I Adore This With My Whole Heart

i adore this with my whole heart

Crashed the Wedding - Part 10

“Eddie I swear to all that is holy if you don’t stop fidgeting I’m going to stab you with one of these pins.” Nancy sniped as she fiddled with Eddie’s hair, the curls loosely tied into a messy mermaid braid decorated with silver crossing chains, hair rings, and gems. Even tied up as it were, Eddie had just let it grow down his back, only getting it dusted every few months to remove all the dead ends. He could have had anyone do his hair, anyone at all, could have flown in the best stylists in the world, but no. He’d asked Nancy to help him do his hair.

She’d told him the same thing, that he could get anyone to do it, but… he’d just smiled, told her they had similar hair, and that he trusted her to do it. She hadn’t let him down. She’d spent weeks researching braiding techniques because she knew he wanted it braided, spent ages working with one of those little mannequin heads with the hair to figure out how the gems, the chains and the little hair rings would fit into the style he wanted it to go in.

And only when she was confident that she could do it, did she attempt it on him. And that was two nights before at an impromptu hair rehearsal when she’d shown up with her bag of things to make sure what she’d done on the mannequin could be replicated with his hair.

It’d worked like a dream, she’d even managed to allow for a few messy curls to come loose from the braid, so they framed his face in effortless beauty that actually took a lot of effort. “I’m going to remember you said that at your wedding, see if you can sit still when you’re about to marry the love of your life. I feel like I’m being electrocuted but like… in a good way?”

“How can you be electrocuted in a good way?”

“Oh Nance, we gotta introduce you to the joys of electrostimulation, I’ll send you some links.”

“Please don’t, we had to get the scissors involved last time you sent me links to your kink stuff, honestly, Robin and ropes do not go well together.” There’d been knots, and not the fun kind, more the kitten trapped in a ball of yarn kind. “Almost dooone aaaand—” she slid one more bobby pin in place “finished!”

“Well… how do I look?” He turned in the chair to look at her, to look at her warm smile and emotional eyes. He’d already had his usual makeup team from his tours in to help him on that front, the crew invited as welcome guests but also helpy helpers in some parts. They’d covered his blemishes, however few he may have had, mattified his skin so the camera wouldn’t catch any oily spots lit up by the lights, and they’d gone the extra mile with his eyes. They’d been smoked with a dark shadow pallet, black blending into brown, into a warm honey gold the closer it got to his cornea his under eye lined with a soft brown, his lashes enhanced only a little by mascara to make sure it all blended together seamlessly.

He hadn’t needed anything on his lips, just a light swipe of a highlight over his cupids bow was always enough for his lips.

“You look beautiful, Eddie… Steve isn’t gonna know what hit him. Now let’s get you dressed and out there before Steve beats you down the aisle.” They’d already decided that Steve would be the one to walk down the aisle to him, followed by his Best Ma’am, Robin, and his groomsmaids an man, Max, Eleven, Erica, and Lucas. Preceded by their little flower girl Teresa Henderson, who’d sworn not to use her budding telekinesis to throw flowers everywhere.

Eleven would be watching that five-year-old like a hawk though.

She’d spent too long making sure that clearing looked as beautiful as it did to have her little demon child ruin it by whipping up a flower tornado. Too long lifting lanterns up to branches, too long artfully weaving string lights between the oranges, browns, and yellows of the leaves on the trees, letting some drape and some not. She’d spent too long ensuring all the benches they’d used as makeshift pews were arranged perfectly spaced to give everyone just enough leg room.

No flower tornado. Even if it would be extremely cool any other time.

The guests were beginning to arrive, walking down the long well-lit pathway from where they’d set up parking, Eddie had wanted a woodland fall wedding with elvish touches, and given Steve would bend to anything Eddie wanted if he bat his lashes cutely enough, the woodland fall wedding with nerdy elvish touches was happening.

It was extravagant, it would have cost a fortune to set up had Eleven not been there since the early afternoon setting it all up, it meant he got his way with his suit, a beautiful black tunic with faint dark grey brocade embellishments in the thick fabric, the cuffs held closed by silver cufflinks in the shape of D20’s, a high collar, open just enough to give his Adams apple room to breathe, hugging his neck.

The pants beneath it weren’t entirely visible but he’d gone for pants just tight enough around his ankles so he could wear his black calf-length harness boots over them, for ‘the look.’

It didn’t matter though, because nobody, not a single person would be looking at him when that music eventually started. A faint acoustic version of the march played by Jeff, Frank on base beside him adding depth to the gentle melody.

The little flower girl, her curls bouncing with each step as she carefully spread little yellow and white flower petals across the carpeted walkway, all the way down until she reached Nancy at the front who welcomed her and helped her to her own special seat at the front. And then, Eddie had to remind himself to breathe.

Steve.

He’d had no idea what Steve would look like on the day, they’d stuck to tradition, kept the outfits a secret and hadn’t seen each other for a whole twenty-four hours, even though that’d sucked. Now he wished he’d have gotten a heads up.

He looked like royalty, ethereal in his beauty, dressed in a similar style to Eddie, only his was white, a white tunic, golden in its embellishments, made even more beautiful by the cape pinned at his neck made of a thin gradient lace fabric that gently drifted across the floor, white and gold in its colour, embellished by golden glitter and starry patterns, in his hands a pretty arrangement of flowers in colours matching the petals little Teresa had decorated the walkway with.

He didn’t need makeup, he didn’t need anything but the clothes he was wearing, just looking at him was putting Eddie at risk of ruining his own makeup. He could feel the sting in his eyes, could see the watery distortion at the bottom of his vision, he breathed in sharply, the hand of their officiant, the grouchy old Chief himself, who’d gotten himself ordained purely to officiate that wedding, and Nancy and Robin’s whenever the hell they decide to tie that knot, on his shoulder, in a bid to ground him.

“Breathe kid.” Were his wise words, reminding Eddie that yes, air was required.

“It’s too hard, gonna asphyxiate.” Hopper only answered with a soft chuckle, and then Steve was there, their groomsmen and women at their sides, Robin, Max, Eleven, Erica, and Lucas at Steve’s, Dustin, Mike, Will, Nancy and Gareth at Eddie’s. Jeff and Frank lingering at the back to play them out at the end.

It all just sort of… tuned out after that, he couldn’t not focus entirely on Steve, on his smiling face, the happiness in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, the way the lights dangling in the treetops above made not just his outfit shimmer but his eyes too, he knew he should have been looking at Hopper as the man did his best to go through the standard opening words, to welcome their guests, to read out a little speech that Joyce had absolutely helped him to write that perfectly, leaving out all the monster bits, encapsulated just how much he cared for those two men, how he wished he could have been the one to walk Steve down that dumb aisle but he’d had to stay up front to do his actual job, something that had a tear slip from Steve’s eye and a soft laugh escape his lips.

He spoke of all the times he’d caught Eddie being a menace as a teenager, and how proud he was to see how much Eddie had grown up since then, even if it weren’t actually all that much, even a little bit was enough.

And then came the important part, the part Eddie had rehearsed so many times in the mirror he knew it better than one of his own songs.

“As you can probably imagine, our two grooms have chosen to write their own vows, so, without further ado as I know we’re all sick of hearin me speak… Eddie, i believe you wanted to go first.” Eddie took a deep breath. In, and out, before turning to Steve, the man mirroring him, his smile only widening as he witnessed that deep breathe.

“You got this, Bambi” he whispered with a cheeky wink, a direct crit hit to Eddie’s heart.

“Okay. Ehem… Wise men say that only fools rush into love.” Eddie began with a small grin that reached his eyes and made them sparkle in mischievous glee over his successful inclusion of song lyrics into his vows. Steve merely rolled his eyes in fond amusement, a smile seemingly permanently glued to his lips. “But I’m happy to report, that I’m no fool, although many would argue otherwise” a soft laugh erupted across the makeshift pews lining their little clearing, across the smiling faces of their friends, their families, their joy illuminated by the lanterns delicately dangling from the treetops overhead and the warm white string lights woven between branches between them. “I don’t think anyone can call nursing a love for half of the time I’ve lived as rushing it.”

Steve’s smile grew just a little wider, his hands gently squeezing around Eddie’s in a quiet show of support, as if he had ever needed support to talk.

“You came to me at my lowest, Steve, at my most frightened, and alone, you offered me warmth in your smile, safety in your words of comfort, and you supported me even though we’d definitely gotten off on the wrong foot.” Through sheer stupidity, assumptions of ones’ character, and jealousy over sharing their shared little brother. Not to mention the broken bottle to the throat. “Broken bottles, dorky little brothers, end of the world, you know.” Out of the corner of his eye he caught Joyce Byers gently waving her hand at Karen Wheeler as a simple ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture.

“I know” Steve quietly uttered with a gentle nod, his teary-eyed smile unwavering.

“You showed me what love is, Steve… you gave it so selflessly to anyone who needed it, welcomed them into your arms and kept them safe from harm even at the cost of your own safety. You’re like that single beam of warm sunlight through a break in the curtains on a cold winter morning.”

“And you’re the tiny little kitten that falls asleep in it.”

“Baby you get me so well.” He’d fallen asleep on top of Steve many a time and he always awoke warm, comforted, safe in a way that words simply could not explain.

“It’s a weird and wonderful gift.”

“Anyway, shh let me finish.” Steve’s smile widened a fraction as he nodded, lifting one hand up to his lips in a zip motion. “You adorable little shit. Ehem, as I was saying before I was so adorably interrupted. So, in light of how utterly perfect you are Steve Harrington, as there is no way on Earth, I will ever be able to pull off what you do so naturally for me every day, my vows to you will be to do my best every single gods-be-damned day, to be deserving of you. To never make you feel less than the most important person, the most important thing in my very crazy life. I vow to love you long after we become cranky old ghosts haunting our old stomping grounds because after everything we’ve seen, I flatly refuse to believe that I could stop loving you at death. I vow to never rearrange your hair stuff in the bathroom during my ‘rare as a unicorn’ cleaning sprees” at Steve’s fondly raised brow, Eddie tacked on a sheepish “again.” That earned another chuckle from their families. “I vow to give you all the applause, when you do something ridiculously badass so that you never feel underappreciated for the sheer awesome that is you in a crisis.”

“I am pretty badass, you are correct.” Robin, Steve’s Best Ma’am fondly rolled her eyes behind Steve.

“Shhh, I vow to pay attention to each and every one of your moles when I kiss them goodnight, even that one” Steve rolled his eyes, another soft laugh carrying through their audience “and finally, the most important one out of all of them… I vow to always leave the cap on the toothpaste instead of sending you on a treasure hunt for it every morning.” He’d somehow left it in the fridge at one point. Steve refused to let him live it down.

“Score” Steve quietly fist pumped.

“So, Steven Anthony Harrington, love of my life, I take you, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have, and to hold, in sickness, and in health, for richer, and for poorer, for as long as we both shall live and beyond because fuck you, death, I’ve kicked your butt once and I’ll do it again.” He held his hand backwards toward Dustin, who deposited a subtle weight into his palm to be carefully slid into place on Steve’s finger. “To you I make this vow.” The ring a solid gold, oxidized at the surface to darken the metal, it had a raised texture made of gold dust randomly fused to the dark metal, creating starburst patterns across its surface as though the sun itself were trying to burst through the dark. “I love you, Steve… I love you so much.” His voice finally cracking at the end as he allowed the tears to gather where he’d been holding them back for as long as he could.

“I love you too, Eddie.” Steve whispered back, squeezing his hands once more, ignoring the single happy tear that fell from his own eyes, letting it fall.

“Steve?” Hopper’s gruff voice prompted Steve to begin his own.

“Right, one second.” He breathed inward through his nose sharply taking a hankie he’d wisely chosen to keep in his pocket out to dab it at his eyes, he could do this, he had his friends, his family, he had everyone he loved right there in that clearing, and he had Eddie, looking practically ethereal in the lights twinkling around him. He could do this, he’d spent weeks sitting with Nancy just trying to get the damn things to sound right, then an extra week rehearsing them so he wouldn’t have to pull out the papers they were written on. “I—uh…” He could do this, he could absolutely do this, he could—

“Baby, are they written on paper?” Eddie’s eyes were so soft, his words quiet enough so that only those at the front could hear him, Steve nodded “then read them from the paper, it’s okay.” Eddie gently lifted Steve’s hands to his lips and pressed a kiss atop his knuckles. Some things were hard when you’d suffered two too many concussions, Eddie never made him feel bad for not being able to do certain things sometimes, for needing days out of the spotlight, for needing moments to himself, for just… needing naps sometimes.

“I got you, Steve” Robin spoke in hushed tones as she offered the small number of pages to him, which he accepted gratefully. Now. Now he could do this.

“I wish I’d have gone first now, following that? Pfft, terrifying.” But then Eddie was the main lyric writer, lead vocals, and lead guitarist for Corroded Coffin, not to mention still the main DM for Hellfire so. He should have expected as much. Eddie gently squeezed the hand he still had hold of in an attempt to ease his nerves, it worked. “I’m not the best with words, so… forgive me.” The crows-feet at the corners of Eddie’s eyes only crinkled more as his smile widened, dimples on full display, nothing but love in that smile.

“For the longest time, I didn’t understand you, Eddie, when we were dumb teenagers still in school, you were this loud kid I could never wrap my head around, you played nerd games, and listened to music that made my head hurt even before the head trauma, you were an enigma that I didn’t try hard enough to figure out until you crashed into my life with a broken bottle to my throat that made me think things that didn’t belong in my brain in that particular moment.” He saw Hopper roll his eyes at their side, but Eddie was sniggering, so he ignored Hopper.

“We were pushed together through circumstance, and although that could have lead to us clashing, it could have led to resentment, you were just so easy to like. You never made me feel stupid for asking ill-timed silly questions” you have a car we don’t know about? Or, where’d you learn how to do that? As more than sufficient examples but god there’d been so many more since then. “You always so patiently just explained stuff to me without ever making me feel less than those around me, it was so easy to find myself drawn to you even if at the time, I didn’t really understand why.” He’d had a crush, a ridiculously ill-timed crush on a traumatised boy wrapped up in chaos, then after it was all finished, the crush had stayed, it’d stayed, it’d blossomed, he’d fallen deeper and deeper until resurfacing became impossible.

“You take the time to support me and lift me up in so many little ways and honestly, I don’t think you even really notice you do it. Like… you always remember where I put my glasses, even though you can never remember where you put your keys, you have like, this sixth sense for my migraines, like you know they’re coming before even I do—”

“You have this—”

“Don’t ruin the illusion, Bambi, just let me believe you’re magic.”

“Okay.”

“You make every space a home, Eddie, even that big empty house felt like home whenever you were in it, not because of anything you did, or anything you said, but because you, just you being your perfectly silly self, you are my home. You like to call me the sun, Eddie, but I’m nothing but the moon… I just reflect whatever warmth you give me. Without you I’m cold.” That mischievous little grin on Eddie’s face had softened, those beautiful brown Bambi eyes wide yet filled with warmth and emotion, shimmering with tears he’d previously shed and tears he seemed like he was about to shed.

“So, my vows to you are these… Eddie, I vow to support you, in every endeavour you take, be it music, be it writing, be it playing DnD until the early hours of the morning even when you know you have to be up at 6am to catch a flight. To never roll my eyes when you attempt to slip your nerdy references into our love life, I vow to never again ask you to play basketball with us, even if Lucas begs me to because I know you’ll selflessly say yes and suffer the entire time.”

There were pictures on the internet now. So many pictures. The Corroded Coffin fanbase found them all deeply amusing.

Lucas, now playing for some big-league team, had even signed one at his last signing event, almost choking with laughter when it turned up in front of him.

“I vow to continue, every day, to love you, and cherish you, and kiss both of those dimples at every available opportunity, awh yeah there they are~” Eddie ducked his head with an embarrassed little laugh, lifting one hand to his face to hide behind it, that didn’t last long though, because Steve curled his fingers around it and eased it away “nuh-uh, I wanna see that beautiful face when I do this.” Robin deposited into his waiting hand as she took the papers away, the ring that he’d specifically purchased out of his own left-over Harrington fund, the one he’d wisely kept in a separate bank account that the government had left alone when they’d seized his father’s assets.

He'd kept it from Eddie, hidden it away, because he wanted to see his face the first time he laid eyes on it. It was Mokume Gane in design, golds and silvers merged and shaped until the surface of the ring resembled an intricate wood grain effect, which on its own would have been beautiful, but it hadn’t been enough, it hadn’t been Eddie enough, so he’d had the words ‘One ring to seal our love, And forever to entwine us’ engraved around the outer ring in a beautiful elvish script, which Dustin had written down for him properly so the engraver could do it justice.

The expression of awe on his face when Steve slid it onto his waiting finger was more than worth the teasing he’d received from Dustin over how nerdy the whole thing was. “Steve…” Eddie breathed, eyes wide on the metal as they took in the beautifully curved writing, the intricate strokes, the pattern in the metal “you… you—”

“Yes, I did a nerdy thing for you, shh. I love you Eddie Munson, I will always love you, from now until forever, that is my vow to you.” And there were the tears, Eddie looking at him eyes shimmering and bright, beautifully reflecting all the lights around them more so than the twinkling little gems and trinkets tied into his hair.

“Ehem” Hopper cleared his throat “Eddie Munson, do you take this man—”

“I do.” Hopper didn’t chastise him for interrupting, even if he had interrupted the legal vows part.

“Steve Harrington, do you—”

“Without hesitation, I do.”

“Jesus Christ, well alright I suppose you’ve waited long enough, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you finally married! Good luck boys, Steve, stick one on him would you so we can all get drunk.” Eddie didn’t resist in the slightest when Steve took his hand and pulled him in, he went willingly, pliant in Steve’s grip as the man twisted and dipped him, Eddie’s laughter almost musical in its beauty, his free hand lifting to cup Steve’s jaw as the man leaned in to close the distance between them, their families, their friends erupting in cheers as lips touched

“Much better than your first wedding, right?” Eddie cheekily murmured against Steve’s lips, barely parting from them they still brushed as he spoke

“Oh, be quiet.”

With a widening grin, Eddie whispered “Okay” right back, before Steve sealed their lips together once more in the second of many kisses, as Mr and Mr. Steve, and Eddie Munson.

~THE END~

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eddie munson steve harrington steddie ficlet Crashed a Wedding PirateWrites

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The driver's side car window makes a resounding thunk when Steve’s forehead falls against it.

Through the glass, his keys glint tauntingly back at him.

Still tucked in the ignition, locked in on the inside. So close and yet so far from Steve who is, unfortunately, locked on the outside.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

He lets his head raise up a bit just to drop it back against the window again, this time more in punishment. Of course, of course, he coughs up the money needed for a warrant of fitness and then he goes and locks his keys in the car the next day. Like he needed one more cost added to his finances.

Steve steals a glance at his watch. Fuck, if he doesn’t get on the road in the next 10 minutes, he’ll be more than late to work.

His eyes glance across to Eddie’s van, parked beside his own car, outside the trailer home in Forest Hills. Then he looks back at the trailer.

He can ask. He can just go inside and ask Eddie for the lift— and explain that the reason he can’t take his own perfectly fine car is because he’s so goddamn thick between the ears that he’s locked his keys inside, like some kind of moron.

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his father.

Something thick grows in his throat. He swallows it to no avail. Embarrassment begins to flush down his neck, hot and uncomfortable.

No, no— he can’t ask Eddie because as far as Steve knows, Eddie hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

Even while Dustin and Mike make their jokes about him being a bit slow, even when Robin says at least you have your pretty face, Eddie brushes them off and laughs. Takes them as jokes with no merit to them. Steve knows though.

So what if he doesn’t want to burst his bubble just yet?

He knows Eddie will figure it out eventually— because they always do. When he asks too many stupid questions and needs things explained twice and— and it’s just inevitable, okay? He knows that.

Fixing his glare through the window of his car at the shiny pair of keys within, Steve wrestles with what would be worse; being late or accidentally tipping Eddie off when they’ve just gotten so close.

Close enough to share a kiss, two nights ago, under the covers. It was barely more than a peck. But Steve knew it had taken a miraculous amount of courage from Eddie to do it— to surge forward and grab Steve’s face, his rings cool against his skin, and press his mouth against his Steve's own.

Eddie’s lips had been chapped but his smile had been pure sunshine and Steve thinks he could’ve stayed forever under that blanket, memorising the shade of pink Eddie’s cheeks turn after a kiss.

They’ve been dancing around it ever since. Each interaction is more charged, more flirty, more gooey. Long lingering looks and pointed nudges that make Steve feel like a 14-year-old with a crush again, in the best way.

So, no. He exactly can’t go ask.

With a heavy sigh and glance up at the darkening sky, Steve is only glad he’s not supposed to pick up Robin today as he begins to walk.

—

One phone call to the auto-shop reveals exactly how much it’ll cost to get his keys retrieved. Which is, to say, entirely too much for one adult living on the wage of a Family Video employee.

And they won’t be able to get anyone out for another whole day.

Growing more and more frustrated with himself, Steve angrily jots the number down into his little notebook, the pen pressing down hard enough to leave indents on the page behind it. Keith is somewhere out the back, snacking no doubt, and leaving Steve to man the front.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother him— especially because he could discretely make the phone call he needed— but now it’s just him, the empty store, and the number in his notebook that stares back at him.

Oh, and it’s raining.

The darkening sky from earlier had transformed into something closer to a thunderstorm, rain lashing against the windows and driving any and all customers away. Which is fantastic— just what Steve needs now, really the fucking cherry on the top.

The phone rings, the noise unusually shrill in the silence of the store. The film playing amongst the aisles has been on mute as soon as he’d gotten his hands on the remote and Keith had disappeared out the back.

Steve stares at the phone, watching it ring once, twice, before he picks it up with a heavy sigh. He dredges up his customer service voice.

“This is Family Video, how can I help?” He greets, putting as much pep into his voice as he can manage—which turns out to be a meagre amount.

“Did you walk to work today?”

Steve straightens up at the sound of Eddie’s voice on the other end of the line. His free hand instinctively smooths down the front of his vest before he quickly remembers Eddie can’t actually see him.

“Eddie?” He asks, instead of answering the question.

“Your Highness, himself,” Eddie responds. His tone is that usual jaunty playfulness that Steve’s come to adore. “Now answer the question, Steve-o. I thought you were one of those smart guys who actually listens when the weather report comes on the radio. Why the hell did you walk?”

Steve’s shoulders curl in, just an inch, and his eyes seek out the open notebook with the quoted amount, underlined and circled, staring back at him. His throat grows a lump at Eddie’s unknowingly poor choice of words.

“Thought I would walk today.” He replies, his voice clipped. “You know, walking, exercise, good for you? Any of these ringing a bell for you, Munson?”

It’s supposed to be a joke but Steve can tell by the end of the sentence, it’s come out way too sour to land that way. He sounds mean.

Steve cringes, clutching the phone a little tighter and screwing up his eyes. He waits for Eddie’s response.

“You know,” Eddie says, sounding a lot duller all of a sudden. “I was calling to maybe offer you a lift through the rain—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, that-“ Steve cuts in, that same strange embarrassment swelling in his throat. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“—But if you’re gonna be a dick about it, you can enjoy the walk.”

Steve grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose because this feels a little too much like a line from his Dad— but it isn’t because Steve is the one digging this hole all on his own. He’s the idiot who fucking locked his keys in his car and walked to work and snapped at Eddie and—

“No, I’m sorry.” He says, still a bit too tense.

Idiot, idiot, you’re being a fucking idiot, Harrington.

“A ride would be appreciated. Please.”

A pause. This time when Eddie speaks, he’s a little softer. “You off at five today?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at five.”

The dial tone sounds as Eddie hangs up but Steve stays where he is, phone pressed against his one good ear, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The rain begins to flood the parking lot.

—

Five o’clock comes around too soon.

The rain has let up, just barely, but enough that Steve can actually see Eddie’s van when it pulls up into the parking lot. It rocks about dangerously in the wind and Steve suddenly feels bad for making Eddie come out to get him.

He could’ve stayed here, taken the longer shift. Told Keith to take off early and just walked back home when the rain let up a little more— or just camped out the back on the couch in the employee room if it never did.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He’d started doing it more and more when his parent’s visits to home became more frequent. It was easy to pull a few white lies out and Steve far preferred answering questions like: Where were you last night? than Why won't you come out to our event tonight? Show face for the Harrington's? It's not like you're doing anything with your life, right?

The only reason he’d stopped, actually, was because he had become good friends with Eddie.

Eddie, who loved his company almost any hour of the day. Who gobbled up each and every morsel of food Steve cooked up, whether it was good or partially burned on the sides. Who told him he had a place in the trailer, day or night, rain or shine.

Eddie who… was waiting outside at five o’clock exactly, pulled up to the curb so Steve wouldn’t have to walk through the rain for more than a moment.

There’s a sliver of surprise, deep within his chest; like he thought Eddie might’ve not shown up and forced him to walk through the rain, just to learn his lesson. It would make sense, Steve thinks. You reap what you sow.

He clocks out hastily, barely murmuring his exit to Keith who doesn’t look up in the slightest. Steve heads for the door and decides then and there, he’ll happily pay the number in his notebook if he doesn’t have to tell Eddie what a fucking moron he actually is.

Water splashes as he dashes down the steps and Eddie’s leaning across, pushing the door open so Steve doesn’t even have to wait to yank it open in the rain. He slides in, sprinkled with rain, slams the door closed, and instantly gets blasted with heat.

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve sighs, sticking his hands out towards the air vents which are working in overdrive. They whir loudly in complaint. Eddie smiles, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the warmth, and twists the wheel, his eyes on the road before him.

The van groans and the bumper dips, kissing the gutter, as they roll out onto the road and head for Forest Hills. For a moment, Eddie focuses on driving straight before he flicks his gaze across to Steve.

“You know I wouldn’t have actually let you walk, right?”

Steve blinks, unsure of what to say in response, because he actually did think that was a possibility until about 2 minutes ago. He shivers as a stray drop in his hair sneaks under his collar, cold and wet.

“Right.” He answers, giving a hesitant smile back.

They’re driving slower than usual due to the rain. Steve lets himself sink back into the worn seats of the van, comforted by the familiar smells. A tang of tobacco, a stronger hint of weed, and that musky deodorant that Eddie swears by— even if Steve has never heard of the brand before.

But, well, it must be working in some sense because when Steve takes a deep breath, he smells it and feels a sense of calm. He doesn’t even notice he’s begun staring.

The strange weather has made Eddie’s hair frizzier than usual and paired with his rosy cheeks, Steve thinks he looks goddamn delectable. He gets caught up in a daydream about having a hot chocolate when they get back to the trailer, maybe even sharing a blanket on the couch and—

And then, Eddie turns and says, “So, wanna tell me why you walked? For real, this time?”

Something shrivels up within Steve. The tightness in his throat from this morning returns. He turns his head and looks out the window.

“I don’t get why you don’t believe me when I say I walked because I wanted to.” He grumbles, almost too low for Eddie to hear over the rain.

Why are they still talking about this? He thinks of the keys through the driver’s side window, thinks of the number in his notebook and the much smaller one in his bank account, and has to hold back from thumping his head against the glass again.

Something metallic jingles behind him.

Steve whips around, his eyes zeroing in on his keys dangling from Eddie’s hand— clearly just retrieved from his pocket. Something ugly and warm wakes up inside him, his stomach knotting uncomfortably, and his cheeks start to burn in embarrassment.

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot.

He knows, he already fucking knows how stupid you are.

Eddie’s eyes dart off the road to look at Steve. “Cos you’re clearly not telling the truth.”

Steve averts his gaze, turning his face back to the window and the wet pavement rushing by beneath the car. He swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t move.

“Okay, look I don’t actually care that you walked to work,” Eddie continues, placing the keys down in the cup holder between the seats. “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me that they were locked in your car.”

Steve can’t help it, the way his shoulders hike up. His teeth sink into his bottom lip meanly, nearly drawing blood. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it— Eddie’s still trying to rationalise away what everyone else has already figured out.

“I just—” Steve starts, on the defence, but it comes out a bit too wet. He forces himself to swallow again, thankful there’s no sting of tears in his eyes. “I can fix that shit on my own. That’s all.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

Below them both, the hum of the van begins to dwindle and Steve realises abruptly that Eddie’s slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. He looks to the side, at Eddie.

“Please, c’mon, I just wanna go home, man.” Steve pleads, not even caring that he’s referred so casually to Eddie’s trailer as his home.

“Wait, just,” Eddie waves a hand as he sticks the van into park, releasing the wheel and properly turning to Steve.

“I just want to understand. You know I can pop the door to most cars in, like, 5 minutes. Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Eddie,” Steve stresses, turning away with a pointed sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, latching onto the roots and tugging at it. “Just leave it, please.”

“Or asked for a lift!” Eddie continues, his hands gesturing out a bit wildly. “I could’ve given you a lift even.”

Steve's eyes slice across the van and he wills back every emotional outburst that wants to lash out of him, to poke the right spot that will hurt to get Eddie to back off.

But Eddie is just staring at him, brown eyes wide, a little furrow between his brows, and is just confused. Concerned.

“If you keep driving,” Steve murmurs, almost dejectedly. He ducks his head low and turns back to the window. “I’ll tell you.”

It works— the engine rumbles back to life and the wheels roll gently back out onto the road, just a couple more minutes from Forest Hills. Steve watches the road and tries to grasp for the right thing to say, each possibility dissolving like smoke. His eyes squeeze shut tightly. The rain dins loudly on the roof of the van, a song and dance of the elements.

By the time they’re entering Forest Hills, Steve still hasn’t said a word. The van crawls up into its usual spot, next to Steve’s own car, and Steve stares down at it. He can hear the soft click of Eddie’s seatbelt as he releases it.

He supposes it’s too late now, anyway. Eddie already knows. He keeps his eyes out the window as he speaks, his voice flat and dull.

“I just... I didn’t want you to think that I’m an idiot, too.”

There’s a questioning noise behind him, a little noise from Eddie’s throat that slips out, unbidden.

“Too?” He echoes. “Steve? Who thinks you’re an idiot?”

Steve huffs loudly and turns back, throwing his hands up. “Jesus, who doesn’t? Would you like a list?”

Eddie’s face twists into a meaner expression than Steve's ever seen before and for once, he properly matches the dark clothes and spooky tattoos he dons.

“Yes. And I’ll go door to door— wait,” He shuffles, shifting up onto his knees so he can stretch over the console and place his large hands on either side of Steve’s face, directing his gaze towards him.

It’s reminiscent of a kiss not too long ago. Despite all the burning self-deprecation that churns inside, the pleasant reminder dulls it significantly.

“I’ll go door to door to anyone who ever made you feel that way,” Eddie repeats, now face to face with Steve, their noses nearly touching. His brows are still pull tight into a furious frown. But it's not at him, Steve realises. “And I’ll do something— I’m not sure what yet, but it’ll be foul and like, maybe I’ll put instant mash potatoes on their lawn and— okay the specifics aren’t relevant but this— this is.”

He searches Steve’s face intently, eyes darting around, making sure the message is sinking in. His expression softens out, his eyes suddenly sweeter than before. “You’re aren’t an idiot, Steve. You aren’t an idiot for making a mistake and I’ve never thought that about you.”

Steve blinks. Swallows heavily and god fucking dammit, is the thickness in his throat ever going to disappear? This time it feels different though. He’s not sure how.

“You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head, moving Eddie’s hands with them at the same time. It’s true, he doesn’t. Eddie is… goddamn fucking wonderful. He’s like a warm summer shower through the wretched seasons of Steve’s life. One of the reasons it was worth living through the entire ordeal of 86.

The rain outside continues, pitter-pattering on the roof, somehow softer than it was a second ago.

“Okay,” Eddie says, a small smile on tugging on his lips.

“Okay,” Steve says back. He tries for a smile and it’s easier than expected, though it wobbles at the ends. It doesn’t matter— Eddie is still gazing at him, brown eyes shining and Steve believes what he says.

“Okay,” Eddie says one more time, his smile turning closer to a grin. “Let’s go make some cocoa, yeah?”

He moves to retract his hands but Steve moves faster, his hands darting up to hold them in their place, palms against his cheeks.

“Wait,” Steve murmurs, watching how Eddie stills and keeps his closeness, their noses still a couple inches from touching— and Steve clings to the threads of courage in him tightly.

His hands slide off Eddie’s, grasping lightly at his wrists, and it’s easy to lean forward and connect their mouths in one swift motion.

Eddie squeaks— then melts.

It takes half a second before he remembers to kiss back, equally as enthusiastic and it’s nothing like the first kiss they shared under the covers. The rain dances around them and Steve swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s pulse soothing, feeling the barest jump of his rabbiting pulse.

When he shifts back, breaking the kiss, Steve keeps the closeness, the tips of their noses bumping together. Eddie’s hands feel blazing warm on Steve’s cheeks but when his lashes flutter open, catching sight of Eddie’s glorious pink cheeks, he thinks it might be his face burning up too.

They tumble inside through the rain and with all of Steve’s prayers answered today, they also share a blanket on the couch, ankles linked beneath the rumpled fabric. They make hot chocolate, Steve’s style, and sip it at, making googly eyes at each other over the rim of their mugs— until Eddie laughs too much and spits it down his front.

Steve doesn’t feel stupid again— unless that is, you count feeling stupidly sappy.

(He does not.)

Tags

stranger things eddie munson steve harrington steddie GUYS I FOUND IT well actually someone else found it for me much thanks to them

912 notes View Post

callas-shitshow

1 year ago

because they all love and hate each other to varying degrees like patrick loves tennis and tashi and art but art the most and art loves tennis and patrick but he loves tashi the most and tashi loves tennis the most but none of them can have the thing they want most so they use one another to get closer to it and in the aftermath end up resenting each other for what could have been