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Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.
That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.
Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.
Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre-dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.
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Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.
All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright. Everyone seems to be fine, so Eddie did what he set out to do.
Eddie was brave.
Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.
He closes his eyes.
There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.
Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.
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Steve leaves his phone on the counter, on speaker.
“It just doesn’t feel...it’s weird right?”
“What’s weird? Making your boyfriend breakfast?”
Steve huffs, “don’t downplay that.”
“For fucks sake Steve, I’m literally stating fact. He’s your boyfriend. He’s asleep in your bed. You are making food at breakfast time and will deliver it to him in bed-”
“I fucking will not. He’ll get crumbs everywhere. It’ll be sticky. Do you know what the thread count is-”
“Steven.”
Series
- Part 12 of The Ornamental Fountain
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Half packet of goldfish.
Eddie sprinkles them into the lunch box.
No, whole packet.
Eddie sprinkles the rest.
Stevie Love likes goldfish.
Apple, sandwich, goldfish, Eddie stares down at it a little longer. Stevie Love really likes fruit, so Eddie adds a pear. The he decides he wants the pear himself, and swaps it for a banana. He views their lunch boxes, sitting next to each other on the counter. Eddie is pretty sure he’s not missing anything.
He tears off the corner of a cereal box flap, carefully drawing a heart on it before he drops it into Stevie Loves lunch box.
There. All done. Finished.
Series
- Part 10 of Fish-Guy
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Summary
Rob moves closer, pressed together fingers to shoulder, she tilts her head so that her snakes can greet him. They nose Steve’s cheek gently at first, uncertain, before Steve nuzzles them and then they all join in, Steve’s face being licked by dozens of happy tongues. Robin giggles, “dingus.”
All of Robin’s snakes sit low, relaxed, all lovely shades of copper and bronze, just like the scales that decorate her cheekbones and eyebrows. Steve looks down; she’s done something to the scales, glitter, or something, but it looks pretty. Steve before wouldn’t know how to do this; how to give a simple honest compliment to a friend. Old Steve only said things that were shitty, just to make him feel better about himself, “looks nice, the,” Steve gestures vaguely to the space next to his own eyes, where white downy feathers lie flat to his skin, “shiny. I like it."
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Protocol by Stevieschrodinger
Fandom: Captain America (Chris Evans Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
09 Jul 2025
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