Archive of Our Own ^beta

Eddie Munson has always been quiet.

It’s not that he doesn’t have anything to say; he does, sometimes. He loves to tell stories and rant about his interests, to sing along to his favorite metal songs and compliment his friends on the exceptional things they do.

So it’s not that he doesn’t have anything to say. He just doesn’t have the words to say it.

When his mom died and his dad fucked off to god-knows-where to do god-knows-what, Eddie started making an effort to be as small as possible. He stopped blasting metal music when his uncle was home or his neighbors were outside. He stopped vocal stimming when people were around, and he tried to keep the physical stimming to a minimum. He wore socks around the house because it was easier to tip-toe around without making the trailer creak.

And on top of all of that, he didn’t talk. He didn’t talk much before, anyways, so it wasn’t much of a change. His mom was the only person he ever really spoke with, and even then he felt that he had a very limited number of words he could use.

Uncle Wayne knew that Eddie was autistic—Eddie’s mom had told him back when Eddie was diagnosed. He didn’t know much about it beyond the fact that Eddie didn’t talk, especially not to Wayne, and things bothered him that Wayne himself would never think twice about.

Gaining custody of Eddie was terrifying for Wayne. Here’s this kid who has just lost both of his parents before he even finished middle school, who now has to move in with his uncle that he’s barely ever even met and definitely won’t feel comfortable around. Wayne was terrified to mess up, to hurt Eddie in ways that couldn’t be undone.

But Eddie never gave him any indication that he was doing anything wrong. In fact, Eddie never really did much of anything. He’d come eat the dinner that Wayne cooked, shuffling his feet underneath the table and avoiding eye contact at all costs, and he’d clean up any mess he might have made before going right back to his room where Wayne wouldn’t hear from him again until the next day. Other than that, the only time he really even realized that Eddie was there was when he came and went from school, needing Wayne to drive him.

Wayne knew it wasn’t personal. Eddie was just quiet. But he still wanted to know this kid that had suddenly become his , wanted to find a way to communicate so that he could take care of him better. He had no idea if Eddie was okay, or if he needed help or was struggling with anything.

Eddie was in his room when it happened. He was sitting criss-cross on the bed, a book spread out in front of him as he rocked happily back and forth. He was finally getting to the good part of the story, the climax, and every once in a while he let out a contented hum when something particularly exciting happened. Eddie didn’t even know that Wayne was home until there was a light knock on his door.

“Eddie?” Wayne called, rapping his knuckles against the thin wood once more. “Can I come in?”

Eddie stared at the door, frozen. Wayne hadn’t come into his room since the day Eddie moved in.

A few moments passed, and Eddie heard Wayne curse under his breath. “Sorry, kid,” he said, though Eddie didn’t know what he was apologizing for, “knock once on the wall for yes and twice for no.”

Huh.

Eddie gingerly slid a bookmark into place and shut his book, sliding it over to the nightstand before raising a shaky hand to the wall and knocking once.

He waits a beat. Then: “I’m coming in.”

The door swings open quietly, Wayne stopping it before it can bang against the wall. Eddie tucks his hands under his legs to keep from stimming in front of his uncle, unsure of the reaction it would garner.

Eddie and his uncle have never really spoken, nor have they communicated beyond yes-or-no questions and some shaking of the head. The boy hopes and prays that Wayne isn’t coming with bad news, or planning on telling Eddie that he’s being too much for his uncle to handle. Eddie doesn’t know how much more of himself he can take away.

Wayne looks out of place in the small room, Eddie thinks. Maybe that’s just because he doesn't know how to function in a space that used to be his and is now occupied by a stranger.

“Can I sit?” Wayne asks, gesturing at the chair tucked up under the desk that Wayne had gotten from some random yard sale. Eddie nods, looking down at his lap. He hopes this is over soon.

His uncle sits, knees cracking as they bend. The chair groans under his weight.

“So, Eddie,” Wayne starts, looking supremely uncomfortable as he crosses his arms just to uncross them again and lean forward, then leaning back again and repeating the whole process. It would almost be funny to watch if Eddie weren’t so scared.

Eddie looks up once to let Wayne know that he’s listening, then looks right back down at his lap.

“Listen,” Wayne says, “I know things have been . . . rough for you, kid. Especially recently, with all this change. And that must be hard for you.”

Eddie really doesn’t know where this is going.

“And I’ve not been doing a great job as a . . . parental-type figure. A guardian, I guess, like they call it at the school. I never thought I’d need to take care of a kid, and I kind of have no idea what I’m doin’.” He pauses. “And I think this situation is harder, maybe, than others. Because I don’t really know how to communicate with you, what with you not talking and all. And that’s making it hard for me to feel like I’m doing a good job.”

Oh . So that’s where this is going. Tears well up in Eddie’s eyes and he snaps his head up to look at the ceiling, willing them away. He’s going to kick me out .

Wayne is still talking in the background but it just sounds like radio static to Eddie. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. The nonverbal-ness means no one will give him a job in this stupid town, besides the fact that he’s only thirteen years old and it’s not fucking legal for him to work without a permit, which Wayne probably won’t sign because why would he and—

Eddie’s panicking. Where the fuck is he gonna go?

He doesn’t realize that the radio static of Wayne’s voice has gone silent and been replaced by his own whining until the bed sinks down in front of him.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” Wayne asks, but Eddie can’t answer. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he could.

He whines again, hands coming up from where they were pinned beneath his thighs to tangle his fingers in his hair. Wayne should go. Eddie can just have this panic attack and then he’ll get his stuff together and get out. He hates it when people see him like this.

He doesn’t notice when Wayne leaves. Eddie has his eyes shut tight, back hunched over to make himself as small as he can. He feels untethered.

Breaths catch in his throat, hot tears spilling down his cheeks as he pulls at his hair harder, anything to distract from the hurt in his chest. Another person left him, and now he has to leave his home again.

The next thing he knows, paper is being shoved at him. He looks up and Wayne is crouching next to the bed, holding out a pen like an offering. 

“Can you write it down, Eddie?” he asks, gesturing at the paper in Eddie’s lap. It’s some torn piece of notebook paper, clearly ripped haphazardly from the spirals. Eddie can’t focus enough through the panic to be sure, but Wayne almost looks . . . empathetic? Like he actually gives a shit what Eddie writes down.

Eddie takes the pen with trembling fingers, wiping roughly at the tears still streaming from his eyes. With great effort, he manages to scratch out nowhere else to go .

Even just looking at the words sends a stabbing pain through his chest.

“What do you mean, ‘nowhere else to go’?” Wayne questions softly. Eddie presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, screwing his face up. 

“ Oh .”

Took him long enough. 

“Eddie,” Wayne says, almost like he’s begging. “Eddie, are you listening?”

Eddie nods, albeit reluctantly.

“Good. I need you to listen to me. I am not kicking you out, you hear? You’re staying here with me, as long as you need to.”

Wait. What?

He grabs the paper again, scratching out but it’s not fair to you, I don’t talk , before shutting his eyes.

“ Fuck talking,” Wayne near-growls. 

Eddie opens his eyes and looks over at Wayne, shocked. There’s a rustling as Wayne reaches into one of the pockets of his jeans, pulling out something that swishes and jingles. 

“I, uh, found these in a store, kind of by accident,” Wayne says, scratching the back of his head. “They’re communication cards. I thought maybe they’d help make your life a little easier, so you could tell me if you need something or if I'm doing something wrong. Maybe they’ll suck and you’ll hate them, I don’t know, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

Well, now Eddie’s gonna cry for a completely different reason.

He reaches tentatively out for the ring of cards, hands shaking so bad he almost drops it when Wayne hands it over. The cards all have illustrations on them along with a word or small sentence on the bottom. Some of the illustrations are pretty dumb, and Eddie has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. Wayne notices. 

“Yeah, the pictures aren’t great,” he says, chuckling. “We can make new cards if these work out for you, or add ones for other needs, but I figured this was a good place to start.”

Eddie nods vigorously, flipping through the cards until he finds what he wants.

Thank you , it says. He shows it to Wayne, who lights up like Eddie just told him he won the lottery.

“No need to thank me, Eddie,” he says. “I want this to work out for us. For you. And that can’t happen if you don’t have an easy way to tell me what you need.”

Tears slipped down Eddie’s face again. This conversation went the complete opposite direction that he thought it would, and thank god for that.

He reaches for the disregarded, tear-stained paper on his lap and scribbles something down on it.

Wayne looks surprised when he reads it, but he stands up anyways. “Sure, kid, I can give you a hug.”

His arms wrap Eddie up and pull him in, and the dam finally breaks.

No one had hugged him since his mom died, both because he hadn’t wanted to be touched and no one had cared enough to touch him anyways. But he’s always craved this sort of soft physical affection, and despite the general awkwardness and embarrassment that comes from asking for a hug from his guardian as a teenager, he couldn’t care less.

He gets to stay, and he’s safe here. Thank. Fucking. God.

Things don’t immediately fix themselves after Eddie and Wayne have that talk. There’s still a cloud hanging over Eddie’s head, telling him that he’s a burden to Wayne and he needs to hide all the parts of him that are begging to come out.

Wayne reminds him every day, though, that the trailer can be a safe space for Eddie. That he shouldn’t have to hide who he is in his own home.

So Eddie stops trying to make himself small, and instead starts trying to fill out his hollow body and make himself into a whole person.

He doesn’t keep his door closed all the time anymore, though he does like it closed when he’s feeling overwhelmed because it makes his room feel a lot more like a sanctuary. He takes his communication cards with him everywhere, even to school, because it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him and he’s trying to work up the courage to use them with people who aren’t Wayne.

He brings a piece of paper and a pen with him when he eats dinner with Wayne so they can have a sort of conversation, and he lets his uncle help him with the math homework that he so desperately despises. 

He slowly but surely starts to unmask, which is harder than he thought it would be. Eddie can’t shake the shame that comes with stimming around people, but the little grin on his uncle’s face when Eddie lets his guard down enough to flap his hands or jump up and down is enough to reassure him that he’s not doing anything wrong.

Wayne hugs Eddie every morning when he wakes up and every night before he goes to bed. Eddie sheepishly admitted that he likes to be hugged really tightly, and Uncle Wayne took the advice to heart and started squeezing the living daylights out of Eddie. He let up a little bit when Eddie started turning red.

It’s been the hardest for Eddie to start vocal stimming again. He knows that people find it annoying—they never hesitate to tell him that. And the last thing that Eddie wants to do is annoy his uncle when he’s already been so accommodating.

They start up a tradition of watching a movie together every Friday night when Wayne gets home from work. They sit next to each other on the raggedy couch and Wayne tries not to coo at how adorable Eddie is while he happily stims at the TV. 

It takes him a bit by surprise when they’re laid out on the couch one night watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show —which Wayne wasn’t sure was appropriate for a thirteen-year-old, but the guy at Family Video said it’d be fine—and Eddie lets out an almost-squeal, reaching out to grab onto Wayne’s arm and shake him, pointing excitedly to the screen and bouncing up and down. 

Eddie was so happy right then that he didn’t even notice what he did, but after that night he became more comfortable with vocal stimming around his uncle. He started to laugh more too, letting out the most adorable giggles when Wayne told a particularly bad “uncle” joke. 

Eddie started to feel like he really had a family, a parent . He started to feel like maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, here in this trailer after the horror of his life before.

Uncle Wayne throws Eddie a party for his fourteenth birthday, going as far as to get him a cake with a messy Happy 14th, Eddie scrawled in icing on the top. Eddie even got a hat and balloons, and Wayne let him play his favorite albums and stay up late to rewatch Rocky Horror , which quickly became tradition in their household. 

It’s after his fifteenth birthday bash that Eddie feels something inside of him click. He’s never felt more at peace or more loved in his lifetime, and he’s overflowing with it.

When Wayne hugs him that night as they both get ready for bed, Eddie decides. He squeezes his uncle tight and whispers, “Thank you.”

Wayne tenses up momentarily and quickly relaxes again, giving Eddie one last squeeze before stepping back. He holds Eddie by the shoulders, smiling, and brushes his hair away from his face. “You’re welcome, Eds. Get some sleep.”

And, wow. Eddie spoke for the first time in years. He’s glad that his uncle didn’t make a big deal out of it, just treated it like it was normal, because he didn’t want to draw too much attention to it. He just wanted to taste the words in his mouth, see if shaping them broke him or brought him back together.

He doesn’t really know that it did either, and he doesn’t feel like he’ll be talking again anytime soon. But Eddie is so glad that, regardless of if it’s in spoken words or not, he has Wayne there to talk to.

Eddie makes his first real friends in his junior year. He meets Gareth and Jeff, sophomores, when they notice him rolling around some D&D dice in his hands. They try to strike up a conversation with him about the game and Eddie fully expects them to run in the other direction once they realize he doesn’t speak, but they surprise him. They stay.

The three of them plan to play D&D together, and Eddie gets so excited about the possibility of other people caring about his special interest that he bolts back home after school as fast as he can, filled with words, bursting through the door to the trailer and almost crashing straight into Wayne as he does.

“Good day, Eddie?” Wayne asks, laughing fondly at the frenetic display. Eddie bounces up and down on the balls of his feet, shaking his arms out.

“I think I made two friends,” he almost yells, excitement buzzing inside him so aggressively he can hardly breathe, “and they wanna play D&D with me!”

Wayne lights up. “That’s amazing , Eddie!” he exclaims, and Eddie squeals his agreement. They celebrate that night with delivery pizza instead of the frozen stuff they had planned on having, and Eddie can hardly sleep with how excited he is.

Jeff is DM for their first campaign and it goes off without a hitch. It might be the most fun Eddie’s ever had in his life, second only to his sixteenth birthday party when Wayne let him teach him how to play D&D despite not understanding the appeal.

The trio makes plans to play together again, and Eddie hurries home to tell Wayne every detail and happy stim over how awesome it was to be able to exist in a space other than the trailer and not be expected to talk. 

After many, many D&D sessions, Eddie gets really close with Jeff and Gareth. They start to hang out outside of their campaigns, whether it’s by going to get food together or letting Eddie introduce the other two to what he calls “actual music”.

They come over to the trailer to do the latter, gathering on Eddie’s floor while he plays tape after tape and writes explanations as to why the music he’s playing is out of this world. Eddie was worried at first that the other boys were just hanging out with him to placate him, treating him like a charity case as many people liked to do, but the genuine interest they show in the things he has to say assures him that this is real.

He has real friends.

Wayne meets the boys the first day they come over to the trailer, and Eddie can tell that he’s trying to be nice despite how anxious he is that they’ll end up being rude to Eddie no matter how many times Eddie has assured Wayne—and himself—that that won’t happen. After an evening spent rocking out to Metallica and Iron Maiden, Wayne seems to have accepted that the boys have good intentions and Eddie is pleasantly tired, heading to bed early with the knowledge that he finally has everything he wanted.

Eddie hadn’t really thought about his sexuality much before. Sure, he knew that he had never been attracted to girls, but he almost figured that it was just an autism thing. And maybe his eyes lingered a little long on the movie posters with shirtless men plastered all over them, but he figured that was just because it was strange to see so much skin right in front of your face when you’re just trying to walk down the street.

But after he got closer with Gareth and Jeff, he was drawn more into the politics of the school. And he realized that maybe his sexuality was actually something he should think about.

Most of the boys at Hawkins High kind of sucked, if Eddie was being honest, and he doesn’t think that he could ever like anyone with a personality as shitty as theirs. And, continuing on the honesty train, his head has gotten stuck on a swivel staring at Steve “The Hair” Harrington before, but he tries not to put too much thought into that, because no. That’s not happening. Not even if it was an actual option.

Eddie does worry about his newfound questioning of his sexuality. He doesn’t know any queer people, and the concept of being queer is never spoken about around Hawkins unless it’s to say something bigoted. He knows it wouldn’t be good if people found out he was even thinking about liking boys, let alone ever acted on it. 

He also worries about his chances with romance. Most people avoid him because he’s autistic, and besides Wayne, Jeff, and Gareth, no one really seems to want to give him the time of day. So besides the obvious struggle of being a boy that potentially likes other boys, he’s also terrified that no one will ever love him because he’s not ‘normal’. 

Wayne would say that being normal is dumb, which is fair, but now that he’s started thinking about being in a relationship he can’t stop , and the whole not-being-normal thing is really throwing a wrench in his plans.

Gareth stays over for a sleepover one night, soon after Eddie’s seventeenth birthday. Jeff was supposed to come too but got caught up with work, so the two boys are left with just each other. And Eddie misses Jeff, sure, but he doesn’t mind getting to hang with just Gareth. He’s a great guy.

They share Eddie’s bed because the carpet in the trailer is kind of gross and Eddie doesn’t feel like it’d be a real sleepover if Gareth slept on the couch. Besides, Eddie’s bed is big enough for the both of them. 

Wayne comes in to give Eddie his goodnight hug (which Eddie had specified that he does want to continue happening, no matter how old he gets or if his friends are there to see it), and as he’s leaving the room he looks between the two boys, at the bed, and back at Eddie with an expression that is completely indecipherable to him.

Eddie just shrugs and makes his way over to flop onto the mattress, not noticing the blush on Gareth’s face.

When they finally settle down from their intense marathon of card games, the two boys shuffle up the bed to get comfortable under the blankets. Gareth talks for a little bit, Eddie giving a little nod or hum every once in a while to keep up his side of the conversation. He’s getting tired, and he’s starting to nod off when he notices how out of breath Gareth has gotten. 

A cursory glance tells Eddie that Gareth is in pain. Eddie jumps up, grabbing the notebook he keeps by his bed to talk to Wayne and furiously scribbling out what’s wrong?

Gareth shakes his head, but even that movement seems to hurt him. Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been good at comforting other people. He hunches over his notebook again, writing you can tell me .

He hopes his expression conveys how much he means that. Gareth looks over at him, expression pained, and seems to make a decision. He sits up, raising up the hem of his shirt just to the bottom of his ribs, revealing bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. Eddie gasps.

What happened? Are you hurt badly? he scribbles, resisting the urge to reach out and touch.

Gareth shakes his head. “Not hurt.”

Eddie tilts his head in confusion. Then what are the bandages for?

Letting his shirt drop back down, Gareth sighs. His hands are shaking. “I’m not . . . hurt. But I use these bandages to bind my chest because I’m transgender.”

Oh. That makes a lot more sense than concealing a fatal injury.

That’s cool , Eddie writes, surprising a shocked look out of Gareth.

“You know what that means?” he asks. Eddie nods. He’d read about it once when he was trying to discreetly research gay stuff.

He might as well tell Gareth that, to make him more comfortable. He writes it down.

Gareth hums in confusion. “Why were you researching gay stuff?”

Wow. Eddie has an idiot for a best friend. Because I’m gay, dumbass , he writes.

“ Oh! ” Gareth exclaims. “Oh, thank god . I was scared you were gonna, like, hate me when I told you. I don’t know any other queer people my age.”

Me either , Eddie scribbles, you’re the first .

Gareth laughs, then doubles over in pain. Right. The bandages.

How can I help? Eddie asks.

“Um, I usually, uh, take them off to sleep,” Gareth says, out of breath and awkward. “You’re not supposed to bind for more than eight hours, I think. But I don’t want you to . . . see.”

Eddie stims mindlessly for a minute, thinking. Could I give you a sweatshirt or something ? Eddie asks, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t want Gareth to hurt himself just because Eddie’s there. Or I can sleep on the couch .

Gareth looks at him, eyes shining. Eddie recognizes that look. It’s the same one he gave Wayne when he had that first conversation with him and gave him the communication cards.

“A sweatshirt would be nice, please,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

So Eddie gets him a sweatshirt, then he leaves the room to let Gareth change in peace and come down from what Eddie is sure must’ve been a very emotional conversation for him. He gets them both a glass of water, nearly dropping them on the way back.

And then they’re laughing together again, emotionally charged conversation behind them and a newfound connection forged between the two boys. They fall asleep listening to one of Eddie’s favorite records.

Their D&D party gains more members. Eddie is scared of that fact at first, as he was pretty happy with the groove they had been in before, but it turns out to be a good thing. They form Hellfire Club, with Eddie as the leader, and soon their campaigns get bigger and better and start taking up a lot more time.

Jeff draws out a design for club t-shirts and they get some made, just for the original three at first, because the art is so cool that they can’t resist. Eddie has a very excited conversation about it with Wayne, who argues that he should’ve gotten a shirt too since he often provides snacks for the club and, honestly, what is a club without snacks?

(Eddie hurries to have one made for him, jumping up and down when he sees how much Wayne loves it.)

Eventually some freshmen joined their group. Eddie vaguely knows of them. How could he not, when their best friend’s face had been plastered everywhere when he went missing, died, then came back to life. He tried not to pay too much attention to that whole situation. He has enough anxiety about his own life, he doesn’t need to feel it about other peoples’ lives too.

They’re surprisingly good at D&D, really helping the story along. Eddie especially likes Dustin Henderson, the little curly-haired kid with a tendency to be a little annoying but who always looks to Eddie as a leader despite having never heard his voice. Dustin’s affinity for Eddie makes his friends, Mike and Lucas, start looking up to him too, and soon he finds himself looking after a bunch of fourteen-year-olds and indulging in their erratic ideas.

He doesn’t really mind, though. He likes these kids, and it’s nice to know that they like him, too, even if it is only because he has a van to cart them around in and Jeff and Gareth threatened to kick them out of the club on the first day if they ever said anything rude to Eddie.

He gets roped into driving them to Steve Harrington’s house one day, of all places. Steve comes running out the door to meet Dustin, Robin Buckley in tow, and squints confusedly at Eddie. Eddie’s still not entirely sure how the kids know Harrington, nor does he know how Robin fits into all of this because he’s always been ninety-nine percent she was a lesbian and would never go for a guy, let alone one like Steve.

Eddie ignores the butterflies in his stomach when Steve grins and waves at him, waving back and offering a little smile before reversing out of the driveway to get away from whatever the fuck that just was.

He goes home to his uncle, sighing when he gets inside and flopping down on the couch. Wayne pauses whatever tape he was watching, turning his full attention to Eddie. “Rough day, bud?”

Eddie hums, shuddering. “Not really,” he mumbles, knowing he better speak quickly before the words leave him. “Just confused.”

“Confused about what?”

Eddie fiddles with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around until he can think of how to answer. He doesn’t think Uncle Wayne is homophobic. But he might be.

Aw, fuck it. Eddie needs to talk to someone .

“I like boys,” he spits out, much more harshly than he meant to. It gets harder to control his tone the more upset he gets. 

“Like . . . romantically?” Wayne asks.

Eddie nods, letting his long hair cover his face.

“ Okay ,” Wayne says, drawing it out. “Good for you. What made you decide to tell me now?”

Something in Eddie loosens, glad to have told someone besides Gareth and to be accepted so easily. 

He slumps back against the cushions, kicking his shoes off and bringing his knees up to his chest. “I dunno. Just feeling . . . feelings about it I guess.”

“And you don’t know what feelings?” Wayne’s tone isn’t condescending. He knows that Eddie has trouble deciphering his own feelings sometimes.

Eddie hesitates. “Not ashamed of it,” he whispers, “but I have a hard enough time with friendships. Dunno if I could handle a relationship.”

Wayne sighs, scooting closer to Eddie as if he can sense the panic coming on. He rests a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not ashamed of it. And I’m glad you told me. I think you’d handle a relationship just fine, I’d just be worried about how other people would treat you for it. For being with another boy.”

Eddie sucks in a breath. He doesn’t know why he made himself think about this, let alone talk about it. One smile from a pretty boy and suddenly he’s halfway to planning a wedding? 

“But,” Wayne starts, “I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it. I’ve told you before you can be who you are in this house, and anyone you’re ever with gets that invitation extended to them too.”

That’s . . . more comforting than Eddie thought it would be.

“And any boy would be lucky to have you, of course, but maybe I’m biased as your uncle.”

Eddie giggles. “Thanks.”

Wayne sits back, keeping his hand on Eddie’s shoulder to ground him as he can tell Eddie is still on that brink of being completely overwhelmed. “So, is there a boy in particular that brought this on?”

“What? No!” Eddie splutters. “No boy.”

Raising an eyebrow, Wayne asks, “Are you sure? There’s nothing going on with, say, Gareth that I need to know about?”

Eddie almost gags, because no . Gareth might be gay, but he’s basically Eddie’s brother at this point, and thinking about him romantically actually makes Eddie sick to his stomach. “ No . Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

Wayne squeezes his shoulder. ‘Watch your language, son,” he says, but he’s laughing. “Is it bad if I say I’m relieved? That boy eats half our kitchen every time he’s over here.” Eddie giggles at that. Gareth certainly does have an appetite.

They sit in silence for a while, Eddie flapping his hands a little.

“You know I love you, right?” Wayne asks solemnly. “No matter what? And you can always talk to me about anything, even boys.”

Eddie nods, humming in agreement. He’s out of words so he just signs thank you , using the basic ASL that he and his uncle had learned a little bit ago so Eddie didn’t have to always be holding his communication cards.

Wayne stands up, stretching. His back pops an ungodly amount of times. “I have to get ready for work. You gonna be alright on your own?” Eddie nods. He’ll probably just lie in bed and read the book he just bought, maybe listen to some music if his senses calm down a little.

His uncle gives him a hug before he goes to get ready, leaving Eddie alone for the night with his thoughts.

“ Eddie! ” screeches a familiar voice from across the student parking lot. How does Henderson always find him? Eddie raises an eyebrow and waits.

Dustin comes to a stop a few feet from Eddie, doubling over with his hands on his knees while he pants. Eddie doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk over here. His car is only like, thirty feet from the school doors.

Breath sufficiently caught, Dustin straightens up again. “You. Me. The crew . Steve’s house. Tonight . Be there or be a demogorgon.”

And, well. If that’s not the most confusing thing Eddie’s ever heard, he doesn’t know what is.

His blank stare must clue Dustin in to his confusion, because he explains himself. “Steve’s letting us all come over. Like, the kids you know, and also Max and Robin, and Nancy. Steve says he’s annoyed that we’re commandeering his house but actually he’s excited. He loves us.”

Eddie continues staring blankly, because that really didn’t answer his question of why he was invited. He’s not exactly known around Hawkins as the life of the party.

Dustin fidgets. “Um, you’re just looking at me like I missed something, but I really don’t know what I missed, so could you, like, write it down or something?”

Eddie sighs dramatically, fishing in his van for a pen and paper and scribbling out his question.

“Oh,” Dustin says. “I thought that was obvious. You’re basically one of our babysitters, like Steve and Robin and Nancy, and the Hellfire kids love you, and you would fit in really well with all of us. Everyone’s excited you’re coming because I- I might have already said you agreed.” He ends his sentence with a smile like that would distract Eddie from the obligations Dustin has taken it upon himself to sign Eddie up for.

Eddie has a lot of questions, like “why is Steve Harrington letting me into his house when he doesn’t know me?” and “how the fuck does this kid have so many friends?”, but in the end he just writes out, am I driving anybody there?

Dustin actually fistpumps, jumping up into the air and everything. “Thank god you agreed. And, yeah, could you pick up the Hellfire kids? I think Steve’s got everyone else.”

So that’s how Eddie ends up back in Harrington’s driveway, so nervous he feels as if he might actually throw up.

Wayne told him before he left that he could call if anything went wrong, and that he should take the van and leave if he’s uncomfortable, even if it means leaving the kids stranded. His uncle hugged him extra tight before he went out the door. Eddie could tell that he was worried, and he understood why. 

Eddie himself is terrified. A house full of people, most of them he has never interacted with, and it’s Steve Harrington’s house. Eddie has a sudden, horrible thought of bursting into flames as soon as crosses the threshold. That’s probably just a little bit irrational.

The kids have already rolled out of the car, heading full speed for the door. Only Dustin seems to notice that Eddie hasn’t moved.

“Hey, c’mon,” he says, standing beside Eddie’s open door. “Everyone’s really nice, and they all think you're, like, the coolest person ever. And, if it’s worrying you, they all already know you don’t talk. They aren’t expecting you to say anything. They just want you to be there.”

Eddie relaxes ever so slightly. He thinks Dustin was probably exaggerating about the cool thing, but otherwise his little monologue was sort of reassuring.

He gets out of the car on shaky legs, stopping only to make sure the doors are locked. The boys left the door to the house open on their way in, so Eddie and Dustin just walk right through.

It’s not as loud as Eddie thought it would be with this many people. They’re all mostly just standing around, watching Max roast the shit out of Mike. Deserved, honestly.

Their attention is diverted when Eddie and Dustin come in. Everyone perks up, smiling at them both in turn. 

“Hey, Eddie!” Robin says, excited as ever. “Glad you could make it.”

Everyone joins in, agreeing, causing Dustin to complain about no one being happy to see him. It’s sort of wild how Eddie feels relatively calm. He feels on edge and ready to bolt, sure, but being the center of attention in this group isn’t making him melt into a puddle of despair, so that’s good. 

He goes to lean against the doorframe to the kitchen, just separated from the main action and conversations, but he’s stopped by a hand lightly grazing his wrist. Steve.

“Hey, man,” he says, smile and eyes bright. Eddie misses his hand on his arm as soon as it’s gone. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re here. And that you can feel free to make yourself at home here. What’s mine is yours, and . . . also belongs to everyone else that’s here, really.”

Alright then. That’s nice. Eddie smiles and nods, hoping it conveys his thanks. Apparently it does, as Harrington smiles back and starts to walk away.

He turns back after a few steps, though, and . . . is he blushing?

“Also, I, uh, I like your jacket. You look really cool.”

Oh. Eddie might faint.

He’s tempted to run away into the woods just to get some alone time to jump up and down and scream “Steve Harrington likes my jacket” over and over again, but as that would be a little bit strange he just fights down his blush and nods again, feeling bashful. 

Despite being given the go-ahead to make himself at home, Eddie mostly just stays on the outskirts of the group for the rest of the night. He nods when acknowledged, which happens much more than he thought it would, and laughs sometimes at some of the dumb jokes the kids tell. 

Holding up the wall is getting tiring by the end of the party, though. Eddie is itching with the need to stim and feeling a little overwhelmed by how much is going on, but he also doesn’t want to leave. This group managed to make him feel included even when he barely interacted with him, and he’s worried it’ll never happen again.

He doesn’t have to worry for long, though. The party isn’t even over by the time they start planning another one, with calls of “this time next week?” permeating through the fog in Eddie’s head. Soon afterwards the kids start nodding off, tired out from school and a long night of social interaction.

Eddie’s just getting ready to wave his goodbyes when Steve comes over again. He hasn’t talked to Steve since the beginning of the night, though he did get cornered by Robin at one point who made fun of Steve for so long that Eddie felt like he had a new understanding of the guy.

“Hey, uh, you can stay over if you want. The kids are staying, obviously, since they’re already knocked out, and Robin and Nancy are too. We’ll probably make a big breakfast in the morning or something, and we’d love to have you join. I’ve got plenty of extra space.” He says the last part with his arms spread wide, joking, but there’s something about the way he says it that tugs at Eddie’s heart. 

He fishes for the paper and pen he shoved in his jacket pocket before he left home, wanting to be prepared to answer questions like this. Well, maybe not like this , because he never expected the King of Hawkins to be inviting him to a sleepover, but nevertheless.

He scribbles out a quick explanation as to why he can’t stay (he promised his uncle he’d be home by midnight, which is the truth), hoping his handwriting is legible before holding the paper out to Steve. He doesn’t tell the guy in front of him that he also just needs to go home and stim his brains out from masking so hard for so long, and he isn’t at all prepared for the intense change that comes from sleeping in someone else’s house.

Steve just smiles at Eddie. “That’s okay,” he says, and his smile lights up the darkening room. “But if you wanna stay over next week, that’s cool. I know the kids would love to have you here as long as possible.” He pauses. “And me. It was nice seeing you today. I know we’re basically strangers, but . . . I’ve always thought you were cool.”

That’s. Quite shocking. Eddie doesn’t really know how to process that information.

He stands there like a deer in headlights for a little longer before Steve takes pity on him and starts apologizing for keeping him so long. Eddie hurries to write out that’s ok, I think you’re cool too so as not to look like a total idiot. The grin he gets in return from Steve is worth the accidental ink stain on his jeans.

Steve walks him to the door. “Drive safe, okay?” he says, and wow, Eddie really needs to get out more if he melts when someone tells him to drive safely . Steve makes this aborted motion towards Eddie, stopping himself midway through and frowning. “Do you do hugs?”

Okay. That’s melt-worthy, even if it’s completely innocuous. 

Eddie nods vigorously. “Oh, good,” Steve says. “It would have been embarrassing if you said no.”

Eddie giggles at that, and he can tell that the sound surprises Steve. The boy steps towards him anyways and wraps his arms around him, squeezing tight. Of course Steve Harrington would know just how to hug Eddie. That’s just not fair.

He’s reluctant to pull away from the warm embrace, especially knowing he’s just going home to his cold bed afterward, but he does it. Eddie waves goodbye to Steve, smiling wide at the boy, and jogs to his car.

The trailer is dark when Eddie gets home, but he knows Wayne is awake. He knows Wayne won’t be able to sleep until he knows everything went okay for Eddie.

He knocks softly on his uncle’s open bedroom door, seeing him under a pile of blankets with a book on his lap. Probably one of the books that Eddie’s forcing him to read so he can rant about them and have it make sense.

“Eddie!” Wayne exclaims, pulling off his reading glasses. “You made it back in one piece!”

Eddie offers a sheepish smile, shuffling over to give his uncle a hug. “Before you ask, everything was great. They were all great. And I’m invited to sleep over next time.” He makes a motion like he’s locking his lips, his signal that he’s done talking for the day. 

Wayne beams at him. “That’s so great, Eddie. I’m really proud of you.”

Eddie points at the book questioningly, silently asking Wayne to talk about it. He sits on the edge of the bed and listens for a while, allowing his uncle’s voice to calm him down and help him transition from the somewhat-rowdy environment at Steve’s house to the quiet environment of the trailer. He relaxes as Wayne speaks, feeling himself decompress and finally start to lose that overwhelming feeling.

He flaps his hands a little as his uncle talks, allowing a soft feeling to wash over him. He feels content. Stressed, sure, and completely confused about everything that’s happened today. But that’s a problem for tomorrow Eddie to think about. Right now he just wants to rest.

He says goodnight to Wayne, getting his hug, and heads to his room to get ready for bed. A few minutes later he’s under the blankets, earplugs in as to avoid any further stimulation. He sort of hates that even good experiences rile him up so much to the point where he has to have help to calm down.

Eventually Wayne’s snores drift through the walls, heavy even through the earplugs, and Eddie lets the familiarity lull him to sleep alongside the fantasies swirling in his head that he knows will never come true. 

The next few days come and go, and Eddie doesn’t speak another word. The party on Thursday left him feeling wrung out, and he’s grateful for the three day weekend that came afterward so he could recharge.

He mostly spends his free time reading, since it’s a pretty sensory-safe experience. He tries to distract himself from thinking about friendships and relationships and how they could all fall apart if the other people decide he’s too difficult to be around.

Wayne lets him be for the most part, only luring him out of his room with the promise of food and a movie ( Rocky Horror , because despite its strange content it has become Eddie’s comfort movie). Eddie listens to his uncle talk about work and the strange things he sees the people of Hawkins doing every day, humming whenever Wayne says something that warrants response. 

It’s a peaceful weekend. It reminds Eddie of when he only had his own company to enjoy, and although he’s ecstatic that he has all of these friends now, he’s missed the quiet.

Monday rolls around quicker than he would like. School is completely and utterly draining, especially when his teachers insist on believing that he doesn’t talk just so he can get out of doing assignments. On top of that, he’s repeating his senior year, something that could’ve been avoided if anyone just took him seriously.

On top of it all, Jeff is out sick and Gareth is at the dentist, so Eddie has to sit by himself at lunch.

He could wait a few minutes until the D&D kids get to the cafeteria, but he doesn’t really want to stand around when he can already feel the overstimulation itching under his skin.

As it turns out, though, he doesn’t have to stand around.

“ Eddie ,” Dustin says, sliding onto the seat next to the aforementioned boy, “where’ve you been?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“We haven’t seen you since, like, Thursday,” Mike complains, already digging into his food before he’s even fully sitting down. 

Dustin and Lucas nod in agreement, like Wheeler just said something revolutionary rather than just pointing out a very obvious fact.

Eddie sighs, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and tearing out a page to write on. 

I was just at home. Why’s that a big deal?

Henderson rolls his eyes. “Eddie, my man. You just left us in the middle of the night at that party. You didn’t even get to taste Steve’s signature pancakes! You haven’t lived until you’ve had a bite of those chocolate-y delights.” 

Eddie hates that he’s starting to feel like he missed out by not staying over, despite how drained it would have left him if he had.

You guys are weirdly codependent , Eddie writes honestly, but calm the fuck down. Tell Harrington I’m staying next time.

The scream of excitement that Dustin lets out turns the entire cafeteria’s attention onto their table. 

A few fist-pumps and questionable wiggles later, Dustin settles down enough to speak. “Tell him yourself,” he says, just as Steve Harrington slides onto the seat on Eddie’s other side.

“Hey,” he says, grinning. “Tell me what?”

Eddie slides the paper over to Steve, letting him read for himself, deciding not to question why he’s here despite having already graduated. The boy smiles, making brief eye contact with Eddie before Eddie can look away. His eyes are bright and full of an emotion Eddie can’t decipher.

“Good,” Steve says softly, “We’ll be glad to have you.”

So, yeah. Eddie is definitely living in some alternate universe, because there’s no way that Steve actually gives a fuck about him, let alone would he ever be glad to be around him.

Later that week, Eddie is back at Steve’s house—alone this time since the kids rode with Nancy—and an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder. He’s only ever stayed over at someone’s house once before, and while it was fun at the time it left him feeling untethered and not right in his skin.

Wayne knows that, which is why he hugged Eddie extra tight before he left and told him that he could call if he needed anything at all. Eddie feels bad that he’s leaving him alone on a Friday, considering that they’ve never skipped a movie night before, but Wayne insisted that he was tired anyways and wouldn’t be able to stay awake through a movie if Eddie stayed home.

Eddie doesn’t know how he feels right now. On the one hand, he’s terrified of going in and embarrassing himself or finding out that he wasn’t really wanted there after all, especially since he has no idea where he’ll be sleeping that night or how badly his routine will be impacted. On the other hand, though, he’s unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of hanging out with these incredibly cool people all night long. 

He rings the doorbell and steps back, shaking his arms out while he waits.

The door swings open, revealing an exasperated-looking Steve who brightens when he sees Eddie. “Sorry it took so long,” he says, opening the door further and ushering Eddie inside, “these kids are gonna be the death of me.”

Eddie follows Steve inside, cringing at the boyish yelling coming from somewhere inside as they make their way up the stairs to the second floor.

“Everyone just sort of threw their shit in a pile,” Steve explains, gesturing at the mess of bags on the floor. “We haven’t figured out sleeping arrangements yet, so you can either leave your stuff here or have first pick of the rooms.”

As tempting as it is to pick first, Eddie doesn’t want to be a bother. He’ll take whatever he can get later, so for now he just throws his bag down with everyone else’s, thankful he had the foresight to keep his communication cards and a pencil and paper in his jacket pockets rather than shoved down in his backpack.

Steve trips his way back down the stairs with Eddie at his heels, trying to keep his laughter in at Harrington’s distinct display of inelegance. It comes out in bursts when Steve actually trips and falls on his face. 

“Are you laughing at me, Munson?” Steve groans, but his voice is light as he flops over on his back. Eddie giggles at the display, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

He offers Steve a hand before he can overthink it and tries to hide the shudder that runs through him when Steve takes it. His skin is warm, softer than Eddie would’ve thought.

Eddie uses a little more force than he means to when he pulls Steve up, yanking him hard enough that he comes tumbling into Eddie’s chest. Steve is so close that when he laughs airily Eddie feels his warm breath against his cheek. His own breath catches in his throat.

Steve, ever the charmer, just thanks Eddie with a wink before stepping back, though Eddie is sure there was something like disappointment in his eyes when he did so. Then again, he may be delusional from his sheer proximity to such a pretty boy. 

Steve trots away into the kitchen, where most of the other people are, Eddie following blindly behind him. The kids’ exclamations of “ Eddie! ” when he walks through the door take his mind off of the strange experience with Steve, and soon he’s sitting on a bar stool watching the kids bicker over which superhero is better while the older ones putter around, gathering up snacks to go with the pizza they apparently ordered.

It’s not until everyone goes and gets changed in preparation for the movie they’re going to watch that Eddie realizes what he’s gotten himself into. He has to stay here all night, surrounded by people, and he’ll have to mask the whole time or risk ruining everything.

So many things could go wrong. The texture of the food might set him off. The movie might play too loud for his senses to handle. The kids might be loud all night while he’s trying to sleep. The sheets on the bed might be too scratchy, or the comforter might not be heavy enough for him to relax. There might be a mirror facing the bed—

His chest aches with the air being kept in as he holds his breath. The kitchen had emptied out while he was stuck in his head, and the solitude allows him to let out the trapped air in a big whoosh . He doesn’t know what to do.

Eddie bends his neck down and starts shaking his fists, eyes tightly shut. His legs bounce against the bars on the stool. This can’t happen here , he thinks. Please, don’t let this happen here .

He doesn’t want to have a meltdown in an almost-stranger’s house. He doesn’t want to have a meltdown at all . He’ll ruin the whole night, he’ll embarrass himself, all over his stupid need to know everything that’s going on at all times.

A whine builds deep in his throat, fighting to come out. He bites his fist to keep it inside.

Footsteps echo down the stairs, coming closer with every second. Eddie tries to sit up, to compose himself, but meltdowns don’t exactly like to be set aside. Hot tears run down his face and Eddie ducks his head to hide behind his hair just as Robin comes into the kitchen.

“Eddie?” she asks, uncertain, and before he knows it Robin is rushing to his side. “Eddie, are you okay?”

Sometimes he wishes he could talk more so he could say something like obviously fucking not in these situations, but that’s just him being petty.

He shakes his head instead, biting down hard on his fingers until he’s afraid he’ll break skin.

“Eddie, can I touch you?” Robin asks softly, holding a hand out where Eddie can see it. And god, yeah, Eddie needs something to ground him, but he’s scared. He’s scared of what she’ll do. Of what anyone here would do.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you’re gonna hurt yourself, Eddie. Nod or shake your head if you can.”

Eddie nods, and Robin brings a careful hand to his wrist to pull his fist out of his mouth. He starts humming immediately without the buffer.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Robin says. Her voice is soothing. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter? There’s a sitting room that no one ever goes in.”

Another nod from Eddie sends Robin to her feet, tugging gently at Eddie’s wrist to lead him to the room. He just barely manages not to trip over his own feet.

His senses are too wired to take in the details of the sitting room, but at least he knows it’s quiet. Robin sits them both down on the rug between two couches. The sound is muffled down on the floor, which takes away at least one of the things that are making his skin crawl. 

“Can I touch your head?” Robin asks after a few moments of silence. Eddie nods.

She twines her fingers softly into the mess of hair on Eddie’s scalp, bringing his head down to her shoulder. He rests his forehead against the skin-warmed fabric there, shaking his arms hard.

Robin waits patiently. At some point she starts rocking back and forth and Eddie does the same, soothing the last of the raging storm inside of his body and mind.

He’s exhausted after all of that. Meltdowns and panic attacks take it all out of him, and now he’ll have to deal with the aftermath of Robin seeing it all happen and all of the other people in the house asking where they went.

His head jerks up from Robin’s shoulder and he turns away, looking down at his ring-clad fingers and twisting them together.

“Feeling a little better?” Robin asks. Eddie hums in response, needing to feel the vibrations in his throat.

The silence stretches for so long that Eddie almost thinks Robin is expecting him to start speaking.

“Eddie,” she begins, voice barely a whisper. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I . . . I get it.”

He looks up at her, searching her expression. What does she mean? He gestures for her to go on.

She shuffles around, picking at loose threads on her jeans and looking down at her lap. “I’m autistic, too,” she says, before quickly backtracking. “Actually, I shouldn’t say ‘too’, since you never actually said you were autistic, I just kind of assumed, and—”

Eddie stops her with a hand on her knee, which had begun bouncing at a rapid pace. He gives her a weak smile and a small nod and watches as the tension fades away from her form.

She grins at him. "So, yeah. I’m autistic too . And I know meltdowns like the back of my hand. So I’m sorry that happened to you, and I hope I didn’t make it worse.”

He shakes his head, fishing out the paper and pencil from his pocket and scratching out you helped .

She bounces a little and hits her fists against her thighs a few times, bringing a smile out of Eddie. He’s never known another autistic person before, and now he gets why his uncle gets so sappy when he stims. 

“Glad I could be of some service, Munson,” Robin chirrups. “Now: go back to the rest of the gang or go somewhere else?”

Eddie thinks about it for a moment. He does feel like he’s been put through a cycle on a near-broken-down dryer, but he doesn’t want to leave. He had been so excited—and, albeit, nervous—about tonight, and he doesn’t want to let this stupid meltdown ruin everything.

He knows that he’s still going to struggle tonight, though. He’s not just going to be able to return to baseline, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’s going to make it work.

Robin understands, because of course she does. She’s Robin. “You can stay in here for a while longer, if you want, and I can stay with you if that helps. I won’t mind. Or we can go watch the movie with everyone. Or, I guess, you could go home. I would totally support you if that’s what you need to do, but I do like having you around. Besides, I need another autistic person in this group. I’ve been carrying all the coolness and street cred until now.”

Eddie laughs at that. He knows what he wants to do, now.

Directing his attention back to his pencil, he writes wanna hang with everyone but it’ll be too loud .

Robin hums, frowning at the paper in a way that lets Eddie know she’s thinking. The way that he can see the lightbulb light up in her brain as she gets an idea is comical.

“I have earplugs in my bag,” she says, “And ear defenders, but I don’t know if you’d want them to be so obvious. But you could wear some and block out the noise, so you’ll still be with us but it won’t be as overwhelming. And I can kick Steve out of his seat so you don’t have to sit next to, I don’t know, Henderson or somebody who pays equally as little attention to their personal hygiene.” 

God, Eddie is so grateful for this angel sent from heaven. He takes her up on the ear defenders offer and they make their way upstairs to their bags so Eddie can change.

Belongings are strewn across the whole hallway, clearly thrown about haphazardly as the kids hurried to get dressed. Eddie grabs his bag, left untouched by the chaos, and looks to Robin so she can tell him where to go.

“Uh, that room is fine,” she says, pointing to a cracked-open door. “It’s one of the guest rooms, I think.”

Eddie slips into the room and braces himself for the monumental task that is changing clothes. 

Once he’s done he rejoins Robin in the hallway. She’s fiddling with the ear defenders as she leans against the wall.

She does a double take when she sees him. “Wow,” she chuckles. “It’s . . . jarring to see you in clothes that aren’t cool.”

Eddie flips her off half-heartedly, fighting the smile that threatens to spread across his face.

“I’m just saying, Munson,” Robin continues. “You look different, but, like, still nice. If I swung your way I’d be all over that.”

Eddie doesn’t even register her words until he hears the tell-tale sound of a hand slapping over a mouth, and he looks up to find Robin with terror in her eyes.

“Um,” she chuckles, but Eddie knows it's not because she thinks this is funny. He knows just how terrifying this slip-up must be for her, especially with a person she doesn’t know if she can trust. “I mean- I didn’t mean to say that. It just kind of slipped out. Like, I told Steve forever ago and some of the others know, and I got so used to you being here that I kind of forgot we hardly know each other, and—”

Eddie interrupts her by holding out a piece of paper. Chill , it reads. I’m gay.

Robin just about falls over. “No way!” she exclaims, seemingly forgetting her previous slip-up. “Oh my god, what are the chances? Both of us gay and both of us autistic? Eddie, we’re basically like the same person?” She’s jumping up and down by the time she’s finished speaking, and Eddie can’t help but bounce along with her.

It’s pretty cool , he admits, smiling so wide it hurts his face. He had no idea he’d have so much in common with any of these people. 

They stare at each other for a moment, both giddy with the knowledge of their newfound discovery. Robin sticks out a hand for Eddie to shake. “To being the coolest people here?” she asks, tone serious and eyes glinting. Eddie grabs her hand and shakes it firmly, humming his assent. 

“Ready to go, then?”

Eddie nods, taking the ear defenders from Robin’s outstretched hand.

“Oh, and by the way,” she says. “Everyone will be cool about you wearing those. They know how they help. I wear them all the time, they’re just used to it by now.”

That’s good , he thinks as he pulls the defenders over his ears. He didn’t even realize he was anxious about the others’ reactions.

Moments later the pair makes it to the living room. The gang is spread out across the couches and chairs, with a couple of the kids setting up camp in the middle of the floor amid a multitude of blankets and pillows. Pizza boxes sit on the coffee table, along with a bunch of other little snacks and drinks.

Robin directs Eddie over to an empty armchair which he gladly sits down on. It’s comfortable and the blanket thrown over the arm is softer than anything he has at home.

No one gives them a second glance as they settle in. Steve comes back into the room from wherever he was before, giving Eddie a thumbs up and a nod when he sees the ear defenders. Eddie tries not to blush, ducking his head behind his hair with a sheepish smile. 

Wow, he’s gotta get it together .

Soon enough the movie starts playing. Eddie has no idea what it is or what it’s about, nor does he really care. He just wanted to be here.

His mind wanders as he sits there. He still feels keyed up from the meltdown and the conversation with Robin, and everything is running through his head faster than he can keep up with.

He keeps coming back to what Robin said, about having told Steve that she was a lesbian. And clearly he was okay with it, as was everyone else, because otherwise she wouldn’t be here right now and she definitely wouldn’t be basically running the show.

So if Steve accepted Robin so easily, would he do the same for Eddie?

Probably not. Robin and Steve were already friends before, and Eddie really only just started interacting with Steve. And maybe it’s different when it’s a guy.

Eddie hopes not. He really, really hopes not.

Eddie is dozing off by the time the movie ends. The exhaustion had long-since settled into his bones, bringing him out of the present and into a dazed state of mind.

A hand on his shoulder brings him slowly to reality. A cursory glance around the room informs Eddie that most of the people have gone to bed, and the rest are headed there. He catches a glimpse of Nancy giving Robin a piggyback ride out of the room, the latter girl soundly asleep on her back.

Steve crouches next to the armchair, hand still on Eddie’s shoulder. He motions for Eddie to slip the ear defenders off for a moment.

He does, and the sudden return of the white noise that happens in a house is jarring. His senses fizz out for a second, and he shakes his hands under the blanket to get rid of the icky feeling.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice soft in the now-empty room. “You ready to go to bed?”

Eddie nods sleepily, shoving the blanket off of him and stretching. His back pops as he reaches for the ceiling, and as he stands up he catches Steve staring at him. He raises an eyebrow, not expecting Steve to blush and turn away.

“Come on,” he mumbles, “Let’s see if the little bastards left any rooms open.”

They trudge up the stairs together, ear defenders dangling from Eddie’s fingertips. Steve glances through the cracked doors of every room they pass, taking inventory of who’s sleeping where. They reach the end of the hallway and Steve stops.

He turns around, scratching the back of his head and looking down at his socked feet. “So, um,” he says, “all the guest rooms are taken.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. The feeling of being a part of the group quickly diminishes with Steve’s words. Of course he’s the odd man out. He’s making this whole night so difficult for Steve when it should’ve been fun. The apologetic look on Steve’s face tells Eddie everything he needs to know: either he sleeps alone downstairs or he goes home.

“You can, uh, you can share my room if you want. I don’t mind, and my bed’s really big. Or I can sleep on the couch.”

Oh. Maybe Eddie got a little ahead of himself there.

He tilts his head, asking a silent question of are you sure ?

Steve offers him a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be fun. A sleepover within a sleepover. None of my other friends are boys my age, so I’ve never really gotten that sleepover experience. Except with Robin, but she’s more like my sister at this point.”

Other friends? Wait, Steve considers Eddie to be his friend? Eddie has to stop himself from squealing in delight.

Eddie nods, grinning back at Steve and feeling like he might vibrate out of his skin. Steve turns back around and pushes the closest door open, and they tiptoe into his room.

It’s the complete opposite of Eddie’s room, really. The bed is centered on the wall, and there are hardly any posters or pictures beyond a few frames and polaroids scattered across the dresser. There’s no mess. It hardly looks lived in.

Steve is already across the room by the time Eddie takes it all in. He gestures at the bed. “Do you prefer a side?” he asks. “Or do you want me to take the floor?”

Eddie shakes his head, hoping Steve understands he’s saying no to both questions.

Apparently he does, because he pulls back the covers on the right side of the bed and climbs in. “Don’t be scared,” he jokes. “I don’t bite unless you ask me to.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fighting down the redness threatening to creep up to his face. Steve just never turns off the charm, does he?

He climbs under the blankets as quietly as he can, and the sudden intimate proximity to Steve sets his nerves on fire. He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, slipping them off again and again just to have something to do.

Steve seems calm as ever. “Are you tired enough to sleep, or do you wanna do something else?”

Eddie tries not to let his mind go to inappropriate places when considering what something else means. He mostly succeeds. Mostly.

He pulls the paper out of his pocket for hopefully the last time tonight, jotting down his answer. Tired, but I might not fall asleep for a while .

Steve hums. “Anything you wanna do?”

And, okay. There’s a lot of things Eddie wants to do, like ask Steve what his favorite song is and run his hands through that famous hair, but he does have a little bit of sense and definitely won’t do either of those things.

Got any stories to tell? he asks instead.

Apparently Steve was waiting for that question, because he launches into a spiel about Robin and Family Video and a frankly hilarious encounter that she had with a customer. Eddie lies back a few minutes in, sinking into the soft pillows with ease. He’s surrounded by the smell of Steve, like spearmint and flowers all wrapped into one.

Steve’s voice is nice like this. It’s nice all the time, really, but in the dark it’s a lot clearer and softer and he’s really good at telling stories even when they might otherwise be only a little entertaining. Eddie feels himself gravitating towards Steve, turning on his side to face him in the dark. 

The story ends and with it goes the last big parts of Eddie’s anxiety. It’s still thrumming under his skin along with the remnants of his meltdown, but he feels really relaxed here, with Steve. Go figure.

“Ready to sleep now?” Steve whispers, closer to Eddie than he had previously thought.

Eddie’s about to nod when he realizes what’s missing: a hug. He gets a hug goodnight from Wayne every. Single. Night. And he knows with complete certainty that he’s not going to be able to sleep without someone squeezing him back into a put-together guy.

“Eddie?”

Eddie huffs, rolling over to grab the paper he had set aside. He takes the time to remove his rings and set them on the nightstand since he hates having any jewelry on when he sleeps.

He avoids Steve’s eyes when he shows him what he’s written.

Can I have a hug?

It’s reminiscent of the time he wrote those same words and showed them to Wayne all those years ago, except that was his uncle and this is a boy that considers him his friend and that Eddie is very much attracted to.

Steve doesn’t ask any questions. He pushes himself up and opens his arms, allowing Eddie to fall into them. His arms are bare against Eddie’s sweatshirt, the warmth permeating through the fabric as Steve squeezes Eddie tight. Eddie breathes in the scent of Steve, nose tucked against his collarbone and brushing against skin where the collar of his t-shirt had fallen down.

Eddie’s eyes begin to droop and he pulls away reluctantly, refusing to go as far as to fall asleep on Steve. 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve says quietly, smiling at Eddie before lying down. Eddie smiles back and turns over, facing the other direction so Steve doesn’t see him happy stim before falling asleep.

Morning comes in beams of orange sunlight.

They streak across the room, illuminating the comfortable space with their bright lines. Eddie wakes up slowly, feeling warm and content. The bed is so much more comfortable than his own at home, and it’s warmer, too. 

He burrows down further under the comforter, adjusting his head on his pillow. Which . . . is definitely moving. And is definitely not a pillow. 

It’s very much Steve Harrington’s chest.

Okay. Eddie’s awake now.

He freezes where he is, trying to figure out how to go about the situation. Their arms are around each other and Steve’s grip is tight, pulling him firmly into his chest so that Eddie can’t move. Eddie has no fucking idea how they got here. He’s never cuddled with anyone before, and despite his fantasies he didn’t expect his cuddling-virginity to be broken by Steve-fucking-Harrington .

Steve’s breaths are even and slow, which probably means that he’s asleep. It’s early, too, and Steve’s probably really tired from last night. Eddie’s tired too. He could just . . . go back to sleep. Pretend he never woke up and noticed their predicament.

It’s not exactly hard to make that decision.

He huffs and snuggles closer to Steve, burying his face in his chest. He closes his eyes, ready to go right back to dreaming.

That is, until Steve giggles.

Eddie launches himself back, startled. He was awake this whole time?

Steve is laughing hard now, clutching his chest and rolling onto his side. Eddie can’t move. Steve still has a grip on his waist, and his hand is clenching and unclenching as his body shakes. Eddie’s torn between laughing with him and hyperventilating.

“Sorry,” Steve pants out, “It’s not funny. I just- I never expected to end up cuddling with Eddie Munson , and I kind of panicked when you woke up. Also, did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open. First of all, how is he supposed to take that first part? Is it positive or negative? And second of all, what?

He scrambles for his paper and writes, you’re fucking with me right? Because there’s no way. Someone would have told him by now, surely.

Steve devolves into more giggles, shaking his head. “Not fucking with you, man. You totally talk in your sleep.”

Eddie doesn’t know how to feel about this.

He’s pretty sure Steve isn’t fucking with him. He probably wouldn’t do that. But now Steve’s heard his voice, has heard him speak . And Eddie doesn’t even know what he said. That sort of terrifies him, makes him never want to open his mouth again.

What did I say? he writes, trying hard to keep his hands steady against the panic.

Steve sobers up a little, noticing Eddie’s demeanor. He starts rubbing slow circles on Eddie’s hip with his thumb. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just general sleep gibberish, and something about your uncle and what might’ve been Rocky Horror .”

It’s Eddie’s turn to giggle now. Of course that’s what he’d talk about in his sleep.

Steve grins up at him, hand still firmly planted on Eddie’s waist. “I don’t know if this’ll, like, be weird for me to say or make you uncomfortable or anything,” he says, which isn’t promising, “but for the record, I liked your voice. I feel bad that I heard you talk when you didn’t mean for me to, but you sound pretty. You’re pretty.” He cringes after he says the last part like he didn’t actually intend to say it out loud.

Oh. Oh god.

Eddie’s definitely not weirded out by that, but he is wondering if he’s actually awake or if this is just some elaborate dream that he’s having in his own bed at home. He pinches himself to find out. Nope. This is happening.

He hunches over to write in an effort to hide his blush. Two can play at this game.

Bet you say that to all the girls , Eddie writes, hoping the joke translates from the paper.

Steve smirks. “I think you mean girls and boys, but no. Just you.”

Okay. What the fucking fuck is going on. Eddie’s little gay autistic brain can’t handle much more of this.

You like boys? he scribbles, because fuck hesitation. He wants to know if that was a joke or not.

Steve tenses. “Um, yeah. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

He starts to draw his hand away from Eddie’s waist, but Eddie catches it. He holds it with his left while he writes with his right. 

I do too. Not uncomfortable.

Eddie drops his pencil and squeezes Steve’s hand between both of his own, looking into Steve’s eyes for a brief moment. His pupils are dilated and his eyebrows are raised, like he didn’t expect Eddie to say that.

“Huh,” is all he says.

“ Huh ,” Eddie mocks, out loud, because echolalia is a thing he does sometimes and “huh” is more of a sound than a word anyways.

Steve sits up faster than the speed of light, raising an eyebrow high. Eddie laughs at the serious case of bedhead he’s got going on.

“Are you mocking me, you little shit?” Steve taunts, jabbing his fingers lightly into Eddie’s side. Eddie giggles and dodges. “It’s rude to mock people, y’know. But I might make an exception for you since you’re so cute.”

Eddie’s face heats up so much that he feels like ice is necessary to cool him back down.

Now that their sexualities are out in the open, it seems like Steve isn’t gonna hold back on the flirting. This is dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

Eddie flops back down onto the pillows, thinking he’s safe from Steve’s attack. But Steve follows him down, digging his fingers into Eddie’s waist and fucking tickling him , for God’s sake. Eddie shrieks, jolting to the side and trying desperately to hold in his laughter. 

His sensory issues have apparently made him ticklish beyond all hell, and soon enough he’s out of breath from laughing so hard and he’s huffing out a quiet “ stop ”.

Steve stops immediately, looking at Eddie with concern evident on his face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Oh god, Eddie, I’m so sorry—”

Eddie cuts him off by giggling, rolling over onto his side. He shakes his head. Steve sighs, clearly relieved he hadn’t, like, scarred Eddie for life or something.

“You scared me, you idiot. I wasn’t expecting you to say anything, I was too focused on your laugh.”

Don’t get too used to it , Eddie writes. I don’t talk very much, if you hadn’t noticed.

He feels weird about having said even one word to Steve. He’d said very few words to Gareth and Jeff since knowing them, and it took him years to even talk to Wayne. Steve shouldn’t be able to just . . . tickle his nonverbal-ness away. 

It was just one word, though. And he trusts Steve for whatever reason.

“I know,” Steve says softly. “And I don’t expect you to talk to me, by the way. Just because I heard you talk in your sleep doesn’t mean I expect you to want or be able to speak to me.” He pauses, seemingly unsure of himself. “But, also, we’ve cuddled now, so I think that makes us best friends. I can tell you all of my deepest, darkest secrets now and you can write down things to insult me.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh. Okay , he writes. Guess we’re besties now.

“Yes!” Steve exclaims, smiling big. He shuffles closer to Eddie. “Bestie hug to seal the deal?”

Eddie rolls his eyes but nods, allowing Steve to pull him into his arms again. This is great, actually. He was in need of a good-morning hug anyway. 

He’s almost asleep again when someone bangs on the door.

“ Steve! ” Henderson yells. He has absolutely no common sense, apparently. “Come make us pancakes! We’re hungry!”

Steve groans, tucking his face into Eddie’s hair. “Go kick him for me. Please.”

Eddie shakes his head and pushes at Steve’s chest so he can write again. 

You heard the man. Go make us breakfast.

“Et tu, Eddie? That’s just cruel,” Steve gasps, clutching a hand to his heart. Eddie kicks him lightly in the shin.

Sighing, Steve rolls out of bed. His shirt rides up his stomach, revealing a soft-looking strip of skin that Eddie itches to reach out and touch. Steve groans and turns around, smirking down at Eddie.

“Come on, Eddie. Gotta get up if you wanna eat.”

So Eddie gets up. Not because Steve told him to, mind you. He’s just hungry.

Eddie takes a detour to the bathroom on the way downstairs, and when he finally makes his way down the steps he’s greeted with half of the group already waiting at the table.

“Morning, Eddie!” Robin says cheerily, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “How’s my best friend doing this morning?”

Steve whips around from where he had taken up station in front of the stove, an offended look on his face. “Wait. I thought I was your best friend. And you don’t get to be Eddie’s bestie, I already claimed him.”

Robin bursts out into laughter. “ Claimed him?” she cackles. “What, like you branded him or something? Nah, Stevie, he’s my friend first. You can be both of our besties, though, since me and Eddie are basically the same person.”

Steve narrows his eyes, looking back and forth between the two of them until he finds whatever he was looking for. Then he turns back to the stove and continues doing whatever he was doing.

Alright then.

Robin steers Eddie over to a corner. “You doing alright?” she asks quietly. Eddie nods, offering a smile that she returns.

“Good,” she says. “I’m glad you stayed over.”

They make their way to the table and take a seat. Eddie watches Dustin and Lucas argue over something that has to do with a girl named . . . Eleven? They seem to be having a disagreement over what she can do with her superpowers. Must be some story they’re making up.

Steve serves up the pancakes, placing plates in front of the kids first. The sounds they make while eating are absolutely repulsive, and Eddie fights the urge to cover his ears. Robin doesn’t fight the urge. She gives them her most evil stare and places her hands right over her ears, completely unapologetic. Props to her.

When Eddie finally takes a bite of Steve’s famous pancakes he almost dies on the spot. These are good . Way better than any of the pancakes Eddie and his uncle have made over the years. How does he do it? They taste like literal heaven.

“Good?” Steve asks when Eddie brings his plate over to the sink. Eddie nods, giving a half-smile. Steve absolutely beams .

A few hours later most of the kids have been picked up by their parents, and the stragglers are loading up into Steve’s car to be chauffeured home. 

Eddie climbs into the driver’s seat of his van, feeling pleasantly exhausted and ready for a nice relaxing, quiet day with his uncle.

He’s just about to start the car and make his way to the trailer when Steve comes bursting out of the house, rushing over to Eddie’s van. Eddie opens his door, leaning out to meet the out-of-breath boy. 

“I was trying to catch you before you left,” Steve pants, “but you’re so fast.” He straightens up and opens his arms. “It feels weird not hugging my new best friend goodbye.”

Eddie chuckles under his breath, standing up and wrapping his arms around Steve. The hug is short and sweet, but it soothes the errant part of him that was telling him that he would be forgotten as soon as he left.

“See you at school?” Steve asks after they’ve pulled back. Eddie nods as he slides back into the van. Steve squeezes his shoulder before running back inside to help the remaining kids, and Eddie waits until the door is shut before he turns the key in the ignition and drives home.

“Eddie? That you?” Wayne calls as Eddie steps through the door, shutting it extra hard to announce his presence. He had warned his uncle that he might be out of words after a night of socialization, and he was right to take that precaution. That part of him that housed his ability to speak has dried up, and he doesn’t see any rain forthcoming to replenish it.

He’s alright with that, though. He had a great night with his newfound friends, and talking is overrated anyways.

Wayne comes shuffling around the corner to meet Eddie, immediately wrapping him up in a hug. Eddie melts into it. Hugging his uncle makes him feel so safe, so protected. It reminds him that he has someone that’s there for him.

A few moments later Wayne draws back, holding Eddie at arm’s length. “Everything go alright, son?”

Eddie nods. He leads them over to the couch, pulling out his paper to write it was amazing .

“That’s good to hear. Nobody gave you any trouble for anything? And you slept alright?”

Eddie blushes as he thinks about how he’d gotten the best night’s sleep he’d ever had, and it had happened while he was wrapped up in Steve’s arms. Slept well. Everyone was really nice.

He pauses for a second, debating whether or not he should tell his uncle about the meltdown he had. Eddie decides it’s probably for the better.

Wayne sucks in a breath when he reads the words, tension flooding his body. “Eddie, you should’ve called. I would’ve come and gotten you, even if you couldn’t say anything to explain.”

Eddie shrugs. There was a girl, Robin, he writes. She’s autistic too. She helped me.

The tension leaves his uncle’s shoulders just as quickly as it came. “I’m glad you’re making all these friends,” he says quietly. “It’s good for you to have people who understand you. And thank that Robin girl for me next time you see her. She did a good thing.”

She’s pretty cool , Eddie scribbles. There’s one other thing.

His uncle raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to write more.

I spoke to one of the people there. Just a word.

Wayne’s eyes widen. He knows how big of a deal that is, despite Eddie’s nonchalance about the subject. “Did they make you speak, son? I’ll fucking kill them if they did.”

No, Eddie hurriedly writes, No one made me do anything. He taps his pencil against the paper as he thinks of what to say next. I was sharing a bed with the guy, Steve. All the other rooms were taken, and he offered to sleep on the floor but I felt bad doing that to him in his own house. He told me in the morning that I talk in my sleep (why didn’t you tell me that??), and a few minutes later I felt like I had a word in me to say, so I did.

Eddie’s uncle is silent for a long moment, staring at the words on the page. A few moments later he sighs. “Alright, I have to admit I’m proud of you. That’s kind of a big deal, but I won’t treat it like one if you don’t want me to.” He eyes Eddie, shifting in his seat. “But we are gonna have to talk about you sharing beds with boys.”

Eddie’s chest tightens, his face growing red. It wasn’t like that . His breath quickens. He enjoyed sharing that bed with Steve, even if it didn’t mean anything. It was comforting to him, and if he refuses to share again next time it’ll make things awkward, won’t it? And then he’ll end up kicked out of the group that he’s only just been accepted into.

“Relax, Eddie,” Wayne laughs, setting a firm hand on the back of Eddie’s neck to calm his anxiety. “I was just joking; I’m not mad at you or nothin’. I know you were just hanging out with that Steve boy, and he sounds like a good friend. But there are things you need to know if it does start being ‘like that’–”

Eddie cuts him off with a disgusted noise. He does not want to have that conversation right now. Or ever, thank you very much. Wayne just keeps laughing.

“Okay, okay, I won’t go there right now. But like I’ve told you before, you can talk to me about boys and anything that you’re confused about. I might not be the best person to ask, but I’ll do everything to help you figure it out, no matter who you end up liking.”

Silence stretches as Eddie looks down at his lap, blushing. He really isn’t comfortable thinking about doing . . . that stuff with Steve, or anyone for that matter, but his brain is latching onto the idea and running with it. He does his best to push it all away.

“Is there . . . “ Wayne begins, trailing off. “ Is there a boy, already?”

Okay. Now Eddie’s trapped. He can’t do anything but nod, avoiding looking at Wayne.

“Oh, son,” his uncle says, wrapping Eddie up in a hug. “That’s okay. Do I know him?”

Eddie shakes his head against Wayne’s chest. No, not technically , he writes when he sits back.

“Not technically?”

He bites his lip, thinking about if he really wants to disclose this. Haven’t met him, but I’ve mentioned him.

Eddie watches as his uncle mulls over the options in his head, eliminating them one by one. He knows exactly when it clicks, because his uncle looks over him with a pitying expression.

“The Harrington kid?”

Eddie nods, torn between the embarrassment of this conversation and the excitement of talking about this boy that he’s only recently found out is so goddamn perfect.

Wayne taps his chin in thought. “Think there’s any chance he’s like you?”

And, well. Eddie doesn’t want to out Steve, not to anyone, but what Wayne doesn’t know is fact won’t hurt him. He nods. 

“You gonna go for it?”

Eddie is furiously shaking his head before he even thinks about it. He likes Steve, sure, but there’s a lot of reasons that he definitely can’t “go for it”. He hardly knows Steve, for one, despite sleeping in his bed for a night. He’s also never been in a relationship before, or even kissed anybody, while Steve literally has a reputation for being proficient in both of those areas.

A part of him is also telling him that he’ll never be good enough for anyone like Steve. He doesn’t even speak, most of the time. He doesn’t know if he’d ever feel comfortable speaking somewhat freely with anyone but Wayne.

It’s too risky for him to give himself to someone like that, knowing that they could turn around and leave him empty and absolutely devastated.

So, no. He’s not going to go for it, but if for some reason Steve decided to ask him out . . . Eddie might be willing to reconsider. 

The group starts hanging out more often after that night. Eddie feels as if he’s broken the seal keeping him from forming relationships with this ragtag bunch of teenagers and wannabe-adults, and now he’s starting to sink into these people like he’s known them forever.

It’s not easy, really. He still gets anxious before seeing any of them and overthinks everything he does in their presence. He doesn’t speak to them, of course, and every day he has to remind himself that they don’t like him any less for that. 

Occasionally when the entire group is together, managing to gather despite the kids’ crazy schedules, Robin and Eddie will find a quiet-ish corner to sit in together and write back and forth on a piece of paper, giggling at little jokes the other tells or at some stupid drawing.

It’s things like that that make Eddie feel welcomed, that break the seal that had kept him barred from these friendships for a while. 

He gets really close to Robin and Steve; or, at least, way closer than he ever imagined being to them. He and Robin bond over being autistic and how ridiculous neurotypicals can be. Robin whispers to him about the girls she thinks are pretty and he’s filled to the brim with warmth and affection for her; this girl who, like himself, was dealt a difficult set of cards but persevered and found her place in the deck anyhow. 

His relationship with Steve is . . . different. They don’t giggle over crushes together or anything, but Steve hugs him. A lot. Eddie is beginning to suspect that Steve is severely touch-starved, especially considering how often Eddie walks into the house to find him sprawled across Robin on the couch, fast asleep.

Eddie usually isn’t the biggest fan of touch, which is why it comes as such a surprise to him when he begins to crave it from Steve. Memories of Steve hugging him at the door when he shows up to a group hangout after an emotionally exhausting day make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And they talk, too. Steve speaks to Eddie and waits patiently for Eddie to scribble out a response. He accepts a nod as an equal contribution to the conversation, a small mercy that many people haven’t afforded Eddie in the past.

He tries not to think about it too much, tries to remind himself that these people are really only showing him basic human decency and they only stand out so much because Hawkins isn’t a very decent place.

It doesn’t feel like that, though.

It doesn’t feel like that when Steve gives up his favorite chair in the living room again during a movie night when Eddie is particularly on edge. It doesn’t feel like that when he and Robin are in a room alone together and he forgets to mask, only to look up and find Robin copying his stims. 

It feels like more than basic human decency when Steve discovers that Eddie hates the texture of cooked vegetables and starts cooking other options for him on the nights that they all have dinner together. It feels like more than basic human decency when the group lets Eddie pick the movie and, when he chooses Rocky Horror because it's his favorite, smile at him when he can’t hold in his stimming.

This little unlikely group is beginning to feel a little bit like family to him. Sleepovers in Steve’s room lead to nights full of laughter and jokes made at the expense of Steve’s music taste, and “family game nights” give all of them plenty of ammunition to make fun of the others at any given time.

Eddie feels more full of love for these people than he knows what to do with, even when they’re being a little annoying. Like Robin is, right now.

“Come on , Eddie,” she groans, flopping onto her back on the area rug. “I see those doe eyes you make at him. You definitely have a thing for Steve.”

Eddie makes a noise of disagreement, shifting on the couch to hide his face in his knees.

“Don’t make that noise at me, dingus. You’re only making that noise because you know it’s true.”

He picks his head up to give her his best death glare. She cocks an eyebrow, challenging, and rolls over onto her stomach. “Eddie, you look at him like he hung the fucking moon. And I know he’s Steve Harrington, and he can kind of leave people starstruck, but I think you’ve been friends with him for long enough for it to have gone from starstruck to, well, a massive fucking crush.”

Well. She’s got him there. 

He sighs heavily, uncoiling his body and reaching over to grab his journal off of the coffee table. He flips to a blank page, tapping his pen against his lips as he tries to figure out what to write.

Definitely not starstruck , is what he settles on, unwilling to give up more than that right off the bat. 

Robin’s responding smile is way too wide for Eddie’s liking. “So you do have a crush on Steve!” she exclaims, pushing herself up to her knees and bouncing in place. Eddie, covering his face with his hands, nods. 

“C’mon, Eddie, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says, trying to coax him out from behind his hands. “I’ve told you about my crush on Nance, and we don’t even know if she likes girls. That’s a lot more embarrassing than liking a guy that would do literally anything you asked him to.”

Eddie frowns, emerging from his palms and grabbing his pen again. You liking Nancy isn’t embarrassing , he writes, you can’t help who you like, and I think she might like you too .

Robin blushes. “Thanks, Eds, but you know that’s not the point of what I was saying.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Was kind of trying to change the subject .

“Not happening, dingus,” Robin says definitively. “Not getting away from talking about how badly you and Steve wanna suck each other’s faces off.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush—and grimace. Don’t be so vulgar. And we both know Steve doesn’t want to do that with me. We’re just friends.

“We don’t know that,” Robin says, voice alluding to something that Eddie can’t quite grasp. “We don’t really know anything, not unless you talk to Steve. But I am Steve’s best friend, his platonic soulmate, and I definitely think he has feelings for you.”

Eddie’s stomach turns over. He doesn’t even really want to entertain the idea that Steve likes him back, not when the inevitable letdown of that being false could destroy Eddie.

He knows that Steve has never been with a guy before, but he’s been with a lot of girls. He’s experienced there. And he’s admitted to Eddie and Robin that he’s been wanting to try to explore the other side of his bisexuality recently, to find a guy he likes and see how it goes from there. 

But Eddie knows that guy won’t be him. It’ll be someone easy, with no baggage attached, who can teach Steve everything he needs to know and guide him through this new step in his life. Someone who has experience, romantically and otherwise, and that Steve can have a good time with. Eddie is just going to have to get over it and prepare himself to see Steve with another man at some point; a man that’s much more attractive and interesting than he himself is. 

“Hey,” Robin says softly, reaching a hand up to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “I can see you spiraling. Tell me what’s up?”

He writes out the truth, about how he doesn’t feel like he has a chance with Steve for more reasons than he can count. His brain chants to him, over and over again, that he’s not good enough not good enough not good enough , and he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and hit his fists against his legs.

“Eddie, please, don’t hurt yourself,” Robin pleads, “I didn’t mean to upset you, okay? But I love you, and I love Steve, and I want you both to be happy. Together or not, that’s all I want for you guys.” She pauses. “We don’t have to talk about it, though, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not your fault , he manages to write out, just my head .

“I know what that’s like,” Robin laughs, the tension dissipating from the room.

“Know what what’s like?”

Of course Steve has to come into the room right now. Despite being in Steve’s house, Eddie had kind of forgotten that anyone other than himself and Robin were there.

Robin’s eyes widen slightly. “None of your business, dingus.”

Eddie avoids looking at Steve, but he can’t avoid it for long as Steve starts to make his way over to them. He catches Robin making some sort of hand gesture at the other boy before getting up and leaving, and he has to resist the urge to yell at her for leaving him here with the topic of the conversation that had gotten him so upset.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room, and suddenly Eddie is all too aware of Steve’s presence next to him on the couch.

“You okay, Eds?” Steve asks, shifting closer. “You seem upset.”

In a moment of panic, Eddie’s eyes dart around the room to make sure his journal wasn't still open to the conversation that would’ve exposed him to Steve in ways Eddie couldn’t come back from. He finds it closed, sitting on the floor a few feet away. Robin must’ve put it there while his eyes were closed.

Too emotionally wrung out to write any more, Eddie makes use of the little ASL that he knows and signs fine , opening his fingers and bringing his thumb to his chest.

He can do that with Steve, because of course Steve would want to do anything he can to help Eddie, even if it means starting to learn an entire new language just so that Eddie can comfortably communicate. Eddie’s heart beats faster at the thought, but he’s too tired to delve into that right now.

“You sure?” Steve persists. Eddie sighs, shrugging his shoulders. 

He’s upset, yeah. But if he ignores the part of his brain telling him to withdraw and go wallow by himself, he’s also really glad that he’s here. With Robin. With Steve. Two of the only people that truly understand him, aside from Gareth and Jeff and Wayne. 

He finds himself subconsciously leaning closer to Steve, being pulled slowly into his orbit. Steve only reacts by throwing an arm over Eddie’s shoulders, something that he’s been given blanket permission to do unless told otherwise.

Eddie melts into the touch. Sometimes, when he gets really keyed up, he doesn’t realize how much he needs something to ground him until it does.

Before he knows it his head is resting on Steve’s shoulder, clasping his own hands in his lap to keep himself from doing something stupid like trying to intertwine his fingers with Steve’s. Steve would let him, he thinks, but that doesn’t mean he should do it.

Moments pass in silence. It’s quiet enough that Eddie can hear Steve’s heart beating, slow and steady. His own is still beating quickly, anxiety ebbing away from his head but clinging to his body.

Eddie’s own hair brushes against the skin of his neck, tickling him in the worst possible way. He cringes, jolting before he can stop himself.

“What’s up?” Steve asks, suddenly on high alert as if he suspects something horrible had happened. Eddie grabs onto a strand of his own  hair, lifting it up and hoping that Steve gets the message. “Oh,” he says. “Want me to tie it up for you?”

Oh. That’s certainly a thought.

He’s nodding before he can even think it through, almost regretting his decision when Steve pulls away. He whines accidentally at the loss. Steve chuckles at him good-naturedly.

“Have to pull away to put it up, Eds.”

Eddie puffs out his bottom lip to look like he’s pouting, which draws a smile from Steve. He produces a hair tie out of nowhere and gestures for Eddie to turn around.

Steve’s hands feel magical in Eddie’s hair. He’s gentle and confident in his movements as he gathers up Eddie’s curls and pulls them away from his neck, removing the sensory stimulation that had been bothering Eddie so much. He doesn’t wrap the band around his hair too tightly, just enough to keep it up. When Eddie reaches up to feel it he discovers that Steve had only pulled the hair halfway through on the last wraparound, so that the long strands will stay far away from Eddie’s skin.

Turning back around, Eddie signs thank you .

“No need to thank me,” Steve laughs. “I should be thanking you . You look really pretty like this.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open. Full fish mode. He could swear that his brain literally shuts off for a minute. Did Steve really just call him pretty? Again?

Wait. Is this flirting?

Steve fucking giggles , reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind Eddie’s ear. “You look pretty all the time, though, so I guess I should always be thanking you.”

Oh. My. God. This is flirting! Again!

And, well. Eddie does not know how to respond to that. His jaw is still gaping open, and of course Steve notices and fucking reaches out his hand to lightly grasp Eddie’s chin and close it. The touch is fleeting and gentle, but Eddie feels it all the way to his toes.

“Come here,” Steve finally says, putting Eddie out of his gay misery. “I think I broke you.”

Eddie swats at Steve’s arm even as he lets himself be pulled back into the man’s embrace, scooting as close to him as he can.

And then Steve really breaks Eddie by leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to his temple. 

Eddie whines, hoping it shows both his contempt for Steve torturing him like this and his enjoyment of the affection, and buries his face in his hands. 

Robin returns to find them like that, cuddled up on the couch, with Steve laughing and Eddie trying to disappear entirely.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asks hesitantly, like she’s not sure she actually wants to know.

“None of your business, Robin,” Steve says, throwing her words from earlier back at her, and despite his embarrassment Eddie feels more at home than ever as he listens to the two of them banter with each other.

He loves these people, he decides. 

And maybe he was wrong. Maybe there’s something there with Steve after all.

The next time he goes over to Steve’s he’s under the impression that he’ll be walking in and partaking in a “family” dinner with everyone. Steve had called the trailer the day before and asked Eddie to come over for dinner today, which was the day that the whole group usually met up.

So imagine his surprise when he entered the house to find only Steve, darting around the kitchen with a flour-covered apron thrown over some nice clothes that Eddie had never seen him wear before.

“Oh, hey Eddie!” Steve exclaims when he notices Eddie standing in the entrance to the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’d give you a hug, but, y’know.” He gestures at the powdery front of his apron. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh at the sight. Steve is a vision in a navy blue turtleneck and well-fitting cream dress pants, and his hair somehow looks even better than usual, making Eddie feel a little self conscious in his usual attire of a band t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket.

He doesn’t feel too put out, though, considering the chaotic energy in the kitchen shows that Steve isn’t quite as put together as he looks. Flour and other various baking ingredients are strewn about everywhere, and dirty dishes pile up in the sink past the top of the faucet. Steve himself looks harried and a little out of breath.

Need help? Eddie writes, showing it to Steve.

“No, that’s okay,” Steve says, whipping around suddenly to pull something out of the oven. “I’m almost done here. You can sit, if you want.”

Eddie takes him up on it, taking a seat on a barstool to watch Steve work. Despite his appearance, Steve is talented in the kitchen. He knows exactly what he’s doing and even seems to enjoy cooking, especially when it’s for his friends. Eddie doesn’t know much about Steve’s parents other than that they’re never home, but he can’t imagine that Steve got this passion from them. It seems like something that Steve cultivated himself.

Steve hums as he works, seemingly completely comfortable with Eddie watching his every move. Steve’s presence is enough to make Eddie comfortable, and he lowers his head down onto folded arms to watch. He kicks his legs a little underneath the countertop, stimming in a calm and comfortable way.

It takes no more than ten minutes for Steve to declare the meal finished, plate it, and carry it to the dining room. 

“If you wanna go sit down, I’ll be there in a second. Just gotta wash some of this off me,” Steve chuckles, gesturing towards his ruined apron and dirty hands. He has a streak of flour on his nose that Eddie elects not to tell him about.

He watches Steve’s retreating form in confusion before heading into the dining room. No one else had arrived yet, which was strange for the group of kids that always wanted to spend as much time as they could with their so-called babysitters.

He takes a seat in his usual chair, then pauses.

The table is only set for two.

Not only is it only set for two, but there are two candles lit on either side of the table and fresh flowers sit in the center.

Wait a goddamn minute.

Is this a date?

This cannot be a date.

Right?

The rational part of Eddie’s brain is telling him that, no, this can’t be a date, because he would’ve been informed beforehand and Steve has never actually admitted to being attracted to him. He’s only flirted. 

But he has flirted. More so with Eddie than with Nancy, whom Eddie knows Steve had a thing with before and is teased about still being hung up over, and more so with Eddie than with anyone Eddie had seen Steve with since they became friends.

And Steve did seem a little different over the phone. It had been an interesting experience, having a phone call without speaking himself, but they made do, and Eddie assumed Steve was acting off because he’d never had a phone call this complicated before.

But Steve had sounded so excited when Eddie confirmed that he could be there, and had asked if Eddie had any food preferences, which Eddie got Wayne to explain. If the raised eyebrow and knowing smirk from Wayne was anything to go off of, Eddie isn’t the only one that thought Steve was acting a little stranger than usual.

Oh, god. This is a date, isn’t it?

Eddie doesn’t have time to obsess over his clothing or how his uncle didn’t tell him Eddie was going on a date because clearly Wayne knew more than Eddie did , because Steve comes stumbling back into the room, apron-less and as devastatingly beautiful as ever.

“Hi,” Steve says, blushing in the candlelight as he takes his seat. “Sorry for the wait.”

Eddie realizes he left his journal and pen in the kitchen and is about to go and get it when he notices a piece of paper lying next to his plate with a pencil placed diagonally across it.

He could cry right now, he really could. Steve is the most thoughtful person Eddie has ever met.

He grabs the pencil and writes No worries . He hesitates a moment, then writes, you look nice .

Steve’s cheeks redden further. “Thanks, Eds. You look nice, too.”

Eddie hides his grin in his elbow. He wouldn’t necessarily qualify his outfit as nice , but he does know he looks good.

“I hope all the food is good,” Steve says, insecurity leaking into his voice. “I think it is, but I know you struggle with certain textures, and I don’t know if I got the texture part right.”

I’m sure it’s great, Steve. And even if it wasn’t, I’d still really appreciate the gesture.

“Anything for you, Eds.”

Okay, so. Eddie really needs to confirm what’s happening here before they go any further or he’s going to explode.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he writes: Is this a date? I don’t know how to tell and I’m sorry if I’m reading it wrong.

That’s . . . kind of an awkward way of wording that, but there’s only so much Eddie’s little overwhelmed autistic brain can come up with right now to form such an important question.

Steve sucks in a breath across the table, and Eddie braces for the worst.

“I- I thought this was a date. I’m sorry Eddie, I thought I made that clear. Do you not want it to be a date?”

And Steve sounds so small, so worried that Eddie is going to reject him after he just laid all of this out for him. Eddie can’t let him keep feeling like that.

I want it to be a date, he writes, pressing down extra hard with the pencil as if it’ll drive the message home harder. I just didn’t really get the memo.

Steve sighs, presumably in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was gonna be really embarrassed if you rejected me.”

Eddie giggles, bringing a strand of hair in front of his mouth to hide behind it. The smile he receives from Steve is blinding.

“You’re so cute, Eds,” Steve says, shaking his head. “I can’t take it.”

He giggles again. You aren’t too bad yourself.

The conversation dwindles from there as they start to eat, stealing glances at each other between bites, unable to hold in their laughter. At some point Steve gets up and puts a record on, something soft and unobtrusive that really sets the mood.

During the bout of almost-silence, Eddie thinks. He thinks about how easy it was to fall into this dynamic with Steve despite his earlier anxiety about it. The anxiety is still very much there, especially because there’s so much he doesn’t know. Does Steve want to be in a relationship, or is this just a one-time thing for him? Eddie doesn’t know if he could take it if it was the latter.

But being around Steve puts a damper on all of Eddie’s worries. Steve makes him feel wanted, and he’s been doing that ever since the first night that Eddie spent at his house. Eddie doesn’t feel like a freak around him. He just feels like Eddie.

They finish dinner rather quickly and Steve clears the table, brushing off Eddie’s attempts to help. “You’re my date,” Steve says. “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I invited you over and made you clean.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the antics but backs off anyways. He still follows Steve to the kitchen, though, and watches him wash dishes as he tells a story about Dustin and Lucas and an honest-to-god banana peel that has Eddie laughing out loud.

He almost forgets that it’s a date, that he had presumed a situation like this would make him anxious. It just feels like hanging out with Steve, no expectations attached.

“Wanna go watch a movie or something?” Steve asks as he puts away the last dish and dries his hands. Eddie nods and tries not to faint when Steve approaches him and takes his hand, interlacing their fingers and gently pulling Eddie towards the living room.

They settle onto the couch together, thighs pressed together and hands tangled. Neither one of them makes a move to pick a movie or turn on the television despite that being the reason they came into the room. The air feels thick with unspoken words, a brewing storm of a conversation that needs to be had. 

Eddie hopes the clouds don’t rain on his little pride parade.

“So,” Steve begins, turning towards Eddie a little. “Should we talk about this?” Eddie sighs.

He nods once, copying Steve as he turns to face him. He pulls their joined hands onto his own lap and starts playing with Steve’s fingers to distract himself.

“I really like you,” Steve blurts out. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, one side of his mouth quirking up into a smile. “Shut up! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out, Munson.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“ Anyways , like I said, I like you a lot. Like, romantically. And I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for a while, but I was scared to ask and I figured going anywhere public might be a lot for you, so I asked Robin what she thought would be best and we planned this dinner.

“I realize I kind of fucked up the whole asking you on a date part, since you didn’t know it was a date, but I think it turned out okay.” He pauses, eyes widening. “It did turn out okay, right? You’re not just, like, placating me or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. With one hand  he grabs his journal, scribbling out it was perfect, Steve, thank you .

The tension bleeds out of Steve’s shoulders. “Good, good. I guess the next question I should ask is if you want to do it again?”

Is that even a question? Eddie asks, smiling wide. Of course I do.

Steve honest-to-god pumps his fist in the air, bouncing a little on the couch cushions. Eddie happy stims at the sight, and Steve’s eyes soften sappily when he sees it. Eddie can’t help but grow a little self-conscious, but he reminds himself that this is Steve. Steve gets him. He’s safe here.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Eddie,” Steve says softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’m really glad I met you.”

Eddie blushes and hides his face behind his and Steve’s hands.

“Don’t hide your pretty face, Eds,” Steve says. Eddie’s eyes widen at the compliment, and Steve giggles. “Sorry. I just wanna compliment you all the time, since you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever met.”

Eddie groans, squeezing Steve’s hand. I’m too weak for compliments , he jokes, I’ll just melt into a puddle and you’ll have to mop me up .

Steve laughs. “We wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

Comfortable silence coats the room, leaving Eddie with the burning thoughts in his head. He starts writing before he can think too much about it.

Do you want to be boyfriends? he asks first. 

Steve nods vigorously. “More than anything.”

Eddie’s going to scream into his pillow about that answer later, but for now he needs to focus.

You need to know that I won’t be easy to be in a relationship with. Eddie bites his lip, trying to ignore the shaking in his hands.

Steve cocks his head to one side, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, Eds?”

He sighs. I’m autistic, Steve. Eddie looks up to gauge if those words would remind Steve that this isn’t something that he wants, but Steve just meets his gaze steadily.

“I know that, Eddie. That’s not a problem.”

But it is. It’s a problem for Eddie, because he can’t be like all of the girls Steve has dated, nor can he give Steve everything that deserves. He writes as much down and turns the journal towards Steve. 

“Eddie, I’m not really sure what you’re getting at here,” Steve says, worry creeping into his voice. “Do you not want to be in a relationship with me?”

I do! he writes. But it’s a lot to ask of you to deal with me. I don’t speak. Maybe one day I’ll be able to speak out loud to you, but maybe I won’t. And I’ll never be fully verbal. And I have meltdowns, and shutdowns, and I stim a lot, and sometimes I can’t talk about anything but what I’m hyperfixated on, like D&D. I don’t understand a lot of social things and I don’t know how good I’d be at being there for you. You deserve better than that.

Steve makes a sound of discontent as he reads, and Eddie tells himself that he’ll be okay when Steve rejects him.

He has to be okay.

He waits, and he waits, but the rejection doesn’t come.

“Eds, I need you to listen to me,” Steve says softly, raising his free hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. “Can you do that for me?”

Eddie nods. He can feel the tears building behind his eyes.

“You don’t have to look at me, or anything, but I need you to hear what I’m saying,” Steve pauses for a moment, as if to make sure Eddie knows that what he’s about to say is important. 

“It is never too much to ask of anyone to treat you right, Eds. And to respect your boundaries, and to respect that there are things you struggle with that maybe other people don’t understand. You have never felt like a burden to me, Eddie. I need you to know that. And you never will be a burden, not to anyone. Not to me, not to Robin, not to your uncle, not to the kids. We all love you so much, and there’s nothing about you that could ever change that.”

Hot tears slip down Eddie’s cheeks, and he squeezes Steve’s hand so tight he swears he can feel the bones creak.

“And,” Steve continues, his voice raw, “I know that you’re nonverbal, Eds. I respect that. I never expect you to speak to me. You don’t owe that to anyone. Even if you never say another word I will like you just as much as I do right now, in this moment and all the ones that came before.

“And a relationship goes both ways, Eddie. Neither of us will be perfect at it. And as far as being there for me, that’s all you need to do. Be there. I would never ask anything of you that I know you can’t give. I don’t deserve better than you, Eddie. I don’t know if I’m even good enough to deserve you, as near-perfect as you are. But I want you. I want to be with you. And if the only thing stopping that is your head telling you that you’ll be a burden to me, then I need you to know that that’ll never, ever happen.”

Eddie is crying hard, now, and Steve brushes the tears off of his face gently as they fall. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispers. “I’m sorry you feel this way.”

Eddie breaks.

He falls forward into Steve’s chest, sobbing. He hates crying in front of people but he can’t help it, every part of him that has ever hated who he is is boiling over and he can’t hold it in anymore.

Steve gathers him in his arms and holds him as he cries, pulling Eddie into his lap to make him more comfortable. Eddie grasps at Steve’s shirt, shaking his fists to expel some of the uncomfortable energy building up inside of him. 

Strong hands run over his back, applying just enough pressure that the movement is soothing rather than overstimulating. Slowly but surely Eddie is able to copy Steve’s breathing, slowly returning back to a normal state.

Steve presses a featherlight kiss into Eddie’s hair, whispering soothing words into his ear. Eddie burrows further down into Steve’s neck, humming lightly and twisting the shirt beneath his fingertips.

Many moments pass before Eddie feels together enough to sit up and face Steve. When he’s finally able to do so he can’t meet Steve’s eyes, instead turning his head to face the wall to wipe at his ruined face.

“Hey,” Steve says gently. “Any better?”

Eddie nods, trying not to let a second bout of tears emerge. He’s always so incredibly fragile after he breaks down, and he’ll struggle to keep in the tears at almost anything anyone says to him.

Steve seems to get it without Eddie having to explain. He pulls Eddie into a tight hug, twisting his fingers into Eddie’s curls to bring him as close as possible. Eddie feels more warm and taken care of than ever before, and he sinks into the embrace.

He could fall asleep like this, he thinks, but the anxiety still dancing around his chest won’t allow him to.

Eddie pulls back slightly, gesturing towards the journal that’s out of his reach and that he doesn’t have the energy to reach over and get. Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple before retrieving the journal and pen and handing it to Eddie.

Hell of a way to ruin a date , Eddie tries to joke with trembling hands. Steve makes a noise of disagreement.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Eds,” he says, tone serious. “I promise you. You ruined nothing.”

Eddie takes a deep, shaky breath. Thank you, he writes. For being here .

A hand runs softly through Eddie’s hair. “I’ll always be here for you.”

A grin fights its way onto Eddie’s face, fleeting but sure.

And thanks for saying those things. I know you mean them.

“Of course I meant them.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Can you let me finish, Harrington?

Steve laughs lightly, throwing his hands up to claim innocence, but he keeps his mouth shut.

If you think you can handle me, I want to be with you, Eddie writes. I want to be your boyfriend.

Steve smiles, soft and pretty in the dim light of the living room. “Eddie, you’re not something to be handled. But I know I can be here for you, as much as you’ll let me, and I want to be your boyfriend too.”

Eddie’s heart beats faster. So . . .

“So . . . boyfriends?” Steve asks.

Eddie laughs. Boyfriends.

Steve pulls Eddie back into his chest tightly, trapping the journal between their bodies. “Eddie! We’re boyfriends now!” he exclaims, careful to keep his volume low so as not to overwhelm Eddie further.

Eddie giggles, pulling back and flapping his hands in excitement. He has a boyfriend! And it’s Steve Harrington!

After the initial excitement dies down a little, Steve’s face grows serious. “Eddie?” he asks. Eddie cocks his head to show that he’s listening. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh. Oh .

Eddie sort of forgot about that whole part of romantic relationships. He’d gotten so wrapped up in the idea of being a special person to Steve that he forgot about kissing.

And, god, does Eddie want to kiss him. So he nods.

Steve smiles softly, nerves showing only in the darting of his eyes all over Eddie’s face as if to ask if Eddie is sure. Eddie grins back at him, nodding again. He feels oddly at ease for someone who’s never kissed anyone before.

And then Steve leans in, capturing Eddie’s lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It only lasts a few seconds, just long enough for Eddie’s insides to turn to goo and his brain to go pleasantly fuzzy.

It felt so much better than he ever could’ve imagined.

He giggles, cupping Steve’s face in his hands. Steve looks so happy, so infatuated with him that it could almost be a reflection of his own emotions. 

“What?” Steve asks dopily. “What’s so funny?”

Eddie only giggles harder. Pulling one hand away, he writes nothing’s funny. I just think I could kiss you forever .

Steve leans in closer after he reads the words. “I think we can make that happen,” he whispers, and then connects their lips once more.

An hour and a multitude of kisses later, Eddie has to go home.

His uncle had been very adamant that Eddie come home before curfew that night and not spontaneously decide to stay over. Eddie had been confused before, as Wayne had never been strict like that, but now he gets it. Wayne knew way more than Eddie about what was going to happen tonight.

Reluctantly, the two boys rise from the couch and make their way to the front door, clinging onto each other’s hands the whole way.

When they reach the door they stop, turning to face each other.

“I wish you could stay,” Steve sighs, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist.

That eager to get me in your bed? Eddie jokes. He doesn’t know where that came from, but Steve laughs.

“Been there, done that,” he responds, and Eddie hits him in the chest. “Kidding, kidding. I just like being around you, Eds. Don’t want you to go.”

Eddie stares at his boyfriend, taking in his pouty expression.

I’ll see you tomorrow? Eddie asks, hopeful.

Steve nods. “Absolutely. I’ll call in the morning?”

Eddie hums his agreement, pocketing his journal and leaning forward to embrace Steve completely. He feels so safe in Steve’s arms that he wishes he could live there, carve out a space for himself to hide away from the rest of the world.

He can’t, though. At least not right now. Now he has to go home.

Steve opens the front door and the van door for Eddie, trying his hardest to appear as a perfect gentleman. Eddie finds it endearing.

“Tomorrow?” Steve asks one more time, as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

Eddie nods, leaning in. Steve kisses him one last time, soft and unhurried, and yeah, Eddie’s going to be thinking about this night for the rest of his life.

“Bye, Eds,” Steve says reluctantly, stepping away from the van so Eddie can drive away.

Eddie raises a hand in a little wave, his heart panging at the idea of leaving his new boyfriend so soon, and reverses out of the driveway.

Wayne is waiting up in the living room, sprawled out on the recliner, when Eddie gets home. He jumps up when his nephew strolls through the door, accidentally knocking over a bowl of popcorn.

“Well?” Wayne questions, “How did it go?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I was going on a date.

His uncle’s jaw drops. “You didn’t know?” Eddie shakes his head. “Looks like you figured it out, though?”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, questioning.

“It’s just that you look really happy. More than you usually do after you see your friends.”

Eddie can’t fight the blush that overtakes his face. He’s my boyfriend now, he writes, I have a boyfriend!

Wayne exclaims in delight and pulls Eddie into a hug. “Oh, Eddie,” Wayne says wistfully, “I’m so happy for you, son.”

Eddie doesn’t want to cry again, but a single tear slips out against his will. He’s so grateful for his uncle and everything he’s done for him, the way that he’s accepted Eddie and all of his eccentricities and flaws without ever trying to change him.

With one final pat on the back, Wayne pulls away and holds Eddie by the shoulders. “I am going to have to talk with that boy, though. Let him know not to mess with my nephew or I’ll hunt him down.”

“ Wayne ,” Eddie groans softly, the first word he’s said all day. “Do not.”

Wayne chuckles. “It’s gonna happen, Eddie, whether you like it or not. I’ve gotta make sure he treats you right.”

And Eddie’s appreciative of that, he really is, but that’s going to be so embarrassing for him. 

They converse a little more, Eddie going back to his paper and pen, before the tiredness hits them both and they say their goodnights, hugging tightly in the hallway before parting ways to go to bed. Wayne managed to calm Eddie down and help him calm down a little, enough so that he felt up to going to sleep.

Eddie strips off his uncomfortable jeans and tear-stained shirt and changes into his most comfortable clothes, climbing onto his mattress with a smile on his face.

He has a boyfriend.

And he knows that this is real. That Steve really likes him as much as he says he does. He’s never felt this secure in his life.

He can’t wait to wake up tomorrow, which is something he hasn’t been able to say in a long time. Maybe ever. 

And as he lies in bed that night, waiting for sleep to come, he allows his mind to drift to all of the things that are good in his life. All of the things that make him happy, that have saved him from the pit he was in.

Eddie is happy. He’s so fucking happy right now.

He falls asleep with the memory of Steve’s lips on his and the promise of a tomorrow worth waking up to.