Eddie and Steve had been in the business of searching for a home for quite some time now, but were in no rush to buy the first one they visited. They had toured plenty of gorgeous farmhouses where they could absolutely imagine their future : establishing and running a thriving business, growing old together. But money and other matters (well, mostly money to be honest) had an uncanny way of ending these dreams quite abruptly.  After three months spent in Sacramento, Wayne had come back to stay with them in the valley, convinced by his nephew and Steve to leave Indiana behind for good. And surely, on  the very first visit Wayne had accompanied them on, everything seemed to fall into place.  ‘Should have asked this fucker to come with us from the start, if I’d known it’d be that easy,’ Eddie grumbled, a little bit sour. And sure, he was over the moon to have finally found his happy place, but he was also majorly bitter.

A classic Eddie Munson mood : thrilled, overjoyed, yet annoyed at the same time. He’d also spent the last six months bitching on the phone to Wayne about how impossible property hunting had been, and now his uncle had shown up and found the perfect place on his very first visit. So no, those two moods were not mutually exclusive. ‘It’s a fixer-upper,’ Wayne had said about the farmhouse and he wasn’t kidding. But the challenge did not intimidate Steve and Eddie. Steve, in a surprisingly turn of event (at least, for himself), turned out to be a surprisingly capable handyman. This, however, had not surprised Eddie, who had always known Steve would bend over backward for his loved ones. Picking up a hammer and a saw was just his latest and frankly more dramatic stunt in expressing his love.

The challenge of turning this aging house into their home was not a problem, it was just another huge, time-consuming, maybe-utterly-insane-to-the-onlookers, assuredly-life-changing project they would tackle together. The house was ancient and in dire need of love and updating, but its potential was undeniable and Eddie already had the vision. He felt the bones of an absolutely gorgeous, European-style home just waiting to become whole. The vines all around the property had been so neglected these last years, Steve would likely have to replant everything, which also meant their first season, and probably the second as well, would not yield much, neither in terms of quality nor in quantity. But the land was fertile and large enough for the kind of production Eddie and Steve wanted. The soil matched the grape varieties Eddie wanted to grow, and, well, the price, all things considered, was much much lower than the price range that drove them away from Napa.

ready for the next adventure ✨🍇🌿🏡

#wip #wipwednesday #steddie #90ssteddie

The first time Steve allowed Eddie to drive his baby, Eddie thought he had ascended to another plane of existence all together.  In Steve Harrington’s book of all things-love-language, there could not be greater proof of affection than letting him drive his darling car. Steve had never allowed another soul to touch his baby’s steering wheel.  But Eddie's initial excitement crashed hard and quick : Steve’s car was, in fact, a manual transmission, and Eddie had zero experience with one. ‘You know how to drive a manual, right ?’ Steve had asked from the passenger seat, absolutely smitten and lovesick. Seeing Eddie Munson’s hands on his dashboard was doing things to him, apparently.  And sure, yeah, of course, theoretically, absolutely, he knew how to drive a stick. How hard could it be ?, Eddie lied to himself. You just have to listen more carefully to the engine and don’t forget about the clutch, no big deal. 

‘Yeah, ‘course I know, what do you think ?’ he’d bluffed, the picture of nonchalance.  Eddie made a fool of himself trying to wing it but Steve had quickly caught on. Eddie’s masterclass of self-deception had fooled Steve for two minutes, tops, before it collapsed like a house of cards, so he had swiftly taken to coaching Eddie through it all.  Initially, Eddie had been a baby about it, petulant and childish, huffing and puffing about everything Steve had to say (in Eddie’s mind, read: about everything Steve had to critisise) about his driving style.  ‘Stop being a wildcat about it, you’re all bark and no bite. Take this as a bonding experience,’ Steve said twenty minutes and much coaxing later. That’s how they found themselves on a desert country road in the dead of the night, with Steve’s elbow propped on the driving seat and his fingers messing their way in Eddie’s curls to calm him down.

Despite Eddie’s ridiculous theatrics, Steve still looked at him as if he had hung the moon and stars in the sky.  He felt stupid, Steve only wanted him to succeed, so after a radical shift in his attitude, Eddie was now dead set on impressing his date : Steve had offered the chance to drive the Beemer, he better master it.  And then, miracle of all miracles, they kept on dating and Steve, despite Eddie’s less than stellar first attempts at driving the BMW smoothly, kept on trusting him. With time and practice, Eddie had become an alright manual driver, alright enough for Steve to toss him the keys semi-regularly when he did not feel up to driving himself. 

Eddie learned to accept his partner’s constructive criticism, and stopped talking back when Steve pointed that he was “holding the gears too long” or to “ease off the clutch more slowly, a smoother release will make for a smoother ride.” And God forbid, Eddie actually improved. “Always knew you could do it,” Steve cajoled him once, after months (years?) of practice later, one morning on their way to work when Eddie commented his thoughts about how perfectly smooth this particular morning commute went.  To this day, though, Eddie still has war flashbacks to their first winter in San Francisco, in ‘87. He’d found himself at a stop sign, on a ridiculously steep slope, with the Beemer suddenly hurtling backwards at what Eddie could only describe as supersonic speed. 

eddie vs the bmw

#wip #steddie #90ssteddie

Spaghetti Western Night 🍝📼📺

Commission from @/kasphacked from my fic “We Part To Meet Again” A Steddie Dads set in the 90s reunited after Eddie was whisked away for witness protection

#steddie #steddiedads #90sSteddie #waynemunson