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The idea starts with Dustin.
Of course it does.
He shows up at Eddie’s trailer one Saturday afternoon, armed with a binder full of dice math and a grin that could power Hawkins.
“You said you wanted to get more people into D&D, right? Well, I found us a place, the community center’s letting us use the rec room twice a week. We can make it a club! We can bring back Hellfire.”
Eddie blinks at him, halfway through tuning his guitar. “We?”
“Yeah, we. I already talked to Steve about it.”
Eddie’s hand freezes on the strings. “You did what?”
“Relax,” Dustin says, rolling his eyes. “He’s gonna help with rides and snacks. You handle the campaign. He’s basically our… logistics guy.”
Eddie groans, tipping his head back. “Oh, great. King Steve, Logistics Manager. Perfect.”
But when Steve shows up the next week with a grocery bag full of Capri Suns, various bags of chips and a grin that says this will be fun, Eddie finds it hard to be mad about the situation.
The first session was a total chaos. But in a good way.
A dozen kids crammed around two folding tables, dice clattering, someone crying because their elf got eaten by a gelatinous cube.
Eddie’s in his element, loud, theatrical, spinning worlds out of nothing, dramatic hand gestures.
Steve’s the opposite, calm, patient, floating between tables refilling chip bowls, tying someone’s shoe, explaining that no, you can’t actually stab your party member for fun.
Dustin, perched between the two, watches them with the smug satisfaction of a man who knows he’s started something good.
By the third week, the routine is set.
Eddie stays up late drafting new quests.
Steve spends his mornings coupon-cutting for snack runs.
They even started to go ride together to the community center. It was easier, they had said.
Now they had this routine where they rode with the windows down, Steve’s hand tapping the steering wheel to whatever cassette Eddie’s shoved in.
The kids have already dubbed it the best club in town. Word’s spreading.
Eddie likes to think it’s because of his storytelling, his dragons, his voices, his flair for the dramatic.
Steve insists it’s the pizza rolls.
It’s probably both.
One night, Dustin’s watching them pack up after the session, Steve wiping down tables, Eddie counting dice into little baggies. The rest of the kids are gone.
He grins. “You two are, like, the perfect parental unit.”
Eddie squints. “What?”
“You heard me,” Dustin says, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “You’re a Dad, you run the show, make the rules, yell when people don’t listen. And Steve’s literally Mom. He brings snacks, keeps everyone alive, gives rides home. It’s basically canon now.”
Steve freezes mid-wipe, staring at Dustin with wide eyes.
Eddie blinks once, twice, then bursts out laughing.
“Oh, no. No way. No way.” He points at Steve. “He’s not Mom,” then points at him, “and I’m definitely not Dad.”
Dustin just smirks. “Nah, you definitely are. But I have to say, you’re the strict one.” He said pointing to Steve.
Steve looks like he’s trying not to smile. “Strict? Well, someone here has to make sure everyone leaves with all their body parts attached and no injuries.”
“Yeah,” Dustin says, grabbing his bike helmet, “Mom stuff.” He shouted the last part as he made his way to the door.
And just like that he’s out the door before either of them can respond.
Eddie’s laughter fades into something softer. He catches Steve’s eye and shrugs.
“Well, you do make a mean snack spread, Harrington.”
Steve groans. “Don’t start.”
They both finished up cleaning with big smiles on their lips. But of course, they wouldn´t admit they liked that parental dynamic.
But the next time one of the kids says, Thanks, Mom! when Steve hands out cookies, he doesn’t correct them.
And Eddie doesn’t tease him for it.
That much.
As the weeks pass the club grows. And the world they created there started to get cozier.
Eddie loves the sound of Steve’s laugh cutting through the din of dice rolls.
Steve loves the way Eddie’s eyes light up when he’s deep in character, completely unguarded. Just being himself.
Sometimes after the kids leave, they sit on the floor together, Steve drinking a Coke, Eddie cross-legged with his notebook open, still in storytelling mode.
It’s easy. Too easy.
And that’s what makes it dangerous.
But they have fallen to that routine. Late night talks, joined rides, cleaning duties.
They have started to enjoy each other company.
Maybe even enjoying it too much.
One rainy Thursday, only half the group shows.
They end early, and everyone leaves in a hurry, trying to get away from the rain. Except Dustin, of course, he’s sitting on the table, swinging his legs, talking about how cool it is to have “the best parents in Hawkins.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Still with the parent thing, Henderson?”
Dustin shrugs. “Well, yeah. I mean, look at you two. You’re literally a team. You take care of everyone. And you look at each other like…” He trails off, grinning. “Actually, never mind.”
Steve looks up. “Like what?”
“Like you actually care for each other,” Dustin says casually, hopping off the table. “Anyway, see you next week!”
He’s gone before either of them can reply.
The silence he leaves behind is heavy, but not uncomfortable.
Steve clears his throat. “He’s… not wrong, you know.”
Eddie’s chest tightens. “About… what?”
Steve laughs quietly. “About the team thing.”
“Oh.” Eddie sets down his dice. “Yeah. We make a pretty good one.”
Their eyes met and they lingered there, too long, too soft.
It feels like standing on the edge of something vast and warm.
That night Steve drives Eddie home as per usual, the rain’s still falling. The world outside the car feels far away.
Once they arrived at Eddie’s trailer, Steve parked outside, turning off the engine. Then he says, almost too softly, “Do you ever think maybe the kids just notice things before we do?”
Eddie turns to him. “Like what?”
“Like… maybe they’re not wrong calling us Mom and Dad.”
Eddie laughs under his breath, but it’s shaky. “Careful, Harrington. Sounds like you’re proposing.”
Steve smiles, lopsided. “Maybe I am.”
Eddie expected a laugh, or something that told him Steve was just joking. But Steve didn’t do anything, he just stared softly at him. And Eddie’s heart started to stumble in his chest.
“C’mon Stevie, don’t joke like that with me.” He tried to laugh softly.
And he smiled, but he didn’t laugh and that made Eddie’s heart explode one more time.
“I am not joking Eddie.” Steve said almost a whisper, that soft smile still on his lips. “So, are you going to kiss me or what?” He said raising an eyebrow and tilting his head towards Eddie.
And Eddie groaned, loudly and dramatically, leaning forward towards Steve. “That is music to my ears, sweetheart.”
And then Steve leans over too, close enough that Eddie can smell the rain in his hair and the sugar from the Capri Sun he’d drank earlier.
Their foreheads touch. Just that, soft, tentative, but real.
Eddie exhales. “Guess that makes you Mom after all.”
Steve snorts, pulls back just enough to look him in the eye. “Shut up and kiss me, Dad.”
And Eddie does.
Soft and sweet at first. Tentative. His brain still hadn’t completely process the fact the he was kissing The Steve Harrington.
It wasn’t until Steve exhaled happily on his lips that he became fully aware. And he immediately deepened the kiss; he grabbed the hair at the base of Steve’s neck and tilted his head.
Steve let out a soft, almost inaudible, moan. Oh, but Eddie catch it, and it was his favorite sound on the whole world now.
“Oh, fuck baby. This is a dream,” Eddie said almost breathless, he pulled back just enough to make eye contact with Steve.
“Then don’t wake up,” Steve was grinning now.
And Eddie couldn’t resist and he kissed him again.
The next session, the kids notice the difference right away.
Dustin smirks across the table. “Knew it.”
Eddie glares. “You start calling me Dad again, Henderson, I’ll make you fight a beholder solo.”
Dustin grins. “Yeah, sure thing, Dad.”
Steve just laughs, passing out cookies like nothing’s changed.
Except everything has.
So, when Eddie glances at him, Steve gives him that look again, warm and certain, the one that says yeah, maybe the kids got it right.
And Eddie couldn’t stop himself and smiled back at him. He gave him a dramatic wink, making Steve chuckle.
The table erupts again, dice clattering, voices overlapping, someone already arguing about whether they can tame the goblin instead of fighting it.
But Eddie isn’t listening to any of it.
His whole focus is on Steve.
Steve turns back to the kids, breaking apart a cookie to hand half to one of the kids.
He rolls his shoulders back, taps his knuckles on the table like he’s resetting himself, and announces:
“Alright! Heroes of mild competence! Your journey continues—”
The kids cheer.
Steve then settles himself again beside Eddie, and without looking, reaches under the table and hooks his pinky with Eddie’s.
Eddie’s words catch for half a second.
He doesn’t think any of the kids notice.
But Dustin does.
Of course he does.
His smirk is smug, and Eddie just wants to wipe it from his face. That kid is a little shit.
“Gross,” he whispers but he’s smiling.
Eddie kicks him in the shin. Gently.
Steve snorts.
The game goes on.
The kids save a village.
Eddie gives a dramatic speech as a dragon.
Steve listens to him fondly.
And it all feels… right.
Stupidly, terrifyingly, wonderfully right.
The session winds down slowly.
The kids gather their sheets and backpacks, chattering about next week’s boss fight. Dustin calls out “Later, Mom and Dad!” on his way out the door, like he’s legally required to. Eddie flips him off again. Dustin blows a kiss.
Steve reminds everyone to be careful on their ways home.
Lights get shut off one by one. Chairs get stacked. Dice get scooped into bags.
This time, Eddie drives.
Steve tosses him the keys without thinking, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is.
The drive is quiet. Comfortable.
Steve watches the road, but every now and then, he glances at Eddie like he’s checking that this is all actually real.
The streets are shiny, reflecting the neon signs of Hawkins.
When they pull up in front of Steve’s place, neither of them moves to get out.
Steve taps his fingers on his knee once.
Twice.
And then he asks, “Come inside?”
Eddie’s heart trips over itself. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Steve’s kitchen is dim, lit only by the warm yellow under-cabinet light he always forgets to turn off. It makes everything look softer, gentler.
Steve opens the fridge and grabs two sodas. Eddie leans against the counter, watching him like he’s something worth studying.
They don’t talk at first. They just exist in the same space.
Which is a different kind of intimacy than Eddie’s ever had.
Eventually, Steve sets a soda down beside Eddie’s hand and says, very quietly.
“Today felt… different.”
Eddie lets out a soft snort. “You mean the part where our unofficial son announced to the entire community center that we’re in a committed co-parenting relationship?”
Steve laughs, quiet, warm, and shakes his head. And Eddie noticed how he seemed to relax a little bit.
“No. I mean… the way it felt.”
Eddie’s smile fades into something real.
He nods. “Yeah. I know.”
There’s a silence. Not heavy, just them both trying to figure out how to say the next thing.
Steve’s fingers tap the side of his soda can.
He doesn’t look up when he speaks.
“I liked it. Today and about the other day.”
Eddie’s chest pulls tight.
Not painful. Just… full.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, voice low. “Me too, Stevie.”
Steve lifts his gaze then, and swallows. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Eddie. I’ve never…” He waves a hand, searching for the word, “You know, this is new to me. I… I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Eddie saw Steve’s hands tremble and he stepped closer. Not with force. Not with hesitation. Just… with intention.
“You’re not gonna fuck this up,” he told him softly.
Steve laughs, breathless and a little shaky. “I’m scared,” he then admitted, and Eddie could see it in his eyes.
Eddie then wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him closer. “I got you, sweetheart.”
Steve buried his face on Eddie’s neck and let out a soft sigh.
Something in Eddie gives. Softly. Quietly. Like a lock clicking open.
Eddie whispers, lips brushing Steve’s skin. “Okay?”
Steve slowly lifted his face to look into Eddie’s eyes, and he smiled. “Okay.”
And then they kiss. And it felt like they were sealing a promise.
When they part, Eddie’s smiling, small and real and impossible to hide.
Steve bumps their noses together. “Is it too fast to ask for you to stay tonight?”
“Nope,” Eddie grinned. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
They don’t rush.
They don’t have to.
They just stood there in the warm kitchen light, they wrapped into each other, like the world finally decided to be kind.
And it feels like something new is starting.