Archive of Our Own

The Hellfire Club can collectively pinpoint the exact day that the formerly ruthless dungeon master known as Eddie “The Freak” Munson became soft. Mostly because it was the same day that Steve “The Stutter” Harrington started school at Hawkins High and became an unofficial member of HFC.

And the thing is that Steve is as much a member of Hellfire as any of the others in all the ways that matter. Except that he has never actually played Dungeons and Dragons. He shows up to the meetings (if he’s not working), he’s friends with all the other members, eats lunch with them every day, and he wears the homemade t-shirt on Mondays and Fridays (unless he was too busy to do his laundry). However, he has never created a character, rolled a single die, or directly participated in a campaign. Though that’s not to say he’s never helped the party defeat monsters or become heroes.

Steve’s job is more about influencing the temperamental DM he calls his boyfriend. The party members are well aware that Steve’s presence (or lack thereof) during Hellfire meetings greatly impacts Eddie’s mood. The days where Steve is present, sitting practically in Eddie’s lap at the head of the table, their dungeon master is a little softer and kinder. The party might run into helpful strangers, find the antidote to the poison killing them, or defeat monsters a little easier… They also get home baked cookies or occasionally have to put up with snoring from the couch where Steve is napping.

That being said, they dread the days where Steve has to work or help his mom after school. Those days, Eddie is somehow even more malicious than before Steve came along. He takes great pride in the whole party being wiped out. Sometimes not even rolling a nat 20 is enough to save them from Munson’s pining for his lover.

Despite the days where Hellfire Club is more like, ‘Eddie’s sick twisted murder campaign,’ the party members agree that the addition of Steve as their group’s mom and Eddie’s boyfriend, is worth it.

several months earlier (October 1985)

Steve is going to throw up. He can’t pinpoint whether it’s just his anxiety or an oncoming migraine, but he knows as soon as he steps out of his mom’s car and onto the sidewalk, he is definitely going to see his breakfast again. His hand shakes as he reaches for the car door handle and he slowly pushes it open, swinging his legs to the side as he prepares to step out, when a gentle female voice interrupts his exit.

“It’s going to be fine, Steven… I know it’s not California, but it’s our home now. I’m sure you’ll make some friends here.”

Steve looks back at his mother who is smiling sweetly at him from the driver’s side. He knows she’s just trying to help, but reminding him that he has to start over at a new school in the middle of the semester isn’t easing the feeling in his stomach. If she’s trying to be comforting, she‘s failing miserably.

“Yeah, I-I know, mom. I’ll- um, try.” He takes a deep breath, still trying to push his lingering nausea down.

As if she can read his mind, his mom asks, “Did you remember to bring your medicine with you?”

Steve nods, shaking his backpack in her direction so she can hear the pill bottle rattling in the front pocket. He wouldn’t be caught dead without his migraine medication, especially knowing that stress is one of his worst triggers. And boy is he stressed today.

She gives him a small approving smile. “I’ll be home pretty late tonight, but I left some money for pizza on the table if you get hungry.”

Steve has no intention of ordering himself a pizza. They both know they can’t afford it after all their moving expenses. He attempts to smile back at her anyways, showing appreciation for the gesture. She doesn’t wait for a verbal response, knowing Steve rarely speaks these days unless forced to. She does, however, reach across the car and squeeze his shoulder once before returning to the wheel and facing forwards again.

Steve takes this as his cue to leave and turns away, finally taking a step outside of the car. He shuts the car door behind him carefully and looks up at the Hawkin’s High entrance in front of him.

Only a few students are straggling through the doors at this point and Steve is fairly sure he'll be late for class if he doesn’t hurry. He takes another steadying breath and forces his body forward, quickly walking up the front steps. His knuckles are white, both hands gripping tight to his backpack straps and his eyes are glued straight at the doors. 

This turns out to be a mistake as he fails to see the stray pencil on the fifth step and his hands aren’t on the safety rail for balance.

Steve’s anxious stomach drops into his feet when he feels his body begin to fall backwards, mentally bracing himself for impact against the concrete. His eyes, which had shut when anticipating pain, open when all he feels is a soft jostling against his back and a gentle “oof” in his ear.

His face instantly burns with embarrassment when he realizes that not only did he fall, but he had been caught by whoever was unlucky enough to be walking up the steps behind him.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry,” Steve half yells at the person who still has their large hands firmly placed on his hips and their front pressed against his backpack, bracing him from behind.

“Whoa there, sweetheart. You okay?” a low, concerned voice murmurs in his ear, sending chills through Steve’s whole body. At this moment, he freezes. He is acutely aware of the feeling of the stranger’s hands on him, warm and comfortable. A unique and heavenly smell composed of cigarettes, weed, and leather invades his nose. Steve takes a deep inhale and feels his lungs finally expand fully, able to breathe properly for the first time that morning. He feels unexplainably safe, despite the panicked buzzing lingering in the back of his head.

The tardy bell of course chooses this moment to ring and interrupt Steve’s thoughts. He is jolted out of his head immediately and back to his current circumstances, pulling himself away from the stranger, becoming even more embarrassed about having frozen in the embrace of someone he hasn’t met or even seen.

“S-sorry. Again.” Steve ducks his head, staring at the floor instead of looking back at the kind person behind him. He doesn’t want to look them in the eyes, he might actually die of shame if he does.

And then Steve does what is admittedly a coward’s move and runs away from the problem. He goes up the steps quickly, barely managing not to trip again and makes his way down the halls to the locker he’d been assigned when he toured the school with his mom the week before. Steve’s hands continue to shake as he fumbles with the lock several times until he gets the combination correct. He grabs a notebook and pencil and then gracelessly tosses his backpack in and sprints to his first class, aware that he is now definitely late on his first day.

When he reaches the classroom, he only hesitates a moment before opening the door and walking in. Steve can instantly feel the weight of a room full of gazes on him. He wants to melt into the floor.

“May I help you, young man?” An older gentleman, Steve assumes he’s the teacher, walks over to him with a raised brow.

“I-I’m- I’m new here.” Steve internally curses how his voice sounds whiny and unsure. He draws in a shaky breath, mentally willing himself to not stutter even though he knows it’s not likely to work.

“Yes, I can see that… well, introduce yourself to the class then, Mister…” He looks unimpressed as he looks Steve over.

“H-Harrington, sir. Steve- um, H-Harrington,” he forces out.

And he instantly knows that he fucked up because at that moment, someone in the middle of the class chooses to shout, “W-w-w-welcome S-S-S-Steve,” in an exaggerated, mocking tone.

Most of the classroom bursts out into laughter, a few people around the jokester high-five him or give him a slap on the back. Steve scrunches his eyes shut for a moment, praying he won’t cry. He is used to bullies at this point, but it never hurts any less when someone picks at his biggest insecurity.

“Shut the fuck up, Billy. Nobody even likes you,” a mouthy girl in the back interrupts the laughter. 

At this comment, the teacher finally decides to intervene. “That’s enough, everyone. Settle down. And watch the language Miss Buckley or you’ll be in detention after school today with Mister Harrington.”

That gets Steve’s attention and he looks back at the older man who is walking to his desk and filling out a piece of paper. When he is done writing, he rips a page out of a notepad and hands it to Steve who accepts it with a still shaking hand.

It has the word ‘DETENTION’ printed clearly on the top and the blanks are filled in below it with Steve’s name, the date, and a memo about tardiness. He didn’t think his stomach could drop any lower, but it feels like it’s on the floor at this point. Detention on the first day of school, just what he needs today.

“Right after school, at three o’clock sharp in this room. Bring a pencil and paper with you. You may take a seat now, Mister Harrington.”

Steve nods and immediately walks to the farthest open seat in the classroom, all the way in the back, next to the mousy girl. He drops his things onto the desk and slumps into the chair.

His head is pounding and it‘s making him sick to his stomach. But the last thing Steve wants to do is interrupt the class to go get his medicine and possibly get yelled at. He can feel his breathing getting out of control again and he begins mentally counting and attempting to steady his flow of air. Steve is well acquainted with panic attacks and he can feel himself on the verge of one.

A whisper cuts through the haze of anxiety from his right. “Pssst. Steve, you okay? You look like you’re gonna hurl. Or possibly die.”

He turns his head to look at the girl next to him. She has kind eyes and her face shows genuine concern for his well being. Steve gives a shaky nod, dropping his eyes to the floor. He doesn’t need to burden this girl with his problems when she’s just trying to be nice to the new kid.

“I can tell you’re lying, but that’s okay. I’m Robin.” She waits a moment and when she can sense he isn’t going to respond to her, she continues, “Mr. Kunkle is a dick, but this class is really easy. Just make sure you take notes.”

He gives her a grateful look for the advice.

Steve opens his notebook and grabs his pencil. He begins copying down what is written on the chalkboard, glad for a task to focus on. He can feel his body calming and his breathing slow down, despite the pain continuing to throb in his head.

The class period is pretty miserable due to his migraine, but as soon as the bell rings, Steve is out of his seat and into the hallway. He knows he’ll need to get his meds from his lockers and take them before he can continue to his next class.

Most of Steve’s morning goes about as well as his first class. After history, he makes it through math, English, and Spanish. Some teachers ask him to introduce himself to the class and he in turn speaks as little as possible. Nobody else is as outright nasty about making fun of him, but he hears the chuckles a few students let out at his speech impediment. Luckily, his migraine fades to a much more manageable level once his meds kick in.

He is almost relieved to make it to lunch time until he realizes that he has no one to sit with. Steve gets in line to get his lunch, knowing he is signed up to get a free one due to how little money his family has. The lunch lady is pleasant and smiles at Steve when he gives his name. As he exits the line, he looks around nervously, just wanting to find an empty table. He finally spots one in the corner of the cafeteria and he heads there quickly, praying no one claims it before he can.

Steve sit with his back to the corner, wanting to be able to observe the other students and not leave himself open to attack. He knows it feels a little irrational, but he’s had bullies dump food on him before and he doesn’t want to be caught off guard.

Once he is settled, Steve begins to eat the meal that they passed off as food. The free lunches are markedly more pathetic looking than the daily special, but he can’t complain about it when it saves his mom money.

Halfway through eating, Steve’s attention is taken away from his food by a hush that falls over the lunchroom. He looks around to see most students are looking at something in the furthest corner of the large room. His gaze follows theirs to see what’s happening. Steve feels a smile threaten to creep onto his face when he finally makes out what’s going on.

A tall, long-haired boy is standing on top of a table and walking across it, throwing his arms around and proclaiming something dramatically. Steve can’t quite hear what the guy is saying, but he seems enthusiastic about it. Steve takes a better look at the teens sitting at the table being walked on and notices they are all wearing similar shirts to the guy on top of it.

Steve can’t pull his eyes away from the scene as a kid in a letterman jacket walks over to the table-walker and says something to him. The guy’s response is to place his fingers in his hair to look like devil horns and stick his tongue out. The jock looks visibly taken aback and quickly leaves the table looking nervous, causing the boy on the table to laugh out loud and then jump back onto the floor dramatically.

Steve can’t help but notice how nice of a smile he has and forces himself to return to his food so he won’t get caught staring at the attractive boy. He doesn’t need the rumors from his last school following him to this new one.

After lunch, science and music class are pretty boring, but uneventful (a win in Steve’s book). It isn’t until gym class, the last period of the day, that he has to see Billy again. The teacher directs Steve to the locker room and tells him what locker he can use to store his things during class. 

Steve takes his school-assigned gym uniform and changes in the bathroom stall, hoping to avoid any altercations with the other boys. When he walks back out, Billy is standing next to his locker, clearly waiting for him.

“Too good to change with the rest of us, pretty boy?” Billy chides.

Steve knows better than to answer him. Engaging with him will only give Billy the reaction he wants. Instead, Steve keeps his eyes glued to the floor while he shoves his clothes in his locker. He attempts to walk past Billy and out the door, back into the gym. His escape is stopped by an arm blocking the doorway. Steve looks around for help and suddenly realizes that they are alone in the locker room.

“I-I don’t want any- any trouble,” Steve chokes out, stepping backwards slowly.

An unsettling smile makes its way onto Billy’s face as he follows Steve’s steps. “Oh, I know you don’t, Harrington. Which is why you’re going to be quiet.”

Steve’s heart continues to beat faster as he frantically looks around for another exit. He feels his back hit the wall and Billy is only a foot away when they both hear the locker room door open. They freeze.

“Hargrove, Harrington, time to run laps! Hustle up, boys.”

The door closes again and Billy looks at Steve. “Don’t get too excited. We’ll be continuing this another time.” He shoves Steve’s chest hard with both hands, causing Steve to hit the lockers behind him with a groan.

He watches the door close behind Billy and waits a moment before following him.

Steve runs his laps around the gym by himself, attempting to stay away from Billy and his friends. Luckily, he is a fast runner and is able to keep himself across the gym at all times.

When they’re done running laps, the gym teacher has them playing basketball. Steve almost whimpers when he gets told he’s not on Billy’s team. He spends the entire game getting slammed into and pushed to the ground ‘accidentally.’

By the time class is done and the final bell rings for the day, Steve is sure he’ll have a lot of bruises tomorrow. He hurries into the locker room and changes in record time, not even bothering to hide in the bathroom stall this time.

When he’s done, Steve runs out into the hallway to his real locker. He grabs his backpack and makes his way to detention. After enduring a full gym class with Billy Hargrove, he can’t wait to just sit down for a while, even if it’s for detention. 

“Mister Harrington, I trust you brought your pencil and paper?” Mr. Kunkle greets him, looking no more impressed with Steve than earlier that day.

“Y-yes, sir.” Steve nods, looking at the floor.

“Good, because you and Mister Henderson will be writing out some lines today... Since neither one of you seems to understand the meaning of punctuality. Take a seat.”  He gestures to the mostly empty classroom.

Steve suddenly becomes aware of another person sitting in the classroom. A boy with curly hair and a toothy smile looks at him and waves. Steve gives him a small smile and sits down in the empty seat next to him.

“Dustin Henderson,” the boy introduces himself immediately, holding out a hand and continuing to smile dorkily.

Steve feels his own smile grow wider as a result. “S-Steve… Steve H-Harrington.” He shakes the offered hand.

Mr. Kunkle clears his throat, drawing their attention back to the chalkboard where he’s writing. “Gentlemen… I will need to see this sentence copied fifty times. In cursive. And don’t think you can skip any lines, I will be counting.”

The words ‘I will not be late to Mr. Kunkle’s class because I am not a delinquent’ finish appearing on the chalkboard and he returns to his desk.

Steve and Dustin take out notebooks and pencils, beginning to write their lines in relative silence aside from the scratching sound of graphite hitting paper. Steve can feel his hands shaking as he attempts to make his cursive legible. His handwriting has never been the best, but his coordination has suffered a lot since the accident.

He is subsequently surprised when he manages to finish his lines before Dustin. Steve gets up to turn them in to Mr. Kunkle for his approval. The older man takes the paper and begins to read over his lines. Steve becomes antsy as he sees his teacher’s expression change. The man looks like he smells something unpleasant and isn’t afraid to show it.

“While you did indeed give me all fifty lines, I can see the lesson was wasted on you. What kind of upstanding student writes like this?”

Steve can feel tears welling up in his eyes. As desperately as he wants to defend himself, Steve stays quiet and digs his nails into his arms, knowing he won’t be able to get words out to explain himself properly anyways when he is this frustrated.

“You may go, Mister Harrington. But, rest assured, I’ll be sending a letter home to your mother about this. You’ve hardly made a good impression as a new student. Detention on your first day and rushing through your assignment? Disappointing.”

Steve is barely aware of nodding to Mr. Kunkle as he gathers his things and walks himself to the parking lot.

His ears are ringing and his heart is pounding along to the throbbing in his head. Steve isn’t sure if he is going to throw up, pass out, or die. Panic attacks happened more and more frequently in the last few months, but he is still blindsided everytime he experiences one.

Steve is distantly embarrassed of the tears making their way down his cheeks as he sits on the steps at the back of the school. He feels like such a failure. His mom had stood up for him and left a marriage where she was provided for and didn’t have to work because she loved him so much. And all he can do is be a fuck up. Steve resolves himself to do better. He can’t make his mom’s sacrifice worth it if he wallows in self pity.

He buries his head between his knees for a minute, willing his nausea away. Next, he focuses on his breathing. His therapist back in California had taught him how to breathe through almost anything. Steve regularly forces himself to count his way through his inhalations and exhalations.

When he feels like he can breathe a bit easier and isn’t as likely to vomit on his shoes, Steve reaches for the pill bottle in his backpack. It has been enough hours since his last migraine pill, so he pops another one and swallows it dry.

He wipes his tears off his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, trying not to start crying again.

Steve startles when the door behind him opens and out walks Dustin Henderson, now with a cap pushing his curls down. He looks surprised to see Steve still at the school ten minutes after he escaped from detention.

“Heeeey, buddy… You doing okay? Mr. Kunkle was being a fucking dickwad in there.” Dustin sits down next to him on the steps. Steve guesses that Dustin can see that he’s been crying because the younger boy gives him an awkwardly friendly arm punch.

“Y-yeah… it’s- I-I’m fine.” Steve knows he doesn’t sound convincing, but it doesn’t help that he starts crying again. He isn’t used to people caring about him aside from his mom.

Dustin looks startled, but concerned. “I feel like you’ve had a pretty shit first day here.” Steve nods, letting out a laugh even though tears continue to fall from his eyes. “Okay, so I have just the thing to cheer you up. If you’re interested, I mean?”

Steve hesitates, not sure what the younger boy is suggesting. “W-what exactly did you- did you have in mind?” He wipes the tears off his face again, attempting to pull himself together.

“Have you ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons, Steve?” He shakes his head in response, the words not ringing a bell. “Okay, well, it’s like a really cool role playing game that involves dice and storytelling and adventure… and stuff. Um, some of us get together a couple times a week to play after school in the abandoned building next door.” He gestures to a dilapidated building on the edge of the parking lot.

“S-sounds… fun?”

Dustin chuckles in response to Steve’s unsure reply.

“You don’t sound totally convinced, but that’s okay. It’s much more fun than I’m making it sound right now. Anyways, we start half an hour after school because one of us always ends up in detention, but we’re actually going to be late if we don’t go now. So you wanna come with?” Dustin gives Steve puppy dog eyes and he finds himself unable to say no to the kind boy.

Dustin smiles as wide as he can when Steve gives him a small nod.

“Awesome! You’re gonna love it, man!” Dustin grabs his arm and begins pulling them both down the stairs and across the mostly empty parking lot. “Just a warning that Eddie is a bit intense, and like I said, we’re late. So he may give us shit, but he means well. I swear he’s nice once you get to know him!”

Steve is fascinated that Dustin can run and talk a mile a minute at the same time and still have air left over to breathe. He might find it annoying if the younger boy wasn’t so endearing.

When they finally reach the door to the abandoned building, Dustin pauses for a moment before looking at Steve with the same goofy grin from earlier.

“Steve, welcome to Hellfire.”

Dustin turns the handle and throws open the door enthusiastically. The creaky door swings open to hit the wall on the inside with a loud bang. Steve flinches at the sound, but follows behind Dustin to find a dimly lit room with a long table and mismatched chairs around it. There are several boys and girls milling about the edges of the room and one person sitting at the head of the table, mostly hidden behind a makeshift screen.

The room that had been filled with conversations quiets to a hush as all eyes turn to Steve. He waits for someone to talk, unsure what he should do.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I brought someone who’s interested in joining our club.” Dustin appears unaffected by the awkward silence in the room, continuing to be his cheery self. Steve wants to object to Dustin’s assertion that he wants to join the club and explain that he was coerced with puppy dog eyes to come along, but he doesn’t think it would help his case.

“What the hell, Dustin? You’re super late, we would’ve started without you if we didn’t need your help so bad. And this guy looks like a douche. Why would you bring him here?” Steve glances down at his outfit, feeling a little offended. He doesn’t think his favorite yellow sweatshirt, worn jeans, and pair of Nikes is that bad of an outfit. Especially when he looks at the jerk who accused him and sees him in the same shirt as everyone else in the room.

Steve suddenly realizes that Dustin is also wearing the shirt with the devil cartoon on it, but he had another shirt over top that was blocking the graphic on it earlier.

Jesus Christ, is he in a cult?

“Shut up, Mike. He’s cool and he’s had a shitty first day, so be nice for once. I already apologized for being late, detention ran long.” God bless Dustin for not bringing up their impromptu therapy session, even if he did bring Steve to a cult meeting to cheer him up.

Mike looks even more irritated at being told to shut up “Eddie, tell Dustin he can’t just bring whoever to Hellfire. These are sacred grounds. We have rules for a reason!”

All the members turn to look at the person sitting at the head of the table who has been silent thus far. Steve turns to look as well, only seeing long dark hair sticking up from behind the screen as the person’s head is still bowed. “Would all of you kindly shut up for a minute?” a smooth voice practically growls.

Steve’s eyes are glued as the mystery person finally stands up slowly, pushing their chair behind them as they rise. He locks eyes with the handsome boy he recognizes from the dramatic lunch scene earlier. Only the guy is even more attractive close up. Steve notices that he is tall with long, dark, curly hair and kind eyes. His mouth shifts into a wolfish grin as he looks Steve up and down, not bothering to hide that he is clearly checking Steve out.

“Hi, Angel. Welcome to Hellfire. My name is Eddie Munson, I didn’t quite catch yours earlier?”

Steve recognizes that voice. Sweet baby Jesus. This was definitely the boy who caught him falling down the stairs that morning. He can’t fight the blush on his cheeks that comes from embarrassment at the memory as well as the pet name he’d just been given.

Dustin lightly bumps Steve’s shoulder to get his attention and he realizes he hadn’t answered Eddie’s question. “S-Steve H-H-Harrington.”

His nerves cause him to choke on his words more than usual and his embarrassment grows worse when he sees Eddie’s eyes soften at his response. Steve is used to people only having one of two reactions to his speech impediment. It’s either pity or humor, Steve isn’t sure which he even prefers anymore.

Eddie gives him a soft smile as he pulls an empty chair closer to his own. “Happy to have you join us, Stevie. We need to get started because as Mike pointed out, we’re running late. You’re welcome to sit next to me though and I can explain what’s going on if you’ve never played before?”

Steve finds himself nodding carefully, not sure entirely what he is agreeing to. He slings his backpack onto the floor under his chair and sits down next to Eddie. He’s vaguely aware of the other members making their way into the free chairs at the table as well.

“So,” Eddie begins, speaking quieter and addressing only him this time. “This is the view from the dungeon master’s lair.” He gestures to the screens in front of them, slightly separating them from the rest of the table.

“W-what’s a dungeon master?” Steve blurts out, immediately wanting to cover his mouth when he realizes that he interrupted Eddie. He stares at the floor, attempting to not attract anymore attention.

Eddie ignores his efforts to withdraw and surprises Steve when he begins to run a gentle hand through Steve’s hair as he answers. Steve feels his blush return at the soothing action.

“That would be me, darling. I run the show around here. I plan the campaigns and decide the fate of the party. Well, me, and the dice of course.” Eddie continues to smile at him and Steve could’ve sworn he sees him glance at his lips.

Steve hesitates before questioning the unfamiliar term, “Campaign?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s like a general idea of what’s going to happen in our adventure. This is a role playing game, so some things are up to the party and sheer luck, but I plan ahead of time so we have a roadmap. Make sense, babe?” Steve feels his heart melt at the term of affection accompanied with the hand still running through his hair.

Their private bubble behind the screen is popped by an interruption from an annoyed young girl sitting across the table. “Can you two stop flirting so we can defeat Vecna already?”

Steve’s cheeks warm, but is reassured when he sees the dungeon master also become flustered by the comment as he pulls away from Steve. Eddie clears his throat before dropping his voice back to his low growl from earlier. ”Of course, Lady Applejack. After all, Vecna operates on the command of elves.” Steve is a little taken aback at the biting sarcasm that flows so easily from Eddie, in contrast to the sugary tone he had been using for Steve.

“Half-elf, and don’t you forget it! And we’ve already wasted half of our time thanks to Dustin and Steve being late. Our mom is coming in an hour, Eddie.” Steve is impressed at the guts this girl has to not back down.

“Y’know, it’s crazy. Despite this being my third time through my senior year, I can read a clock all by myself, Erica.” Steve stores this information away for later, surprised at the boy’s willingness to joke about his academic shortcomings. 

Eddie turns to address only him this time, his voice back to a softer sound. “Baby, you and I can get together another time outside of here so I can explain Dungeons and Dragons to you. But Sinclair is right, I gotta get the show on the road.” ]

Steve nods dumbly, surprised his mouth hadn’t dropped open at Eddie’s blatant flirting. Eddie simply gives him a small smile, pats him on the head, and stands up.

The dungeon master wasn’t exaggerating when he said that it was a show. Steve has never been so entertained in his life. Eddie has a flair for the dramatic, which Steve had only caught a glimpse of in the lunchroom earlier. But add in Eddie’s sound effects, voices for characters, and his storytelling abilities and Steve is blown away.

Steve’s face almost hurts from how much he’s smiled in the last hour, finding himself invested in the story. He is a little disappointed when someone finally calls attention to the time.

“We should probably wrap up, guys. My brother is gonna be here any minute and you know how he gets when I’m late.” A red headed girl grabs her things and heads towards the door. The other members continues to stare at Eddie, seeming to wait for permission for something.

“You all heard Mayfield. Do you want to be stuck in the parking lot with her asshole of a brother? We can pick it up from here on Monday.” The Hellfire club looks collectively disgusted by the thought and all hurry to grab their stuff.

Steve also grabs his backpack and waits for Eddie to pack up his D&D stuff. He is impressed by how many books, maps, and dice that entails.

“Did you need something, pumpkin, or are you just waiting for me?” Eddie glances over at Steve as he finishes folding the last map and tucking it into his bag.

“Oh I-I just… um.” He doesn’t know why he’s waiting for Eddie, Steve just knows he likes him and feels safe next to him, but he can’t exactly say that out loud. As they exit the building side by side, Steve says the next best thing he can think of instead. “D-do you know which- which way the Forest Hills Trailer P-Park is?”

“Sure, do. Why do you ask?” Eddie looks at him curiously.

Steve is embarrassed to admit the next part. “I w-was supposed to- to take the b-b-bus home. But I got detention.”

“Were you… planning on walking there? That’s quite a ways, Bambi.” Steve gives an unenthusiastic shrug in response, it isn’t like he has any other options.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m headed in that direction.” Eddie gives him a soft smile and gestures to a van nearby. “Hop in, buttercup.”

Steve feels his blush return as he follows Eddie’s instructions. Sitting in the same car by themselves feels drastically different than in a room full of other people.

Eddie starts the car and begins to leave the parking lot. He waits only a moment before looking over at Steve. “How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.” Steve answers, confused by the abrupt question.

Steve swears he hears Eddie mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “Oh, thank God,” before continuing louder, “So what brings you to Hawkins?”

Steve hesitates, unsure how much of his past he wants to reveal to the other boy. “M-my mom and I left California to… to s-start over.” His cover story feels shallow, but Steve isn’t ready to bare his soul to a virtual stranger, no matter how handsome and flirty he might be.

Eddie hums, acknowledging the answer and appears to be mulling the information over. “And Hawkins, Indiana is the place to do that, hmmm?” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but Steve just nods in response. “Do you have relatives here?” Steve shakes his head. Eddie tries again. “Did your mom move here for a job?” Another shake. Eddie sighs, exasperated. “I get the feeling there’s more to this story.”

“I-it’s… complicated,” he finishes lamely.

“I see.” Steve is looking straight ahead at the road, but the feel of Eddie’s curious stare is heavy. He finally turns to make eye contact with the older boy. “I don’t mean to push you, but people are going to ask questions here. They’re suspicious of things that don’t make sense in a town like this. And you, my darling, do not make sense… Especially because you’re wearing two-hundred dollar sneakers, but you live in a trailer park.”

Steve began to defend himself as he fidgets under Eddie’s scrutiny. “It’s com-“

“Complicated. I got it,” Eddie interrupts. Steve feels another panic attack starting at Eddie’s invasive questions. His hands start to shake and the beginning of a migraine pounds at his temples. As he attempts to get his medication out of his backpack, he fumbles with the zipper, quickly becoming frustrated.

He’s only vaguely aware of Eddie parking the car and reaching out his hands to attempt to help Steve, despite not knowing what Steve’s trying to do.

Steve hands the backpack over to him and whispers, “P-pill bottle. Front pocket.” Eddie’s eyes widen for a moment before softening again. He quickly pulls the medicine bottle out and pours a pill into the cap to hand to Steve.

“Thanks.” Steve dry swallows the bitter pill. He then turns to see Eddie reading his medication bottle label. When Eddie’s gaze falls on him again, Steve raises an eyebrow, not sure why Eddie is giving him a funny look.

“Babe, how many of these have you taken today?”

Steve mentally tallies up the total before holding up 3 fingers to Eddie. Eddie looks upset at this. “This is some strong shit, the bottle says you should only take 1 to 2 pills a day, Stevie.”

Steve would laugh if Eddie didn’t look so genuinely concerned for his health. “It’s fine, Eddie. I get a- a lot of m-migraines.”

“Did… did I cause your migraine?” Eddie asks in a shy voice. “I could see you were getting upset and I should’ve stopped. I just wanted to understand where you came from… It’s not like we get a lot of queers in Indiana.”

Steve flinches at the term, unsure if it’s even worth denying. If Eddie already knows, he is probably going to get beat up regardless. “How did- how did you know?”

At his response, Eddie’s gentle smile returns. “Babydoll, I’ve been openly flirting with you for hours. If you weren’t interested in boys, you would have punched me by now.”

“Oh.” Steve doesn’t have a good response to that. His dad definitely fucked his head up if he thinks that the person flirting with him would kick the shit out of him.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Dustin said you had a shitty day, so I’m not surprised that you’re a bit out of it.” He clears his throat. “Anyways, we’re here.” Steve looks up, surprised. He didn’t notice that they were parked in the trailer park.

“You didn’t need to p-p-park. You could’ve just- just dropped m-me off,” Steve whispers, embarrassed that Eddie would see where he lives.

His statement is apparently funny because it causes Eddie to smile wide again. “I definitely could’ve dropped you off… but since I live here too, it would’ve been a bit weird.”

Steve lets out a nervous laugh and another small, “Oh,” in response.

Eddie steps out of the car, Steve following suit. Eddie nods his head to the trailer the van is parked next to. “My Uncle Wayne and I live here. I’m guessing you’re the ones who just moved in next door?”

Steve nods, shyly smiling at the older boy. “Yeah. That’s ours.” He hesitates to walk further away, knowing this is probably where they part ways, but not wanting to leave the older boy’s company.

Eddie seems to feel the same way because he abruptly asks, “Did you want to come over to mine for a bit? I just got a new strain that’s really good.” Steve probably looks as confused as he feels because Eddie chuckles at his lack of verbal response. “Pot? Weed? Devil’s lettuce? Heard of it, princess?” And boy does that nickname do something funny to Steve’s stomach.

“Never tried it b-before,” he replies with an awkward smile. Steve isn’t uptight, but he’d never been offered weed by anyone. Eddie places a hand low on his back, leading him towards his trailer.

“No time like the present then. Come on, Stevie, let’s go pop your cherry.”

Steve actually trips on his feet at that one and Eddie almost looks apologetic as he just barely keeps Steve from falling to the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters as he rights himself and sends Eddie an indignant look. Eddie’s smile just gets bigger and his eyes practically sparkle with glee at Steve’s reaction. “Can’t just s-s-say shit like that.”

“Sorry, baby.” Eddie doesn’t sound sorry at all. He continues in a singsong tone, “You seem to trip around me a lot. Although you couldn’t get away from me fast enough this morning.”

“…I w-was really hoping you wouldn’t- wouldn’t realize that w-was me.”

Eddie shoots him a pointed look. “As if I could forget an angel falling on me first thing in the morning.” Steve gives him an unimpressed look back. “Also your sweatshirt is bright yellow, it’s hard to forget.”

“Fuck.”

Eddie chuckles as he unlocks his trailer and Steve follows him inside. It doesn’t look terribly different than Steve’s, although it’s definitely more lived-in than his. It’s relatively clean aside from some beer cans on the kitchen counter and full ashtrays scattered on random flat surfaces. Steve’s formal upbringing forces him to remark, “It’s nice.”

Eddie snickers, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him for Steve to sit. “It’s really not. But thanks for trying.”

Steve doesn’t know how to respond, so to his embarrassment, another apology slips out. “S-sorry.”

Eddie gives him a contemplative look as Steve sits next to him and fidgets with his hands nervously. “Why do you do that?”

“Hmmmm?” Steve isn’t sure what Eddie’s referring to, but he stills his hands, afraid he’s annoying him.

“The constant apologizing, Steve.” He’s pretty sure that’s the first time Eddie said his actual name. “You don’t owe anyone anything, including me. Don’t apologize unless you actually hurt someone; you don’t need to say you’re sorry just for existing.”

Steve resists the urge to say he’s sorry again and instead gives a small nod to acknowledge Eddie’s statement, hoping that will be the end of this conversation on the topic.

Eddie seems satisfied enough with his agreement, pulling a lunchbox from under the coffee table. Steve doesn’t know a lot about drugs, but he sees there’s a lot in the box. He spots baggies full of weed and pills, joints, lighters, and other things he doesn’t recognize. Eddie pulls out a joint and lighter, his movements appearing quick and practiced as he lights the joint.

“Y-you do this a- a lot?” Steve immediately wants to shove the words back in his mouth after he blurts out the first thing that popped into his head, hoping his curiosity doesn’t come off as judgement.

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh, not seeming offended by the question. He takes a long drag before answering, “Yes. But also, no. I only smoke weed. I deal to the idiots of this town though. Most of this is product, not my personal stash.”

Steve feels a little relieved that Eddie isn’t a drug addict. Weed is one thing, but the pills make Steve much more anxious. He’s flustered when Eddie attempts to hand him the joint, unsure what to do with it.

“Have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” Eddie asks him, positioning the joint in Steve’s hand. Steve shakes his head softly and Eddie gives him a questioning look as Steve hands the joint back, too afraid to do it wrong. “Wow, Harrington, were you sheltered or something?”

He doesn’t ask it in a mean way, but it still hurts Steve’s feelings a little bit.

“N-not exactly. My coach and my… d-d-dad would’ve killed me if- if I smoked.”

“Coach, hm? So you were a jock?” Eddie asks teasingly as he takes another drag.

Steve hesitantly replies, “Captain of the b-basketball and swim teams.”

Eddie doesn’t attempt to hide his surprise. “Well, shit. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you were insanely popular too?” Steve doesn’t bother to answer the rhetorical question. He had indeed been popular before his life went to hell.

After a momentary pause in the conversation, Steve turns to Eddie and asks, “Show m-me what to do?”

Eddie’s grin returns. “Sure, sweetheart. Watch me first.” Steve’s mouth goes dry as he observes the seductive way Eddie sucks in the smoke, holds it for a few seconds, and then breathes it in. When Eddie slowly blows smoke out and returns his stare, Steve has the decency to feel embarrassed at his lack of blinking.

“Wanna try?” Eddie holds the joint out and this time Steve takes it. He attempts to mimic Eddie’s actions. It goes about as well as he figured it would. Eddie only lets out a small chuckle as he gently pats Steve on the back during his cough fit. “Yeah, I should’ve clarified that I’ve been doing this for years. You need to start slow. Don’t try to inhale it very long or you’ll choke on it.”

Steve’s eyes water, but he doesn’t back down from the dramatic glare he gives Eddie. This just causes Eddie to laugh harder until they’re both cracking up on the couch.

When they finally settle down, Steve tries again to take a drag. His second attempt is significantly better, but he still coughs a little on the exhale. Eddie seems pleased. “Much better, baby.”

They continue to pass the joint back and forth for a while, Steve finally beginning to feel the effects of the weed. His head feels calm and his senses aren’t dialed to ten like they normally are. Steve actually understands why so many people smoke if this is how relaxed they get from it.

“Feels good, yeah?” Eddie asks with a kind smile as if he can read Steve’s mind. He puts an arm across the top of the couch and lets his dangling hand run through Steve’s hair in a soothing motion. Steve definitely doesn’t hate it.

“This is n-nice. Kinda wish I tried it sooner.” Eddie’s eyes soften as he uses his arm to pull Steve closer to him, allowing the younger boy to cuddle against his side and lean his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“A little bit of weed and he purrs like a kitten,” Eddie mutters mostly to himself as he extinguishes their joint in an ashtray. Steve hears the remark anyway and smiles.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of me w-when I’m vulnerable.” This pulls a small chuckle out of Eddie that cuts off abruptly. “What?” Steve asks lazily, his eyes closed at this point and far too relaxed to really care what’s going on.

He hears the hesitation in Eddie’s breathing before he responds. “I hate to point this out at the risk of fucking it up… but did you notice that your stutter is almost gone when you’re high?” It takes a second for the words to penetrate the fog around Steve’s brain.

“Huh?”

Eddie continues, insistent. “Your stutter. It’s just a lot better right now. Have you always had it?”

Steve thinks Eddie is asking far too many questions for how high he is. “What?”

Eddie laughs, not unkindly, at his response. He uses his free hand to continue petting at Steve’s hair. Steve relaxes again, snuggling closer to Eddie’s shoulder. “Christ, I forgot you’d be a lightweight, angel… I asked if you’ve always had a stutter.”

“Oh... No. Not until my d-dad beat the shit out of me. Gave me m-migraines too.” There’s a loud silence that keys Steve into the fact that he fucked up. He’s never wanted to take back his words more than at this moment. Unfortunately, he’s too high to explain this to Eddie properly. What comes out instead is, “Nononono I wasn’t s’posed to tell you. Fuck.”

He’s too tired to open his eyes until he feels Eddie’s hand move away from his hair to cup his cheek. Steve’s face is inches away from Eddie’s when he opens his eyes. Eddie looks incredibly sad and Steve thinks he would do anything to fix it. “Your dad beat you so badly that he gave you brain damage?” Eddie questions softly. Steve nods minutely, afraid of making Eddie more upset. “Is that why you moved to Hawkins?” Another hesitant nod.

“M-my mom divorced him while I-I was in the hospital. Then we came h-here. She signed a prenup, so- so we’re broke now.” Steve’s eyes begin to water. He tries not to think about his life most of the time so that he won’t get upset, but admitting it out loud to someone else makes it real.

“Oh my God, Stevie. I’m so sorry. I thought you were hiding something, but I wouldn’t have asked if I thought it was that serious.” Eddie sounds genuinely apologetic, so Steve can’t find it in him to be upset with the older boy.

“It-it’s fine. My d-dad has always hit me, but that time was different. N-normally he doesn’t do it in- in front of my mom.”

Eddie looks like he’s going to be sick, but he asks anyways, “What was different about that time?”

Steve blows out a slow breath of air. “H-he walked in on me… kissing a b-boy.”

“Shit,” is all Eddie can muster for a moment. “And what did your boyfriend do?”

Steve is quick to correct him. “Not my b-boyfriend. Just a friend. Tommy… ran away. I thought he l-liked me. Apparently not.”

Eddie responds without words this time, pulling Steve back against his shoulder and wrapping both arms around his shaking frame. Steve feels a shallow kiss pressed into his hair and he relaxes back into the comforting hold.

The two boys stay like this for a while in relative silence aside from Steve’s sniffles and the general background noise of the trailer park outside. The barking dogs and cars driving by act as a lullaby for Steve and he drifts to sleep.

Steve doesn’t realize that both of them dozed off at some point until he feels Eddie startle at the sound of the front door opening. This causes Steve to practically dive to the other side of the couch, abruptly aware of the precarious position they are in. At some point during their nap, Steve had ended up lying on top of Eddie’s chest, the older boy flat on his back with an arm still curled around Steve. Eddie follows Steve to sit up, taking his time to stretch as he does so.

“Welcome back, Wayne. How was work?” Confusion radiates from Steve as Eddie makes small talk with his uncle, no signs of stress in his body language or tone of voice. Steve shoots Eddie an inquiring look, there was no way Wayne hadn’t seen them snuggled up on the couch moments ago. Eddie appears oblivious, continuing to smile and wait for a response.

“It was good, Eddie. How was school?” Wayne kicks off his work boots and sets an old lunchbox on the counter in the kitchen. Steve assumes he’s a mechanic from his attire.

“Fine. Hellfire’s campaign today went well. And we, uh… found a new member too.” Eddie finally looks over at Steve, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Oh yeah? You gonna introduce him at some point, Ed, or just gonna let him keep looking terrified over there?” Wayne asks with a chuckle as he makes his way back to the living room.

“Right. Stevie, this is my Uncle Wayne. Wayne, meet Steve Harrington. He and his mom just moved in next door.”

Wayne comes in closer to shake his hand briefly. “Nice to m-meet you, Mr. M-Munson.” Steve can tell the weed has worn off and he wonders how long they were asleep for.

“Wayne is fine, son. So you boys are… friends?” Steve blushes, aware that Wayne absolutely saw them on the couch, but evidently wasn’t terribly bothered by it. He lets Eddie answer his uncle, unsure what to say. They’d just met today, but it was clear that the attraction was mutual between them.

“Yeah, Wayne. Just friends… for now.” Eddie says the last part quieter, but still loud enough that everyone in the room hears him.

Wayne clears his throat as he turns to go to his bedroom. “Okay. Just remember that the walls here are thin.” It’s Steve’s turn to hold back a laugh as Eddie’s face turns redder than his own.

“When’s the last time I brought anyone home with me, Wayne? Jesus H. Christ, you act like I’m the town slut.”

Steve’s laughter bursts out of him, unable to hold it back at Eddie’s dramatics.

“Long enough that I’m being nice to your new friend. Steve, I’m so sorry about him. I swear I raised my nephew better than this.” Steve just laughs harder, clutching his stomach from the pain of shaking so hard. Eddie’s face gets a dopey smile on it and he jokingly flips Wayne the bird as his uncle wishes them a good night.

“Alright, princess, enough with the laughter. Your mom is probably wondering where you are.” Eddie ruffles his hair and Steve’s giggles taper off.

“What t-time is it?” Eddie points to a clock on the wall across from them. Steve squints and makes out the time as a little after eight. His mom likely wasn’t going to be home for some time yet, but he was tired from the long day.

“Can I walk you home?” Steve gives him an incredulous look, aware that they both know it’s a thirty second walk to his front door.

“W-why? Hoping to get a goodnight k-kiss?” Steve teases him, feeling Eddie earned it for all the flirting he’d done today.

Eddie just gives him a cocky smile before reaching a hand up to hold the back of Steve’s neck. He freezes, waiting for the older boy to make a move. The older boy brings their faces close and their lips are near enough that they share the same air for a moment. They brush together lightly as Eddie whispers, “This okay, beautiful?”

“Y-yeah.” He’d barely breathed the word out before Eddie had closed the small gap between them. Steve was distantly aware of Eddie’s free hand cupping his jaw and running his thumb over his cheek soothingly. Steve’s own hands raise to grip Eddie’s shirt, pulling their bodies together until Steve is sat on Eddie’s lap.

The sound of a drawer closing in the direction of Wayne’s room shocks them back into reality and Steve stands up quickly, pulling Eddie off the couch with him.

“I-I think it’s time for me to g-go home now,” Steve whispers with a small smile that Eddie returns.

Steve turns to head towards the door, but is stopped by a hand grabbing his own. He looks back at the older boy who hasn’t moved. Eddie has a look of amazement on his face. “Wha-?”

Eddie pulls him back against his chest, planting a chaste kiss on his forehead. “God, you’re pretty.” Steve lets out a small giggle and returns the embrace by wrapping his arms around Eddie. Eddie begins running one of his hands up and down Steve’s back comfortingly. Steve is shocked by the small whine he lets out, not used to anyone treating him so delicately.

“I’m serious, baby. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry if I’m coming on a bit strong. I’m not exactly the kind of person who says I love you on the first date or anything. But something about this feels different.”

Steve knows exactly what Eddie means, he’s also aware of how crazy that probably makes both of them. You don’t fall in love in a day. And this wasn’t exactly love persay, but holy shit was it the closest thing Steve had ever felt to it. “I- I get it. You feel like home. Like- um, safety.” A tear manages to escape Steve’s eye and he buries his head further into Eddie’s chest, hoping he doesn’t notice.

Eddie peppers a few more soft kisses to the top of his head before finally easing his hold off Steve. “Let’s get you home before we end up running away to Vegas and finding a twenty-four hour chapel.”

Steve’s heart pounds at the idea and he finds that he doesn’t hate the suggestion, despite it clearly being a joke. He files the thought away for a later day.

When Eddie ‘dropped him off’ at his door that night, he told Steve he could drive him to school on Monday and for the foreseeable future. There was no point in making his mom go out of her way if Eddie was driving there anyways (also he didn’t mind having a few more minutes in the day to see Steve).

It had been several weeks since that day and their lives have meshed completely since then. The boys discovered that their bedroom windows are a few feet away from each other and thus stayed awake almost every night talking with the windows cracked until it got too cold in November. Then, they either just hang in the back of Eddie’s van for hours or in one of their trailers if nobody is home.

Steve joined Hellfire unofficially, refusing to actually play, saying he’d rather listen to Eddie’s storytelling and help Eddie plan his campaigns at home. Eddie gave up trying to convince him after the first few sessions, but the kids would badger him occasionally, not willing to let it go completely.

He was still bullied at school for his stutter, mostly by Billy. But after one fateful day in the cafeteria involving a lunch tray on Steve’s head, Eddie cleaning him up in the bathroom while he sobbed, a consequential broken nose for Billy, and a two-day suspension for Eddie, Steve tended to avoid any confrontation. And most people left him alone in return, too afraid of his guard dog of a boyfriend to mess with Steve “The Stutter” Harrington (God help anyone who dared to call Steve that in front of Eddie Munson).

Steve also found an after school job at Scoops Ahoy in the mall working with Robin. It helped his mom pay the bills and he gained another friend. Robin soon confided in him that she was a lesbian and they became best friends quickly. He only worked a few shifts a week, mostly on the weekends, but Eddie always found an excuse to visit him (and see him in his very short sailor shorts).

Eddie eventually confessed to Wayne that they were dating now. Wayne extended his congratulations to them and told Steve that he was welcome in their home anytime. Steve was grateful for Wayne’s support and glad that Eddie had such a good parental figure in his life. Especially after Eddie had confessed his own baggage to Steve and explained that his mom was dead and his dad was in prison for murdering her.

Steve’s mom didn’t take the news of their relationship as well, but tried to be understanding. She knew Steve was gay after his dad had beat him, but still wasn’t entirely comfortable with Eddie being his boyfriend. She was never outright rude to Eddie, even invited him to dinner regularly. But she always referred to him as Steve’s friend and didn’t allow him to spend the night.

Overall, Steve adjusted to his life in Indiana. He had a loving boyfriend and his migraines and stutter had gotten a lot better since he wasn’t as stressed anymore. They didn’t go away completely, but Eddie knew how to take care of Steve when he was having a migraine. He kept track of how much water Steve drank everyday and would sit in silence in the dark with him on his bad days. Eddie also knew how to comfort Steve when his stutter was upsetting him and making him frustrated. Steve was grateful for Eddie’s patience and gentleness with him.

Life was good and despite the Hellfire Club’s disgusted reactions to Steve and Eddie being sappy all the time, they were happy for them.