Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve couldn’t immediately identify what had woken him. Eddie’s room was like a cave. Silent apart from the white noise coming from the fan. No lights on, his lone window shaded with a blackout curtain.

He didn’t have enough energy to let out a full groan or stretch, but he grumbled and nestled further into the mattress, expecting sleep to return to him once he closed his eyes.

But now that he was conscious, he was aware of the ache. Bone-deep, sore muscles, even his skin hurt. The ache of injuries primarily. He recognized those. But there was a new edge to it. Burning hips and tight thighs from his ill-advised nocturnal activities with Eddie… A new edge that could probably have been avoided if he’d listened to Eddie and not fucked his way through delirium to get him off.

Ever the masochist, because it was more than worth it to him. He’d do it again given the chance.

And, now that he thought about it—

Steve reached for Eddie’s side of the bed, expecting to graze skin or hair, luck of the draw if he got a handful of something while grasping blindly. His hand hit the bare mattress.

“Eddie?” he mumbled. Futile since the room was vacant apart from him, and probably a few spiders he’d yet to discover in his cleaning adventure. He was going to need to talk to Eddie about not being there when he woke up before he got a complex about it. Because seriously—

“Here.” Eddie accompanied his words with a stroke on his bicep.

Steve startled, glad that Eddie wouldn’t be able to see his expression in the dark. Confused, and more than a little disgruntled because what was the point of sleeping in the same bed as his boyfriend if they didn’t wake up together? Sure, Eddie was in the room, but not in the bed. It was not the same thing.

“Tried to be gentle about it,” Eddie continued, “didn’t wanna wake you at all, actually. But I figured you wouldn’t wanna stand Max up, so I made an executive decision.”

After he considered Eddie’s words, he was left with the impression that some of his stiffness was from staying in bed way too long.

He tried to sit up. “What time is it?”

“Little after noon.”

“Oh, shit.” Steve put more effort into getting upright, then. “You mind turning the light on?”

The overhead light hit him like a lightning bolt to the brain.

He blinked it away as best as he could, but the feeling didn’t fully dissipate.

“Shit, sorry. Want it back off?”

The bright side was that he could now see Eddie. He was already dressed and decent, which was a magic trick in itself since he must’ve been crawling around in the dark, snatching up items of clothing by feel alone. Unless he’d turned the light on before, made racket, and Steve was too out of it to wake up.

“S’fine,” Steve said. He held his arm out, searching to give Eddie a proper greeting.

Eddie’s sympathetic expression morphed into excitement. He was vibrating on some sort of hyperactive frequency Steve didn’t understand beyond guessing it had to do with waiting for him to get up. Steve was usually the first one up at the sleepovers he’d had, and waiting for the other boys to join the waking world was a royal pain. Especially at their houses… awkwardly sitting around alone—or worse, with random parents—twiddling his thumbs? No, thanks.

Eddie came over, stood before him. He was obvious about the inspection he performed but must not have found anything alarming, since he didn’t say anything.

“Were you up long waiting for me?”

“Juuust a couple hours.” Eddie scrunched his face. “Only mildly agonizing. I can handle it.”

“Poor thing. To go without me that long? I couldn’t imagine.”

“Lucky you don’t have to.”

“You could’ve stayed in the bed. Read? Like last time.” He remembered salty fingertips, Eddie’s tongue darting out to clean them. The empty Burger King bag and the greasy receipt that he had been holding onto all this time. Blood still buzzing from the high of shotgunning and getting off with Eddie, the first time it was free.

Eddie grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do.” Steve wasn’t ashamed suggesting it. Was he not allowed to miss Eddie even in his sleep? And if Eddie was willing to humour him, then no harm done.

“So, how ya feeling?” Eddie asked. “Better? Worse?”

Steve considered. “Better now that you’re here.”

“Be serious.”

“I am.”

Eddie shook his head and settled his hands over Steve’s where they rested at his hips. “I can tell last night took a lot out of you. If you’re not up to snuff, I can take Lucas up to Indy by myself.”

Sure, Eddie was correct—the sex had set him back physically. But mentally, he was on top of the world. Steve didn’t plan on letting a little fatigue stop him from a road trip. Especially since Lucas visiting Max had only been a hypothetical the last he heard. Eddie must have taken care of it while he was sleeping. And Lucas had obviously chosen correctly and opted to be a supportive boyfriend.

Now he was awake. So. “I’m good to go.”

“Don’t correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you tell me to tell you when you were pushing?”

“I meant if I was pushing you, and you know it.”

“Don’t push yourself either.”

“What if you push me? Could that work?”

Eddie scoffed.

“Come onnnn.” He gave Eddie a devilish grin. “Last night was fun.”

“Now that you mention it…” Eddie tilted his head back and forth. Fake deliberation. “No. You’re benched.”

“Benched?”

“Benched. With a capital B.”

Steve balked. “I’ve never been benched in my life.”

“Well, now you have, horndog. Fucking you to death isn’t on my to-do list.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. Barely being able to get out of bed as a consequence of their sexscapade was probably a good sign to listen to Eddie. A low-grade headache transforming into a migraine wasn’t on his to-do list.

“That’s what I thought.” Eddie was smug. “And if we wanna make visiting hours, and pick up Lucas who’s called for an ETA every fifteen minutes since I talked to him, by the way… You better get that sweet ass moving.”

“I thought you just said not to push myself? Can’t have it both ways, sweetheart.”

Eddie grimaced. “Okay, yeah. See what you mean now about the name rip-off. I refuse to be called sweetheart. Clashes with my whole vibe.”

“But baby doesn’t?”

“Quit arguing with me and get ready.”

Steve silently mimicked him when Eddie turned around, but he didn’t stop in time and was caught.

Eddie only laughed and threw a random pair of pants at him. “In case you were wondering, the correct response was, ‘yes, sir, right away, sir.’”

“I wasn’t wondering, but I’ll remember for next time.”

-

Steve emerged from Eddie’s bedroom to an empty kitchen. It was a testament to how thoroughly he’d been knocked out that Wayne’s truck didn’t wake him up when he returned that morning. He would be holed up in his room until close to dinner according to Eddie.

Steve was glad that his first time waking up at the trailer was with Eddie only. Made it more comfortable.

He was planning to opt for cold pizza leftovers, but the gorgeous bunch of bananas on the counter by the sink called his name.

“Wayne did some shopping this morning.” Eddie gestured. “As you can see.”

“What’s the scowl for?”

“I don’t know why he even buys fruit. It always goes bad. Wishful thinking, I guess.”

“You don’t like bananas?”

“You do?”

“They’re my favourite.”

“Interesting,” Eddie mused. “I would’ve taken you for more of an apple guy. Maybe strawberries, if anything.”

“Those are good too.”

“Well, go nuts… have one if you dare.”

“Thanks.”

“Sorry we don’t have a blender, or anything. Think you’re gonna have to suffer and actually eat the banana straight up instead of smoothifying it.” He grimaced and wiggled his fingers at Steve before smirking and adding, “Not that there’s any straight way to eat a banana.”

“What kind of fruit do you like, then?”

“The joke I wanna make is low hanging fruit, so, I won’t say it…”

“Too bad, I was really looking forward to hearing it,” Steve teased. “Oh well. I guess I’ll never know.”

“If you really wanna know. I’ll tell you.”

Steve shrugged, deciding again not to take Eddie’s bait. “It’s okay. You said you wanted to maintain some mystery. I’ll respect it,” Steve said, peeling his banana and taking a bite.

He relished in Eddie’s amused expression when he said, “You know, maybe bananas aren’t actually that bad. In fact, they’re my favourite fruit.”

“Really?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Well, it’s a recent favourite,” Eddie clarified. “As in, I decided just now.”

“Uh huh.” Steve shook his head. “Right.”

“I love them so much. They’re so delicious. And… yellow. Here, have another. I insist.” Eddie ripped another banana from the bunch and held it up to Steve to take.

Steve knew Eddie was making fun of him, but he did want a second, so he took it. “Pervert.”

Eddie held his hands up and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, and?”

“Hurts my feelings when you objectify me like this,” Steve said, all too aware that his cheek was bulging with the bite he just took.

“Go get your uniform if you really wanna see some objectification.”

“Okay.” Steve pretended to walk back to the bedroom.

“Whoa, seriously?” Eddie’s voice went husky.

Steve turned around and almost laughed. Eddie’s eyes were wide, and his expression adorably hopeful.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve deadpanned. “I’m gonna dress up for you in the kitchen with your uncle a door away when we’re already running late.”

“Damn.” Eddie leaned back.

“What?”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda bitchy when you first wake up?”

“Never really woke up with anyone before. So no. But, sorry. I’m sure I’ll level out in an hour or so.”

“No, not at all.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “I like it.”

“You do?”

“Sure. Makes me feel better about being an asshole allll day.”

“Happy to be of service, then.”

“Yeah, Steve? You like being of service?” Eddie crowded Steve against the counter and slung his arms over his shoulders.

Eddie’s eyes searched his. His expression playful but hesitant, like Steve might pull out the attitude again.

“Oh, I love it, except, there’s a tiny problem.” Steve blindly put his peel on the counter behind him then wrapped his arms around Eddie’s hips. “Actually, a big problem.”

“Big problem? You gonna say your dick?”

“No, that’s implied.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, then, lay it on me. What’s the problem not implied?”

“My boyfriend benched me, so…” Steve made a face. “I can’t really do much servicing right now in or out of uniform.”

“Wow, he sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “Sometimes he really cramps my style, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, what should we do about this treacherous leach?”

“Maybe you could take a rain check or something? I could service you as soon as he says it’s okay.”

“Jesus, you’re like an incubus or something,” Eddie breathed. “Risen from the depths of hell to tempt me.”

“Don’t incubuses like, prey on sleeping girls and shit?”

“Mostly.”

“Then I guess I gotta wait until tonight, then,” Steve said. “Get you when your guard’s down.”

“Shit.” Eddie grinned. “It’d probably work too. Can’t say no to you.”

“Sure you can, but you’d just feel really, really, really, extremely, super guilty about it.”

“True…” Eddie pursed his lips.

“And I don’t like it when you feel bad, so there’s only one solution I can think of here,” Steve reasoned. “One solution that would satisfy us both, at least.”

“What would that be?”

“Unbench me, and we’ll pick up where we left off last night.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes, but not before Steve saw excitement flash through them. “Oh, you mean last night when you almost passed the fuck out?”

“It wasn’t even close,” Steve scoffed. “You worry too much.”

“Well, one of us has to worry about you.”

“Okay fine, how about this? I’ll actually let you do the work this time, and I promise to last more than a minute.”

“Oh please. There’s no way you manage two out of two.”

“Guaranteed I will.”

“Don’t believe it for a second.”

“Will you let me try anyway?”

“Obviously,” Eddie said. “You actually think I could spend the night with Steve Harrington in my bed and not play with him? I’m just a man.”

“My man.”

Eddie ducked his head. The phone rang and cut off any reply. He sighed. “Your man who better get us over to Sinclair’s before he gets impatient and tries to bike to the city like an idiot.”

-

Pulling up to the Sinclairs’ was dropping Robin and Chrissy off all over again.

Steve barely had time to exit the car before he was surrounded.

Only after Hellfire Club swarmed him did he notice all the bikes strewn across the lawn. If he’d seen them sooner, he could’ve braced for impact.

It was everybody. The younger El and Erica, the older Jeff and Gareth, and everybody in between. All but Max.

Mike was there too…

The cacophony of “holy shit” and “dude” and “Steve” overwhelmed his ears to the point where their overlapping voices devolved to buzzing, but it was easy enough to interpret their thrilled smiles.

Dustin hugged him tight while the rest of the kids stood around a bit awkwardly.

Jeff didn’t hug him but shook his hand instead. “Sorry, I wasn’t there, man.”

“Like you could’ve done anything,” Gareth scoffed.

“You never know.”

“Sinclair. You didn’t say you had company.” Eddie came around the front of the car and elbowed his way past his friends to stand by Steve as Gareth looped his arms around his middle and squeezed him tight.

“Glad you’re okay, dude,” Gareth muttered.

Steve was taken aback and didn’t get to hear Lucas’ response. He clapped Gareth a few times on the back to finish off the hug. Eddie had said he was worried, and here was the proof.

“Shit, Gare,” Eddie said. “Now you can never shower again.”

“He doesn’t shower anyway,” Jeff said.

“Fuck you, just because you go on one date, now all of a sudden you know everything? All hygienic and shit?”

“Quit ruining the moment, guys,” Dustin complained. “One of our own has returned valiantly from the edge of certain death. Show some respect.”

“I wouldn’t call it valiant,” Mike commented. “He looks like shit.”

“Yeah, you two have that in common,” Erica said. “’Cept you didn’t even have to get beat for that.”

“Exactly,” Dustin agreed. “You face off two psychos and see how you do.”

“Yeah,” Gareth said. “I can’t even believe he’s still standing. Dude’s unreal. Your scrawny ass would’ve been shredded.”

“Whatever,” Mike said haughtily. “I’m just kidding around. You know it’s our thing.”

“Is it?” Will asked, eyebrows drawing together. “You seem pretty serious.”

Mike turned red. “Well, I don’t know. I—”

“No, it’s cool,” Steve said, pointing from his chest to Mike’s. “He’s right. We have an understanding.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Erica commented.

“Exactly,” Mike said, gesturing to Steve. “See? He gets it.”

“Yeah, they have an understanding, all right,” Gareth said. “Steve keeps Mike’s dirty little secrets as long as he doesn’t act up.”

“What secret?” Erica frowned.

“Yes. What secret?” El asked. “I want to know.”

It only took a second for it to click with Steve. El and Erica hadn’t had the privilege of hearing that conversation.

“What exactly little Wheeler here is hoarding under his bed,” Eddie explained. “It’s even worse than you think.”

“You told him?” Mike shrieked at Steve.

Steve glanced at Eddie. “Seriously?”

“Oops.” Eddie winced, but didn’t look apologetic at all.

“Assholes.”

“Wait a minute…” Dustin mused, narrowed his eyes. “You told Eddie?”

Steve immediately understood what Dustin was getting at.

Eddie agreeing with him, a jock, had been the evidence in Max’s case, and apparently Steve telling Eddie a secret was evidence in Dustin’s eyes. Observant little bastard.

The only surprising thing about the whole thing was that Gareth hadn’t spilled the beans. Something he must have been struggling not to do, given the way he was staring at Steve with wide eyes and shifting his weight like he was dying to let it out.

“You know, is anybody else confused about why these two are even hanging out?” Mike asked, crossing his arms.

“Dude,” Dustin said, smacking his knuckles against his opposite palm repeatedly. “How many times do I have to tell you? Look at the evidence?”

“This again?” Lucas asked. “Seriously, man. You gotta let it go. Eddie and Steve are not—”

“Did you hear a word Gareth said when he was breaking it down?” Dustin asked. “Did you?”

“So?” Lucas snapped. “That doesn’t mean—”

“I’m curious to know,” Eddie interrupted. “What did Gareth say when he was breaking it down?”

Gareth went even more wide-eyed. “Nothing, dude. Just like… the gist of it.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m serious,” Gareth insisted. “I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s a stretch, but I’m proud of you.” Eddie clapped Gareth on the shoulder.

“Really?” Gareth scrunched up his face. “For what?”

“Keeping your mouth shut long enough for me to tell everyone myself,” Eddie explained.

Steve’s heart swelled when Eddie slipped his hand into his, threaded their fingers together. Eddie’s left in Steve’s right meant his rings spread his fingers extra wide.

Starting their friendship practically in secret. An impulsive drama room visit, clandestine appointments at the Hideout, exchanged eye contact in the cafeteria. Steve understood the significance of a public claiming. Everyone had always hidden what they did with Eddie. Steve always regretted the fallout when everyone gossiped about his failed relationships. It was different too, not strangers in a hospital in the city where nobody knew them, and not a doctor who wasn’t allowed to hurt them.

These were their friends.

And now everybody who remotely mattered to Steve knew. It felt right and real to share, like some of the happiness that threatened to burst his ribs at any moment could escape and ease the pressure. It wasn’t a secret he had to keep to himself anymore.

“You all owe me twenty bucks!” Dustin yelled. “Hand. It. Over.”

“Jesus Christ.” Lucas covered his ears. “Would you shut up?”

“I agree,” Erica said, scowling.

“Twenty big ones!” Dustin was jumping up and down and pointing in the faces of those closest to him. “Pay up, you bastards!”

“No fucking way,” Mike argued. “We didn’t shake on it.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t count without a shake,” Lucas argued.

Steve surveyed the rest of the kids to see what they made of the situation. They’d known Eddie was gay and had no issues with it, but they didn’t know about him. And although he wanted them to know, a part of him was nervous they might be okay with Eddie but not him. And not them together.

Besides the three bigmouths, everyone else remained quiet.

Erica’s mouth was downturned, nose scrunched.

Will stared.

El asked Dustin how he knew. She didn’t understand.

“Occam’s Razor,” he said simply. “Simplest explanation is usually the correct one. Eddie cancels D&D? Same night Steve’s moping around Scoops like he’s at a funeral. My conclusion? They got in a fight, but not just any fight. A lover’s quarrel. And that’s only like, exhibit Z. There’s a whole alphabet of evidence. I mean, you guys saw when—”

“Henderson,” Eddie hissed. “Can it.”

“What? Come on. Let me have this.”

“I told you I’d give you a free sundae if you shut up about it,” Steve reminded Dustin. “What do you call this?”

Dustin froze. “Well, I—”

“I think you owe me twenty big ones for not being able to keep quiet.” Steve held out his hand.

“You’re not serious,” Dustin groaned. “I don’t have twenty.”

“You got ten?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah…”

The entire group laughed at Dustin while he forked over ten one-dollar bills.

“Got anything else in that wallet?” Eddie asked. “Since you’re short.”

“Just this coupon for a free rental, but I was saving it,” Dustin explained.

“Too bad.” Steve snatched it out of Dustin’s hands. It might come in handy if Family Video didn’t offer the employee discount.

“Better not be expired…” Eddie peered over at the crumpled coupon in Steve’s hands and then over at Dustin.

Steve couldn’t read the fine print, so he just said, “It’s good,” and hoped he was right.

“Wait… So, Steve. Are you like full gay?” Gareth began. “Or do you just like Eddie? ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about it and just cannot wrap my head around all the chicks you pull. And, follow-up question, do you think Robin would be interested in—”

“How about I wrap your ass around my foot?” Eddie slapped him in the head.

“Ow! Bitch!” Gareth tackled him, grunting while they wrestled and he assured Eddie it was a serious legit question.

Lucas ended up breaking it up. “Guys. For real. Can we see Max now? We can talk about this shit later.”

“I vote we talk about this shit never,” Mike said. “I personally don’t wanna hear a single thing about Eddie and Steve being… you know. Together. It’s weird. They don’t even make sense.”

“Good thing nobody asked you,” Eddie said.

“I agree,” Jeff said. “No offense.”

“Or you.” Eddie pointed at him.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. “Right? Like… Eddie, come on. Steve is… Steve. What do you even see in him?”

“Ask your sister,” Lucas retorted.

“Ugh, disgusting!” Mike said. “I was trying to repress that, and you just brought it back, asshole.”

“You’re repressing something, all right,” Gareth said.

Will snickered and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I think it’s awesome,” Dustin said brightly. “Now Steve can play D&D all the time.”

Erica butted in before Steve could respond.  “I don’t think so. If you wanna play with Hellfire, you better earn your place like the rest of us. You can’t just cheat your way in gettin’ busy with Eddie.”

“How old is she again, exactly?” Steve asked nobody in particular.

Erica didn’t like that at all, so Steve knew he’d hit the mark. Seriously, he would be asking why everyone assumed jocks were the only jerks for the rest of his life. These kids had serious attitude.

“And to think I defended you with Mike?” Erica put her hand on her hip. “I see how it is.”

“Will you at least come on Wednesday, Steve?” Will asked. “It’s my first time leading a campaign. I mean, I have before, but for Hellfire. Specifically. You don’t have to play or anything, but it’d be cool if you were there.”

Steve smiled warmly at him, seeing how nervous he was. Interacting with Will always made him want to punch his past self in the face for ever saying a bad thing about his family.

“Are we even still on for Wednesday?” Gareth asked Will, slinging an arm around him.

Will went even redder.

“Not unless Eddie cancels again…” Dustin said, with his arms crossed. “But something tells me that was a onetime thing.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And now we don’t have to listen to Eddie bitching about hating jocks, either.”

“Dustin? Thin ice, man,” Eddie warned.

Dustin nodded, immediately heeling. “Right, sorry.”

Steve laughed, enjoying Dustin being whipped into shape at Eddie’s command.

“Anyways,” Eddie continued. “In case you dipshits didn’t get the memo. Will is the new DM. Whether I cancel or not is irrelevant. And secondly, I will still be bitching about jocks. Nothing’s changed there.”

“Yeah, not this jock, though. I’m the exception,” Steve said, pointing to himself with two thumbs.

Eddie pursed his lips but didn’t deny it.

“See!” Gareth said. “That’s what I meant but opposite. Why did I get shit for it?”

“Anyways, for sure I’ll be there,” Steve told Will, ignoring the rest of the chatter.

“Really?” Will asked, perking up. “Awesome. So… do you think you’ll play? Because even if you’re like, fifty-fifty, I’ll make you a character sheet just in case. Of course if not, I can make you an NPC, that’s easy.”

“Uhh…” Steve sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, glanced at Erica who was shaking her head in disapproval. It made him want to say he’d play just to mess with her. “I’ll think about it,” he decided.

“I’ll take it,” Dustin said. “Spectating is the next best thing after participating. But he’s sitting next to me. I call dibs.”

“You sat by him last time,” Gareth said. “Something you wanna share with the group, there, Dusty? You seem a little obsessed.”

“Shut up I do not.”

“Uhhh, hate to break it to you, but he’s right, and you know I don’t agree with Gareth lightly,” Erica said.

“It’s actually kinda pathetic, dude,” Mike said.

“You’re one to talk,” Dustin said.

Mike blushed, and his mouth popped open. “Shut up.”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s ear and whispered, “Remember what I said about the hair? He’s probably just jealous you’re taken.”

Eddie snickered and whispered back, “Think he’s jealous of me by the looks of it. Me thinks the twerp doth protest too much.”

“What’d you say?” Mike demanded.

“None of your business, Wheeler.”

The group promptly descended into more bickering and asking Steve for details of the fight, already moved on from the shock of finding out he and Eddie were boyfriends.

At first, Steve was unsure of how to reply. He hadn’t even been able to stomach talking to Hopper. And there was no way he was sharing the full truth with anybody but Eddie.

But it didn’t end up mattering because the kids were less concerned with motive and more interested in how many punches he got in, if Billy’s dad wore brass knuckles, and if Steve secretly killed him and threw his body off the cliff and Hopper was covering for him.

El and Will were delighted by that suggestion and promised to ask the man when they got home.

Eddie was distinctly not delighted with any of the questions. Steve remained unbothered with their nattering. It was somehow comforting in how goddamn annoying it was.

“So what does Billy look like if you look like that?” Jeff asked. “Gare said he was messed up.”

“Yeah. Tell us, Steve.”

“Why you holding out, man?”

Steve sighed, exhausted after the ten-minute interrogation. He was about ready to plant his ass in the passenger seat and rest his eyes for the hour drive. These kids did not quit.

“I’m not actually sure. Far as I know he’s still in a coma. Max said his jaw was wired shut… He was kicked pretty hard in the face, so… Yeah.”

“Holy shit, dude. That’s intense.”

“Did his entire jaw like come unhinged?”

“Um.” Steve swallowed the bile in his throat down. “Sort of. But it all happened fast.”

“That’s crazy,” Dustin breathed.

“At least he can’t talk anymore,” Lucas said. “Hopefully it’s permanent.”

“Yeah. You should sneak into his room and put a pillow over his face. Finish the job and put him out of his misery.”

“Exactly, it’s the perfect time if he’s out of it.”

“That’s mean,” El protested.

“Better than what he deserves.”

“Yeah, El. You’ve heard what he’s like. Total douche.”

“He’s still Max’s family. She would be sad if he died.”

“Max hates that asshole, and you know it. He’s an enemy of the Party.”

“Exactly. It’s probably not even safe for Lucas to be under the same roof as him. Billy will probably sense him and, like, wake up to go on a rampage.”

Steve didn’t say that he’d thought the exact same thing. Instead, he said, “Guys, it’s more complicated than that. El’s right. We’re going there for Max, end of story. She’s there, so we’re there. It doesn’t really matter what we think about Billy. Okay? And nobody’s putting a pillow over anyone’s face. I don’t really feel like getting questioned by the police again.”

“Steve?” El said.

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?”

“We should go too. For Max.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “If there’s enough room in your car. I’d like to go.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimed in.

“Well if you’re all going, so am I,” Erica said. “I wanna see what this clown Billy looks like. Show him what a real rampage looks like if he wants to act up on my brother.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“I don’t. I care about our family reputation, and I won’t have us looking weak just ‘cause you can’t hold your own.”

“Whatever,” Lucas said. “You don’t know what you’re even talking about.”

“No, it’s true, Erica,” Dustin said. “This guy is insane.”

“We’ll see.” She crossed her arms.

Steve didn’t bother correcting her about the fact that nobody was allowed to visit Billy unless they were family. He also refrained from mentioning that if she was really going to pick a fight with Billy, she’d need to put on about a hundred pounds of muscle. He doubted she’d listen to him.

“We’ll have to get my van,” Eddie sighed. “If you all insist on joining us.”

“It’s Summer,” Gareth said. “What the fuck else are we gonna do?”

-

“Steve!” Lucas called. “Hey, Steve.”

Steve was already in the process of turning around when Lucas called his name again.

“Yeah?” Steve lagged, so he could let Lucas catch up. He wasn’t the fastest of walkers in his current state, but he and Eddie had taken a sort of mother duck formation and headed the group while the ducklings trailed behind on their way toward the hospital.

Lucas slowed them down to the point where they ended up shuffling behind the rest of the group.

“So, I kind of wanted to ask you something?”

“Go for it, man. What’s on your mind?”

“I guess… what exactly should I say to Max when I see her. I mean… I’m not even sure if she wants me here.”

Given that Lucas had seemed shocked about him and Eddie, Steve expected it to be about that, not his relationship with Max. But the fact that Lucas was cool talking to him said all it needed to about whether he was uncomfortable, or not.

“She does. Trust me.”

“I know Eddie said on the phone I should go up to show her I care and everything, but like… I don’t?”

“What?”

“No, no, no, not like that. I hate Billy. I know she does too. So I’m not sure how to be there for her if I don’t get why she’s upset. Like, to me this is a good thing… You know?”

“Believe me,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “I get it.”

“Do I, like, say sorry, or what do I do? Oh shit, should I bring her flowers or something?” Lucas brushed his hands over his hair. “Or like, a card? I just don’t know how to act, man.”

“Take it easy, Lucas,” Steve said, resting his hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Steve paused, gathering his words. “I hate Billy too. Nothing’s changed there. But it’s different at the same time.”

“How?”

“Like, just because he’s hurt and I feel sorry for how shitty his dad was doesn’t mean how he treated you or me or Max or anyone is okay. Doesn’t mean I forgive him or suddenly want to be his friend. You know? You can feel sympathy for the situation, doesn’t take away all that bad. Doesn’t mean being pissed at him or feeling glad he was hurt means you’re a bad person. It’s like I said. We’re there for her. End of story.  Like, just see it as keeping her company while she waits with her mom. You don’t even have to say anything. Let her talk and you listen. Then ask her how to help if you’re still not sure. She’ll tell you.”

Lucas was quiet, frowning while he stared at the ground.

“Does that make sense?” Steve prompted.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Cool.” Steve searched for more to say since Lucas still looked unsure. “Anyway, it’s probably good the rest of us are here too, won’t be so much pressure on you.”

Lucas nodded. “True. Yeah.”

“And what about the flowers?” Lucas added once they got inside the entrance of the hospital. “Do you think there’s a gift shop here, or something?”

“I don’t know how Max feels about flowers, but I know there’s a vending machine she likes. Maybe buy her a few snacks. I’m sure that’d do the trick.”

“Okay. Cool, man,” Lucas said. “Cool.”

“It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max’s feelings toward her stepbrother's condition were less to do with sympathy, and more to do with guilt. She thought the whole thing was her fault, had confided in both him and Eddie about that. Steve would leave it to her to decide how much to share with Lucas, but he was confident his presence would be meaningful to her, regardless of what he said or what gifts he brought, given how hopeful she’d looked at the prospect of his visit. Lucas would see that too, eventually.

“Yeah…”

“It will. I’m serious.”

Lucas nodded, finally brightening. “Thanks, Steve.”

“For sure.”

“You know, for what it’s worth. I’m sorry you got hurt. That family… They’re something else, man.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “But don’t think it means you’re off the hook from one-on-one with me, though. I saw that basketball net in your driveway, and I plan on putting it to good use.”

“Bring it on, dude. I can handle it.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.” Even if he had to take a break every few minutes, or give Lucas tips from the sidelines. It was happening.

“And, um, I also kinda wanted to say… You and Eddie…”

Steve glanced at Lucas.

“That’s cool.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks. I think so, too.”

“Definitely weird,” Lucas added. “But cool.”

-

Walking into the building with a horde of obnoxious children raised even more eyebrows than Steve holding Eddie’s hand the day before.

The nurse manning the station gave them all strict instructions on keeping noise to a minimum and limiting their visit to the lounge. No running in the halls. No funny business. No visiting anyone unless they were family.

The debriefing displeased Erica the most—she rolled her eyes every five seconds—but all of the kids understood the concept of being considerate, so they moved it along to the lounge.

It was all a bit anticlimactic when they walked into the room and found it empty.

Everyone grabbed a chair and waited.

It was only a few minutes before Max came in, skateboard tucked under her arm and a chocolate bar in her hand.

Her face went from brooding to shocked and landed on a smile. “What’s up, stalkers?”

Steve bumped his shoulder against Eddie’s while they hung back and observed Max getting swarmed the same way he had been. When he wasn’t in the moment himself, overwhelmed and not sure how to handle it, he could see the situation objectively. How loving and supportive. Like the chirpy little brats didn’t have to say I love you or I’m sorry or I have your back. They just bombarded each other with insults and questions and endless attention, and that meant you were part of the group. Like the more they messed with you, the more important it meant you were.

Eddie bumped him back, turned his head to throw him a quick smile. He furrowed his brows after a moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You?”

“I am if you are…”

“Then we are.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes briefly, then levelled his expression. “Good.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve added after a moment.

“For what?” Eddie full out frowned now.

“For everything.”

“You—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Max said, emerging from the now settling crowd. “I see you made it.”

“Yep, and so did your boytoy.” Eddie nudged her.

“Gross, don’t call him that.” She scrunched her face. “That’s disgusting.”

“You started it.”

“Lovebirds is not the same thing.”

“Boytoy isn’t that different from boyfriend. Don’t be a baby.”

“It’s sounds creepy.”

“What do you think, Steve?” Eddie prompted.

“Uhhh… I don’t know. What’s the question?” The discussion was nonsensical to him.

“Doesn’t matter.” Eddie waved. “Steve agrees with me, Red. It’s default, so get over it.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, stepping forward as if to hug them, then stopping in her tracks to look behind her.

“Get over here,” Steve teased. “Even Gareth hugged me. I think you’ll live.”

“No shit.” Max raised her eyebrows. “Now I really don’t wanna hug you. You’re probably like, contaminated or something.”

“Your loss,” Eddie said.

Max rolled her eyes and called them losers. Hugged them anyway.

“So any news?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, actually,” Max said. “They said the swelling on his brain went down enough that they’re going to try and take him out of the coma tomorrow. Then they’ll have to talk to him, and do like, a bunch of tests, or whatever. But yeah. They say if he does well, they’ll take him out of ICU and maybe even transfer him back to Hawkins.”

“Is your mom doing any better?”

“Not really”

“Sorry,” Steve offered. “That sucks.” 

“Looks like some of your swelling went down,” Max told him, gesturing to his face. “How’s it feel?”

“Sore, I guess.”

“No, but like if you actually had to describe it. You know, like an ache or a burn or a sting… Or just general shittiness?”

“Max… It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“And me,” Eddie said pointedly. “So tell her.”

“Ganging up on me? Seriously. You two were just arguing.”

“That was then, this is now.” Eddie turned to Max. “I swear. I cannot get a straight answer out of him.”

“I bet.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve said when Max and Eddie started snickering together.

“What’s so funny?” Dustin came over. “Tell me the joke.”

“Yeah,” Gareth butted in. “You guys talking about me?”

“Not this time,” Eddie said.

“I was asking Steve how he feels,” Max explained, “and he’s being… evasive.”

“Hey, has anyone used the ‘does your face hurt ‘cause it’s killin’ me’ joke yet?” Dustin asked. “I just wanna make sure before I say it.”

“Well, it won’t be funny anymore, dipshit. You spoiled the punchline,” Jeff said.

“I disagree,” Dustin said. “It’s always funny.”

“If it’s always funny why didn’t you just say it?” Steve asked.

“An excellent point, you make. Okay, okay, okay. Here we go,” Dustin said, holding up his hands. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” he sighed deeply, allowing annoyance to completely colour his tone.

“Does your face hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because it’s—” Dustin paused. “Ahh shit. It only works if you say no.”

“Huh. Guess the joke isn’t always funny.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Good effort, though, buddy.”

-

“How’re you feeling?” Eddie asked once the kids were dropped back off at the Sinclairs’.

Steve was riding in style. In the passenger seat of Eddie’s van with an abhorrent amount of fast-food wrappers and not-quite empty cups at his feet. Every time he shifted, the pile rustled and sloshed.

Steve decided two things. First, he was cleaning the van as soon as possible. Second, the next time he went to the store, he was getting Eddie a pair of fuzzy dice to hang over the rearview. Maybe a beaded curtain to separate the back from the front. An air mattress, too, in case they ever took a long drive and wanted to park… If he was going to be riding in the van more often, he wanted it to look cool. 

It already sounded cool; the tape deck had Corroded Coffin’s demo stuffed in it. The perfect soundtrack. Songs Steve had never heard before. Not covers of disco or pop, not even covers of metal. Original material. He hadn’t been able to hear it on the way up because Hellfire Club fucking failed miserably at the Who Can Be Quiet the Longest? game.

“Steve?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Steve said. “I answered in my head.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Fucking awesome.”

“Come again?” Eddie threw him a side-eye.

“Today was a great day.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You’re not exhausted? I swear this trip took a decade off my life.”

“Between that and the seven years Argyle took yesterday, you’re not gonna make it to forty.”

“I’m immortal, so the numbers actually don’t count. It’s hyperbole for dramatic effect.”

“Oh shit, why didn’t you say so?”

Eddie pshed for lack of a decent come back.

“Anyway,” Steve said, “I am exhausted, but still good. Max seemed really happy to see everybody.”

“Yeah, even her mom cracked a few smiles.”

“I noticed, too.” Steve sat up a little straighter.

Susan had come into the room shortly after they’d all arrived. Still looked like a shell, bags under her eyes that were more black than blue. She wore the same clothes as the day before. It was much less awkward to have the kids as a buffer, but Eddie still shrunk in on himself in her presence. Barely said a word unless someone spoke directly to him.

By the end of the visit, Eddie had thawed enough to put Steve’s mind at ease. He sat on the outskirts of the group along with Will, Gareth, and Jeff chatting about the upcoming campaign while Steve was a few seats away, Erica, El, Dustin, and Mike in his group. Max and Lucas made the only pair. Susan seemed too occupied to realize the implication.

They took their cue to leave when another family came into the room and had nowhere to sit. Both Max and Susan looked sorry to see them go.

“They’re goddamn annoying, aren’t they?” Steve continued. “But so much fun.”

“I think ‘goddamn annoying’ is a very succinct way to describe us all,” Eddie said. “Me especially.”

“You’re not annoying,” Steve disagreed.

“Steve. Come on. I’m self-aware.”

“No—”

“Just admit it. Your blood used to boil at the mere sound of my voice, the mere sight of my face. It’s okay. You can tell me. I can take it. Hell, I’d consider it a job well done if I rattled you even just a little.”

“Okay fine,” Steve conceded. “You rattled me. But only because I didn’t understand you. And you didn’t like me. And you scared me. That’s not the same thing as being annoying, though.”

Eddie turned and squinted at him.

“What?”

“Where’d you get those?”

“Get what?” Steve frowned.

“The rose-coloured glasses,” Eddie said.

“Oh my God, I thought you were talking about my black eyes and all the rest of this shit.”

“No, I know where those came from.”

Steve huffed. “Anyways, you’re one to talk. I know for a fact I’m annoying.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because,” Steve said, “I don’t get half your references. I love sports… And I talk way too much.”

“You talk all you want,” Eddie said. “It’s a nice break from the sound of my own voice. Believe me. And as for the references? You’ll learn in time. I’ll make sure of it.”

“And the sports?” Steve teased.

“Either you have an epiphany or I have to get over it.” Eddie shrugged. “You appreciate Ozzy at least, and that’s like a trump card for most things.”

“Okay, and you don’t find it annoying that I’m a total neat-freak?”

“Only freaky thing about you is me,” Eddie said. “I think most would agree your cleaning habits are a good thing. My room is on its way to actually being habitable thanks to you.”

“Hmm.”

“Anything else you want me to disprove, ‘cause I can do this all day, sweetheart.”

“Not that I can think of right now, but I’ll let you know.”

“That’s what I thought.” Eddie smirked.

“Anyways,” Steve said. “How are you feeling?”

“What? Why?”

“Because… you asked me. So now I’m asking you. It’s not a trick question.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “Right.”

“What is it?” Steve said, now concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” Eddie sighed. “Nothing’s wrong, at least nothing you don’t already know about. Just, you know… The whole situation’s a lot. Lots to think about. Lots to feel. I wish it could just be you and me, without all this shit twisted in. That’s all.”

“I understand,” Steve said. “I really do.”

“I know.”

“Pretty cool how well they all took it, though. Don’t you think? I mean, I know we didn’t really talk about Max guessing, or telling anybody else, but I’m stoked about the way it all went down.”

“I think it was the best possible case scenario,” Eddie said. “A decent mix of elation, shock, and bitching.”

“Oh, the bitching levels were off the charts,” Steve agreed. “They all need a serious attitude adjustment.”

“Well, I’ve been a bad influence on them, and to be frank, you added into the mix is only going to make it worse. Your presence alone eggs Mike and Gareth on and excites everyone else.”

“It’s cool,” Steve said. “I think the more a Hellfire Club member bitches, the more it means they like you.”

“You cracked the code, Sherlock,” Eddie said. “Told you you weren’t alone…”

“I told you first.”

“I told you second.”

“I told you first.” Steve nudged Eddie’s thigh and reciprocated his wry smile.

“Tell me something else,” Eddie prompted.

“Like what?”

“Like what you and Sinclair were conspiring about. If it’s top-secret jock stuff, leave me out of it, but otherwise… spill.”

“There was one basketball mention, actually,” Steve admitted.

“Of course there was.”

“Mainly he just wanted some advice, though.”

“About?”

“About Max. He was nervous to see her. You know? Didn’t know exactly what to say because he’s not sorry.”

“And what sage wisdom did you bestow upon him?” 

“Well, basically what I keep saying. To be there for Max anyway. How it’s okay to feel conflicted. That things are complicated.”

Eddie glanced at him with intrigue in his eyes, but still, Steve hesitated before expanding.

“Like, I wanted Billy dead before, right? And I still fucking hate his guts. I do. And part of me wonders if it would’ve been easier for everyone if he did bite it. Two birds one stone. But then... I also know I’m glad I didn’t have to see him die, and I’m sorry he had such a fucked-up father.”

“I get that,” Eddie said. “It’s not exactly a crazy conclusion to come to.”

“I just… I want you to know how I feel.” Steve hesitated once more then decided to go for it. “‘Cause last night, I didn’t really explain, and I don’t want you to think I’m like suddenly cool with everything just because I’m sympathetic, or whatever. And I don’t know. I don’t want you to have these like, high expectations of me, either. Like I’m a saint or something. Like it’s black and white. Steve good. Eddie bad. It’s just not true. I mean, I talk shit. I fuck up. I don’t forgive him,” Steve said. “I’m not perfect.”

“I know that, Steve.”

Steve looked to Eddie. He hadn’t been expecting such easy acceptance.

Eddie sighed before continuing. “When I said you were light, I didn’t—I only meant you’re fair. Reasonable. You think about people’s feelings, accept blame for your mistakes if you make them… honestly too much blame, but that’s for another day. You know? It’s more like …” Eddie deliberated, hit his hand on the steering wheel when he got it. “It’s more like you ask questions, maybe shoot later, and I shoot first, maybe ask questions. Not that I always make mistakes and you never do. Of course, I get shit’s not that black and white. It’s like a… I don’t know, a grey area, or some shit. I was just trying to make you see that you think I’m a lot better than I am.”

“And fuck it, you know, maybe I have the same problem,” Eddie added. “Maybe I’m wearing rose-coloured glasses too—total Ozzy move, by the way. But I don’t know. I hope you get what I mean.”

Pressure lifted from Steve’s chest. As much as he loved that Eddie saw the best in him, he also didn’t want Eddie to put him in this position of strange superiority, up on a pedestal where he could easily fall if he wasn’t sweet all the time. Even Eddie calling him bitchy and liking it made him feel more comfortable; it eased his mind that Eddie was aware he was imperfect. He didn’t necessarily agree with Eddie calling himself an asshole, but he did like the idea of them balancing each other out.

“No, actually. I get it,” Steve said. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“Good,” Eddie breathed. “Good.”

“Good,” Steve echoed. “And you know what’s better?”

“I’m stumped.”

Steve cracked a smile. “I think my advice worked, since they were glued to each other the whole time we were there.”

Eddie placed his hand on Steve’s thigh. “You know what I think?”

“What?” Steve held Eddie’s hand with both of his.

“I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to Hellfire Club.”

-

“There they are,” Wayne announced, getting up from his chair with a groan. “I was wonderin’ when you boys’d be home.”

Eddie and Wayne started discussing what they should have for dinner by the time Steve caught up. He was too busy trying not to overthink Wayne’s use of the word home, trying not to take it too much to heart.

They settled on pizza again, so Steve had the pleasure of watching Eddie be all huffy about patronizing Surfer Boy Pizza.

Steve did a fake cough interlaced with drama queen that had Wayne chuckling enough to send him into an actual coughing fit.

“You boys got a couple calls while you were out, by the way,” Wayne said once he’d calmed down.

Steve’s stomach sank.

His parents? Calling the number he’d left on the note for them on the kitchen counter? Something he wasn’t used to doing because if he left a note every time he went somewhere when they were out of town, he’d have the trash can full of discarded, unread paper. As much as he was scared of getting in trouble upon their return, he didn’t want to be in worse trouble for being nowhere to be found.

Alternatively, it could’ve been Robin.

They were the only people who could’ve called for him. Unless it was one of the kids? But he was with them up until twenty minutes before…

He hoped it was Robin. He was used to seeing her every day. Talking to her everyday. It had been too long, and he missed her.

His cheeks heated when Wayne went to the phone and grabbed the notepad beside it. Chrissy and Robin’s names were written down, both with a time. After Robin’s name, it said (for Steve) with three separate times. After Chrissy’s, (for Ed).

He imagined Wayne taking a similar note after he’d called from Scoops. Had him giddy that now he was receiving calls at that number. Even if it was only temporary until he went back home.

“Were they selling bibles or something?” Eddie asked.

“Crosses,” Wayne retorted. “Ya smartass.”

“You can call Buckley back first,” Eddie told Steve. “I have more than one call to make, so I’ll take longer.”

“Uhh… Robin and me might take even longer. Especially if she’s giving me the rundown of what happened with her and Chrissy.”

“Guaranteed that’s why Chrissy called me too.”

“You go first,” Steve insisted. “Then you can report back and I’ll have the inside scoop to give to Robin.”

Eddie laughed. “Inside scoop, huh? Is that what they call your employee meetings?”

“No. Close, though.”

“What, then?”

“The Scoops Scuttlebutt,” Steve revealed—extremely begrudgingly.

“Eh. Not bad. Dig the alliteration. It’s a bit of a mouthful, though.”

“What’s wrong with being a mouthful?” Steve said under his breath. He smirked at Eddie afterward.

“You make an excellent case,” Eddie said seriously. “And your loyalty to the company is exemplary. In fact, you—”

“The more you beg me to put on the uniform, the more I’m definitely never gonna fucking do it.”

“It’s scary you even knew where I was going with that.”

“Not really,” Steve said. “You’ve been pretty clear on how you feel about that outfit from the beginning.”

“And yet you still deny me.”

“Maybe you should put it on.”

“You know damn well I wouldn’t fill it out the same way.”

“So? You—”

“I still got some hearin’ left,” Wayne said. “In case you forgot, Ed.”

Steve burned from scalp to toes. He hadn’t meant to quit whispering. Wayne only said Eddie’s name, but Steve knew he was reminding the both of them to cool it. It was somehow worse than the joke he’d made about neither of them being able to get pregnant.

He busied himself with getting a glass of water, so he could pretend he was no longer present in the trailer. Or on Earth.

Eddie only laughed at his uncle and told him not to be such a stick in the mud before he saddled up to Steve at the sink. “It’s funny,” he whispered directly in Steve’s ear, “because anal sex and a stick in the mud basically present the same imagery if you think about it.”

Steve didn’t give Eddie the satisfaction of choking on his water, even refilled his glass before finally turning to him. “Seriously?”

Eddie grinned. “Go call Buckley before she kicks down my door.”

-

After the phone calls, dinner, and lounging with Wayne until he left for work, Steve was prepared to willingly reinstate his benchwarmer status. Especially since his embarrassment from what Wayne overheard lingered in the pit of his stomach.

But Eddie was on him as soon as he was under the covers, and Steve abandoned logic.

Sure, he was only staying with Eddie so someone was looking after him until he was out of the danger zone, something Robin graciously reminded him of while on the phone, “The whole point of staying with Eddie is to have someone there to make sure you don’t keel over and die from like, a surprise aneurysm or something. How is it healthy to do nothing but bone when you just got out of the hospital? You should be resting, Steve.”

And he doubted the doctor who’d prescribed him a babysitter considered Eddie giving him a handjob good caretaking…

But Steve disagreed.

Because Eddie sneaking his hand into his boxers and wrapping it around him was better than any of his pain medication.

“Wha—oh my god.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to protest. Not until Eddie stopped.

“Why?” Steve asked, hips jerking off the bed and chasing his hand. “Eddie, please. Don’t stop.”

Eddie had the audacity to laugh at him. “Who said anything about stopping?”

“You—”

Eddie put his hand back and continued stroking. This time at an unbearable pace. Hard, twisting his grip at the head and giving a tight squeeze before repeating. Steve was right back on the edge in no time, just a little more and—

Eddie let go again and had his dick falling back against his stomach, sorely neglected. A pitiful barely-anything pulse was all he had to show for himself. He strained and flexed, hoping it would be enough to get him there without Eddie touching him, but it was no use.

“Eddie,” he whined. “Come on.”

“Who?”

Steve blinked, trying to figure out what Eddie meant. “Baby?”

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie approved. “And not yet.”

“I thought you couldn’t say no to me… Please?”

“I can’t say no to you,” Eddie agreed, “but I never said anything about ‘not yet’. You can wait.”

“I really can’t.”

“Come onnn,” Eddie mocked him. “You waited a few days before. A couple weeks. Yeah? And I told you last night. No teasing. That would be for next time. And what, sweetheart, do you consider this?”

Shit. “Next time.”

“Exactly.”

“Ugh, okay. Fine.”

“Don’t do me any favours.” Eddie pulled his hand back and examined his nails. “I have other things I could be doing if you’re not into it.”

“Don’t even joke,” Steve said. “Not into it… the day I’m not into it, take me to a fucking priest or something because I need an exorcism.”

“I don’t know about exorcising, but I can certainly exercise you.”

“Do whatever you need to as long as you’re doing something.”

Eddie smiled fiendishly and bent down to lick Steve’s nipple.

He jolted at the sensation, a zing shooting right down to his balls, but it was nowhere near enough.

Eddie did it again. And again. And again.

Then finally landed a lick on his tip.

Every single one of his muscles locked up, and this time the zing was more powerful. It didn’t retreat but remained as a constant thrumming. If he held onto it, the next touch of Eddie’s tongue would make him come. He knew it.

But Eddie didn’t do anything more.

He waited. Dragged his fingertips across Steve’s stomach and down over his upper and inner thighs. It was soothing more than anything else, and did nothing to push Steve over the edge. Eddie’s caress guided him away from the edge.

He was still desperate for it, though. Didn’t understand how Eddie could stand to dangle his orgasm in front of him. Taunting him because he was confident enough to know he’d get Steve off eventually. On his own time. And it was no question that he would and could get Steve off.

The way Steve was, he wanted Eddie to come so bad and make him feel so good that once he knew he was heading in that direction, it was full steam ahead. On his knees in the bathroom stall, he would’ve rather died than given up when he realized Eddie was about to come. Because what if he lost the rhythm, and then it fizzled out, never to be found again?

He was like that in the beginning with girls, sometimes it took a while to get them going. When he was inexperienced, or if they were shy, new to being eaten out. Or whatever. And then, even as he got more confident in his abilities, he found he liked it so much when they felt good it didn’t occur to him to tease. He would get them off as fast as possible, and then do it again. And again. As many times as they wanted to go.

Satisfaction from being of service. Whatever that meant to whoever he was with.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s eyes glowed brighter the more desperate Steve became. Like his satisfaction came from the power of being needed, and he wanted the control to make it last as long or short as possible. Similar, but not the same.

He decided to work with Eddie. See if that got him anywhere.

Eddie started jerking him off again, and he knocked his hand away as soon as he felt himself get close.

“Don’t need your help, but you’re very sweet.”

Steve didn’t hide his disappointment.

Eddie smiled, not mockingly this time. “You wanna be good so bad.” He said it like fact.

“Good for you,” Steve corrected. “Like you said you wanted to be for me.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes.”

“Being good doesn’t sound like me at all. When did this imposter say such a thing?”

“Last night.”

“I was really running my mouth last night, wasn’t I?” Eddie wrinkled his nose.

“I like when you run your mouth.”

“Then you’re gonna love this.”

Steve wasn’t prepared for Eddie to deepthroat him. He was seeing double, spinning out. Moaning so raggedly, it made it all the more obvious when his noise turned into a confused whine. Embarrassing and pathetic even to his own ears.

Eddie backed off, but his dick didn’t get the memo. All he had to show for himself was a few streaks of come across his chest but without the bliss.

He hadn’t even been aware that could happen.

Steve had no words for the disappointment. Cock still painfully hard, jizz cooling on his skin. And yet, he was fucking sweating it was so goddamn hot, and he was so worked up.

“Eddie,” he ground out. “Please.”

Eddie’s expression was sadistic delight. Like he knew how much Steve hated this feeling. The only thing he loved about it was that Eddie was clearly having fun. And Eddie had taught him how good it could feel to wait. He had to believe it would be worth it, being toyed with this way.

“Please, baby,” he repeated. “Please.”

There must’ve been something in his voice that compelled Eddie to take mercy on him because he didn’t hesitate to continue. This time with his hand instead of his mouth.

He pressed his body even closer to Steve’s, sweaty skin sticking together. His grip was tight and sure, and his fist flew up and down Steve’s shaft in a blur.

He stopped for a split second and then went slower, avoiding the head altogether.

He stopped again, went faster and tighter.

Stopped again and went back in with only his thumb and two fingers exclusively on his head, and Steve was almost scared to give in to the feeling and chase it in case Eddie was fooling him again.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me.”

Finally.

He came so hard it hurt. Like his dick might split from how much come his balls pumped through it.

And Eddie made it last, too. Worked him through it until his stroking stilled altogether, and he was only holding Steve’s cock lightly while it twitched through the final aftershocks. He talked to Steve too. “So fucking hot. Look at you, Steve. You don’t even know how pretty you are, and you’re allll mine.”

“Mmhmph,” Steve managed. As it always seemed to be after sex, sleep tugged at him.

But he refused to allow it. He pawed at Eddie’s boxers until he found the in, slipped his hand past the waistband, pleased to find Eddie’s cock hard and leaking.

Eddie pulled his hand away. “I’m good. But thank you.”

“Why?” Steve’s hand twitched, eager to get back to where it had been. Was this more of Eddie’s teasing?

“We had a deal, and you held up your end of the bargain.”

“Yeah, but… that’s—”

“Not fair?” Eddie finished for him.

Steve confirmed it with a nod. “I don’t mind. Let me, baby. Seriously. What do you want? I’ll do it.”

“I just want you to lay next to me tonight.”

“Oh.” Steve was torn between persisting and accepting it. When Eddie told him he would bottom, he’d put up a fuss because he felt guilty. Like he was taking advantage or rushing him. But Eddie insisted, and it had gone well. More than well. It was perfect.

But now, if he got off when Eddie didn’t… it felt transactional. Like before. And he trusted Eddie to be honest about what he wanted or didn’t want, and he was thrilled at how open Eddie continued to be. However, it didn’t take away the guilt. He hated to leave Eddie hanging. Steve wasn’t into one-sided shit, as a rule. If Eddie truly didn’t want it, that was one thing, but if he was only declining Steve’s reciprocation because he didn’t want to hurt him… that was another.

“Steve?”

Steve didn’t want to wrestle with his thoughts internally, so he bit the bullet and spit it out.

“Sorry. I just—You’re sure? ‘Cause… I don’t know. That makes me feel kinda bad. If you don’t get anything out if it…”

“I got a hell of a show. I’m satisfied,” Eddie said, pausing before he added, “Seriously. Sometimes that’s all I want. Doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. Doesn’t mean I’m falling on my sword because I don’t wanna put you out.”

Steve mulled it over for a moment and eventually accepted Eddie’s words.

So much of what he knew about sex with Eddie was the same, but a lot was different too now that he knew more of Eddie’s history. And now that they were in an actual relationship. And there was still so much to learn and experience.

Eddie himself was both different and the same. Still rambunctious and flirty. Skilled. In control, but softer about it. More vulnerable. Comfortable enough to tell Steve the ‘why’ of everything. Instead of just shutting him down and out. Trusting enough to let Steve have control too when he wanted it.

This was a new thing. Not the same as paying Eddie for a blowjob and Eddie declining to receive something in return because he didn’t think he should want it. Or declining without any explanation at all, Steve left wondering what fucking rules he’d broken.

So Steve had to quit second guessing. Remind himself of their newfound trust. Not backslide into anxious spiralling.

“Okay. Sorry to keep like, fighting you on it. I know it’s probably irritating. I just really wanna make sure everything’s okay. Don’t wanna mess up.”

“Believe me. I’d rather you ask.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nodded. “I’m not used to it… but I do appreciate it.”

Steve offered him a smile. “You promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

“I promise.”

“Wake me up if you have to,” Steve said. “Always want you.”

“Steeeve Harrington. Fair of hair, sweet of heart.”

“If I’m so sweet, how about you finish me off strong,” Steve said. “Give me a kiss.”

“A kiss?” Eddie gasped. “That’s downright sick, debauched even, but I think I can oblige the gentleman.”

Eddie kissed him gently on the lips, then on the forehead and each cheek. Told Steve he loved him at the end of it all.

“I love you too.”

“And… I’m sorry,” Eddie said. “I don’t wanna mess up either. Maybe I should’ve said something before we started. If you’d rather we didn’t do anything at all if it was gonna be like this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Steve said. “Zero regrets here. I swear my dick is still buzzing.”

Eddie laughed. “So safe to say you’re good?”

“I’m good if you’re good.”

“Then we’re good.”

Tuesday started with Steve waking up beside Eddie.

Thrilling because Eddie was there. Not reading, but scribbling in a notebook. He had headphones on and a tape player much like Max’s resting on his chest.

Eddie didn’t notice Steve right away, so Steve capitalized on the opportunity to ogle. It simultaneously pleased and displeased him that Eddie always seemed to wake up before him.

Not that he had a ton of data on the matter, but still.

Eddie was in full concentration mode, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip in between his teeth. He would stop writing, then resume. During the pauses, he dexterously rolled and flipped the pencil all along his fingers without losing his rhythm.

Before it got too creepy, Steve broke the ice and asked if he was writing in his diary.

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve tried another tactic that didn’t rely on being heard over blasting music.

He walked two fingers across the mattress, stepped up onto Eddie’s arm and carried on across his chest.

Steve was close to giggling when Eddie greeted him with a grin and entwined their fingers together. He didn’t say anything but slipped his headphones off with his opposite hand.

Steve could never tire of Eddie being happy to see him, and he was more than fine to get the first word.

“Morning.”

“Sure is,” Eddie teased.

“Whatcha writing?”

“Ohh this and that. Lyrics. Campaign stuff. Lots of everything.”

“Cool,” Steve said. “Thought it might’ve been a diary, or something.”

“It is.” Eddie flashed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Wanna hear my last entry?”

“Sure.”

“Dear diary. It’s Eddie… again.” He fluttered his eyelashes and sighed mournfully. “I know last time I said I was totally done with yucky boys, but that was then, and this is now. I met this super cute one, and I really like him a lot. He’s sooo nice and funny, and charming. Exclamation mark. Nothing—double underline— like all the other losers…”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I wrote in mine.”

“Didn’t know your name was Eddie.”

“I was roleplaying,” Steve said, “And also… ‘really like’? I find that offensive.”

Eddie brought their entwined hands up to his mouth and kissed Steve’s knuckles. “Sorry, sweetheart. In all fairness, I did say you were super cute, and I don’t say that shit about just anyone.”

“I’ll take it.”

Eddie smiled. “So I take it you don’t actually have a diary?”

“I always kind of thought they were for girls, so no.”

“Uhhh definitely not.”

“You did a girl voice when you read your fake entry.”

“Oh, the voice was fake, not the entry,” Eddie said. “The voice was just to make you laugh.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say in one,” Steve admitted. “You know? Like what to write.” He had a feeling it would be exactly like writing essays. He had all these thoughts but couldn’t quite channel them coherently onto the page. Any diary of his would be a nonsensical, black wall of ink.

“Anything you want,” Eddie said. “And, if it helps, you can call it a journal instead, then you don’t have to worry about your dick falling off when you write in it.”

“Okay, I get it. Jesus,” Steve huffed. “I wasn’t trying to be like, rude against girls, or whatever. I was just saying.”

Eddie laughed. “Take it easy. Your opinion on diaries isn’t a dealbreaker, believe me.”

“Well, you never know. Any second I might open my mouth and say some dumbass thing, and that’ll be the time—”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupted. “First of all, your mouth being open can only ever be a good thing. Never forget that. And second, do you even know how many opinions I’ve yet to unleash on you? I guarantee you will disagree with several of them, and I have an entire doctrine, so get ready.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“You say that now.”

This time, Steve was the one to bring their hands to his mouth. It was apparent Eddie meant what he said about his open mouth being a good thing because he kept his eyes trained on Steve’s movements the entire time.

“Did you sleep okay?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked a few times before answering. “Not bad. You?”

“Is there anything I can do to help you sleep better?” Steve asked. “Do I like, snore or something? Move too much? I can try to stop.”

“Not bad for me is really good. Actually, I uh, I sleep better when you’re here. So.”

“I thought it was just me.”

“Nope,” Eddie said. “You’ll be pleased to hear, I’m just as sappy as you.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“That’s my line.”

“Still waiting on my shirt.”

“That’s in the works. Don’t you worry.”

Steve smiled. “Can I ask you a question? And do not say ‘you just did’.”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled. “What’s up?”

“Any chance you changed your mind about last night?”

Steve could tell the exact moment Eddie realized what he was referring to.

“You really are a horndog, aren’t you?”

“I’m 18, what do you expect?”

“Don’t remind me. I’m practically robbing the cradle over here.”

“Oh please,” Steve snarked. “As if 20 is so much older.”

“Technically—”

“Ah. I almost forgot. You’re immortal.”

“Exactly.” Eddie pointed at him. “See, so I might even be hundreds of years old.”

“Anyways, old man nerd,” Steve said, flipping the covers back and revealing Eddie’s lower half. “You letting me do this, or what?”

“Hmmm. Depends. What is it exactly that you wanna do?”

“What do you think?”

“Ugh, why does it turn me on when you’re bitchy? What is wrong with me?”

“Only thing I can think of is that you’re still saying words other than my name.”

“Oh, you think you’re that good, huh?”

“I know I am,” Steve corrected. “And don’t even think about making your hairbrush joke. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Ohhh. I see. So it’s your—hmm, let me see—third? Why didn’t you say so, cowboy?”

Steve huffed. “I’m not talking blowjobs, baby. I’ve been jerking myself off for years.”

“Fourth rodeo, then?” 

“I don’t know. Add two, carry the seven… multiply…” Steve trailed off. “Could be over two thousand.”

“Mmm,” Eddie said. “Don’t forget to add in the locker room circle jerks. Practices, games, then the just-becauses in between classes with all the different teams you played for… Could be three thousand, Steve. Even four. There’s simply no way of knowing.”

“Okay, now who’s being bitchy?”

“You’re rubbing off on me.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows.

Steve took the high road and didn’t play into Eddie’s setup. Even though he wanted to say not yet.

Instead, he stood up and directed Eddie to scooch further down the bed, so he’d have room to sit behind him.

“This is new,” Eddie remarked.

“Playing to my strengths,” Steve explained. “You sit with your back against my chest and it’ll be the exact same way I’m used to. Only thing is…”

Steve angled himself to the side and pulled Eddie against him so his chin was resting on Eddie’s shoulder.

Slotting together that way allowed Steve to see what he was doing. He could also see Eddie’s face out of the corner of his eye. Much better than looking at the back of his head. Also avoided the problem of Eddie getting too into it and throwing his head back into Steve’s nose.

“This is comfy,” Eddie said, settling in. His body relaxed against Steve’s, his legs loose and hooked over Steve’s calves.

“Mmm,” Steve agreed. He nuzzled his cheek against Eddie’s, and kept his left arm across Eddie’s waist while he moved his right to get Eddie’s cock out from his boxers.

Eddie meanwhile hooked both of his hands onto Steve’s arm and held him that way.

Steve started slow, working Eddie into full hardness and rolling his balls around like he had no intention other than to feel them.

He wanted to practice some of the patience Eddie had, make him squirm a little before he got into it.

When Eddie started rolling his hips into Steve’s grip, Steve tightened his arm across his chest. Adjusted his legs to trap Eddie further. It didn’t stop him from moving completely, but enough.

“Okay?” Steve asked.

“I’ll allow it.”

“Good, baby,” Steve murmured. “Don’t want you going anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on leaving.”

“What was your plan, then? Trying to fuck my fist ‘cause you’re too impatient to stay still and let me?”

“Let you what?”

“Let me get you off my way. At my pace.”

“No one’s stopping you,” Eddie teased. “Get me off.”

“Such attitude,” Steve tsked, letting go of Eddie’s dick.

“Hey,” he complained.

“What’s a matter? You don’t like being teased? That’s awfully hypocritical of you.”

Eddie grumbled and started straining against Steve’s grip, tried to lift his hips. Steve doubled down and held Eddie with his arm and legs even tighter. He couldn’t move at all anymore.

“So fussy, just like a baby,” Steve sighed.

“You—oh.”

Steve replaced his hand on Eddie’s dick to cut off further complaint. He kept his hand loose, so he’d have room to tighten it once he got Eddie closer. If he started tight, he wouldn’t be able to increase his grip without it hurting.

“Why so loose?” Eddie said. “Muscle memory from wrapping around your own girth?”

Steve smiled but didn’t let himself laugh. He was starting to wonder if Eddie could go more than five minutes without mentioning how big his dick was. “The jokes are getting out of hand.”

“I’d argue they’re getting in hand,” Eddie said.

Steve ignored him and kept jerking him, loose and fast, letting his wrist flick to allow all of his fingertips graze across Eddie’s tip. Much more effective than a tight, unforgiving fist.

Eddie strained again, and Steve tightened the arm across his chest. Again.

Steve was triumphant when Eddie whined rather than tell another smartass joke.

“That’s it,” Steve encouraged.

“Want more.”

Steve tightened his grip all the way for a few strokes, and Eddie moaned. “Fuck, Steve. Yes.”

Inside, Steve preened, but his voice was casual, almost bored, when he answered Eddie. “You like that?”

“Mhmm.”

He promptly loosened his fingers.

“Ughhh.” Eddie’s jaw tightened noticeably against his cheek. “Come on.”

“Something wrong?” Steve asked serenely, slowing his pace to borderline agonizing. He could feel the disappointment in his own cock.

“Stop teasing.”

“You wouldn’t if you were me.”

“No,” Eddie agreed. “Not unless you begged pretty.”

“Well, then.” Steve rubbed along Eddie’s inner thigh, up and down, dragging his fingers across the skin in lazy circles. “I guess you know what I want.”

“Please?”

“Seriously? That’s the best you can do?”

“You’re supposed to be showing me what you do to yourself, and unless you have a split personality, I highly doubt you do this.”

“That’s true, but then again… what do you know?”

“I don’t know how you put up with me,” Eddie said. “’Cause I can’t take this.”

“Say the word, baby. I’ll let you go, and we can just forget it.”

Eddie said nothing, and Steve laughed lightly. Not quite as gleefully as Eddie had laughed at him, but still. He was getting better at this teasing thing.

Steve crept his hand up Eddie’s thigh and took hold of his balls again for a brief moment before he went in for the kill. With one finger he swirled around Eddie’s cockhead like it was a clit. A trick he doubted Eddie would anticipate.

“O-oh holy shit.” Eddie arched back into Steve, both hands digging into his calves. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, Steve.”

“There, you go. That’s begging pretty,” Steve said. “So fucking sexy, Eddie.”

“Feels fucking—nghh.”

“That good, huh?” Steve angled his jaw to nab Eddie’s earlobe and suckle at it. At the same time as he tweaked Eddie’s nipple. At the same time as he switched from clockwise to counter-clockwise.

Steve did it for another minute more before he switched directions again. Eddie was a mess in his arms, whining and straining again, pleading. His back was sweating, sticking to Steve’s chest. His cock leaking in a never-ending stream that had Steve wondering if he’d have anything left by the end of it.

He was honestly surprised Eddie hadn’t come yet, but also not. Eddie was good at lasting. He deliberated whether to keep rubbing or switch it up.

Ultimately, he decided to switch it up. Finish Eddie off strong in the way he knew he could. Guaranteed success.

He brought his hand up to Eddie’s mouth. Didn’t need the extra lubrication spit provided since his precome was not in short supply, but he wanted it extra wet.

“Spit,” he directed.

Eddie didn’t hesitate or protest or question it, clearly desperate for whatever Steve was intending.

As soon as Eddie’s spit coated his fingers, he wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped it a few times around the shaft before he let Eddie have it and targeted the head.

He squeezed Eddie hard and fast, the spit and precome combining in a slick sound that always hit his ears just right. Hit his own cock just right where it was full and neglected, confined to his boxers with no friction except what Eddie’s back offered whenever he shifted.

“Fuck, Eddie, just listening to you is gonna make me come.”

“Could you?” Eddie grit.

“Didn’t even have to jerk off when I blew you,” Steve reminded him.

His arm was burning with how hard and fast he was stroking Eddie. Fucking insane. He’d had better luck breaking Eddie during sex. No way he was quitting, though. He’d switch to his left hand if necessary.

“That was so—ngh—hot,” Eddie panted.

“Mmm, tasting you was hotter.”

“Wanted to open your jeans up and lick you clean.”

“You know I woulda let you.”

“God,” Eddie whined. “Almost there, just need—”

 “I got you, Eddie. Come on. Wanna hear you say my name.” Steve pinched Eddie’s nipple this time, dug his nails right into the nub.

Eddie tensed right as wet warmth trickled over Steve’s fist and he came with Steeeve on his lips.

Steve bucked his hips a couple times, his cock catching on the notches of Eddie’s spine, and he was as unembarrassed as he had been the first time Eddie made him come in his pants.

He relaxed, let himself sag back into the pillows, and Eddie followed suit.

They stayed like that until they caught their breath, sharing the silence with Eddie nestled between Steve’s legs and wrapped in his arms. Steve stroked his hair and rubbed his chest. Couldn’t see what he was doing and imagined he was tracing his tattoos just right, or at least getting it pretty close.

Eventually, Eddie hoisted himself up and scurried to the bathroom.

Steve hadn’t moved by the time he returned, if anything he was closer to letting the mattress absorb him. The come in his boxers was tacky and uncomfortable, but not so unbearable that he was willing to get up.

Eddie crawled back into the bed and lay by Steve’s side, asked if he wanted to do anything or go anywhere.

Steve was content to lie there and keep Eddie company while he continued writing.

It wasn’t long before he dozed off again.

The next time he woke up, Eddie had him feeling like some sort of god. He’d brought him a couple of bananas and a bunch of grapes, a glass of water too. All of which he consumed with Eddie’s sheets wrapped around his waist.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Steve asked.

“I skip breakfast,” Eddie said. “Makes me feel sick.”

“Do you make up for it at lunch and dinner?”

“Yep.”

Steve frowned at that. “Oh yeah?”

“Usually,” Eddie corrected. He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be haranguing me about this indefinitely?”

“Haranguing? Like bugging you?”

Eddie nodded.

“Because.” Steve frowned. Wasn’t it obvious? “I wanna take care of you.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth before a blush spread across his cheeks.

Next thing Steve knew, he had a clingy Eddie lying on top of him and nuzzling into his neck.

Steve wrapped his arms around him, welcoming the weight.

“I don’t plan on giving in easy,” Eddie muttered, “but you can try.”

“If you don’t cooperate, I can always feed you like a baby bird.”

Eddie laughed. “My own words against me… you’re a quick learner.”

-

They were both due for a shower after skipping one the day before. Steve wouldn’t have gone as far as to call himself disgusting… but after two rounds of sex, and one handjob each for him and for Eddie, and all the travelling. Yeah. It was time.

Steve got to go first.

Steve’s balance wasn’t the best it’d ever been, and traces of his concussion lingered in the way noises entered his ears and how his vision sparkled at the edges, but he knew there was an improvement. The main change was not feeling like he was on the verge of tears. The effects of the beating hadn’t been nearly as drastic as the doctor said they would be. It was worse than any other fight he’d been in, but he was confident he was heading in the direction of healing.

Which wasn’t much of a relief because it meant he wouldn’t need to stay at Eddie’s much longer.

The stall was small enough that he wasn’t in danger of keeling over, but Eddie sat on the toilet seat lid to supervise nonetheless. He talked to him through the curtain all the while. Unleashed some of the opinions he’d warned Steve about. Light topics, mostly. Like how it would make more sense if an hour was one hundred minutes instead of sixty. How certain sodas should be drunk with a glass and ice, and others were tastier straight out of the can. Then the odd heavy one, like how Ronald Reagan was the real antichrist in America if they really wanted to give the devil a name.

Steve found it all wildly entertaining and informative because he knew so much about the devastating parts of Eddie’s life but nothing about the surface level stuff. He was holding onto every word like there was going to be a test on it later.

Eddie adored root beer. Hated the colour yellow. His favourite holiday was Halloween, and he loved horror movies—which Steve could’ve guessed. He hated Tom Cruise–which Steve found hilarious. Eddie also didn't understand how people could brush their teeth and shower at the same time because shower water was warm. Steve was neutral on the topic.

“And it doesn’t even save water,” Eddie griped. “Think about it. You’re just standing there ‘cause you can’t exactly soap up and brush at the same time, can you? And the water from the showerhead is obviously so much more grainy than the sink tap. It’s disgusting.”

“We could conserve water if you got in here. If you’re that worried about it.”

“It’s way too small for us both.”

“So?”

“Good point.”

Steve smiled to himself while he listened to Eddie undress. He made enough noise doing it even though he was only wearing boxers.

He slipped in behind Steve, wasting no time before wrapping his arms around him. His nipples hard and poking into his back, his dick against his ass.

“You should get the other one done too.”

“What?”

“Your nipple ring. Feels uneven.” 

“Okay.”

“Yeah? You will?”

“I’ll get it done same time you do.”

“Fine,” Steve said. 

“Are you serious? You actually would?” Eddie demanded.

“Oh for sure,” Steve lied. “Yeah, we can knock out everything at the same appointment. Your name tattooed on my ass, mine on your forehead, and hey while we’re at it why don’t I get a tongue ring?”

“I have so many scathing responses, but I can’t settle on one because my mind is just going Steve tongue ring Steve tongue ring Steve tongue ring.”

Steve scoffed.

“Listen, I know you’re just fucking with me but you have to consider it. It’d be a dream come true.”

“Keep dreaming, baby. I’d rather just tease you.”

“I know. The cruelties never cease.”

After only a couple minutes, it was evident that showering together didn’t conserve shit since they had to do an awkward dance to make sure the water hit who it needed to and when. 

Eddie was used to rinsing out his 3-in-1 as soon as he put it on, and Steve made him use his products and let them sit like the instructions said to. It took so long the water went frigid, and they had to turn it off and wait, shivering before they risked turning it back on again.

Neither of them were bothered, though. They talked, and giggled, and Eddie joked about how Steve’s dick was finally normal size because of the cold water. Eddie hugged him too, mouthed at his chest, and Steve enjoyed the sensation of his warm breath on his skin, and how Eddie’s own skin felt under his touch. All goosebumpy, but smooth at the same time. Eddie’s hair looked black when it was wet, and his eyelashes and lips shined from being slick.

“It’s a shame you don’t like swimming,” Steve said.

“Why’s that?”

“Cause you look beautiful in the water.”

“Oh please.”

“It’s true. Kinda devastating that you didn’t want to swim that night at my house. I could’ve found out much sooner.”

“If I was smarter, I would’ve taken you up on it. Then I could’ve faked drowning, gotten mouth-to-mouth from the captain of the swim team himself.”

“It’s co-captain technically, but yeah. You could’ve… if you really needed the excuse.”

“I don’t need an excuse now.” Eddie kissed him carefully on the lips, then again on the cheek, and again on his collarbone.

“No, you don’t.”

-

The rest of the day was nothing but hanging out with each other. Eddie noodled around on his acoustic guitar and played Steve a few songs. They worked more on tidying Eddie’s room. He was gleeful when they found his pet rocks. Then there was a pair of handcuffs, and a few stuffed animals. Endless amounts of trinkets and magazines, half empty packs of smokes. A few retired versions of Hellfire Club shirts. Some pins and patches that had fallen off Eddie’s battle vest. Crushed joints that Eddie collected and preserved for re-rolling.

Campaign notes for D&D, school notes. School textbooks that Eddie was pissed to find because not turning them in at the end of the semester had earned him fines he’d been forced to pay. Other notebooks he was pleased to find because they had more lyrics and song ideas, more D&D stuff. Eddie tore out a couple of pages from one because that’s all he used up and gave it to Steve. “Here’s a new diary for ya, go nuts.”

At first, Steve couldn’t place why Tuesday felt so different. Strange, but not weird. And then it clicked.

Steve had hung out with Eddie several times now, but only for a few hours at a time, in the presence of other people, or as a precursor or follow up to sex. Or some combination of the three. Only exception was sleep.

But never all day. Even the day he’d been released from the hospital. There were only a few waking hours when he added it all together, and most of them were spent in the hospital. And for that matter, it wasn’t even as boyfriends.

This was a full day. Just them. Nowhere to be, nobody to answer to unless the phone rang or Wayne woke up for some reason.

They watched some TV. Eddie had a decent selection of tapes, but they were mostly horror. Steve had to admit he wasn’t a huge fan of horror, but Eddie was cool with it. Said they could start on a beginner movie that wasn’t too scary.

Steve had to take breaks from it because either the screaming or the blood would grate on him, but he still enjoyed it, so didn’t want to quit despite Eddie repeating half a dozen times that they could watch something else. The other options were Labyrinth, and E.T. Which Steve considered to be horror films because of how much they sucked.

They got through it, and then Eddie rifled through the rest of the collection. He looked happier than a pig in shit when he found Terminator. “Look what we have here… Should I put this on for you and leave the room, so you and Arnie can be alone?”

“Yeah, actually, if you don’t mind,” Steve quipped.

Eddie rolled his eyes and put the tape in and came over to sit right next to him. “Fat chance.”

“Reverse psychology,” Steve said.

“How about you don’t get up and get us something to drink?”

Steve was embarrassed by how quickly he moved to get up since Eddie called him out on it.

“As much as I’d enjoy the view, you keep your ass right where it is,” Eddie said. “You really think I’d make you go get us shit when you’re under my care?”

Steve laughed and played it off, but the embarrassment niggled at him even after Eddie came back with the snacks and moved on from the moment.

Eddie had to keep harping on him not to push himself, not to do things that could be done for him. Benched from sex. Breakfast in bed. Riding shotgun while Eddie drove. Supervised showers. He loved the company, and enjoyed Eddie being nice to him, so open no holding back.

But he also had the most annoying brain in the world. 

A brain that liked to make him feel guilty for letting his boyfriend take care of him, but a brain that also yearned to be taken care of. A brain that wanted to revert to his old game: take up as little space as possible, have no needs, take nothing from anybody but give everybody everything to increase the chances of them sticking around. A brain that simultaneously recognized he was making Eddie happy by needing him but feared being a burden, needing too much, and eventually paying the price for whatever he took. No such thing as unconditional. Something he’d learned from his parents.

Steve eventually got over his embarrassment while they continued watching the movie. They each took an end of the couch and had each other’s feet in their laps, and when Steve absentmindedly grabbed Eddie’s foot to massage it, he learned that he was ticklish. Steve insisted he wasn’t trying to tickle him, and Eddie tentatively returned his foot to its position.

Steve started slow just to prove he wasn’t messing around, and Eddie relaxed into it. And when Steve stopped to rest his hands, Eddie would wiggle his toes and encourage him to keep going. It was a sneaky way for him to reciprocate everything Eddie was doing for him. And then Eddie caught on. Started working Steve’s feet, ankles, and calves over. And Steve was a sucker for it, kept stopping while he enjoyed, and then had to remind himself to keep going with Eddie.

“Want anywhere else done?” Eddie asked. “I can do your back if it’s not too tender.”

Steve wanted to say no, but Eddie looked hopeful. Like he genuinely wanted to.

And he remembered how Eddie had been on him after he stopped them from having sex, massaging his shoulders and kissing his back. Then again at the hospital helping him dress, and earlier in the shower... He had it in his head that he hated not facing Eddie, and he still mostly felt that way if he considered fucking or being fucked from behind. But when it came to this sort of intimacy, some of their gentlest and most vulnerable moments had been with Eddie behind him. And he enjoyed it. Enjoyed having Eddie’s hands on him.

He was getting used to just being around each other. Just hearing Eddie talk and exist in his space. Getting to observe him being himself and learning the details that people usually learned before they decided they loved someone. But it was like their thing to do things ass backwards. Watching movies and hanging out typically came before blowjobs and beatings and love confessions. But he liked it this way. He’d loved Eddie after barely knowing him because it was like he could sense who he truly was, pieces of it shone through the gaps in his mask, and especially when he had it completely off. His energy and his presence and his voice itself were more important than the details of what he was talking about or doing in that moment.

He knew Eddie liked metal, knew a few of the bands, a couple of songs. He knew Eddie played D&D, but had never seen him play when he was in his prime. Knew he liked fantasy books and movies, and sci-fi, but not which characters he preferred. Knew he was an amazing artist, and messy as fuck, but didn’t know his birthday or his favourite colour. Knew the meaning behind his most significant tattoo, but not the rest. 

Now it was only a matter of filling in those blanks and creating a clearer picture. Retracing his steps from love to like, and further strengthening the foundations of their relationship. Steve was a client, and a friend with benefits, then nothing, then a boyfriend. A lover. He’d passed go and collected two-hundred dollars, but from drawing a chance card, not earning it with invested time. Now he was taking his trip and enjoying the scenery.

“Hey, do you like board games?”

Eddie wasn’t fazed by the jarring change in topic and actually answered. “You mean besides D&D?”

“That’s a board game? Didn’t seem like one… Was there even a board?”

“That was a test and you totally passed,” Eddie gushed. “You’re exactly right. Some laymen might try to tell you it’s a board game, but it’s a table-top game. They’re two totally different things, and it’s very important you know the distinction.”

“Like the difference between thrash metal and like, regular metal?”

“Steve,” Eddie began seriously. “You gotta stop dirty talking. It’s the middle of the day. You’re insatiable.”

Steve shrugged. “Can’t help it.” Learning about Eddie’s interests and remembering what he learned was important to him. Really, all the nerdy shit everyone around him talked about all the time was important to him. Even if he didn’t necessarily enjoy those things, and if it was difficult to retain it all.

With his new notebook, he wouldn’t have to rely on memory. It was perfect. Not a diary or a journal. He could craft the nerd handbook he’d always wanted.

To add so far:

D&D is not a board game.

Metallica is thrash metal.

But that still didn’t answer his question. “So, you… don’t? Like board games?”

“Oh, absolutely I do,” Eddie replied. “You?”

“I think so.”

Eddie inclined his head. “You don’t know for sure?”

“Well, I only ever played Monopoly like, a couple times, and it was fun. But nothing else.”

“What made you ask?” Eddie stared at him intently, like he found his thought process every bit as fascinating as Steve found his.

“It’s kinda stupid.” Steve scratched at his head. “I don’t know, I was kinda just thinking like… we’re dating backwards. Right? Like we started here”—he raised his arm so his hand was in front of his face, parallel to the floor—“and now we’re like, hanging out normal. So, we’re here.” He lowered his hand to chest level.

“And that’s like, what? Drawing a card and advancing a space, then drawing another card and getting sent back three spaces?”

“Yes, exactly.” Steve smiled. “It’s all out of order.”

Eddie lowered his eyes and started picking at his nails. After a moment, he looked up. “And you, you know, don’t mind that?”

“’Course not. I think it’s cool. Like, we pretty much know the most important things about each other, so we don’t have to worry like, ‘oh is he going to find out I did this or said that?’ or ‘what’s he gonna say if whatever-whatever?” Steve waved his hand in a circular motion. “Now we just get to talk about first date shit. Have fun.”

Eddie brightened. “We’re courting.”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve agreed. “Courting.”

“Well. I have been dying to ask, and since we’re getting to know each other and all, seems like the perfect time...”

“What?”

“What’s your favourite colour? And do not say something like whatever shade of brown my eyes are because I will lose my mind.”

“How’d you know?” Steve made a face.

“You put the dick in predictable is why.”

“What does that even mean?”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know, just sounded cool.”

“It’s red, smartass. What’s yours?”

“And if I said pink because of your rosy cheeks when you get embarrassed?”

“I would say I’m changing my answer.”

“You can’t. It’s locked in. You already said red.”

“Who said it’s locked in? We never agreed to that.”

“I said just now.”

“No way.”

“I told you yesterday. You agree with me by default.”

“That doesn’t count. I never agreed to that either.”

“You boys bicker like an old married couple.” Wayne lumbered into the living room and sat down in his chair with a sigh, lighting up a cigarette and gesturing to the television. “What’s on?”

“Steve’s favourite movie,” Eddie replied.

“That tells me exactly nothin’.”

“Look at the screen and figure it out.”

“It’s not my favourite,” Steve said. “Eddie wanted to watch it for inspo. Says he wants to be a body builder someday. Just like Arnold.”

Wayne slapped his knee. “That’s a good one.”

Eddie scowled at Steve. “You can forget your back massage.” Then he muttered, “Ganging up on me.”

“What’s the plan for tonight, Ed?” Wayne asked.

“What do you mean ‘plan’?”

“It’s Tuesday ain’t it?”

“Oh shit, your show,” Steve said. “I almost forgot.”

“I already talked to the boys yesterday,” Eddie said. “We’re taking tonight off.”

“Eddie, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s decided,” Eddie said. “You need to stay put, and I’m not ditching you.”

Steve considered arguing that he was more than capable of sitting at a table and watching Corroded Coffin perform. He and Eddie had agreed they’d go back eventually, too. But after lounging around with him all day, he had no desire to go out at all. And honestly wasn’t sure if he could handle the sheer volume of their set. He wouldn’t stop Eddie, though, or ruin the night for the rest of the guys.

“I can be alone for a couple hours.”

“I’d stay with ya,” Wayne said.

“And break your number one fan streak?” Steve protested. “That doesn’t feel right.”

“I owe you a mug tour still, don’t think you’re gettin’ out of it.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie cut them both off. “Because I already said it’s decided.”

“All right, but if—”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay. Take it easy. Jesus.”

Eddie settled down, and cast Steve a sheepish smile. “Anyways. We don’t have a setlist ready, and we didn’t practice either. So, it makes sense to take a beat and regroup. We can get back at it next week.”

“What is the plan, then?” Steve asked. “Are we just gonna watch movies? Court some more?”

“I was thinking finish the movie, dinner, and maybe go through our games, see if there’s one you like.” Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Comments, questions, concerns?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Cool.”

“Just as long as you don’t expect me to let you win because you’re a newbie.”

“Just as long as you’re not a sore loser when I turn out to be a natural and kick your ass.”

“That’s it.” Eddie jumped up from the couch. “Fuck Terminator. We’re playing now.”

-

Steve annihilated Eddie in Battleship. It took ten rounds before Eddie finally conceded that it wasn’t just beginner’s luck.

“You’re sneaky as fuck,” Eddie complained. “Who puts all their ships in a cluster like that? You’re supposed to spread them out.”

“Exactly,” Steve said. “You’d think you would’ve caught on after the first three times.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you would want me to think, so then you’d switch it up to throw me off.”

“That’s what I thought you’d think I wanted you to think.”

“Strategic son-of-a-bitch,” Eddie muttered.

“Let’s try something else,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, kick me when I’m down.”

“Pick one I’d be bad at.”

“I fear that doesn’t exist. You’re goddamn good at everything.”

It turned out Steve wasn’t good at Trivial Pursuit. At least not in all of the categories. He and Eddie were more on equal footing since Steve owned the Sports and Leisure category and was able to get bits and pieces of the rest. History was his second-best section. Entertainment was Eddie’s best category no contest. Art and Literature was his second. The other categories had them evenly weighted. Each of them knew some of the answers some of the time. So it came down to the dice.

Dice seemed to favour Steve, so he won their first round by the skin of his teeth.

Then Wayne decided he was going to play, and he didn’t even give Steve or Eddie a chance. He cleaned up in every single category.

“I still think you technically won, Steve,” Eddie said.

“How you figure that?” Wayne asked.

“It’s cheating if you were actually there when all that shit took place,” he explained. “You should be disqualified on grounds of being old.”

“Don’t be a poor sport, Ed.” Wayne waved him off. “You know better ‘n that.”

“I’m just saying.” Eddie held his hands up.

Steve decided he liked board games but didn’t have the desire to sit and play for more than a couple hours at a time, so they elected to save the rest of the games for the next day. They rematched in Battleship one final time—Steve won—while Wayne started dinner.

Afterward, they restarted Terminator and watched it until it was time for Wayne to leave. They even managed to finish it before they started necking and took it back to the bedroom. Back to Eddie’s bed where Steve showed Eddie with his body just how lovely he thought the day they shared was.

The next day was more of the same, except they had to cut their afternoon of board games short to go to the Byers-Hopper household for D&D. 

Steve didn’t want to be outnumbered by the members of the group who fell in the ‘16 and under’ category, or outnumbered by the members of the group in general, so he invited Robin. For additional backup, he also suggested she invite Chrissy and Vickie.

The phone call turned out to be futile because Eddie had already invited Chrissy who’d invited Robin, and Vickie was out of town.

Steve felt well enough to drive, so they took the BMW to fetch Robin then Chrissy and Eddie navigated the rest of the way to Will’s.

They were the first ones there. Joyce answered the door and yelled for Will who practically tackled Eddie.

“You’re here, thank god.” Will glanced at Chrissy and Robin in panic.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie assured. “They’re only spectating.”

“And Steve?” Will demanded, more serious than Steve had ever seen him.

“Same. Consider me moral support. You’re gonna do great.”

Will’s expression softened momentarily before he turned to Eddie, frenzied once more. “I need your opinion.”

“Then my opinion you shall have, Master.” Eddie bowed, and they were off to solve whatever crisis Will was having.

Joyce looked after Will sympathetically. “Poor thing has been a wreck all day. Hell, yesterday too.” She raised her hands. “What can ya do? They get so into it, you know? I don’t really understand it myself.”

“Totally,” Robin agreed.

Steve, Chrissy, and Robin stood around Joyce awkwardly.

“Well, you three make yourselves at home.” She gestured widely. “I’m off to work. Hop and Jon’ll be home later, so...”

“We’re in charge?” Steve guessed.

“As much as you can be,” Joyce said conspiringly. “They’re unhinged with this game… like herding cats to try and get them to stop.”

Eddie and Will were a whirlwind, setting up. Steve, Chrissy, and Robin helped by staying out of their way and giving opinions on props and decorations when asked.

Eddie brought enough bags to open a luggage store. He had his own duffel bag full and had commandeered Steve’s too. Props, snacks, candles, cassette tapes all labelled D&D Mix only differentiated with campaign titles and years.

The rest of the group arrived individually or in pairs. Some dropped off by parents, some having ridden their bikes.

It was easy to differentiate the core members from the guests because of the t-shirts. Will distinguished himself even more, in full costume. A purple cloak and matching hat that Eddie had marvelled at the second Will emerged from his room with it on. Erica had an American flag wrapped around her shoulders that nobody questioned but caused Steve and Robin to exchange a sidelong glance.

Will had a hell of a time wrangling the session into order, despite his costume that commanded attention all on its own. The kids were so excited, they couldn’t calm down and Eddie was antsy, constantly leaning forward and back, opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to get in there and take over.

The kids couldn’t be given an inch because they’d take ten miles. They needed to be told to shut up once in a while. Steve was tempted to intervene, unsure if Will would get everyone to heel since he was so mild-mannered.

He didn’t want to embarrass him, though. If Will wanted to prove himself as a worthy leader, he’d have to sink or swim.

“Silence!” Will boomed, his exclamation shocking in volume and depth. He surveyed the group with a brooding stare. “Let’s begin.”

Steve clocked Will when he discreetly looked at Eddie with wide, uncertain eyes. Eddie nodded at him, and Will nodded in return.

Then they descended. Joyce calling them unhinged was an understatement. The lunchtime game had been one thing, but Steve realized he hadn’t seen shit. Not confined by time or the drama room, the group became animals. Not even paying any mind to the presence of their guests, like Steve assumed they might have. They were not shy. El was the only quiet one, but so intense that it took nothing away from her energy.

Most of the time the players didn’t even sit. Dustin, as adamant as he’d been to have Steve sit next him stopped speaking to him about ten minutes in.

Steve was fine with it and thankful he’d invited Robin. He needed her.

The entire game became a running commentary between the two of them that they didn’t even bother hushing because the screeches and shouts from the actual players drowned everything else out.

“Steve? Is he… drinking Mountain Dew out of a chalice?”

He looked over to Eddie, then back. “Yeah… Yeah, I think he is.”

“Oh my god.” Robin raised her eyebrows and made a disgusted face. “Do you not question your taste for a single moment?”

“Your girlfriend seems to like him fine.”

Chrissy was getting into the game, even as a spectator, glued to Eddie’s side. Even though Steve noticed her noticing Robin. Every ten seconds.

“Well… we’re not technically—I mean, we never said that, but…”

“But she slept over, and you went on a date last night, and you’re gonna tell your mom about her.”

“Okay, yeah,” she admitted, blush spreading across her cheeks. She ducked her head, flustered. “But you know, still. It’s not official, or anything.”

“Mhmm.” Steve rolled his eyes. “And you call me the dingus?”

“What? We never actually said the word girlfriend. And she might change her mind.”

“Why would she do that? She’s obsessed with you.”

“I could be a really bad kisser, or um, bad at other things. As things, um, you know… progress.”

“Hey, if you need advice—”

“Oh, that’s disgusting.” Robin scowled. “Like I’m gonna ask you.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” Steve raised his hands in front of him. “And you’ve come to the right place. I’m retired from the ladies, but that doesn’t mean I forget.”

“Like I said. Disgusting.”

Steve snickered. “I’m kidding.”

“You better be. Dating advice is one thing, but I don’t need you to tell me how to work with… well. You know.”

“No, I don’t know… Work with what exactly?”

“You know…”

“I really don’t.”

“Lady parts,” Robin hissed. “Jackass.”

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“You know what they say… if you’re not mature enough to say the word, you’re not mature enough to do it.”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Nah, you better not. We’re in a room full of virgins, their heads might explode if they hear—”

“All right, that’s it,” Erica snapped. “If you two got nothin’ better to do than chit-chat, you can leave the table.”

“See?” Steve whispered to Robin.

“Thank you for your intervention, Lady Applejack,” Will said. “Spectators, I’ll give you one chance to respect the sanctity of our chamber and continue to observe quietly, or you shall be banished.”

As if they were even bothering anybody when nobody had said a word to them for over an hour and the group’s combined voices made Corroded Coffin shows sound like whispers.

If it were anyone but Will…

“Sorry.” Robin and Steve said in unison.

“Yeah,” Steve continued. “Our bad, Master Will. We’ll just…” He rose from the table, making eye contact with an extremely amused Eddie, before looking back to Will and angling his head away from the table. “Banish ourselves before you have to.”

They slinked off to the kitchen and got into the fridge Eddie had stocked. Steve didn’t particularly like Mountain Dew because it was glorified battery acid, but he cracked open a can anyway for something to do.

Steve hoped Will didn’t take his disinterest personally. Will’s performance was fine, and he had nothing against D&D in general, but he wasn’t feeling the spark for it tonight. There was so much on his mind, and the energy in the room was overwhelming his senses. He didn’t like that Max wasn’t there, either.

It was easy with Robin, though. They picked up where they left off, and rehashing her time spent with Chrissy made him feel like everything was normal.

After he and Eddie left Chrissy with her on Saturday, lunch had turned into hanging out in Robin’s room, turned into watching a movie, turned into falling asleep together on the couch, turned into dinner, turned into Chrissy spending the night.

“She even skipped going to church,” Robin said. “Which is crazy symbolic, I think. But, yeah.”

“And you’ve been talking on the phone and shit?”

“Every day. We couldn’t see each other Monday, but then I sort of called her right after I got home from the movies last night…”

“Man, I’m impressed and like, confused too.” Steve shook his head. “Nothing but a peck on the lips. That’s insane.”

“I feel like I’m going insane.” Robin jabbed her fingertips into her chest. “She’s so… cute, and funny, and hot. And she made the move to ask for the date, but I was the one to suggest the movies—thanks to you. But it was only a Tuesday night, and isn’t Friday or Saturday like, prime time for dates? And then somewhere between the previews and the start of the actual movie—it was all a blur I can’t even remember specifics all I know is it was dark and we were in the back row—we both sort of moved in for the kiss, so that cancels out, and then she asked me to come tonight, although technically you did too, so is this even a date? And we aren’t even sitting together, and I’m in here right now talking to you, but I mean, I think the ball’s in my court now, right? And I’m fumbling it. I’m fumbling the ball.” She threw her hands up. “I don’t know how to smoothly transition into kissing more if you know what I mean. And like, what’s second date material? Another movie? Bowling? An actual sit-down dinner? How would that look? Two girls hanging out could be friends, or sisters, whatever, sure. But in a fancy restaurant, it might also be like, suspicious. And is she ready for that? I’m sort of afraid she doesn’t know what she’s getting into. Like, does she even think we’re girlfriends, or is it a friends-with-benefits thing? I don’t know.”

Robin was red in the face from her long-winded explanation, breathing audibly.

“You done?”

“Yes.” Robin nodded too many times. “Go ahead. Please.”

“First of all, love the sports analogy, but you’re not fumbling.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“What’s the second thing?” Robin urged.

“I don’t know whether she’s only into girls now, or both, or what. But speaking from experience? It really sucks to be doubted. Chrissy’s not stupid. She could’ve stayed with Jason, and it wouldn’t have been easy, but it would’ve been simple. She knows what she’s getting into, or she wouldn’t have asked you out in the first place. Yeah?”

“And, I think you’re probably right about the ball being in your court,” Steve continued. “Guaranteed she’s thinking the same as you are. Waiting for you to speak up about how far you do or don’t wanna go. ‘Cause who do you think was setting the pace in the only other relationship she’s had? Right, like you said. She asked you on the first date, but you decided what you actually did.”

“Ohhh. Good point,” Robin mused. “Gender roles prevail.”

Steve shrugged. “Not to mention, everyone goes out on the weekends. I think it’s like, extra serious to go out on a weekday.”

“God, I hate this,” she groaned. “It’s so much pressure. I don’t wanna go too slow and look like a prude, or go way too fast and freak her out.”

“Just do what feels natural.”

“That’s literally the worst advice ever. If I did what was natural I’d be tackling her every five seconds like an animal. A goddamn animal, Steve.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that, but love the energy.”

“Well, how is it with you and Eddie? I know for a fact you two are perverts. You mean to tell me you’re not jumping each other’s bones every chance you get?”

“You told me I wasn’t allowed to.”

“And I’m sure you listened.”

“Yeah, not really,” Steve admitted. “I mean, we can’t do everything we wanna do right now, and we still have a lot to learn about each other. It’s so new. But it is natural. And talking helps. We talk like, a fuck ton.”

“Me and Chrissy talk.”

“About what? Literally everything besides how you really feel about each other and what you want?”

“Maybe…”

“Seriously, Rob. Quit beating around the bush, and just—”

Robin snorted.

“Wha—” Steve narrowed his eyes. “Oh my god. You’re just like Eddie.”

“Oh, is he hilarious too? Devastatingly good-looking? Intelligent? I never noticed.”

“Why are you describing me?” Steve feigned confusion.

“Honestly?” Robin averted her eyes, then looked back at Steve while chewing her bottom lip. “I’ve been secretly in love with you all this time,” she sighed. “But I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, and now that you’re living with Eddie I’ve been rethinking everything, and I see what I lost.”

“Ugh.” Steve recoiled. “Don’t even.”

“You should see your face.” She clapped her hands together. “Too good.”

Steve shivered. “Anyways, pervert, me and Eddie aren’t living together.”

“What do you call it, then?”

“I’m just… staying with him for now.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Not really.”

Robin inclined her head. “What’s that face? Do you not like it there?”

“No, I love it. I don’t want to leave.”

There was no question that he wanted to stay. Waking up beside Eddie every morning? Just being around him. In the rare moments Eddie was quiet, or focused on something else. Wayne and the calm, quiet security his presence offered.

Steve never saw anything close to disapproval cross Wayne’s expression when he spoke to Eddie. Even when he said outrageous things or acted like a brat. There was some scandal in Wayne’s expression, mock indignation, but never disappointment. Always acceptance.

“Because you like being around Eddie, or you hate being around your parents… when they are around, that is.”

“Both,” Steve admitted. 

“I bet Eddie loves having you around, and you said Wayne’s cool with you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the problem? Could you not ask to stay?”

“What, you mean like live there for good?”

The problem was that Wayne and Eddie welcoming him into their home for a few days to look after him while he healed and allowing him to move in permanently were two very different things. Eddie’s comments about staying as long as he needed weren’t synonymous with a permanent invite, either.

“Maybe, or at least, I don’t know, you don’t have to go rushing home. Do you?”

The only reason they’d left his house was because Eddie gave them out to avoid lying in wait for his parents to return. Steve could face them on his terms, this way.

They could also avoid getting the living shit scared out of them when Steve’s parents barrelled through the front door complaining about the lacking accommodations of whatever hotel and yelling at him to grab their luggage from the car.

“I mean, probably not? But I don’t want to impose.”

“Hm, I see your point. Wayne is nice and all, but you two are nasty, who knows what he might witness?”

Steve doubted he would’ve been staying with Eddie anywhere if they’d started a relationship under different circumstances, so it would have been presumptuous to think Eddie wanted to move in with him so soon.

He and Eddie loved each other, had already been through so much together, but moving in was a big step. He wasn’t going to rush Eddie into that.

It would have been so nice if they could have a space to be alone without worrying about other people’s schedules, a place to fully relax and be together however they wanted, whenever they wanted. His house would have been perfect for that in theory always empty, huge space, a pool…

But going home was the last thing he wanted to do. If he went back home and endured his father’s wrath over the fight, if he continued to overlook the neglect… fine. But what about the rest?

His dad would have no qualms about berating Eddie the second he laid eyes on him.

Steve hated to give the scenario any attention at all within his mind, felt so wrong to think about Eddie in a negative light. To acknowledge the differences between them. Differences he’d let cloud his judgment before. Differences he knew other people could still see. Because as reformed as he was, he’d once been King Steve. He was still a Harrington. He knew how people thought, how they formed their opinions.

His dad would take one look at Eddie’s chains and black nail polish and have a bitch fit. Oh, and the tattoos…

Who the hell is this, Steve? What’s he doing in my house?

The venom his dad would spew, calling Eddie a bad influence, or worse. A freak. A weirdo. No good.

Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet if it was about defending Eddie. Even if it was against his dad.

And if his dad realized they were boyfriends?

Holding hands with Eddie in the city was one thing, to stand up to a doctor who wasn’t allowed to hurt people. And Steve wanted to be proud and fearless even despite the risk, show Eddie he was and never could be ashamed of their love, but this was his parents. Was he really going to come out to them?

He’d told Eddie his dad might not kick him out or hit him if he found out he liked boys. But what the fuck did he really even know about his dad? He might try to hurt Eddie with more than words.

How could he expect him and Eddie to have a good relationship if it was predicated on skirting around his parents? Sneaking Eddie in and out, only having him over if his parents were out of town? Eddie deserved so much more than being a secret, or the alternative—being exposed to Roger Harrington’s hatred.

Steve was in limbo. Not quite living at home, not quite living with Eddie. He wanted to live with him. If Eddie wanted it too, it would have been perfect, the only issue was where. 

The trailer wasn’t a long-term solution. Even if Wayne allowed it, the place was simply too small for a third person. Again, even if Wayne allowed it and teased and joked, Steve didn’t want his sex life to revolve around Wayne’s shifts.

His house wasn’t an option, or rather, not an option he wanted to consider. Whether his parents were home or fucked off, and whether Eddie was in his life or not, it didn’t matter. The vibe of the place was dismal. Felt like loneliness was sealed into the walls. Even without being under that roof, he could feel the oppressing weight of it all. The wondering. When his parents would get back, what kind of mood they’d be in, how long before they left again. He wanted peace from the quiet.

The only feasible escape he could come up that didn’t burden Wayne or rush Eddie or betray his relationship with him was finding a place of his own. Except was it doable? He was 18, had nothing to show for himself except an award for playing sports. A prospective job at Family Video. Some cash. And a car that wasn’t even in his name.

“Steve?” Robin prompted. “Come on, I totally called you and Eddie nasty. You have no rebuttal?”

“I—” Steve hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not really doing anything else,” Robin hinted. “Feel free to expand.”

The conversation held strong between them until they were two sodas deep, each, and they’d resorted to sitting on the countertops with their legs dangling against the lower cabinets. Steve laid it all out for her, explained more about his parents than he’d ever mentioned before. Explained what he wanted and hoped for and feared.

Robin encouraged him to be honest with Eddie about his feelings about the living situation. Which, Steve already knew but was grateful to have repeated for him. The same way he knew Robin knew what she needed to do with Chrissy. It was about reassurance not enlightenment.

He was going to ask Eddie to stay with him and Wayne at least until he could get a few paycheques under his belt and afford to rent an apartment. He could talk to Eddie. Trust him. It would be okay.

And if worse came to worst, or it didn’t turn out the way he hoped, anything, Robin said he was always welcome at her house. “My mom won’t shut up about you, I swear. Thinks you’re her long-lost son, or something.”

“You’d love me for a brother, be real.”

“Better you than your other half. I forgive, but I don’t forget,” she said haughtily.

“Oh please, you were thick as thieves by my sickbed.”

“This again? Dude, only thing thick about us is the knuckle sandwich he’s gonna get if he hurts you, and seriously? Sickbed?”

“That’s what it was,” Steve insisted. “I did throw up, if you recall.”

She shuddered. “That you did, that you did.”

They ended up planning a double date, so they could go out less conspicuously. He’d told Robin on the phone, but she was still shocked over how he’d held Eddie’s hand in public and got nothing but weird looks. They agreed that having dates in the city would be best. Not a guarantee of safety but less of a risk than being spotted in Hawkins. At least less of a risk than kissing in the back row of Starcourt theatre and hoping nobody saw…

In the time it took to plan out their summer social calendar, and discuss all of their problems, nobody had come into the kitchen for refreshments. Or to check if they were alive. Hellfire Club was still going strong, loud even from twenty feet away.

Steve doubted any of them had taken a bathroom break, either.

“Maybe we should go and force them to take intermission,” Steve suggested. “Joyce basically said we were in charge.”

“Eddie’s the oldest. He should do it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s more into it than the kids.”

“The way he was gushing over Will’s costume? I’ll say.”

Steve had to laugh. He wondered if Eddie had ever worn a special outfit to DM. It was imperative that he see it, if so.

They dug around for some bowls for the chips and pretzels.

“I thought I heard rats in the kitchen.”

Hopper stood there, carrying a few pizza boxes.

“Sorry—” Steve began.

“We were just looking for some bowls,” Robin explained. “For the snacks. Not snooping. I swear.”

“They’re in that one.” Hopper pointed to a cupboard.

“That’s a lot of pizza,” Steve commented.

“It’ll barely be enough. Trust me,” Hopper said. “Make sure you grab a few slices off the top, or you won’t get one.”

“Noted.” Robin saluted him. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve added.

Steve waited, wondering if Hopper was going to talk about the elephant in the room. Carry on with his questioning from Saturday, but to Steve’s relief, all he did was huff and say, “Just try not to puke on anything.”

He then set the boxes on the counter, lined up like a trough. He waited until Robin and Steve had filled the bowls and secured some slices. “Good?”

Steve had a full plate. Just in case for Eddie. Robin looked after Chrissy’s share.

“Yes sir.”

Hopper nodded before shouting, “Come and get it or I’m giving it to the dog!”

“Stand back,” he added, a quiet warning for Steve and Robin, “or you’ll get bulldozed.” 

The kids stampeded into the kitchen. Will took point, with Gareth and Mike close behind. Eddie and Chrissy beelined for Steve and Robin.

Robin stood straighter when Chrissy approached her, both of them breaking out in a blush. Chrissy gave her a quiet, “hi,” close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“Hi,” Robin replied, her mouth spreading into an all-teeth smile.

Steve would remember to make fun of her later for looking like a shark on the hunt. And for being an idiot if she thought Chrissy had any intention of cooling things down. She was acting like a guy, wide-eyed with her gaze trained on her face but twitchy like she was a second away from losing it and letting her eyes drop to Robin’s chest.

Not that he was any better. He gave Eddie a full-body checkout, and Eddie returned it and doubled it.

“Everything okay in here?” Eddie asked. “Any crises I should know about?”

“All good, as long as Will isn’t too pissed at us.” Steve was only half joking.

“No, if anything he’ll be thanking you. Telling you off earned him major cred with the Party.”

“Well. Glad something good came out of it. It’s humbling to get told off by a teenage nerd in a purple dress.”

Eddie laughed. “The power’s going to his head, I’ll tell ya that. He even told Gareth off, which… Let’s just say a couple hours ago never would’ve happened.”

“Damn.” Steve looked for Will over his shoulder. Even not accounting for the wizard’s hat, he looked taller.

“Is this for me?”

Steve turned back. Eddie had the plate of pizza in his hands. “Yeah, Hopper gave us the heads up, so I saved some for you just in case.”

“My hero. I’m starving.”

Steve refilled Eddie’s empty chalice with Mountain Dew.

“Ah, the sacred nectar,” Eddie mused. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“The pleasure is mine, sir Eddie.” Steve copied his accent and bowed. “Even though it’s an ingredient away from being rat poison.”

“Hasn’t killed me yet.”

“Key word ‘yet’.”

“You better sit with me when we reconvene, just in case I need some of that co-captain mouth-to-mouth.”

“I think I better,” Steve agreed.

“As long as Buckley doesn’t mind relinquishing you.”

“As long as Cunningham doesn’t mind relinquishing you.”

“I doubt it,” Eddie said, jerking his chin to where Chrissy and Robin had drifted off to. The very edge of the room, where they were picking at their pizza and giggling and talking like nobody else existed.

“I swear to god.” Steve shook his head. “And she thinks they’re not girlfriends…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, right? What do you think she’s been whispering in my ear about all night?”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t think we can judge,” Eddie said.

“No, we can,” Steve insisted. “It’s our right as their best friends.”

“Such a bad influence on me,” Eddie tsked. “Here, I was trying to take the high road.”

“The high road is for losers. I never travel that way if I can help it.” Steve maintained a straight face until Eddie’s laugh broke him.

Eddie was still smiling when he hid his face in Steve’s chest.

“Oh gross! Get a room!” Mike called. “Gonna make me barf, I swear.”

It was far past midnight by the time they dropped off Chrissy and Robin and got back to the trailer. The campaign wasn’t even close to being done, so the club had plans to meet on the weekend to continue.

Steve and Eddie spent most of Thursday working their way through the rest of Wayne and Eddie’s game collection. They’d burned through most of the classics, and there were still a dozen Steve wanted to try.

Playing with Eddie wasn’t exactly a controlled experiment because he was fun to be around in general, but Steve liked to think he could tell the difference between a game he liked and a game he liked playing with Eddie.

Scrabble was neither. That fucking game had risen from the depths of hell to torment him. 

Steve stared at an impossible combination of seven letters lined up on a stupid wooden holder. He kept reordering the tiles, but nothing was making any sense.

It was even worse because Eddie warned him it was a tricky game on a good day, and maybe they should save that one for when Steve was feeling a little better.

Steve was stubborn. How hard could it be? A lot of the games were tricky, and he’d managed. Concussion or no.

There was no such thing as beginner’s luck in this game, and he doubted being in perfect health would have helped him.

He had a total of thirty-one—thirty-fucking-one—while Wayne was over one-hundred and Eddie was pushing three-hundred. He’d tacked on XUBERAN between and E and a T that were already on the board, and got a bonus for using all his letters and had his X on a bonus square.

Steve took breaths to keep from flipping the board. He couldn’t blame Eddie for being smart, and as much as he wanted to blame the concussion. It was clear to him this game was not up his alley.

All he could do was add an S to an existing word and watch Eddie tally up the points…

Eddie looked like he was starting to feel bad, and it made it worse for Steve when the next turn Eddie took was adding ED to a word. He knew damn well Eddie could’ve played a better round.

Wayne had a good turn and earned a triple word score, and Steve concentrated on the board, willing himself to conjure a word and find a good place to put it, until his head felt like it was going to split.

A knock at the door saved him from further humiliation.

Eddie got up to answer it and trailed his hand across Steve’s back on the way past, and he instantly felt better. It’s just a game, he tried to talk himself down. But he was an athlete. A competitor. It was never just a game. If he had to lose to anyone, though. Better it be Wayne and Eddie.

“Who is it?” Steve and Wayne asked at the same time.

“Girl Scouts,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, we’re recruiting. Wanna join, asshole?”

Steve was bewildered over the exchange until he turned around and saw Joe and Charlie stepping into the tiny entryway. The first thing he noticed was the balloon in Charlie’s hands. Get well soon.

No cure for stupid, the voice in his head told him. He told it to shut the fuck up.

“You girls got thin mints?” Wayne asked.

“Fresh out, Wayne. Sorry.”

“Figures.”

“There he is,” Charlie said, laying eyes on Steve and heading over.

“Hey, man.” Steve got up and shook his hand, then took the balloon he was handed. “Thanks.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a balloon that wasn’t for decorating the gym for a school event.

“Good to see you vertical.”

“Good to see you at all.”

Charlie put a hand to his heart. “Gorsh, isn’t that sweet?”

“Steve,” Joe greeted, shaking his hand next.

“You guys didn’t say you were coming by,” Eddie said.

“Didn’t realize we needed a written invitation.”

“Yeah,” Charlie added. “We haven’t seen you in days. You don’t call. You don’t write.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I called.”

“Anyway, Steve can handle a visit. Can’t ya?” Joe looked directly at Steve.

“Sure, he can,” Charlie said. “Look at him. He’s playing Scrabble, for fuck’s sake.”

“Not well,” Steve said.

Joe laughed. “Not my thing, either.”

“Either way. Eddie made it sound like you were on fucking life support or something,” Charlie said. “Turns out you’re lookin’ perky as ever.”

“Perky?” Eddie said. “Seriously?”

“He could’ve come out on Tuesday. All’s I’m sayin’,” Charlie said. “You can’t hoard him forever.”

“Would you say that to Smaug?” Eddie crossed his arms.

“You did not just compare yourself to the King under the Mountain,” Joe scoffed.

“Seriously, dude,” Charlie said.

“Uhh… What the hell are they talking about?” Steve muttered to Wayne.

“Want the short or long of it?”

“Short, please.”

“Smaug’s a dragon.”

“Right.” Steve frowned. He had something to write in his new notebook at least. Ask Eddie what the fuck a dragon has to do with anything.

“It’s a compliment to you,” Charlie explained. “Dragons hoard treasure. Ergo, Eddie, here, thinks you’re treasure.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said with no heat.

Steve sat up straighter.

“Aww, he’s sitting pretty now,” Joe teased. “A little Air Supply works wonders. Told you, Eddie.”

“Please shut up.”

“Eddie wasn’t sure if it was too much,” Charlie revealed to Steve.

“I forgot to ask,” Joe said. “Did you end up nixing the Elvis like I told you?”

“What? Elvis?” Steve asked, looking to Eddie.

“Yeah… Your king,” Eddie confirmed.

“Which song?”

Joe and Charlie started singing, drowning out Eddie’s answer. “Wise men sayyyy, only fools rush in.”

“I swear to god. I’m gonna kill you and then myself if you don’t shut up,” Eddie bit.

“What?” Charlie protested. “He’s having a good time.”

Steve couldn’t hide his smile. “I do love that song.”

“See?” Eddie smacked Joe in the chest. “Don’t know why I fucking listened to you.”

“It’s not my fault your boyfriend has awful taste in music,” Joe argued. “I was trying to help.”

“Whether Elvis sucks or not wasn’t the point of the tape, jackass,” Eddie retorted. “I only asked if it was too much, not if it was good.”

“Yeah, and it would’ve been both. Too much and shit,” Charlie said.

“I disagree,” Steve said. “Nothing could’ve been too much.”

“Aww. I don’t know whether to cry or throw up,” Joe said.

“So loyal,” Charlie said. “Eddie, man, you better not screw the pooch here. ‘Cause I’ll be waiting in the wings.” He winked at Steve. “That’s a promise.”

Eddie smacked Charlie in the chest this time, and he wasn’t nice about it, either. “Stop.”

“Yeah,” Joe added. “It’s getting old.”

Charlie held his hands up. “You know I’m just messing around.”

“Well quit it,” Eddie said. “Steve’s too nice to tell you to fuck off, but I’m not.”

Steve did not agree that he was too nice. He would tell Charlie off he felt like it, but his flirting didn’t bother him. He didn’t really register it because he only had eyes for Eddie.

The tense moment was done with when they all nodded at each other.

And when Wayne said, “If you boys are just about done jawin’, we got a game to finish, here.”

So that was where Eddie got that saying from. Cute. The moment didn’t last, though. Steve grimaced. He’d been hoping Scrabble was forgotten. But alas, more suffering. With an audience.

-

They took the game outside to the picnic table since the trailer was beyond cramped with five grown men inside. Steve took the balloon with him which Charlie was gleeful about.

Eddie suggested they start a new game to include Joe and Charlie. Steve offered to sit out and observe, since it was only a four-player game, but Eddie didn’t accept that and had Steve sit beside him.

Eddie showed him a variety of combinations he could make with the letters available to them. Showed him how to read the board, so he could know whether he wanted to save tiles for his next turn or try to dump them all out. Showed him when to forgo a word that would earn him a ton of points and take the hit, so he could open up the board and give themselves more options to work with later. 

After a couple rounds of observation and Eddie talking his ear off, Steve understood it more. Could see it was equally about vocabulary and strategy. He didn’t like it, but he understood the appeal of it and enjoyed watching Eddie kick everyone’s ass when he wasn’t on the receiving end. 

Joe and Charlie stayed until the sun set, and they could no longer see the board. They left after making plans for band practice and for next week’s regular show. And for an impromptu additional show since Benny had asked them to be the entertainment for the Fourth of July crowd.

Wayne left soon after for his shift, and Steve and Eddie were alone once more.

“Wanna head in?” Eddie asked.

“Actually, I was kind of thinking we’d sit outside for a while.”

“Here?”

“If it’s okay with you.”

“More than, but hold on a sec, yeah? Let me go grab us some refreshments.”

“Refreshments?”

Eddie was too far away to hear.

When he returned, it was with beer and his lunchbox. He popped the tops off and got to re-rolling the joints they’d found in his room.

“Hey, you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Yes, I do as a matter of fact,” Eddie said seriously. “Questions. That’s where I draw the line.”

Steve looked at him pointedly. Really?

Eddie shrugged. “You gotta stop prefacing everything you say by asking if you can say it. It’s the perfect setup for the joke… You can’t blame me for monopolizing.”

“Fine. I’m going to ask you a question.”

“Better. Slightly,” Eddie commented. “Proceed.”

“Did you quit dealing for good?”

“Sure did.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“Is that sarcastic?”

“No.”

“Well, I was thinking ‘cause it goes hand in hand with everything… Figured you just wanted to be done with it all.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Eddie confirmed, lighting up a joint.

“Cool,” Steve said. “Not that it’s a big deal. I guess I’m just curious ‘cause it seemed like you did. I mean… that’s the impression I got.”

“Not a big deal, huh?” Eddie nudged Steve a couple times and raised his eyebrows.

“Very funny.”

Eddie chuckled. “Anyway, the impression you got is correct. All of that. Plus…” He took a long drag and exhaled his smoke for even longer. “I promised Wayne I’d stop.”

“He knew?” Steve accepted the joint Eddie held out to him.

“He knows everything.”

Steve blanked for a moment. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit,” Steve repeated. “That’s amazing, Eddie. That’s fucking… I don’t even know. That’s just awesome. I’m so happy for you.”

Eddie grunted. “Are you gonna say I told you so?”

“Obviously. Because I totally told you,” Steve said. “Wait, though… If he knows everything, why am I even allowed in your house?”

Steve knew to a degree that Eddie was open with Wayne, with how he’d told him not to give up on Eddie. But Eddie was clear that although his friends and Wayne knew about him being gay, they didn’t know any other part of the story. And if Wayne knew how his and Eddie’s relationship started, then Steve should have received a shotgun talk, not a pep talk.

“Well… I spared him the glory details. But, you know. I told him about what I could without smearing your good name.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know you haven’t told Robin everything about me. You could’ve. She’s like your soul-sister or whatever.”

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, thanks.” Steve didn’t know what else to say. 

It was a crazy, rollercoaster of a situation. As adult as he felt and Eddie seemed, they were really just kids. Steve knew enough to know he didn’t have all the fucking answers, no matter what Eddie thought. How to know what was right or wrong, how much of the truth people deserved to have shared with them, when it was okay to lie or keep a secret. But he thought they were doing okay at navigating the turbulent waters so far.

“No problem.”

“Seriously, though, Eddie. I know that probably wasn’t easy… telling him the truth. I’m so proud of you.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, thoughtful and hard-mouthed. Steve stamped down the itchy feeling that he’d said something Eddie didn’t like. That he’d been condescending to say he was proud. He didn’t regret it because it was true; he was proud of Eddie. For how far he’d come, for how he was starting to open up more despite how much he hated being vulnerable.

And instead of bottling it up or lashing out, he admitted it. Eddie risking judgment by telling Wayne the truth and receiving love instead. Steve found it inspiring.

“Could you imagine?” Eddie finally spoke. “Bad enough dealing to the kiddies when I was actually in school. Now? Shit, that would just be creepy. It was sort of inevitable that I go outta business.”

“Yeah, that would be weird. Never even thought about that. I mean, if you didn’t promise Wayne, I guess you could deal at the Hideout only, but maybe not everyone’s willing to make the drive.”

“You were.” Eddie winked.

Steve laughed. “What can I say? I’m loyal.”

“I’ve been saying.” Eddie tilted his head sideways to rest on Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

“I have to surrender my territory to Argyle, no matter how much it pains me,” Eddie sighed, lifting his head. “At least Rick’s cool, though. Didn’t care when I told him I was done.”

“Rick’s like, the guy you got it from?”

“Yeah. My supplier.”

“You know, when I imagine a drug supplier, I think of like, a bunch of dudes with motorcycles and machine guns. Is that what he’s like?”

“Nah, not even close. Think more, Hawaiian shirt and flip flops. Shell necklace.”

“Oh.”

“I mean sure, some of them are like that. But my connections are more casual in their disposition. For the most part, at least. So I can still get stuff when we require.”

Steve wondered about Eddie’s connections at the Hideout. If they would be as casual, or if they’d give Eddie a hard time when they heard he wasn’t available to them anymore. Eddie never seemed scared, not of Billy, not of Neil. joked that the guys would be on his side because they had fond memories of his mouth and wouldn’t want to see his jaw busted.

Steve wasn’t sure if Eddie could count on their quiet acceptance of the way things were going to be from now on. But he imagined it would be fine. At least he hoped. Steve wasn’t going to make the mistake of thinking Eddie had gone soft just because he was soft with him. He still carried a knife. And then there was Benny. Steve knew without having to ask that Benny would have Eddie’s back. And there was Wayne. As gentle as he was, he looked like he could be a scrapper, especially if it was to defend Eddie.

“Which is crucial to my existence,” Eddie continued. “I quit both my jobs, stepped down as DM and graduated that hellhole pretty much all in one week. That’s enough change for an entire year. If there’s one thing I’m not doing, it’s getting sober.” 

Steve looked down at his knees for a moment, thinking about what Robin said about taking his own advice. Talking to Eddie. But he’d said it himself. That was enough change. Would he be willing to make one more?

“And,” Eddie continued. “Last but certainly not least on the list of changes, I scored you. That’s major.”

“Don’t make me blush,” Steve said.

“But it’s my favourite colour.”

“Don’t make me argue, either.”

“What’s there to argue about?”

“I’m obviously the real winner here. You wanna talk about scoring? Getting you is a slam dunk, baby.”

“Slam dunk.” Eddie scrunched his face. “That’s… where you hang off the laundry basket?”

“What—oh.” Steve fixed him with a sardonic look. “Yes. When you hang off the net. Well, rim technically.”

Eddie snickered. “Hanging off the rim sounds fun.”

“It is,” Steve said, nodding seriously. “Takes a lot of skill to land a dunk.”

“You know, speaking of uh, laundry baskets and all…” Eddie twisted his rings like he was grinding pepper. “I was thinking about the cleaning and everything… That we’re doing, and you know, uh...”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying desperately not to jump to conclusions. He was already nervous from stewing about how to ask Eddie if he could stay long enough to save for an apartment, and Eddie’s apprehensive tone wasn’t doing him any favours.

He imagined what Eddie might be trying to say.

Something harsh. Like:

I lied when I told you your cleaning habits didn’t bother me. You overstepped, and I want you to leave.

Or even a gentle, if not passive aggressive: Sooo… How long before you go back home, do you think?

It would hurt, but he’d have to accept it. It was beyond reasonable. He’d never expected to stay forever.

But Eddie didn’t really do passive aggressive. Just aggressive. And he’d seemed genuinely happy to get his room organized.

“Okay, you know what? That was a shit transition,” Eddie continued. “I’m shit at confession type things. See? I knew I should’ve written it down. I don’t—ugh. I was trying to be smooth. Laundry baskets… you know? Like when I said Wayne would never let you leave if you cleaned, and that would be a good thing?”  

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve pounced on the opportunity to comfort Eddie. Nothing calmed him down like calming Eddie down. “You don’t have to confess anything. We can just talk. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

And please be gentle about it.

“You’re right. Fuck it. I’m just gonna say it.”

Steve braced himself, but tried to make his voice sound encouraging when he said, “Okay.”

Eddie nodded. “Well… I meant it. That it would be a good thing. I know you’re getting better, and everything,” Eddie started, “and you have a whole mansion to go back to. But I want you to stay. I love having you here. And I know it’s so soon, you could say whirlwind, in fact, but I think of watching you drive off and going back to those fucking douchebags. All alone, and it just doesn’t feel right. I’d totally get it if you said no, ‘cause it’s a fucking downgrade. But… I’ve been working myself up to say it all week, and I figured if I didn’t spit it out I’d lose my goddamn mind. And I mean, everything between us is fast, so I mean, it’s probably not the craziest suggestion. So whatever you say… at least I said it.”

“Why don’t we just get an apartment together?” Steve blurted.

“Get a—sorry.” Eddie blinked at him. “What?”

“I don’t want to go back,” Steve said. “I love living with you. I didn’t want to rush you into anything, either. I didn’t think you’d want—but you do, and that’s—Yeah.” He shook his head to stop his rambling. “So you want to?”

“I’ve all but begged you to stay, practically rolled out the red carpet… Do you actually think I’d say no?”

“I didn’t think. For once.”

“Moving in together kinda shoots your ‘dating backwards’ theory to shit, but yes.”

“For real? One-hundred percent?” His eyes prickled with happy tears.

“Was always my plan to ditch Hawkins the second I graduated anyway,” Eddie admitted. “Kept getting pushed back and pushed back every time I failed. So I’m fully prepared to move out.”

“Oh.” Steve gnashed his teeth. “I was thinking we’d stay in town. At least for now. I got the job lined up, and—”

“No, no, that’s fine by me,” Eddie said quickly. “I just mean I’m ready. And I think we’ve established that we’re pretty serious about each other, so… it makes sense. I think.”

“Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not like there’s a huge rush. I still need to save some money, and we’d have to buy like, furniture and shit. Actually find a place that isn’t a total dump.”

“Uh oh,” Eddie said. “You realize we have opposite taste, right? Maybe you should think this through a little more, Steve. Are you prepared to have a plaid couch in your living room?”

“I don’t care what’s in our living room. Only care that you’re there.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Yeah, hold on. Let me go grab a piece of paper. We’ll draw up a contract right now.”

“Rip it from your diary. Want it to be authentic.”

“How’s a page from my journal more authentic?”

“It has your essence on it.”

Steve cast him a bewildered expression.

“I don’t know,” Eddie bit. “Don’t you know by now I just say shit?”

“Ohhh I see. You were just saying shit when you agreed to be my roommate.”

“Roommate? Is that all I am to you?”

“Roommate with benefits,” Steve corrected.

“Define benefits,” Eddie said. “I want the contract to be specific.”

“Roommate who is also my boyfriend.”

“I accept your terms, Negotiator.”

Steve held out his hand. “Shake on it.”

Eddie spit in his hand and smacked it against Steve’s.

“Ugh,” Steve complained. “I should’ve known.”

“You really should’ve.” Eddie tilted his head and beamed at him.

They made it through two beers each and a joint between them before calling it a night. Steve was higher from the result of the discussion than he was from the weed. All day, he’d been nervous to ask Eddie to stay. Not only because he thought Eddie might say no, but because asking to stay meant disclosing his plan aloud. It meant he was finally facing the truth about how his parents felt about him and how he felt about them. It meant making a decision. It meant asking for help.

He’d offered to listen to Eddie, to love him. He’d imagined giving Eddie advice, being the rock, the shoulder to cry on. Sharing the load and fixing Eddie’s problems by working together. He’d thought good communication entailed Eddie being honest with him, opening up, or telling him not to push.

He’d overlooked the fact that he could show Eddie understanding and connection by sharing his own feelings. Communicating from his end. Letting Eddie be there for him too. And without fear of vulnerability, or backlash. Or rejection. Without fear that he was a burden. Eddie, like Steve, wanted the chance to support, not only be supported. And Steve wasn’t being unfair by sharing his problems with his boyfriend. He was being unfair by keeping them from him. Putting Eddie in the position to need without being needed in return.

They were far beyond quick explanations of how glory holes worked. No more half-baked, heat of the moment shit either like a hasty decision to change stalls. No confessions, but measured discussions.

Discussions of how they were going to be. How they’d fit together now that the crises were over, and they were in the scape of reality. How they’d strike a balance where neither of them had more power than the other.

Discussions of how they were going to decorate their living room.

As they made their way from the picnic table hand in hand, Steve carrying the balloon and Eddie the empties, Steve peered at Eddie from the corner of his eye. Eddie was already looking.

Steve knew Eddie knew without him having to say a word.

He squeezed Eddie’s hand and Eddie squeezed his in return as they walked to the trailer and went inside.

Together.

The next day, Steve and Eddie went back to Steve’s to pick up his straggling belongings. Things he’d left behind under the assumption he would still live there after his prolonged sleepover at Eddie’s.

From the moment Eddie had offered him to stay, Steve anticipated returning home. Why shouldn’t he? He’d lived there his entire life.

Now, it felt like wishful thinking that he’d see his parents again under their roof and talk shit out. Conditioned thinking.

It had been exactly one week since he saw his parents last, but felt like a lifetime. So much had changed.

He had no plan of what to do if they were there.

He toyed with thoughts of giving them a chance. Giving himself a chance to stand up to them.

He imagined unloading eighteen years of stifled loneliness and neglect, screaming in their faces. To what reaction? Maybe they’d be sorry or angry. Maybe indifferent.

All of it reeked of naivety.

There was only one reasonable answer to his dilemma. It wasn’t moving. It was moving on. Cutting them off. He’d made his decision already, which was why he drove his car and Eddie followed him with the van.

A waste of time even considering a confrontation since there was no car in the driveway. Proof his decision was sound.

From the street, he could see that the place was still standing. No broken windows, no pile of rubble after a freak explosion.

A small part of Steve was relieved. Misplaced, lingering responsibility; it had always been expected of him to keep the house in good order while his parents were away. When they weren’t away, too—just out. As if he were some sort of watchdog for the property.

He made a lousy one, considering all of the parties he’d thrown.

All the friends, and acquaintances, and teammates, and strangers. Enemies, sometimes. Nameless, faceless people, in and out. Using the pool, wandering. Plenty of drugs and booze to go around. He at least always locked his parents’ bedroom door and hid the important or expensive stuff, but anything could’ve happened.

He was lucky nothing had. At least not enough to leave evidence or get people talking. His parents had never caught him.

Rather, they never said anything.

He figured they had to have known he was up to something, though. They weren’t stupid, and neighbours were nosy. It had to be the same story as the drugs and the black eyes; it was the only thing that made sense. His dad didn’t care what he got up to as long as it didn’t taint the Harrington name.

Mostly, Steve thought his dad chose to dole out his discipline based on his mood and not the actual situation at hand.

Steve had tried it all over the years, performing well to earn favour, intentionally performing poorly to earn attention—negative attention was still attention. He’d tried laying low, barely speaking or doing much of anything at all apart from going to school, and then going overboard with chores and small talk, asking about his mom’s social life and his dad’s work.

Some things landed sometimes.

No answer more right or wrong than the other because he didn’t matter to them, barely existed even when he was standing right there.

His parents were in and out like party guests.

Instability was the only consistency.

He was forever battling the simultaneous urge to fall in line and to act out. To care more and to not care at all. Throw parties, or don’t. Keep the house spotless, or make a mess. Be a nerd, or a jock, or a nobody. Fuck it, fail school altogether. Get a girlfriend, screw around, or be a shut-in with no social life.

Get a boyfriend.

He’d always struggled, wondering if he had any right to be upset. Any right to be disappointed that he ate most meals alone, or that he looked to the bleachers at his games and had no one rooting for him, or that he couldn’t remember the last time his dad had spoken to him without disappointment in his eyes and voice.

His parents always had explanations. Reasons.

His dad had to work. His mom had luncheons. They were busy. And Steve wasn’t that talented at sports, and lots of kids’ parents didn’t go to their games. Besides, he was on so many teams… would’ve been impossible for them to make all of his games. So instead, they attended none.

You could’ve met him months ago if you’d ever bothered to come to a game.

It made sense on the surface, so he stamped his disappointment down.

Poor little rich boy making something out of nothing.

In isolation, with no point of comparison, how could he know for sure where he stood?

Sure, his dad had never hit him; they had money and fine things, medical insurance to pay for his hospital siesta; his parents went on business trips and vacations, not to prison. And they always came back. Eventually. Maybe that wasn’t so bad. Maybe he was spinning and twisting things in his mind.

You’re being dramatic. What? You’re gonna get an attitude just ‘cause you got your feelings hurt a few times? What a baby. A disappointment, the voice in his head supplied. His father’s voice.

Roger Harrington’s voice was difficult to ignore but not impossible. 

Not impossible now that he knew he wasn’t making it all up. Being dramatic.

He’d needed to be shown the positive to see the negative.

The way Eddie and Wayne interacted with one another; the way Wayne treated Steve—even before when he was a stranger—made it clear to Steve what he had been missing.

An uncle and a nephew—people Hawkins loved to call trailer trash—made more of a family than two parents and a son. The house wasn’t a home, only a place his parents let him sleep. And his parents were just people who decided to have a kid.

Maybe his parents didn’t hit him to hurt him, but they didn’t care when somebody else did. Didn’t care that they left him alone.

Neglect was insidious. The bruises and cuts from their lack of presence didn’t show on his skin, but they existed in his self-doubt and his people pleasing. Always striving to be a good enough, never disappoint anyone or rock the boat.

But he’d progressed enough to stand up to Eddie when he needed to. You’re not allowed to touch me like this anymore, not if you don’t mean it.

So different than you can do anything you want to me.

He was done letting his parents make him perform.

“It’s too bad I never got to meet the bastards,” Eddie said. “I don’t even know what they look like.”

They were in his room. Not much of Steve’s stuff was left. Clothes he hadn’t worn in years. Old awards that didn’t get spotlighted on his shelf since he had more recent ones to display. They hadn’t been doing much talking, since Steve was interested in getting in and out as quickly as possible, so Eddie’s voice surprised him.

“You’re not missing much.”

“I know, but I would’ve loved the chance to put them in their place if they said something untoward.”

“I bet,” Steve said. “School’s been out a week and you haven’t been able to fight anyone. Oh wait, shit, is that your hand shaking? Might be withdrawal.”

Eddie smirked and made his hand tremble. “Would ya look at that.”

Steve shook his head fondly.

“I need to get in someone’s face before I go insane.”

“You can get in my face.”

“I plan to. As soon as your stitches are out and your nose is tip-top.”

“It’s too bad there wasn’t some magic elixir that could heal me faster…”

“Steve, don’t talk like that. I swear. You know what it does to me.”

“And you say I’m easy to get going?”

“You are.”

“Yeah, but so are you.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“Beautiful.”

“All right, that’s enough out of you.”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “That so?”

“Yup.”

Eddie had no other comment except to hum and mutter something under his breath that Steve didn’t catch.

“What’s that?”

“I said, dating for a week and he’s already trying to boss me around.”

“Yeah, well, you were bossing me around before we were even dating, so… Making up for lost time.”

“You wanna make up for lost time, how ‘bout you come get in my face?”

“I think we should finish the packing first.”

“That’s not a no.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows.

“No, it’s not,” Steve agreed.

“Good, ‘cause something about your room riles me up.”

“Is it the plaid wallpaper?”

“Partially,” Eddie said. “Tempted to rip it off the walls and save it to match the couch I plan on procuring for our place.”

“The thought of double plaid actually makes me feel sick.”

Eddie grinned. “Besides the wallpaper, it’s the legacy of it all. The ultimate Hawkins teen dream, making it to Steve Harrington’s bedroom? That’s like the stairway to Heaven.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what scares me.”

“You know what scares me?”

“What? The name Eddie spagh—”

Eddie poked a finger in his mouth before he could get out the rest of the word.

Steve still said it, except now around Eddie’s finger, so it came out garbled.

“Menace,” Eddie accused, taking his finger out then obnoxiously sucking Steve’s spit off it.

“What’s so bad about it? It’s cute. It rhymes… Kind of.”

“It’s like the nickname equivalent to nails on a chalkboard.”

“You called me Steve-a, and I didn’t say shit.”

“Yeah, but sweetheart, I’m allowed to do whatever I want. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Double standards,” Steve griped. “You’re being so mean. I might even have to go write in my diary about it.”

Eddie came over to Steve to put a hand on his dick through his jeans. “Oh thank god. It’s still there.”

“Stop.” Steve bit down a smile. “So dramatic.” 

“Dramatic?” Eddie squinted. “There’s nothing dramatic about not wanting to be called noodles.”

“If you really hate it, fine, I’ll retire it. But you run the risk of my next name for you being even worse, and I happen to think Eddie spaghetti is cute, so…”

Eddie frowned, shifted his eyes left and right before sighing. “Ugh, I’m writing you into my character sheet as a weakness. It’s ridiculous.”

“Wait, does that mean… I can keep it?”

“It’s a nickname, not a dog. But yes. You can say it. Don’t overdo it, though.” Eddie pointed at him forcefully enough Steve could almost hear the finger cutting air. “And only between us.”

“Got it. For sure. You have a reputation to maintain.”

“Exactly.” Eddie nodded. “Last thing I need is them calling me whipped or some stupid shit. It’s true, but they don’t need to know.”

Steve approached him, placed his hands on Eddie’s waist and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry, baby. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh I know, ‘cause if I go down you’re going down with me, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled wide.

“How about I go down on you?”

Eddie hummed. “You’re relentless.”

“I’m whipped,” Steve corrected. “It’s like a—what’s the word? Ah, a mutual whipping.”

“Well, I think you’d have to be when you’re willingly downgrading from a mansion to a broom closet.” It sounded like a joke, but Eddie wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Baby, don’t. I already told you—”

“Remember what I told you?” Eddie blurted. “About my old man?”

Steve frowned, unsure of what Eddie’s dad had to do with anything. “What, that he’s in jail?”

“That, and he’d beat me into the ground if he knew I was gay.”

“I remember. Yeah.” He still didn’t understand what Eddie was getting at.

“It’s true. He’s not a good guy, and that’s putting it mildly,” Eddie said, worrying his bottom lip. “And I, you know, I still visit him. Couple times a year, me and Wayne go up.”

“I didn’t know that,” Steve said gently.

“Yeah, well. I’m just saying. I get it as much as anyone that parental shit is complicated. You know, and moving out is one thing, but excommunicating… It’s drastic. Not that I have anything against you never seeing them again—they don’t even deserve to know you. And I’m not saying I endorse tolerating how they treat you. Fuck that.” Eddie took a breath. “I just need to make sure you’re not doing this because you think I’d judge you, or hold it against you like it’s some, I don’t know, slight to me that you choose not to let go of them all the way.”

“Eddie—”

“That’s what scares me, more than that ridiculous nickname,” Eddie interrupted. “That you’re doing this for me.”

“Of course it’s for you,” Steve said, “and because of you.”

Eddie wiped a hand over his face. “Shit, Steve.”

“No, listen. I mean, it started that I was just scared to see them because I’d get in trouble for the fight. Okay? I admit that. Then, I don’t know, I thought about how they’d treat you. Not just for being my boyfriend, but for being you. I can’t stand even giving them the chance,” Steve said. “All of that was a good enough reason on its own. But then it turned into something else. Staying with you and Wayne… how you guys and everyone else treated me better in a couple days than my parents did my whole life. It made me see what things were really like. What you saw all along and tried to tell me that night.”

What he knew but still hadn’t been ready to accept. What he wasn’t ready to face even a few days before when he admitted to Eddie he was scared to call in case his parents didn’t come.

Eddie had told him that, but he had to live it to truly believe it.

And little by little, he had surpassed the mere awareness of their indifference toward him and reached acceptance.

He didn’t matter to his parents.

But to Eddie and Wayne. Robin and Melissa. The Party. Joe and Charlie. Even Hopper and Joyce who’d shown more of an interest in his well-being in a cumulative twenty minutes of interaction.

To everyone else? He did matter.

He mattered a lot. And they mattered to him.

“You know, my dad doesn’t even want me to work for him. Thinks I’m too stupid. As if I even wanted to, anyway.” Steve forced himself to keep his voice level. “Before they left, my mom said we’d celebrate when they got back. Go to lunch or some shit. You know what my dad said?”

Eddie shook his head.

“‘Celebrate what?’” Steve sniffed. “And you know what Wayne said?” Steve looked away from Eddie to gather himself. “He said he was proud of me. Barely even knew me, and—”

Eddie didn’t let him finish. He pulled Steve tight to his chest and held him the same way he had in his kitchen, when he first told him nothing could make up for what his parents didn’t give him. Steve wasn’t so sure Eddie was right about that; Eddie’s arms around him made up for a whole hell of a lot.

“I love you,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s shirt.

“I love you more.”

“Want you always.”

“You got me,” Eddie said. “You’ll have to kill me if you wanna get rid of me.”

“If you die, promise you’ll come back and haunt me.”

“Fucking right.”

They finished packing, brought anything Steve thought he might want and loaded up the van. Eddie suggested ransacking the house for things to sell, but Steve declined. He didn’t want to take pieces of his parents with him even temporarily.

When that was done, Steve crumpled the note he’d left for them with Eddie’s number and threw it away.

Steve saw it differently now. He wasn’t a coward, wasn’t sneaking off to avoid a fight because he was scared. He wasn’t running from his parents but toward Eddie. Running toward acceptance and love. It was prioritizing his and Eddie’s needs over theirs. 

He owed them no explanations. He didn’t need to stand up to his dad in an argument or try to prove himself. Beg for their approval. Didn’t need to leave another note they wouldn’t read.

All Steve left for them were his keys in the mailbox, and the car in the driveway.

He would leave his parents quietly. The same way they always left him.  

One Month Later – August 1986

The first apartment they looked at was a complete dump. Peeling wallpaper and a kitchen faucet that leaked so much it might as well have been turned on full blast. Linoleum flooring, not bad except for yellowing and the shreds in it from carelessly moved furniture. The entire place was as big as Steve’s old bedroom, but labelled as a ‘spacious two-bedroom’ in the ad.

Searching for two-bedrooms served the dual purpose of keeping up appearances and being prepared in case anyone wanted to stay the night with them.

The location was close to uptown and all the amenities. Steve could walk to Family Video if he had time for a forty-five-minute stroll.

The next was slightly better.

Steve wasn’t a fan of the textured burgundy and orange carpet, or the shit-brown wall paneling, but it was decent. No leaking faucets. Working outlets.

The unit was also on the first floor which Steve thought would be convenient.

“So, what do we think?”

Steve anticipated Eddie’s answer being something along the lines of you win some you lose some. Let’s get it.

“Absolutely not. You know how easy it is to break into a first-floor apartment? Even second floor if the robber is spry.”

“I’m guessing very?”

“You’d be very correct.”

“Okay. Fair,” Steve replied. Apparently ugly aesthetics weren’t Eddie’s biggest concern. “But why’d you even bother looking at it, then?”

“Educational purposes. Wanna see what’s what, price shit out to make sure we don’t get taken for a ride by some slumlord just ‘cause we’re young. Not a fucking chance.”

Also fair.

Steve sneaked Eddie a kiss for being so adorably street smart.

The third place fit the pattern; it was a dump.

The bathroom was tacky. Blue tiles halfway up the wall. Blue sink. Blue toilet. Blue shower-bath combo with some more blue tiles.

“You two brothers or something?”

The landlord’s demeanour screamed sleazy, beer gut straining his wifebeater. A permanent grimace and shifty eyes. He breathed down their necks the entire time they viewed the empty unit. Tailed them like they were going to shoplift the air.

“Cousins,” Eddie explained. “On my mother’s side.”

“Huh.” He nodded, managing to convey an expression of simultaneous indifference and satisfaction that he’d guessed partially correctly. Satisfaction that they weren’t homos. “Well, take a few minutes to look. I’ll be in the hall.”

Steve was glad to be rid of him. He hated to pretend, so was feeling prickly. He knew Eddie hated it too, but there was a time to be bold and a time to be quiet. It was counterproductive to lie when he was already leaving one intolerant household to avoid the acting… at that rate, he might as well have stayed at home for free. But posturing to some shmuck who could reject them and keep them from sharing their first home didn’t seem worth it.

And, he and Eddie were on the same side. Mutually deciding to hide their relationship from people who didn’t matter was different than one of them deciding on his own to make the other a dirty secret.

Eddie did a lap around the living-slash-dining-room-slash kitchen with his hands on his hips.

Steve tried to picture their stuff filling the place, Eddie’s posters coating the walls and a shelf for his trophies and their tapes. A loveseat rather than a sofa because he’d already clocked the stairwells as being narrow as fuck. No way they could get the proper angle even if they hoisted it over the railing.

“So whaddaya think, skipper?” Eddie asked, coming to stand next to him. He extended his arm straight out in front of his face then brought it far to the left. “What’s the vision?”

“I think it could work.”

Eddie nodded seriously. “Yeah, for sure, for sure… Maybe we could get bunks beds to maximize the floor area, then we could theoretically fit in a chair. If you wanted to get crazy with it.”

“Or,” Steve began. “You could hang upside down from the ceiling like a bat, and I could sleep in the bathtub. No beds necessary.”

“Very true,” Eddie mused, cupping his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“What are your thoughts?”

“Main thought is you look super hot checking out real estate,” Eddie replied. “Second thought? There’s no fucking way we’re living here.”

“What? It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Steve… Be real. Take the rose-coloured glasses off and stop being optimistic for like two seconds. I know it’s hard for you, but try.”

Steve scowled. “Do you really think there’s something better in Hawkins?”

“That’s in our price range,” Steve added before Eddie could give an answer.

“Simple solution. Let’s up our budget.”

“I’d have to get at least one more paycheque before I could swing that.” Between first and last month’s rent, and a security deposit, and whatever furniture and supplies they needed…

“You know I have money to cover it.”

“Yeah, but that’s not fair.”

“It’s not about fair.”

“We’re going halvsies. No question about it.”

“Halvsies,” Eddie repeated, sighing wistfully. “Anyone ever tell you you’re cute?”

“No, never,” Steve said, feigning a lip tremble, “and it tears me up inside.”

Eddie grinned. “You poor, poor thing. To be so… ugh. To be so, undesirable and hideous. I couldn’t even imagine the torture. My heart actually aches for you.”

“You wanna talk about torture? What about you?” Steve asked. “You know, usually in a couple one’s the beauty and one’s the brains, but you’re both. I mean, that pressure must get to you after a while.” Steve held his fist up to Eddie’s mouth like a microphone. “Any comment?”

“Oh definitely, Steve, and first I just wanna thank you for having me here today, and you know I’m so glad you brought that up. It’s sooo validating to have my struggles recognized, finally. Let me tell you. Being a genius and a sexy motherfucker on top of it all? Exhausting.”

“I can imagine. Are you ever—”

“You boys decide or what?”

Steve and Eddie whipped around to face the man, red-faced, Steve’s heart pounding as if they’d been caught fucking and not mock-interviewing like idiots.

“Thanks, but we’re gonna try somewhere else,” Steve said.

“What’s wrong with it? Best room I got in the building.”

Yeah, room was a good word for it. Walls dividing the space didn’t change the square footage. Small. And fucking scary that it was his best room. Steve hated to think of how atrocious the other “rooms” must be.

Steve glanced at Eddie. They liked to take turns when dealing with authority figures. Had a nice good-cop-bad-cop routine going on.

“I play a lot of heavy metal music,” Eddie told him, “and unfortunatelyyy, the acoustics in here wouldn’t jive. Plus my amps—how many amps I got, Steve? Four? Five? Anyway. I got a lotta amps, and the babies need room to breathe. I play metal, and not that light KISS shit either. I go heavy and loud, so I just don’t think this is gonna work out.”

The man couldn’t have looked any more disgusted than if they’d revealed their relationship status.

Eddie smiled the whole time they walked back to Steve’s car after being all but escorted out of the building, the man muttering the whole time about disrespectful youth.

-

They exhausted their options from the classifieds and ended up parking on the street so they could walk up town and find places that were unlisted.

Eddie swore by signs in the window and torn papers on bulletin boards. Said that’s how he’d found all of his guitars. And Joe and Charlie. Corroded Coffin had started that way. Word of mouth was best, but second best was the ‘non-marketed’ spaces. Couldn’t really trust people who paid to advertise, after all.

“Newspapers are for old people, sheep, and yuppies,” Eddie explained. “Which, synonymous if you think about it.”

“You read the newspaper,” he reminded Eddie.

“Yeah, but in an ironic way.”

“Sure.”

“It’s different,” Eddie insisted.

“Whatever you say, yuppie.”

“How dare you.”

“I’m just saying, you seriously need to get over all your rules,” Steve said. “You’re allowed to read the paper. You’re not like, conforming, or whatever.”

“Reading the paper without critical thinking skills is the gateway drug to being a suburban nightmare. I’m tellin’ ya. First it starts when you’re a kid, doing their little fucking word searches, and then you graduate to the crossword and nobody knows how to do those, and if you do you’re already insane which just proves my point.” Eddie stopped walking long enough to eye Steve. As if he was suddenly in danger of knowing how to do crossword puzzles… “So since you can’t do those, you flip through the rest of the pages to see if there’s any interesting current events and then gasp there’s an article on how D&D promotes satanic worship and the opinions section where every idiot in the town writes in their take on like, jaywalking and shit. Then before you know it, you’re reading the whole thing front to back on the shitter like it’s gospel. You’ll swallow anything they sell you.”

Steve sighed deeply. “Yeah, I see what you mean. The sports stats and the comics got to me big time, turned me into a real psycho.”

“You’re an exception,” Eddie reasoned.

“Eddie, you seriously need to relax about this kind of thing. Do you want grey hair at twenty?”

“If that’s the price of autonomy then I’m willing to pay it.”

They got so busy talking—Eddie got so busy ranting—that somewhere along the way, they stopped looking for signs of apartments for rent and just walked, enjoying one another’s company.

They walked past Melvald’s, past the dry-cleaner’s, and the convenience store, the bank, the Goodwill, an accountant’s, a Sear’s outlet. And the Hawkin’s Post headquarters which Eddie hissed at.

They discussed what they were looking for in a place now that they knew what they weren’t looking for. No panelling. No tacky colours. Absolutely no bugs, which was an obvious limit, but that Eddie insisted on because he’d had either cockroaches, or bedbugs, or both because his dad had them roaming from place to place his entire childhood. Said he’d rather live in a dumpster with racoons than have an infestation. Steve didn’t know bedbugs were even a thing beyond the nighttime jingle sleep tight don’t let the bedbugs bite, but trusted Eddie anyways.

They discussed how disgusting Chrissy and Robin had gotten. Even worse than them. Painting their nails matching colours or swapping clothes and jewellery. Doing each other’s makeup. Chrissy sitting in Robin’s lap while they spectated or played D&D at whoever member’s house. Steve missed the days when Robin needed his advice.

They laughed about Melissa. How she couldn’t resist Wayne and had weaseled her way into his life. Visiting the trailer park using ‘bringing Steve soup’ as an excuse well past the amount of time it would’ve been appropriate. As in, after his second week staying there. When his stitches were out, his bruises had turned yellow, and all the superficial cuts were erased as if they’d never existed. Evidently Wayne couldn’t resist her either, since he’d done a few repair jobs over at her house.

“Repair job?” Eddie always teased Wayne. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Oh quiet,” Wayne would say, blushing all the way down his neck. Even obvious on his weathered skin.

Steve loved the prospect of Wayne and Melissa getting together since he could tease Eddie and Robin relentlessly about technically being step-siblings.

They stopped at the bakery, the last building in the string of disappointments.  

“Call it a day? We’ll pick it back up tomorrow,” Eddie suggested.

“Agreed.” Steve pulled the door open for Eddie.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Eddie sighed, batting his eyelashes.

The sign on the bulletin board just inside the door advertising a room for rent was secondary to their need for sugar and caffeine, but they noticed it nonetheless.

“Should we?” Steve asked.

“Can’t hurt. We can leave the joint with coffee and donuts at least. More than we can say for the other… residences.”

Instead of ordering, they asked the woman at the register for a tour. Steve didn’t expect anything from it since the other tours had been fruitless, but he adopted Eddie’s perspective. It was research if nothing else.

The woman got someone from the back to cover for her, and then led them outside to the stairs at the side of the building.

The apartment’s layout and colour scheme weren’t winning awards. Carpets to baseboards to walls to ceilings, it was decent. Nothing visibly broken. No stench. The only smell came from the bakery, an aroma more than anything. An actual view out the windows. And no more blue than was expected. A respectable amount.

It was actually… good?

“How hasn’t this place been scooped up?” Eddie asked her. “There’s gotta be something wrong with it.”

Steve was wondering the same thing, had been working himself up to ask, but had learned from Eddie not to give it away when you were extremely interested. That way you could barter without the seller using your desire against you.

“We just put the sign up this morning,” the woman defended. “You’re only the third tour I’ve given.”

“Hmm.” Eddie looked to Steve. “Bad sign.”

“It’s newly renovated. Not like the building on Coronation.”

That was the first place they’d looked, and she was right. It was ancient. Even if it was more affordable.

“It also wasn’t hotter than satan’s ass in the room we looked at.” Eddie smiled at her. “Those ovens downstairs, I bet. Generating a lot of heat.”

“There’s lots of windows, and it is spacious. You get the whole upstairs to yourselves. It used to be an attic.”

“Oh shit, then it’s probably haunted. Did someone die up here?”

Her eyes widened. “W-what makes you say that?”

“I have a sense for these things.”

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I-I’ll give you two a minute.”

Once her back was turned, Eddie pumped his arm.

“So what do you think… roommate?” Eddie asked when she was fully out of the room.

“Haunted?”

“Besides that.”

“I think it’s awesome, but it’s too expensive.”

“I can get her to come down from three-hundred. Guaranteed. Between the heat and the alleged haunting? Please. She made it too easy.”

“Yeah, and that works like, monthly. I can afford that once I get paid again, but not yet. Not all up front.”

“So I’ll spot you some cash.”

“I told you. Halvsies.”

“Oh get over it,” Eddie said. “Pain in my ass. You’re so proud.”

“I’m not proud. I’m just not a mooch.”

“Nah, you’re just old-fashioned and wanna support me like I’m some sort of housewife. Is that it?”

“Oh my god. No.”

“Steve…”

“Okay, fine, maybe like a little, but it’s not like that. I just… I like carrying my weight. I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Riddle me this. Do you like this place, yes or no?”

“I love it.”

“So do I.”

“But like I said—”

“I want it,” Eddie interrupted, “and don’t you want me to get what I want? Don’t you wanna make me happy, Steve?”

“You know I do,” Steve said. “I’d do anything to make you happy, even though you use it against me.”

“I know. I’m so underhanded.” He reached behind Steve and grabbed his ass to punctuate his words.

Steve rolled his eyes. Eddie talked about their potential landlord being too easy. Eddie wrote the book on easy.

“What’s it gonna be, then, big spender?” Eddie continued. “Give up the best place we’ve seen because of misplaced macho pride and leave me utterly bereft, or give me what we both want and let me pay more than half.”

“Ugh,” Steve groaned. Whatever. He was easy too. And the place was the nicest he imagined they’d find. It was pure luck it hadn’t been rented yet. “Fine, but I’m paying you back every cent.”

“If you insist,” Eddie sighed. “How much do you need?”

After two weeks working full time at Family Video, minus what he’d spent, he had a little over two-hundred and fifty dollars. To afford half of first, last, and a deposit meant he should have three-fifty.

“One hundred. Give or take.”

Eddie pulled out his wallet, started flipping through the bills. After a moment, he thrust a few of the bills at Steve.

“Eddie.”

“What-e?”

“You don’t have to give your half to me to pay her. I’m not that proud.”

“I’m not. That’s all you.”

“How do you figure?”

“Eight hundred bucks.” Eddie squinted at the ceiling. “Five hundred plus one, two, three… No, yeah. That’s absolutely right.”

“Eddie.”

“Steve.”

“Be serious.”

“I’m being very serious. For once.”

“That’s your money. Not mine.”

“I told you I didn’t want there to be anything between us, and I’ve been thinking of giving this back to you since I gave you the tape. Before I wrapped it, I even had it in there. So… this is a long time coming. I just… I don’t know. Always felt weird or so like, in cold blood. You know? But now’s the perfect time. You need it for something we want. So why not?”

“I don’t—Are you sure?” Steve said softly. He did like the idea. Wiping out the transactional nature of it all. If no money was involved, it was like no mistakes had been made.

“I want this place. I want you. And you’ve already given me so much. Given up so much. I feel like I owe you everything I have,” Eddie said. “This is chump change in the scheme of things.”

Given up what? Access to a pool? A car his dad picked out for him as a gift then threw in his face any chance he got? He had Eddie. He had everything.

“You really like it that much?”

“Yes, and so do you,” Eddie said. “So let’s save the theatrics and just get it for fuck’s sake. Jesus.”

Steve laughed. “You’re telling me we need to save the theatrics? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Told you I was serious, and if you’re that worried about it, I’ll let you work it off.”

“Doesn’t that go against the entire point of giving it to me?”

“Shhh,” Eddie said. “Run with it.”

“Eight hundred bucks.” Steve whistled. “Shit, that’s what, eight blowjobs?”

“Or four good ones.”

“I’m a reasonable guy. Let’s say… Ten good ones.”

“Ooo, what a steal.”

“I drive a hard bargain, or so I’ve been told.”

It took the better part of an afternoon to get their stuff moved into the apartment, even with all the help they had. Steve had a few bags and a couple boxes worth of belongings. Eddie had dozens of boxes worth.

Then they had boxes that were both of theirs. Appliances and kitchen wares Melissa had given them. Stuff she’d been holding onto, unsold yard sale castoffs that she wasn’t prepared to throw away or donate. Mugs that Wayne especially liked, and gave to them as a housewarming. Joe and Charlie had tons of random shit too, mostly tech, like an old television that was so heavy Steve thought they were going to pull their backs out moving it.

The kids gave them tapes and books to add to their collection and took turns holding the doors. At least some of them did. Mostly they chatted and got in the way, or tried to go through the boxes to claim stuff they thought was cool.

Nobody stayed long, since there was nowhere to sit but the floor. Or Eddie’s mattress. But they stood around eating pizza and drinking warm soda, and it made for another tiring yet energizing day.

What they couldn’t get from their friends, they were keeping an eye out for at the thrift store. A couch and a dining room table, namely. And a bed.

Eddie’s was comfortable, but it had seen better days and was on the small side.

“A king won’t fit in here,” Steve said while he and Eddie stood in the door way of the master bedroom, alone at last, “but we could at least get a queen.”

“What do we even need a bigger bed for?” Eddie asked, turning to smirk at him. “You won’t let me get more than inch away before you’re pulling me back.”

“It’s not my fault you’re perfect for holding close,” Steve said. He grabbed Eddie around his side and squeezed him tight until all the air was out of him. Lifted him off his feet then twirled around with him for a couple rotations before putting him down at his “protests”. As if he wasn’t giggling the entire time.

“And, also, liar,” Steve said, “that’s totally backwards. You don’t let me get more than a centimetre away before you’re pulling me back.”

“My dignity continues to suffer. I should’ve killed myself the day you started on that Eddie spaghetti shit,” Eddie sighed, ignoring Steve’s callout of how he was the clingy one. “Now it’s Eddie bear, and ‘let’s go to bedward, Edward.’ And fucking Eddie Money, which is marginally better but still ridiculous because he’s barely good. And goddamn curly-cue which has nothing to do with anything.”

“You have curly hair.” Duh? What more explanation was needed?

“Ridiculous.”

“If it’s so ridiculous why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling.”

“You are. I see that dimple coming out right there.” Steve stuck his finger into Eddie’s cheek.

“Cut it out. I’m serious.”

“Hi serious, I’m Steve.”

“Oh my god. What do I have to do for one moment of respite?”

“Break up with me.”

“That’s obviously never gonna happen.”

“Then you’re absolutely fucked,” Steve said. “Sorry, Eddie bear.”

“You’re gonna be sorry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going to play with my other sweetheart and ignore you.”

“That’s mean.”

“I told you to stop. You didn’t listen.”

“Well for how long?” Steve asked.

“At least an hour.”

Steve scowled. “Tired of that bitch always hogging you.”

“How dare you insult the lady. I should have your tongue for that.”

Steve stuck out his tongue. “Here.”

“Now I’m playing for two hours,” Eddie threatened.

“Fine. See if I care,” Steve said. “I’m gonna go unpack the kitchen. And don’t come crying when I organize it all my way and you can’t find shit.”

“That’s the last thing I’d cry about. You could put the plates in the bathroom. Doesn’t really make a difference to me.”

“If that’s how you feel… See you in two hours,” Steve said somberly, turning his back on Eddie.

“Hey,” Eddie said, catching Steve by the wrist and pulling him back around. “I was just joking. I won’t actually play if there’s shit you want done.”

“No, go ahead. I was just teasing.” Steve smiled, rearranged Eddie’s hand on his wrist so they were holding each other. He brushed his thumb across Eddie’s knuckles. “Really.”

“You sure? I don’t wanna be dead weight.”

“There is something else you can do.”

“What?”

“Play the acoustic instead. I don’t know where the radio is, and I don’t feel like digging.”

“You got yourself a deal, sugar,” Eddie said in a southern accent. He kissed Steve on the mouth and walked away.

“Oh, and Eddie?”

“Ye-es?”

“I’m sorry I called her a bitch. Super uncalled for.”

“We forgive you,” Eddie said easily. “Besides, you don’t even wanna know what she said about you. She’s feisty.”

“Guess you have a type, then.”

“I do love things I can play with…”

“Okay never mind the kitchen for now,” Steve said, closing the distance between him and Eddie.

Eddie had the same idea. They met in the middle, then met on the floor. Eddie straddling Steve, kissing his mouth and cheeks and neck, all the way to his ear.

“I’m so happy,” Eddie breathed. “You have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Even after they tracked down the radio—and both of their stereos, and the record player… Steve opted to have Eddie play music for him instead. He’d become spoiled after spending so much time with him, enjoyed hearing Eddie’s renditions of all his favourite songs and the crafting process of new, original songs. It wasn’t like Steve needed to twist Eddie’s arm to get him to play since it was his passion, but Eddie still liked to tease and pretend it was some great task, sometimes even leaving his guitar case open at his feet with a piece of paper that said Tips Appreciated taped to the lid.

He played in bed too. At night when they were too tired to stay up and watch TV but too awake to try to sleep. Steve would lounge and listen.

This night, Eddie played a mix of his favourites and Steve’s, sometimes they overlapped but mostly not. He played “Let’s Get it On” to make Steve laugh, and a love song he’d written for him to make him swoon.

“Okay, that’s it.” Eddie yawned.

“What? I was just getting into it,” Steve said. “Encore.”

“I played like ten songs. That’s a full set, and you’re just getting into it? Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Usually when a crowd wants an encore they scream and beg for it.”

“I’m not a crowd,” Steve said. “I’m your favourite person in the whole world.”

“Yeah, and I’m supposed to be yours,” Eddie replied. “How can you sleep at night, using me for your own personal jukebox?”

“But you’re my bard. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

Eddie shrugged. “Was it? I don’t recall.”

“Oh come onnn,” Steve wheedled. “One more song. Pleeeaseee?”

“Ugh, that’s less begging and more whining, but points for trying.” Eddie rolled his eyes, biting his bottom lip.

Steve could always tell when Eddie was trying not to smile.

Eddie strummed a chord, and Steve called him, “Good boy,” to see him blush. Something Eddie couldn’t hide.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie muttered, continuing to play as Steve knew he would.

Some songs didn’t sound as great without the electric guitar or the accompaniments, but every time Eddie played “Head over Heels” for Steve, it hit the same way. Whether it was on his acoustic guitar, just them two for an audience, or whether it was at the Hideout in front of a couple dozen people. Or whether he was whispering lyrics a cappella in Steve’s ear when he felt particularly sappy.

The first time Eddie played it was their first night back at the Hideout. Not a metal cover version, either, but nobody was sober enough to notice or care. The other members of Corroded Coffin were the only ones who seemed to have any issue with it and grumbled at length after the show was done. Steve was too happy to let it get to him.

Too happy because it was the first time being at the Hideout and knowing where he stood with Eddie.

Whenever he’d been to the Hideout before, nervousness plagued him. Anxiousness to see Eddie in or out of the stall, encroach on his territory even with Chrissy, Robin, and Vickie at his side. Even when he was invited to the graduation get-together and still felt like he was intruding.

It was also the first time being there since the fight, and he anticipated discomfort, but rolling up to the shabby building in the front seat of Eddie’s van, arriving at the same time, on the same page… They’d successfully reclaimed their space and the potential to rewrite bad memories. They didn’t need to stay away. No amount of Gareth’s bitching could undermine that.

Once Eddie got past the intro, Steve sat up, so he could have a better view. Eddie’s fingers mesmerized Steve, as did his blended expression of focus and ease. Because Eddie made playing guitar look easy, as relaxed and confident as he was, but his eyes got a certain cast to them when he played. Like he was seeing another plane, another world, at the same time as he sat in this one.

“Fancy fingers,” Steve called him. One of the only nicknames that Eddie admitted to loving—Steve knew Eddie loved them all.

Eddie smiled around the lyrics he was singing, and when it got to a part that was only melody, he spoke, “Don’t throw off my rhythm, sweetheart.”

As if anything could. Eddie played flawlessly through anything. Low-grade barfights and loud laughter or complaining when people lost at their games of pool or darts.

Steve could practically feel the devil horns growing out of his head when the idea, the memory, entered his head.

Eddie continued playing while Steve moved to straddle his legs. Curiosity coloured his expression, though.

When Steve pulled down his boxers, Eddie stopped. “Now this is what I call an encore.” He made to put his guitar to the side.

“Don’t stop,” Steve instructed. “I’m gonna play too.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie said, clutching his guitar closer. “What are you gonna play?

“You. Obviously,” Steve said. “You keep going, and I’ll try to get you to mess up. Like we talked about. Remember?”

“I remember telling you it was a losing game.”

“But then you just told me not to throw off your rhythm,” Steve argued. “So it can be messed with.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you clever?”

Steve shrugged. “You down, baby?”

“As if that’s even a question.” Eddie scoffed. “What are the terms?”

“You start the song over,” Steve decided. “I suck you off while you play. If you make it through without fucking up, you win. If you fuck up, I win.”

“Music and lyrics?”

“Hmm. Music should be perfect, I’ll be more lenient on the lyrics. Wanna hear ‘em, but still wanna hear you whine.”

“I accept the terms,” Eddie said without hesitating. “And if I win—”

“You won’t. So why bother talking about it?”

Steve loved starting Eddie off when he was soft. Feeling him grow in his mouth gave him the ultimate satisfaction. Eddie’s cock was hard by the time Steve got to it, but not all the way, so there was still something to work with.

Eddie plucked away the intro, and hell if it didn’t impress Steve. Every time.

Steve lost count of how many times he’d blown Eddie since moving in together. But it was enough that he had zero doubt about his skill—or his gag reflex. He took Eddie to the back of his throat like nothing, not interested in teasing or drawing shit out. This was an attack.

Because he couldn’t see Eddie’s face, Steve had no gauge on whether Eddie was affected or not because he wasn’t at the singing part yet, and the guitar part was as flawless as ever.

But when he sang the first lyric, Steve heard the undercurrent of tension in his voice. Barely there, but there.

Steve was shameless, made noise and groaned around Eddie’s cock. Made it wet and sloppy. Let him know he was enjoying it.

The first sign of Eddie breaking was a sharp intake of breath. Not something Steve would have concerned himself with in most cases, but Eddie wasn’t trying to be quiet in most cases. So audible breathing was everything.

Eddie skipped a lyric, grit out, “Ah, fuck, Steve,” instead.

Steve tightened his lips around Eddie’s shaft and pulled off while he hollowed his cheeks. He hovered over Eddie’s dick for a moment, let all of the collected spit and precome drip out of his mouth and onto Eddie. He watched it run down from the pink head of his cock and down to his balls, catching in his hair.

He tore his eyes away to look at Eddie, holding his gaze long enough to see his slack jaw and rosy cheeks, an even more violent pink shade than his dick.

Steve smirked at him. “Just give it up, baby. I’m gonna win.” He licked his lips and got back to it, swallowing Eddie down before he could respond.

Eddie’s singing suffered, but he was still technically singing. Didn’t miss a note, and the solo was coming up. He sort of wanted to hear Eddie struggle through the la la la’s, but also wanted the satisfaction of not merely winning. He wanted to beat Eddie.

He pulled off Eddie’s cock again, and his first and last mistake was having the audacity to ask Steve, “Giving up already?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Steve ducked down, parting Eddie’s cheeks and keeping them spread with his thumbs, all his fingers digging into the meat of his ass while he licked from Eddie’s balls all the way to his hole.

It was one thing Steve hadn’t done before. Wasn’t consciously saving it for any special occasions, or anything. They’d just never gotten to it, since Eddie was always the one who wanted to taste Steve, and Steve didn’t have anything against giving or getting. But eating Eddie out did intimidate him. In case Eddie didn’t like it the same way, not that he’d said anything, and not that Steve asked. They were breaking in their newfound, constant privacy; plenty of other positions and acts kept them busy. It was a dream for Steve to experience Eddie getting more and more comfortable with him, allowing his hair to be tugged, letting Steve make love to him.

And now, Eddie was so comfortable with him, he allowed him to open him up with his tongue.

And not just allowed.

Eddie groaned like Steve was wringing it out of him. The guitar too, whatever note he’d been trying to play halted, ending in a clanging screech.

Keeping this in his arsenal worked out for the best, clearly. Steve wasn’t even satisfied that he’d won the game anymore. He was elated that he’d surprised Eddie.

Steve flattened his tongue and exerted more pressure, wanting Eddie to feel it.

“Steve,” Eddie pleaded.

The guitar slipped and bonked Steve in the head.

“Shit, sorry.” In an instant, it was gone altogether.

Steve yanked Eddie further down on the bed and shoved his knees back into his chest, then dove back in. Now that he knew Eddie liked it… He was going to become expert at it. Not to be outdone.

“Jeeesus fucking—ungh,” Eddie cried. “I’m gonna die. You’re gonna kill me.”

Steve shoved Eddie’s legs back a little harder, pulled at his cheeks with a little more force, pointed his tongue and went for it.

Eddie opened beautifully for him.

“I demand—ah, a-a rematch,” Eddie babbled. “You said you were gonna suck me off. I wasn’t—ohmygod—mentally prepared.”

Steve fucked Eddie’s hole with his tongue, all the while Eddie continued muttering and squirming. Begged Steve to continue, whined that he couldn’t take anymore, then insisted he could. Back and forth, like he was going out of his mind and couldn’t decide how he felt, only thing certain was that it was too much.

After it became too much for Steve, too, he gave his tongue a break, opted to mouth at Eddie’s balls, stroke his cock for a while. But that didn’t mean he stopped. He switched out his tongue for a finger, kept Eddie right where he wanted him.

The only downside to it all was not being able to see Eddie’s face. He sacrificed the best view doing anything that involved putting his mouth on Eddie’s body. He was getting better at accepting it, having started with jerking Eddie off with his back to his chest. Sometimes it was because they wanted each other in the middle of the night and didn’t bother turning on a lamp. Most recently it was Steve waking up to Eddie grinding against his ass and telling him to go ahead since he was still prepped from the night before. He’d fallen back asleep within seconds of Eddie finishing.

Steve was also getting better at treating Eddie less delicately, venturing back into the territory of dirty talk. The kind that wasn’t degradation hit the sweet spot for both of them.

Things like, “Fuck you taste so good.”

Like, “You make the prettiest noises for me, baby.”

And, “You’re all mine, Eddie. This is mine.”  He crooked the finger that was already in Eddie’s hole and picked up his pace. “Everything,” Steve said. “All of you. All mine.”

Eddie agreed with him wordlessly, pushing his ass down on Steve’s finger and nodding while a broken breath escaped his throat.

Before, Steve hesitated to act possessive, like Eddie would find it offensive. As if Steve thought he owned him. Now he knew Eddie adored it. Adored being Steve’s. And when Eddie the one running the show, he made sure Steve knew he belonged to him too. Wasn’t shy about it either. It was sort of their thing,

“Say it,” Steve directed. “Say you’re mine.”

“Yours.”

“For how long?”

“Forever. Please, Steve. More.”

“Good boy, asking so nice.” Steve obliged Eddie and put his mouth back on his hole, tongue slipping past his tight rim. He circled the muscle, pushing his tongue against Eddie’s inner walls and working against the resistance to open him up further.

Living above a bakery had the perk of having no neighbours. And after closing time, no workers downstairs to hear Eddie’s wailing. The real haunting of the second floor.

Eddie cried out Steve’s name, ragged and desperate, before he fell silent and still as he came. Still apart from how he arched his back, shoving his ass onto Steve’s tongue. Silent apart from the long, whispered inhale-slash-whine he made. Like he couldn’t fucking believe what was happening to him. He stiffened out, then fell boneless once all the tension from his body dissipated. He sighed heavily, his mouth agape and eyelids fluttering. Thighs spilled open, come splattered all across his chest, so much of it some of his tattoos were obscured.

Steve hummed. “Beautiful, Eddie. So fucking perfect.”

Eddie grunted in return.

Steve smiled at him, bent to kiss his forehead before he went back to playing. He wasn’t near finished.

He slid his hand across Eddie’s chest, collected all the come until he got to Eddie’s cock. Still hard, purple now. White streaks across some of his skin that made the shade lavender rather than violet.

Steve let the come drip down between Eddie’s cheeks, watching with extreme interest as Eddie put himself up on his elbows to see what he was up to.

Steve got his cock out of his boxers, made eye contact with Eddie for a check-in. Eddie didn’t stop him, only licked his lips, jerked his chin up.

It was smooth and wet, frictionless, when Steve pushed inside Eddie. He thrust shallowly at first, just the tip, watching Eddie’s face, watching Eddie’s cock, watching the rise and fall of his chest. His skin was splotchy red, beads of sweat glistening all over his skin. He held his dick in between his thumb and forefingers, jerking himself lazily in time with Steve’s thrusts.

When he looked like he’d gotten too comfortable, a little too bored, Steve bottomed out. He leaned forward to swallow Eddie’s gasp. He found Eddie’s free hand and laced their fingers together while he kissed him and fucked him and loved him all at the same time.

Eddie’s knuckles knocked into Steve’s stomach where he was still jerking himself off, and Steve rolled his hips down deeper so Eddie would have to give it up. Eddie took his other hand out from between their bodies, and Steve held that one too. Had both of Eddie’s hands up right by his head. He rocked into Eddie, his cock deep in him still, so they were just grinding. Steve’s abdomen rubbing against Eddie’s dick. It was his favourite position with Eddie, whether he was topping or bottoming. Left them connected at all possible points, mouth to mouth, hands to hands, chest to chest. Steve inside Eddie or Eddie inside Steve, sometimes he lost track of who was doing what because he just loved that they were close. No condom, nothing between them literally or metaphorically, in their own home.

“Love you so much, Eddie.” Steve kissed the words into Eddie’s mouth.

“Love you,” he said. “‘M so close.”

“Me too,” Steve grit. “You gonna come with me?”

Eddie nodded his head, sweat-slick forehead rubbing Steve’s, his bangs tickling Steve’s skin.

Steve let go, and Eddie followed, both of them panting in each other’s mouths, until Steve tucked his head against Eddie’s neck and shoulder. Eddie’s come was hot on his skin, and Eddie’s body hot around his cock. He started to burn up, the heat catching up to him now that he wasn’t distracted.

He pulled out slowly and rolled to the side, lying next to Eddie and now only connected by held hands. He enjoyed listening to Eddie catch his breath, feeling the bed jostle as he did his little stretches, flexing his toes and fingers. He always finished it off with a full-body shake. Said he had to burn off the last excess of energy.

Steve made to get up to go fetch a cloth for them both, but Eddie stopped him. Dragged him back.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not?” Steve eyed Eddie and yeah, that made sense. Maybe not a cloth but a full shower was needed in this case.

“Nope, it’s my turn now.”

“Your turn?” Steve questioned, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “As in you wanna fuck me?”

“You sound surprised, as if I’m not always up for fucking you.”

“No, I mean… How does your dick have anything left in it? You’re two orgasms max.”

“I know, so explain to me while I’m still hard.”

Steve flicked his eyes down to Eddie’s dick, and sure enough…

“Well, you see,” Steve began, “when a man gets excited, all of the blood rushes downward, and then—”

“That’s what the textbook will tell you,” Eddie agreed. “But what the textbook fails to mention is that your dick will defy the laws of nature when Steve Harrington rims you then fucks you with your own jizz.”

“Oh, is that what I did?” Steve smirked.

“Don’t play coy.” Eddie rolled fast and straddled Steve, pinning his arms next to his head.

Steve settled into the position, more than comfortable with Eddie sitting on him. No matter how far up his chest he was, arms pinned or not. Eddie would never hurt him—unless he asked.

“What should I play, then?”

“I’m playing now. Not you.”

“Go ahead,” Steve encouraged. “Play with me. Can’t be any worse than you trying to play guitar… or Battleship.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie’s eyes danced. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I did,” Eddie admitted. “But you know what, big mouth?”

“What’s that?”

“Nobody else is gonna hear you.”

 October 1986

“That’s a fucking foul! He totally clipped him on purpose. Is the ref even watching? Hey, ref! Are you even watching?”

Eddie’s voice carried throughout the gym, over the sounds of squeaking sneakers, the bouncing basketball. Over the sound of clamouring boys and cheering girls. I’m open. Over here, bro. Pass! Watch this! That’s it, Tigers! Let’s go, boys! We got this.

Without looking, Steve knew Eddie was standing on the bleachers. But not in the way everyone else stood, where your feet were supposed to go. He was standing on the bench level, the same way he stood on cafeteria tabletops. Steve knew his hands were cupped around his mouth. And he knew Dustin and Max were standing right next to him.

Along with the rest of Hellfire Club. Jeff, Gareth, Dustin, Mike, Will, El, and Max. Two new members who’d joined Hellfire Club, freshmen, John and Daryl. Robin and Vickie, honorary members like Steve, were in attendance as well.

None of Hellfire Club apart from Lucas actually liked basketball. But they liked Lucas, and they liked Steve, so they went to the home games. Although Robin claimed it was equally to watch Chrissy cheer and Steve coach, but her eyes were glued on her girlfriend every time Steve looked over. Even Erica came, although she claimed she was there for one reason, and one reason only. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to watch my brother make a fool of himself in front of everyone? Please.

Lucas had yet to make a fool of himself, in fact, quite the opposite. Steve’s personal bias hadn’t played a part in Lucas making it onto the first string. Nonetheless, Erica came to every game. Hoping. Hoping he’d mess up while she wore the special edition Hellfire jersey that Max and Will had designed with Lucas’ number on the back. Everyone knew she was full of shit and secretly supported Lucas, but nobody felt like calling her out on it.

Sometimes not everyone made it, but most of the time it was the full crew. Like tonight, because it was Wednesday, and one thing Will hadn’t changed upon becoming DM was the day they convened for D&D. After the game, they’d pile in Eddie’s van and head to Steve and Eddie’s apartment. Steve’s car sat four, and so did Gareth’s, so they took care of overflow.

Steve turned toward Eddie’s voice, and it was as he thought. Eddie was standing tall among the rest of the spectators.

Steve made eyes at Eddie. Easy, baby. Last time Eddie got too boisterous, one of the parents had gotten in his face, and they had to pause the game to deal with the scuffle.

Eddie shook his head in return, threw his hands up. “It’s ridiculous!”

“I know,” Steve mouthed. The ref always played favourites. Didn’t call out the kids who were blatantly breaking rules, but would then blow the whistle for no good reason. It only got worse if they complained.

Eddie seemed satisfied that Steve agreed with him, tossed a bitchy eye roll the ref’s way and settled down.

For a minute.

He was on his feet again, Max and Erica right there with him, when the ref called Lucas out for travelling.

Steve could hear Eddie’s post-game rant as if he was already laying it out. Travelling? The only thing that’s gonna be travelling is my foot up his ass. Then Gareth would accuse Eddie of having a foot fetish since he used that joke way too much. Then Eddie would accuse Gareth of having a crush on him since he paid so much attention to his habits. It would go around in circles until one or several party members told them both to shut up.

Steve first, usually.

Dustin didn’t wait to complain about it. “Travelling?” he screeched. “He only took one step!”

“I call bullshit!” Erica backed him up.

Hellfire Club didn’t like basketball, but they hated injustice, and they liked knowing facts and rules. Procedure. Understanding how things worked. Dustin had taken it upon himself to become a basketball expert. Erica too. Steve was certain they knew more than him when it came to the theory and science part of the sport, but they couldn’t dribble a ball for shit. So, he counted that as a win for him.

At the beginning of the schoolyear, he’d started off coaching by sitting in on gym classes since no sports had started yet. It gave the students a chance to see him as an authority figure and not a fellow student, and gave him a chance to meet the freshmen. Then he’d advanced to assisting with try-outs, then practices, now games.

Eddie attended all of Steve’s basketball games. A compromise since Steve coached multiple sports, multiple times a week. A compromise because Steve went to all of Eddie’s shows. Steve had never expected reciprocation in that way because Eddie was adamant about his hatred for organized sports, and Steve accepted him the way he was. But Eddie told him maybe he didn’t hate sports or jocks, just assholes, so he would go and try for Steve. It was fair, and it was balance.

Plus, he said watching Steve walk around in cute clothes and blow a whistle to boss everybody around was reason enough to return to Hawkins High and endure the games.

The atmosphere of the games was a lot better, Steve had to admit, therefore wasn’t too taxing on Eddie. Without Tommy and Billy on the team, the new batch of senior boys had nothing to prove. Or fear. Nobody was interested in fighting their own teammates; they saved it for their true opponents. And without Billy around, Max could sit with her friends. Steve could turn his back without worrying he’d get knocked to his knees.

Jason, the captain, still had a bit of a stick up his ass, but it had dislodged for the most part once he realized Hellfire Club wasn’t there to wreak havoc on the Tigers but to support them. He and Eddie were on civil terms, mostly because Chrissy had talked to Jason and sorted everything out.

Steve knew Jason still stung from losing Chrissy, and knew he didn’t like why he’d lost her. But he really did love her, so accepted, or rather, tolerated that she was with Robin. Actually, seemed to prefer that outcome to losing her to another guy. In order to save him the heart attack, Eddie and Steve didn’t disclose the fact that they were boyfriends, and Jason didn’t suspect. Assumed Eddie was only there for Lucas and Chrissy. It worked out.

And anyway, Jason must not have been too heartbroken about the whole thing since he rebounded Heidi who was pretty much single since graduation night. She never went to see Billy, Max told Steve. Later, Chrissy explained that Heidi cared about him, was terrified when she saw what his father had done to him, but had also been looking for an out. And it was easy to let the relationship fade when Billy was stuck in the hospital and all she had to do was not go.

It was made even easier when Billy took off for California as soon as he was out of the hospital. He and Max had parted on halfway decent terms, since she’d helped him recuperate. But her gentle bedside manner couldn’t erase all the resentment he had for the Mayfields, only lessen it.

After Billy was out of the ICU and allowed to have visitors that weren’t immediate family, Steve considered going. For some type of closure, to find solidarity and maybe bury the hatchet. Another part of him considered the pillow-over-face suggestion.

Max told Steve that Billy remembered nothing about the fight, which didn’t surprise him. It did worry him, as he supposed the natural consequence of Billy’s partial amnesia would be to have questions. Like how Steve was involved and what happened to make Neil lose it so completely. The same questions Hopper had.

But as time went on, Steve realized the idea of having a one-on-one with Billy was pointless. They’d never been friends, not even acquaintances. Barely teammates. Active enemies. Sure, it was like he told Max, and Lucas, and Eddie, he had sympathy for the guy growing up with a psycho for a father. But what was Steve supposed to do about it? He couldn’t fix Billy Hargrove even if Billy wanted him to.

So Steve let the distance grow the same way Heidi did. Resolved that if Billy had anything to say to him, he could make the first move. He’d cut off his parents without a word, so it wasn’t difficult to do the same with Billy.

He had other, better things to worry about anyways. Like being a good boyfriend, and a good coach. A role he didn’t know he’d be so good at; a role he wanted to pursue legitimately in college next September. With practical experience and Eddie’s help, he figured the essay portion of the application would go a lot better.

The game continued, and the referee never rescinded a call despite the protests.

Steve was trying and failing not to laugh at Eddie and Erica’s outrage. But it was hard not to laugh when they were more entertaining than the actual game. He forced himself to remain professional, though.

A feat made more difficult when he took off his track suit jacket and tossed it onto the bench. Hellfire Club started hollering at him and clapping. “Take it off!”  He was in track pants and his assistant coach t-shirt—Eddie’s favourite shirt because he got to joke that Steve put the ass in assistant whenever he wore it.

Steve looked to Coach Wilson, expecting him to be pissed off, or give him a warning or something since he knew the rowdiness was directed at him. But all the man did was shake his head and say, “You know, these games are a lot more fun with such an active audience.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve said, cheeks hot from the embarrassment of being cat-called.

Steve turned around to his friends, hands on his hips and heat in his eyes. Fucking behave. Eddie couldn’t threaten the kids with D&D consequences anymore. So all Steve had to use against them was not sharing the leftover baked goods they received for free, courtesy of their landlord. And all Steve had to use against Eddie was absolutely nothing. Except maybe the silent treatment.

None of them paid any mind to his telepathic bitching, though. They just cackled together, and Eddie put his fingers in his mouth and gave another wolf whistle which Robin—traitor—high-fived him for.

Steve scratched at his forehead with his middle finger, and they all laughed harder. Suddenly their laughter turned into cheering, and all of them were standing on Eddie’s level, calling out, “Go Lucas! Come on! Hell yeah!”

Steve turned in time to see Lucas score, the ball dropping through the net with a satisfying swish, his teammates and opponents only at halfcourt he was so quick with his breakaway.

Steve’s cheers blended with the rest of the Tigers’ supporters. He smacked Coach Wilson’s hand, then Lucas’ when he came near enough. “That’s how it’s done, baby! That’s how it’s done!”

Lucas pointed finger guns at Steve, then touched two fingers to his lips and pointed at Max in the audience. Her skin flamed the same shade as her hair, and she scowled at him but still waved.

He was grinning to himself as he jogged over to the rest of the boys to prepare for the next play.

Meanwhile all of Hellfire Club was on Max’s case, allowing Steve a break on the courtside.

Steve took his moment of peace to commit the picture to memory. Eddie with his arm slung around Max, El covering her mouth with her hand to hide her giggling, Erica pretending to throw up.

Steve couldn’t quite believe what his life had become.

Last October, Nancy was dumping him in a bathroom at a Halloween party. Felt like the end of the world to lose his keg-stand king status and his girlfriend all in the same night. To feel Tommy start slipping along with his crown.

Eddie was barely on his radar. A stranger. Robin was only his co-worker.

He was living in his parents’ house, existing within the intervals of their presence and absence, wondering if one day they might decide to bother with him. Wondering if they ever missed him or even thought about him.

Now, his family was in the bleachers like he’d always wanted. Annoying-as-fuck family, but still his.

Now, the closest thing he got to partying was hanging out with Hellfire Club and chaperoning school dances.

Now, the wonderful life he imagined having with Eddie was more than a preview. He was in it, living it. Eddie was his boyfriend, and Robin his best friend. The two loves of his life.

And if that wasn’t enough…

Now, he had a much better relationship with bathrooms.