abraxaslogs | Lines form on my face and hands

Entry tags:

Lines form on my face and hands

Who: Eddie & you???
When: November
Where: Solvunn, Horizon, Nocwich
What: Catch-all!
Warnings: The Nocwich prompt has some Weed Smoking

Horizon

[ Eddie’s domain is both extravagant and humble, depending on the path you take. On most days, when he’s not hosting a D&D campaign, the castle is shrouded in mist and he can be found in the shabby little trailer tucked somewhere in the trees. Most days this month are no exception. If the door is ajar, you’re welcome to pop your head in, and if you follow the sound of music, and you’ll find Eddie and his guitar both sitting on an unmade bed in the only bedroom in the house, scribbling something on a piece of paper and mumbling to himself over the decidedly un-Eddieish sound of Muddy Waters crackling over the record player speakers. ]

Shit, that’s no good…that’s just Stevie Ray Vaughn and you, Munson, are no Stevie Ray Vaughn…

[ But, if you’re really lucky (or just want to see the castle lbr), on some days you may find the mist cleared and the doors of the castle propped open. If you head inside, you’ll find Eddie seated at the head of a long table, yet scribbling something on a piece of paper. ]

Hey.

[ His gaze flickers up, and he points to whoever’s just entered his space. ]

What sounds like a better enemy? Gelatinous cube or brain mole? Don’t even think. Gut instinct only.

Secondary Settlement; Shrines

[ Eddie has been here for over a year and he has never willingly visited the shrines. He doesn’t know how to feel about the Solvunn gods beyond acknowledging that they probably do exist, which is an incredibly weird feeling for someone who wasn’t raised with any sort of religious background and bad experiences with people who were.

But he does as Wanda suggested. He finds a shrine tucked away in the forest, not fully abandoned but clearly visited less than some of the others if the handful of dried leaves and vines he has to clear away is any indication. He doesn’t leave an offering—not in the tradition sense, at least, but instead, he settles down before the shrine with his guitar. ]

Alright, old gods. [ His gaze flickers upwards, and he clearly feels a little ridiculous, but he’s already come all this way. ] I guess, uh…I guess this one’s for you.

[ And he begins to play, something a little less loud than he’d normally choose, but not at all stripped of the typical Munson spirit. He plays until the last chord rings out, and hesitantly glances around. He’s not entirely sure what he expected to happen. Maybe being smote was in the cards, but nothing is a little disappointing. ]

Alright. Tough crowd.

Nocwich; Smoke circle

[ It’s always upsetting to see someone disappear. It’s also a little terrifying, because no one seems to know where the people who slip from this world go. People try to soothe themselves with the idea that they’ve been returned home, but Eddie doesn’t find a whole lot of comfort in that. As far as he knows, if he slips from Abraxas, he’s nothing but dust in the wind, and the same could go for anyone else.

Klaus is the latest to disappear, and Eddie can’t help but think that Oleuni Square looks especially lonely without its eternal stoner and his supplies there on the grass. So he takes it upon himself to keep the tradition going. He and Klaus always had similar vibes, but at first glance, Eddie is just a little more intense, and maybe just a little less approachable. ]

I’m guessing you’re looking for the other guy? Yeah, well, he’s gone, so I’m what you’ve got. Same weed, though.

Wildcard

[ Anything you want. Find me at

muttonchops if you want to plan something! ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Eddie doesn’t think much of his birthday. Truth be told, he probably only remembers it as often as he does because it’s the day before Halloween, but birthdays were usually pretty sparse growing up. Between a dead mother and an absent father, there were some years where it slipped by entirely without a mention. But when Wayne took him in, the old man always made sure to have something in the way of a celebration for him; a shitty lopsided cake and a new album or book that hat he spent entirely too much of his paycheck on. Most of Hellfire would make it to his annual birthday campaigns as well, usually put on under the guise of a pre-Halloween campaign so no one tried to pull a fast one on him with a surprise party.

That’s what he’s working on now. What he’s been working on all month long. ~~A handwaved campaign for the ages because threading it would be a huge pain…~~ ]

Hey.

[ He speaks up suddenly to Steve, after a long stretch of nothing but the sound of his pen on paper as he works out the final touches for his campaign. ]

I know it’s not really your thing, but, uh…this is me inviting you to my birthday campaign and if you don’t show up, I’m gonna be pissed.

[ He grins, and it’s tough to tell if he’s being serious or not, but he probably isn’t???

He isn't. ]

But you know, no pressure.

[ steve harrington can confidently say that before just a couple of months ago, he had never actually thought about eddie munson's birthday. it went along with the fact that the few thoughts he ever really had about eddie before everything included 'the freak' and some not great opinions, and that was about it. but then things changed, and then they really changed, and now they're at a place where eddie made a throw away comment months ago about his birthday being the day before halloween and steve hasn't stopped remembering it. which sounds....incredibly lame, when he puts it that way, but oh well.

he doesn't know why it's suddenly something that's important. doesn't know why he focuses on it the way he does. all he really does know is that he absolutely flounders with any idea that might actually be anything, until suddenly it clicks into place. he knows what he's doing, and it takes some effort and some planning, but he will get it done. and he does have it done, all wrapped and packaged and hidden away, waiting for...some moment, he supposes, when it makes sense to give it over.

and yeah, the days don't really match up with the holidays and days back home, so steve has no real idea just how close or far away they are from the actual day, but it is the season. it's close to the time. he just doesn't know when will exactly be time, and that means it's been on his mind even more, and- ]

What? [ eddie speaks up after an extended period of quiet. and that was okay, too - they've both gotten fairly comfortable with just sort of being in each other's space. eddie's been writing something, and steve's been cleaning and sharpening his armor pieces and weapons. it's a fairly normal kind of evening, even down to eddie speaking up out of nowhere to break the silence.

i know it's not your thing he starts, which officially gets steve's attention - has him turning to look over his shoulder to the small table in the corner of one of their bedrooms that has officially become 'the hang out room'. eddie's pretty much claimed the table as a writing desk, leaving steve to spend most of his time spreading out across the floor - but hey. it's worked for them so far. ]

Since when haven't I showed up to your games? When you've asked, at least. [ eddie is grinning so steve takes it as him joking around, which then means steve's allowed to roll his eyes. ] I'll be there, 'specically if it's for your birthday. Which- are you doing a whole thing? Like making it a party with cake and presents and all that?

[ very subtle, harrington - but he has to make sure. ]

[ Truth be told, Eddie doesn’t even know what compelled him to tell Steve about his birthday to begin with. Maybe he had been a little high and just let it slip in-between his usual ramblings, or maybe he was feeling exceptionally sentimental that day. Either way, he hadn’t really expected Steve to remember, but the secret is already out, so he may as well not beat around the bush.

In the past, he’d always kept tight-lipped about pretty much anything that wasn’t a D&D campaign or a Corroded Coffin performance. Grades, murders he didn’t commit, birthdays—they’re all packed into the same category, and he’s pretty sure he’s never willingly shared any of that information with anyone. He just doesn’t want people to feel obliged to make a big deal out of it. So he keeps it as low-key as Eddie Munson can keep anything.

But it’s true—Steve has…actually been at most of the games, which is kind of something Eddie hasn’t fully recognized or appreciated until this moment. At this point, he’s more reliable than half of Hellfire ever was. All the same, he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. ]

Just making sure you didn’t choose this campaign to finally realize you're deep into the nerd shit and back out, dude.

[ He has to ask himself why it would really matter. His birthday isn’t an especially huge deal to him, and it’s not like he hasn’t put together more exciting games since arriving here. For all intents and purposes, it’s just an ordinary D&D campaign, but the idea of Steve not being there is just…oddly upsetting, and not in the annoying “you didn’t find a substitute to cover for you” way. Huh. ]

Well, I’m doing a campaign with dragons and fireballs and all that, if that’s what you mean by “doing a whole thing”. Might throw in a Molydeus for flavor, though. Do me a favor and don’t ruin that surprise.

[ Though one would question why Steve would ask... ]

No. It’s just a regular campaign that just so happens to take place on the anniversary of the day I graced the world with my presence.

[ part of steve has noticed that too - the little parts of eddie munson that slip out through the sheer number of hours they spend together. the way that he keeps finding himself adjusting his expectations, realizing his assumptions had been wrong and changing. it takes time and energy, you know? eddie munson shows off like this loud, talkative, open book kinda person - expect that isn't actually true at all. he'll talk for hours about music he knows steve has never listened to, or this one stage performance he'd read in a magazine, or even d&d things every now and then; but he also won't say a single thing about anything close. his family, his life, anything that matters more than a passing comment - really, the only reason steve knows about his birthday is because he's fairly certain eddie had been too high to realize it slipped out. steve had been pretty high himself, honestly, so the fact he remembered it at all is impressive in its own right.

anyway. steve's attention goes back to the leather in his hands and the damp towel he's been using to moisturize or whatever the hell it is nero's been teaching him. ]

You know where I sleep, dude. Even if I wanted to back out - which I don't - you could just find me and make me. [ steve says it casually, without quite realizing the tone that comes along with the words. there's something inherently...well. permanent. about it. like no matter how much he does or doesn't want to be there, he will, because eddie's the one who asked him. like eddie wanting him, or asking him, or however you want to word it, means that steve's opinion on whether or not he wants to doesn't matter quite nearly as much.

he'll be there. they both know that. everything else is just banter.

eddie's answer to his question has steve stilling in his work again, looking over with a slightly furrowed brow. and yes, okay, the confused look may be because of the fact he has absolutely no clue what a 'molydeus' is, but it actually has a lot more to do with how. casually eddie kind of shrugs the whole thing off. ]

Okay... so. [ steve gestures, like he expects eddie to say something more. like why he doesn't want a whole party. why he doesn't want to celebrate. but rather than actually giving eddie any time to answer with as much, steve cuts in. ] Would it be weird if I- people. Did bring stuff? Like, this isn't a party? Or it is but you don't want it to be called one?

[ so smooth. god he's the smoothest. there's absolutely no way he's making this at all weird. ]

[wanda steps up from behind eddie, once he's done with his song, clapping moderately after his comment of it being a tough crowd. there's a smile on his face, like she just knows why this is happening, pleased all the same for him giving it a shot.]

Well, I liked it.

[and, reaching him, she crouches down beside him, and produces a small wooden harmonica out of a pocket.]

For you.

[ At first, Eddie’s only response is a dark sort of chuckle that might sound pretty eerie to anyone who doesn’t know him better, but it’s clear that he’s playing things up for dramatic effect, because—well, it’s true. It’s all just banter in th end, but he does know where Steve sleeps and he could literally force him to come to any campaign if he wanted to be annoying about it.

In the end, he never is. The invitation is eternally on the table, the door is forever open, and they both know that. There’s just something about Eddie needing to know Steve is going to be at this particular game which…is sort of weird. He doesn’t know why he feels such an insufferable need to know Steve’s going to be there when it really doesn’t make a difference in the end, but it is what it is, and “huh” is really the only answer he has for himself.

Weird. Extremely weird. ]

Would it be weird?

[ He echoes, puts his pen down, and rests his head against his hand with a wild, amused grin. ]

Well, Steve, it would be kind of weird considering you’re the only person I’ve told since I was about eight years old.

[ He doesn’t seem to be angry or upset, just amused with the whole thing. ]

But, uh...no, I guess it wouldn't be any weirder than...pretty much anything else that could happen in this place. Why?

Hey, at least someone did.

[ He grins and takes an ungainly little half-bow over his guitar, happy for some sort of reaction to relieve a bit of the awkwardness that comes along with any silence post-performance.

Then Wanda offers him a small wooden harmonica, and he lights up as he reaches for it. ]

Oh, shit! For me? You absolutely shouldn't have.

[ He tries it out immediately, not really knowing exactly how to play, but just getting a feel for it and its sound, and he looks overjoyed just to have something new to work with. ]

Now this? This is an instrument for the gods. Maybe not as good as like…a kazoo or maracas or something, but not bad at all. Thanks so much.

[his delight is contagious, and wanda glances over at the shrine that he's been praying to as he tries out the harmonica. it's obvious that he doesn't know how to play it just yet, but there's no doubt in wanda's mind that he'll get the hang of it soon.

she turns back to him with a smile.]

I think we'll leave the kazoo and maracas for later. I figured that one instrument at a time would be more prudent.

[as he masters them, that is.]

Do you want to try out the quiet way?

[of reaching to the gods in prayer, that is, to complement his music.]

[ the dark chuckle absolutely has steve rolling his eyes - an equally dramatic, and now-familiar reaction to eddie's moments of played-up responses. steve officially is one of such people who know eddie better, and therefore he doesn't even question it. because it is just banter, it's become the norm between the two of them, and (like it is with most things) they've both fallen into their respective spots. steve doesn't think much about it, how he plays how to be this person and act this way and respond because of dustin, because so much of this is very similar to the time he spent with him, but again - he doesn't think about that. because dustin isn't here, and the hole in his chest when he remembers that is sometimes too much.

plus, again, even if it is just banter - steve knows what it means to just show up for people. whether it's friends, or girlfriends, or whoever else; whether or not he actually wants to be somewhere or do something, generally steve will be there. he's seen more high school games than he ever really wanted to after he graduated, since robin would always be playing at them. and he went to quite a few dinners with barb's parents, because nancy didn't want to be alone. steve knows that these games are important to eddie, and so he tries, he tries pretty hard actually, and he hasn't been kicked out yet.

all this to say - this is about eddie. and apparently about how eddie hasn't told a single person in over a decade about his birthday. steve frowns, and the furrow of his brow is somewhere between genuinely confused and worried he missed something. eddie's not upset, though, and seems to be more interested in taking the piss out of steve for asking, but still. ]

Hold up. You haven't told anyone about your birthday since you were eight? [ steve can not compute. ] You didn't want a party or anything? Presents? I mean- shit, my favorite birthday party ever was my tenth one. Are you weird about birthdays?

Well, Steve, it’s not that I don’t think I’m the most interesting man in the world or anything, because let’s face it, I totally am—

[ He grins as he cracks another joke, like he’ll crumple up and wither away if he doesn’t make sprinkle them throughout every conversation he has. It slowly drifts away from his face as he pushes his chair back and comes to join Steve on the floor—common ground—and reaches for a piece of armor to help him clean without asking or being asked.

He knows that part of Steve’s confusion with his weirdness surrounding birthdays lies in their different upbringings. He’s noticed that Steve is never quick to talk about his parents (and that in and of itself is interesting), but money is a factor, no matter how you dice it. He remembers becoming keenly aware of his family’s financial situation after his mom died, and how it conditioned him into feel guilty asking for anything that seemed less than necessary.

He’s not mad at Steve for that, though. There’s something endearing about it, honestly, talking about birthdays like they’re ten years old. Either way, he knows it’s coming from a good place, because he’s never actually seen Steve be anything but totally earnest. ]

I’ve got nothing against birthdays. I mean, definitely not looking forward to losing my hair like my uncle, but… [ He still hasn’t worked out if aging applies to him or not. ] But my dad’s kind of a deadbeat and missed more than half of them, and I’m not gonna put all that on Wayne. The guy’s paycheck only stretches so far and I’ve been eating into it for years. I guess in the end, it just wasn’t a big deal and I didn’t wanna be the guy that made it a big deal. Bigger, more important things, you know?

[ But he doesn’t deny that at some point, he probably did want those things. A party, presents, to be the sole focus of the day. He doesn’t remember when it happened but after awhile, he just learned not to waste his wishes or his time. It wasn’t all bad; Wayne tried. Hell, even his dad tried a few times, in his own way. He refuses to mention that his tenth birthday present from his dad was car-boosting lessons, and in hindsight, he can thank the guy for forcing him to keep that skill practiced, but it was never something he enjoyed knowing.

He clearly isn’t looking for pity, though, and he isn’t feeling sorry for himself. He just shrugs and states frankly and honestly. That’s just the way it is, the way it’s been for a long time. ]

Why was ten your favorite birthday?

[ the joke lands like most of the others eddie tells - with steve somewhere between wanting to huff a laugh just to acknowledge he knows eddie is joking, and steve wanting to roll his eyes so far back in his head he falls back to the floor. he chooses this time around to go with something of a combination, huffing out a noise as his eyes are back on his task, the armor and leather pieces he's still working through. it's only when eddie comes to join him that steve looks back over towards him, something...curious gnawing at him.

eddie reaches for one of the pieces and just sort of starts cleaning, and there are a few seconds there where steve just sort of watches him do it, watches the way his fingers work with the cloth and the oils, the leather straps and the clasps. these aren't eddie's things, eddie hasn't really gotten into the whole armor-wearing bit of this fantasy world like steve has, but he knows what he's doing. the two of them have spent too many other evenings, or afternoons, or mornings in this exact spot - their hands busy, and the conversation varied. this time, though, steve feels like he really needs to listen for some reason, and in that process his own hands have stilled somewhat.

that's when eddie mentions his dad ( again, because steve remembers watching eddie's hands work at different metals before - stripping wire, hotwiring the rv. it was the only reason they even got out of there, eddie had really saved all of their asses then, and still he'd had that tone, that attempt at humor, i'm really living up to that munson name. ) and then his uncle wayne's paychecks and god damn it, steve knew he messed this up. knew he totally misread something here and while there is nothing in eddie's words or tone that make this out to be awkward, steve's eyes still go down to his own hands.

god, he can be a total piece of shit sometimes. this would be a very specific moment where robin would call him out, smooth over the whole situation with some over the top ribbing of steve and his parents money, how some people didn't grow up king of hawkins, and how steve now owed them all...something. drinks, food, rides, a favor - whatever it was, it would be unnecessarily loud, and probably start up some other argument, and the whole situation would be smoothed over. but she's not here, and steve feels guilt settle like a rock in his stomach, no matter how much eddie is very clearly broadcasting how much he doesn't want the pity. ]

Well, I feel like a total ass. Sorry, man. [ steve waits a beat before he's suddenly moving - setting down his pauldron and pushing to his feet. he mutters a stay here before he's stepping over the pile of shit he's made in the middle of the room and heads over to his bunk, reaching over into the pile of sheep skin and fabric that makes up his perpetually unmade bed. after a moment he retrieves what looks like some kind of parcel, wrapped in white linen and poorly tied with twine - a pathetic show of a wrapping job, really, but very obviously steve's handiwork - and quickly returns back to his spot on the floor next to eddie. another beat, another sigh, and then steve's holding it out for eddie to take. ]

Since you're not having a party or anything; now's as good a time as ever, right? [ he is being so casual about this, and definitely doesn't look at all nervous as he watches eddie take the package. he is so chill, completely and utterly.

it's another moment or so before he remembers that eddie had asked him a question, and steve takes that opportunity to pick back up his pauldron and go back to shining - watching out of the corner of his eyes for eddie's reaction. ]

It was uh- cowboy themed. Which saying right now sounds super lame, but my dad and I used to watch all those cheesy old timey western movies when I was little. You know- from the 60s? John Wayne and all that? And I don't know, my mom went all out. Horses, costumes, even had someone teach us how to lasso. [ steve shrugs, though he words are fairly warm - it's obvious he still thinks fondly about it, no matter how long ago it might have been. ]

[ There’s just something incredibly satisfying when one of his jokes actually lands with Steve. They didn’t used to, not all the time, and while he still doesn’t always earn a laugh, if you ask him, a huff or an eyeroll are basically on the same level. He grins, looking pleased with himself until the conversation switches.

His stomach twists with guilt when Steve labels himself an ass, but Eddie knows better than anyone that you don’t go blaming a guy for who his parents are or how he was brought up. That’s something he’d been saddled with for years, labeled as “another fuckup Munson” to the point that it’s still hard to not let a note of bitterness slip in when he talks about his dad. The man drifted in an out of his life for years, never coming back to stay, and never coming back for Eddie, and half of Hawkins was well aware of why. He doesn’t intend to pin anything similar onto Steve. He isn’t bitter, he doesn’t feel owed, it just sort of is what it is. ]

Nah, man, you’re not an ass. You asked, I spilled. I wasn’t gonna lie to you at this point. Nothing to be sorry about.

[ Besides, he thinks. If I was gunning for sympathy, I could have gone with about ten other stories. Dead mom? House fire? He keeps that one to himself, though, because even as a joke, it seems just a little too tone-deaf.

He blinks as Steve excuses himself, retorts with a quick better hurry before I make my getaway, but he stays put until Steve returns, parcel in hand. It shuts him up for a moment, and he looks surprised. He shouldn’t be; Steve was obviously hinting at some sort of gift when this conversation even began, but it might just be that old behavior at work again—never let your hopes get too high.

At least that way, you’re always surprised. ]

Yeah. Yeah, me too. Wayne and I watched Stagecoach like, fifty times one summer.

[ He replies distantly, vaguely aware of the fact that they’re discussing John Wayne movies, but more focused on the parcel in his hands. He doesn’t seem to know quite how to react for a moment, but then he grins, and as he pulls on the twine, he quips: ]

I’m guessing there’s not a horse in here.

[ eddie tells him it's all fine and while steve knows it is, in whatever weird way things can be fine here, he also knows it's not. eddie's life back in hawkins was hell, and steve was unfortunately one of the people who didn't really make it any better. whether or not eddie blames steve for that doesn't really change matters, and steve knows that he can sometimes just be thick. unaware. but he can always try to be better, and he does want to be better, so. there it is.

you asked, I spilled. and that's kinda what steve has wanted out of their friendship, isn't it? that's what being friends is supposed to be. I wasn't gonna lie to you at this point hits a little different, somehow, and whatever guilt and weight steve might have felt building sort of eases at that too. they are at that point, now, aren't they? and maybe steve shouldn't react so much to that fact, but. it feels good to hear, he supposes. good to know for sure. and he knows that none of this is about sympathy, so...yeah. that joke wouldn't have really landed at all.

what does land, though, is the surprise that washes over eddie's face when steve hands him the parcel. there is a very small part of steve that knows the fact he's at all surprised, or even unsure how to react, is a whole different thing that neither of them really want to get into. but the larger, more excited part, just sees the grin and the surprise and the way eddie's focused on the present instead. steve gives up on trying to pretend he's still working on his armor.

they're talking about westerns, and really steve has a lot to say about stagecoach and his love of those weird old movies, but he decides not to because there is something a bit more important in eddie's lap. ] No. [ he says flatly to the horse, or at least tries to say flatly, but the smile he's wearing sort of ruins that.

when eddie does finally get it open, he's going to find a couple of things have been wrapped up in that fabric. first, a pristine sony walkman and headphones, as well as a collection of about five cassettes. eddie might recognize these specific ones, as they're either the ones that eddie left in steve's car at some point while they drove around the horizon, or they're the ones eddie has out in his own horizon. the only difference is that they are here, in solvunn, and not tucked away in their mind palaces somewhere else. they're all brand new, wrapped in plastic and everything, and while some people might think 'hey, what the fuck, this isn't actually possible' they would be wrong. wanda does have the ability to create just about anything, and steve may or may not have called in a favor.

not that any of that matters - right now, steve's smile hovers somewhere between anxious to know eddie's reaction and really fucking proud of himself. ]

Happy birthday, Eddie.

[ He’s clearly overjoyed with the gift, keeps turning it over in his hands and glancing at it, and it’s bound to become a common sound throughout the commune as he learns to master it. A harmonica is, if anything, way more portable than a guitar. ]

You’re right. Wouldn’t wanna overwhelm them. Thank you, Wanda. Seriously.

[ And then she asks if he’d like to try the quiet way. He’s clearly not quite confident with that type of prayer—the quiet type where his hands have nothing to do and his thoughts have nowhere to go, but he’s willing to give it a go with Wanda here to make him feel a little less awkward about it. ]

Sure, why not? First time for everything.

[ If Eddie ever harbored any bitterness toward Steve (though it was mainly jealousy), it’s long gone. High school is over. He’s not going to be the guy who can’t move on, and any preconceived notions he had about Steve have been disproven a million times over anyway. Now he really only sees the real things, like how Steve genuinely gives more of a shit about everyone else than he does about himself, or the way he beats himself up over things that have no real bearing on now, or the fact that he apparently gives a damn good birthday gift because Eddie pulls the twine and pulls away the fabric and for possibly the third time in his adult life, he doesn’t have a joke.

In fact, he struggles to find the appropriate words to say at all. ]

What the fuck.

[ It’s soft and awed, not angry, and just barely above a whisper. He turns the tapes over in his hands and just stares at the familiar cover art, like he expects them all to crumble to dust right before his eyes. They don’t, so he glances to his left, then to his right, just to make sure he hasn’t lost track of his environment somehow. But this isn’t the Horizon. This is still Solvunn, still the same place they’ve been living for the last year, and somewhere that these things shouldn’t be. ]

What the fuck.

[ Again. His awe hasn’t faded. He runs his thumb over the lettering on the walkman, and something about it tugs at his heart. It’s just something seeing this here, an item so familiar to home despite the fact that he would struggle to afford it himself. It’s just…thoughtful and special and incredibly genuine, and despite Eddie’s inability to form words, he's clearly grateful as he flips the tape door open and shut again just for the hell of it. ]

Dude, I might cry. Jesus…I don’t know what to say. Just…how?

[ it is entirely possible that steve's love of gift giving solely comes from the fact that was all he really knew about his parents. they had the money, but not the time, so obviously the only reinforcement steve was going to get was from the presents they left for him or the gifts sent in exchange for missing important events. as far as steve is concerned, finding the right present, no matter how expensive or difficult to pull together, is about as caring as someone can be. and he knows it's not the same, knows that his experience of family love isn't really the right one, that there's a whole lot more stock in being around than there is in a 'oh hey here's a late present' but...

well, he can't quite rid himself of the high of figuring out a really great gift.

it's why he's sitting here all but bouncing as he waits for eddie to work through the wrappings. why his grin is way too big for anything innocent or casual to be happening. he does try to hold back, but it's a poor example of restraint, one that he fully gives up on when eddie's breathless and soft what the fuck escapes him. the anxiety is officially gone - replaced by something proud, and happy.

maybe it says more about just how much steve loves this that there isn't even a moment of self-doubt at the reaction. maybe it also says something about how confident steve is in the fact he knows eddie will like this.

the repeated what the fuck gives steve enough ammo to roll his eyes, even if his own performance of mock-annoyance is pretty shoddy. ] Oh my god, yes, it's real. And they're not gonna break. Look through 'em. [ steve scoots a little closer, all but pressed up against eddie's side to better reach across eddie and grab one of the tapes out of his hands, turning it over and nodding a bit - still shocked himself, still impressed, still excited. ]

Don't get too excited- it was all Wanda. Honestly, I don't know how either of us didn't think of this before but- [ he's probably way too close, and he should probably chill out, because eddie is processing, eddie is touched, eddie is dealing with the realization he can have this part of home with him in a place that is so far from home it's crazy.

but steve can't wait.

so, rather than just being chill and letting eddie mess with it, steve is reaching over and taking the walkman right out of eddie hands. his movements continue to be quick, practiced in a way that even a year in solvunn can't rip from him, as he opens one of the tape decks and presses it into the walkman itself. he snaps it shut and puts it back in eddie's hands, presses play, and then he's grabbing the headset, slipping it over eddie's ears without giving the other guy a moment to breathe.

steve is watching him, too, as the intro to the song begins. as he hovers a bit too close and holds his breath, as if the sound of it will take away from what steve is trying to accomplish here. like any sound he would make could take away from the fact that it is working. this is working. ]

[ It’s not often that Eddie is lost for words. Off the top of his head, he can only call to mind one other scenario—when he got his first guitar. It had just been a shitty, beat up no-brand acoustic that his dad had undoubtedly paid pennies for, but it had been worth its weight in gold to Eddie. Nothing before or since has given him that same feeling, that tug at his heartstrings that says this is special, this is beyond words. Well—until now, because Eddie is so touched by this gesture that it physically hurts. It twists something in his chest, placing him somewhere between tears and euphoria.

Maybe an emotion that big is silly. He can listen to all these albums and more in the Horizon—and he has. The collection he’s amassed in his domain exceeds anything he owned back home, but there’s always something a little off about listening to music there. It never feels totally real, and the fact that he’s recreating music from his memory leaves him overthinking if the guitars are actually in tune or if the drums are actually on beat, and at the end of the day he can’t bring that music back to Solvunn with him. But he’s holding these tapes in the real world; they’re tangible and concrete and don’t have to be left behind and despite what Steve says, he’s still not wholly convinced that they’re not going to break or disappear.

He can tell that Steve is really proud of it, though, and he should be, because it is a really great gift. Probably the greatest, most thoughtful gift he’s received in his adult life. He opens his mouth to try to form some sort of response, but he doesn’t get the chance. Doesn’t get to breathe at all, really, because it hitches in his throat when Steve presses the walkman into his hands and slips the headset over his ears.

And for a moment, maybe barely even a noticeable moment at all, he fixes Steve with that same stare he did back on the cliffs when they’d touched hands for just a little longer than was necessary. It’s quick, but it’s unreadable and searching like he’s trying to figure something out, until the familiar opening notes of Aces High snap him right out of it.

Huh. ]

Jesus Christ.

[ He laughs in sheer disbelief that he’s listening to Iron Maiden here, in Solvunn, in a home with no electricity that can only be described as medieval, and covers his face with his hands because he is determined not to shed any tears. ]

Jesus—I don’t—thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it.

[ steve gets it, probably more than even he realizes. he isn't able to bring words to why, but every time he's been in his horizon or someone else's, there is always that feeling of something being wrong. or, maybe it's not wrong, not exactly, but it definitely is off. like he's eating off-brand chips or drinking a no-brand soda; it's still technically what he's looking for, but also isn't anywhere near the real thing. he'd been banking on this present really hitting because he'd been assuming eddie would feel the same about his music, since...i mean, really. listening to it in the horizon is based entirely off of what you remember them being, right? so what if you don't remember something fully? steve had done his best to combat this, going around to other horizons to collect whatever anyone else could remember about the albums and songs, and.

well, he certainly hopes they're all correct. eddie would probably be the only person to know for sure. but steve's still got some time before eddie goes into it that intensely. he's safe, at least for a little bit.

which is why he feels comfortable enough, almost giddy enough, that when eddie turns and fixes him with that unreadable stare that steve does recognize from only a couple of months prior, steve simply smiles back at him - bright and excited and wholly unaffected by just how close they really are. because steve won't pull back just yet, is waiting for the music to really set in.

and then it does, and steve both gets to ear the muffled sound of it from the headphones but also sees the second it happens to eddie, too. how he's pulled out of his thoughts and into the music and aha. that's it. steve, feeling prouder of himself than he has in a long time, decides to lean back so he's not still crowding eddie in that moment. actually laughs a bit to himself, too. ]

Don't worry about it. I'm just glad it all works. I- [ a beat, and then a dawning realization. ] Well, I don't actually know if it has batteries and what you're gonna have to do about that, but uh. Ask Wanda, I guess? If it stops working.

[first time for everything is one way to go about it. wanda sure does appreciate how open and willing eddie is, to try out these things, even if they’re all brand new for him.]

—have you ever tried meditating?

[she asks, by way of gauging how much eddie does feel comfortable with the idea of all this.]

Not officially. But you don’t listen to Revolution 9 backwards on illicit substances and not get some sort of awakening from it.

[ It’s ridiculous, but it’s true! You don’t experience something like that without slipping into some form of meditation—just ask the Beatles themselves. But he grins and concedes: ]

Nah, I haven’t, but I’m guessing it’s not too late to learn.

Dude, I’m gonna ask for so many batteries she’s gonna get sick of me. Maybe I’ll end up having to power it with a goat on a wheel or something. Jesus.

[ He groans theatrically and drags his hands down his face just enough to peer through his fingers.

Eddie doesn’t own much here in the way of luxuries. A handful of cheap rings and a couple crudely made guitars, but the walkman has clearly taken immediate precedence as the most important item he owns. The fact that he plans to be asking for batteries on a regular basis is telling: he’s going to be listening to this thing practically every waking moment of his life here in Solvunn. ]

Thank you. Seriously, dude.

[ He traces the letters on the walkman with a finger, dipping into a momentary silence as he lets the familiar tune wash over him, grateful to have one of the most important things to him back in his life in a much more familiar form. Then his gaze snaps up and he pulls one side of the headphones away from his ear. ]

Hey. You, uh…you ever listened to Iron Maiden?

[ Sure, he not-so covertly left some tapes in Steve’s car, but he aware that such a blatant hint can come across as more annoying than subtle, and a particularly stubborn person might ignore those tapes entirely. It’s not a gotcha moment; he’s genuinely curious. ]

['revolution 9' she gets is a song—artist unfamiliar to her—but listening to it 'backwards' is completely and unknown reference to her. americans and their ways...

maybe it just sounds better?]

You know, half the time I'm not sure I understand what you young [older?] people say. [but maybe that doesn't matter so much, especially when she's already embraced the fact that, as a non-american, there will always be things she will never quite get at a culture level.] But, you're right—it's not too late to learn.

You just have to sit in silence for a while and try to clear your mind. How's that sound?

You gonna figure out how to power this with a goat wheel? Good fucking luck.

[ but the whole concept of it has steve laughing, in equal parts at the groan from eddie and also just the mental image of it all. it's really ridiculous, somehow more than usual, even if there is a part of him that does realize it is still possible.

that's when eddie stills - or rather, becomes more serious. thank you he says, and steve feels a kind of settling in his own chest. ]

Happy Birthday, Munson. [ steve says with the slightest bump to eddie's shoulders, still smiling, still happy, still feeling good. eddie's transfixed on the walkman itself, and steve finds himself pretty content to just watch eddie's fingers trail over it, to watch him settle into listening to whatever cassette he decided on. part of steve expects it to end there - with the two of them falling back into a comfortable silence they've grown used to sharing over the year and change they've spent living together, and that to be that.

which is why when eddie's gaze snaps up, steve is forced to reckon with the fact he'd just sorta been. staring. his eyes widen a bit in shock at the movement, and it takes him another second to register the question. ]

Uh. [ which can be understood to mean: not that he's aware of. ] Was that one you left in the BMW? [ which is to say, he may have listened to it without realizing what it was. still, steve glances at the headphones and then back to eddie, unable to help the small spark in his eyes and the slight smile he might have. ]

Why, you wanna share your headphones? Cause I thought you might've wanted some alone time with your tapes.

[ Almost everything is a song or a song reference with Eddie. If he doesn’t slip in an allusion to music at least once in any conversation, he might literally implode. Nothing about Revolution 9 sounded better played in reverse—nothing about it sounds particularly good played properly, but it was the principle of the thing. ]

You know, I’m petty sure I’m technically older than you.

[ In a huge technicality. ]

Sounds terrible.

[ He pretends to look serious, but it’s tough to keep the jester’s smile off his face. He’s joking, at least in part. He may prefer his way of doing things, but he’s perfectly willing to attempt this as well. ]

I'm kidding. Sounds...quiet.

Yeah, I mean, you know the whole thing with a hamster on a wheel powering a lamp? Think that, but with goats. Ten times the size, ten times more effective. But, uh…Thanks, Harrington. A lot.

[ There’s a softness in his voice that shows that he’s being genuine—on that last statement, at least. The goat wheel battery may never happen, but Eddie does have every intention of listening to these tapes until they totally wear out. But as the conversation moves on to Eddie and his tapes and his offer to let Steve listen to a bit of Iron Maiden, and he rolls his eyes so hard they just might pop out of his skull if he’s not careful. It’s clearly more act than genuine annoyance. ]

It’s called generosity, dude. I’d say you should try it out, but. Well. You already outdid yourself there.

[ He is quite literally never going to get over it. The sheer amount of kindness and thought that went into this gift is staggering. ]

Here. Listen. Change your entire life in four minutes and thirteen seconds?

[ It’s an offer more than anything. No, he can’t guarantee that’s what’s going to happen. It’s how he felt the first time he really listened to music, but he doesn’t expect the same from anyone else. In the end, he just wants Steve to be a part of this too. Sure, Steve technically created this moment, but his gift has made him genuinely happy. It’s a level of happiness he honestly doesn’t totally know what to do with, and he wants to share a crumb of it.

He starts to put the headphones over Steve’s ears, just like he did with him, but he pulls back abruptly. ]

You, uh, gonna completely decimate me if I ruin the hair, or…?

[ He’s only half joking. Sorry, Steve, but your hair is genuinely the stuff of legends in Hawkins. It’s unfair that it still looks as good as it does here. ]

I mean I know what you're talking about, yeah, but can you actually get it to work? Like- the kids might've, but last I checked you failed physics just like I did.

[ the worst part is that steve doesn't even know if physics is the right class. he just knows it has to do with science, and he's pretty sure he remembers dustin talking about a third grade science fair where he did this exact thing, but even if steve was given pretty explicit instructions and the right materials, he's still not confident he'd be able to pull it off.

and he's pretty sure eddie's in his same boat there. because yeah, eddie's smart in his own way, but he also failed school enough to keep him in school, and steve is pretty sure eddie isn't smart in the same way henderson, or sinclair, or even wheeler are. it's...well, it's nice in its own weird way, that eddie has never really made him ever feel like this stupidest person in the room, which steve has to admit he got pretty used to being for a while there.

the softness in eddie's voice, in the repeated thanks, is noted. steve knows that the present means as much to eddie as he thought it would, but instead of continuing to push it off with more it's fine or even you're welcome, steve just kind of smiles back at him, his expression just as soft as eddie's voice. it's...yeah. it's nice. it feels good. no matter what else might happen in the next few weeks or months or whatever, steve's pretty sure he's gonna be able to hold onto this feeling and be pretty okay with it.

and then they've moved on, talking about iron maiden and eddie's music, and steve just sort of laughs. eddie's love of music is one thing that steve figured out pretty early, and while steve has always thought himself a pretty okay music lover, he very soon realized he and eddie weren't even in the same group. nothing comparable, nothing even close. and a lot of the time, steve gives eddie a hard time just because it's one of the few things that makes them both feel...well, normal isn't the right word. but at home. steve realized eddie's music was never going to be his thing, not like it is for eddie, but he can entertain him every now and then. ]

Yeah yeah, alright. Let's try it. [ steve shifts, gets a little more settled up next to eddie, the universal movements associated with getting ready to listen to someone else's music. it's only when eddie pulls back that steve pauses, unsure if something is wrong, and then-]

Oh my god, you're so dramatic. [ steve huffs, exasperated, as he reached out and grabs eddie's hands - and therefore the headphones in his hands, and sets them over his own ears. he doesn't quite realize he's held onto eddie's hands, and in essence pulled him a bit closer, until they're both sorta just looking at each other.

( if steve's stomach flips briefly, he's just gonna straight up ignore it. )

it's a second, and then another, before steve breaks out into a smile, a laugh, and finally loosens his hold of eddie's hands. ]

Let see about this life changing.

Hey, you don’t know I failed physics.

[ It’s pretty obvious he did, though. You don’t repeat senior year twice without your grades being in the gutter, and Eddie’s grades were so far in the gutter, they were practically the stuff of legends.

He struggled in school. A lot. In fact, there might have been a point where he stopped trying entirely and continued attending out of sheer spite—and love for Hellfire. It was only the looming threat of the dreaded GED exam that had him finally choose to step up his game a bit in that last year. Either way, they can’t all be brainiac computer geniuses like Henderson and Co., and Eddie doesn’t think himself an unintelligent person. He doesn’t think Steve is either, though he has witnessed first hand the way his comments tended to get brushed off back home. Eddie had thought his “Vecna is a vampire” suggestion had some serious backing to it, even if no one else did.]

Alright, I failed physics a couple times, but that’s not the point.

[ He rolls his eyes, but it’s all in good humor, and no, he doesn’t confirm if he can make the goat wheel battery work or not, because he’s…mostly sure he’s joking? The idea sits in the back of his mind as a vague and distant possibility, though; something to consider if Wanda’s magic somehow doesn’t do the trick. He really does love the gift that much.

But he makes his hair joke, and the outcome is…a little unexpected. Pulled in a little closer via the headphones, Steve’s hands warm on his—and they stay there. For one second, two seconds—long enough for Eddie to try to say something. A quip or a question, either way, he doesn’t get a chance, because the way his heart thumps in his chest is somehow louder and more uncomfortable than usual and makes it very hard to come up with witty response. Huh..

In the end, a clearing of his throat is his only real acknowledgement of the moment before carrying right along, because why should they ever deem to recognize any of these weird little moments they keep having? It’s nothing, surely. Nothing at all. So he shrugs it off, lets it go, lets his gaze drop back to the walkman and fast-forwards the tape a bit to the next song, feeling like he might cry from the whirring sound alone. It really is the little things you end up missing from home. ]

Alright, so. This is 2 Minutes to Midnight, and, uh…it’s kind of a masterpiece.

[ And maybe it’s not life-changing for the ordinary person, but it is quintessentially Eddie. Guitar-driven, dark yet oddly poignant lyrics, and loud enough that he can still tap his fingers in time to it against his knee despite being nowhere near the headphones.

He’s watching though, searching to be certain Steve doesn’t totally hate it. He thinks he wouldn’t be offended if he disliked it. After all, he’s more than aware that people humor him, either because they’re afraid he’s going to get charged up about it, or just because they want to be nice. But if Steve totally, visibly hated it? Well…it shouldn’t matter to him, but Eddie’s love of music runs bone deep. To him, it’s kind of more than sharing a favorite song with a friend. It’s like sharing a little piece of who you are. ]

What do you think? Feeling like a whole new man yet?

[ the you don't know i failed physics gets the most blank, flat look steve can pull off in that moment. in one part because he absolutely knows that eddie failed physics (he doesn't, he's just guessing), and in another part because that-

well, that isn't the point. and maybe it should be a little weird that both he and eddie have almost the exact same responses to each other there, but steve doesn't know if he wants to dwell on that too much. because the truth in this little exchange is that steve gets it - eddie's infamous repeating of grades may have been one of the top points of gossip around hawkins, but that's only because he was always going to draw attention. steve didn't do much better in school, scraping by with barely enough to pass most - if not all - of his classes.

( and no, he does not want to think too hard about how he knows there were tests he failed. exams and projects he bombed. how the math, even knowing how bad at that he was, didn't add up.

the fact he graduated at all is a favor, some dark, deep part of him is absolutely sure of that. not that it really matters anymore. )

anyway, it doesn't matter. henderson and co are stupid smart and steve knows they're the type that will go off to change the world. meanwhile, he and eddie are talking about goat-powered batteries and how some part of this will make it work. later. because the batteries work right now, and steve has the headphones over his ears, and eddie-

eddie's eyes are very brown, and pretty big too. steve stares at them for a second longer than he has any reason to, and is only really pulled away from it by the sound of eddie's throat clearing. right, yes, music - eddie lets go and so does steve. even if in that following moment steve doesn't really know what to do with his hands, so they end up falling into his lap as eddie fast forwards through to the next song. and he is going to take this seriously, because he knows music - this music in particular - means a lot to eddie. so steve settles, lets out a breath and closes his eyes; lets the music begin.

luckily for steve, and unluckily for eddie, steve remains focused through...well, the whole course of the song. his head starts to bob along at some point, finding the rhythm something he could get behind. it's not his music, it's not anything he would pick out for himself, but it is pretty much exactly something he would imagine eddie listening to. eddie learning how to play. and because of that, somehow, steve feels himself getting even more into it - even as the song continues on.

and it isn't until the end, when the song comes to its abrupt finale, that he cracks open an eye to see eddie still watching him and seeming almost...nervous? ]

It sounds like you. [ he says with a small smile as he reaches up and pulls the headphones from his ears. he hands them over. ] Like- what I'd expect you to listen to. They're good. I can see why you like them.

Hell yeah it does.

[ Eddie is positively beaming as he takes the headphones back. Maybe Steve is telling him what he wants to hear, but it doesn’t matter, because it but it doesn’t seem like he's faking it. Steve listened to the entire song and didn’t even use the guitar interlude as an excuse to duck out, and that means something to Eddie. It's small, but it's important and Eddie isn't going to forget it.

He’s made music, this music especially, an enormous part of his personality. Even here, far from Indiana, the remnants of its influence are apparent. He still wears his hair long, still wears rings and black, and he’s paid more than one visit to Nocwich to add to his tattoo collection. The connection between him and metal is there and it’s always going to be there, but most people have viewed it as a negative. And to hear it sounds like you in a positive way? Kind of nice. Really nice, actually. ]

You know…

[ He tilts his head, turning that magnificent Walkman over in his hands once more, and he doesn’t know what compels him or what makes him connect this moment to another, but Eddie who seems to share so little about himself that isn’t D&D or his encyclopedic knowledge on music unless his death is involved, chooses to willingly disclose something about himself: ]

I, uh…I nearly had a record deal once. Or a chance at one. Senior year—first senior year—this big shot record producer out in California liked our demo and we were supposed to audition for him. Kind of fell through. Annnd I don’t know why I just told you that.

[ It’s not that it’s embarrassing, because it really isn’t. After all, he didn’t fail. He didn’t even get the chance. It’s disappointing it fell through so royally, sure, and maybe his luck would have improved if he were in California, but it’s just another one of those things he holds close to his chest. It just doesn’t seem worth mentioning when it never went anywhere. But Steve is sort of in his world now. He listened to the music, got something out of it, and now he has the key. ]

Sorry, man, Motormouth Munson. Just can’t stop sometimes.

[ eddie is beaming, and steve finds himself a bit caught up in it. it's not the first time either, just like it isn't the first time steve suddenly gets why dustin had been so obsessed with eddie. why all the kids had been drawn to eddie so quickly, so intensely. he may not fully understand what it is he's done, or said, to get this kind of reaction - but he's not going to question it too much. eddie likes music, eddie likes this kind of music, and whether or not it's steve's preference doesn't matter nearly as much.

( lord knows he's watched plenty of movies he doesn't actually care about for robin. it's not that hard to listen to a cassette. )

you know eddie starts, and steve's blinking back to the present. to the realization he'd definitely just been staring. smooth, harrington. he blinks, and listens, and eddie mentions something about a record deal and California and steve's brain stutters to a stop somewhere in the middle of it all. ]

Wait- seriously? Holy shit, Munson. [ there's not enough time for steve to realize that this is one of those rare moments where eddie is actually revealing something about himself, because he's a bit too caught up on the facts of it all. the mental image of eddie in california, a part of a famous band, escaping hawkins once and for all...

steve's thoughts stutter to a stop right about there, knowing what he knows, but he doesn't want to bring the mood down. doesn't want to bring up what they both know but don't like talking about. so instead, steve laughs, shakes his head. ] That's sick. Sucks that it didn't go through, but damn.

[ and then steve snorts, shifting away from where he'd moved to sit right up against eddie's side back to where his armor is...still strewn around the floor. he wants eddie to have time to listen to his music, after all, and he's only halfway through his cleaning routine. ]

Dude, don't apologize. You've met Robin- that's a motormouth. You're not even close.

Dude, you think I’d make that shit up?

[ Sure, maybe it didn’t work out. Hell, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out even if he had made it to California, but he can still be proud of himself for brushing hands with fame, however brief it was. Stuff like that doesn’t usually happen for anyone, let alone guys like him. ]

Pretty fun story, though, actually. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.

[ And by that he means it wasn’t particularly fun at all, but he can look back on it without too much bitterness now. He’s always going to wonder what might have changed if he had gotten out of Hawkins, where he’d be now, but it does no good to dwell on it. That’s not really his life anymore, and to be frankly honest, there’s not much he’d change about the past year in Abraxas.

Sure, the fact that there still seems to be the threat of looming war that no one wants to mention isn’t great. Oh, and Steve not being kidnapped for over a month would have been preferable, and it would be nice to know if Robin was safe after her brief appearance in the world, but it’s…sort of nice here. Solvunn has taken on a certain level of homeyness, though Eddie’s not so sure he would feel the same if Steve weren’t here with him.

It’s odd, though, this weird turn their friendship has taken, because it is not lost on Eddie hat it’s become common for Steve holds his gaze just a little longer than what seems socially appropriate, and it’s not lost on Eddie that it makes his stomach flip, or that this gift is more precious to him than gold, and he really doesn’t know what to do with any of that information.

Just ignore it for now, probably, and hope whatever it is buffs itself out.]

But for now—I’ve got a date with Iron Maiden. You understand, I’m sure.

[ He beams and slips the headphones back over his ears, beaming as the song transitions into a percussion-powered instrumental. ]

Thanks again, dude.

[ And without being asked, he reaches once more for a piece of armor to clean. Steve never asked, but he never told him to stop either, and turning it into a two person job will get it done faster. For now, it’s the very least he can do. ]

Honestly?

[ steve makes a face that says actually, yeah, part of him does believe that eddie could make that shit up. he's a freaking crazy storyteller, he could make up anything and chances are steve would believe him.

but it's mostly a joke. partially a joke. steve believes that eddie could make that up, but he doesn't think he has. there's something a little too vulnerable, a little too real, about the way he shares it. and knowing eddie, knowing him like he does now, it's not so crazy of a story. he could absolutely see eddie as one of those people who made it, who got found and got out and did it.

except that he didn't - both of them know that - so steve lets the conversation slide away. ] I'll hold you to it. [ about hearing the story, at least. he does kind of want to know - how someone heard about a metal band from hawkins indiana - but he wonders if that's pushing too much. if they're in a place where eddie can talk about what almost happened. steve knows that they're pretty far removed from whatever that life might have been, but it can't feel great. it can't be fun.

god, he wished he know what he was doing. wished he was better at...anything. this. he also wished he knew what this was. because some part of him knows that calling it friendship isn't quite right, even if they've officially been friends for long enough now that it's something. somewhere between the year of living together, the nightmares and events that they've survived, the fact solvunn still feels weird and still feels foreign but also feels a lot like home, too.

( this feels like home. )

eddie makes some comment about having a date with iron maiden and steve just rolls his eyes, his head lolling back for the dramatics of it, even if that was kind of the whole point. ] Yeah, yeah. [ and then steve is refocusing on his armor, picking up the towel and shifting over back to where he'd been sitting earlier.

the thanks again gets steve's attention for just a moment - a glance, a smile, a nod. ] Any time. [ and then steve's back on his armor, on the routine. he catches eddie's hand out of the corner of his eye, and without thinking twice he hands over one of the smaller pieces, letting the both of them fall into relative, comfortable silence for the rest of the evening. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Lines form on my face and hands

steve; closed & backdated to late october

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shrines!

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you wanna call this wrapped/wrap it up? to make room for NEW THREADS IN A NEW YEAR...

ties this off with a bow