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Steve "The King" Harrington has a stuffed bear on his bed.
There's nothing wrong with it. Well, except for the fact that he's a nineteen-year-old man who can't sleep through the night without snuggling 'Stuffie'.
Steve got Stuffie when he was five for his birthday from his Nana. That, at least, can explain why the teddy bear's name is something as stupid and simple as 'Stuffie'. It can't, however, explain why Steve still sleeps with it.
A year after receiving Stuffie, Steve's father decided that Steve was too old to still have silly toys. He went through Steve's room and rounded up all the toys and things that he deemed 'too babyish' and threw them away.
Steve sobbed the entire time until his father hit him in the back of the head and told him to man up.
A ball of shame settled deep inside Steve that night. After he was sure his parents were asleep, Steve snuck down the stairs and outside to the curb to the trashcan. He climbed into the trash and ripped open the trash bag that held all his toys except for the ones his father considered acceptable (Read: toy trucks and cars, anything 'manly').
Steve reached all the way to the bottom of the bag for Stuffie. He set him on the ground as he put everything back as it was. Steve didn't care much for the rest of his toys he left behind. At least not enough to get a beating over them.
But he really loved and needed Stuffie and his father wouldn't notice one missing thing from the trash.
Steve slept soundly that night, Stuffie tucked snugly under his arm, smelling of garbage.
The next morning, after Steve's father left for work and before his mother left to go out with friends, she stormed into his room.
Steve held on tight to Stuffie as she looked down at him, too many complex emotions flashing through her eyes for Steve to understand.
"I saw you. Don't ever disobey your father again."
She slapped him lightly on the side of the ear, then she stroked her thumb over his cheek, wiping away the tear Steve didn't realize he let go. She stared at him with a look in her eye that made Steve feel like everything that ever happened to the both of them was his fault.
"Don't let your father see that, alright?"
Steve nodded and she left the room.
For the next five years, Steve would hide Stuffie at the very back of his closet until his father left for work. Steve would carry him all around the house all day until he heard his heard his fathers car in the drive way and back in the closet Stuffie would go.
Once he hit ten, Steve's parents deemed him old enough to stay home alone on his own. For years, his father would leave for business trips for days at a time, sometimes becoming one or two weeks.
At some point his mother must have realized that her husband was using these trips to sleep with other women. Steve got used to seeing resentment in her eyes when his father left, and seeing it again when Steve was a burden for more than ten minutes.
They first started leaving for a couple days at a time, four max, but as he got older and older, the time they were gone would grow. Steve went from not seeing his parents for days, to weeks, to eventually months would go by and he wouldn't see them. They would call at least once a trip and sent him post cards from where ever they were staying, but they stung Steve worse than a slap.
For a while after they started leaving, Steve felt lonely. Until he started realizing that his quality of life drastically improved. He could eat whatever he wanted, invite whoever over whenever, and he could go to bed when he wanted. And for the first time since before Steve turned six, Stuffie would stay out from the depths of his closet for longer than a couple of hours at a time.
At first Steve was anxious about sleeping with Stuffie in case his parents came home and saw him. But over time he learned that his parents wouldn't be back soon enough for him to really worry about it. And when they did come back and if it happened to be night time, they wouldn't check up on him away.
Then Steve started dating Nancy and Stuffie went back to the closet for a while. And not just in case Nancy showed up unexpectedly. He didn't really need Stuffie anymore, not when he had a pretty girl who loved him that he could hold instead.
Then shit happened.
Steve fought a goddamn monster at the Byers house and returned home to an empty, quiet, and scary house. He pulled Stuffie out for the first time in weeks and hugged him close as he sat against the headboard all night, too scared to sleep.
Stuffie didn't really go back after that. Only briefly when his parents showed up out of the blue every couple months, under the pretense of 'missing him', but Steve knew they just needed clean clothes.
Then him and Nance broke up, and Steve couldn't really blame her because maybe she wanted a man who didn't need an over ten-year-old stuffed animal to sleep.
Steve got the shit beat out of him again and again. But it was alright because he could take it and it was better if it was him and not the kids. Every time he returned home bruised and bloody, Steve felt that if he held Stuffie tight enough, long enough, all the pain would go away.
Then Steve met Eddie.
Sweet, caring, trustworthy, not-a-freak Eddie.
Stuffie went away for a little bit. Not back to the closet, just tucked into Steve's bedside table drawer. Where he only stayed when Steve was at work, or Steve was at Eddie's, or Eddie was at Steve's.
Steve couldn't really handle Stuffie being more than five feet away from his bed at that point. He knows it's silly and childish, but Steve felt safe holding Stuffie in his arms. There was something about holding Stuffie close to his chest that made Steve feel like the past three years didn't happen, it made him feel five again— sweet and naive, so naive.
Then Steve did something really stupid. He left Stuffie out on his bed on a night he knew Eddie was staying over.
He had forgotten that morning to put Stuffie away in his haste to not be late to work. Then when he came home, Steve was too distracted by getting ready before Eddie came to remember to move him.
Steve didn't remember until him and Eddie were halfway into his room. He turned his light on and internally cursed himself as his body froze.
Eddie continued into Steve's room and flopped on his back onto his bed. He arched his head back to look at Stuffie. Eddie turned over to his stomach and grabbed Stuffie as he sat up.
"And who is this?" Eddie gasped. "Steve, if I had known you had someone waiting, I wouldn't have stayed so long."
Steve suddenly snapped out of it and crossed his room in two quick strides. He took Stuffie from Eddie and threw him into his—thankfully empty— trash can. Steve didn't feel too worried about it; he knew that the moment Eddie left in the morning he would come back to get Stuffie from the trash.
"It's nothing."
Steve turned to his dresser to get clothes and pulled his pajamas on. He left his dirty clothes in a ball on his floor.
"Hey," Eddie said, frowning slightly. He got up and plucked Stuffie from the trash. "Does he have a name?"
Steve took Stuffie from Eddie's grasp again, he pulled open his drawer and threw Stuffie in and slammed it shut. "I said it's nothing."
Eddie threw his hands up in the air as his eyebrows shot up. "Stevie, come on. I don't care."
Steve ignored him as he turned his lights off and got into bed, making sure to be turned away from Eddie.
Eddie sighed. Steve listened to him as he got changed too. Probably into Steve's old swim shirt that Eddie wore every time he came over. Then Eddie got into bed beside him. He slowly snuck his arms around Steve's chest and then pulled his back into his chest.
"I have a stuffed wolf," Eddie whispered as he buried his nose into the back of Steve's neck.
"What?"
"Yeah, Wayne got it for me when I first came to live with him. I slept with it until I was fifteen. I still have it, you know? Sitting on a shelf in my room."
Steve let the silence settle over him while he tangled his legs with Eddies. It was different than the silence that usually came with his parents absence. He could hear Eddie's breathing, feel his heart beat, smell him. He felt Eddie.
"Stuffie."
"Hmm?"
"His name is Stuffie."
He could hear Eddie shaking behind him.
"Wha— Are you—? Are you laughing at me?"
"Yes!" Eddie gasped. "I'm sorry but that's such a stu... nice name."
"Stupid? Yes, I know. But I was five when I named him, okay!"
"Stuffie and Stevie."
"How sweet," Steve deadpanned.
"It is! How did you get this Stuffie anyway?"
"My Nana got him for my birthday. My dad tried to throw him away but I dug him out of the trash."
Eddie started to pull away and for a second Steve panicked. He was about to turn around and grab Eddie so he couldn't leave but he stopped when he heard his drawer opening.
Eddie turned back and Steve felt something soft touch his hands. He felt the panic and shame come back deep within him.
"Go on, I don't care," Eddie told him softly as his hands stroked up and down Steve's side.
Steve pulled Stuffie close and closed his eyes as he let sleep come for him.
Eddie held him how Steve had held Stuffie all these years. "Cute Stevie."
For the first time ever, Steve slept with Stuffie in his arms with someone else in the room without any fear.
It was nice.