray can fully greet you on the other line, Eddie interrupts.

“Are we in trouble?”

“No. Should you be, Munson?“

“Murray, can we hurry this along? I’m taking my kid on a ghost tour.”

“Fine, fine, listen, kids, I just heard from Brenner and the Big Wigs—the rest of the tour is completely sold out which means that they want to start recording about five weeks after you get back from touring. This means we need songs by then and since you two wrote the best song on the last album, you’ve been promoted (with no pay) to main songwriters. So your homework is to get us at least 20 passable songs by the first week of July.”

“But we get back from tour in mid-June, Murray, that’s a really short turnaround time, don’t you think?” Your eyes dart to the other two in the room, to gauge their reactions.

Hopper shrugs, “Sometimes that’s just the way it is, kid.”

“Which is exactly why you two should start writing now while you’re on the road, trust me,” Murray’s voice crackles over the line.

You look at Eddie, who cocks an eyebrow at you as if he’s letting you know that it’s your call.

“Okay, we’ll start writing as soon as possible,” you speak out loud.

“That’s what I like to hear! We can check back in once you get to LA.”

The three of you say your goodbyes and Hopper dismisses you and Eddie to join the others.

As the two of you walk down the hall towards the elevators, your mind is already bubbling over with ideas. This was your first big shot to do exactly what you’ve always wanted to do. This was more than just writing a few songs, it was about creating an album, and an image of where the band was going. This was huge.

***

EDDIE: To be honest I never really thought about my writing process. I would just pull out a notebook and a pen and start writing when I had something I thought was good—little bits here and there. She took everything so seriously though. The entire elevator ride down, she was talking my ear off about concepts and inspiration and “sonic vision”. Eventually, I just had to say, “Listen, why don’t we meet up in your hotel room after the show tonight and talk about it then?”

***

The rest of the day, it was like only part of your mind was present. The rest was floating around, thinking about what you wanted to write.

Of course, you had plenty of things written, but you weren’t sure if any of that would work. The next album needed to meet the rising momentum of the band’s popularity: it needed to be current but also true to where you were as a band. You needed to say the right things—and most importantly, you needed to say them in the right way.

Before you knew it, you were back in the hotel after soundcheck, freshly showered, standing in the threshold that connected Steve’s room to yours.

“Are you sure that’s how it’s pronounced?” Steve's voice echoed from his bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth.

“I swear to you that it’s not pronounced Ee-too-fee, Steve. Why do you think the waiter laughed when you ordered?”

You come up behind him in the mirror running a brush through your still-wet hair.

“Because I’m naturally endearing and everything I say is charming,” he responds, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.”

Before he can retort, a knock thunders through your room into his.

“Oh, that must be Eddie,” you say, turning on your heel to cross the threshold into your room.

“Munson?” Steve asks, befuddled.

“Yeah, he’s coming over to start writing some stuff. Murray’s on our case, remember?”

“Right, I just didn’t think you’d start tonight.”

You just shrug before disappearing into your room, “The sooner we get started, the sooner we finish.”

You don’t hear his response because you’re already at your door, swinging it open to reveal Eddie Munson standing in the hotel hallway, guitar case in one hand and beat-up notebook in the other.

“The Eagles?” He asked, eyeing the logon on the oversized t-shirt you wore.

You bristle as your fingers brush against your shirt suddenly self-conscious of the length.

His gaze follows the movement of your hand and then settles right where the hem of your shirt grazes your thigh.

It takes you a moment to find your voice. “What can I say? I’m a woman of taste.”

***

EDDIE: I became an Eagles fan after that night.

***

You lead Eddie into your hotel room and gesture towards the small sofa in the corner for him to set his things down.

Before joining him, you peek into Steve’s room to see him fully peering through the door. “Night, Steve,” you say with a gentle wave as you move to close the door.

“Night,” he says back softly, his eyes bouncing from your face to the room behind you where Eddie was setting up his things.

“Night, Munson,” he says finally, voice a bit tighter.

“Goodnight Sweet Prince,” Eddie waves theatrically as you close the door between the two rooms and walk over to sit by his side.

“You two always leave the door open?” he asks, fiddling with his guitar strings.

The question makes you feel defensive.

“Um, no, not always, we just, say goodnight, sometimes we will talk about the shows a bit before. bed.”

Eddie quips an eyebrow at this but says nothing.

“Should we get started then?”

***

EDDIE: That was my first time writing with her. That was my first time writing with anyone else, honestly. She asked me a lot of questions: about what themes I wanted to include; what concepts I thought would fit; if I had seen any movies that I thought could be good inspiration. It felt like a job interview.

I could tell that she’d been thinking a lot about this, maybe too much, actually. So, I told her that maybe we just needed to slow down a little bit, talk about what we had first, and then go from there. She agreed, but she still seemed pretty wound up, so I suggested we bust open the mini bar and we drank for a bit. I think we were both a little nervous to share our songs. It’s something kinda personal, to share your art with someone, ya know? And it’s always worse when it’s someone you know in your regular life—it’s like someone slices you open and takes a walk around your brain but then you have to see them the next day at work or whatever and you have to pretend they haven’t just taken a tour of the best and worst parts of you.

And it wasn’t like we were particularly close back then, so there was some extra nerves there. Hence, the liquid courage.

***

You and Eddie are about two (maybe three?) shooters in by the time you decide to get properly started.

Eddie volunteers his work for the two of you to go through first and you’re secretly grateful as he hands you his beat-up spiral notebook and you splay it across your lap to read over what he has. Eddie leans in to read too, and in doing so, his leg is flush against yours. He’s so close that his hair brushes against your cheek when he moves and you can smell him—earthy like pine and a tiny bit like menthol cigarettes.

You realize you might be a bit tipsier than you had thought because it takes extra effort to focus on the words in front of you.

His first few songs are good, but they don't match the vibe of the band.

"Too metal,” you say to him, pointing out the songs you’re referencing.

“Yeah, that makes sense, those were meant to be for my old band,” he responds.

You know enough about Eddie’s professional past to know that he used to be in a metal band before joining The Downsides and that it ended poorly, but not much else.

You flip through a few more pages before a few lines of lyrics catch your eye:

Don’t remember who I was then

Can’t keep straight where I was when

What’s my name? Where have I been?

Where did I start? Where does it end?

You’re the one thing I hold dear

The only thing that’s crystal clear

I live and die if you’re near

And all the scars disappears.

“This is something,” you hold the page up to Eddie.

He reads over the lines and grimaces.

“I wrote that right after I got out of rehab a few years ago. It didn’t really go anywhere...as you can see.”

This realization is sobering to hear. Mostly because it enlightens you to how little you know about your bandmate. You spend a moment trying to categorize everything you know about Eddie and you come up sparse. You weren’t even entirely sure you knew how old he was.

He seems to take your silence as you process this as judgment because you feel him scoot away, his face and body angled away from you.

You reach out and lay a hand on his arm, and he freezes.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you say slowly, before picking up his notebook again, this time with a newfound care.

“This,” you tap the lyrics, “doesn’t need to go anywhere. It can just stay here or wherever you want it to.”

***

EDDIE: It wasn’t the reaction I expected from her, but it was really nice to hear.

***

You and Eddie flip through the rest of your respective songs, not really finding anything that both of you can agree on. There are a few stray lines that jump out from both your books but beyond that, there was nothing the two of you could agree on. It was pretty clear that you were both writing songs for artists that you no longer were.

Right around the third hour together, you both decide to call it a night, but only under the condition that the next time you meet, you’ll both have come with something brand new written.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you say, voice hushed as you usher Eddie to the door, “and thanks for letting me read your work.”

He just smiles in response, wide and beautiful and rare.

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll get there. This was just a test run,” he reminds you.

You watch him make his way down the hall Until he disappears but not before throwing one last, rare, smile your way.

Once Eddie is gone, you all but drag yourself to your bed, yearning for that special hotel-pillow softness when you hear another knock. This time, from the door connecting your room to Steve’s.

“Steve,” you pull the door open, “why are you awake? It’s like 4 AM.”

“Can’t sleep,” he mumbles. “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

His eyes are barely open and his hair is disheveled beyond belief. He looks young standing there in his worn-out pajama pants.

“Fine,” you say as you turn back into your room, “but I’m getting into bed because I’m tired.”

He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You make a beeline for your bed to slide under the covers and Steve, meanwhile moves towards the couch.

“Why can’t you sleep, Steve?” you ask, burrowing into your duvet, eyes already closed.

“I dunno, can’t stop thinking.”

“Thinking? You don’t need to be doing that.”

By the time he responds, you’re already asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Steve is still there, asleep strewn across the tiny couch, hair even wilder than the night before.

***

ARGYLE: Tour life was the best life. A new city every night, the music was good, the crowds were crazy and the drugs were plentiful. And the parties! My dude, the parties! After every show we’d end the night at some bar or club with the band, the crew and more groupies than a dude could ever want.

***

March 6th, 1984, Atlanta, GA. The Upside Down Tour

“You know, it’s not what you think.” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard over the sound of the thumping music of the basement bar that you’re in.

“What?” You ask the keyboardist.

She gestures subtly with a nod towards the corner that had been occupying your attention. Robin and Steve were huddled together in deep conversation, both leaning against the bar. A few spots away, Eddie sat with a pretty girl with locs. Over the last few minutes, you had watched as his hand made its way slowly up her thigh with an almost morbid sense of curiosity.

Your eyes turn back to Nancy, unsure as to why she would weigh in on the flirtation between Eddie and the groupie.

“Steve and Robin,” she elaborates, “I’ve seen you staring and I know what it looks like, but it’s not what you think. They’re close but just friends.”

Oh. Steve and Robin. Right.

“It doesn’t matter what they are and what I think of it, Nancy, because it’s none of my business,” you respond.

She turns to face you, clearly ready to argue something back but you cut her off.

“Where’s Jonathan? I haven’t seen him all night.”

A grimace flashes across her face for brief moment, nearly imperceptible, but you catch it.

”He’s back at the hotel room,” she replies tersely, “on the phone with his mom. Will had another surgery today.”

You wince. It was no secret that Jonathan‘s younger brother had fallen ill again. You had seen less and less of the bassist as the tour had progressed. He’d been spending any time that he wasn’t on stage trying to get ahold of his mom back home to ask about the progress of the youngest Byers boy.

You smile at Nancy in a way that you hope is reassuring and say, “Weren’t his chances of recovery high after his surgery, though?”

Nancy exhaled deeply, “If everything goes well, then yes, chances of recovery are high.”

She looks like she wants to say something more but cuts herself short. Her eyes float past you, to the newly appeared figure to your right. Steve.

He smiles in greeting, his arm falling to graze in between your shoulder blades. His pupils are blown wide— a dead give away that he had partaken in whatever substance Argyle had been touting earlier in the evening.

Even high, he seemed to pick up on the serious mood between the two of you and asks if everything is alright. You smile softly and nod, arm snaking around his back lightly.

Nancy sighs in response. “We were just talking about Jonathan, actually I think I’m going to go check on him. Have a good night, you two,” she says and she looks at you and Steve, her eyes catching on the points where your bodies touch.

As she pushes herself forward, ready to move towards the exit, Steve calls out after her.

The two of them lock eyes and they seem to be holding yet another silent conversation. While you can not decipher their secret language of raised eyebrows and scrunched noses, you can that they’re arguing about something and by the way their eyes keep bouncing to you, you can’t help but wonder if it’s you they’re arguing about and what you could’ve possible done to warrant that.

Whatever their argument is about, it doesn’t seem to come to a resolution based on the way Nancy scoffs at Steve and rolls her eyes before bidding her final goodbye.

“What was that all about?” You ask, when she’s finally out of sight.

“Nothing,” Steve says tightly, “Nance is trying to convince me she’s right about something that I knowshe’s wrong about and she won’t let it go.”

This catches your attention.

“Oh, yeah? And what possible could Nancy Wheeler be wrong about, pray tell,” you plea conspiratorially, turning fully to face him and drawing closer.

This leaves Steve gasping for words in a way that makes you wonder if he’s higher than you originally thought.

Before you can ask him if he’s alright, he freezes as he spots something over your shoulder a weird expression taking over his face. You turn, following his line of sight to Robin locked in a very intimate embrace with the female bartender that was serving her and Steve earlier in the evening. The bartender leans upward to catch Robin’s lips and you hear Steve hiss, “Damn it,” under his breath.

Of course, this must have been the thing that Steve and Nancy were arguing about. Steve and Robin must be in a fight.

You scan back through your recent memories of them wondering if perhaps there had been signs of a growing rift that you may have missed but as far as you’d noticed things were normal between the two of them.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry,” you sooth, finally turning back to face him.

“Don’t be, it’s only $50,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. He must really be higher than you thought.

“What?”

“The bet was only 50 bucks,” he explains, way too calm for someone who just saw the girl he’s in love with kissing another girl in a crowded bar.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” you say slowly, before the realization dawns, “wait, is this some where sex thing the two of you do? Listen, as much as I like you both as friends and appreciate that you trust me with the details of your romantic relationship, we’re still, like, coworkers and I don’t really think I should be hearing what the two of you get up to intimately—“

“Woah, woah, woah, romantic relationship? Me and Robin are not in a romantic relationship and we definitely are not intimate in any sense of the word, and the fact that you think that makes me want to barf, actually. Why would you think that?” He asks, a wildness coloring his tone.

“Well, you’re always together and you’re so close, and you’ve always been so secretive, sneaking around together and stuff,” you struggle to answer under his confused gaze.

“No, we’re friends, capital ‘P’ platonic,” he explains, “always have been, always will.” He can clearly tell you’re still confused because he then begins to explain further, “ The bartender, and her have been flirting all night, but Robin was too chickenshit to make a move so I bet her $50 that she couldn’t get her phone number by the end of the night but it seems like she got more than just her phone number. Which I guess is a good thing because maybe now she’ll stop moping about that girl back in LA but it sucks that I’m out $50.”

“Wait, Robin dates girls?”

Steve winces, as if the realization of what he’s told you has just now hit him.

“Sorry, that was not my information to reveal. Please, don’t mention it. Please. It’s not that Robin doesn’t trust you or like you it’s just that she’s trying to be extra careful about it. She doesn’t want it to get, you know, out out. Especially with all the new press we’re getting.”

You nod back in understanding, “don’t worry, I won’t say anything. To anyone. I promise. I would never put Robin in that spot.”

Relief immediately runs through Steve’s features.

“Although, if she wants to keep things under wraps,” you begin, glancing back to where Robin is still kissing the bartender, “maybe she doesn’t want to be making out with women in public?”

Steve nods rapidly in response, “Yup, good call, we should take her back to the hotel.”

Rob proves to be a stubborn drunk, and it takes you and Steve about 20 minutes to cajole her out of the bartenders arms and into the back of a cab.

She spend the entire ride back to the hotel going on and on about ”star-crossed love” and the “malignant force is keeping her from her beloved disguising themselves as friends”. In response you simply nod along and your hand up and down her back in a way that you hope is soothing.

“At least you two have each other,” she says softly, patting your cheek as the cab slows to a stop in front of your downtown hotel.

Then, as she steps out onto the sidewalk, her stance wavers and she leans in, essentially pinning you to the side of the cab.

You think she might try to kiss you too, but instead she whispers, “Please be careful with his heart. Steve’s softer than you think, you know.”

***

It’s a joint effort between you and Steve to put Robin to bed.

Makeup is gently removed, hair is pulled up, and pajamas put on, and a slumbering Robin is safely tucked into bed with a receipt with the bartender’s number and $50 bill placed on her nightstand, ready to greet her in the morning.

“She’s gonna be so hung over tomorrow,” Steve remarks as the two of you amble down the hallway to your own rooms.

“Does she always get like that when she drinks?” You ask.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, all, Shakespearean and nonsensical? She was saying all sorts of weird things back there. I think she even thought we were together. Which is actually kinda funny considering early tonight I thought the two of you were together,” you chuckle at the irony.

Steve, however, looks distraught at this observation. Suddenly, he stops in front of your rooms and turns to you.

“Is that why you’ve been acting so distant with me, because you thought I was with Robin?”

You blush.

“Partially, sure,” you stutter, “it’s hard to pretend to date your bandmate when you think he’s in love with your other bandmate. But, I also think it’s good that we maintain a healthy distance.”

“Why?”

The severity in his voice when he asks that takes you by surprise.

“Well, because it helps us remember that none of it’s really,” you admit, carefully.

You struggle to meet Steve’s eyes when you say this because, while it’s a fact that your relationship is a farce, speaking that out loud feels particularly cruel.

You catch the movement of his throat as he swallows thickly but you can’t brave a look at his face.

When he finally speaks, his voice is unsteady, “If there was no Starcourt and no contract and you and I were just two normal people, would you want us to be real?”

He sounds so scared you can’t help but reach out for him, trying to offer some comfort. He accepts your small hand in both of his, thumbs grazing the back of your hand with much more gentleness than you’ve ever been offered. Than you think you deserve.

You can’t help but meet his gaze then, and the way he looks at you, vulnerable and hopeful is nearly too much to bear.

“I don’t know,” you begin, tears building at your lash line, because you truly don’t.

You think back, in earnest, to all you’ve come to learn about one another and how easy it is to be around him. You think about the way you find comfort in his touch and he in yours. And you think about the two of you performing and how every time you’re on stage with him, it feels like there’s no one else but you and Steve.

The shrill ding of the elevator brings you crashing down to reality, to the dingy hotel hallway and the beautiful boy in front of you with the pleading eyes.

Footsteps and giggles make echo down the hall, coming closer. Both you and Steve turn towards the noise, temporarily forgetting your very serious conversation.

Suddenly, Eddie appears around the corner, the pretty girl from bar on his heels.

He stops abruptly at the sight of you and Steve. You turn your face in the other direction, quickly. You don’t want him to see you in this state, teary and distressed, especially not while he’s with this beautiful stranger, so you hide yourself against Steve’s chest.

There’s a terse quiet that follows while you’re sure Eddie assesses the situation.

You can tell by the way Steve gently curls his arm around your shoulder that the two of them must be having some weird silent standoff.

“Wait,” you hear Eddie’s companion shrill, “are you Steve Harrington and—“

“Yes, that’s them, sweetheart, in the flesh,” Eddie cuts her off and you can hear them start moving down the hallway again, “How about we give the lovebirds their privacy and you and I pick up where we left off in the cab?”

You listen to their footsteps growing fainter and fainter and when you’re sure it’s just you and Steve, you pull yourself out of his embrace, to face him once again.

“What I want doesn’t matter, Steve,” you admit, sadly, “not when everyone is depending on us fulfilling our contract.”

He sighs, “I don’t understand why we can’t fulfill the contract while being together? Wouldn’t we be more believable if we didn’t have to pretend? If it was actually real?”

He didn’t get it.

“Maybe, but what if things go badly? What if we’re happy for a little while but then we realize we can’t stand each other? Then what? We either break up the band or we are forced to keep pretending just like we are now but this time, we hate each other? ”

You think of your parents and how they lived separate lives for as long as you could remember, speaking to each other only when absolutely necessary. You’re sure they didn’t intend to hate each other at first.

“What if we find out we really like each other?” He argues back gently, “what if things work out great and we’re happy?”

You wouldn’t know how to do that. No one ever taught you how to love without it hurting.

“No,” you say, sadly shaking your head, “someone will just end up getting hurt.”

Steve clutches your hand tighter, one final supplication. “If someone has to get hurt, I’ll make sure it’s me.”

Full tears are streaming down your face now as you gently pull your hand out of Steve’s grasp.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you tell him, turning away from him while you still can, leaving him standing alone in the hall.

PLAY NEXT TRACK

Taglist:

@rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter @mystargirl-interlude @brinleighsstuff @thegaysaretired @nothing2-see

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #jonathan byers

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cyberwears · 2 years

Text

Poly! Steve harrington and Eddie Munson X Male! reader

Prompt: "Hi :) would you possibly write a male reader with poly! steve and eddie? Either as a fic or head cannons, whichever you like!" (REQUEST)

Pairing:Steve harrington X Eddie Munson X Male!reader

warnings: mentions of weed, mentions of bullying and fights,

I was so excited for a request like this and now I have it! I hope to do you justice. this is not proof read. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Eddie

You try and get eddie to sit still long enough to braid his hair (it doesn't work)

Eddie wont let any people touch his hair other than wayne before you came along

You and eddie were together before steve entered the mix

You and eddie got the reputation of “fruit freaks”

When you guys got into fights or jumped eddie tried to defend you but only got beat up more for “resisting the punishment”

You play in hell fire sometimes and are really close with gareth and jeff

You always hangout at band practice and go to their shows at the Hideout

After you graduated and Eddie had to repeat his senior year you tutored him

Stargazing out by Lovers Lake

BED HEAD omg

Eddie prefers soda over coffee or tea in the mornings to wake up with

When he stretches he kicks his leg and does the little spasms when he gets up.

He claims “It shakes the sleep off my weary bones”

He learns how to make paper rings for you

He put on his rings on a chain for you after seeing you stare at it while cuddling

SPEAKING OF CUDDLING

This man is a little spoon all the way (unless you had a bad day then you kinda just lay on top of him

Obviously this man smokes weed so if you’re allergic to it he goes outside or on the roof of the trailer

If not then he asks if you wanna smoke with him

Clingy. Always likes some skin contact. (hands, ankles if hands are not available.)

OMG he loves kissing you EVERYWHERE

PET NAMES AND COMPLEMENTS (prince charming, my king, Lovebug, handsome. Even refers to you as a greek god some days)

Definitely has a polaroid of you in his van AND wallet “that way you’re always with me forever”

You stole his sweater once and he almost tackled you in kisses saying “you look amazing in my clothes”

He spends alot of time reading to you after school/work

Steve

Started off platonic (sharing a mutual friend of Nancy)

No longer friends with Nancy and defend him till you were blue in the face

Graduating same class as him

After hearing Nancy dumped him for Jonathon you quickly came to his aid and took him on a long drive to comfort him

Held him while he was crying

Before he realized you and eddie were together he kissed you in a spur of the moment decision

He was horrified to learn that you were in a relationship and felt bad after the kiss (you said it was ok and it was never mentioned again)

He coming over and asking you advice on how he was feeling and “how to tell that you like men”

You happy helped him if it helped him move on from Nancy

Tended to his wounds after Starcourt with a very frantic “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED”

You introduced him to Eddie and could see Steve falling very fast for him

You worried you would lose Eddie to him because they got really close really fast

“I would never take him from you. I see how he looks at you. His eyes are on you 1000%”

Renting movies and watching them at his house

Swimming in his pool late at night

Trying (and failing) to make you small gifts and bracelets

Getting butthurt when you agreed with the group of kids he ended up babysitting all the time

Steve is a coffee man all the way

messing up steves hair just because he spends so much time on it

Steve and Eddie:

Cuddling together (you all rotate who is middle, the others on the outside hold hands basically caging the one in center in.)

If you have long hair steve and eddie love styling it (short hair, playing with it)

Long night drives and arguments over whose music taste is better (steve and eddie. You never cared to argue the point that both genres have their respective strengths and weaknesses

Off hand comments about how steve uses to much hair product and how eddie doesn’t use any (getting an offend look from both)

If in arguments or disagreement you kiss one of them to shut them up

Taking steve to see Corroded Coffin play

They both suck at taking care of themselves period. You act more like a parent than a partner sometimes (“did you eat breakfast?” “…” “here eat this”)

You wouldn't trade it for the world though

You both scream for eddie when he graduates

You and Steve always carry hair ties for Eddie since he “always loses them”.

You tease both of them about their respective highschool callings and nicknames

Blurb Below

You wake up and look towards the clock on your bedside table, 6:53 AM. Letting out a whine and a soft remark on how tired you were, you move your gaze from your clock. Becoming acutely aware of the weight on either side of your body and the soft sensation of warmth to either side of you a soft grin overtakes your features. As you look to your left and see a wild mess of black curly hair and relaxed features, hearing the soft snoring of Eddie Munson, your boyfriend of 3 years. Giggling you sink further into the bed to the best of your ability and shift to your right to see short blonde hair. sticking up in spots and the not so soft snoring of Steve Harrington, Eddie’s and your other boyfriend of 1 year.

You lay as still as possible and gently brush the hair out of Eddie's face as the sun starts rising over Hawkins, Indiana. The curtains moved with the sway of the breeze from your open window, carrying the warm summer air into the room. You look between your boys and admire as the ever waking sunlight cradles their faces gently, as one would hold a newborn kitten or flower from a garden. Looking back down you see the boys pinky fingers interlocked on the blanket about where the soft plush blanket meets your hip bones

After laying in the bed for about an hour or so (you take in every crevice on Steve and Eddie’s faces the whole time) you feel a shift on the right side and an arm wraps around your waist as Steve's bare arm tightens and pulls you closer. Sighing you scoot to face him as his breathing changes and his face becomes a tad bit less relaxed. You kiss his forehead as he cracks his eyes open. You watch as he blinks the sun and sleep from his eyes and a wide dopey grin slides over his features as he moves his head just enough to place his soft lips on yours. Taking note to disregard the morning breath you kiss him back just as gently as he did you seconds ago.

“Good morning bug” he croaks out the dumb nickname he picked up form Eddie and sits up against the headboard. Causally, you reach up and smooth out the wild spots in his hair, him gently and playfully slapping your hand away while claiming that he’s a big boy and can handle himself. “Good morning to you too, my love.” you said, voice riddled with sleep and a bit deeper for lack of use. He grins a bit wider and looks over you again. “Y’know you are sexy with that morning voice” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes and went to tease him before hearing a laugh from your left and feeling a shift in the bed. “I have not even been awake for 5 minutes and you two are already ready to jump each other's bones. Good morning to me, I guess” Eddies fake grumpy voice cuts through the teasing banter. you flip to face him and place a kiss on his forehead as your face starts to burn from embarrassment. you feel Steve shift and lean over, kissing Eddie and pushing the hair from his face. “Jesus steve, morning breath” Eddie said as he sits up and makes a fake disgusted face. you laugh and steve looks at the both of you with face offense.

“Well if my breath offends you both so much, you can make your own breakfast” He teases and stands up, pulling his shorts that were disregarded the night prior. You snatch his arm and roughly pull him into your lap and kiss him again. “He was kidding, my love. Give us 15 and we’ll be out there to join you. Maybe we can actually help this time” you said as you sent him your best pleading look. He looks between you and Eddie then snorts “yeah right, after you two almost burnt the house down I don’t think so. I will start breakfast. We’re having pancakes and eggs. I love you two but I don’t think I can handle having to call the emergency line at… 8am” he explains as he glances at the clock. Standing up again he heads out of the room, your gaze follows him until he is out of sight.

You lean back against the bed and turn your head to Eddie who is just staring off into space. As you look at him you lean over and move his hair out of the way and gently bite his shoulder. “Fuck! Why did you do that? I know you love leaving your mark on the world but last time I checked my name isn’t ‘The World’ “ He said as he let out a little yelp in surprise. “I don’t know. Just felt like it. You were spacing out again.” “and you bit me?!” he says in fake anger. “What else was I supposed to do?” you said and rolled your eyes as you moved to go stand.

You make your way to the kitchen and watch as Steve bobs his head and sings to whatever song is on the radio placed on the kitchen counter. While he is dancing like a maniac you see him plating up some food then turning back to the stove. You let out a silent chuckle then move towards him as quietly as you can and snake your arms around his bare waist. the coarse hair from his stomach brushing against the soft skin of your arms and you let out a content hum. “How was your morning thus far, pop star?” You tease as he spins around and pulls you against him.

“I don’t know, poke me or something like a normal person?” He questions as he stands, throwing the disregarded Metallica shirt on. You opt for a plain back tank top and shorts, tying back your hair back the best you can, vowing to brush it later (if you have short hair you run a hand through it to fix the bed head). He pouts then looks over your form. Looking back from your dresser as you slip on your shorts you can see Eddie scheming. Quickly rushing over you kiss him and run your hands down the sides of his arms and to grip his waist in effort to put a pep in his step. “Hey let's go. Steve is probably feeling left out.” you whisper against his lips and pull away. He let's out a whine from lack of contact then follows.

“Pretty good. Better now that you and Eddie are up and moving” He says as Eddie stumbles through the doorway of your shared apartment, making his way to the fridge and grabbing a Coca-cola from it before plopping down at the counter. “Yeah? I am glad” you start and lean up to his ear. “I saw your performance. Amazing might I add.” you whisper as you place a kiss on his collar bone and move away from him, towards the coffee pot after grabbing the dark blue and bright yellow coffee mug. After filling up the mug and sitting down you bask in the morning glow filling the room and wait as Steve finishes breakfast.

The three of you eat, throwing around playful remarks and generally comfortable conversation. You smile and couldn’t and would feel more at peace with the two men you love the most within arms reach of you.

taglist: @hellfirebee @mitzirre

#eddie munson x yn #eddie munson fanfic #steve stranger things #steve harrington #x male reader #steve x eddie #eddie #eddie munson fluff #fluff #headcanon #poly relationship #polyamory #eddie x steve #steddie #steveddie

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findafight · 2 years

Text

Byler is sooooo good like childhood best friends?? Would do nearly anything for each other? Extreme pining?? Phenomenal. it makes me crazy. but also. Also. Unrequited Byler. For Mike.

Consider, season four fix it everything is mostly fine back in Hawkins, and Will is finally like "I can't keep doing this to myself. I have to have some self respect!!" And Jonathan and Argyle are like yes!! Yes little man!! Do it! We love you! You do what is best for you!!

So Will starts the slow process of Getting Over Mike. It's hard, because they're friends, and all their friends are friends, but worth it. He's tied so much of himself up into Mike that it hurts to disentangle from him, but he does it. Slowly.

Over the summer of '86, with the upside down actually gone and collapsed, Will gains more confidence in himself, more relaxed and self assured, not second guessing everything he does.

The rest of the party is thrilled to see him, to have him back, and even if he's stiff around Mike, they figure it's because Mike and El broke up (or, well, El broke up with Mike because he couldn't say he loved her, and that he was obviously hurting Will, and a great number of other things) and El is Will's sister. Dustin and Lucas fight over who gets to introduce Will to Eddie and are both beaten by Steve who walks in, Eddie on his heels and goes "hey will! This is Eddie, he's a GN or whatever too." With a smile. (Dustin shrieks to correct him but Will sees the smile Steve has and suspects he knows what he's doing.)

So the summer goes, the boys play dnd and talk about girlfriends or lack thereof, and Will barely squirms when he thinks about how he doesn't want one. Jonathan said it was ok. That he'd love him always and that his friends would too, but it's scary. It's always going to be a bit scary, he thinks.

And Will notices things. He notices how, when Jonathan reassures him it'll be fine, his eyes catch on Argyle smiling and nodding along to something Steve is saying. How Argyle always grins a bit too wide when he spots Jon enter a room, a bit too dopey; how their fingers graze against each other.

He notices how Eddie doesn't really mention girls; how Jeff doesn't talk about anyone really. How Steve will smirk at Robin and gently nudge her sometimes and she'll splutter and laugh; how Eddie and Steve will grin and tease and lean into each other's spaces and lean away again blushing but not awkward.

He refuses to notice Mike.

Of course, everybody notices when something shifts between Eddie and Steve, how they start to slot together easily, less blushing. How, when Dustin is asking Steve why he and Robin still aren't dating, Steve shrugs and says "because I'm dating Eddie."

Will notices how Jonathan's eyes go wide, and he looks like he wants to ask a question but doesn't. Mike, however, does.

"so, like, you were faking the whole time?"

And Steve raises a singular eyebrow and explains that for him, someone's gender was never really part of the equation of whether he liked them or not. He was just kinda slow on the uptake that that isn't the case for everyone. How sometimes for some people it does matter, but they like boys and girls and people not either of those (which Will didn't know you could be, inbetween or outside of boy and girl.) He wasn't faking. He liked Nancy Wheeler and he liked those other girls and he likes Eddie.

Then Will notices Argyle nodding and smiling, Jonathan gaping a little bit, brows scrunched together, Nancy chewing her lip. He decides to leave that.

Nothing actually changes because of the revelation, just that now the Party knows. Or. Nothing changes in regards to Steve and Eddie. Jonathan and Argyle, it seems, do plan on changing. Will comes home one day to find Argyle sitting on the counter holding Jon's face tenderly, pecking kisses around his face. He walks out the door and stomps noisily up the steps to give them a chance.

And slowly Will notices that it doesn't hurt, not anymore, being around Mike. Doesn't make his chest ache with longing or his stomach turn.

He thinks he'll always love Mike, in a special way, in the way Steve once told him he still loved Nancy. That special place a first love that broke your heart burrowed but you wouldn't change it because it was important to you. Helped you grow. Steve said that no love is wasted, even if it didn't last in the way you expected it to. He said it with a smile, that day. That Maybe it ends or maybe it fizzles or maybe it just changes into some other kind of love. And that's good too.

When Steve talks like that, Will wonders when he got so wise, and then wonders when he himself got so wise. A side effect, perhaps, of getting your heart broken by a Wheeler.

Will doesn't think he's actually in love with Mike anymore. And that's good.

He tells Jon first. That he thinks he and Mike can be friends, that he wants them to be friends, that it doesn't really hurt as much anymore, to hear Mike complain about girls. Jon hugs him. Tells him he's proud of him. Tells him he's so strong and brave and is growing up so much.

Will hangs out with the party and just. Sorta tells them one day that he's gay. He never actually said the words before, because Jonathan just knew, but it's a sort of thrilling experience, how he'd imagine skydiving to be. El smiles and holds his hand. Lucas and Dustin smile and clamber to hug him, thanking him for telling them and trusting them and that they're so happy for him. Robin highfives him, welcomes him to the club. Eddie ruffles his hair and smiles. Steve just says "good job figuring yourself out, little man!" And Will laughs.

Mike just stares.

It hurts, but not as much as it would have six, four, or even a month ago. Will shrugs it off as they get on with their plans for the day.

And then, somehow, it's been a year since they beat vecna, and El is happier than she's ever been. Will is too. They can both say they are completely over Mike Wheeler.

Will is glad, because both of them have had too much stress for their whole lives. One day, in the Hopper-Byers livingroom, as they all do their own thing and bask in each other's company, she tells Hopper she thinks she's like Steve. Hop just looks at her blankly, Will and Joyce and Jonathan watching, and she shakes her head, saying "I am not always a girl and not always a boy and not always either. I do not care if the person I like is a boy or a girl or like me. It is nice to just be. To wear fun clothes that are comfy and to like someone who likes me. That is how I am like Steve."

And oh. That makes sense. It makes sense for El and it makes sense for Steve. Will gets why Steve carefully said 'boys and girls and people not either or both' when he came out. It makes something warm bloom in Will's chest that someone would be careful like that, for someone else's sake, even if they weren't sure, if it was just in case. Makes him so happy that El has someone like her, because he knows how lonely it is being different and she has already been different most of her life.

El tells the party the next day, the same exact way. She grins at Steve, who is smiling through tears, and thanks him for explaining it to her. Dustin, once again, nearly tackles her in a hug, stopped only by Max's crutches as she heaves El into a spin, kissing her cheek. Mike thanks her for telling them.

So it goes, sophomore year bleeding into junior year, all the petty dramas of highschool overshadowing what happened in the upsidedown. Robin and Eddie and Steve follow Jonathan and Argyle to Chicago, Nancy meeting them when she's finished school, and tell the Party to call. At the send off, Robin wraps Will in a tight hug, whispering that she gets it, gets knowing without having the words to talk about it. How she's proud of her little buddy and he'd better give her all the gossip about the party, as though Max isn't taking diligent notes to share with her.

Will stands beside Mike, leaning against him, as they watch Dustin and Steve sob into each other's shoulder, and is happy they're friends.

A few weeks after, in October, Mike starts acting really weird

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