Pre Season 4 Steddie - Tumblr Posts

Moonlight - Part 3

Part 1 part 2

Word count: 1.2k

To Eddie's surprise, there's a note on his locker. He plucks it off and almost crumbles it up, but the handwriting looks familiar.

"Meet me behind the gym after school. - H."

H? For Harrington? Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but why would it be wishful if they avoid each other constantly? It's just after the full moon, Steve still seems rather weak, as he always does afterwards. He's pretty sure nobody goes behind the gym, but it's only because he's never been whisked away to do horny teenager things back there like many other students in this hellhole of a school.

The dirt and pebbles crunch under Eddie's feet as he peeks around the brick wall to see none other than Steve Harrington waiting very anxiously there. Is he waiting for a girl? Maybe Nancy Wheeler? Though Eddie is pretty sure things are rocky between them right now. He slips into the small corridor-like area between the two walls and stands just across from Steve.

"You asked me to come here? I don't have my lunchbox with me today, you'll have to either wait until tomorrow or come to my place-" Eddie starts, but Steve cuts him off.

"No, I don't want weed or anything. I just want to, uh... I just wanted to say thanks. For sticking with me for the past two... nights. I've been doing this for years and nobody's really stuck around to help me out like you did." Steve says quickly, looking around to make sure nobody is listening in on their conversation. The past two nights. The past two full moons. Steve holds out a small wad of cash, clearly expecting Eddie to take it without question.

"I didn't know what you like." Steve says sheepishly as his shoulders shrug. "I would've gotten you a proper gift, but now that just seems weird. So... money" He adds, his tone simple but clearly nervous for some reason. Eddie hesitates. What's the catch? Does he owe Steve after this? Is this a test? Steve moves his hand slightly, raising his eyebrows as if to say "Are you gonna take it or not?". On one hand, money. And on the other hand, it's from Steve.. But money is for certain good, Steve is still a maybe. He reaches out with a shaking hand, hoping Steve won't change his mind at the last second for whatever reason.

"Thanks?" Eddie says, more of a question than an actual statement of gratitude, snatching the wad of cash up before Steve can even blink. Steve nods, running a hand through his hair and taking tiny steps forward so he scoots down the wall a little more. Eddie mirrors him. They stand in silence for a few moments more before Eddie speaks up with probably the stupidest thing he has ever said.

"Why don't you have anyone else with you? Surely your parents know their own kid turns into a giant puppy almost every month." He comments, but Steve immediately goes quiet, even though he was quiet before. This is a different quiet. This is a quiet Eddie knows all too well, the quiet that's either the calm after the storm or the buildup to the storm.

"They don't know." Steve says simply, now seemingly completely invested in the gravel under their feet. Eddie thinks he genuinely hates how much Steve looks like a puppy right now, but it's a little fitting.

"They don't? You've been doing this for how long now, and they've just been at home while you're turning into an overgrown dog?" Eddie says, hardly even a question. Of course he's mad at Steve's parents, he just doesn't know why.

No.. he does.

But he refuses to catch feelings for Harrington. Refuses. It goes against his whole Munson doctrine. Basically, jocks are bad, jocks will always be bad. All of Steve's friends saw Eddie, and decided that he was the perfect target. They've backed off somewhat since he started selling though, nobody really messes with their dealer.

"They just don't." Steve bites, his arms crossed over his chest in a defensive position. The hell is with his tone, wasn't he just thanking Eddie? Also, how long has Steve been doing this? The scar on his shoulder that Eddie managed to see in the locker room looked really old, but Eddie doesn't know enough about scarring to know just how long it's been there. He always wondered about that, it looked like he'd been mauled by something. And he was.

"Fine, fine. Fine. Did.. did it hurt?" Eddie then asks softly, and Steve shrugs, scratching his neck with blunt nails right above the scar. "Don't really remember. It happened when I was like.. seven." He says, snarky tone fading slightly, but definitely not fully. Eddie feels that annoyance burning behind his eyes and in the back fo his throat once more.

"Seven? Are you serious!? And your parents just don't know!?" He demands, throwing his arms in the air. Parents should know these things, especially if their seven year old son got mauled by a werewolf. There had to be blood, it had to hurt- what the actual fuck!? Steve runs a hand through his hair, huffing.

"Just... stop. Seriously. You're about to say something else, just-... just stop, dude. It doesn't matter." Steve says, and Eddie bites his tongue. He really needs this money, his uncle needs this money. And it's just enough to cover rent.

"Fine. Fine, I'll shut up. Just, can I ask what happened? Like, how it happened?" He asks the boy in front of him. Steve sighs for what seems like the hundredth time, shrugging.

"I was just playing outside, I guess. Sun set and I saw the guy- thought it was a big dog and learned my lesson." Steve says. He hesitates before finishing the rest of the story. "My parents paid doctors to say I got onto a car crash on my records. Don't know how the hell it worked but it did."

Eddie just simply nods, his lips parted as he listens to Steve explain all of this. Steve might be a jock, but his parents are now among the list of people he hates, right above Steve himself. Although Eddie might not know it, but Steve is slowly teetering off that list- maybe he hasn't actually been on it for a little while now.

One day Eddie will admit it to himself.

Someone calls out to Steve, snapping them both out of whatever state of dissociation they were in. "See you around." Steve says simply, walking away before Eddie can say a word.

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Eddie is once more alone. The trailer is dark, he has the snacks all to himself, and he gets to watch whatever he wants. This is what happens every time Wayne goes to work, there's always a horror movie not rewinded and a can of Spaghetti-O's missing by morning. This is the way he likes it, and yet someone knocking at the door is interrupting his alone time.

"Whaaaaat?" He groans out as he begrudgingly shuffles to the door, blanket still around his shoulders. The door swings open only for him to see none other than Nancy Wheeler at his door. The hell is she doing here?

"I'm worried about Steve, and I saw you talking to him." She says firmly, almost accusingly. She doesn't think Eddie did something to him, did she? Eddie himself knows his reputation, how he looks and how he acts towards people like Steve, but he feels his blood run cold and his face go numb, and not because of the nighttime breeze now blowing even harder into the trailer.

"What's wrong with Steve?" He can't help but ask.

Short and sweet, but still longer than the rest. I'm gonna try to make each chapter longer, because I'm very used to writing short things under 1k words :)

Tag list!! (Woah I have one of those now): @manda-panda-monium @anaibis @irregular-child @gregre369 @cartercaptainofthemoon

Moonlight – part 5

Word count: 1.4k

Part 4 part 3 part 2 part 1

Angst angst angst angst

(Next chapter will be a Steve chapter!!!!)

Nothing happened of course. He just let Steve hang out at his place until he cooled down and Eddie sent him off back to Nancy. Back to Nancy. He can't help but feel a bitter hatred towards the girl despite her doing absolutely nothing to him. He knows it's just jealousy though, jealousy about a boy he'll never in a million years get.

Why does he keep doing this to himself? Wanting what he can't have. Fame, money, boys, a life in general.

Because he's Eddie Munson. The world has it out for him.

He stabs his pencil through the paper of his sketchbook, his blood going cold as he realizes he shouldn't have done that. The dragon on the page now has a gaping hole in it's chest, and while he could try to fix it, he doesn't want to fix things right now. Fixing needs effort, and he doesn't have that in him at the moment, not while he's sitting on his bed crying over a boy.

"Eddie Munson, crying over a jock. What a twist, huh?" He comments bitterly to the ratty Garfield plush in front of him, slumped over from the lack of stuffing in one side, droopy eyes scratched to practically nothing. He still keeps it though, because he loves it.

Some things don't need to be fixed. They're lovable the way they are.

And yet nobody seems to love Eddie. Sure, his mom loved him, but that was when he was a kid, and he can't help but wonder if she would still love him if she was around today. Wayne too, but that's different, hard to see. He wants a different love, he wants Steve's love. He'll get rid of it soon. This stupid, horrible crush on a boy. A boy who's both a jock and a werewolf. God, what has his life become?

It's been a week since he stopped Steve from spraypainting all over town, and he can't help but realize.. he missed the full moon. Steve would've already turned back by now, all alone. It's fine. It's not like Steve needs him, and Eddie was wanting to distance himself from Steve. This is good for them both.

Yet guilt eats away at him, squeezing and twisting at his insides, making his lungs close up and his throat catch. He can hardly breathe, and it hurts. He feels like he should apologize, but he can't, it's not even necessary. Steve never needed Eddie there, not when he's been transforming all by himself for years and years already by the time Eddie found him.

He can't go to school. He can't even risk the chance of seeing Steve, can't even risk the chance of seeing this damn boy. It hurts. It's horrible, it's.. Eddie gets up, going out to the small kitchen as if his body is on autopilot. He opens the fridge and closes it a couple times, his brain empty from the lack of accomplishment of grabbing something from the barren shelves. He doesn't know what to do with himself. It's a feeling not unknown to him, but it's never been at the hands of a boy who looks both like a God and Just Some Dude. What is wrong with him? He's Eddie Munson, of all people he should be immune to Harrington's charms.

But he just isn't.

Nothing is working, either. Not food, not drawing, not his music, not D&D– hell, he even tried going on a walk. Nothing. Is. Working. He tried to lose himself in his interests, tried to let them consume him completely like they do when he doesn't want them to, but not even those want him now. His guitar isn't calling to him, neither are his books or the figurines that still need to be painted.

Eddie needs to talk to this boy. Even once. He doesn't care if he'll be rejected, he truly doesn't, he just.. needs to get this feeling out. Shoes on his feet, keys in his hand, he stills. He didn't even open the door yet.

He can't do this. He should be confident, but no, he's shaking like a leaf, his stomach churning. He doesn't even take his shoes off as he walks back to his room, slowly slipping into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He doesnt like this feeling. He doesn't like when the only things beckoning him closer are the things that will hurt him most. How when he thought Steve was in danger he was so ready to leave, yet now he can't even open the front door?

There's something wrong with him. Always has been, always will be. If he's not killed or doesn't do it himself before he graduates he'll be driven out of this hellhole of a town, either going to jail and reuniting with his no-good dad or being completely alone for the rest of his life. People would talk and wonder. They'd discuss and gossip about Mr. Munson, the shut-in neighbor with a cat who nobody sees outside unless he's working or on his porch, the man who doesn't speak, the man who stays inside when he doesn't have errands, the man who drinks himself to bed every day. They'd wonder what happened to get him like that– if he had a wife who passed away or something.

He closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face, attempting to swallow down the lump in his throat at the thought. He doesn't want that but it seems like the only future for him. The Garfield plush on his pillow that he found comfort in since he was a child now seems like it's mocking him, it's lazy eyed stare and wide sleepy smile staring him down.

That's when he hears the tapping on his window. There was knocking at his door earlier but he didn't bother to answer, knowing that if it was his uncle he wouldn't be knocking and would just come inside, not really caring about visitors.

He doesn't get out of bed, but he hears the window slide open, harsh sunlight burning his eyes as someone tumbles into his room, shoe covered feet landing on Eddie's carpeted floors.

And his voice.

"Eddie? What's going on? You weren't there.." Steve says quietly, hesitantly walking over to Eddie's bedside as if he was sick or something. He must look pathetic, buried under a thin blanket, clutching a stuffed animal, with his hair a mess and his eyes all puffy and red.

"You weren't there." Steve repeats. "I waited for you. All night. I don't even know what happened– I just know I woke up and I... I was covered in blood. I don't know what or who's blood it was– I'm freaking the fuck out!" He says, pacing Eddie's room. The boy jolts up, rubbing his eyes and throwing the blanket off. That's when he finally gets a good look at Steve. The tired eyes, his uncharacteristically sunken and pale skin, dried blood on his hands as if all he could do was try and wipe it off his skin with what he could find and shove some clothes on before going straight to Eddie.

"Shit shit shit, shit, shit! Okay.. okay, blood. You didn't kill someone, you couldn't have. You're not that kinda... person.. werewolf.. thing." Eddie says breathlessly, getting up out of bed and realizing that half of this blood is Steve's. The way it seeps through his blue sweater, creating a dark stain that just keeps spreading.

"I don't know what happened." Steve admits upon realizing what Eddie is looking at, lifting up his sweater to show a gaping hole in his abdomen, next to that patch of hair Eddie has dreamed about again and again.

"Holy shit.. Steve, you got shot*" He says in shock, but Steve doesn't even look surprised. He simply shoves his fingers into the wound and pulls out a bullet, wiping his hand on his sweater. "I'll be fine. It's not even close to the first time, I know how to handle it. You got a first aid kit or anything?"

Eddie blinks a few times.. sure, Steve is a werewolf, he's strong, he doesn't feel as much pain as a normal person. But he just pulled a bullet out of his flesh and asked Eddie if he had gauze with the normalcy of asking if it's cold out today, not to mention he didn't even notice the blood was his own.

Now all he has to do is keep it together when Steve pulls off his shirt to patch himself up.

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