Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wind blew through the dark curtains. Only the moon illuminated the room and the face of the innocent slumbering youth. The wind picked up but the youth didn’t turn away from it. If anything, they gravitated towards it, like a flower turning their face to the sun. The sound of curtain flapping covered the sound of wings as a creature entered the room, blending into the shadows.

The darkness formed a silhouette that hovered over the sleeping beauty. The figure stood by the bedside, leaning over until eyes slowly blinked open. Instead of screaming in terror or balking in fear, hands came up to embrace their midnight visitor.

“My love…”

The radio DJ’s jovial voice woke Steve up. Not for the first time he wondered how Nancy didn’t go insane waking up to that and he realized she was already out of bed. He could hear her moving around the room while he turned the radio clock off. 

Their morning went as it usually did. Steve always woke up after Nancy but he was quick to move once he was up. Going through his morning routine and coming down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Nancy had taken care of the coffee and was sitting at the table, perusing the newspaper. Steve took out things for breakfast, oatmeal, eggs, bacon, and some bread for toast. 

“How’s the paper?”, he asked as the bacon sizzled.

“Howard’s out sick which means they’ve got Ned doing the layout which means it’s a damn mess”, Nancy tutted as she flipped through it.

Steve already knew what she was thinking. “They’re not gonna let you write and do the layout at the same time.”

“Maybe not permanently, but I could handle it while Howard’s gone.”

He placed the plate in front of her and kissed the top of her head as he did. That go-getter attitude was what he loved about her. And he wouldn’t change it for the world. As breakfast went on, Nancy read out interesting blurbs from the paper. Not just her own stuff, sometimes the advice column had some gems, and she even threw some of the sports his way.

He almost forgot about his dream until he saw the way the juice ran from a cut strawberry down onto the plate, vividly red. And suddenly he felt a sense of wrongness. Nancy didn’t notice his inattention until she folded up the newspaper. She watched Steve play with his oatmeal. She had to get to work, but… 

“Something bothering you?”

“I’ve been having these weird dreams.”

“Dreams? Like nightmares?” She didn’t think she’d be soothing her husband from nightmares. At least not past high school.

“I don’t know, they’re just…weird.”

“You planning on seeing a psychic?”, Nancy raised a brow.

“Don’t even joke, it’s not like that.” How did he explain to her that a dream made him feel like he was in the wrong place. What even happened in the dream? He was in bed? And someone else was there? Someone who wasn’t Nancy? It wasn’t a crime to have a dream like that, but it still felt like he shouldn’t tell his wife unless he wanted to sleep on the couch for a few nights.

In the end, he just sighed and waved it off. “Forget it. Weird dreams happen, right? You don’t wanna be late.”

“No, I do not. Melvin keeps eyeing my seat like a vulture.” And she’d be damned if she let anyone take what she had worked so hard for.

Steve walked her to the door where they shared a kiss, then he waved as she drove off. Steve was a rare breed in this time, a stay at home husband. It made perfect sense. Nancy was the ambitious one. She got into college right away and dove headfirst into journalism. Steve had no dreams of his future, career-wise. When he thought of himself years down the line, he only thought of the one he loved (Nancy) and eventually a couple of kids.

He was filled with a sense of warmth whenever he imagined it as he tidied up the house. They both agreed they’d begin trying when Nancy was officially established at her job. And her writing stint at the Hawkins paper had been going strong for almost a year after starting there as an intern. So in Steve’s mind, it was only a matter of time before Nancy announced she was ready.

For now though, he had plenty of free time after cleaning the house, so he went to go and visit his friend, Robin. Maybe she’d understand his dream.

“Why are you telling me about your wet dream?”, she asked the moment he finished.

“It wasn’t a-!” He stopped himself because even he couldn’t deny there was something sultry about it. He had called the other person ‘my love’ and they’d fallen in bed together. 

“Dreams don’t always have to mean something”, Robin said. “One time I dreamt that I was gonna crash my car into a tiger and guess what happened?”

“You never crashed your car into a tiger.”

“Wrong! I almost swerved into that mural of the high school mascot. My point is, dreams just take things you’ve seen and heard before and turn it into a movie. I drive by that mural all the time. My sleeping brain just turned it into a new experience.”

Steve leaned back into Robin’s couch. “Maybe. But it didn’t feel like things I had seen before. Not like..this me…”

“‘This’ you?”

“Forget it, forget it”, Steve rubbed at his face. If he kept telling people this, he’d end up in an asylum. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Well, the word on the street is someone’s finally moving into that place on the hill”, Robin grinned.

“That creepy old house? Why haven’t they torn it down?”

Robin shrugged. “Probably historical or something. Who do you think is moving into it?”

“Some weirdo, a recluse maybe.” The house was on a hill that overlooked the rest of the neighborhood. Steve couldn’t imagine what kind of person would want to live away from everyone else.

Their talk turned to other, more gossipy things. The fact that Tommy was definitely already balding, how the Hargroves were definitely divorcing, how the stores were already gearing up for fall when it was still ninety degrees and mid-August at that. Steve found it easy to forget unsettling dreams when he talked to Robin. And he even forgot about the fact they’d be getting a new neighbor until a couple of weeks later. 

It was as if a switch was flipped because the moment the calendar turned to September, a chill settled into the air and the trees all began to turn like someone had sped up time. That night, Steve began sleeping peacefully but soon his body began to react to another dream. This one was solely sensations. They had him shifting in the bed, moaning softly. He curled up but a hand grabbed his shoulder and exposed him to the room. 

Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt the wetness fill his pajama pants. When he looked down, he could see the tent he’d made, beginning to soften. Embarrassment filled him. He hadn’t done that since high school.

Carefully, he got out of bed. He couldn’t believe he didn’t wake up Nancy with that. Normally she slept light as a feather. He moved to clean and change but something compelled him to the window instead. He opened the curtains, immediately feeling a sense of rightness as the moon shined on him. And there, in the distance, that old house.

There was a single window lit up. The first time Steve had ever seen a sign of life in that house. Before his rational brain could provide the thought that the new neighbor must have moved in, a voice called to him. A man’s voice.

“Come to me.”

Steve whimpered and his hands clutched the curtains.

“My love, come to me.”

“Steve?”, Nancy called him sleepily, snapping him out of the trance.

“S-sorry, sorry did I wake you?”, he asked, closing the curtains and turning away from the window.

“Come back to bed.”

“In a second. Gotta use the bathroom.”

Steve changed his bottoms before climbing back into bed with Nancy, wrapping his arms around her. This is where he belonged. THIS is where he belonged. For the rest of the night, his slumber was dreamless.

Chapter Text

A wolf howled and yet it wasn’t apprehension he felt, only fondness. It meant that he was near. 

He was on his back, hands above his head as he was undressed, a giggle bubbling in his throat. Any chill he might’ve felt from being bare was fended off by the body on top of his. Lips explored his body, making him melt into the thick blanket.

“Mine”, a voice growled as hands turned to claws.

“Yours”, he replied.

“Uh-ha!”, Steve gasped as he sat up. This time he didn’t bore Nancy with his dream talk and he didn’t even mention it to Robin when he saw her that afternoon.

He wasn’t ready to confront the gender of the one in his dream either. Robin had confided in him a year after living in the same neighborhood that she batted for the other team. Something Steve never thought he’d hear from a neighbor, but found that knowing about her persuasion didn’t change how he felt about her.

It was different for him though. He wasn’t like that. And he was married on top of that. He didn’t know what the dreams meant, but he wanted them to stop.

He just promised himself not to eat any sugar or spicy foods an hour before bed for a while.

“Guess who got saddled with a puff piece about some old man in his house”, Nancy said the moment she was through the door.

“I’m guessing not Melvin”, Steve said as he pulled a casserole from the oven.

“They want me to interview the guy moving in at that old house.” Her shoes were already off as she plopped down at the kitchen table. 

“Has he already moved in?”, Steve asked before remembering he saw a light on at the house the other night. Or had that been a part of his dream too?

“The interview is scheduled for tomorrow, so he must be settled by now. Smells great”, she sighed as Steve began to dish it out.

“It might just be a puff piece, but you’ll knock it out of the park like always. And they’ll know you’re meant for bigger stuff.” Steve kissed the top of her head before sitting down across from her.

“You’re probably right. And there’s gotta be an interesting angle to this story. Something other than the fact he’s moving in some old Victorian house.”

“If he’s old, he must’ve lived a full life before retiring here.”

Nancy nodded as ideas started coming to her. “I know how to find a good story. The only question is if they’ll print what I find.” She sure hoped the new tenant had something juicy.

Nancy had interviewed eccentrics before. Even back when she was just a student, she’d gone on excursions to the homes of recluses and hoarders and more. She was ready for whatever this guy had going on.

Or so she thought.

She knocked on the door and an odd breeze surrounded her. It was warm despite the chilly fall air. There was no answer, nor any other sound, so after a minute, she knocked again.

“Hello?”, she called out before checking her watch. She was about to knock again when the door slowly swung open.

Nancy called out again, her voice echoing. There were chests and trunks, some covered by sheets. It didn’t look like they’d fully moved in. She took a step through the door.

“We can reschedule if you still need to unpack?” When she didn’t get a reply, she took another step and the door shut behind her, making her jump.

It was mid-morning but the interior barely had any natural light. Most of the curtains were drawn. Nancy clenched her fists before releasing it. She wasn’t leaving without a story. Slowly she swallowed before calling out louder.

“Mr. Munson? Are you here?”

There was an agitated edge to her voice that she just couldn’t hide away. She was about to start stomping through the house when she heard a creak.

“Enter”, a voice rang out through the house. It was hard to tell where it originated from, but something in Nancy’s gut told her where to go. She found herself in a living room of sorts. At least, she assumed it would be. There was an unlit fireplace and the curtains were closed but Nancy could tell the window beyond was quite wide. Large enough to let in ample sunlight on a good day.

“Welcome to my home.”

Nancy flinched, not noticing the man sitting in the corner. That which was the darkest part of the room and made it so she could only really make out his hands. A stark contrast to when she gave interviews in business suites and well-lit coffee shops.

“Mr. Munson?”, she said it like a question before remembering her professionalism. Of course this was him, who else could it be? “I’m Nancy Wheeler, I’m here to interview you.”

“Take a seat”, he gestured to the couch on the other end of the room.

His voice sounded tired, but not as ancient as Nancy would’ve thought. She walked over to the couch and sat. The distance was further than what she was used to but honestly she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get too close to this man. She took her recorder out and turned it on.

“Nancy Wheeler for the Hawkins Post, talking with Edward Munson, new resident. So, all of Hawkins was abuzz when this place got bought up. What brings you to our town and this house?”

“It is a beautiful house. I am drawn to beautiful things.”

Nancy took out her pad and pencil to jot down notes. A simple, fluffy answer. Time to dig deeper.

“So the place you came from wasn’t all that much to look at?”

“The allure here was stronger. Hawkins called to me.”

“I’m sure the town is flattered”, Nancy said. Not many people called Hawkins ‘beautiful’. “Tell me more about yourself. Any family?”

As soon as she asked, a chill ran through her and it was just as quickly replaced but what felt like a blazing spike in her heart. Nancy gasped, bending over as the sensation melted away. Was that heartburn? She righted herself, prepared to apologize, but Munson seemed not to notice somehow. Maybe he wasn’t all there?

“I had a wife”, he answered like nothing had happened.

“You were married?”, Nancy asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. Inwardly she chastised herself while fixing her expression. All kinds of people could find romance. Even an odd hermit.

“She was a vision. One that the world didn’t deserve.”

Nancy didn’t asked what happened. She could assume. He was moving in solo after all. And no one liked to read sad stories. So she tried to switch gears when-

“And you? Are you married?”

“Y-yes..yes I am. His name is Steve.”

“Steve…”

There was a low rumble in his voice that made him sound younger and Nancy wasn’t sure if she liked that. She cleared his throat. “You know, you seem tired and I know you still need to settle, maybe we should reschedule this for another time.”

Nancy left her business card on the table and saw herself out, not quite shellshocked but turned around to say the least. When she got home, she could tell Steve wanted to ask about it and was glad when he saw her face and chose not to. She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realize anything off about Steve and went to bed only thinking of when she’d have to return to that house.

Steve could see the house from his bedroom window. It looked like a haunted house if he’d ever seen one. When he heard of a new tenant, he figured it would get new life. But it seemed whoever had bought it liked it just the way it was.

He stood at his window. There was a charm to that sort of style, he supposed. Lots of room for guests and tall staircases made for dramatic entrances.

He glided down the steps into an awaiting embrace that twirled him around the foyer. The kisses said it had been ages but the clock counted just over an hour since they last touched. He was swept up into a hold and carried right back up the stairs he’d just gone down. He wasn’t on his feet again until he was in their bedroom, a sacred place.

His clothes felt like they melted away as he was pulled towards the bed. He caught his reflection in the mirror and paused to admire. Shapely hips, supple breasts, dark hair that fell in ringlets over his shoulders. 

“Stasia, I beg of you, don’t make me wait.”

Steve bolted from the bed and ran into the bedroom, belatedly remembering that such a motion was sure to wake his wife.

“Steve?”, she asked after him.

“I’m fine!”, he shouted back. “Just had to piss.” He pulled his shirt up and felt just a bit of relief but didn’t release a sigh until he looked down his pants. Steve turned off the bathroom light and returned to bed, doing everything in his power to forget the dream he just had.