Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steve wasn’t… dumb. 

He wasn’t dumb. He could draw out basketball strategies like a pro and fix almost anything with a handful of tools, he was an expert when it came to figuring out exactly how far his Beemer would go with less than a gallon of gas and how many kids could fit in his car without breaking too many laws, he knew how to jimmy open windows on second floor bedrooms in a super discrete way so he could…study… with whichever girl had decided to let him come over and…study. 

Steve wasn’t dumb but sometimes it took him a minute. It took him. A minute. Just to catch up with conversations or a not quite obvious joke or one of those talks girls liked to have when they didn’t talk at all and just stared waiting for him to figure out why they were upset cos the way he was staring mouth open stuttering really sorta seemed like he could figure anything out, right? 

Right? 

Steve wasn’t dumb but sometimes it took a minute to catch up and sometimes it took more than a minute to catch up and the morning after he and Eddie’s date he woke up on the couch alone and confused and definitely needed more than a minute to catch up. 

‘I owe you one’-- Eddie. 

The note was folded creased sharp edged almost perfect and Steve balanced it between his index fingers and stared until his eyes crossed and the letters blurred. 

He needed a minute. 

This didn’t make sense.

“He owes me one.” Steve didn’t even notice the empty house anymore. He didn’t notice the way his words echoed in the foyer as he jogged up the steps and he didn’t notice the dust clinging to the custom colored paint his Mom had insisted on for the trim at the master bedroom door that hadn’t even been opened since. 

May. 

His parents hadn’t been home since May and that was fine. It was fine. His mom had brought groceries the last time she drove through town on her to somewhere better but that had been weeks and weeks ago and it was fine. Fine. Steve didn’t even notice the empty anymore. Not the echo or the dust or the loneliness that landed heavy at his shoulders and slowed his steps and clogged up his mind until he needed a minute. 

He needed a minute to catch up and brush it off and just-- just breathe. 

“He owes me one.” Toothpaste foamed up around his mouth bubbly and minty weird, and Steve narrowed his eyes at his own reflection. “What…does that… mean?” 

Shower were hard sometimes. Hard to exist in for more than a few minutes. Hard to leave once the room fogged up suffocating and Steve could pretend he’d disappeared out of this life and into one less...lonely. Showers were hard to enjoy when shadows felt like monsters and random noises felt like nightmares and sometimes he got lightheaded from the heat and thought he saw flower faced demons lurking behind the shower curtain. 

Nancy used to call long showers liminal spaces, areas where time sorta stopped, where everyone one was coming into the shower or leaving the shower or getting ready for the day and moving in random but pre determined directions but no one was ever there to stay. Nobody was ever in the shower to stay. She said that’s why they were creepy sometimes. Why it was weird to linger. Why after the Upside Outside Everything Wrong Down spaces like bathrooms and waiting rooms and airports and showers  would all feel ick. 

Ick. 

Steve didn’t love that description of his bathroom but Nancy insisted it was real so. 

But. Hey. Nancy had called love real and then she’d called love bullshit so maybe Steve didn’t have to use her words for--

What was he thinking about? 

Showers. Liminal spaces. He didn’t like it. I owe you one. 

“But what does it mean?” Steve mused, shampoo lathering thick in his hair and dripping down his face and pooling in shapes at his feet that made him smile then made him spit cos yuck. Shampoo. “I owe you one. What does that-- I don’t get it.” 

The phone rang when he was getting dressed and Steve shoved his head through a pale pink polo and hurried to catch it. 

Maybe it was Eddie calling to explain the note so Steve could stop obsessing about it. 

Maybe it was his parents calling to say they loved him and missed him and were coming home. 

Maybe pigs were gonna fly or the world was gonna end or something equally unbelievable fuck. 

“Steve.” 

“Eleven.” Steve leaned against the stair rail and smoothed Eddie’s note out on his jeans so he could read it again and again and again, he wasn’t dumb he just needed a minute. “What’s up, you okay? Everybody okay?” 

“I am out of waffles.” 

“Of course you are.” Steve definitely didn’t notice the loneliness and echo and dust but when one of the kids called to check in, it sure felt like maybe he did notice it. “Hop forgot to get groceries?” 

“You said I could call any time.” 

“And I meant it, kiddo.” The phone cord stretched stretched uncoiled and stretched as Steve lunged lunged and inched and lunged until he was in immediate danger of face planting so he could grab a pen from the table. “What else do you need?” 

“Juice. Waffles. A movie to watch. Red Vines. New Coke--” 

“Tell Lucas he can fuck right off with that and tell all the other kids to get their butts to school cos it’s like eight and you all are late.” Steve scribbled out New Coke on his palm. “And don’t-- don’t say the F word. Don’t say that. But seriously what are all the kids doing at your house this early? How did they even get there?” 

“My mom drove us!” Dustin called from somewhere in the background. “And now we’re ditching school and we need snacks!”

“Of course you do.” Steve checked the clock tick tick tick and checked the note I owe you one and thought that maybe the drive out to El’s to kidnap children and forcefully deposit them at school would give him that moment he needed to think. “I’m on my way bringing waffles and duct tape for all you degenerates.” 

A chorus of boos and hisses and adolescent insults clamored through the phone and Steve shouted, “Yeah you little shits are going to school! If I have to suffer through math class so do you!” 

“BOOOOOOOO! Steve you--” 

“Dustin.” I owe you one. “Lemme talk to you a minute. Take the phone in the other room or something.” 

“Steve, what’s up?” 

Steve was going to ask an eighth grader for advice. Maybe he should have been embarrassed about that but Dustin was the smartest person he knew and that included Nancy so. 

So.

“I had a date last night.” Steve started, stopped, took a breath. Started, stopped and tried to keep his mind on the conversation and off the memory of Eddie arching writhing shouting coming all over his hand. 

He needed a minute, Jesus Christ. 

“Steve?” 

“I had a date last night.” Steve started, stopped, took a breath. “This morning they told me ‘I owe you one’. I don’t know what that means.” 

“It means you should go have a conversation before things get weird cos I feel like things are gonna get weird.” 

“Oh.” Blink. “You think?” 

“I’m an expert in physics not in girls, Steve.” 

Oh, right. 

“And also I’m fourteen.” 

Oh. Right. 

“But I don’t think ‘I owe you one’ is what you say after dates. That seems weird. Go talk to her.” 

“Okay.” Steve checked the clock again, notched the phone between his chin and his shoulder and refolded the note, shoving it into his front pocket. “Thanks, man. I knew that. Just needed a minute.” 

“And when you bring El waffles, I would like a soda.” 

“Go ahead and fuck right off, Henderson.” 

“Steve! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!” 

Steve thought about the dust and the echoes and the loneliness and couldn’t find a smile. “Nope. Sure don’t.” 

*

Steve’s class schedule lined up with Eddie’s at third period, at lunch and at the end of the day and only at the end of the days that turned into Hellfire meeting nights cos Steve had to bring the kids back and forth and he couldn’t very well do that without seeing Eddie so that"s. That’s that. That’s how they’d become friends. 

Not in third period when Eddie sat in the back long legs long arms long limbs splayed everywhere staring up at the ceiling arguing with the teacher over whether or not Shakespeare was writing Sonnets to a man or woman or both. 

Not at lunch because Steve sat with his team and then he’d sat with Nancy and now he sat with his team again and didn’t watch Nancy from across the room just like he didn’t watch Eddie’s theatrics at his regular table and just like he didn’t watch when Eddie not subtly disappeared from the lunch room with his not suspicious lunch box to hang out in the not suspicious woods and sell good decent upstanding All American good kids the devil’s lettuce. 

That wasn"t when he and Eddie had become friends. Nothing-- nothing about devil’s lettuce and kids who wanted to be bad but were too scared to be anything other than good. 

Good kids who wanted to be bad kids were mean kids and kids man, kids were so so mean and not even copious helpings of salad would chill them out.

Steve knew it wasn’t salad. Duh. He knew it wasn’t lettuce but every time he joked about adding dressing to the salad baggies Eddie looked at him all eyebrows and wide eyes and disbelief and Steve thought, he thought, maybe Eddie was real beautiful like that. 

Mike made fun of him for days for the Dad jokes but Eddie always laughed long and obnoxious and screeching Harrington! at the top of his lungs and Steve thought, he thought and thought and thought about just how beautiful Eddie was when he laughed. 

Steve thought a lot about that. He always needed a minute to think about Eddie laughing. Not cos he was dumb just cos-- cos it was a lot to think about. And he needed a minute. 

Steve didn’t get to see Eddie laugh cos they were friends through third period or lunch. He got to see Eddie laugh cos of Hellfire. Doom and-- and Gloom. Damsels and-- Distress.

He didn’t know. 

Whatever.

The game. It was the game, the one Eddie played and Dustin played and all the other little gremlins played that Steve was maybe sorta kinda intimidated to try so he just showed up to pick the kiddos up and cracked Dad-jokes about lettuce and let Eddie laugh and that was how they’d become friends. 

Steve wasn’t Eddie’s only friend, he knew that. The drama club loved Eddie. The Hellfire club considered him their hero. Every single day Steve glanced down to watch Eddie open his locker and there were always notes waiting for him that he read real quick and then hurried off to answer. 

And. Well. Steve knew he wasn’t Eddie’s only friend but he still thought their friendship was maybe the best one. Eddie quoted poetry in class and made up song lyrics on the spot and Steve always needed a minute to process them while Eddie stared at him all puppy dog eyes and a smile hid behind a piece of his hair and that was the best. Steve charmed extra desserts out of the terminally grumpy lunch ladies and Eddie scrunched his nose and called Steve ‘good sir’ and that was the best. 

And on Hellfire nights Eddie came out and leaned all over Steve’s car and into Steve’s space and that was how they became friends. He lounged like it was his Beemer, like he wanted Steve to stare, spun around hilarious and manic talking about the campaign and shared a cigarette right from Steve’s mouth and sometimes Steve needed a minute to figure out which stars had fallen from the sky and landed in Eddie’s eyes. 

That was when they’d become friends, all those nights outside the drama room while the kids gathered their stuff and that was the best cos it started spilling over into third period when Eddie tossed bits of paper his way and into lunch when Steve could sorta tackle him in the halls and steal a hug and into last night when Steve had finally gotten up the courage to ask Eddie over for a date. 

Finally. Courage. That had taken a whole lotta minutes to stop and think and work it out and Eddie had showed up and hung out but-- 

I owe you one. 

One what? 

Steve had thought the note was the right way to go. All of the other friends wrote Eddie notes so it seemed like a safe choice. 

I owe you one. 

One what? 

“Eddie! Hey!” Steve was late. Fucking gremlins had put up a fuss about going to school and El refused to leave-- honest to god held the cabin door closed with one hand until after she’d finished the appropriate amount of breakfast food and then god Max had pummeled Mike half to hell for farting on her while they were in the backseat and Steve had to pull over before a trip to school devolved into homicide…

Anyway. 

He was late. Missed third period with Eddie. Had to hover outside Eddie’s locker to make sure he didn’t miss him at lunch and Steve didn’t have peanut butter bars to smooth over any awkwardness from last night-- was it going to be awkward? He didn’t want it to be awkward.

He didn’t have peanut butter bars but he had the note folded and creased and clutched in his hand till his palms were sweaty and the blue ink from writing El’s grocery needs was bleeding into the paper. 

“...Steve.” 

Eddie was beautiful fuck he was beautiful and he was clothed but Steve’s gaze dropped helpless and maybe maybe hungry? Down to his chest like he could see the silver bars stuck through Eddie’s nipples if he just stared hard enough. His jeans were torn up and his shirt was a size too tight and his hair was messy like he’d fallen asleep in math and he looked amazing. 

“You look amazing.” Steve’s smile was too wide and too goofy and, “Those jeans are crazy, man.” and his whole body heated thinking about the weight of that belt in his hands and how Eddie had been pale and flawless and dark curls at the vee of his hips and--

“I don’t look amazing.” Flat. Final. Dull and that was wrong. That was. Wrong. “And it’s just my jeans man. Just. Jeans.” 

“Right. Jeans.” The note crumpled damp in Steve’s palms and he tucked it away, he was anxious nervous and Eddie wasn’t smiling so that was. Wrong. “Eddie. What uh-- what’s with your note? What was your note about?” 

“I feel like it was pretty self explanatory.” Eddie opened his locker and Steve stepped back out of the way with an awkward little jump, shuffled back another step when a note fell out of the locker vent and landed by his feet. “Do you want me to grab that for--” 

“Don’t.” Don’t. Not angry but so so sad as Eddie picked up the note that Steve had to lean over and push into Eddie’s space and ask, “Are you okay?” 

The note went unread into Eddie’s pocket. Books shoved messy onto the metal shelves. Something was wrong. Eddie wasn’t smiling and it wasn’t right. 

“What do you want, Steve?” Eddie looked like he was trying to smile and just couldn’t quite manage it and Steve needed a minute to figure out why that was. 

What was Eddie hiding?

“What um.” Focus. “What did your note mean, that you owe me one?” 

“Exactly what it said.” Eddie swallowed and Steve watched his throat move, regretted suddenly that he hadn’t marked Eddie up good the night before, that he hadn’t bit down on the smooth column and got a big fucking bruise right there so everyone would know what they’d done. 

What Steve wanted to do. 

So everyone would know he kept hearing that noise Eddie made ringing round in his head like all the best music he’d ever listened to ever. 

“Exactly what it said.” Eddie repeated and Steve cocked his head cos what? What? 

“It’s.” Eddie swallowed. Steve couldn’t look away. 

“It’s you know.” Softer, shuffling closer and eyes darting everywhere unless someone was looking. 

Steve didn’t care if anyone was looking. 

Did Eddie care? 

“It’s.” Eddie’s rings looked heavy when he pressed his knuckles to his mouth hiding. “Equality, right? It’s um tit for-- for tat. You got me so-- so I’ll get you. Another time.” 

“Is this about pizza?” Steve lowered his brows, pursed his lips. “Or the cost of renting a movie? Cos I don’t care about that. It was a date, Eddie, that sorta stuff comes included. Has nothing to do with--” 

A quick exhale. “--boobs. And tattoos.” 

“We.” Eddie blinked and oh no Steve had misinterpreted something. “We aren’t talking about boobs and tattoos.” 

“You said tits.” Steve pointed out far more confident than he was feeling. “And tats. That’s-- you know. Boobs. Tattoos.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie laughed then, not loud and obnoxious like when Steve talked about Ranch dressing and lettuce but breathless. A little huffy. Maybe fond and maybe incredulous like he couldn’t believe Steve had said that. “You are very pretty, Steve.” 

“Oh.” Steve grinned. “Well thank you.” 

And then, “Wait. Are you saying that cos I didn’t get something? Cos Dustin does that sometimes and--” 

“Steve.” Oh Eddie came closer, angled in closer and Steve liked that but Eddie didn’t look like he liked it and Steve thought maybe he should back up cos he didn’t want Eddie close if Eddie was uncomfortable. 

He didn’t understand how they went from sleeping cuddling spooning each other for half the night to being uncomfortable just standing close. 

He didn’t like it. 

Felt like maybe Eddie regretted things and he didn"t-- Steve-- 

This wasn’t a regret. He just needed a minute to figure out what wa going on. 

“Steve.” Eddie wasn’t quite looking at him, was looking off over Steve’s shoulder and then at the ceiling and then down at the ground. “I mean. On the couch. When you--” 

Those long fingers uncurled to flatten at Eddie’s thigh, dragging down a few inches then back up and up towards his zipper and, “You know?” and oh. 

Oh yeah Steve remembered that. 

“Yeah.” Steve’s smile was too wide again. Goofy. “Yeah, I sure did that, didn’t I?” 

“Um.” Eddie’s mouth parted curious like he hadn’t expected Steve to smile over it. “Well I didn’t. Anything, I mean. I didn’t do anything for you. So now I owe you one. Make it equally. Tit for-- tat.” 

“Not boobs.” Steve nodded a few times. “Got it.” 

“Oh you’re so pretty.” Eddie said under his breath and this time Steve knew he was teasing but it was still nice to hear, alright? Everyone liked to be told they were pretty, okay? It wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“Oh but no.” Steve shook his head. “Wait no, you don’t owe me one. I mean I wouldn’t mind next time if we-- next time, you know. When I don’t fall asleep like an asshole and make it awkward. Next time we should-- like it would be great if you wanted to--” 

“Wow.” Eddie blurted loud and Steve paused confused. “Wow no one uh-- no one ever says there will be a next time. I mean shit, sometimes it’s like a threat or whatever about there never being a next time if I don’t do it right so that’s-- you--” 

This time Eddie swallowed and it looked painful. “It’s a nice change. Planning on a next time.” 

Steve had the oddest feeling that his stomach had disconnected and dropped six and a half feet under. That literal sinking feeling. He didn’t like it. 

“What are you talking about. Sometimes it"s a threat?” 

“Oh don’t do that.” Eddie was whispering now, whispering like it made him bleed. “Don’t do that Steve, don’t act like you don’t know. Don’t be like that about it.” 

“What--” 

“I don’t make it weird for you guys.” Eddie usually had stars in his eyes but today it looked like tears. “I don’t make it weird for you guys so don’t make it weird for me. Don’t act like you don’t know just-- it’s easier to just say it. To not pretend. I don’t like to pretend. Um not--” 

What was happening right now? 

“Not with you.” 

“I don’t.” Steve was lost, just a lost boy knowing it would take way more than a minute to figure this out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eddie. What are you talking about?” 

“You left me a note, Steve.” 

“Yeah.” he tapped the note still stuck in his jeans pocket. “And?” 

“Just like all the other ones do.” Eddie waited but Steve didn’t get it and then Eddie dug in his pockets and pulled out the folded note from a minute ago and waved it close too close to Steve’s face. “You know? Just like all the other ones do? You left me a note!” 

Eddie was angry. Embarrassed and angry and hurt about something and Steve wanted to be able to stop it but he didn’t understand yet so he asked hesitantly, “Eddie can you just-- can you slow down a minute? I don’t get it, alright? I don’t get it. I.. shouldn’t? Have left you a note?” 

“Maybe I’ll just read it to you.” Eddie usually had stars in his eyes but today it looked like tears. 

“You don’t have to read me a note someone else left you, Eddie.” Steve tried to argue but Eddie argued right back, “I really didn’t think you’d be like this about it Steve but fine. If you’re gonna be a dick about this and make it weird then I’m gonna be a dick right back.” 

“I--” Steve shouldn’t have thought about Eddie naked just then but he couldn’t help it. “Eddie wait--” 

“This note.” The paper was crumpled up like trash, handwriting barely legible, shoved in Steve’s face. “This note right here. You left me a note exactly like this one and I’ve gotten enough of exactly these notes to understand how it goes. You understand how it goes so stop pretending.” 

“I don’t-- I don’t--” 

“I owe you one.” Eddie dropped the note like it was burning him and Steve caught it clumsily in both his palms. “I owe you one and I’m gonna get you one so you don’t find some bullshit reason a few weeks down the road to hurt me. To take your frustration out on me. To accuse me of leaving you hanging or being selfish or whatever. I owe you one, I’ll get you one, then we’ll be square. Even. Just-- just leave me another note. Time place whatever. You know the drill now, so.” 

Weaker, shaky. “So just-- just do the thing. Leave me a note. I’ll figure it out.” 

The note was crumpled up like trash, shoved through the vents of Eddie’s locker that it was the appropriate place for trash and that bothered Steve in the always protective part of his heart that led to him fighting people for Will and thrashing on bigger boys just so Max could skate in peace. 

But what bothered him more was what the note said. 

“Bleachers.” he read soft soft and already horrified. “Gym class. Expect to choke on my--” 

No no no, what? 

“Gonna make you cry, gonna make you--” 

No no no what?

Usually Eddie had constellations worth of stars in his eyes but today there was nothing but tears and a dangerous, dark flicker that matched the one Steve sometimes saw in the mirror when he tried to convince himself the dust and echoes and loneliness and liminal spaces didn’t bother him. 

“Eddie.” He was gonna throw up. “Eddie?” 

“Don’t act so surprised, Steve.” Low. Angry. Maybe a little bit confused. “You left me a note too.” 

“Not like this.” Not. Not this. “Not like this Eddie I thought, I thought--” 

He was too hot. Too cold. Too horrified staring down at familiar handwriting and those goddamn words. 

“I thought you liked me.” It wasn’t the right thing to say but it was the only thing Steve could say, he needed another minute before he could say the right thing about the note. “I thought you liked me and you-- you thought.” 

Eddie had thought--

“You thought I was treating you like this?” Maybe it wasn’t tears in Eddie’s eyes, maybe it was crushed glass slicing deep cos there was no way Eddie could read these notes like Steve was trying to read the note and not feel cut up in a thousand different places. 

“Eddie I thought you liked me.” It was all he could say. “I like you and I thought you liked me but you thought I was doing this? You think I’d do this? You think I’m that kind of person?” 

“No.” Honest, but somehow hurtful all the same when Eddie just shrugged about it. “No, I didn’t think you were that kind of person. But. You know. You left me a note. So.” 

“I bring you peanut butter bars!” 

“Sure you do.” Eddie wouldn’t look at him. “But the other guys that leave me notes--” 

“There’s more than one? That does this?!” Steve’s voice was high pitched and terrible and couldn’t be bothered to care. “Who?!” 

“It’s your teammates.” Soft. “I figured. Locker room conversations, right? You guys talk. Figured you knew.” 

“I drive the kids to Hellfire club and we smoke together.” No no no. “We laugh in English class. I bring you peanut butter bars. We-- we hug sometimes! I thought you liked me and-- and holy shit. Holy shit this is what you thought I was doing when I invited you over?” 

“Steve--” 

“This is Tommy H’s handwriting.” Steve knew that handwriting better than he knew his own thanks to years years of copying each others homework and forging signatures and notes. “This is Tommy H.” 

“Oh.” Eddie winced. “Yeah. Well.” 

“Well.” The paper tore easily, shredding beneath Steve’s fingers into a dozen little pieces that he crammed into his pocket so they would never ever end up back in Eddie’s locker, not even a shred of that note would end up in Eddie’s locker fuck.

“Well.” he said again, breathed through his nose and set his jaw. “Today might be the day I go to jail for murder.” 

“Steve.” 

“You thought this is what I was doing to you.” Steve bent over double and dragged his palms down his thighs, searching for one brain cell worth of calm that would keep him from beating Tommy’s skull in with his bat. “I thought you liked me and you said yes to me cos you thought I was doing this?” 

“Steve.” 

“I had my hands all over you.” Steve’s turn to whisper, soft like it hurt, ragged like all the cutting glass crushed up and reflecting in Eddie’s eyes, staring at the floor cos he couldn’t look at Eddie while Eddie thought he had meant that when he left a note. “The-- the way you sounded when I touched you-- Eddie I dreamed about you all last night and you thought it was this?” 

Steve had stopped running away from things a long time ago. Third grade when he got bullied and his Dad told him to toughen up. In sixth grade when he beat the big boys for calling Eddie names. When he was fifteen and got black out drunk cos he refused to run away from a dare. When Will got found. When he met El. When he realized that not everything called a dog was actually a dog and learned about faces that opened up with hundreds of teeth and roars like night terrors. 

He’d stopped running away a long time ago but he ran away now, took all the shredded trashy pieces of that goddamn note and the mental image of Eddie hating him and the tainted memories of their date and he ran. 

I thought he liked me. 

*

There’d been a basketball game. Hawkins High had won. Steve had scored the winning basket. 

The crowd was cheering and Tommy H was bleeding, screaming, holding his face where Steve’s elbow had connected with his nose and maybe broken it. 

It was supposed to be a celebratory hug like they’d done dozens of times since junior high ball but Tommy had rand up and Steve had moved and--

And. 

“Didn’t see you there.” Steve said when Tommy went down wailing. “Huh.” 

Steve wasn’t a mean guy. He wasn’t a dumb guy. He objectively knew how to apologize and how to do a good job apologizing but sorta kinda objectively the words wouldn’t come when everyone gathered around gasping and Tommy kept sobbing. 

Words wouldn’t come. Steve wasn’t a mean guy. But. It was. 

This is what it was.

He would absolutely absolutely throw his other elbow and crush the other side of Tommy’s fucking face if that"s what it took to erase those words on that note and the sadness on Eddie’s pretty pretty mouth. 

Huh. 

Could have been worse. 

Steve could have used his bat. 

There’d been a basketball game. A bloody nose. And then a lot of alcohol because Steve needed a lot of alcohol to figure all this out. 

“Eddie!” The trailer park was quiet or maybe Steve was just loud but either way his shout brought Eddie scrambling to the front door and hissing “Hush!” while Steve stood in the little front yard and flung his arms out and shouted. 

“Goddammit, what are you doing here?” Eddie looked soft tonight, cozy sweats and a torn up tank top and Steve wanted to eat him just so he could have something so soft and pretty inside him. 

Not that-- no there were-- there were other ways to get Eddie inside him. 

But Steve was drunk. Basketball game. Bloody nose. Trailer park. Drunk. 

The other ways, the other inside ways, that-- that would have to wait. 

Later. 

“Eddie!” 

“Everyone heard you the first time.” Eddie folded his arms tight, shook his hair around his face hiding. “Why are you here? Why are you yelling?” 

“I am so--” drunk. “--so mad about the notes, mannnnn so mad about them.” 

“Steve, it’s not--” 

“Did I take advantage of you?” Steve lit a cigarette just so he’d have something in his mouth to maybe curb his shouting. This was a big important problem and it needed loud important words but Eddie didn’t want him yelling so he lit a cigarette and puffed at it irritably and asked again. “Did I-- did I force you?” 

“Steve.” 

“I should have known.” Puff puff exhale. “I should have known you didn’t want to be there.” 

“I was always going to show up, Steve.” Eddie sat heavy on the bottom step of the trailer, knees folded and arms folded and chin on his arms, hiding. “Even if your note was like the other guys. I just-- I kept hoping maybe it wasn’t.” 

“It wasn’t!” 

“I’m starting to see that.” Quiet quiet quiet but just loud enough to make Steve smile hopefully. “A little bit.” 

“I don’t uh-- I don’t have words?” Steve never had the right words, he always needed a minute to find them but he didn’t want to waste any time tonight. And he was drunk, so. Rushing forward it was. 

“I don’t have the right words.” He gestured to his head. “To make this all better. But I’m sorry. Sorry cos I should have known you were faking. That you didn’t want it. You weren’t talking.” 

“No one’s ever made me do anything I didn’t want to do.” Eddie probably meant it to be reassuring but all it did was twist Steve’s heart up painful. “And what-- what do you mean I wasn’t talking?” 

“You weren’t talking.” He repeated. “You talk big--” he waved his arms. “With your hands and wacky face and you-- you-- pace. Waving your arms. Big motions. Lots of words like when you campaigning--” 

Steve watched Eddie campaign. Didn’t used to. Used to just sit outside and steal a few moments with Eddie at the end of the night but the last few weeks he’d shown up and hung out in the corner pretending to read but really just watching Eddie glow, watching Eddie light up the room and twist dancing around talking big. 

“You didn’t do that the other night.” Nope. “You were quiet. You’re never quiet. I should have known. Should’a realized something wasn’t right.” 

“It wasn’t.” Eddie pulled at his lip. “It wasn’t not right. It wasn’t bad.” 

“Were you faking?” 

“When?” 

“All of it!” Steve was shouting again, the cigarette wasn’t doing anything to muffle him so he tossed it away in disgust. “Us being friends! Smiling and hanging out and sharing smokes and--and messing with Dustin! Were you faking all of it, or just-- just--” 

Please please no. 

“Just our date.” He finished quieter. “Just coming over and the-- the movie and the way I--” 

Please please no. 

“On the couch.” Steve stared at the ground till it swirled around and made him dizzy. “Eddie were you-- on the couch. Faking. Did you fake… that?” 

“I dunno if it’s possible to fake that.” Any other time they might have laughed about that sentence. “There’s you know. Physical. Proof. That I wasn’t faking.” 

“But.” Steve scratched his nails down his face, hoping the pain would ground him before he went off and said something really stupid. “The noise you made when you-- when I-- fuck Eddie. Were you faking any of that?” 

“...no.” 

“When you kissed me?” 

“No.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” A beat, and then, “Besides. You’ve never won a fight in your life, Steve. I wasn’t faking but it’s not like you could’a… made me. You know?” 

“I never want you to say anything like that ever again.” Steve hissed out the words vicious. “Don’t-- not-- nobody’s gonna make you do anything. Not me not anyone, I would kill them. Do you understand? I would kill them if they-- if they tried.” 

“I know.” 

“And hey.” Huffy now. “I’ve won fights.” 

“Oh that’s blatantly false.” 

“You’re cat--uh--categorically rude.” 

Silence. Eddie kept sitting there and Steve finally dragged his eyes off his shoes and up to watch Eddie sitting there and after he got his breath back he whispered, “Eddie I don’t care about all that.” 

Eddie twitched and Steve tried again, “I mean, I don’t care about the other guys or whatever you do with them so long as you’re okay.. I’m pissed about the notes but not at you. For you. Not pissed at you, for you. Fuck those guys for making you feel like that, for shoving trash in your locker and writing fucking horrible things to you and hey fuck me for not realizing it was happening with the team.” 

“I mean.” He laughed but it wasn’t funny. “They’d probably treat me the same way if they knew I was-- I was--” 

“If they knew you were…” Eddie raised both eyebrows and Steve realized in a briefly illuminated moment of sobriety, 

“Oh. Oh I should tell them.” 

“What the hell are you doing right now, Steve?” 

“Oh it’s so simple!” Steve threw his hands up-- a mistake, because he was drunk. “I should tell them! That I like guys and girls, that I like you! I should tell them I like you and then I should tell them to leave you the fuck alone!” 

Sometimes Steve felt icky inside, sometimes he felt like something black and creeping and tar thick was hovering at his edges. It came out when he held his bat. Showed up the night someone called Will Zombie Boy and again when the bullies had made El cry. Flickered hot tonight when he’d read that note and then watched Tommy H flail about injured. 

Sometimes Steve felt icky inside and it leaked through oily dangerous razor sharp on his tongue when he said, “Everyone knows what happens when they mess with people I love. Shit, I carry a bat filled with nails in my trunk and I’ve never wanted to use it on a person but I’d be real fucking tempted to--” 

“STEVE!” Eddie yelped half panicked and maybe half intrigued and Steve snapped back to the moment. 

To the issue. 

To the lack of stars in Eddie’s eyes and what he could do to fix that. 

“I’ve been informed I’m not allowed to have a crisis when this is about you being treated badly.” Steve held up both hands and sloppily clarified, “Not that I actually told anyone details. But I was told in no uncertain terms by an extremely concerned French Horn player that I don’t get to freak out when it"s my boyfriend that matters so I’m gonna shut up and kiss you now.” 

Eddie’s eyes went very wide and Steve wondered if it was the boyfriend thing or the French Horn thing or the kiss thing that had him confused. 

“Okay actually, I should sober up.” He decided just then and backed up a step. “I should sober up and clear my head and then I’m gonna kiss you.” 

“I-- oh..” 

“No no. No wait.” he ran a hand through his hair and wished it did anything other than make him realize how much product he’d used today. “No wait. I don’t want you thinking I’m gonna change my mind if I’m sober, so I"m gonna kiss you now and then kiss you again when I’m sober and then you’ll know I’m not one’a those guys and that was not that sorta note and we’ll be okay, okay?” 

“Or.” He stopped, squinted at Eddie uncertainly. “Can I kiss you? I should have asked. Can I kiss you? You can say no. In fact, you should tell me no and I’ll be fine with it just to prove that I am fine with you saying no and then--” 

“Steve?” 

“Eddie I wanna do this right, goddamnit it I feel like shit about this and I want to make sure that you know--” 

“Steve.” Eddie unfolded lanky from the bottom step, straightening up and smoothing down his clothes nervous and nodding quick like he was gonna say-- “Yes. Just. Come on. And-- and yes.” 

Yes.

“C’mere.” Steve ran the distance between them, stumbling over rocks and skidding on gravel running until he could grab Eddie’s hands, his arms, his shoulders, his face and kiss him. “C’mere right here, right here baby c’mere.” 

It was a good kiss. Steve felt like it was a good kiss. He might not always get jokes or weird conversations or subtext but he knew how to kiss and this kiss felt like it mattered a lot. 

It mattered a lot that he got to sink his fingers into Eddie’s hair and direct the kiss so everything was just the right angle and it mattered a lot that when he pushed his tongue at Eddie’s mouth and licked that Eddie opened up with a little noise that made Steve’s entire body harden. 

It mattered so so much that Steve drag his hands down Eddie’s back, dig into the lean muscles and circle the narrow waist, then hook into the belt loops and urge Eddie in in in so he could reach lower and palm over Eddie’s ass and held him steady when Eddie’s knees buckled and they nearly fell. 

“Fuck.” Steve’s voice didn’t work quite right when they parted and his balance was pretty severely compromised but Eddie was smiling and that’s all that mattered. 

“Fuck, I kissed you.” Another one, just quick on Eddie’s nose cos Eddie made that little noise again and flushed dark red beneath the porch lights. “I kissed you. That was a good kiss.” 

“It was.” Eddie swept a piece of hair over his face, hid another smile behind long fingers and all those rings and Steve didn"t know shy was so goddamn sexy until that exact moment. “It was a good kiss.” 

“I kissed you.” There needed to be space between them or Steve was gonna kiss him again and there were still words that needed to be said, so there needed to be space. 

“Holy shit, I kissed you.” There it was. Steve’s smile. Too wide. Too goofy. He didn’t care. “I kissed you and now I’m gonna go and sober up and then I’m gonna ask you on a date.” 

“Oh.” 

“A real date.” he pointed out hastily. “A real date. Not a note in your locker but. I mean. Maybe. Cos I think that’s romantic. Notes. But if will be a good note and a good date. I’m gonna find you.” 

Eddie did that breathless little laugh again. “You’re gonna leave a good note in my locker? Gonna find me?” 

“Not in a creepy way.” Wow Steve was drunk. “But um. Don’t hide from me. Nope. That still sounded creepy. Um. The point is.” 

Hands on hip and Steve pointed and Eddie laughed again. “The point is, I’m gonna ask you on a date. Watch out.” 

“Watch out?!” 

“Okay that was creepy too.” Steve sighed loud and offered over a smaller smile, “Just. Be at school? So I can ask you on a real date?” 

“I’ll… be there.” 

“Good.” Steve spun around to leave-- a mistake, good gravy was he drunk. “Oh. Eddie. For the record?” 

Eddie looked up, Steve took a deep breath in and admitted hushed, “I do dream about the way you sounded when I touched you. And I have every intention of hearing it again.” 

Too wide, too goofy, too big of a self satisfied and wholly excited grin. “I would like to very politely ask you to blow my ear drums out, babe.” 

“Oh my god.” There was a real laugh, loud and a little obnoxious and whole galaxies sparking in Eddie’s eyes when he exploded into giggles and then tried to cover his mouth and muffle it. “Steve! You are drunk.” 

“Yes.” Yes. “I definitely am. Doesn’t change anything though. I promise.” 

“Maybe I’ll hold you to that.” 

“Maybe you should.” Steve rubbed at his chest, rubbed at his heart when it twinged like it was gonna break if Eddie didn’t believe what he said next. “I won’t-- I don"t want you to regret taking a chance on me. No regrets. Not with me. Us. I’ll plan a great date and ask you out right and make sure you don’t regret saying yes. Okay?” 

“I’d never regret you, Steve.” Eddie sounded like maybe his heart might break a little bit too. “Not you. Never.” 

Steve managed to leave without tripping over his feet or blurting out anything else crazy or even running forward and kissing Eddie again.

He managed to get all the way back out to the waiting car and in next to Robin who only looked at him and sighed and then looked at him and sighed before pulling out and driving away slowly into the night.  

“Steve. This is Dustin.” the radio on the front seat crackled to life and Robin did another one of those looks and sighs when Steve picked it up. “How did your mysterious thing go tonight? Did you fix everything? Over?” 

“I dunno man.” Steve closed his eyes, slurring the words a little bit. “I’m super drunk and said some stupid stuff but-- but um. His face tastes yummy.” 

“Ewwwwwwww!” Dustin shrieked and Robin snorted through a laugh and Steve didn’t care cos he was happy. 

“Go t’bed, Dustin. Gremlins aren’t sposed to be out after midnight.” 

“You’re supposed to say over, over.” 

“OVER AND OUT GODDAMNIT!” Steve chucked the radio in the back seat and Robin kept snorting as she laughed and after a minute he laughed too. 

“You’re a weird guy, Steve Harrington.” Robin signaled to turn onto main street, looked over and socked him in the shoulder. “No way anyone else knows you’re weird like this. You wouldn’t be King of the School if anyone besides me would have just seen that.” 

“S’fine.” Steve waved her off and sagged lower into the seat. “Who care about bein’ King if I can’t have… Queen… love…” 

He didn’t remember getting home. 

In the morning he was hungover. 

Not so hungover that he couldn’t write a note and fold it into a paper heart and sprinkle it with a little glitter so it was ready for school, ready for Eddie. 

The shower didn’t bother him, neither did the echo or the dust or the loneliness as he ate a bowl of cereal inside the huge kitchen then ran upstairs to do his hair. 

“Not gonna make you regret this.” Steve muttered as he dragged a comb through the tangled mess. “It was a damn good kiss and I wrote a damn good note and--” 

*ring ring*

“Steve.” 

“El?” 

“Dustin said you think faces are yummy?” 

“What? I--?” Steve sighed, shifted his weight, curled the phone cord around his finger and thought about Eddie. “Just-- Just one face. Just one face.” 

“Is it love?” 

“Guess we’ll find out and see, huh?” 

*******

Chapter Notes: 

YOU GUYS. I can’t believe so many of you read and loved Dirty Little Secret, I hope y’all like this one just as much. 

Steve is...everything? I love him. He’s awkward but earnest and goofy and beautiful and a good person right down to his core. Ready to throw hands and elbows to protect Eddie’s honor. The World’s Best Babysitter. Full Fledged Goober. Drunk and hollering truth out in the middle of the trailer park. The total package. 

Up next: They go on a date and it’s just fluffy fluff goodness (and maybe sexy times?)