Chapter Text
Epilogue
One Year Later
Despite its slightly menacing exterior, Shotgun Ink and Piercings is a rather well-lit and welcoming establishment. The same rule applies to the artists who work here. Almost all of them greet Eddie by name, one or two with a hug and a quick catch-up chat to see what all Eddie’s been up to since they last saw them. Eddie leaves out Spring Break, and rightfully so, instead opting to excitedly tell them about how he’s finally graduated and found himself a rather enjoyable job at the local mechanics Of course, he regales his tale with all the regal storytelling prowess one would expect of Eddie Munson but he leaves the best part for last.
“This is Steve,” he says, gesturing to Steve who wiggles his fingers in greeting, “we moved in together last summer.”
The group of artists’ faces break into sheer delight at the news, offering their congratulations and how-do-you-dos to Steve who, while a little overwhelmed at the enthusiasm, is pleased all the same that Eddie has such good friends here. Friends that he happily brags about Steve to as they all get settled. They have a set appointment time, after all, can’t keep other customers waiting.
Eddie had explained the whole process to Steve on the drive over, but still, Steve can’t quite quell the anxious knotting of his insides as he watches Gerry—a bear of a man with kind eyes and who is Eddie’s usual artist—prepare his station.
“You all right, babe?” Eddie asks as Steve lays down on his side on the bench, the print of his tattoo design already transferred to the skin of his neck in pale purple lines, waiting for the real ink.
“Yeah, just, you know. First-time nerves,” Steve says, trying for light and just missing the mark.
One look at Eddie tells him he can see right through Steve’s shaky veneer, but that’s okay. Eddie’s the last person to make Steve feel small for his fears. Instead, he settles on a short stool at Steve’s side and takes Steve’s hands in his own, thumb drawing soothing circles into Steve’s scarred knuckles, gaze locked steadfastly with Steve’s and offering nothing but comfort.
“I can distract you if you want?”
“I… Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Steve murmurs, chest warming at the offer.
“Did I tell you the story about my first tattoo?” Eddie starts and just like that, Steve is lulled into a sense of ease, Eddie’s soothing voice carrying him away from the buzz of the machine and the dull pain of the needle scraping at his skin. Steve tenses a little here and there, especially when Gerry brushes over scar tissue, but Gerry is attentive, seems to know when it’s okay to keep going and when Steve needs a break and all the while Eddie is there with those gentle doe eyes and pale fingers wrapped around Steve’s.
At some point they move on from tattoos to Eddie’s rings, the significance each one holds.
“The crucifix here on the tombstone,” Eddie starts, pointing to the first of his large chunky silver rings, “is a reminder of life and immortality. The pig is meant to give strength to overcome obstacles.” He pauses a second, holding for dramatic purposes like the drama geek that he is, “And the skull, of course, is rebel, live, die.”
Steve hums thoughtfully, tracing each of the heavy-cast rings with reverence, their meanings giving new weight and adding unlocking another layer to his partner he did not know of. He loves that even now, after living together for months, he can still learn something new about Eddie. That he can look forward to a lifetime of learning some new every day.
Steve’s gaze flicks to Eddie’s right hand where the lone, black jewelled ring sits on his ring finger.
“And this one?”
Eddie takes in a deep breath, something like fondness but also melancholy crossing his features as he fingers the ring, idly twisting it to the black gem catches the light.
“This belonged to my mom.”
“Eds…”
Eddie shakes his head, smile small and wobbly but real.
“’s okay. I mean, it still hurts sometimes, thinking about her leaving and stuff but… the time we did have together, those are maybe the brightest memories from when I was a kid. At least before I moved in with Wayne.” He considers the ring carefully. “I always thought she was pretty brave, leaving when she did. I built up this, like, image of some badass fantasy heroine finally breaking free from her tower guarded by the evil dragon and running off to meet her true potential. It made being left behind sting a little less.”
Steve doesn’t know what to say, what could be the best response to something so heartbreakingly honest. So, he does the only thing he can, he brings Eddie’s knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss to each individual finger, injecting all the love and care and consideration one can in a simple exchange of touch.
“I love that you can do that,” Steve murmurs as he pulls away.
“Do what?”
“Take something tragic and turn it into something beautiful instead.”
“Geez, you two are sickeningly adorable,” Gerry grumbles softly though Steve catches a smile out of the corner of his eye.
“Can’t help it,” Eddie says with a shrug, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose which wrinkles just like a bunny's apparently when he smiles. (Eddie’s words, not his.)
“Right, well, I’m just about done,” Gerry says.
“Really? That went fast,” Steve says in surprise.
Gerry chuckles, the buzzing of the machine cutting off. “Probably helps to have a storyteller on standby to keep you occupied.”
“Maybe that’s something to consider, in case the mechanic thing doesn’t work out,” Steve teases, chuckling at the little cheeky poke of Eddie’s tongue in response.
“Wanna take a look?” Gerry asks as Steve sits up, gesturing to the nearby floor-length mirror.
Steve’s about to approach it when Eddie has to go and be Eddie and cover his eyes, insisting he leads him to the glass so it’s a surprise. Steve doesn’t have the heart to refuse him, though it doesn’t stop him from reaching out in front of him just in case so he doesn’t bump into anything. Eddie is many things, but graceful isn’t one of them.
“Okay,” Eddie murmurs right against Steve’s ear, his hands slipping away from Steve’s eyes. “Open.”
Eyes flickering open, Steve’s gaze immediately settles on the dark ink he sees in his reflection, a small gasp leaking past his lips.
Wrapped around the right side of his neck and tapering off at the left, it’s a branch filled with magnolia flowers in different stages of blooming, leaves and petals curling in a way that suggests movement in a breeze. It’s shaded exquisitely with overlapping lines in differing shades of black and grey, reminding Steve of the more detailed botany drawings one might have seen in the late nineteenth century. They cover Steve’s scars so perfectly, incorporating the scar tissue into the dark wood of the branches so well Steve can barely tell that they were ever there.
Eddie’s arms slip around Steve’s waist as he rests his chin on Steve’s shoulder, meeting his awe-filled eyes through the reflective glass.
“Well? Do you like it?”
Steve turns his head so he’s meeting Eddie’s eyes properly, voice hushed and fond as he replies, “I love it. Thank you,” before stealing a quick kiss. He turns around, Eddie still plastered to his back and flashes a grin to Gerry. “It’s beautiful, Gerry. Thank you.”
“Anything for Eddie,” the man says with an unaffected shrug. “Don’t be a stranger, eh? Either of you.”
“Oh, we won’t,” Eddie assures, flashing Steve with a knowing smile as he juts his chin towards the fresh ink. “All it takes is one and then you’ll be crawling back, begging for more.”
“You make it sound like an addiction,” Steve grumbles as Gerry goes about spreading a soothing gel on and wrapping clingwrap around the tattoo.
“Oh, he’s right,” Gerry says. “Once you get one, you suddenly can’t stop. Speaking from experience.”
“Well, at least we know who to go to then,” Steve teases, flashing Gerry a grin and a sly wink.
“I like him,” Gerry murmurs, patting Eddie approvingly on the shoulder as he passes.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, brown eyes soft and smile even softer. “So do I.”
The drive back to Hawkins from Indianapolis is long, but with Steve’s mixtape playing through the stereo and Eddie’s chatter to fill the silence, it’s easy to kick back and relax. At the halfway point they stop for gas, Steve offering to run in and get some takeaway burgers while Eddie fills the tank.
By the time Steve returns to the van with a greasy paper takeout bag in hand, Eddie’s sitting atop the hood, turning something over in his hands with a contemplative furrow to his brow.
Steve hops up to join him, the two connected from the hip all the way down the length of their legs while Steve digs out their takeout boxes. He holds Eddie’s out to him only to have to call his name twice before a distracted Eddie takes it.
“Everything okay?” he asks around a ketchup-drenched fry.
Eddie nods, though he’s still got that wrinkle between his brow, lips pursed in that way of his whenever he’s trying to piece his words together.
Steve is happy to wait him out, is licking his lips appreciatively at the smell of his bacon and cheeseburger wafting through the air when Eddie catches his hand.
“Eds?” Steve starts, confused until he sees what it is Eddie’s been toying with. It’s his mother’s ring, the dark gem glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. Steve watches, breath held, as Eddie slips it onto Steve’s left ring finger. It fits almost perfectly, the band still warm from being on Eddie’s hand.
“I know there’s probably a lot more romantic ways to go about this,” Eddie starts, “But I’ve always been the kinda guy who believes that, when you want something, you should just… go for it. So, uh, here goes.”
Eddie shifts so he fully facing Steve, one knee braced at Steve’s back, their hands tangled together between them, and Steve is silently thankful Eddie thought to park the car so they’re facing the nearby woods, any stray eyes that might look their way only seeing the back of the van and nothing more. This is a moment just for them, the faint jukebox music leaking through the diner out into the air mixing with bird calls and the rustling of foliage in the early summer breeze.
It's strange to think how quickly time has flown by. That this time last year he and Eddie were only just starting to stumble into their relationship. A relationship Steve treasures with his whole heart, has nourished and coaxed into blooming with Eddie’s helping hand. It’s hard to remember a time when they weren’t like this—together in every sense. Waking with Eddie curled protectively around him like an overly cuddly octopus, sharing breakfast at their rickety little dining table while playing footsie which quickly turns into playful kicking. Driving to work together and catching lunch with Robin when she can get away from classes long enough to meet them at Family Video. Hosting D&D nights at the apartment on the weekends and taking trips to the grocers down the street to stock up on everyone’s favourite snacks. Birthdays and bad days and movie nights and swaying together in the living room to their favourite songs. Waking abruptly from nightmares and feeling instantly safe knowing the other is there to catch them when they fall back into reality. Cuddles on the couch and the feeling of normalcy finally replacing the fear and the anticipation for the next end of the world.
It's been a good year. Dare Steve say it, maybe the best year he’s had in a really long time. One filled with family and friends and love and tenderness. So maybe that’s why it isn’t so much of a shock that this is where he and Eddie are at now. They might not be able to follow the path of most couples favoured by this society, but like hell would Eddie and Steve let that get in the way of this moment. They don’t need a slip of paper to tell them what they already know.
That this is it. That they are it for each other. That this is already all they need or could ever want.
“Steve Harrington, you’ve managed to surprise me more times than I’m willing to admit,” Eddie says, pulling a laugh from Steve and a grin from himself. “Your bravery far exceeds the boldest of paladins, your love and friendship rivals that of Sam and Frodo’s, and don’t get me started on how damn good you are in bed.”
Steve rolls his eyes, wondering not for the first time how Eddie can manage to be crass and romantic at the same time.
Eddie’s cheeky grin softens, seriousness returning. “But more than that, you’re my best friend and someone I know I can always turn to. You’re… God, you’re just… It’s been a year and yet you still make me stutter, man, what the fuck?”
Laughter bubbles up Steve’s throat as Eddie collapses against him with an embaressed groan, Steve happily hugging him to his chest as he recuperates.
“I wanted this to be so smooth and romantic and shit and you’re making it impossible,” Eddie grumbles petulantly, his arms winding around Steve’s middle and giving him a tight squeeze.
“This is romantic, baby,” Steve assures, kissing the top of Eddie’s head and trying not to get those messy curls caught in his mouth. He mostly succeeds. “I just wish you’d waited till we got home so I could give you your ring, too.”
Eddie pulls back so quickly he nearly sends them both toppling over the edge of the hood, Steve having to steady them while Eddie blinks at him owlishly.
“You got me a ring?”
“Of course, I did,” Steve says, shocked that Eddie sounds surprised. “You’re it for me too, Eds. You know this.”
“I mean, yeah, I know,” Eddie says, a hand scrubbing across his nape as he chews on his bottom lip. “Just, I dunno, I still find myself wondering, like, how the hell I got so lucky. That out of everyone, you chose me.”
“Just don’t go where I can’t follow, and we’ll be good.”
Eddie’s jaw drops, pale cheeks turning cherry red and then he’s hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck again because, “I can’t believe you quoted Lord of the Rings to me, you motherfucker. That’s romantic as shit.”
“That’s kind of the point,” Steve laughs, smattering kisses to Eddie’s heated cheeks and stealing one last kiss on those pouting lips just because he can.
“So, you get where I’m going with this?” Eddie asks shyly, his fingers twisting the ring that now rests on Steve’s finger.
“Yeah, I think I get where you’re going with this,” Steve agrees, grinning from ear to ear. “A lifetime supply of Eddie Munson. What more could a man want?”
“Jesus, Stevie, stop being so romantic or we’re gonna get caught doing something publicly indecent,” Eddie warns though it sounds more like a purr near the end, his gaze dancing to Steve’s smiling lips.
Eddie leans in and Steve indulges in the kiss, his left hand cupping Eddie’s cheek and relishing in how lovely it looks with Eddie’s ring on his finger, especially as he lets them trail into those messy curls, brushing past the shell of Eddie’s ear and earning the tiniest shiver.
The kiss is deep and a little dirty and Steve would love nothing more than to spread Eddie out across the hood of his van and show him all the ways he can be cherished but they’re already pushing it as is and besides, the bed at home is far more comfortable.
Eddie whines when Steve pulls away, trying to chase his lips, but Steve won’t let him, pressing a flat palm over Eddie’s pouting lips.
“Let’s go home, yeah? I want to see your face when you see the ring that I got you.”
“Home…” Eddie murmurs dazedly and Steve can feel his smile pressed against his palm. Eddie tangles their fingers together, pressing a quick kiss on the knuckle just above Steve’s ring before hopping off the hood. Steve accepts his help even though he doesn’t need it, happy for any excuse to have Eddie’s hands on his hips.
“Let’s go home,” Eddie agrees. They both know, without having to say it, that what he really means is I’m already home, here with you.
