roguesgallery
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Eddie remembered nothing, and then he remembered Steve. His voice. His hands. Bits and pieces of scattered stimuli, coming to him like microbes on a blurry microscope.
He found out, later, that it had been Steve who had hauled him off the ground, and had dragged his warm corpse back from hell. It had been Steve to deliver compressions until he’d miraculously made it to the ambulance, and it had even been Steve who’d driven Wayne to the ICU afterwards.
Then he kept sticking around.
A casual hookup. Two. Three. Now they fuck every other weekend and Eddie couldn’t ignore the way it was making him feel. It was lovely, he felt so sweet, he’s a willing plum ready to rot in Steve’s careful hands. Steve would enjoy him and treasure him and lick his mouth clean after every bite— but this wasn’t made to last.
Bookmarked by roguesgallery
17 Jun 2026
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Becca had this phase where she was really into playing pinball — handheld ones, not the big machines, which was a relief. The big ones are really noisy. But anyway. Becca had read all the manuals, even looked up reviews online, and she swore there was a strategy to it, that you could control where the ball landed, if you just hit it at a certain angle, with just the right amount of strength. But Mel was missing the hand-eye coordination, or the muscle memory, or something, because to her, it all seemed totally random, like nothing she did made any difference as to where that damn ball ended up.
Conversations with Trinity feel kind of like that, sometimes. Like watching a tiny silver ball come racing down towards her, frozen in silent panic, Becca chanting in her ear to hit it, just hit it, knowing full well she's only going to miss.
Mel is really, really bad at pinball. In case that part wasn't clear.
Bookmarked by roguesgallery
11 Jun 2026
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On the Fourth of July 1985 Eddie Munson decides to go to the cinema to watch Back to the Future. His curiosity gets him involved into something crazy and dangerous, but at least he gets an unlikely friendship with Steve Harrington out of it. Now, if only he could not fuck it up.
aka Eddie gets involved with the upside down at starcourt, starts hanging out with Steve, and by the time Vecna comes things are complicated.
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Steve’s still figuring Eddie out. Like how he'll wheedle and give Steve shit for an offhand remark or tone of voice. It’s not like Tommy, where there was always something darker looming behind his cocked brow or narrowed eyes. The wrong kind of look meant tipping the scales towards an inevitable violence.
With Eddie the wrong look will get cigarette smoke blown in Steve’s face. The wrong words will get teased and playfully flipped back in a way that makes it feel like Eddie’s gently humbling him. Like each time Steve’s face goes warm with embarrassment it’s another strike to the long-dead King Steve. It’s mostly harmless. It’s intriguing. It’s the type of game Steve wants to understand so he can play it back.
Or, a totally unoriginal post-s4 summer fix-it fic where Steve questions what he’s scared of, what he wants, and where Eddie Munson fits.
Plus—how did Eddie learn how to braid hair?
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“Are you alright?” Steve asks, walking over and glancing down. “Need a hand?”
“It’s fine, just leave me here.” The man in question sighs and shakes his head, eyes still closed as he lays in the middle of the sidewalk.
“I…” Steve starts, looking around at the pedestrians who peer over their shoulders as they step around the scene carefully. “I could, but then when I see a headline later that a man was found frozen to the sidewalk outside Dunkin, I’ll probably feel bad.”
Mystery Man brushes the hair out of his face and cracks one eye open— big and brown— and Steve thinks the guy might start crying.
What the fuck is going on this morning? He wonders to himself.
“Ice is fucking slippery.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of its thing. C’mon,” Steve extends a hand that Mystery Man finally accepts, his gloved hand soft and velvety in Steve’s bare hand.
“Thanks. I’m uh, I’m Eddie.”
“Steve.”
Or, Gym Teacher and Hockey Coach Steve Harrington meets Eddie Munson outside of a Dunkin Donuts. As any New Englander knows, it's the beginning of a beautiful thing.