Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re late.”

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday and Dustin already has his bitch face on. The BMW has only just come to a full and complete stop in front of the Henderson house and the kid is already shouting to be heard in spite of the closed windows. 9:30 and Henderson is already in a mood and Steve is already over it. 

It had been well after 2am by the time Steve got everyone out of his house last night  and even that had taken a favor from Hopper and the lights of his cruiser. By the time he’d actually gone to bed, and by the time he stopped thinking about the blush on Eddie Munson’s face, it felt like his alarm was waking him up again so he'd be on time to pick up the kids.

“Really? my watch says it’s only just now ‘people asking for favors don’t get to complain’ o’clock. Maybe you forgot to spring forward, Henderson.”

Will is the quietest of his kids. Steve doesn’t know if he was always like that or if it’s a product of his time spent in what the kids called the Upside Down, but it always makes his day when he can get the kid out of his shell.

Makes today a mixed bag, he’s got a pissed off Henderson, but Will laughs at his supid joke as he climbs in the back seat of the car.

“Hilarious, Steve, you told us to be ready at 9:30 and you don’t swagger in until 9:32. I think you should get us lunch to make up for it.”

Normally Steve would be up for playing this game. They would all pretend that Steve wasn’t going to give them all exactly what they asked for. Steve would bitch and complain at the kids, the kids would whine and complain back. Then at some arbitrary point when Steve decided that one of the kids had made enough of an argument Steve would pretend that he’d been convinced and give in like he was always going to. Normally, Steve would also need more than one hand to count the hours of sleep he’d gotten before picking up the brats.

“First of all, I don't swagger. Second, not gonna happen, Henderson, get in the back with Byers.”

Dustin, mouth open wide enough that something might fly in it, has the passenger side door open staring at Steve like he’d grown a second head. The morning was looking up. 

“What? Just ‘cause I bitched at you, you’re gonna make me sit in the back?”

“Language! That’s not the only reason, we’ve got another stop to make along the way.”

To pick up Eddie.

Eddie Munson, who showed up to Steve’s house last night like a vision in leather. Sure, he was there accompanying Robin, the coolest girl Steve’s probably ever met, but in hindsight he could see why she wouldn’t want to show up to a party at his place without backup. It worked in Steve’s favor anyway, he got to be the one Eddie spent all night watching.

Steve was good at knowing when people were watching, even when they were pretending very hard not to be. A childhood spent doing anything and everything he could to get his parents to so much as acknowledge him has made him hypervigilant. Always aware of what was going on around him and who was looking at him. Then it just became about figuring out why they were looking so he could make them do it again.

He hated King Steve, hated who he was then and what he did to get people to just look at him. The names he’d call people or the way he’d turn a blind eye to the beatings that Tommy would give out in his name. All so a bunch of assholes would cheer him on at a shitty kegger, or so Carol would grab his arm and giggle, or Tommy -- well he was comfortable enough now to admit the reason he liked the way Tommy looked at him wasn’t entirely heterosexual. It didn’t matter who was looking at him, he just wanted to be seen by somebody, anybody.

It made him really good at recognizing a few different emotions. Fear, infatuation. And anger, he was really good at that one, had been since childhood. It's in the eyes. The one thing all three of those emotions have in common, you want to keep your eyes on the thing that caused you to feel it.

Eddie has great eyes, dark and expressive. Steve was sure the other man was afraid when he first showed up, at least that’s what he thought at first; but Steve's never been flirted with as a fear response. Eddie intrigued him, flustered him, had him doing things he wouldn't ever do. Like invite another guy to his bedroom or pin fucking Carver to a table -- he deserved it and Steve didn’t want to think about what f word Carver was going to fling at Eddie, he instead spent a lot of time that night thinking about the way Eddie shifted in the doorway and what he might have been adjusting. Lust is one thing. Steve knows he’s nice to look at, his appearance was the one thing his parents rarely critiqued when they bothered to stop in. He didn’t expect the intimacy of witnessing Munson’s snooping through his stuff. The way those big brown eyes might look with a soft pink blush staining his cheeks.

Steve always did have the hardest time resisting a strong willed brunette, especially when they were a little mean.

“Steve. Steeve!!” Dustin’s shouting meant he’d probably been trying to get his attention for a couple of minutes. Sticking him in the backseat meant Dustin couldn’t hit him when he wanted his attention, not that Henderson had any trouble shouting.

“What, man, I have nothing to add to you and Byers' nerd talk.”

“First of all, we were talking about a Spider-man comic I know you read, because I saw it in your living room last time we were over which you would know if you were listening.” Dustin’s head pops between the front seats, demanding his attention, “Second-”

“Dude, get in the back and put your seatbelt on!”

“ Second of all,” Dustin neither sits back nor puts his seatbelt on, because Steve being in charge is a farce at best most days, “we already told you Max and Lucas weren’t coming, do you not listen when I talk.”

“Honestly,” Steve says, “I try not to.” Dustin packs a solid punch for a thirteen year old who rolls dice as a hobby. “Ow, Henderson, don’t punch the driver! We aren’t here for Max or Sinclair, Jesus. Sit down and put your seatbelt on.”

“Who are we here for?” Will asks, moments away from cementing himself as Steve’s favorite kid.

He finds Eddie’s trailer without too much trouble, it’s not far from Max’s and Eddie has a talent for setting a scene. It helps that the man himself is waiting out on the front step. Eddie unfolds himself as Steve pulls up, the same soft, worn leather jacket he'd worn to the party around his shoulders to combat the chill clinging to the Spring air. He stretches, back arched like he'd been curled up too long and he's trying to realign his spine; it draws Steve's eyes down to the cropped edge of his shirt and the tantalizing bit of exposed stomach. He can make out hints of black ink that climb Eddie's sides and the idea of having to spend hours at the arcade, in public, instead of hiding away where he can touch sounds unbearable.

"That," Steve manages a word and his voice doesn't even crack around it.

The passenger door gets thrown open with a playful violence. Everything about Eddie is big, playful, exaggerated. Steve thinks it's a mask, maybe one he's even seen behind in the quiet of his room. That this Eddie is someone who doesn't care what the world thinks of him, he's going to take up all the space he wants because the real Eddie worries too much about what the rest of them think.

Nancy would probably say he's projecting, if it weren't so awkward when they tried to talk about anything more serious than the kids or school.

"Hi Stevie." Steve likes the rasp and curl of Eddie's voice, it draws you in. He kinda wonders why Eddie has to bother selling drugs at all when just listening to him is so intoxicating.

"Hey, Eddie."

For someone who on more than one occasion has complained about Steve's sad love life and how much better a mood and therefore babysitter he would be if he found someone, Dustin really doesn't know how to take a hint or read a room. He clears his throat, condescending and loud, Steve hopes it hurts to do. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Eddie, these are the gremlins. Gremlins, this is Eddie."

"That's not how you introduce someone, Steve. God, who raised you?" He knows that Dustin is just throwing a comment back at him that Steve has made more times than he can really count, but he doesn't know how to tell the kid that it doesn't really work in reverse.

"I did." Maybe like that.

He can feel Eddie watching him. The same careful side eye that would be easy to miss if Steve weren't so painfully tuned in to everything Eddie does lately. It's measured, concerned, and skilled enough that Steve thinks Eddie probably has some experience watching things that don't want to be; assessing them. Everyone knows Eddie doesn't live with his parents, though everyone knows that because they say it's what makes him such a good dealer. But Steve knows people their age don't stop living at home unless there's something else going on.

"I don't need to be introduced," Eddie says, theatrically and almost disdainful. It throws off Henderson's thinking face anyway, as he goes from trying to figure Steve out to figuring Eddie out. "I am gracing one Dustin Henderson and one Will Byers with the pleasure of my company this morning. Isn't that right, Steve."

Eddie's twisted in his seat, leaning in the space between driver and passenger so he can look at the kids head on. His shoulder brushes against Steve's, he can feel that soft leather rub against the skin of his arm below the sleeve of his polo. It's distracting. Eddie is just so distracting. It gives him a good reason not to turn around, he can lock eyes with the kids in the rear view instead. Dustin's open mouthed astonishment like Eddie's just done a magic trick and Will's wide eyed blush, Steve makes a note of that it might need to be a later conversation.

"Eddie is the dragon leader for the Dwarves and Dipshits club at school so you better behave."

Under the weight of Eddie's full attention, it’s Steve’s turn to blush though he likes to think it's a little more subtle than Will’s at least. There's a challenge waiting for him when he glances at those warm brown eyes, he winks to meet it and maybe a little to prove he still has some of the charm he used to.

It's not quite so charming or suave when it's backed by Dustin's squawking, "It's Dungeons and Dragons! How many times do you need to be told that, dude!”"

But Will's soft and awed, "You play DnD?" Makes up for it a bit. He isn't entirely sure what's going on with the inter party drama, but he does know that even fighting an interdimensional monster can't hold back all of the growing pains that come from being a teenager. And lord knows puberty has turned Mike Wheeler into a little shit some days.

Eddie is good with the kids, Steve knew he would be, it warms his heart a little the way Eddie grins. His attention completely focused on the kids in the back seat. Steve’s been the date who pretends to pay attention to the younger siblings to impress girls and parents, Eddie is sincere in his interest in talking to the kids. So of course he doesn’t miss the question either.

“Course, I do, best game there is! Not that jocks like Steve here would know that.” He lets Eddie rib him, mostly cause it’s nice to feel like he’s in on the joke for once. That practical demonstration that Eddie promised him can’t come soon enough, Steve wonders just how practical he can make it. 

“And let’s see back here we’ve got a wizard and newly christened forever DM,” Eddie points to Will and Steve watches the kid’s face flame red again, it’s a lot to be subjected to the full weight of Eddie’s attention Steve feels for the kid. He’d probably be a blushing mess too if he didn’t have a couple years of practice under his belt, a bigger blushing mess anyway as he notes his own still flushed cheeks, “and Henderson here’s a fighter. Stevie’s a cleric, maybe a paladin if he’s feeling feisty.”

“Steve doesn’t even know what that means,” Dustin says, even he sounds a little flustered at Eddie’s attention.

Eddie smiles, a slow curl of his mouth Steve is watching too closely to even pretend to be platonic. He could faint when he catches sight of the pink tip of Eddie’s tongue as it pokes out his mouth for just a second as that smile stretches wider. “Just callin’ it like I see it. Weren’t we going to the arcade? I didn’t get all dolled up to sit in front of my own home, Harrington.”

“Right, yeah.” He gets the car started without embarrassing himself too much, more amazed that it wasn’t one of the kids lecturing him.

The opening chords of Material Girl have only just started before Eddie is fiddling with Steve’s radio, "I’m allergic to Top 40, deathly even, so I'm going to need access to your tape collection, Harrington."

He reaches across Eddie to pop open the glovebox, as Eddie pops the cassette out of the player. Steve pulls himself as far out of Eddie's space as he can now as the other man studies his current prize carefully. Late night drives through Hawkins chasing sleep to the sounds of whatever terrors King has pulled from his mind don’t really work, now Steve can only listen to science fiction in the car. Eddie has the first tape of something new Steve’s slowly been working through, having to rewind and relisten every now and then to make sure he's still keeping up with the plot. Alien planets joining a federation, mistrust at a helping hand just because the alien offering it doesn't fit in an expected mold. It's good, so far; but leaves him feeling confused sometimes the same way he did when he stumbled on that Bowie interview in freshman year. 

The weight of Eddie's gaze is overwhelming, and he can't help but meet it. Smiles at wiggling eyebrows and Eddie's own grin. There's something being asked there maybe, but it's hard to tell if Eddie's dancing brows are teasing or if they're offering an exchange of titles.

"Not bad, Harrington," Steve shivers, God no one has ever made him feel like he's being electrocuted like this. Every nerve in his body is on fire and when he looks at Eddie he's happy about it. "A better selection than I was expecting. Not this of course," he wiggles the LeGuin tape in his hand and winks, teasing Steve thinks, "but I think a little Queen will suit us fine."

"What's wrong with that one," Dustin asks immediately, the kid is like a shark the way he can smell Steve's blood in the water. 

Nancy and Jon have told him before that's the way brothers are, always looking for something to tease or blackmail you for. It'd be touching if it weren't happening now in front of a cute guy. There were probably a few girls he’d taken on dates that he owed apologies for all the times he was the cute guy and joined in on the teasing.

There’s no reason to be self conscious. Steve knows, now, that he’s not a complete idiot. He’s not smart the way that Henderson is, effortless and geeky, spouting off science facts and tricking out walkie talkies so the range on the cheapest radio shack models they could pick up have a range that rivals the shit the cops and the government have. Or smart like Eddie who’s creative and clever, and when he’s actually in the English class they share he comes with an annotated copy of Hamlet and goes back and forth with their teacher about things Steve wishes he were fast enough to follow. Stoppard and predestination; the illusion and futility of choice for comedic side characters waiting for scripted plot forwarding death.

He always gets there in the end. Is his point, even if he doesn’t get there the way everyone else does. He just knows Henderson will feel bad for the jokes about him being dumb if he learns that Steve is dyslexic. With a diagnosis and everything, even if his parents don’t put any stock in it. But taking your kid to see a professional when the pretty, young guidance counselor pulls you aside to “express concern that Steven seems to be struggling with his reading and comprehension” is what good parents are supposed to do.

All the things they say about him when they're behind closed doors, that’s all Steven Senior and Elaine and none of it is with the same affection that Dustin uses.

"Mixtape," Eddie answers, lie slipping off his tongue so easily that Steve almost believed it himself. "I don't listen to any mixtape that's not made by or for me."

“Sure have an awful lot of rules about music for someone who isn’t driving,” Steve says.

Not that it matters when it’s immediately overshadowed by the kids in the backseat begging to know why.

Eddie turns around in the passenger seat again, Steve would love the insistence at giving the kids his full and undivided attention if the car weren’t moving and Eddie wasn’t forgoing his seatbelt.

“Mixtapes are how teenagers send each other coded secret messages,” he whispers, like he’s giving away the secrets of the universe. “I refuse to be influenced by the messages of strangers.”

Dustin and Will are eating up everything that Eddie gives them, eyes wide mouths agape. He hates to be the one who ruins the image they’re clearly building of Eddie as the cool, rebellious older kid. “No, they’re not.”

“Sure they are,” Eddie insists. Steve isn’t jealous of his kids, but he does preen under Eddie’s attention. “Who was the last person to give you a mixtape? Be honest.”

His first instinct is to say no one. Steve is the one who puts in a couple hours effort to make a tape for a pretty girl -- and maybe once or twice for a pretty boy, not that those ever left the safety of his bedroom.

With the exception of one person.

When Eddie makes him blush, Steve relishes in it. The fluttery rush of butterflies in his stomach and the tingling that races up and down his spine. The embarrassed flush that hits him now is unbearable, he turns up the air trying to fight the heat in his cheeks as he remembers who that last person was.

“You can’t tell Robin!”

His first mistake was ever thinking that it was a good idea to introduce Dustin and Eddie. His second mistake was a tie between everything that’s happened since then.

“Who’s Robin?”

Eddie keeps his focus on Steve, in spite of the clamoring in the backseat. “I make no promises, Stevie boy.”

That’s about as much as Steve can hope for. He sighs, “Tammy Thompson, like a week after me and Nance broke things off. It was all ballads and Country and Western.”

Eddie throws his head back, howling in the passenger seat. His hands pull in tight to his chest as they flap, tiny rapid movements like a hummingbird’s wings. Steve fights to keep his eyes on the road, difficult when Eddie is such a sight. He wants to know what Eddie’s rings feel like against his fingers when their hands are entwined. Wants to know how that smile feels against his mouth.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” Eddie chants, “I will keep your dirty little secret on one condition. Did she sing?”

“I didn’t actually listen to it, Eds!” Oh god he’s giggling. It’s a first date, they’ve been together five minutes and Eddie already has him giddy.

“Tell me you kept it at least? I promise I won’t tell Robin if you let me hear Tammy Thompson’s Kermit voice serenading you.” He turns to the back again, “Now what message do we think dear sweet, tonedeaf Tammy was sending your babysitter?”

“You’ve got all these girls throwing themselves at you, Steve, you gotta get over Nancy and take one of them on a date!”

“Dustin,” Will hisses, truly the only one of his kids with any manners.

“Speaking of Robin,” Eddie says, “she said to tell you thank you for last night.”

He takes it back, Eddie is the worst. Eddie accepted this date solely so he could ruin Steve’s life. It’s karmic payback for his years of assholery. He can’t imagine a punishment more fittingly tailored to the person he used to be. The pretty guy that he’s trying to take out teasing him in front of the family he’s always wanted about a girl he would never have. Not that he had any interest in Robin like that, but King Steve would have been devastated.

“Who’s Robin? What’d you do with her last night?”

“You are eleven years old, how did you make that sound so dirty,” Eddie sounds incredulous, maybe he really didn’t mean to make it sound the way he did.

“Robin is a friend ,” Steve insists. “I have those.”

“Steve set Robin up with a tutoring gig with his friend Chrissy, she’s got a big oral report coming up and Robin happens to be very good at oral reporting.” And he’d critiqued Steve’s euphemisms.

Elbowing Eddie in the side just gets him a round of giggles from the other man.

"This is why you're going to be single forever. Two different girls and you're setting them up on study dates."

“I don’t know, I think Harrington’s doing alright for himself,” Eddie says. An innocent enough statement, until his hand finds its way onto Steve’s thigh. 

Steve nearly swallows his tongue when that hand then squeezes. There's a slight pinch from the thick rings on Eddie's fingers and it's like the heat from that hand has warmed his entire body. Fire, Steve is pretty damn certain he's actually on fire. He spares zero thought for road safety as he drops a hand from the wheel so he can snatch Eddie's. He spares zero thought for anything really, until he's got Eddie's hand in his and nowhere to put it without making an idiot out of himself. He runs his thumb over that silver jewelry, letting it catch for a second on the open mouth of that skull before he decides to be bold. He was Steve Harrington, girls thought he was sweet and charming and they blushed in the hallways when he smiled at them; and maybe he liked that Eddie made him feel the way he imagined they did, but if that was true then Eddie probably also liked feeling that way. So he squeezes that hand in his so Eddie can think this was intentional, that this is another smooth flirtation and not him fumbling like he's in the 8th grade again, trying to do anything that will make Eddie smile or blush or laugh, and places it back on his leg -- a little closer to his knee this time, his kids are in the car and the thigh is a little fresh.

Dustin and Eddie have been going back and forth, their banter light and easy in a way that warms Steve's heart. He loves all the kids, but Dustin has stubborned his way into feeling more like a brother. They hadn't missed Steve in the conversation, maybe hadn't even noticed he'd stopped talking as they bickering about Robin and Steve's love life. It can be hard to get a word in edgewise when Dustin really gets going and Eddie was going toe to toe with his motormouth, Steve hadn't noticed that Will had gone silent too until he hears a gasp. Eyes darting to the rear view expecting the worst, eyes rolled to the back of his head puking slugs or getting possessed, but Will is just sitting in the backseat meeting Steve’s gaze like he’s suddenly been given an answer to a question he never knew he could ask.

He should make a list or something. Mike, puberty, fighting with friends, liking men. It’s a lot to try to keep straight and that’s before Eddie squeezes his hand tight around Steve’s knee.

Dustin smacks into the back of the passenger seat when Steve slams hard on the brakes. “We’re here!”

“Dude!”

“I told you to wear your seatbelt, dude.” Steve says, Dustin does make it easy sometimes to be unapologetic. Even if he only stopped as a reflex. “Get out of my car, gremlins, or I’m taking you all back home.”

The kids scramble out of the backseat, any thought of Steve’s erratic driving gone. A cold spot takes the place of Eddie’s hand on his knee and Steve misses that physical contact immediately. It’s easy to let himself lean across the armrest back into Eddie’s space and pop the glovebox back open letting his chest stay pressed against the knobby bone of Eddie’s shoulder, it isn’t comfortable and it certainly isn’t even approaching flirtatious but it’s nice being close to him. Catching the scent of cigarettes and old spice, he pretends to rifle around in the glovebox for longer than he needs just to stay close and breathe it in.

“Looking for something in particular, pretty boy.” 

A shiver slides down his spine, Eddie’s breath warm on his neck. It can’t be healthy, he doesn’t think, to want to be so close to someone he barely knows. He hasn’t felt this desperate for anyone in nearly a year. He doesn’t want to compare Eddie and Nancy, what he feels for Eddie and felt for Nancy aren’t even close to comparable. Being near Nancy made him feel like he did when he was dreaming, light headed and floaty like he could fly away from just her smile. Being with Eddie, being near Eddie, felt like touching a live wire; electrifying and exciting.

He snags two and a half rolls of quarters, wiggling them in front of Eddie’s face so it looks a little bit less like he wasn’t looking for a reason to touch. There’s something about the other boy that feels a little indescribable, like the way he’s looking at Steve now. Like Steve is a puzzle he can’t figure out.

Oh.

Flirt first and think later, that had been his go to move all of high school. If he gave himself too much time to think he’d psyche himself out, trip over his own tongue or worse his insecurities.

The King Steve reputation helped with girls. More than one had told him how special they’d felt because he was paying attention to them, how he seemed so above it all. The way being with him for a week or a month kept them protected from the horrors of the popular crowd. 

He hadn’t thought about what it might do when it came to boys. And Eddie definitely knew his reputation.

Princess .

There are two kids on the sidewalk waiting for him. His mixed up thoughts for Eddie will need to wait for at least another few minutes.

“Take these,” Steve says, handing them each a roll of their own. “I’m leaving at 12:30 with or without you.”

Medically, Steve doesn’t know if the lack of collarbones means Dustin can roll his eyes more dramatically but he turns it into a full body affair this time. “Whatever, dude, keep pretending you're a hardass.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Will says.

Dustin takes off at a full sprint into the arcade, it’s probably a miracle the kid hasn’t been banned from the place.

“Hey Will, hang back for a sec?” Steve asks, glad a little that Dustin’s already gone cause the kid would ask why he’s using his mom voice.

He takes the wide eyed look he gets in response as his permission to continue. “I don’t want to overstep, I know you’ve already got a brother that you can talk about this stuff to; but, uh, as someone who knows better than most what it can be like to be emotionally devastated by a Wheeler. Not that I really know what’s going on with the Party, but, uh, they don’t- They bottle things up, it’s Ted’s fault probably, and it festers and they lash out because they’re mad at you or at themselves or just because you just got lucky enough to be the closest person to them. It doesn’t make it your fault and it doesn’t make what is being said when he’s lashing out true.”

It’s a conversation he wishes someone would have had with him when Nancy Wheeler, upset about Barb and monsters and maybe the feelings she was having for Jonathan found a way to nail every single one of his insecurities in a single word. He pulls Will in close, because he wishes someone would have hugged him that night.

“Don’t be afraid to bite back, Will, I know it’s weird since El is almost like a sister since your mom and Hop are all y’know and Mike is your… friend but that doesn't mean you can't tell him when he's being a dick. You don't need to bottle your shit up too, y’know, you can talk to him or the party or even me about stuff that's bothering you, okay? And, uh, you could do better than Mike Wheeler, Byers, y’know if you wanted to."

He has been avoiding looking down at Will during what has been admittedly the weirdest pep talk of his life. Not that he's much of a planner to begin with, but he does think his it's okay that you're probably gay talk went better with Robin. He didn't actually have to talk then though, maybe that was why.

Two skinny arms wrap tight around his middle, squeezing hard enough to leave him winded. "Thanks, Steve. And, uh, maybe for the next talk you could leave out the part about my mom's sex life?"

He ruffles the kids hair, taking the chance while Will is distracted trying to salvage his Joyce Byers special to slip the other half roll of quarters into his pocket. “Get out of my face, Baby Byers, see if I try to cheer you up again.”

If he weren’t so happy to see the kid laugh he’d be offended that Byers knows what a pushover he is. “Sure, Steve!” And then there’s another kid running into the arcade at top speed. It really is amazing they’re still allowed to be here.

The sound of Eddie’s sneakers scuffing the sidewalk next to him is the only warning he gets before the other man is in his space. He hadn’t been deliberately avoiding making eye contact with Eddie, he was talking to Will and wanted the boy to know that he had Steve’s full attention. Maybe if Steve had been watching he’d know just what he’d said that had Eddie so confused. Big eyes even wider as he cocked his head like a puppy.

“Did you just reverse pickpocket the Byers kid while telling him it’s okay to be gay?”

“No, I did that while telling Will it’s okay to be upset that his friend is being an asshole. I implied that it was okay to be gay.”

“Steve Harrington, you are a wonder!”

Eddie says it like he really means it. Like Steve is something genuinely wonderous or awe inspiring. Not like Tommy or fucking Hargrove would hiss it at him in the halls and locker room, mean spirited and reeking of spilled secrets.

It’s a heady feeling, one he’d like to wrap himself up in. Flushed and warm, getting complimented by Eddie felt like being wrapped in his favorite sweater.

“Let’s get inside before one of your kids breaks something, I think I saw Henderson trying to tilt Gauntlet like it was a pinball machine.” 

“Shit, Henderson!” Eddie’s laugh gets drowned out by the sounds of the arcade when Steve walks in. Walks because he doesn’t remember the kid at the counter, but he knows that they don’t like him and won’t have a problem kicking him out regardless of the forty bucks a week he ends up spending here.

The Steve Harrington of a year ago would be embarrassed that he spent enough time in the arcade that he knew the layout, that he could clock immediately on entry where the Gauntlet cabinet was sitting. The Steve Harrington of right now is mostly panicked that neither Dustin nor Will are standing in front of it.

Lights flash in the corner of his eyes. Kids are squealing --  or screaming? -- around him. It’s getting harder and harder to fight the rushed intake of breath, stay calm enough to actually look around the room.

Arms circle around his waist, pulling them tight against another body. “Get your hands off your hip, Soccer mom, your ducklings are over there arguing about Galaga.”

Steve can feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice where they’re pressed back to front. The flyaway frizz of his curls tickles their cheek as he turns instinctively to see Dustin doing his angry pointy bitch face by the Galaga machine.

Eddie must be stronger than he looks. He takes Steve’s weight as if it’s nothing when they sag against him; all deadweight he’s a puppet with its strings cut he’s so relieved that he’s seen them. It’s nice, being held like that, they kinda like that they can feel Eddie’s bony elbows digging into their sides.

They’re being jostled forward by someone else’s running, screaming kid; and it’s only Steve’s sport and monster honed reflexes that keep them both off the ground. It’s an unfortunate reminder that they are in public. The guy at the counter who definitely doesn't like him, shit Steve probably bullied him at some point and it has to be worse that he doesn’t remember doing it, is watching them both now a little calculating and a lot confused.

He pulls away from Eddie, unwilling to let the fallout of his former bad deeds make a casualty of his new… Well he doesn’t really know what Eddie is yet. He scrubs a harsh hand down the back of his neck, unwilling to fuss with the hair he spent so long on getting just right this morning.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry?” They can’t bring themself to look at Eddie, but something in his voice dims. He hates that, hates that he is once again responsible for the misery of others. Maybe Eddie is a little bit psychic,  El can move shit with her mind so it doesn’t feel like that much of a reach that other people have super powers, he angles his body turning to face the kid at the counter, “Hey Gare Bear, how’s it hanging?”

There isn’t a reply, at least not a verbal one and Steve is steadfastly ignoring everything going on but the kids -- still arguing over Galaga, but at least this time Will has the controls in his hand while Dustin is bitching. “Cool, cool, well as your friend, I know you know to keep your mouth shut about anything you think you might have just seen. That cleric you rolled last week was pretty sick, it’d be a real shame if something happened to ‘em.”

Oh! That was a nerd threat. Steve had seen first hand the time and care that the party put into their little characters. Rolling dice and arguing about the value of optimization for gameplay versus storytelling. Pluses and minuses and backstories. This was Eddie’s version of slamming Jason Carver into a table.

Well maybe not exactly. Eddie probably actually liked this guy since they were in the same club.

Still hot though.

It’s one of his kids that goes running by now,  Dustin alleviating some of Steve’s tension at least. “Eddie, dude, we forgot to warn you not to get hustled by Steve at air hockey. It’s the only game he can use his stupid jock instincts at, he’s the worst.”

Those doe eyes light up at the challenge, and Steve finds himself being immediately dragged in that direction. 

“You let the kid win once ‘cause he’s an actual child and all of a sudden it’s a hustle.” Steve gripes, happy to be a little farther away from anyone who currently attends Hawkins High 

“If I tell you chivalry is dead, will you promise not to take it easy on me?” Eddie asks. Sharp smile, teeth bared, and just the hint of that pink tongue tucked behind a canine. And it’s Steve who’s being told to not to take it easy, like Eddie isn’t one more innuendo away from giving them some kind of complex.

What he wants to do is flirt back. Say something witty, or at least charming, that leads to bedroom thoughts and pink cheeks. God if he were really lucky maybe that tongue would snake out and wet chapped lips or teeth might snag that plush bottom lip.

So of course what he actually says is, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie cocks his head again, fingers dancing by his side. Steve imagines the sound the thick rings must make as the rub against each other. “Sorry for what, Stevie?”

This is why Steve had avoided the whole apology tour thing. He’d been a colossal douche all through highschool, some of that had been to fit in to avoid having the tables turned on him, but he couldn’t deny his own mean streak. Bitchy and a little cruel, it’s why he really got along better with Carol most days than Tommy.

So maybe it made swallowing his pride a little hard, even if he did genuinely regret the person he used to be. It was much more appealing to just keep his head down and take whatever swings other people were throwing out as they made their way to the throne he’d vacated.

Christ, now he’s making the King Steve jokes.

He needed to apologize now though, if he wanted things to work with Eddie. He really wanted things to work with Eddie. Not just because Eddie was pretty or because he was friends with Robin, but even if the dating thing didn’t work Eddie was fun to be around. Steve had had more fun talking with him over the past twenty-four hours than he thought he’d ever had talking to any of his old friends. The week immediately post monster slaying that he spent with Nancy and Jon maybe being the only exception, before things got weird and tense in a way that they hadn’t been able to fix.

“I’m sorry for me?” Eddie’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs now, god he was fucking this up. “I was a dick before, and I-- I mean before this went anywhere I wanted to apologize for anything that I might have done to you.” He’s rambling now, it’s like rolling downhill uncontrollable and frightening just waiting for whatever you’re going to hit hard enough to make you finally fucking stop. “God, and I know it’s worse that I don’t even have anything specific to apologize for because I was such a douche that I don't remember all the douchey things that I did or said. But I’m- I want you to know that I want to be the kind of person that you might actually want to be seen with.”

Eddie isn’t a hard person to read, exactly. Steve thinks that might be part of the persona Eddie wears. Projecting emotions onto his face big and bright, everything about him big and over the top, so you never look any farther than what’s sitting right at the surface.

His face is blank now, where he’s crouched beside the air hockey table because Steve’s guilty conscience decided that it needed to explode right there before they could put their quarters in  and actually start their game. Strong, but probably not much of a fighter, Steve imagines Eddie’ll either verbally destroy them or storm out rather than punch him.

A gamble, there’s probably a reason he’s got those big rings on his dominant hand. Makeshift brass knuckles that won’t get you suspended.

Function and fashion, Nancy would probably say.

“I think,” Eddie says, pausing like he’s considering every word before it leaves his mouth, “I’m more offended that you think I look like I should be a target for bullying.”

Oh.

The air kicks on for the table as two of Eddie’s quarters disappear into the mechanics of the machine with a clink.

“Sorry.”

“Jesus H. Christ, cool it with the apologies Harrington or I’ll find you someone who actually deserves one. Look I can’t, like, absolve you of your sins or whatever, not just ‘cause I’m not your priest. You really don’t owe me one.”

Eddie sends the puck straight into Steve’s undefended goal.

“And,” he says, waving at Steve in a sort of hurry up and catch on sort of way, “I’m not saying that because you weren’t a jerk, I think you should feel a little guilty about all the shit you did mostly cause it’s probably a sign you are actually improving as a person; but you and your jock crew seemed to have enough brains behind you to know it’s not a good idea to fuck with the best dealer in the school.”

“Oh.” He does manage to block Eddie’s shot this time, sending it clattering and ricocheting back toward him.

“Jason and his bible thumping brigade on the other hand, guess the trailer park is far enough that they don't consider me their neighbor,” Eddie grins, rocketing the puck toward Steve’s goal for another point.

Steve knows an out when he's being given one, and while the conversation is probably long from being totally over he takes it anyway. “Are you hustling me?”

"You wish. This is what happens when you're only friends with children, you lose your edge."

"I'll show you edge." Maybe there was a point to be made about only hanging out with middle schoolers, his comebacks had certainly regressed.

Something dangerous flashed across Eddie's face, the look settling low and hot in Steve's stomach, before he smiles wide enough to reveal a dimple. It's like he wants to kill them.

"I didn't wanna say this in the car, didn't want to give that kid of yours another reason to bully you, but me and Robin are gonna meet at the diner tomorrow to, uh, debrief about our evenings. You should come."

It was embarrassing, really, that after spending most of his time in school being "King" that he was so desperate for friends. Age appropriate friends, friends that didn't bum rides off him because they’re still three years away from being able to drive and bum them because they're too lazy to drive or take the test. He is though, desperate and so excited that Robin and Eddie seem to like him enough to invite him into their group.

“Sounds fun.” He absolutely is not playing it cool. His face hurts he's smiling so wide, Eddie must like the look though staring at Steve the lights of the arcade reflecting in the dark of his eyes like stars. It's the first time he's left his goal undefended long enough to score a point.

"Cool, we're meeting at 9. You should join us at 10."

"What? Why can't I come at 9?"

"Cause by 10 we should be done talking about you." Teeth flash as Eddie smirks, punctuating the sentence with another goal.

"Oh."

Another uncontested point for Eddie.

That smile takes on an uncharacteristic seriousness. There’s an insistence there that has Steve pausing his movements, keeping the plastic puck in his hand as he watches him. Would keep his gaze if Eddie didn't seem to be intentionally looking anywhere but Steve's face. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way." 

Maybe the third worst way to start a conversation, following closely behind we should talk and that's bullshit.

Eddie meets his eyes for half a second. There's a frenzy there that Steve feels like he could spend a lifetime and still not fully pull apart. Steve knows when he's being watched, and though Eddie has the decency to face him for what is sure to be a horrible conversation he's definitely looking somewhere over their shoulder.

He continues, and there's nothing Steve could even begin to think of to stop this train from crushing him on the tracks. "I'm having a good time, I like spending time with you."

"But," a hoarse voice, quiet and so unlike Steve's own he barely recognizes it. Doubts Eddie can even hear it over the sounds of fake laser fire and ms. Pacman.

"But-" 

It was always coming, always going to come. But you're more trouble than you're worth. But I don't think we should keep seeing each other. But I have actually come to my senses and I can’t believe I let things get this far.

“But you seem like the kind of chivalrous weirdo who would stop hanging out with Robin because she’s ‘my’ friend if something were to happen; and that’s stupid cause Robin is her own person and can decide who she wants to hang out with. So, uh, even if this doesn’t end up going anywhere don’t, uh, do that.”

A mental file of all of Eddie’s nervous ticks is starting in Steve’s brain. Nervous Eddie hides behind his hair, covering as much of his face as he can behind his hand and his curls. It might be one of the cutest things he’s ever seen.

“And now that we’ve both made things awkward, how about we move this party somewhere else. If we were at the Hideout we could pretend like you're letting me teach you how to play pool, but um." Steve watches Eddie glance around, fingers tapping in a jittery rhythm. Steve liked that Eddie seemed to be constantly in motion, how alive he was, like he felt so much that it had to leave his body any way it could. Nervous now, they figured, both of them were a little out of their element.

"I could pretend that I need someone to teach me how to play pinball?" He suggested. Very interested in the idea of having Eddie pressed along his back, pinning him up against the machine.

“Let’s go play pretend, baby.”

Unlike Steve’s kids, most of the usual clientele of the arcade aren’t early risers. The corner dedicated to the pinball machines is as good as abandoned. A hand hovering over his waist guides Steve gently over to one called The Sorcerer, the almost contact is somehow worse than if Eddie were actually touching him. The phantom heat that sent his brain into overdrive trying to make sense of what it wasn’t feeling.

“That’s where your band plays, right? The Hideout, Corroded Coffin?”

Oh, that hand is gone from his waist. He’s just a hair taller than Eddie, in the sense that the difference in height is mostly his hair, so it’s easy to let his head tip back to Eddie’s shoulder and watch that soft pink blush spread across the part of his face he isn’t able to hide.

“I think I would remember your pretty face among the drunks, Sweetheart. So where’d you pick up that little tidbit?”

Steve slides a quarter into the machine, while he thinks on his answer. Let Eddie's hands slip from where they were steadfastly not on Steve's hips to covering his own hands, guiding him through motions he was already familiar with just for the excuse of contact. He’s tempted, oh so tempted, to lie. To spin the same story Chrissy told him last night and make it his own. So he can feel how Eddie’s body will twitch and coil with pride and maybe a hint of embarrassment.

But Steve was in the ER during that particular talent show and Corroded Coffins debut performance. An emergency appendectomy and an ambulance he’d had to call himself with a side order of trying to lie under immense pain and then anesthesia so no one realized his parents had left him home alone again, a month this time as they’d disappeared to Miami and all these years later he’s still not sure if it’s Florida or Indiana that they were in.

“Chrissy told me, she really wants to see you play somewhere outside of the school gym but her fake is for shit.”

Steve can feel the way Eddie wiggles, his right hand suddenly cold and left to work the paddles on its own. He both misses the contact and wishes he could see the look on Eddie’s face, wonders if it’s shy or elated.

“You and Cunningham were talking about little ole me?”

“You and Robin left the party so early-”

“Say no more, pretty thing, a little gossip sesh about the hotties that you picked up. I get it.”

“Not to bring down the mood again, but what you said about Robin? Chrissy thinks you’re really cool.”

“Well if my two new favorite preps think they can handle being out late on a school night I think we can make some dreams come true.” Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s again; he delights at the contact and the promise of a second date.

Conversation flows easily between them. Now that they’d moved on from the heavier topics like bullying and breakups anyway. Eddie was easy to be around. At home in his own skin, in a way Steve only pretended to be, it was easy to find a balance between teasing and earnestness. 

Steve liked first dates, was good at them. He liked the early getting to know you stage of the relationship, sometimes he pretended that was why most of his relationships never made it past that point. He liked asking questions and puzzling out little pieces of a person. What their favorite band was -- Dio over Metallica but the frontman for Judas Priest was like Eddie's personal hero for being so out there -- or what they like to do -- you'll get to learn all about my hobbies later, Stevie, I'm not gonna bore you now.

And it was even better with Eddie, who seemed to want to know the same things about Steve. Wanted to direct just as much attention to him. He was glad he had something to do with his hands, it helped to distract him from his impulse to tailor his answers to what Eddie would like. What would make him more interesting to the other boy. His mother taught him that. People don't actually want to learn more about others, they just want to see themselves reflected back, Steven.

Surrounded by Eddie distracted by the urge to beat his high score, instead of fighting to keep his hands from twisting a straw wrapper around and around his fingers -- stop fidgeting, Steven, it's unbecoming -- while he sits across the table from a girl who only asked him about himself because she hadn't asked him a question since he picked her up, he can answer without thinking at all.

He’s had a soft spot for The Smiths since the moment he heard Back to the Old House, which Eddie teases him about -- a little more emo than I was expecting from you, Stevie -- but croons This Charming Man in his ear immediately after. How he reads more than he knows anyone would give him credit for, prefers horror but it's harder to come by so he gets his scares from science fiction when he has to. Eddie begs him to pick up some fantasy for him, and Steve already plans his call to the library.

Time just seems to evaporate the longer they talk. Different as they are on the surface, different as they are underneath that too, they mesh with one another in a way Steve finds heady. He feels like he could spend the rest of his life trying to get to know Eddie Munson and still only scratch the surface. He thinks he might want to.

Clingy, he tamps down on that little impulse. Tucks the thought away in a little box underneath all the rejections and soft break ups he’s gotten for being too much too soon. Babies that aren’t held enough become adults who don’t know how to bond normally, the one thing he remembers from the psychology elective he had to take because Home Ec filled up too fast.

Dustin appears like a wrecking ball, slamming into the machine hard enough that even where Eddie was helping at Steve’s bad side they aren’t able to save the attempt.

Steve had been 100 points away from breaking the high score too.

“Steeve, it’s 12:30. Me and Will are starving and we’re leaving with or without you.”

“Oh good, then Eddie and I can go do something that doesn’t involve being surrounded by children.”

“Steve!”

“The man called your bluff, Henderson, you tried to play a shit hand.” Eddie teases. Wrapping an arm around the kid like it’s nothing, like he hadn’t just met the kid three hours ago. Brotherly in a way that makes Steve’s heart clench tight in his chest.

“Grab Will,” Steve gives in, like he always does and was always going to, “we’ll go to Benny’s. Might as well spend my parent’s money before I lose it.”

Dustin’s pulled Will away from Ms. Pacman with an arm looped through the other boy’s, the extra weight almost sends them both to the ground when Dustin spins to look back at Steve. “You’re using your parent’s money and we’re only going to the diner! We should go someplace expensive.”

“You two twerps wouldn’t know what to do with yourselves somewhere expensive.”

“Make that three,” Eddie chimes, waving to the Garett -- Gareth? -- kid behind the counter as they leave.

Steve is used to feeling like an insensitive dick pretty much all the time now, it’s not that he means to say things without thinking. It’s more that when he did it before it didn’t matter as much. His old friends would laugh or encourage the unintentionally, and sometimes intentionally, douchey things that he said. Even when some of them were genuine questions. Now he just tries to correct himself when the rest of him catches up.

“Fancy places just serve a smaller amount of worse food and charge you more for it. Let’s go to Benny’s and you can get pie and a milkshake. Maybe Eddie will let you tell him about your pie model.”

“It’s a statistical predictive model, Steve.” And they were off to the races. Dustin predictably takes the bait and rants about how Steve never listens when he talks.

“It’s a fancy flow chart,” Steve whispers conspiratorially to Eddie. A little excited that he has someone to conspire with. Nancy and Jonathan have siblings, obviously, but their relationships with Mike and Will are just so different from Steve’s with Dustin. “The kid’s like an Einstein level genius, no common sense. It’s like fifteen different steps and questions to answer the question what fruit is cheap and in season this month.”

Eddie’s soft laugh is his favorite so far. A huff of air that wrinkles his nose while his mouth pulls up into a smile. The tips of his ears pink, but maybe that’s because Steve is leaning as close as he can while still safely driving the car; so Dustin can’t hear them whispering of course.

“Lose it?”

Robin had said last night, loosened by a little alcohol and in hindsight probably a bit of relief too, that she and Eddie were both chronic overthinkers. It was a tease, mostly because Steve had made the mistake of confessing that he wasn’t sure if Eddie liked him much, something he’d been trying not to let bother him. “Things get caught up there sometimes, and you spend so much time spinning them around and around and around trying to figure out what it might mean or if there was a tone you were missing that the don’t be an idiot filter in your brain takes a break so you can worry about the thing that’s caught your attention.”

Like what was supposed to be an offhand comment about his inevitable disinheriting.

“No college, no cash.”

It hadn’t always been the rule. There was an assumption that Steve would of course go to college, preferably where his father had graduated from so he could pledge the same fraternity and sleep his way through the same sorority house before the same broken condom got him a fast track to the American Dream. Steven Michael Harrington the Second, meant to be the perfect copy of his father down to the name. Then his grades started declining and an ultimatum was set.

“Surely Hawkin’s basketball star will get a scholarship?”

“I’m good for Hawkins, probably even good for the county, but I’m not IU good or Ohio State or Louisville good.” He laughs, hoping that will help him push back the emotion he still can’t name that always wells up when he thinks about his future late at night. Alone in an empty house that his parents can afford to keep empty save for him and the weight of the appearances he’s supposed to keep up. “My grades are shit and my SAT scores aren't even good enough for the community college the next town over.”

It’s a little cathartic to get this out there to someone. He’s been letting Nancy bully him into applying places because he doesn’t think he could stand the disappointed little wrinkle she’d get if he told her it was a waste of time.

Even if he does think she’s doing it out of a misplaced sense of pity.

“I mean,” he continues, uncomfortably aware of Eddie’s focused gaze on his face. God now he’s the one who can’t stand to make eye contact. “I could probably swing something for swimming but, ‘people only care about swimming once every four years, Steven’”

Twirling that hair in front of his face again, Eddie laughs at Steve’s half-hearted impression of his dad.

“You would look ravishing in an Olympic speedo.” Eddie teases.

“Think about me in my swimwear often, Munson?”

“More and more.” He winks and that petal pink tongue makes another appearance, wetting the lips Steve can’t stop looking at.

The conversation is mercifully dropped as they park at Benny’s. Aimless chatter takes over as they make their way in, the boys vying for his and Eddie’s attention and arguing about stupid shit. It’s good. Steve’s glad they get to have this, that despite everything they’ve had to deal with in their short lives that they’ve been able to bounce back into fairly normal children. 

It’s late for lunch but Benny’s is still packed, mostly with kids hungover from the party Steve threw last night looking for something to fix the problem. Dustin and Will are familiar with Steve’s quirks by now, and when their usual booth is occupied -- by fucking Jason Carver too, a thrill runs through him as he watches Carver pale under the weight of his glare -- they grab a table near the back.

The table is vaguely sticky with maple syrup that has probably an integral part of the structure by now. Steve can keep his back to the wall and his eyes on the door with Dustin beside him and Eddie across from him. It’s the most relaxed he’s felt all day.

A thought he regrets having immediately after he finishes thinking it. Surrounded by enough burgers, fries, and chicken tenders to feed an occupying army, he watches as Dustin’s face takes on the calculated recklessness it had when he told Steve he was pretty sure the stray he’d adopted was actually a coyote, possibly with rabies. Which had nothing on the deceptively innocent face Baby Byers was wearing, the same face he used when he was hiding behind his DM screen seconds before he did something that made the other kids curse and moan.

No one could have anticipated what they were planning. Certainly not Eddie who inhaled his milkshake when Dustin asks, “So, Eddie, what are your intentions with our babysitter?”

“Dude!” Steve is able to respond if only because he hadn't had anything in his mouth when Dustin started talking.

“Don’t, dude me, you can’t be trusted with a decision like this.”

Will, the betrayer, nods sagely, “Steve has a weakness for pretty people.”

“It’s his kryptonite,” Dustin agrees, “and you seem cool, dude, but he’s easily led astray.”

“I’m like five years older than you, I think I can be trusted to make my own friends.” Steve says, and sure it’s a lie that anyone who remembers him two years ago would call him on but if there was ever proof of his growth it was the people sitting around the table.

“Steve,” God this kid needed to get his attitude in check. Barely a teen and the condescending attitude could suffocate everyone in the diner on contact. "You skipped the first basketball practice of the season this year to drive your ex-girlfriend to an interview."

"It was for her summer internship and Ted had their car, Nancy is still my friend."

"You lost out on the captain spot because of it! They gave it to fucking Billy." He's shrieking. Steve's taste for being the center of attention has really narrowed in the last year or so. He likes knowing his friends are paying attention. He really likes when pretty people like Eddie Munson are paying attention. This, right now, where half the diner is pretending like they aren't eavesdropping, this kind of attention makes him want to hide his face in his hands, but then he'd need to put his elbows on the sticky table and Steve would rather crawl out of his own skin than be sticky.

So he deals with the weight of the half glances from the gossip hounds trying to catch the smell of his blood in the air, shushing Dustin who truly has no concept of an inside voice. "It's not a big deal, Henderson. I have enough to deal with wrangling you gremlins, I didn't need to worry about a team full of dicks too."

"You canceled a date last month to babysit me and El cause Jon asked you to," Will points out. His betrayal stings the most, Dustin is a notorious busy body but Steve really thought Will would mostly stick to nodding along.

"He had to work, and I like spending time with the Wonder Twins."

"He didn't have work, he went to get high with Eddie cause Hopper won't let him smoke at the house anymore."

Eddie, who was supposed to be the target of this little inquisition, is watching the back and forth with undisguised glee hunched over the table like a gargoyle while balancing on the back two legs of his chair. One hand cradles his bright pink strawberry milkshake as his eyes dart back and forth while lobs are passed, he doesn't look even a little apologetic at this new reveal. His grin stretches around the straw in his mouth and he has the nerve to wink at Steve. “Sorry, Stevie,” he lisps, “won’t happen again.”

“I wasn’t gonna make Joyce cancel her date with Hop, how do you know I didn’t actually do it for your mom?” It’s about half a second after he says that he realizes how it sounds in the framework of the rest of this conversation, “Wait, no, I mean-”

Eddie must catch his mistake the same time Steve does. Throwing his head back in a laugh that shakes through his whole body. It would be cute -- okay, no, it is still cute -- if it weren’t: 1. At Steve’s expense and 2. Enough to send Eddie teetering backward off balance. A foot wrapped around the leg of a chair and a shirt held in Steve’s fisted hand saves Eddie from what absolutely would have been a nasty concussion.

“My hero,” Eddie mouths. Lips wrapping slowly around the words making sure that Steve knows what he’s saying. Distracting him enough that he almost forgets that the kids are there, a blush completely unrelated to the conversation from before creeping up the back of his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Steve,” Will breaks the moment, and for a very uncharitable moment Steve thinks that he actually does deserve Mike Wheeler and his inability to read a room, “can we have one conversation today without you saying something weird about my mom.”

“Steve,” Dustin scolds, “why are you being weird about Joyce!”

Stickiness be damned, Steve buries his head in his hands. Maybe when he opens his eyes this will have all been a strange first date stress induced dream.

“Weren’t we harassing Eddie about my virtue or something,” Steve asks, “can we go back to that?”

He can imagine what Dustin’s face is doing. Eyes rolling, mouth pursed in that annoyed slash smug thing that it does when he can’t decide if Steve is being stupid or not. Knows what he’ll say, ‘What virtue, Steve? We just want to know if we’re going to have to start riding our bikes everywhere again.’

“What virtue?” Damn he was good.

Eddie must take pity on him, cutting Dustin off, “I intend to take anything your sweet babysitter is willing to give me.” His eyes dart up to Eddie’s, sticky elbows forgotten as he lets himself drown in the warm dark waters of the other man’s eyes. Open, honest, and a little unsure, Steve thinks it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

“In that case,” he says, intending to turn that look into something open, honest, and certain, “you twerps might have to start riding your bikes places again.”

Maybe he also wants Will and Dustin to have a turn being on the off foot.

He manages to get the bill taken care of while the kids go back to interrogating Eddie about high school this time; there’s a twinge of something, jealousy maybe, that he’s not the one they’re going to for this. But he can’t deny that Eddie offers a perspective that Steve doesn’t have, the nerd point of view. Advice on how to avoid people like, well people like Steve.

“You want cashback like normal, baby?” 

The other benefit of going to a place like Benny’s instead of somewhere fancy is the staff all know him here. Steve spent a lot of time at the diner: when he didn’t feel like cooking, or he forgot to go grocery shopping, or that one time he had a fever and couldn’t stop dreaming about their chocolate malt. Miss Carrie is his favorite, a matronly woman around his mom’s age who actually has some maternal instincts.

Plus, if he tried a trick like this somewhere nice it would just end up getting back to his parents.

“Ten for me, and take five for you, Miss Carrie.”

She pinches his cheek when she walks by, taking the credit card from his hand in the same motion. It’s a well rehearsed dance by now.

Eddie has that calculating look on his face again. Eyes squinted like he’s trying to bring Steve in to focus somehow lips pursed in a question he hopes the boy doesn’t ask. Wonders if Eddie knows the trick, parents out of the picture but it’s hard to know exactly who got him out and how, why.

Someone’s gotta break the cycle.

Miss Carrie taught him. After coming to the right enough conclusion the wrong way when he came in fresh from a near death experience still wearing the results of being at the wrong end of Jonathan Byers’ anger and flinching when he caught sight of Hopper. Cash keeps and all that shows up on the statement at the end of the month is the final total.

“Gotta keep you around, Harrington, no wonder the service was so good, Big Tipper.”

If there was a market for innuendo, Eddie could make it his career. He doesn’t know if it’s the tone or the downright indecent control that Munson has over his tongue but even the mundane can turn dirty when it’s Eddie.

Not that Steve can’t give as good as he gets.

That’s not the only thing that’s big.

Or

If you like the tip wait ‘til you see the rest.

There was probably something there about a scepter too if he was willing to work a little for it; but it felt a little crass with the kids sitting right there.

Anyway, sometimes it was a little fun to play the fool. He doesn’t have the big doe eyes that Eddie does, but they can bat them just as well. “Well, just as long as you keep me around.”

Oh, was that the right way to go. Shock colored pink blooms across his cheeks and Eddie isn’t fast enough to hide it behind his hair this time. He’s a dream. A vision in color. Steve wonders if they could convince him to introduce a little bit of pastel into his wardrobe, probably not even in his fantasy he can’t imagine convincing Eddie to give up the black. They’ll just have to settle for making him blush. 

“I think it’s time to head out,” Eddie heralds his announcement with a clap that makes the girl at the table next to them jump, “shouldn’t you be getting these gremlins home, Stevie? What kind of babysitter are you keeping them out all day? They probably have homework.”

“It’s a Saturday,” Dustin complains, not as easily ushered out of his seat as Will is by Eddie. 

“Oh and you did all your homework Friday night after it was assigned like a good little nerd?” Eddie asks, a small amount of playful hostility there brotherly almost. It fed the undernourished familial part of Steve’s heart. “Let me tell you a cautionary tale, children, about what happens to bright young people who don’t apply themselves.”

With an arm around both kids' shoulders Eddie shepherding them both out of the diner, wrists  moving with the flow of his story beside Will and Dustin’s heads. He throws a lingering glance over his shoulder at Steve, smile soft but his eyes are mischievous as he winks back at Steve.

He might still be relearning how familial love is supposed to feel, but he's young and very familiar with the floaty chest too tight feeling of infatuation. Eddie is absolutely right, it’s time for the kids to be gone.

Saying that the kids went home without a fight would be like saying Steve’s parents were overbearing, completely inaccurate to the point of being ridiculous. Henderson spent no less than ten of the fifteen minutes it took to get to his house complaining: how they would have just ridden their bikes if they knew the day was going to end at 2, how Steve was going to regret not spending more time with him when he was gone for half the summer -- like it wasn’t only March -- and how Steve was more fun before he had friends his own age. The last one was directed at Eddie, and maybe it's a little pathetic but he kinda likes that Henderson sounds a little jealous, the kid’s his best friend it’s been nice to have a little evidence that he’s more than just a ride around town.

When Byers joins in asking he’s almost done for. His voice so quiet that Steve knows he’s being conned because Byers only ever gets that quiet when he’s trying to hide how deep his voice is getting so he can get away with shit. And it usually works for him. “Can’t we go inside for just one game, Mrs. Henderson said we can have Uno back.”

Any other day and Steve would have folded like the card table they flipped the last time the kids tried to play Uno. But Eddie Munson is in his car with a hand on Steve’s knee and Eddie fucking Munson wants to spend more time alone with Steve teaching him how to play his nerdy little game so that Steve can impress his kids.

“Some other time kid, Eddie’s helping me… study.”

“When did you get so fucking studious,” Dustin gripes. They’re back out in front of the Henderson house.

“Language,” Steve chides, mostly out of habit but maybe a little to soften the sting of him leaving. To let the kid know that if literal wild dogs didn’t scare him away last fall then nothing’s getting rid of him now. Steve loves this kid more than he thought he could care about anyone before, trapped in the emptiness of his parent’s awful house and loveless marriage.

It doesn’t stop Henderson from pouting as he gets out of the car. The apocalypse wouldn’t stop him from slamming Steve’s door on the way. And those don’t stop the tug at his heartstrings when he sees the slump in Dustin’s shoulders as he walks away. “Henderson,” the brave face the kid puts on when he turns around makes it worse, reminds Steve that he’s not the only one who knows what it’s like to walk into an empty house that’s going to be empty for a while. “I’ll see you on Wednesday for family dinner.”

Steve’s basically hanging out his car window now, the hand with all the rings is wrapped around his calf as Eddie keeps them from falling head first out of the car. “I’ll even watch that creepy puppet movie with you after.”

He perks up at that. Steve forgets sometimes just how young thirteen is when he watches how smart and capable the kids are until their shoulders slump and their smiles slip and they’re just children again. “Will you bring those brownies?”

“Sure, Henderson, whatever you want.”

He probably shouldn't resort to bribery to make sure Dustin and the other kids still like him. There aren’t a lot of ways he knows how to show how much he cares though. Words, real words not just the flash and the charm, aren’t one of them. So he does his best with what he can do: being there for the kids, knowing things about them that his parents never knew about him, making sure he knows their favorite movies or has their favorite snacks. He likes being able to know those little things about them, showing he cares by paying attention.

“So I can have the middle piece?” 

A smile is just starting to creep onto his face, and Steve distantly remembers Claudia saying something about dentist appointments and cutting back on sugar. Despite all derogatory nicknames, he’s not actually the kids mom.

“If I’m feeling generous.” Obviously, Dustin always gets the middle piece but it’s part of the ritual to fight over it for a bit.

He lets himself climb back in the car when Dustin’s smile is wide and genuine. Settling back in the driver’s seat while Henderson shouts, “Bye Steve, bye Eddie! Will, walkie me when you’re home.”

Eddie shoots the kid a two fingered salute, grinning back at Steve once Henderson has disappeared into the house. It was a new kind of smile, warm and shy and sweet, showing off the hint of a dimple. If he cups Eddie’s face he could rest his thumb in that little divot, use it to steer him in for a kiss. Maybe keep him there for a while. Keep his thumb rested there, really it was like it was made for Steve to hold him.

Oh.

Well that opened another floodgate of feelings that it was probably too early to be feeling. Domestic thoughts and forever thoughts.

Thoughts not helped by the way Eddie beckons Will closer once they drop him off. The way the two of them whisper conspiratorially, heads so close together that their foreheads are touching. The conversation isn’t for him and despite what the kids believe he isn’t completely blind sided by attractive people, he’s a good enough judge of character. He doesn’t eavesdrop. Steve trusts Eddie, and that whatever he’s talking about with Will that’s got the kid looking so wide eyed and excited isn’t something Steve needs to worry about.

He can just focus on the way Eddie softens when he talks to Will. The way he taps his rings against the side of the car. A rhythmic clink, clink, clink, pause, clink, clink, clink, pause. The way his big brown eyes get impossibly wider when he talks about something that he’s excited about. If today never ended Steve still wouldn't have enough.

With a series nod so excited it made Steve a little motion sick, Will makes his exit with a cheerful, "Bye Eddie!" And a devious, "Steve, I'll tell my mom you said hi."

He's distracted from his comeback, and Eddie's laugh, when the other boy lands a vicious looking punch on his own thigh. Eddie almost doesn’t seem conscious of it, landing a second and third with the side of his fist. They snatch that fist before it can land again, unclenching it and lacing their fingers together. He doesn’t seem mad about this or at Steve it was almost like hitting himself was just something to do. Steve strokes his thumb across the knuckles and rings of that hand anyway and wonders if it was like one of those stim things Dustin does.

"Your place now?" he asks, already heading that way.

Eddie’s, "Yeah," is a little strangled but that's an effect Steve is used to having on people.

Eddie’s trailer reminds him a lot of the Byers’ place. The loved and lived in feeling is there from the second you step through the door. It’s warm even in its emptiness, unlike the furniture catalog that Steve lives in that’s always cold no matter how hot it is outside or how high the furnace is turned up. Eddie gets nervous the same way Joyce and Jonathan would when Steve first started to come over, a reminder of their home that he doesn’t care for as much. Picking up random bits and pieces and shifting them from one place to the other, shifting on his feet and watching Steve with a nervous energy he hadn’t shown all day.

There’s no chance in hell that he’d be able to put into words how little he cares about where Eddie lives, how much he likes that every wall is covered by or with something. How Loch Nora is a prison paid for by parents who don’t care enough. Steve doesn't know enough about class for those words to come out in a way that’s not gonna sound stupid or pandering. So he just won’t.

“So a cleric?”

Much like it does with Dustin, the mention of Dungeons and Dragons kills most of Eddie’s trepidation. “You think you’re ready for that?”

There has yet to be a version of Eddie that Steve couldn’t find himself becoming completely obsessed with. Maybe it’s the jock in him that he hasn’t completely managed to repress, but shy nerdy Eddie is currently his favorite. The way those doe eyes brighten and his smile gets soft. the way he keeps looking at Steve like something unbelievable is happening to him, cheeks pink and hands fluttering. Steve can’t help but imagine him rocking back and forth on his toes in front of the lockers. It makes them want to carry his books to class and wrap him in their letterman. Makes him feel something he thought died in ‘83 with the monster in the Byers’ house, like he could be just a regular teenager again.

“I mean you might need to hold my hand a bit, show me the rules but I’m a fast learner when I’m properly motivated.”

It feels like they’re talking about two things at once, and maybe he’s really only sure he even knows what one of those topics are; but when he spots that dimple again he figures he’s stumbled on something close to the right answer.

“All my stuff is in my room, I can go grab it and bring it out here. Or we can go to your place.”

“And miss my turn to snoop around your room. Nice try, Eds, I wanna see what you’ve got hiding under your bed.”

“Little more scandalous than your Play Girls, Stevie, think you can handle it?” Eddie has sharp teeth, not supernatural sharp but sharper than average canines flash when he smirks. Scandalous, maybe Eddie’s a biter. With teeth like that Steve would be so lucky.

Innuendo abounds.

Steve used to default to it when he was King Steve. It’s easier than being serious, deflecting when people get too close. Flirting because it’s easier than showing something you aren’t ready for them to see yet. Maybe Eddie’s like that too. Teasing because Steve’s coming too close to the things that are covering his sharp edges.

“Which door is yours? I don’t wanna bust in on anyone.”

“Uncle Wayne is working a double, so it’s just us. You can bust wherever you want, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” Steve feels like he sounds whiny right now. But he feels like he has every right to be a little whiny. He’s really trying his best right now to be a good first date, and it’s hard when Eddie is laughing and shedding the leather jacket he’s kept on all day . He is in a crop top which objectively Steve had known since they picked Eddie up this morning but now he’s trying to be a charming first date.

And, well, Eddie has very quickly proved that he has the potential to be everything that Steve has ever dreamed of so it’s getting hard to keep his cool.

“First open door you see is mine, watch your step floor’s not as clean as yours.”

Where Eddie had meandered his way to Steve’s room. They know because he watched him make his way through the party, waiting until he could maybe steal a moment away from the prying eyes of the rest of the party. Steve does not have that kind of self control.

Eddie’s room is Eddie all over. Crowded but not really messy, the bed’s unmade, the shirt he’d been wearing the night before is tossed to the floor, a pair of shoes kicked in the corner. It’s not a mess, Eddie just has things and those things need to go somewhere. A stack of library books as tall as Dustin on a bedside table, minifigures on a bookshelf stuffed with well thumbed paperbacks, more dice than any one person has any reason to own scattered across any available flat surface.

It’s Eddie. 

The only thing Steve would change is the lack of pictures. His walls are papered in band posters and drawings, but there's a lack of Eddie. Maybe he could talk Jonathan into letting him borrow his polaroid again. Will had gifted him with a nice piece of blackmail in between his teasing.

“I do think you’re a cleric or probably more of a paladin, you’ve got oath of devotion written all over you,” Eddie sneaks up on him while Steve is busy trying to decipher the titles on the cracked spines of his bookshelf, “but keeping track of spells and spell components and shit is a lot when you’re starting. So I was thinking last night-”

“You were thinking about me?”

His ears pink, Steve imagines his cheeks do too but he can’t know for sure with Eddie’s back to him. “As a DM, purely campaign style thoughts, if I could continue with them?”

The weight of Eddie’s gaze pins him in place, makes his mouth a little dry in a good way. “Sorry.”

“ I was thinking that the best way to pop your cherry would be to have you try out a human fighter.” Eddie keeps talking like Steve had any hope of hearing anything after pop your cherry . God when did the room get so warm.

“Steeevie, you still with me, sweet thing?”

“Human fighter, sure whatever you say Eds.”

“Careful there, Stevie, you’ll write a check you can’t cash.”

Scandalous . Fuck are those handcuffs by his bed.

“Are you going to teach me how to play or just keep saying words I have no context for?”

Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since they started talking but the eye roll he gets now makes it sweeter somehow.

“DnD is just a big story that you’re telling with your friends. There's rules to help you build your character and how you accomplish certain tasks so you can’t just do whatever you want. That’s what the book you have is for. So you can join a game with anyone in the world and know you’re basically going to play the same way.

“There are some home rules that a group might have. I think it’s kinda shitty that they put in gender and racial limiters, like in game racism and shit so I choose to ignore it. If you play with the same people a lot other rules might pop up. I always check if there’s anything specific the people I’m playing with aren’t cool with: specific violence, Jeff has this thing against slugs. You got anything like that, Sweetheart?”

Steve doesn’t even need to think, “No demogorgons and nothing bad with kids.”

If that surprises Eddie he doesn’t show it. “Noted. Now let’s make you a character.”

It’s a little bit like homework or maybe like doing taxes, a lot of making sure you’re keeping track of specific numbers and putting them under specific headings so that you were ready to use them later. Pausing every few minutes so Eddie could clarify what something meant or why it was important. Making some adjustments to stat placement, “Any other fighter and your charisma would be like your third highest stat at best but it’s you so.”

Once everything is accounted for to Eddie’s standards, including the sword that he’d started doodling in the corner of the page while Steve debated between his Dexterity and Constitution placements. Eddie snatched his notebook paper character sheet away. “I thought I got to keep that.”

“Patience, I’m familiarizing myself with Sir Stephen of Harringstown. Shit, we forgot to give you a weapon. A sword fits your whole knight in shining armor thing.”

“Is there a nail bat? Like a fantasy bat with nails?”

Eddie’s head cocks to the side, like changing his angle will suddenly bring Steve into clearer view. “A mace, probably the closest anyway. Pretty metal actually, a little disgraced knight of the court instead of Prince Charming.” Eddie chatters in a way that makes Steve think at least part of this conversation is for Eddie himself. The way his eyes seem to dance across imaginary pages, slotting things together in a puzzle only he can see. Steve watches the way his hand tenses around a pencil, scribbling a burst of notes on paper like they would escape if he couldn’t get them down fast enough. “You’re a wonder, Harrington.”

“Sure.” What else is there but to agree.

“You alright if I riff a little with your backstory?” 

Steve nods. 

“Then let’s get started,” Eddie’s voice pitches into a dark rasp that has Steve’s stomach swoop and take up residence somewhere in his toes. “Sir Stephen, banished from the courts you once called home, you find yourself in a tavern looking for work and a way out of the city. What would you like to do?"

And that hits a little close to home if he’s honest, “I can do anything I want?”

“Within reason.”

“Can I look around, see if there’s like a job board or something?”

He hands Steve one of the dice in front of him, “Roll this, you’re perceiving so you’re gonna add your Wisdom mod to whatever you roll then tell me the number.” 

If there’s one thing he’s good at it’s doing what he’s told, and whatever he’s rolled must satisfy Eddie who continues, “You spot a notice board in the corner and standing in front of it a man about your age who is in the process of pinning something to the board.”

“What does he look like?” It sounds a little like What are you wearing?

Eddie must hear it too, the smirky domineering thing he’d had going on while extremely attractive falters for a second as a soft flush blooms across his face. “You’ll have to approach him to find out, won’t you.”

“Fine, I do that. What does he look like?”

“What did you say you were into last night? Elven babes?”

“Are you allowed to tease me like this when you’re dungeon mastering, this feels like an abuse of power.”

Eddie sighs, put upon dramatic and completely fake, “He’s about your height and has a lute strapped to his back, think fantasy guitar,” he adds before Steve can clarify. “Long hair, that’s half tied up, he’s a half-elf actually so he’s more human in appearance.”

“That means he’s pretty right,” Steve holds Eddie’s eyes as long as the other boy allows, he’s not dumb this character is meant to be Eddie just as much as Steve is basically just playing himself.

“I don’t know Steve, do you think he’s pretty?”

“Well I think Sir Stephen thinks he’s the prettiest boy he’s ever seen.” If Eddie was pink before he’s scarlet now. “What’s he putting up on the notice board?”

“You could ask him.”

“Fine. ‘Hi there, beautiful, is that something I can help you with?’”

“Well met, m’lord,” Eddie’s voice lilts and drawls in a way that’s captivating and subtly different from normal, “most call me Edmund actually.”

"That's what Eddie's short for? Like Narnia?"

"Nah, this is just where I stopped growing." Steve groans, and the kids said his jokes were bad. "Hey I stole that joke from Robin, I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"I bet it's funny when Robin says it, it's all about delivery, Munson."

“Eddie is short for Edmund, like Narnia, can we get back to DnD?”

“I want to take Edmund’s hand.” Steve snatches real Eddie’s hand from in front of him in demonstration, thinking about that Romeo and Juliet movie they had to watch in class and the bodice rippers his mom tried to hide, “and I want to kiss it,” he helpfully demonstrates once more watching the way Eddie shivers and that blush creeps down his neck. “And I say, ‘I’m Steve.’”

“Sir Stephen, surely.” It would be a reproach if Eddie didn’t sound like he was having a hard time breathing.

“Sure, but I’m Steve to my friends. Doesn’t anyone call you Eddie?”

“Certainly not anyone I’ve just met,” haughty and a little disdainful the challenge makes Steve’s insides light up.

“Guess I’ll just have to win you over then, maybe by helping your quest?”

Real Eddie snorted, mouthing the word quest back at Steve. “Shame I don’t have one of those then.”

“He’s lying right, you just said he was putting something up on the board. Isn’t this whole thing like adventures and shit.”

“Maybe you’re not charismatic enough, Stevie. Or you could try reading what he put up.”

“Plenty charming,” he isn’t pouting except maybe he is going off of the look Eddie is giving him now. “Fine, what does it say?”

“Needed: One escort out of the city. Must be prepared for possible skirmishes.” Steve mouths the word he likes the way it feels but is only half sure he knows what it means. “Reward upon safe arrival to Neverwinter.”

“Can I pull it off the wall?”

Eddie rakes a considering eye across Steve, it makes his body feel hot all over as he forces himself still. “I don’t know, you might have to roll for it, it’s taped up there really good.”

Steve picks a die at random, mostly convinced that Eddie is giving him a hard time. “Does that do it?”

“Oh yeah, he’s real impressed by that show of prowess.” Eddie says, “He asks, ‘Is this your way of applying or have I offended you in some way Sir Stephen?’”

“I also need a way out of the city,” he checks with Eddie who confirms, “and I would feel a lot better if I had a little company. Especially when it’s as nice as yours.”

Eddie makes him roll for it, like that sort of flirtatious persuasion wouldn’t work on anyone -- and Steve was basically an expert on flirtatious persuasion so he should know. Then they get to the part of the game that they figure the kids like so much. Sharing Eddie’s bed it’s not really possible for Steve to be on the edge of his seat; but as Eddie describes the way they have to sneak out of the city, their frantic rush to outrun a hostile guard when Steve fails his stealth check, he feels that fun kind of tension he gets from scary movies. It just makes a lot more sense that his kids would be into this than a game that til that point had been a new way to flirt.

Their knees are touching, cross legged on Eddie’s twin bed Steve can’t help but scoot closer as the action gets more intense. Escaping the guard by the skin of their teeth, sneaking their way out of the city and into the surrounding wilderness. When the pair of assassins that the castle sent to dispose of Edmund catch up to them, Steve is engaged enough that he almost forgets it’s a game. 

Edmund is downed by a shot that Steve isn’t able to block, a bad roll meaning he couldn’t react in time, and the agony that Eddie mimics is real enough to send a bolt of panic down their spine. Maybe it’s the stains on his psyche from that night at the Byers’ that he’ll never be able to scrub clean, the thing that makes him bolt up in panic some nights even now worried that something might come out of the wall. That thing that opened up this protective instinct that Steve had what pushed down? Had ignored and buried under years of being a douche just so he wouldn’t have to be alone?

So maybe, once he’s rolled and is sure he’s successful -- Steve can so win a fight, take that Dustin -- he’s a little vicious in his take down. Taking his mace to the knees of the one that touched Edmund, incapacitating him before bringing the hilt of it down on his face breaking his nose. He lets Eddie confirm that the threat has been eliminated for the time being before he gives in to the urge to check on Edmund.

“He is bleeding steadily from a deep wound in his side,” Eddie narrates, “if you don’t find some way to stop the bleeding he’ll be dead in minutes.”

Steve is thinking he should have added companion death to his list of not okays.

“Can I stop it?”

“Sure, if you can tell me how you would.”

Steve was first aid trained from his summers as a lifeguard, but taping up ankles and basic CPR didn’t seem like it would help much here. It wasn’t really life or death, if Steve couldn’t think of something the Eddie sitting in front of him wouldn’t melt away or bleed out in front of him, but it felt like losing.

“It’s a fantasy world right, can’t I,” this was a serious moment, even Eddie had stilled his near constant movement, so Steve wasn’t going to feel embarrassed about the solution that had come to mind even if it was making  the back of his neck warm, “like true love’s kiss fixes everything, right? In fantasy world?”

“T-true love,” Eddie stutters, and his blush would be really cute if Steve weren’t suddenly remembering that this is an allegory or some shit and he has definitely accidentally revealed his clingy nature

“Yu-yeah, I mean it’s a little early but it’s possible. I mean if it doesn’t work it can be like CPR instead.”

“Can you,” Eddie looks either nervous or nauseous. Chewing on his lower lip, hand tugging at a lock of his hair. “I think I need a demonstration, to decide if that’s something that would work.”

Oh . Well, that he could work with.

They’re close enough that he barely has to lean. Sitting up straighter, they let their weight rest on their left arm so he can bring his right hand up to cup Eddie’s face, tilting from the waist so he doesn’t disturb the game set up they’ve got on the bed. He can feel the nervous stutter to Eddie’s breathing against his lips as he leans in close. Steve can feel his heart in his throat, worries that Eddie can feel how sweaty his hand is. Stomach tied up in knots, he hasn’t been this worried about a first kiss since Nancy or maybe since his first ever kiss. 

And then that tongue sweeps out, wetting Eddie's lips and just barely brushes against his own and Steve's brain shuts down. He succumbs to the pull he feels toward Eddie's mouth, letting their lips meet with a firm yet gentle pressure. He swallows Eddie’s gasp, letting that noise spurn him on. Even though he wants nothing more than to lick into that mouth to see what that tongue he’s been catching peeks of all day tastes like, the slide of their lips stays explorative and chaste. Steve could, without question or hesitation, do that for hours.

But a man’s life was on the line.

“So what do you think?” he asks when he finally brings himself to pull away, “Is that good enough to fix him.”

“God yes, whatever you want,” Eddie agrees, chasing his lips as Steve sits upright again.

“So what happens?”

Papers and dice crumple and scatter as Eddie leans into his space; not supporting himself he tips dangerously until he’s able to catch himself on Steve’s shoulder. “Huh?” A kiss drunk look on his face, those Bambi eyes half lidded and confused.

“What happens to my bard? The game, Eddie.”

“Are you fucking serious, Harrington? You wanna play DnD right now?”

“You weave a compelling story, Munson."

"Why is that hot, fuck." A shaky hand runs through his hair and Steve gives him a minute,  charitable as he waits to see if he's just kissed a fatal wound better.  Cause if he's kept track of this metaphor he's pretty sure that means he has a chance at something more than just casual dating.  "Alright, don't look at me. True love's kiss, fucking paladin shit.

"Okay," Eddie continues after a second. "The strength of your… devotion to your new party member is enough that the worst of his wounds show signs of healing. He says, ‘I guess I have to call you Steve now, huh?’”

“Or the Bard Bodyguard, whichever suits your mood, Eds.” He hasn’t been using a character voice, not the way Eddie has, but he never has to clarify when he’s speaking out of character to ask things like, “He’s really gonna be okay?”

“He's not out of the woods yet, but walking slow you are able to make it to Neverwinter without further incident. The two of you are welcomed into the city with open arms, Neverwinter is a sanctuary for immigrants and enemies of rival governments. You know that this is a place where you can rest easy, recover, for the time being until it’s time to make your next move.

“Now kiss me.”

“Is that Edmund asking or Eddie?”

“Does it matter? Make out with me or I’m going to tell Henderson you call DnD the wrong thing on purpose just to annoy him.”

Well who is he to say no to that.

Time melts away as they kiss. Steve, who needs no assistance reading body language, starts cataloging every reaction he can. The way Eddie gasps when Steve bites his lip just a shade too hard. The moan when Steve tugs on his hair. The surprising lack of the tongue piercing he'd had in Steve's daydreams, but it was a forgivable offense when that tongue was in his mouth. Slowly, they're piecing together what gets Eddie hot. Unfortunately for his libido, Steve is a gentleman, and they are quickly venturing into third date territory now.

Eddie chases his lips again as he pulls away. Steve doesn’t let him catch them.

“I had a lot of fun learning how to play DnD with you.”

“Yeah?” Steve is but a man, and he kisses that dimple as Eddie smiles shy and wide.

“Yeah, you think I could play again sometime?”

“Oh, I think I know a party you could score an invite to.”