Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Eddie likes to watch people.

Alright, that sounds as if he was some kind of perv or something but it’s not like that, he just likes to be aware of his surroundings.

That’s how he immediately clocked the moment Steve Harrington, “The King” of Hawkins High, lost his status.

Eddie remembers it as if it was yesterday, it was. He was with the Hellfire Club, eating at their usual table when he started his daily ritual of observing everyone else live their lives and it was when he swept his gaze to the direction of the table where the basketball team sat that he realizes someone was missing.

He looked around as an instinct; after scanning the place for a couple of seconds he spotted him. Steve Harrington sat alone in the very back of the cafeteria. And Eddie couldn’t help but notice the terrible state that his face was in.

One of Steve’s eyes was completely covered in dark purple bruises, and he had a busted lip which looked like it was still bleeding a bit.

“Holly shit, he looks terrible,” Eddie gasped, he didn’t intended on doing it loudly, but it managed to get the attention of the table, Jeff and Frank stared at him with confused looks.

“Harrington, it looks like he got himself into some trouble,” he explained, trying to sound as dismissive as he could.

“And that is important because?” Gareth then joined the conversation, looking at Eddie for a brief moment, then focusing on whatever he was drawing again.

Eddie’s mouth twisted into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not,” he said, quickly, a little too quickly. “Just… weird, that’s all.”

Jeff snorted. “Everything is weird to you.”

“True,” Eddie conceded, stabbing his fork into a limp cafeteria fry. But his attention kept drifting back, over and over, to the lone figure hunched at the back of the room.

Steve Harrington sat with his shoulders pulled in tight, like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. That alone was unsettling. Steve Harrington didn’t shrink. He sprawled. He laughed too loud. He took up air like it was owed to him.

Eddie watched as Steve picked at his food without really eating, his good eye flicking up every time someone passed too close. A couple of basketball players walked by his table without even looking at him. One of them bumped into Steve’s chair, not hard, but not exactly an accident either and kept going. Steve didn’t do anything about it. Just muttered something Eddie couldn’t hear and scooted his chair closer to the table.

Something in Eddie’s chest twisted, sharp and unexpected. Was he really feeling bad for that guy?

Surprisingly yes, a little bit.

Eddie suddenly stood up.

Gareth groaned. “What are you doing?”

“Stretching my legs,” Eddie replied, already grabbing his tray. “Doctor’s orders.”

“You don’t even go to the doctor,” Jeff said rolling his eyes.

Eddie flashed them a grin before turning and weaving through the cafeteria making his way to where Steve was.

Up close, Steve looked even worse. The bruise around his eye was angry and swollen, yellowing at the edges like it had been there a while. Eddie clocked the split lip, the faint scab at his hairline, the way his hands trembled just slightly as he lifted his fork.

Eddie stopped at the edge of the table. Steve didn’t look up at first.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked.

That got Steve’s attention. His head snapped up, confusion flickering across his face before it settled into something guarded. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, sure. It’s a free country.”

“Debatable,” Eddie said cheerfully, sliding into the seat across from him. “But I like your attitude.”

Steve blinked. He clearly hadn’t expected that. “You’re… Munson, right?”

Eddie pressed a hand to his chest. “In the flesh. Eddie. And you are, famously, The King Harrington.”

Steve huffed out a weak laugh before he could stop himself. He glanced around, like he was expecting someone to start laughing at him for talking to Eddie Munson of all people.

Eddie is used to that expression on people’s faces.

“I don’t think I still hold the title.” Steve muttered under his breath; Eddie almost didn’t catch it. Steve looked up again, staring at Eddie’s face for a brief moment, it made Eddie’s stomach turn a bit, the guy was almost glaring at him.

“What do you want?” he then asked, sharp at the edges, his voice low and defensive as he stared up at Eddie.

Eddie lifted both hands in surrender. He had to admit that the sudden shift on Steve’s attitude took him by surprise. “Whoa, easy, tiger. Nothing shady. I was just checking in.”

Steve’s eyes flicked over him, clearly skeptical. “Checking in on what?”

Eddie shrugged, trying for casual. “On you. You’re sitting back here alone, looking like you picked a fight with a lawnmower and lost.”

Steve’s jaw clenched immediately. “None of your business.”

Eddie winced. “Alright, I get it.”

Silence stretched between them. Steve looked away, shoulders stiff, fingers curling around the edge of his tray like he was bracing himself for something worse.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Steve muttered.

“Didn’t say you did,” Eddie replied, he tried to sound as relaxed as possible. “Just figured no one should have to eat alone if they don’t want to.”

That earned him a scoff. Steve finally looked back at him, one eyebrow twitching upward. “And what, I’m supposed to sit with you and your little cult?”

Eddie laughed under his breath. “Club,” he corrected. “Cult comes later. But yeah, if you want some company, our table’s open.”

Steve shook his head, a short, humorless sound leaving him. “I’m good.”

Eddie held his gaze for a beat, then nodded. “Alright. Message received.” He stood, grabbing his tray. “No pressure, Harrington.”

Steve was already looking back down at his food when Eddie paused.

“Still,” Eddie added, glancing over his shoulder, “the offer’s up.”

Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t even looked up.

As Eddie walked away, he couldn’t help noticing that Steve didn’t move from his seat either, just sat there, staring at the empty space where Eddie had been. He wouldn’t like to admit it but it did sting a little bit.

“What was that little scene?” Jeff asked as soon as Eddie sat down at their table.

“I wanted to know what happened, but I didn’t get much.”

“Well, obviously he wasn’t going to dump everything to you,” Gareth intervened, “He probably got into a fight with someone on the team.”  

Eddie hummed in response and decided to drop the topic, not really his problem to begin with so he didn’t understand the feeling he had of wanting to drag Steve to their table.

The rest of the school day Eddie made an extra effort into watching Steve, yeah, he wasn’t really dropping that topic. And something popped into his head.

Maybe he could keep poking the bear and see how much he would endure.

Eddie grinned, he was getting himself into murky waters.

***

When an idea enters Eddie’s head it is really hard to make it go away. It didn’t matter how bad it was, not even if it could get him into compromised situations.

Eddie likes a little challenge once in a while.

“You want to do what?” Robin stared at Eddie’s face, trying to decipher whether or not he was joking.

“You heard me loud and clear,” Eddie grin looking up at her since he was resting his head on her lap.

Once Eddie decided to adopt Steve, he needed for him to actually want to hang out with them, but he had no idea on how to approach the situation so he seek help. And that so-called help was Robin.

They have this weekly routine of having a picnic on Fridays, so Eddie took this moment to tell her all about his plan.

Robin didn’t answer, instead he yanked Eddie’s hair slightly.

“Ow, what the hell.”

“Are you looking to get beat up? We are talking about Steve Harrington, the guy has a temper, I’m assuming that is one of the reasons he got beat up in the first place.” Robin talked quickly, her fingers still wrapped around Eddie’s hair, waiting for him to say something stupid again.

“Okey first of all, let go of my hair,” Eddie said, trying to get free of her deadly grip. “And second, I came to you for help,” he pout.

“But I know why you want to get close to him and let me tell you again, you are either going to get beaten up or heartbroken. Maybe both.”

“How would I know if I don’t try it,” Eddie really was trying to cling into that bit of hope. “Ow, stop it,” he hissed as she pulled his hair again.

Robin once again stared at him with a dumbfounded look, as if debating on whether she was getting pranked or something. Finally, she rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Fine but if something that I warn you about does happens I will not feel pity for you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the best,” Eddie sat up and hugged Robin, rocking her side to side dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah, you can stop now,” Robin giggled, patting the top of Eddie’s head. “So, any plans on how to approach him again?”

“No fucking idea, he already shoo me off once,” Eddie sighed, closing his eyes and settled back on Robin’s lap.

Robin hummed in response and stayed silent for a moment.

And that silence was dangerous for Eddie, since he was already losing himself in his thoughts.

Why was he doing this? Well, obviously he has had a crush on Steve since… well, forever. But he always knew he could not do anything about it. It was going to stay like that, for the rest of eternity, just a stupid crush.

But when he saw Steve the other day, sitting al alone, stripped from his status, he couldn’t help but feel that blink of hope. And hope is a dangerous feeling, it makes you cling to that little spark at the end of the tunnel that could indicate something is there but could easily be a trick of your brain, making you see things that were never there.

“Are you alright in there?” Robin snapped her fingers an inch away from Eddie’s face making him flinch.

“I’m back,” Eddie croak, blinking rapidly. “So, any ideas yet?”

Robin looked at him for a brief second, as if sensing something was off. Eddie held his breath slightly, damn it, she knew him so well.

“I would recommend you wait a bit,” she finally spoke, seemingly dropping whatever thought she had before. “Everything is so fresh still, maybe he goes back to his friends eventually.”

And that is something Eddie was afraid of, he was hoping he could snatch him before that could happen.

“Agh, I hate that. I might actually combust if I need to keep my distance, again,” Eddie groaned.

“There is literally no way Steve is going to let his guard down any time soon.”

Eddie hated the idea of having to wait, even though he knew it was for the best he didn’t wanted to scared Steve off, still it physically hurt him having to keep a distance now that he could possibly have a chance.

“I was hoping I could bribe him with drugs.”

And that earned him another hair pull.

Chapter Text

Eddie wasn’t the best at following any type of advice. He couldn’t even count with his two hands how many times he had gotten in compromised situations just because he did the complete opposite of what was he told.

And that’s the reason he was ready to ignore what Robin said to him, the “Do NOT pursue Steve (yet)” advice. But the more he thought about it, he started to actually take into consideration the advice. Maybe she was right and it was for the best to just wait a little longer.

So, he made a list of pros and cons.

Pros of actually following the advice: 1. He would avoid another confrontation with Steve, the guy looked ready to crash out if he was being honest, 2. It would give him time to plan everything out, 3. He could see if Steve was really out of that friend group or if he would go back.

Cons of actually following the advice: 1. Steve could go back to his friend group.

He should probably just wait.

Eddie will be doomed.

So, he went to get a second opinion.

“Wayne, I have a hypothetical situation.”

Wayne groaned loudly.

“What is it Eds?” he asked not looking away from the tv screen.

Eddie smiled and sprinted towards the couch then jumping over the arm rest to sat beside his uncle.

“Okey, let’s say I know this dude. We are not friends or anything, but he just got dumped from his friend group and I, being the angel I am, decided to adopt him into mine but he said he would think about it,” if he wasn’t telling the complete story is nobodies business. “So, the thing is I want to convince him before someone else snatch him, but other people tell me to give it time see.”

“Mm. Was this guy open to the idea of getting into your friend group?” Wayne asked, slightly arching his eyebrow.

“Well…” Eddie trailed off.

Wayne stared at him, squinting his eyes and Eddie sighed, throwing his body back sliding off the couch slowly.

“I think you should listen to Robin.”

Eddie’s head snapped back toward Wayne.

“How do you know she was the one who told me that?” Eddie murmured, he had reach the floor by now and was sprawled like a star.

“She’s usually the only one who talks sense into your brain,” Wayne smiled down at him and then return to the game he was watching.

And Eddie groaned.

“Listen kid, I know you love to collect outsiders, it’s like your thing but there will be times that person doesn’t want to be… saved?” Wayne talked slowly as if talking to a child.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, I will leave him alone. For now,” Eddie sigh.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon, and for Steve that means movie night with Chrissy.

They had started this little tradition ever since they were kids, their parents being close friends meant many late-night gatherings at each other houses.

Chrissy was the only recurrent person in his life, everybody else was just a passing blur that never stayed long enough for him to care. She was his only and truly friend and he would do anything to keep her in his life.

Lately she had been extra busy with a cheerleading competition that was coming up, meaning they hadn’t seen each other that much during the past week, so Steve was very excited to finally have a chill time with his friend and talk about anything.

The last few weeks have been a living hell for Steve. His parents had shown up unexpectedly and all they did for the whole two days they were home was remind Steve how much of a disappointment he was.

And when they had finally left and he could catch a break he had gotten on a fight with fucking Billy Hargrove and now he was the new “King” apparently, leaving Steve to mend on his own.

Steve was a loner now. No girlfriend. No friend group. No popularity. No family. Nothing. He only have Chrissy and he didn’t want her to drift off.

But Steve hadn’t told her yet about the fight, they haven’t even cross paths last week so he will need to explain why his face was covered in bruises. His anxiety rise through his body at the thought of that.

Steve and Chrissy were part of the same group, basketball team and the cheerleaders, and Chrissy was sadly dating Jason for a while now, Steve never understood how that even happened. But now he wasn’t a part of that group anymore and he dreaded the idea of her choosing them and not him.

Steve wiped his hands on his jeans, they were shaking and he almost dropped one of the snacks he was setting down on the coffee table.

While he was trying to calm himself there was a knock on his front door, he cursed under his breath but quickly made his way to open the door.

“Guess wha- What happened to your face Steve?” Chrissy gasped and stared at him with her eyes wide open.  

She didn’t wait for Steve to answer, she entered the house made her way into the living room, dragging Steve with her and sat both of them down on the couch.

“What happen?” she asked again.

Steve felt his hands start to shake again. He tried to speak but nothing came out, Chrissy looked down and grabbed his hands.

“Steve, please tell me what happened. Have you gone to a doctor? Who did this?” Chrissy asked softly.

Her thumb started to draw circles on Steve’s hand; she knew that it helped Steve calm down.

“I… I got in a fight with Billy,” Steve murmured, looking down.

“When? Why? Steve, why didn’t you tell me? These bruises are not recent?” Chrissy looked worried, gently touching Steve face, trying to examine the damage.

“It was last week but you were busy with your practices, I didn’t want to-”

“Last week?” Chrissy interrupted him. “Steve, oh my god. Are you okey? Did you go to a doctor?”

“I am fine,” Steve sigh.

Chrissy wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hard squeeze. Steve exhaled, a little relief that she wasn’t that mad at him.

“Don’t you ever hide something like this ever again, do you hear me, Steven?” Chrissy gave him a stern look, holding his face with her two hands.

“Yes, I am sorry,” Steve gave her a small smile. “Now, I should guess what?” he tried to change the subject.

“I know what you are doing, I will let it slide,” she smiled back.

Steve chuckled but waited for her to continue.

“But I dumped Jason.”

“What? Oh my god, are you serious? Steve squeaked, he actually made that noise.

Chrissy barked a laugh and nodded her head.

“When did this happened?”

“This morning actually. I had been thinking about it for a while but the other day I literally watch him slammed Munson, the poor guy looked terrified. So yeah, I was like enough,” Chrissy explained.

“Wow, well I am actually very happy for you. He is a fucking dick,” Steve said. The relief he felt during that moment was intoxicating.

“Yeah, he was such a nice guy when I met him.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, then Steve remembered.

“Eddie talked to me the other day.”

Chrissy looked at him confused, not knowing where he was going with it.

“He wanted me to join his cult,” Steve made a face.

“Don’t be mean, he’s nice. He once helped me carry my books all the way to my car when my ankle was messed up,” Chrissy said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Steve huffed. “Yeah, well. Still weird.”

Chrissy gave him a look. “You’re always weirdly intense about him.”

“I’m not,” Steve shot back immediately. “He’s loud. He’s obnoxious. He sells drugs.”

“So do half the seniors,” she pointed out.

“That’s different,” Steve said, even though he couldn’t explain how. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, jaw tight. “And I’m definitely not joining his stupid cult.”

Chrissy smiled, like she knew something he didn’t. “You already talk about him a lot for someone who doesn’t care.”

Steve scoffed. “Whatever, let’s just pick a movie.”

Chrissy dropped the topic for Steve’s sake.

They ended up drifting off to sleep with Ferris Bueller’s Day Off playing in the background.

Chapter Text

Thursday mornings were Eddie’s least favorites. He had math at the very first period and it was truly hell.

But right now, he had other things occupying his mind. He wandered the school halls, his internal debate tumbling through his brain, for the last three days he’s been actively leaving Steve alone, as he was told to do.

It was harder than he anticipated, the last days Steve was still not back with his friends (dare he say ex friends?) and Eddie was feeling hopeful they were done for good but still, every time he saw Steve he had the urge to throw himself at him.

Steve’s been looking better, his bruises were starting to fade, and he didn’t looked as miserable as before, but he still looked rough and as if he needed a friend.

Oh, and Eddie dream he could be that someone.

As Eddie was fighting with everything in his mind, he lost track of time until he ran into something solid.

“Oof,” the person let out a soft, surprised sound as Eddie stumbled back a step.

“Are you okey?” the girl asked.

Eddie, still tangled in his thoughts, barely processed the words at first. He turned slowly, ready to mutter a rushed apology, until he actually looked at her.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Chrissy?” she smiled politely at him.

“Yep,” she said. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine,” Eddie replied quickly, nodding a little too fast. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chrissy said softly. “You looked… distracted.”

“Yeah, uh, something like that,” he muttered, forcing a small smile back at her.

There was a brief, awkward pause. Chrissy Cunningham didn’t talk to him. Not really. They shared a couple of classes, they existed in the same hallways, but that was it.

“Well, um… Sorry, again,” Eddie said quickly.

And then he almost sprinted away.

Before he realized he was standing outside his classroom, he went inside and sat down at his usual spot. Eddie then looked around, there were only two other guys already there and one of them was, unfortunately, Steve.

Eddie fought every single part of his body that encouraged him to go and talk to him, go and poke the bear but he wasn’t so sure now.

Follow his gut or Robin’s?

What if Steve actually hated him? And if he goes and try to talk to him, will he snap again at him or do something else? Was he capable of beating him? But how is he sure that would happen if he doesn’t give it a try?

Eddie was spiraling. Literally, he felt lightheaded.

The snap of fingers took him out of his trance. He blinked rapidly trying to focus on the person in front of him.

And that was none other than Steve Harrington, he was looking at him with a weird look and keeping a safe distance between them.

Eddie almost jumped back by the surprise of seeing him so close.

“You good there?” Steve spoke quietly.

Eddie swallowed, the joke, already halfway up his throat and dying there when he clocked Steve’s expression. He looked like a guy approaching a skittish animal and trying not to spook it.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie said, which was a lie so obvious it almost felt rude. He pushed his hair back, fingers catching in the curls. “Just, y’know. Existing.”

Steve didn’t smile. That alone threw Eddie more than if he had snapped again. He just nodded once, slow, like he was filing the information away, then glanced over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie knew that look, checking if someone was watching him interact with him.

“Look,” Steve said, voice low, clipped. “I’m not here to… whatever the hell last time was.” His jaw tightened, like even acknowledging it annoyed him. “I just need something. That’s it.”

Oh. Straight to business. Eddie could work with that. Probably.

“Right,” Eddie said quickly. “Yeah. Capitalism, baby.” He winced. Too much. Dial it back. “What do you, uh, need?”

Steve hesitated, and for half a second Eddie thought he might bolt. Instead, Steve shifted his weight, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and stared at the ground.

“Weed,” he said. Then, like he hated that it sounded like a request, he added, “If you’ve got it.”

There it was. Eddie felt something in his chest loosen, relief, maybe. Or the thrill of being needed, even if it was just for this.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, softer now. “Yeah, I’ve got some.”

And this was the moment he thanked whatever demon possess him to always carry some with him.

He reached into his jacket slowly, deliberately, like he was trying to show Steve he wasn’t about to pull anything stupid. When he looked back up, Steve was watching his hands, eyes sharp, shoulders still tense.

“You don’t have to stand like I’m gonna jump you, Harrington,” Eddie tried, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “I bite, but only if asked nicely.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up, annoyed. “I’m not.”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

That seemed to throw Steve off more than any joke. He frowned, lips parting like he was about to argue, then stopping himself. Whatever he’d been ready to say, he swallowed it.

“Just, how much?” Steve asked.

Eddie told him, named a price that was fair, maybe even a little generous. He handed over the baggie, their fingers brushing for the briefest second. Steve’s hand was warm. Solid. Real.

Steve flinched like he hadn’t expected the contact.

And that movement made Eddie’s chest ache.

“Thanks,” he muttered, already pulling his hand back, already retreating a step.

“No problem,” Eddie said.

Steve lingered anyway, just for a beat. Long enough to look at Eddie again.

“Hey,” Steve said finally, awkward, rough around the edges. “About before. I didn’t…” He stopped, shook his head. “Never mind.”

Then he turned and walked away to his stop.

Eddie was trying to decide whether or not he should say something else, anything. Steve seemed more relaxed, maybe it was his chance.

But just then the bell rang and people started to swarm into the room.

After hours of boring lessons that Eddie should make an extra effort to understand if he wants to finally graduate, the bell rang, announcing his so needed lunch break.

Eddie sprinted to the cafeteria ready to join the Hellfire Club as per usual but then he remembered that there was something more important he needed to do first.

Changing his direction, Eddie slipped past the cafeteria doors and headed outside instead, toward the benches near the back of the school where the smokers, skippers, and especially the band members liked to congregate.

Eddie spotted his target almost immediately: Robin Buckley.

She was sitting sideways on the bench, one knee pulled up, notebook balanced against her thigh, chewing absentmindedly on the end of a pen like it had personally wronged her. When she spotted Eddie, her eyes lit up in immediate recognition and concern.

“Oh, fuck. What did you do?” Robin said as soon as Eddie was within earshot.

Eddie pretended to be hurt by the accusation, bringing a hand to his chest and gasping loudly, “I am deeply hurt by your perception of me.”

Robin snorted. “You look like you’re about to either confess something illegal or start screaming.”

“Why not both?” Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face, fingers hooking into his rings. “Jesus, Buckley, I am, I am not okay.”

She tilted toward him, instantly serious now. “Okay. Start talking. Slowly. Preferably without implicating either of us in something that gets us expelled.”

Eddie huffed out a breath. “So. Harrington.” He said quietly.

Even though they were far from the other students out here.

Robin stiffened. Not much. Just enough that Eddie clocked it immediately.

“I swear I did follow your advice,” Eddie was quick to say. “He talked to me,” he then blurted. “Like, he came up to me. During class. Just walked right over like he wasn’t actively wrecking my mental stability.” He whispered-shouted.

Robin stared at him for a beat. Then another.

“So,” she said finally, very deliberately, “he approached you? You didn’t do anything to initiated it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Eddie threw his hands up. “I was minding my business. Spiraling internally. Respecting your whole ‘give him space’ thing. And then bam, Steve Harrington, right in my face, asking me if I’m good.”

Okey, maybe he wasn’t really telling it as it was. But it was nice to think it happened that way.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, as if sensing the lie. “He asked if you were good?”

Ah, she knew him so well.

“Well, I was zooning out and he was trying to get my attention but, that is not my point! He talked to me,” Eddie shook his arms dramatically. “And then,” Eddie rushed on, “he asked me for weed.”

“There it is,” she said, pointing at him. “That was the catch.”

“That’s not the point!” Eddie groaned. “The point is, we talked. Our hands touched. Briefly. But, like, meaningfully.”

Robin squinted. “You’re projecting.”

“I am perceiving,” Eddie shot back. “And he flinched, okay? Like he didn’t expect it. Like it surprised him.”

Robin leaned back, her gaze drifting to the school doors. “Isn’t that like, not a good sign?”

Eddie deflated a little at that, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. I know.” He picked at a splinter in the bench.

Robin sighed.

“Okay. So, he buys weed. He didn’t bite your head off. That’s… progress.”

“And then,” Eddie added quietly, “he almost apologized.”

That snapped her attention back fast. “Almost?”

“He started to. About before. And then he bailed.” Eddie’s jaw tightened.

“Eddie,” she said finally, lowering her voice, “you need to not—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I know. Don’t read into it. Don’t get hopeful. Don’t do anything stupid.”

She softened. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

He looked at her.

“Look, he approached you, for drugs yeah but it was something. It was one of your plans to lure him anyways.”

That made Eddie laugh softly.

“But maybe that gives you a way in? I am not saying you should start poking the bear,” she gave him a playful glare. “But maybe he will come back for more and there you can start small talk.”

Eddie slumped back against the bench, staring up at the cloudy sky. “It just feels like this will end up in him pulling the thread and then dropping it. And I will be the idiot unraveling over here.”

Robin nudged his shoulder with hers. “I mean, you are crushing over someone very particular, you should know better than anyone else that it is a deeply inconvenient experience.”

Eddie laughed despite himself, then groaned. “You think he hates me?”

“No,” she said immediately. Too fast to be a lie. “I think he’s confused. And hurting. And very bad at feelings.”

“Shocking,” Eddie muttered.

“And,” Robin added, glancing at him sideways, “it’s 1985. He doesn’t get to explore whatever the hell this is even if he wanted to.”

That landed heavy.

Eddie’s bounce stilled. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s the part that’s killing me.”

Robin broke the silence with a sigh. “Okay. Here’s the deal. You don’t push. You don’t disappear completely. You exist. Calmly. Non-threateningly.”

Eddie snorted. “I am inherently threatening.”

“You wear rings shaped like skulls,” she said dryly. “You’ll manage.”

“And if he comes to me again?”

Robin met his eyes. “Then you let him. On his terms.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

He paused, then added, miserable, “I hate this.”

“Again, you will manage,” Robin smiled, sympathetic.

And yeah, maybe Eddie could.

Chapter Text

Steve had been having a terrible week. But once again, that seems to be his new normal.

It started with the little things. The way people stopped making eye contact in the halls. The way conversations dipped when he walked by, they got just quiet enough to feel intentional. Like he’d stepped out of focus. Like he was already a rumor instead of a person.

The bruises were fading, technically. Yellowed at the edges, less angry than before. But they still pulled looks. Steve caught them in reflections: locker doors, car windows, the glass trophy case he used to pass without thinking. He still flinched every time someone moved too fast near him.

Then the headaches started.

Not the normal kind, not the kind you could drown out with aspirin and a Coke but the sharp, pulsing ones that started behind his eyes and spread like someone tightening a vise around his skull. They came and went without warning. Sometimes they hit so hard Steve had to stop walking and brace himself against the nearest wall, breathing through it like it might pass if he didn’t move.

It worried him. He never was the type to have headaches, not even after a wild night out. So, yeah, he was starting to worry.  

Billy’s fist had connected harder than Steve wanted to admit. He remembered the sound more than the pain, the dull crack inside his head, the way the world had tilted afterward. He hadn’t blacked out, not fully, but there were gaps. Little missing pieces he couldn’t quite grab onto.

But he still hadn’t gone to a doctor.

His parents had been home then. That alone had made the idea impossible.

Now it was just Steve, alone in a too-quiet house, lying awake night after night staring at the ceiling while his head throbbed and his thoughts ran in circles. Sleep came in short, useless stretches. He’d drift off for an hour, maybe two, then jolt awake with his heart racing and his skull screaming like an alarm.

But he couldn't bring himself to go get checked out still, it didn’t felt right for some reason he couldn’t explain.

Without even being aware a week had gone by.

He had been dragging himself through school on autopilot, squinting at the whiteboard, losing track of what teachers were saying halfway through sentences. The fluorescent lights made everything worse. Noise felt louder. Movement felt sharper. Even the scrape of a chair across the floor made his jaw clench.

By Thursday, he was exhausted.

Something was wrong. Steve knew that much.

He just didn’t know what to do about it.

Asking for help had never gone well for him.

That was how he found himself standing in the doorway of his math class, pulse pounding harder than it should have, vision swimming just a little. He took his seat and pressed his thumb into his temple, hoping no one noticed the way his knee bounced uncontrollably.

Then he saw Eddie Munson enter the room.

Eddie passed him and slouched into his usual seat, hair a mess, expression distant like he was somewhere else entirely. Steve watched him for a second longer than necessary.

Steve hated that he noticed things like that.

Then an idea came to his mind, before he could overthink it, he got up and approached Eddie, he called to him, but the guy seemed like he was in another world.

So, he snapped his fingers close to his face, as soon as he did it he regretted it but that seemed to bring back Eddie.

“You good there?” Steve asked quietly, mostly because the silence felt unbearable.

The words sounded wrong coming out of his mouth, too careful. Eddie startled like Steve had snapped him out of a trance, then rambled something that didn’t quite land. Steve nodded, not trusting himself to say much more.

His head was pounding now. He needed something, anything, to take the edge off.

That was his idea. Get weed.

The thought felt ridiculous and inevitable all at once. Steve had smoked before, parties, late nights, dumb dares, but never like this. Never because his body felt wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just need something,” he said, keeping his voice low. “That’s it.”

Eddie joked, of course. Steve barely registered it. The room felt too bright, too loud. He stared at the wall, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets to hide the tremor in them.

“Weed,” he muttered. “If you’ve got it.”

Saying it out loud felt like admitting defeat.

Eddie’s voice softened immediately, and Steve hated how relieved that made him feel.

When Eddie reached into his jacket, Steve’s eyes tracked the movement automatically. He couldn’t help it. His body reacted before his brain could tell it not to. He hated that too.

Their fingers brushed when Eddie handed him the baggie.

The contact sent a jolt straight through him startling him. Steve flinched, pulling back like he’d touched something he wasn’t supposed to and got caught. His head throbbed harder, a sharp spike that made him grit his teeth.

Get it together, he told himself.

“Thanks,” he muttered, already retreating, already putting space between them like it was safer that way.

But something made him linger.

Maybe it was the way Eddie hadn’t laughed at him. Maybe it was the way he had tried to include him as soon as he saw him stranded. Maybe it was just the exhaustion, the headache, the loneliness stacking up until Steve felt like he might crack open.

“Hey,” he said, stopping himself before he could walk away. “About before. I didn’t—”

He stopped.

How was he supposed to explain that he hadn’t meant to snap? That he was scared? That his head hurt all the time and he couldn’t sleep and everything felt too close and too loud and that Eddie seeing through him was the last thing he was prepared for?

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

And then he left, because staying felt dangerous in a way he didn’t have words for.

The rest of the day he made an extra effort to push through the day since that stupid headache hadn’t gone away.

Steve sat in his car later that afternoon, staring at the small plastic bag in his palm like it might explode. His hands were shaking again. He clenched them into fists, then relaxed them slowly, breathing through the dizziness.

Just to sleep, he told himself. Just to make it stop.

So that night he lit up a joint and smoked by the window in his room. The sensation that ran through his body was almost intoxicating. His muscles relaxed and the pain in his head faded into the background.

He let out a sigh, maybe this was the solution to all his problems.

Maybe he should have talked with Chrissy about all of this, but he didn’t want to be much of a burden as he already was to her.

He would eventually tell her.

***

The garage smelled like dust, old cardboard, and the faintest trace of gasoline, a safe place, as far as Eddie was concerned.

Gareth was already there, sprawled across the floor with his back against the washing machine, dice clutched in one hand like worry beads. Jeff sat cross-legged at the folding table, meticulously lining up his character sheet and snacks with military precision. Frank hovered nearby, flipping through one of Eddie’s battered notebooks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Okay,” Eddie said, clapping his hands once as he dropped his bag by the door. “Welcome, brave adventurers, to a realm of mystery, danger, and…” he gestured vaguely at the garage ceiling “… questionable structural integrity.”

Gareth snorted. “If this place collapses on us, does that count as a total party killer?”

“Only if you fail your dex saves,” Eddie shot back automatically.

The words came easy. The rhythm did too. Dungeon Master voice on, real-world brain off. Or at least, that was the idea.

They settled in, dice clattering, character sheets rustling. Eddie launched them into something simple: a dusty roadside tavern, a job board with half-torn notices, a missing merchant rumored to have crossed into cursed woods nearby. Nothing complicated. Just enough to keep them busy.

“You enter the tavern,” Eddie intoned, lowering his voice. “It’s quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl. The bartender watches you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong.”

“I don’t trust him,” Jeff said immediately. “I ask what happened to the merchant.”

“Roll persuasion.”

Jeff rolled. Decent enough.

“The bartender sighs,” Eddie said. “Says people who go into those woods don’t always come back the same. If they come back at all.”

Frank leaned forward. “Okay, that’s ominous as hell.”

“Everything is ominous,” Gareth said. “That’s literally the point.”

They moved through it easily, some light combat with a couple of low-level creatures Eddie vaguely described as ‘wolf-ish but… wrong’. Gareth cracked jokes every time he rolled badly. Frank got way too invested in saving an NPC. Jeff kept track of everything like the responsible person he was.

Eddie did his job. He narrated. He joked. He kept the story moving.

But every so often, his focus slipped.

A roll would take a beat too long to register. Someone would say his name, and he’d blink like he’d been pulled out of deep water. Once, Gareth asked what kind of damage a hit did, and Eddie stared at the table for a full second before answering.

“Dude,” Gareth said lightly, squinting at him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said too fast. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

About Steve Harrington’s hands shaking.

About the way his eyes had tracked Eddie’s jacket like it might suddenly turn into a weapon.

About how wrong it had felt. Everything was just… off.

They wrapped the session early, the party setting up camp on the edge of the cursed woods, cliffhanger intact.

Frank started packing up first. “Same time next week?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Assuming we survive.”

Gareth lingered.

Eddie noticed immediately.

Gareth didn’t say anything at first. He just leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching Eddie shove dice back into their container with more force than necessary.

“You’ve been weird,” Gareth said finally.

Eddie scoffed. “I’m always weird. That’s my brand.”

“Not like this,” Gareth replied. He tilted his head. “You were zoning out. Like, a lot.”

Jeff glanced between them but stayed quiet. Frank suddenly found the contents of his backpack very interesting.

Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It’s nothing.”

Gareth raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And I’m the King of England.”

There was a beat. Eddie hesitated.

Then he gave them the safest version of the truth.

“Steve Harrington asked me for weed,” he said.

That got some reactions from his friends.

Jeff blinked. “Steve Harrington?”

Frank’s head snapped up.

Gareth let out a low whistle. “Okay. Didn’t have that on my bingo card.”

“He just came up to me. In class. Asked. That’s it,” Eddie said quickly.

“Still weird,” Gareth said. “Especially after he snapped at you in the cafeteria.”

Eddie shrugged, trying for casual. “Yeah. That’s what I mean. Just… weird. One minute he’s biting my head off, next minute he’s asking me for a favor.”

Jeff frowned. “He looked pretty messed up lately.”

Eddie stiffened before he could stop himself.

Gareth caught it. Of course he did.

“So, it is bugging you,” Gareth said gently.

Eddie huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I just don’t like not knowing where I stand with people, man. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie.

It just wasn’t the whole truth.

Gareth studied him for a second longer, then nodded. “Fair.”

Jeff clapped his hands once. “Well. If Harrington turns into a problem, we’ve got your back.”

“Yeah,” Frank added. “Hellfire solidarity.”

Eddie smiled, small but real. “Thanks.”

They filed out soon after, the garage falling quiet again.

Eddie sat alone at the table for a long moment, staring at the dice.

Steve Harrington didn’t feel like a problem.

He felt like a question Eddie wasn’t ready to answer. And that, somehow, scared him more.

Chapter Text

Finals were breathing on Eddie’s neck. They were so fucking close and Eddie didn’t felt prepared for them.

It wasn’t just the exams, it was the weight of what failing again would mean. Another year stuck. Another look from teachers that said we expected this. Another quiet disappointment Eddie would pretend not to notice.

He really wanted to make this year his year, to finally be able to graduate once and for all. He wanted to make Wayne proud by finally achieving something important.

Wayne never pressured him. Never raised his voice or made demands. That almost made it worse. Eddie wanted, needed, to prove that all the second chances hadn’t been wasted.

So, his anxiety crept higher with every second that passed.

It buzzed under his skin, made it hard to sit still. Every minute felt like borrowed time.

He was buried in history books at the cafeteria table, his lunch long forgotten beside him, untouched and growing cold. Dates and names blurred together on the page, but he forced himself to reread the same paragraph again and again until something stuck.

Wars and revolutions. Dead men arguing over borders that no longer existed. Eddie pressed his thumb into the margin of the book, grounding himself. He didn’t have to like it. He just had to pass.

“Hello?” a voice called.

Eddie blinked, disoriented. “What?”

Gareth stood there, arms crossed, looking mildly offended. “Dude. Your books are staging a hostile takeover.”

Eddie glanced around, finally noticing the absolute sprawl he’d created. Oh, he forgot about that.

“Crap, sorry man,” He smiled sheepishly and started stacking his things.

Gareth sat down, Jeff and Frank following suit. The familiar weight of them settling in helped, like muscle memory. Hellfire. His people.

“You’re really serious about this year, huh?” Jeff said, nodding toward the pile.

“Yeah, I gotta make my man proud,” Eddie smiled at the thought of that. “And I really want to get out of here.”

Out of Hawkins. Out of the expectations. Out of the version of himself everyone thought they already understood.

The cafeteria buzzed around them, trays clattering, voices overlapping. It was familiar enough to be comforting. Then, without meaning to, his gaze drifted.

Steve Harrington sitting a few tables over. He was still alone and Eddie felt a little bad about being relieved about that.

No crowd. No easy smiles. Just Steve and his food, barely touched, like he wasn’t entirely present. That seems to be the new normal for him now.

He looked… better. Less sharp around the edges. More relaxed, maybe. Like his shoulders weren’t constantly up around his ears anymore.

And that made Eddie’s chest feel weird in a way he refused to unpack.

Eddie shifted in his seat, telling himself to stop staring.

He reached for his books, standing up too quickly, chair legs scraping loudly against the floor.

That was when he collided with something solid.

“Oof… shit, sorry,” Eddie said automatically, already stepping back.

Steve was right there.

Up close, Eddie noticed the faint yellowing bruise near his jaw, the way his eyes were a little unfocused. The calm Eddie thought he’d seen earlier cracked instantly.

“Watch it,” Steve snapped, sharper than necessary, irritation flashing across his face like a reflex.

The words hit harder than they should have.

Eddie’s mouth opened, some joke already lining up out of habit, but the look on Steve’s face stopped it cold. That defensive look was there again.

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie said instead, quieter this time. “My bad.”

Steve didn’t respond. He just looked away, jaw clenched, shoulders drawing back up around his ears like armor snapping into place.

Eddie retreated without another word, heat crawling up his neck. He rejoined the guys at the table, forcing himself to focus on Gareth’s rambling about a test he definitely hadn’t studied for.

But his brain wouldn’t let it go.

So much for relaxed.

Maybe he’d imagined it. Maybe Steve had never actually looked better at all.

And the thought settled in, familiar and unwelcome, looping the way it always did.

Maybe Steve does hate me.

Eddie looked away.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything.

He tried to focus on his friends, joked with them a bit, and let the bell pull him forward into the rest of the day. He told himself he didn’t care.

But then again, he told himself a lot of things lately.

***

Steve was already in a terrible mood for some reason and arriving at his house didn’t help at all. He hated how silent it was, how empty it felt. It is a recurring thought that he has every single time he enters the house.

The silence pressed in on him, made every thought echo. There was no one to ask how his day had been. No one to notice when he winced or slowed down.

It had been a couple of days since he bought the weed from Eddie, and things were… better. Not fixed. Not even close. But the constant edge had dulled. The headaches still came and went, sharp and insistent, but the noise in his head wasn’t as loud anymore.

That scared him more than he wanted to admit. How easy it had been. How quickly he’d grabbed onto the relief.

Sleep came easier now. It wasn’t the perfect night sleep he has been craving for months now, but it was longer.

He didn’t wake up every hour anymore. Didn’t lie there counting cracks in the ceiling until sunrise.

He sat on his bed, window cracked open, smoke curling lazily into the dark. He’d smoked more than usual today. Not enough to scare himself but enough to feel loose, floaty, warm in a way that made his thoughts slow down.

His limbs felt heavy in a good way. Safe. For once.

His head still throbbed faintly.

Still wrong. Still not okay.

The weed didn’t fix it. It just made it easier to pretend it wasn’t there.

He reached for the phone on his nightstand, thumb hovering over the numbers.

Chrissy. He should call Chrissy. It was always nice to talk to her, she made him feel better. She always did.

She’d tell him he was overthinking. Or she’d just listen. Either way, it would help.

Steve squinted at the numbers, eyes unfocused, fingers a little clumsy.

The numbers blurred together longer than they should have.

He dialed.

The ringing felt louder than it should have.

Each sound echoed in his skull, stretching the moment thin.

***

Eddie sat cross-legged on his bed, guitar resting against his thigh. He wasn’t really playing, just picking at familiar chords, letting his fingers move on muscle memory while his mind wandered.

Music always helped. Even when it didn’t fix anything, it gave his thoughts somewhere to land.

It’s been a bit since Wayne had left to go to work, and that’s the time Eddie likes to practice.

The trailer felt different when Wayne wasn’t home. Almost like empty. And Eddie always filled that emptiness with music.

He was scribbling some lyrics on his notebook when the phone rang.

Eddie frowned, they never receive calls this late. His first thought was Wayne. His second was that something was wrong.

He got up, setting the guitar aside and grabbing the receiver. “Munson house,” he spoke.

There was a pause. Breathing on the other end. Soft. Uneven.

Eddie’s stomach twisted.

“…Hello?” He repeated.

Silence.

Then…

“Eddie?”

Eddie's brain short-circuited when he heard that voice. He would always recognize that voice anywhere, and that’s a thought he wasn’t really proud to have.

“Steve?”

And he heard how Steve took a sharp inhale.

This wasn’t going to end well.

Chapter Text

Eddie could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Hello? Steve is that you?” He spoke again since the only thing that could be heard from the other line was heavy breathing. “Listen, if this is a prank-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to call you,” Steve finally answered.

But Eddie couldn’t help but noticed that he sounded different.

“Ouch,” Eddie tried to joke. “Hey, are you… alright?” He then added quickly, he couldn’t help himself, it was going to kill him if he didn’t at least try to pry.

There was a pause. Eddie knew Steve was still there, he could hear him breathing softly into the receiver like he’d forgotten it was pressed to his ear.

“I’m… yeah,” Steve said finally, dragging the word out. “I think so. I mean. I’m home, so that’s good, right?” He gave a short, breathy laugh that didn’t quite land. “You ever get that thing where your head feels… loud?”

Eddie frowned, tightening his grip on the phone. This is the longest Steve had talked to him without being defensive.

“That’s not usually a great sign, man.”

“I know,” Steve said quickly, a little too quickly. “I know. It’s just…” He stopped, words tangling up on themselves. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I didn’t mean to call you. I was trying to get Chrissy…” He sighed. “Never mind.”

Eddie swallowed. “You sound weird,” he said carefully. “Not bad weird. Just… different.”

Another pause. Steve huffed out a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. I get that a lot.”

Eddie leaned back against the wall of the trailer, the cool paneling grounding him. His heart was still racing, but now there was something else creeping in concern.

“Are you high right now?” Eddie asked, keeping his voice light, like he was joking. Like the answer didn’t matter.

Steve didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his voice dropped, softer.

“…Maybe.”

That did something unpleasant to Eddie’s chest, that’s the reason his not being a dick. He’s not really aware he was talking to him.

“Okay,” Eddie said slowly. “Okay, that explains a few things.”

“Does it?” Steve murmured. “Because I feel like I’m explaining everything really badly.”

Eddie snorted despite himself. “You’re doing great, Harrington. Five stars. Very coherent.”

Steve laughed again, this time a little more genuine. Then his tone shifted, hesitant, like he was standing on unfamiliar ground.

“Hey,” he said. “About earlier. Today. At school.”

Eddie froze.

“What about it?”

Steve inhaled, exhaled. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. In the cafeteria. Or, whenever. I don’t know. I’ve been kinda on edge.” He paused, then added quietly, “That’s not your fault.”

Eddie stared at the far wall, at the faded poster he’d taped up years ago. “Oh,” he said. “Uh. It’s fine. I mean, I bump into people all the time. Occupational hazard.”

“I know,” Steve giggled.

And Eddie’s heart raced even faster at the sound. What is happening? Is Eddie dreaming? Is he dead? Because this can’t be happening right now.

Eddie then remembered Steve was still talking, “But still. I don’t… hate you. Or anything.”

That word hit Eddie square in the chest.

Hate.

“Oh,” Eddie repeated, dumber this time.

Steve seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late. “Not that you thought that,” he rushed on. “I just, sometimes I sound like an asshole even when I don’t mean to be. Which is… often.”

Eddie let out a quiet breath.
“Yeah,” he said carefully. “You kinda have a reputation.”

Steve hummed. “Working on it.”

There was another stretch of silence, but this one felt different. Less sharp. Like neither of them was in a hurry to end it, even if they didn’t know what to do with it.

“Anyway,” Steve said eventually, voice already drifting, like he was getting tired. “I should go. I really didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You didn’t,” Eddie said before he could stop himself. Then, quickly, “I mean, you’re good. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Steve murmured.

The line clicked.

Eddie lowered the receiver slowly, staring at it like it might disappear if he looked away.

He stood there for a long moment, heart still pounding, thoughts crashing into each other without forming anything solid.

Steve Harrington had called him.

By accident.

High.

And apologized.

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face, laughing quietly to himself, the sound a little hysterical.

“What the hell,” he muttered to the empty room.

A new question popped into Eddie’s head. Was the only way for Steve to open up was when he wasn't sober?

Eddie didn’t have an answer.
Just the echo of Steve’s voice in his ear, and the uncomfortable realization that he was absolutely, undeniably going to be thinking about this for a long time.

It took him an excruciating long amount of time to be able to fall asleep but eventually when the tiredness he felt throughout the day finally got to him, he drifted off with Steve’s voice still ringing in his brain.

As expected, Eddie couldn’t keep this incident to himself for much longer, so as soon as he woke up, he went to find Robin.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Eddie said quickly as soon as Robin answered his call.

“Dude, you can wait until we see each other at school,” Robin sounded tired, but then again it was 7 in the morning.

“I will pick you up, bye!” and Eddie hung up.

He actually couldn’t wait.

Ten minutes later Eddie was outside Robin’s house waiting impatiently for her to climb up into his van.

Robin appeared a moment later, hair pulled back messily, oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder like she’d dressed on autopilot. She squinted at him as she opened the passenger door.

“You look like shit,” she said, climbing in. “Are you on drugs again?”

Eddie peeled out of the driveway a second too fast. “He called me.”

Robin blinked. “Who called you?”

Eddie swallowed. “Steve.”

That got her fully awake. She straightened in her seat, eyes wide.

Robin stared at him for a beat. Then she laughed.

“No. No way. You’re lying.”

“I wish I was,” Eddie muttered. “Wrong number. He meant to call someone else apparently.”

“Let me guess, Chrissy?”

“Yes, Chrissy,” Eddie said. “And somehow, magically…”

“…destiny intervened,” Robin finished brightly.

Eddie groaned. “Do not start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” she said, grinning. “You’re telling me Steve Harrington accidentally dialed your number instead of his best friend’s? Eddie, that’s not an accident, that’s fate.”

“It’s weed,” Eddie shot back. “It’s drugs and bad eyesight.”

Robin tilted her head. “Still. Of all the wrong numbers.”

Eddie tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “He was only nice because he was high.”

Robin’s grin softened, just a little. “Was he actually nice?”

“I mean, he apologized,” Eddie admitted. “For snapping at me.”

“Oh,” Robin said, quieter now.

“He sounded… different,” Eddie continued, hating how careful his voice was. “Loose. Like he wasn’t really thinking about what he was saying. Which means it probably didn’t count.”

Robin watched him for a long moment.
“Or,” she said gently, “it counted more.”

Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Because Steve Harrington definitely pours his heart out to the guy he barely tolerates.”

Robin didn’t argue. She just shrugged.

“Hey. I’m just saying. People don’t usually call people they hate by mistake and keeps up a conversation.”

Eddie didn’t respond. He pulled into the school parking lot instead, engine rattling as he shut it off.

“Anyway,” he said, forcing brightness. “It was weird. End of story.”

Robin hummed, unconvinced, but let it go. “For now.”

They got out of the van and headed toward the building, shoulders bumping familiarly before peeling off in opposite directions at the entrance.

“Try not to spiral,” Robin called after him.

“No promises,” Eddie shot back.

He entered the school, the hallway was already crowded, lockers slamming, voices echoing. Eddie weaved through it on instinct, head down, mind elsewhere.

That’s when he saw Steve.

He was coming from the opposite direction, jaw tight, brow furrowed, eyes sharp in that way Eddie had learned to recognize as don’t talk to me.

The softness he heard the night before was gone.

Steve’s gaze flicked up just long enough to register Eddie, then slid away like he hadn’t seen him at all.

Eddie felt something in his chest twist.

Doesn’t matter, he told himself again.
Didn’t mean anything.

Steve Harrington wasn’t relaxed. Steve Harrington wasn’t changed. Steve Harrington was Steve Harrington.

And Eddie absolutely, definitely didn’t care.

***

Steve was on autopilot again.

He was just so tired of everything. He had encountered Tommy in the hallway that morning and the look he gave him made his stomach turn. They had been best friends for so long and just like that, after all these years, Tommy dropped him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Steve felt like he was disposable. He felt broken in so many ways.

And it didn’t help that he felt like shit.

By lunch, the headache was back with a vengeance, pulsing behind his right eye, sharp enough that he had to squint against the cafeteria lights. The noise pressed in too close, voices blurring together into something overwhelming.

“Steve,” Chrissy said gently, sliding into the seat across from him. “You look like shit.”

He huffed a laugh. “Good to see you too.”

“I mean it,” she said, frowning. “You’ve been off all week.”

“I’m tired,” Steve said automatically.

Chrissy didn’t buy it. She never did.
“Are you still getting those migraines?”

Steve hesitated. Just long enough.

“Yes,” she said flatly. “You are.”

“They’re not that bad,” he muttered.

Chrissy leaned forward. “Have you gone to the doctor?”

Steve looked away. “No.”

“Steve.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I just… sometimes they go away.”

Chrissy’s jaw tightened. “You got punched in the head, Steve. Hard.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t pass out.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

Steve rubbed his temple, the cafeteria noise suddenly warping, like someone had turned the volume knob unevenly. Chrissy’s voice sounded slightly muffled in his left ear.

“Sorry,” he said. “What?”

Chrissy frowned. “You didn’t hear me, did you?”

“I did,” he lied. “Just, say it again, please.”

Chrissy watched him carefully before repeating herself, slower this time. “You need to see a doctor.”

Steve sighed. “I don’t have time.”

“Yes, you do,” she said. “And don’t lie to me, are you using something to deal with the pain?”

Steve hesitated again.

Chrissy’s eyes widened. “Steve.”

“It’s just weed,” he said quickly. “It helps me sleep.”

Chrissy stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly. “You are not self-medicating a head injury.”

“It’s not like that,” Steve insisted. “I’m fine.”

“You are not,” she said fiercely. “And I’m not letting this go again.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, then stopped when the room tilted just slightly.

“…Okay,” he said quietly.

Chrissy softened immediately. “We’re going tomorrow. Saturday. I’ll go with you.”

Steve grimaced. “Chrissy…”

“No,” she said. “Non-negotiable.”

He exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Saturday mornings were supposed to be quiet and calm.

Not how Steve’s morning has been. He sat in Chrissy’s car, elbow braced against the door, forehead pressed lightly to the cool glass. The sun was too bright, even through his sunglasses, and every bump in the road sent a dull throb through his skull.

“You okay?” Chrissy asked for the third time in ten minutes.

“Mhm,” Steve hummed noncommittally.

“That didn’t sound convincing.”

“I’m fine,” he said, automatic. It was muscle memory at this point. “Just tired.”

Chrissy didn’t argue. She just tightened her grip on the steering wheel and kept driving.

The Hawkins General Hospital building looked exactly like Steve remembered, low brick, faded sign, parking lot with more cracks than paint. He hadn’t been here in years. Not since his parents still pretended to be involved.

He hated hospitals, there are never happy memories involving them. There was to much anxiety on the air, to many people, to many tragedies.

The moment Chrissy parked, Steve’s stomach twisted.

“Hey,” she said gently, turning toward him. “I’ll be right there. I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. I know.”

Inside, the waiting room smelled like disinfectant and old magazines. The TV in the corner played something low and tinny, the audio warping in a way that made Steve tilt his head unconsciously.

“What?” Chrissy asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just, TV’s loud.”

She frowned but didn’t push. Yet.

They checked in, and Steve sank into a plastic chair, bouncing his knee. He rubbed at his temple, trying to ignore the faint ringing in his left ear, the way sounds seemed… off. Like someone had stuffed cotton on one side of his head.

“Steven Harrington?”

Steve stood too fast, the room swaying for a second before he caught himself.

Chrissy looked at him with a slight frown on her face.

“That’s me,” Steve then answered.

“Alright, follow me,” the nurse said heading to the hallway.

They walked into the very end of the corridor until they reached the last door to the right. The nurse that guided them knocked on the door and opened it for them.

“Doctor Anderson is waiting for you.”

The exam room was small and cold. Paper crinkled under Steve as he sat on the table, shoulders hunched, hands clasped tight in his lap.

“Hello. So,” the doctor said kindly, flipping through his chart. “It says here you’ve been having headaches.”

Steve shot Chrissy a look. Traitor.

“They’re not that bad,” he said. “They come and go throughout the day.”

“How long has this been going on?” the doctor asked.

Steve hesitated. “A couple weeks.”

“Have you received any significant blow to the head recently?”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “…Yeah.”

The doctor nodded.

“Can you tell me were did you hit your head?”

“Um, around this part,” Steve signal to the side of his head. “And a bit on the back.”

“I see. Any nausea? Dizziness?”

Steve shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yes,” Chrissy said immediately.

Steve sighed. “A little.”

“Hearing issues?” the doctor continued.

Steve blinked. “Um.”

Chrissy’s eyes flicked to him sharply.

Steve swallowed. “Uh. Maybe. Sometimes. Just one ear.”

Chrissy stared at him. “Steve, why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked away.

This was too much for him, he felt so exposed and he hated it.

The doctor set the chart down. “Steven, given the head trauma and these symptoms, I’m concerned you may have a concussion. Possibly more than a mild one.”

Steve stiffened. He already imagined it, he knew something wasn’t quite right but hearing someone say it out loud made it real.

But there it was. The thing he’d been pretending not to name. The thing he’d been carefully stepping around in his head, like if he didn’t look straight at it, it couldn’t touch him.

Concussion.

Not tired. Not stressed. Not being dramatic. Not just another thing he could push through.

It was a real thing.

His chest tightened, breath catching halfway in like his lungs had forgotten how to work properly. He stared at the doctor’s mouth as he kept talking, but the words started slipping, blurring together.

He was broken.

Steve swallowed hard.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He did everything right. He took the hits. He walked it off. He didn’t complain. He didn’t ask for help. That was the deal, get hurt, get up, keep moving.

That was how it worked.

So why did it feel like the room was tilting?

His fingers curled into the thin paper beneath him, the crinkling sound way too loud in his right ear. His heartbeat thundered against his ribs, fast and uneven, like it was trying to escape.

Broken.

The word landed heavy and awful in his chest.

You’re broken.

Steve’s breath started coming too fast.

In.

Out.

Too fast.

The walls felt closer. The air felt thick, like he was breathing through something heavy. His vision narrowed, a faint ringing rising in his ears that had nothing to do with the doctor anymore.

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, grounding himself. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t.

“Steven?” the doctor said. “Are you with me?”

Steve nodded automatically, even though he wasn’t sure he was.

Chrissy’s hand found his without warning, fingers warm and solid. She squeezed once, firm.

That helped. A little.

“I’m fine,” Steve tried, but it came out thin, shaky. He hated that. Hated that they could hear it. “I just… need a second.”

The doctor nodded, thankfully not pushing. Chrissy didn’t let go.

Steve focused on her thumb brushing slow circles against his knuckles. Counted them. One. Two. Three.

You’re not dying, he told himself.

You’re not dying. You’re just… hurt.

But the thought didn’t help, because hurt meant vulnerable, and vulnerable meant weak, and weak meant…

Useless.

What if this didn’t go away?

What if the headaches stayed?

What if the ringing got worse?

What if he couldn’t hear right anymore?

His stomach twisted violently.

Steve took a deeper breath this time, forcing it, even though his chest protested. He straightened a little, rolling his shoulders back like armor.

“Okay,” he said again, more solid now. “Okay. What do we do?”

“We’re going to need to run some tests,” the doctor continued. “We need to evaluate the level of damaged that you sustained. After that you can go home and relax. I will prescribe you some medicine for the migraines. Try to avoid activities that involve much physical activity.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Alright.”

When they stepped back outside, the sunlight felt less harsh somehow. Or maybe Steve was just tired enough not to fight it anymore.

Chrissy didn’t let go of his hand as they walked to the car.

“You should’ve told me,” she said softly.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

She scoffed. “Too late.”

Steve smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

As they drove away, Steve leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closed.

After Chrissy dropped him off at his house and left, not before her reminding him to follow the doctors orders and telling him she would be back tomorrow morning to check on him, Steve finally lay on his bed feeling just a bit better.

The pulsing sensation of his head wasn’t completely gone, he had taken the medication the doctor had given him, but the pain was still there.

Steve glanced at his nightstand where the plastic bag with weed sat.

He hesitated, a couple of nights ago he had taken so much, and his memory was a bit blurry. He just remembers trying to call Chrissy, he guess he dialed the wrong number because he remembers a male voice answering but he can’t fully remember what happened after that.

Steve told himself he’d just smoke a little.

Just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to quiet the buzz in his head that the medication hadn’t touched. He rolled onto his side, rolled a joint and lit it up.

That first drag made its way throughout his body, relaxing his muscles, muting that buzzing on his head. He rolled back into his back, staring at the ceiling while the room softened around the edges, thoughts slowing, stretching out like they didn’t need to hurry anywhere.

The quiet crept back in.

He reached for the phone without thinking, thumb hovering over the keypad. Who was he going to call? He knew Chrissy would be pissed if she found out he’d been smoking.

Without even thinking he dialed a number, his fingers moved as if they had life on its own.

The ringing echoed loudly in his ear, and he winced, pulling the receiver away for a second before pressing it back.

“Munson house.”

Steve froze.

His stomach dropped, a sharp jolt of clarity cutting through the haze.

“Oh shit,” he said immediately. “Sorry. Wrong number.”

There was a pause. Steve could hear Eddie breathing on the other end, faint but unmistakable.

“You know,” Eddie said slowly, amusement creeping in, “this is starting to feel a little personal.”

Steve frowned, irritation bubbling up before he could stop it. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird,” Eddie replied. “You’re the one calling me. Again.”

Again.

That word landed harder than it should have.

“I didn’t mean to,” Steve snapped, sharper than intended. His head throbbed in response. “I’m not… this was a mistake.”

“Okay, hey,” Eddie said, tone shifting. “Relax, man. I’m just joking.”

Steve swallowed. Silence pressed in. For a second, he considered hanging up.

Instead, he sighed.

“I’m trying to call someone else,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I figured,” Eddie said. “You don’t strike me as a let’s call the freak of the town for fun kind of guy.”

Steve huffed despite himself.

Another pause.

“But for what it’s worth? You don’t sound great.”

Steve closed his eyes. The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“My head’s kinda messed up.”

There it was. Hanging in the space between them.

Eddie didn’t jump on it. He actually stayed silent for so long that Steve thought he had hang up.

That’ what he is supposed to do right now, so why did that thought sting?

What the fuck is he doing?

But Eddie was still there.

“That sucks,” he finally said simply. “You hurt?”

Steve shifted on the bed, staring at the wall. He hadn’t meant to say that much. He hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s stupid.”

“Concussions aren’t stupid,” Eddie said. “Annoying as hell, but not stupid.”

Steve blinked. “You know about that?”

Eddie snorted. “I climb tables and play in a band at a bar, Harrington. I’ve hit my head more times than I can count.”

Steve almost smiled.

Almost.

The thought unsettled him.

“Well,” Steve said, voice turning defensive again, “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“No,” Eddie agreed easily. “Probably not.”

That stung. Steve wasn’t sure why.

“But,” Eddie added, “you did. So… guess we’re here.”

Steve’s chest felt weird.

And now his head was spinning, this was too much. He didn’t know what was happening but he needed to end this now.

“It’s just the weed,” he said abruptly, more to himself than Eddie. “That’s why I’m talking.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “Weed seems to do that to you. You are having a conversation with me again.”

Again. That fucking word. He doesn’t remember a thing about that last conversation they apparently had have.  

Steve bristled. “Do what?”

“Turn you into being… normal. Wait, you don’t remember about… the other night?” Eddie said carefully.

Steve scoffed. “I’m always normal.”

“Sure, you are,” Eddie replied.

Steve could practically hear him smiling.

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

Steve rolled his eyes and took a deep drag to his joint.

“No. I don’t remember.”

Steve heard Eddie mutter a soft ‘oh’ and then the silence returned, thicker this time. Steve’s thoughts started to tangle, and that familiar panic flickered at the edges.

This was a mistake.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

He shouldn’t be talking like this.

“I gotta go,” Steve said suddenly. “This was, yeah. Just a mistake.”

“Steve…” Eddie started.

“I shouldn’t have called,” Steve cut in, harsher now, walls slamming back into place. “Forget it.”

He hung up.

The dial tone rang loud in his ear, and he flinched, setting the receiver down too quickly.

Steve lay back, staring at the ceiling, heart beating too fast for no reason he wanted to name.

Why had he stayed on the line that long?

Why had it felt… easy?

He turned onto his side, burying his face in the pillow.

It was the weed, he told himself firmly.

Nothing else.

Eventually, sleep dragged him under, uneasy and heavy, Eddie Munson’s voice lingering in the back of his mind in a way Steve very deliberately refused to examine.

Chapter Text

Apparently, after being called twice in one week by Steve Harrington, Eddie had to continue his life as normally as possible.

And it was obviously a very easy task.

He was definitely not going crazy.

Because yeah, Eddie was holding just fine. Everything was peachy.

That night, after Steve hung up, Eddie stayed glued to the phone, staring at it as if Steve was going to change his mind and call him again.

It was a stupid thought that had imprinted itself in his brain, because what were the chances?

The Steve Harrington had called him twice.

Twice.

Yeah, Steve had been out of his mind, literally, both times and apparently, he didn’t even remembered about the first time, but Eddie had received the calls. He had talked to him; he had maintained a somewhat civil conversation with him.

But, then again, Steve was high.

Eddie knew that he would certainly not remember this once again.

And that, that little detail hurt like a bitch.

But it was Eddie’s fault. Everything was his fault. Why’d he had to crush over none other than Steve? Why had it had to be him? Eddie was asking to end up being hurt.

Why was it so fucking hard to just forget it? He knew it was impossible. He knew from the moment his eyes landed on the guy. And he still held to that tiny little spark of imaginary hope.

And he felt even more stupid for thinking he had a chance when Steve lost his friends. What was he thinking?

He might have been kicked out of the group, but he was still the same person, he didn’t change from one second to another.

Steve was still the same asshole whether he was alone or not.

That was hard for Eddie to accept.

Eddie came back to reality when he felt hot tears streaming down his face. He hung the phone back harder than he intended and angrily wiped his face.

It didn’t matter; he tried to remind himself.

It didn’t fucking matter.

He went outside, the cold air hit his face, grounding him. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

Eddie stood there for a while, lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts. He didn’t even notice when Wayne’s truck pulled up.

"Are you okay, son?" he heard his uncle ask.

He didn’t respond. He just looked at them, and his eyes filled with tears once again.

Eddie knew that Wayne would never judge him for crying in front of him; he had done it countless times in the past.

But now? He felt so vulnerable, the reason for his tears was not something he wanted to share.

Still, Wayne came up to him and wrapped him in his arms, and Eddie couldn’t help sobbing in his embrace.
"Let’s go inside," Wayne whispered, guiding him to the living room.

Wayne sat him down on the couch and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. And Eddie felt even more terrible, he knew his uncle was exhausted after his shift and yet, he was here taking care of him just because he was crying over a guy that he absolutely fucking knew he could never get.

Eddie felt so pathetic.

He didn’t even know why he was so affected by this, it felt so insignificant but too much at the same time.

“I am sorry, I don’t know what happened there,” Eddie said as soon as Wayne returned with two mugs in hand. “You should get some rest.”

Wayne took a seat alongside him and turned the tv on.

“What have I told you about apologizing for crying?” Wayne said not even looking at him.

And Eddie knew what he was doing, he was giving him space but giving him company at the same time.

Eddie was never afraid of showing emotions but talking about them? That was the hard part, and Wayne knew that, so he always kept him company after he calmed down. He never once asked questions; he just waited and listened.  

After a moment of silence, Eddie had managed to calm down a bit.

“Everything is too much lately,” he murmured absently.

Wayne hummed in response and posed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. That gesture alone made Eddie feel so much better.

“You got this Eds. If there’s something you had taught me is that you never give up,” Wayne ruffle his hair.

And that made Eddie smile. God, he loves his uncle so much.

“Thank you.”

Wayne offered him a small smile and then resumed to watch whatever was playing on the tv.

Wayne’s words lingered with Eddie long after they’d both gone quiet again.

Sunday came whether Eddie was ready for it or not.

He woke up late, his head pounding dull from the emotional hangover of the night before. His eyes felt raw, his chest tight in that familiar, irritating way that meant he’d cried harder than he wanted to admit.

He rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling, and let the disappointment settle where it apparently lived now.

By noon, Robin had dragged him out of the trailer with promises of fries, milkshakes, and “not rotting in your bedroom like a bed bug.” Her exact words.

They ended up at Starcourt, because of course they did. There were only so many places to go in Hawkins on a Sunday, and the mall was the closest thing they had to an escape.

Robin talked. A lot. About a movie she wanted to see. About band gossip Eddie only half-followed. About how she was pretty sure she could shoplift a cassette tape without getting caught if she really wanted to.

Eddie nodded at the right places, laughed when prompted, let the noise of the mall wash over him.

He did not tell her about the call. He was trying to forget it even happened, again.

They were passing the food court when Robin slowed suddenly.

“Oh no,” she muttered.

Eddie followed her gaze.

Fuck my life, he murmured.

Because Steve fucking Harrington was there. Of course he had to be here.

He was standing near the counters with Chrissy, holding a soda in one hand as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. He looked… tired. Paler than usual. He was wearing sunglasses on indoors, which was new, and he had a prominent frown on his face.

Chrissy spotted them first.

“Hey!” she said brightly, lifting her hand in a small wave as she approached. “Hi, Eddie. Robin, right?”

Robin was the first to react after being caught off ward by the greeting. “Uh. Yeah. Hi.”

Steve stiffened beside her. Actually stiffened.

Eddie was sure he did the same thing.

Steve’s jaw tightened, shoulders pulling up like he was bracing for something. He didn’t look at Eddie, not even a glance, just stared very intently at a spot over Robin’s shoulder.

Eddie looked away, then remembering he hadn’t said anything, he tried to form a smile and glance at Chrissy.

“Hey, Chrissy,” he said softly.

Then he took a quick breath and glanced at Steve nodding at him, “Hey, man.”

Steve seemed to be caught of ward by him acknowledge him and muttered something that might’ve been a greeting if you were generous.

Eddie felt something twist unpleasantly in his chest.

Did Steve remember the call?

Does he actually remembers, and this is… this is what he does with it?

Or maybe that’s just the effect he has on him.

Chrissy chatted easily, asked Robin about school, about band stuff, about Hellfire like it wasn’t a big deal. Eddie answered when spoken to, polite, measured, careful not to look at Steve too long.

Not that Steve was looking back. He actually looked distant, he didn’t talk at all.

“Anyway,” Chrissy said after a moment, glancing between them. “We should probably get going. But it was nice seeing you guys.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “You too.”

Steve nodded stiffly and turned away immediately, already walking off before Chrissy finished her goodbye.

Eddie watched him go, chest hollow.

Well. That settles that.

As soon as they were out of sight, Robin frowned.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “That was weird. Why is Chrissy saying hi to us? And Steve was so… weird?”

Eddie shrugged, forcing casual into his voice. “He’s always weird.”

“Not like that,” Robin said. “He looked like he was avoiding eye contact on purpose. Like, Olympic-level avoidance.”

Eddie swallowed. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me.”

Robin shot him a look. “Please, we’d talk about this. If Steve actively disliked you, you’d know. He’d be loud about it. Do you think it has something to do with the call?”

Eddie didn’t answer for a moment.

“I told you he was high, he probably doesn’t remember,” he then said carefully.

Robin hummed thoughtfully. “Also, Chrissy being that friendly? New development. I didn’t even though she knew my name.” She changed the topic.

Eddie forced a laugh. “Guess she’s branching out.”

But the feeling stuck with him the rest of the afternoon.

That look on Steve’s face. Closed off. Angry. He was still on that “King” Steve persona.

Like Eddie had imagined it.

Chapter Text

A couple of weeks passed in a blur.

Finals week descended on Hawkins High like a low-grade fever, everyone on edge, sleep-deprived, snapping at each other in the halls. Eddie barely noticed the days ticking by; his brain was too busy juggling dates, formulas, and the constant, gnawing fear that something would go wrong at the last second.

But somehow, miraculously, he was still standing.

Two exams left. Just two more, and he was done. Done with Hawkins High. Done with being that guy who never quite made it across the finish line.

This time felt different.

He felt ready. This was going to be his year.

Eddie was sitting at the usual table in the cafeteria, a half-eaten muffin in front of him, tapping a pencil against his notebook while Gareth talked animatedly across from him.

“So,” Gareth said, grinning, “when you walk across that stage, do we throw a party or, like, a full-blown ritual sacrifice?”

“I like the idea of a sacrifice,” Eddie said immediately, grinning. “But make it symbolic. A lot of blood this time.”

Jeff snorted. “I give it three days before you’re back here anyway.”

“Hey,” Eddie pointed at him. “Negativity is banned. I am graduating. I can feel it in my bones.”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “You said that last year.”

Eddie waved him off. “Different bones.”

They laughed, the sound easing something tight in Eddie’s chest. He hadn’t realized how badly he was going to miss this. The only thing he was going to miss from school.

“So, what happens to Hellfire when you’re gone?” Gareth asked. “We just… disband?”

Eddie leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Absolutely not. Hellfire is eternal.”

“Yeah, but you’re the Dungeon Master,” Jeff pointed out. “You leaving kind of creates a power vacuum.”

Eddie hummed thoughtfully. “I have been thinking about that.”

Frank perked up. “You serious?”

“Deadly,” Eddie said. “Can’t just abandon the realm. That’d be bad DM etiquette.”

Gareth smirked. “So, who gets the crown?”

“I am still thinking about that, we still need to finish our last campaign,” Eddie smirked.

Everyone groaned and that made Eddie chuckle.

“Do you think there will be new members?” Frank asked after a minute of silence.

Before Eddie could answer, Jeff shrugged. “There’s that kid. Curly hair. Always hanging around after school asking questions about dice.”

“Dustin,” Gareth said. “Dustin Henderson. Little dude’s intense.”

Eddie blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gareth continued. “Him and his friends. They’re into D&D. Like, really into it.”

Eddie felt a spark of interest despite himself. “Huh. Why haven’t I heard of them?”

Gareth shrugged, “They might be scared of you,” he joked.

Eddie scuffed and stuck his tongue out.

Gareth made a face and everyone laughed again.

God, Eddie was really going to miss this.

“Could be promising,” Frank added. “We could train the next generation.”

Eddie smiled at that. “Passing the torch.”

The bell rang, sharp and unforgiving.

“Showtime,” Eddie muttered, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Math exam. If I survive this, I’m officially unstoppable.”

“Go kick algebra’s ass,” Gareth called after him.

Eddie flipped them off fondly and headed for class.

The room was already mostly full when he walked in, the low hum of nervous energy buzzing through the air. He took his usual seat, dropped into it, and pulled out his pencil.

Then he noticed the empty desk in the front row.

Steve Harrington wasn’t there.

Eddie frowned, just slightly.

Steve always showed up to this class. Late sometimes. But he showed, specially when they had an exam and this one was a very important one.

Eddie shook it off. Not his problem. He had bigger things to worry about right now.

He had been doing very good at not thinking about Steve for the last couple of weeks, he had better keep it that way.

The exam was brutal, but not impossible. Eddie worked his way through it slowly, methodically, heart pounding but hands steady. When he finally set his pencil down, he felt good about it.

Not perfect. But, good enough.

Good enough to pass.

And that’s all it mattered to Eddie right now.

When the bell rang, Eddie turned in his paper and stepped into the hallway, lungs filling with air like he’d been underwater and finally surfaced.

He made it about ten steps before ducking into the nearest bathroom, needing a minute to collect himself.

As soon as he entered, he heard a noise, he couldn’t quite place what it was. He looked around and that’s when he spotted a pair of legs peeking from the bottom of the last stall.

Then he heard it again, a low, miserable groan.

Eddie froze.

“Hello?” he called cautiously.

No answer. Just the sound of retching. He saw as the person moved a bit, as if trying to get up but then came back to the same position.

Eddie approached slowly and stopped short when he recognized that back, the familiar brown hair, bent over the toilet, one hand braced against the porcelain.

Steve.

And he looked awful.

Pale. Sweaty. Shoulders shaking as another wave hit him.

Eddie hesitated.

Then sighed, already doomed.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Harrington?”

Nothing.

Eddie stepped closer but then thought about it and stepped back, Steve didn’t seemed to have notice him yet.

He stood there for a couple of seconds, was he really doing this? Eddie was seriously contemplating just leaving, Steve usually never wanted anything to do with him anyways.

But then Steve started shaking again, more violent this time, without thinking about it this time Eddie reached and touched his shoulder.

Steve reacted instantly jerking back with a sharp gasp, shoving Eddie away hard enough that he stumbled.

“Don’t!” Steve snapped, wild-eyed and disoriented.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie said quickly, holding his hands up. “It’s just me. I’m trying to help you.”

Was he? Eddie spoke before thinking apparently.

Steve blinked, focus slowly snapping into place. His expression hardened.

“What do you want?” he muttered, voice rough.

Eddie looked at him confused, but maybe Steve just didn’t heard him correctly, then again, the guy was wrecked.

“I am trying to help you,” he repeated. “You’re clearly not okay,” Eddie continued, ignoring the bite in his tone. “And before you tell me to piss off, too late. I’m not accepting that this time.”

Steve scoffed weakly, trying to stand and failing. Eddie caught him by the arm before he could hit the floor.

They stayed frozen for a second, Eddie realizing he was touching Steve, but he quickly shook that thought, Steve was actively in pain, this wasn’t the time for his nonsense.

“Jesus, Harrington,” Eddie muttered. “You’re gonna pass out in a bathroom stall.”

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, even as he sagged slightly into Eddie’s grip.

Keep it cool, Eddie had to repeat on his head.

“Sure, you are,” Eddie said. “Come on.”

Steve protested halfheartedly as Eddie hauled him up and steered him toward the door.

“To the nurse office,” Eddie said firmly. “Let’s go.”

Steve seemed to finally comply; he didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore apparently.

They slowly made their way outside to the hallway, and as soon as the harsh lightning hit Steve, Eddie saw him squint and tried to cover his eyes.

Eddie opened his mouth to ask Steve what the hell was going on with him but then stopped himself, he shouldn’t get more involved than he already was.

And Steve wasn’t going to tell him anyways.

He pressed his lips together and adjusted his grip instead, sliding Steve’s arm more securely over his shoulder. Steve was heavier than he looked when he wasn’t holding himself up properly, all dead weight and unsteady steps.

“Easy,” Eddie murmured despite himself. “We’re almost there.”

Steve didn’t answer. He kept his head bowed, one hand clutching at Eddie’s jacket like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His breathing was shallow, uneven.

Every few steps, he faltered.

Eddie slowed automatically, matching his pace. He hated how natural it felt, how his body just… knew what to do. Like this was a thing he’d done before. Like taking care of Steve Harrington made any kind of sense.

Nope, not going there, he shook his head.

The nurse’s office door felt a mile away.

They turn a corner and Eddie’s breath hitch, a couple of students stared as they passed, whispers following them like gnats.

Eddie shot them a look sharp enough to shut them up.

“Eyes forward,” he muttered. “He’s not a zoo exhibit.”

Steve huffed something that might’ve been a laugh or might’ve just been air escaping his lungs.

When Eddie finally knocked and pushed the door open, the nurse looked up sharply from her desk.

“What happened?” she asked, already standing.

“I found him in the bathroom,” Eddie explained quickly. “I think he was throwing up. He’s dizzy. Almost went down.”

Steve groaned softly. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

The nurse shot him a look. “Sit. Now.”

Steve didn’t argue. He barely made it onto the exam table before slumping forward again, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

The nurse turned to Eddie. “You can wait outside.”

Eddie hesitated.

Steve didn’t look up.

For half a second, Eddie considered pushing back. Staying anyway.

Instead, he nodded. His job was done anyways.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.

The silence hit him like a punch.

Eddie leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight over his chest, staring at the ugly beige tiles like they might offer answers. His heart was still beating too fast, adrenaline refusing to settle.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He told himself he didn’t care. He’d told himself that for weeks. And it had almost worked.

Almost.

But seeing Steve like that, vulnerable, it cracked something open that Eddie had been trying real hard to keep shut.

You’re not getting involved, he reminded himself.

This is not your mess.

So why did his foot keep tapping? Why hasn't he left?

After a few minutes, the door opened again. The nurse stepped out, clipboard tucked under her arm.

“Is he okey?” Eddie asked faster than he intended.

“He’s fine now,” she said. “But I told him I was calling his parents, and he said they weren’t available.”

Eddie winced.

“Are you his friend?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Eddie muttered.

She frowned at him, she studied him for a moment, then sighed. “He can’t drive in his state, he will need someone to take him home.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “I… I will see what I can do. Can I talk to him?” Oh, Eddie was going to regret this.

“Sure,” she muttered. “I’m going to the office to report it, see if his parents answer.”

Eddie nodded again, automatic.

But he didn’t move.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Young man?”

“Sorry, I will talk to him now,” Eddie said quickly. “Yeah. I’m going in.”

She gave him a look that said don’t make this weird, then head out.

Eddie took a deep breath and went inside.

He saw Steve laying down, his hand covering his eyes.

“Hey, man,” Eddie called nervously.

But once again, Steve didn’t reacted. Was he asleep? Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Steve almost always had trouble listening to him.

“Harrington,” he called a bit louder this time.

Steve turned to him, his hand was still blocking the light and he squinted at him.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

Well, this was going great. He was now actually regretting doing this.

“Hey man, I am just trying to help,” Eddie said annoyed. “The nurse said you can’t drive like this. Is Chrissy here? I can go get her,” Eddie shifted his weight, suddenly very aware of how small the room felt with Steve in it.

Steve swallowed, then let his hand fall away from his eyes just enough to look at him. His gaze was unfocused.

“She’s… she’s still here,” Steve said slowly, like the words had to be assembled one by one. “But she has cheerleading practice later.”

Something in Eddie’s chest tightened.

“Oh,” he said. “Right.”

That should’ve been it. That was the out. Chrissy was here. Chrissy could take him home. Eddie had done more than enough already. He’d walked him here; made sure he didn’t crack his skull open on a bathroom floor. That was charity. That was kindness.

And that was done.

He nodded once, already half-turned toward the door. “Alright then.”

His hand even twitched toward the doorknob.

Not your problem, he told himself.

Steve Harrington had made that pretty damn clear. The eye-rolls. The snapping. The way he shut Eddie out every time Eddie got a little too close. Eddie had tried, God, he’d tried, to be decent, to be neutral, to be nice. And Steve had never once met him halfway.

So why did it feel like he was abandoning something fragile?

Eddie exhaled sharply and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Shit,” he muttered.

Steve blinked at him. “What?”

Eddie turned back around. “You know what? Forget it.” He crossed his arms, jaw tight. “I’m off anyway. I can take you.”

Steve stiffened immediately.

“No, you don’t have to,” he said, too fast. “I can just, I can wait for Chrissy.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “I heard you.”

There was a beat. Steve frowned, studying him in a way that made Eddie feel uncomfortably seen.

“Why,” Steve asked quietly, “are you being so fixated on helping me?”

The word hit harder than Eddie expected.

Fixated.

Like Eddie was the weird one here. Like this was some obsessive thing instead of basic human decency.

Eddie opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because what the hell was he supposed to say? Because you look like you’re about to fall apart and I don’t know how to ignore that. Because I can’t stop caring even when you make it hard. Because some stupid, traitorous part of me still hopes one day you won’t flinch when I get close.

Instead, he scoffed weakly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington.”

Steve didn’t smile.

Eddie shifted again, restless. “Look. I’m not asking you to spill your guts or sing my praises. I’m just offering a ride. You look like hell, and I’d rather not read about you face-planting into the parking lot in tomorrow’s announcements.”

Steve hesitated. You could see it, him weighing it, turning it over in his head. For a second, Eddie thought he might actually say yes.

That maybe this time would be different.

Then Steve looked away.

“I can wait for Chrissy,” he said again.

And that seemed to be his final answer.

Eddie felt something sink. A quiet, dull drop in his chest, like he’d expected this all along and still somehow hoped better.

That stupid, fucking hope that was still engraved on his head.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”

He didn’t trust himself to say anything else.

Eddie turned and walked out before he could change his mind again, before the urge to stay got any louder. The door shut behind him with a soft click that felt way too permanent.

The hallway swallowed him up.

As he headed for the exit, Eddie told himself he’d done the right thing. That you couldn’t force people to let you help them. That Steve Harrington had chosen Chrissy, chosen waiting, chosen not him.

Still, his chest ached in that stupid, familiar way.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just walked away from something that mattered more than he wanted to admit.

Chapter Text

Steve watched the door close behind Eddie.

The sound louder than it had any right to be. It echoed in the small room, sharp, and Steve flinched like it had been slammed instead of gently pulled shut.

For a split second, he thought about calling out.
Eddie’s name hovered on the tip of his tongue, heavy and unfamiliar, like a word in a language he didn’t quite speak. He didn’t know what he would’ve said.

Wait. I’m sorry. Don’t go, maybe all of it at once. Maybe none of it.

The moment stretched, then snapped, and suddenly it was too late.

Something twisted in his chest, tight and uncomfortable, and Steve pressed his lips together, frowning. He didn’t know what that feeling was supposed to be. He just knew he didn’t like it. He shifted on the cot, the paper crinkling beneath him, and told himself it didn’t matter.

He didn’t want Eddie here. He didn’t want him around at all.

Still, his eyes stayed fixed on the door long after it had closed, like he was half-expecting it to open again.

For a moment nothing happened, he stayed still hoping something would happen. His headache pushed to the back of his mind.

And then, the door opened again.

Steve tried to sit up too fast.

Pain detonated behind his eyes, white and blinding, and Steve sucked in a sharp breath as his vision swam. The room tilted, the edges of it warping, and he had to grab at the thin mattress to keep himself grounded. His stomach lurched, throat tightening, and he squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching hard.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough.

When he looked up again, spots still dancing in his vision, he realized who had come in.

It was the nurse.

She froze when she saw him half-upright, already moving toward him. “Steven, no, lie back down,” she said firmly, guiding him back before his knees could buckle.

Steve let himself be pushed back, breathing shallow, one hand pressed against his temple like he could physically hold his skull together. Everything felt wrong, too loud, too bright, too much.

As the nurse adjusted the lights and started talking again, Steve’s gaze drifted back to the door anyway.

Stupid.

He swallowed hard and turned his face toward the wall, telling himself, again, that it was better this way.

That Eddie leaving shouldn’t feel like this.

That’s what he wanted, right? He told Eddie to leave.

“Steven?” the nurse said loudly.

Steve’s head snapped back at her; she was looking at him with a concern look. Steve hated that look.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was asking you if you know why are you feeling like this?” she said softly.

“Um. Well, I had a concussion,” the words felt heavy on his tongue, they even tasted wrong. “I thought I was better this morning, forgot to take my medication.”

The nurse nodded slowly, like she was piecing him together in her head. “That would explain it,” she said. “Concussions don’t just disappear because you want them to. Skipping your meds, bright lights, stress, it all adds up.”

Steve huffed a weak, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Guess I’m learning that the hard way.”

She adjusted the pillow under his head, movements careful and practiced. “You’ve been pushing yourself,” she said. “Your body’s telling you to stop, Steven. You need to listen to it.”

He stared at the ceiling tiles, the little cracks and stains blurring together. Stop. He didn’t really know how to do that. Stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant…

His chest tightened again, sharp and sudden.

Eddie’s face flashed in his mind, the way his shoulders had slumped just a little before he turned away. Steve swallowed, throat burning.

He then pushed that thought far down.

“I’m not good at… not pushing,” he admitted quietly.

The nurse hummed, like that wasn’t news. “Most people your age aren’t.” She hesitated. “Do you have someone who can take you home? I thought that guy who brought you would take you.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. Did Eddie tell her that? Was he really planning on helping him?

“I can wait,” he said, more to himself than to her. “My friend’s still at school.”

The nurse studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But you’re staying right here until you’re steady. No more trying to sit up on your own.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He didn’t trust himself to argue.

She handed him a small paper cup with pills and a glass of water. “Take these. Slow sips.”

He obeyed, hands trembling just slightly as he swallowed them down. When she left again, the room fell quiet, the kind of quiet that pressed in on him.

Steve turned his head back toward the door before he could stop himself.

He told himself he wasn’t waiting for anything.

Not for Eddie.

Why was he still on his mind?

Why couldn’t he just fucking forget it?

Steve was starting to feel frustrated with himself. He didn’t understand what was happening, and he didn’t like that.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers digging into the thin sheet beneath him like it might anchor him. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, each pulse a sharp reminder that he was not in control of his own body right now, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Eddie Munson had no right to still be there. In his head, in his chest, in the stupid quiet of the nurse’s office.

Steve dragged in a slow breath through his nose, then let it out through his mouth, the way the doctor had told him to. It didn’t help much. His thoughts kept circling back, annoying and persistent.

Why did he care?

That was the worst part. Not the pain, not the dizziness, not even the humiliation of ending up flat on a cot like this. It was the fact that Eddie leaving had felt like something being taken from him, something he hadn’t known he’d been holding onto.

He’d told him to go. He’d been cold, dismissive, sharp in that way he perfected over the years. The way that usually made people back off. The way that usually worked.

Except Eddie hadn’t snapped back. He hadn’t thrown an insult like Steve half-expected. He’d just… sighed. Like he was tired. Like Steve had finally confirmed something Eddie already believed.

The thought made Steve’s stomach twist.

“Idiot,” he muttered, barely audible, though he wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Eddie, for not leaving him alone. Himself, for noticing.

He rolled his head to the side, staring at the wall, jaw tight. Chrissy would be here later. Chrissy always showed up. She didn’t look at him like she was trying to figure him out while pretending not to care.

Eddie did.

Steve hated that. Hated how exposed it made him feel, especially now, when everything already felt too raw.

The frustration built until it had nowhere to go, settling heavy in his chest. He wanted to sleep. He wanted this to stop.

The door stayed closed.

And Steve lay there, listening to his own breathing, trying to convince himself that the tight, restless ache under his ribs was just another symptom of the concussion.

Nothing more.

Steve must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he knew, he was jolting awake at the sound of the door opening abruptly.

His eyes flew open, heart jumping into his throat, and for a disorienting second, he had no idea where he was. He winced, hand flying up to shield his eyes from the sudden light spilling into the room.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

His pulse was racing, the aftershock of sleep still clinging to him, thoughts slow and tangled. He blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings, trying to push the fog away.

He shifted slightly, the paper beneath him crinkling, and turned his head toward the doorway, squinting. His gaze stayed locked on the open door, waiting to see who had walked in.

It was Chrissy.

She hurried in, ponytail slightly crooked, worry written all over her face the second she spotted him on the cot. “Steve, oh my god,” she said, already crossing the room. “Are you okay? The nurse said you…”

“I’m fine,” Steve cut in automatically, pushing himself up on his elbows despite the immediate spike of pain. He swallowed it down, at least it wasn’t as bad as before. “I’m fine, really.”

Chrissy didn’t look convinced. She hovered at his side, eyes scanning him like she could spot the damage just by looking hard enough. “You don’t look fine.”

Steve forced a crooked smile. “I’ve looked worse.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly not buying it, but before she could argue, the nurse stepped back into the room.

“Alright,” she said briskly, glancing between them. “He’s better now it seems. The medication’s kicked in, and as long as you take him straight home and he rests, he should be okay. And you need to take your meds, Steven.”

“I will,” Steve promised, nodding a little too fast. He slowed himself down when the room tilted. “I swear.”

Chrissy thanked the nurse about three times, slinging Steve’s jacket over her arm before carefully helping him off the cot. Steve leaned into her more than he meant to, pride stinging faintly, but his legs still felt like they were made of rubber.

They made it out to the car in silence.

The drive home was quiet at first, the kind that pressed against Steve’s ears. Chrissy kept glancing at him from the driver’s seat, like she expected him to disappear if she didn’t keep checking.

“So,” she said eventually, gentle. “The nurse mentioned someone brought you in.”

Steve stared out the window, watching the school fade into the distance. His jaw tightened.

“…Yeah.”

Chrissy waited.

“He found me,” Steve said finally, the words coming out flatter than he intended. “Eddie.”

Chrissy’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I was in the bathroom,” Steve went on, irritation creeping into his voice, like armor snapping into place. “He just, showed up. Made a big deal out of nothing. Dragged me to the nurse like I couldn’t handle it myself.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Chrissy said carefully.

Steve scoffed. “Please. He probably just wanted an excuse to…” He stopped, the sentence dissolving before he could finish it. He didn’t even know what he was accusing Eddie of. Existing, maybe.

Chrissy glanced at him again, longer this time. “You sound upset.”

“I’m not,” Steve said quickly. Too quickly. “I just don’t like him. You know that. He’s… like that.”

Like that. Freak. The word sat heavy in his throat even though he didn’t say it out loud.

Chrissy hummed softly, unconvinced. “You don’t usually talk this much about people you don’t like. And it’s not the first time we had talk about him.”

Steve’s fingers curled into the fabric of his jeans. He could still feel Eddie’s grip on his arm, steady and firm. The way he’d stayed. The way he’d left.

“He is everywhere lately. He is like my fucking shadow,” Steve took a deep breath, he had to calm down. “He didn’t have to help,” Steve muttered. “I didn’t ask him to.”

“But he did,” Chrissy said.

Steve swallowed. The headache pulsed, slow and insistent, like it was syncing up with his thoughts. “Yeah. Well. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Chrissy didn’t push, but there was something knowing in her silence, something that made Steve shift uncomfortably in his seat.

After a moment, she spoke again, softer. “You don’t hate him.”

Steve turned to her sharply. “What?”

“I didn’t say you liked him,” she added quickly. “I just… you get this look when you talk about him. Like you’re arguing with yourself.”

Steve opened his mouth to deny it, to snap something defensive and sharp, but nothing came out.

He looked back out the window instead, jaw clenched, pulse pounding.

“I just want this year to be over,” he said finally, voice low. “I’m tired.”

Chrissy reached over at the next red light, resting her hand over his for a second. “I know.”

Steve let his eyes close briefly, exhaustion washing over him.

Still, unbidden, Eddie’s face crept back into his thoughts.

And it frustrated him with how difficult it was for him to shove that image.

What the fuck was wrong with him.

***

Eddie’s trailer smelled like burnt popcorn and cheap beer, the kind of comfortable mess that meant he was home.

Robin was sprawled across the couch, boots kicked off, one socked foot hooked over the armrest while the other bounced in time with the movie’s soundtrack. Some late-night horror flick flickered on the TV, lots of fog, lots of screaming, very little plot. Eddie had seen it before. Twice, maybe three times.

He wasn’t really watching it now.

He sat on the floor with his back against the couch, knees pulled up, fingers worrying the frayed edge of his sleeve. He laughed at the right moments, threw in a sarcastic comment when a character made a stupid choice, but it all felt a little delayed. Like he was half a second behind himself.

Robin glanced down at him. “You good? You’ve been awfully quiet. And that’s saying something.”

“Just appreciating the cinematic masterpiece,” Eddie said, waving vaguely at the screen. “Real art. Really speaks to the soul.”

She snorted. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

The movie droned on. Eddie tried to focus. Tried not to replay the image of Steve Harrington, pale and shaking, retching over a toilet. Tried not to remember the weight of Steve’s arm in his hands, the way he’d felt solid and fragile all at once. Tried not to think about the look on Steve’s face when Eddie finally walked away.

Tried being the key word.

“You keep zoning out,” Robin said. “You wanna talk about it, or should I keep pretending this movie is good?”

Eddie huffed a laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m fine.”

Robin gave him a look. The kind that said she absolutely did not believe him but would let it go, for now.

“Cool,” she said lightly. “Just checking. Because you’ve been weird since this afternoon.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “Define weird.”

“Less unhinged,” she said. “Which is concerning.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m branching out.”

They fell into a more comfortable silence after that, the movie finally reaching its dramatic climax. Eddie let his head fall back against the couch, eyes half-lidded, exhaustion settling into his bones now that the day was catching up with him.

Steve was fine, he told himself. Chrissy had him. Who he wanted to be with. And Eddie had done his part. More than his part, honestly.

So why did his chest still feel tight?

And then, the phone rang.

The sharp, sudden sound cut through the trailer, loud and insistent, and Eddie jolted like he’d been shocked.

No.
No, no, no.

His heart dropped straight into his stomach.

The phone kept ringing.

Robin muted the TV, turning to look at him fully now. “Dude?”

Eddie didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the phone mounted to the wall, the cord stretching down like a lifeline he absolutely did not want to grab.

The third ring echoed, impossibly loud.

Robin’s brows knit together. “Eddie…?”

He swallowed hard. His mouth had gone dry, palms suddenly slick with sweat. He knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew.

“Don’t,” Eddie said, voice tight, when Robin started to shift like she might get up. “Just, let it ring.”

The phone rang again.

Robin studied his face, really looked at him, and whatever she saw there wiped the teasing right off her expression. “Who is it?” she asked gently.

Eddie shook his head once, sharp.

Another ring.

His pulse was pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else. All he could think about was Steve’s voice, rough, strained, saying his name like it was an accident and a mistake all at once.

Robin stood slowly, crossing the small space between them. She didn’t touch him, just hovered close, solid and grounding. “Eddie,” she said softly. “You’re shaking.”

He laughed weakly, the sound brittle. “Yeah. Funny how that happens.”

The phone kept ringing.

Eddie dragged in a breath, chest aching, and stared at the receiver like it might bite him.

Robin glanced one more time between Eddie and the phone, and before Eddie could react, she reached and took the phone.

“Hello?” she answered.

Chapter Text

Eddie’s heart stopped.

And this time it was literally. He actually felt it pause. Like his body had skipped a step it was supposed to know by instinct.

“Robin…” he started, too late.

She already had the receiver pressed to her ear, head tilted, expression neutral but alert. Eddie scrambled to his feet, panic buzzing under his skin, hands hovering uselessly at his sides like he might snatch the phone back or bolt for the door.

At the end he did neither.

“Hello?” Robin repeated.

There was a beat of silence, and Eddie felt himself holding his breath. He prayed internally for whoever was at the other end (he knew who it was) to hung just up.

But then, Eddie could hear faint murmur of the person’s voice through the line, distorted by the cheap speaker. His stomach twisted.

Robin’s brow furrowed. “Uh. Hey?”

Eddie shook his head, mouthing don’t, but Robin wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her gaze had gone distant, focused.

“…Yeah,” she said slowly. “He’s here.”

Eddie’s chest constricted so hard it hurt.

He was actively in pain right now. He felt his body so tense and his head was spinning.

Robin’s eyes flicked to him then, something unreadable passing over her face. “Hold on,” she added into the receiver, then covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s Steve?” She said, Eddie could now read all the questions on her face.

Of course it was fucking Steve.

Eddie laughed once, sharp and breathless, like his body didn’t know what else to do. “Great,” he murmured. “Awesome. Love that for me.”

“He sounds… not great,” Robin said quietly. “Like, really not great.”

That cut through the noise in Eddie’s head.

She uncovered the receiver. “Steve? Hey. You still there?”

A muffled sound came through. A sniff. Then, faintly, “Yeah.”

Eddie closed his eyes.

Robin turned slightly, angling away from him, voice softening in a way Eddie had only heard when she was dealing with scared kids at Family Video. “Okay. You’re okay. You called Eddie’s place. Did you mean to do that?”

Another pause. Longer this time. It gave Eddie enough time to collect himself and position himself alongside Robin for him to be able to hear Steve.

“…I don’t know,” Steve finally said. His voice was rough, hoarse, like he’d been crying or throwing up or both.

Eddie got a bit worried about that. After all these hours, was Steve still going through it?

“I just my head’s killing me. And it’s quiet. Too quiet,” he continued.

Now that Eddie could hear him better, he recognized the way he was speaking, yes, he sounded terrible and that was most likely because of whatever it was going on with him at the bathroom earlier, but he could hear him slurring his words.

Eddie turn to Robin, “He’s high,” he mouthed.  

Robin winced sympathetically.

And then, Steve’s words sink in and Eddie opened his eyes. His head. He had had a concussion, he had told him that, or rather mentioned it. He hadn’t imagined it, then. This wasn’t just a bad day.

“You’re not supposed to be alone, you know,” Robin continued gently. “Did Chrissy go home already?”

“She did,” Steve said. “I told her I was fine.”

Eddie scoffed under his breath. Robin shot him a warning look.

“Okay,” Robin said. “Um, are you somewhere safe?”

Eddie couldn’t help but think that Robin was doing an amazing job at helping Steve right now. Better than whatever shit he could had said if it was him talking.

“…My room,” he heard Steve say quietly.

Eddie stayed quiet while Robin talked.

Honestly, he was grateful for it.

She had this way of smoothing things over, of sounding calm and steady and like she knew what to do with people who were unraveling. Eddie… didn’t.

Eddie was bad at this part. He joked, he deflected, he filled the silence until it burst, but when someone was actually in distress, really hurting, he tended to fumble it. Say the wrong thing or say nothing at all.

And Steve needed someone steady right now. Someone like Robin.

Not him.

So, Eddie leaned against the counter, half-listening as Robin murmured reassurances and practical questions. He told himself this was fine. This was better. Steve didn’t need him making everything louder and messier than it already was.

His thoughts drifted despite himself, back to the nurse’s office, the way Steve had looked at him like he was too much, like Eddie’s presence was an extra problem piled onto an already bad day. I can wait. The word had landed harder than Eddie wanted to admit.

He was so deep in that spiral that he almost missed it.

“Is Eddie there?” Steve’s voice, tinny through the speaker but unmistakable, snapped him back to the present so hard his heart actually jumped.

Robin froze mid-sentence.

Eddie straightened, breath catching. “What?” he mouthed.

Robin’s eyes flicked to him, something knowing there, and before Eddie could even shake his head and run far, far away from the phone, Robin spoke.

“Yeah,” she said easily. “He is.”

“Robin,” Eddie hissed.

Too late. She was already holding the phone out to him, receiver inches from his face, a look on her face that said you’re not getting out of this.

“Have fun,” she added cheerfully, and then, traitor, she walked off toward the back of the trailer, giving him exactly zero chance to refuse.

Eddie stared after her, jaw dropping. “I will never forgive you,” he muttered.

The phone crackled in his hand.

“…Eddie?” Steve said.

Eddie swallowed and brought the receiver up. “Yeah. Hi. Surprise.”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, but it faded quickly, leaving something awkward and tense in its place.

They didn’t speak for a few seconds. Eddie could hear Steve breathing on the other end, slow and uneven, like he was working himself up to something.

“You don’t have to…” Steve started, then stopped. “I mean. I just…”

“Take your time,” Eddie said, though his chest was tight and his pulse was doing stupid things.

Another pause.

“It’s stupid,” Steve said finally.

Eddie snorted softly. “Man, that bar is underground.”

That got a small sound out of Steve, almost a laugh. Almost.

“I keep thinking there’s something I should say,” Steve admitted. “And every time I try, it just… disappears.”

Eddie leaned his head back against the cabinet, eyes closing. Don’t freak out. Don’t read into it. Don’t let this mean more than it is.

“Concussions do that,” Eddie said lightly. “Scramble the brain. Turn thoughts into static.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Sure. That’s it.”

The way he said it made Eddie’s stomach twist. Like he didn’t quite believe his own excuse.

They drifted again, circling each other with half-sentences and aborted thoughts. Steve would start talking, trail off. Eddie would fill the space with something stupid or sarcastic, then immediately regret it. It was clumsy and fragile and felt like walking on a cracked floor.

Finally, Eddie couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s fingers tightened around the phone cord. “Why do you keep calling me?”

Silence.

“I mean,” Eddie rushed on, heart pounding, “it kinda feels like you want nothing to do with me. You told me to leave earlier. Pretty clearly. So, I’m just… trying to understand here.”

The quiet stretched so long Eddie thought the line had dropped.

Then Steve exhaled, shaky. “I don’t know.”

Eddie closed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Steve repeated, his words sounded more slurred now.

Eddie figured he was still smoking and it was getting to him now.

“I just, you’re… there. Like always. And earlier I panicked. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want…” He broke off, then said softly, “I’m sorry. For not letting you help.”

The words hit Eddie straight in the chest.

He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t joke. Couldn’t even breathe right for a second.

Because his heart couldn’t take it. Because Steve sounded so raw, so sincere and Eddie knew. He knew this wasn’t sober Steve. This was weed and exhaustion and pain loosening things that would snap right back into place by morning.

He wasn’t what Steve needed. Not really.

So, Eddie did the only thing he could to protect himself.

“Hey,” he said gently, forcing steadiness into his voice. “You should rest. Seriously. Your brain’s been through hell today.”

Steve made a small protesting noise. “But…”

“Nope,” Eddie said, firmer now. “Doctor Munson’s orders. Lights off. Eyes closed. Sweet dreams,” he tried to joke. Tried to hide the raw emotions going through him right now.

There was a pause.

“…Okay,” Steve said quietly. “Thanks. For talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Eddie replied, and hated how true it sounded.

They hung up.

Eddie stared at the wall for a long moment; phone still pressed to his ear even after the dial tone faded. His chest felt hollow and overfull at the same time, emotions crashing into each other with nowhere to go.

Robin reappeared a minute later, cautious. “You okay?”

Eddie looked at her.

Then he broke.

He sank down onto the kitchen floor, face in his hands, a broken laugh turning into something wet and ugly. “Fuck everything,” he choked, shoulders shaking.

Robin didn’t say anything. She just crossed the room and sat beside him, pulling him into her arms while Eddie cried like his heart had finally decided it was done pretending.

Eddie didn’t stop crying right away.

It came in waves, sharp breaths that hitched in his chest, then long, shaky exhales that felt like they were pulling something loose inside him. His hands curled into the front of Robin’s jacket like he needed proof she was real, that the trailer was still there.

Robin let him. She was just a steady pressure, one hand warm between his shoulder blades, the other tangled lightly in his hair.

After a while, Eddie dragged a sleeve across his face and laughed weakly. “Wow,” he said hoarsely. “Cool. Love this for me.”

Robin hummed. “You done, or are there more tears scheduled?”

Eddie chuckled, god, Robin always knew how and when to make him smile.

“Give it a minute,” he sniffed. “My body’s going for the dramatic finish.”

He leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, staring up at the ceiling. He then glanced at the tv, the horror movie was still paused on some ridiculous fog-filled shot, frozen mid-scream. Felt about right. He let another chuckle because of that.

He felt so stupid right now.

“I did everything right,” Eddie said suddenly. “Didn’t I?”

Robin didn’t answer immediately. She waited, because she knew Eddie wasn’t done.

“I helped him,” he went on. “I didn’t purse him. I left when he asked. I didn’t push. I didn’t make it weird. I didn’t…” His voice wobbled. “I didn’t stay.”

Robin glanced at him. “And that’s the part that’s killing you.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah.”

He pressed his palms into his eyes, like he could scrub the memory out. “He sounded so… small on the phone. Like if I’d said one wrong thing he’d disappear. And then he apologized.” He let out a breath that shook. “Robin, he sounded so sincere that I almost bought it. But then I remembered. This isn’t the first time he fucking does this, and he always goes back to that stupid, fucking cold persona. I feel so stupid, so fucking pathetic.”

“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. I will not allowed it,” she said softly.

Eddie tried to smile at her; he wasn’t sure he achieved it. “I just told him to go to sleep.”

Robin tilted her head. “What were you supposed to do? Confess your undying love while he’s high on god-knows what and half-conscious?”

Eddie barked out a laugh despite himself. “God, no. Can you imagine? ‘Hey man, while your brain’s scrambled eggs, quick question: you are all I can think about, go out with me?’”

“Very romantic,” Robin deadpanned.

He sobered again. “I meant what I said, though. Tomorrow? He’s gonna wake up and barely remember the call. Or he’ll remember and regret it. Or he’ll go right back to pretending I’m just… noise.”

Robin watched him carefully. “And that scares you.”

“Yeah,” Eddie admitted. “Because tonight? For like thirty seconds, it felt like he actually wanted me in some way. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Robin leaned back too, shoulder bumping his. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight.”

Eddie scoffed. “I always decide things at night. Bad habit.”

She smiled a little, then grew serious. “Steve seems to not good at knowing what he needs. Especially when it comes to you.”

Eddie glanced at her. “You think?”

“I know,” she said. “Steve seems to be the type of guy who has everything planned. You coming into his life wasn’t a part of his plans. Of course he panics.”

Eddie stared at the paused TV in the distance again. “He told me to go.”

“And then he called you,” Robin said gently. “Twice, if you count earlier.”

That landed.

“Three times actually,” Eddie admitted, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What?” he felt Robin shift closer.

Eddie exhaled slowly, some of the tightness in his chest easing, not disappearing, but loosening enough to breathe around. “He looked so hurt when I left,” he admitted and ignoring the glare Robin was giving him. “I told myself it was my imagination. That I was projecting.”

Robin, seemingly letting go of the bombshell he had dropped, nudged him. “You’re not usually that subtle.”

“Rude,” he said automatically, then sighed. “But yeah. I saw it. I just… didn’t think I was allowed to matter.”

Robin’s voice softened. “You matter, idiot.”

He blinked hard, throat thick again. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I hate this.”

They sat there a little longer, the trailer quiet except for the hum of the fridge and Eddie’s breathing slowly evening out.

Eventually, Robin reached for the remote. “Want me to restart the movie, or is your emotional devastation the main event tonight?”

Eddie managed a tired smirk. “Put it on. If someone doesn’t get disemboweled soon, I might start thinking too much.”

She hit play, the scream resuming like nothing had happened.

Eddie leaned back, eyes on the screen but mind miles away.

Steve’s voice echoed faintly in his head.

I’m sorry.

***

Steve took his meds like he was supposed to this time.

He stared at the orange bottle for a long second first, like it might say something different if he waited long enough, then shook two pills into his palm. They looked harmless. Tiny. Like they couldn’t possibly be responsible for the way his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and broken glass at the same time.

He swallowed them dry, winced, then chased them with water. Chrissy had already gone home, giving him that careful look like she didn’t trust him not to fall apart the second she turned her back. He told her he was fine. Again. She didn’t argue, which somehow made it worse.

Steve sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his face.

The room felt too quiet, too sharp as always. Every sound, cars passing outside, the low hum of the fridge down the hall, felt like it was brushing directly against his nerves. His head throbbed in a dull, persistent way, but that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that he couldn’t stop thinking.

He opened his drawer, fingers already knowing where to go, and pulled out what little weed he had left. He frowned at it. Not much. Definitely not enough to be reckless with.

He considered putting it back.

He didn’t.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, like that explained anything.

He lit up, slow and careful, the familiar burn settling into his lungs. For a second, just one tiny second, it helped. The tightness in his shoulders eased. The buzzing in his head softened.

And then, like his brain was waiting for the opening, Eddie Munson flooded in.

Eddie in the bathroom, eyes wide and worried. Eddie’s hands on his arm, grounding and warm. Eddie’s voice saying his name like it mattered. Eddie standing in the nurse’s office doorway, looking tired in a way Steve couldn’t stop replaying.

Eddie leaving.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “Stop,” he whispered to himself. It didn’t work.

The weed didn’t dull the thoughts like it usually did. If anything, it sharpened them, turned them over, forced him to look at every angle. Every stupid thing he’d said. Every moment he’d pushed instead of pulled.

He exhaled shakily, fingers tapping against his thigh, restless.

Without really thinking about it, without wanting to, he told himself, his hand drifted to the phone.

He stared at it. Told himself not to.

His fingers dialed anyway.

The number felt burned into his muscle memory, like his body had decided something his brain hadn’t caught up to yet. Each ring sent his pulse skidding higher, heart thudding too fast, too loud.

Then…

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice.

Steve froze.

It was like ice water down his spine, sudden and shocking. His stomach dropped, nausea curling sharp and ugly. For a split second, his mind went absolutely blank, then it rushed back all at once, loud and panicked.

Who the fuck is that?

Why is she answering Eddie’s phone?

Why does that hurt so much?

His grip tightened around the receiver. He almost hung up. Almost said something stupid. Almost.

“Hi,” he heard himself say, voice rough and unfamiliar. “Um. Sorry. I… I was looking for Eddie.”

There was a pause. Too long. Steve’s chest tightened like a fist was closing around it.

The woman voice said something, he wasn’t sure what, but he felt himself keep talking, and talking. His thoughts blurred together and he wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore.

And then, suddenly, Eddie’s voice was there. Real. Close. Not in his head.

Steve barely remembered what he said before that and he had a hard time with what he said after.

The conversation blurred at the edges, words slipping through his fingers like water. He knew he sounded off. He knew Eddie could hear it. He knew he wanted to say something, something important, something honest, but every time he got close, it tangled up in his throat.

There was too much. Earlier, the nurse’s office, the way Eddie had looked at him like he was worth it. The way Steve had shoved him away anyway.

And then Eddie told him to rest.

Told him to go to sleep.

Like it was nothing. Like it didn’t matter. Like Eddie hadn’t been the one person Steve had wanted to hear, even if he didn’t understand why.

The click of the line going dead echoed in his ear.

Eddie had hung up.

Steve stared at the phone, breath shallow, his head throbbed in a way that had nothing to do with his concussion. His hands were shaking now, badly enough that he had to set the receiver down before he dropped it.

“What the actual fuck is wrong to me?” he whispered.

His head hurt. His ears rang. The room felt like it was tilting again, but he barely noticed it. Something deeper was unraveling, something he didn’t have words for and absolutely did not want to examine.

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once, twice, then stopping short like he’d forgotten where he was going.

Why did that hurt?

Why did Eddie Munson, the fucking freak, the guy he’d spent years rolling his eyes at, avoiding, dismissing, why did that matter this much?

Steve pressed his palms into his eyes, breathing hard. “Get it together,” he told himself. “You’re high. You’re concussed. You’re tired.”

That had to be it.

Except deep down, past the haze and the pain and the denial, he knew something terrifyingly clear.

He was going to remember this.

The call. Eddie’s voice. The way the line went dead.

And the fact that this time, Eddie was the one who walked away.

Steve sank down onto the bed, heart racing, chest aching like he’d lost something he didn’t know how to name.

And for the first time, the thought scared him more than the pain ever could.

Chapter Text

Steve couldn’t sleep much.

He drifted in and out of that uneasy rest that never really reached anything deep enough to feel like relief. His head throbbed in dull pulses that made him want to remove his head, and every time he shifted, the ringing in his left ear flared like a warning.

So, as an expected result, he woke up exhausted.

The morning light filtering through his blinds felt aggressive. Too bright, burning his eyes. For a second, he lay there and tried not to think. He tried to just have a fucking moment to breath.

Something that felt almost impossible these days.

But then it all came back.

The call from last night and especially who he had called.

His stomach twisted.

He rolled onto his side, pressing his good ear into the pillow to mute the world a little. It didn’t help much.

He remembered it.

Every fucking word.

Which meant he couldn’t blame the weed.

Couldn’t blame the concussion that was barely there now.

Now he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened because now he remembered, not just blurred memories, not just the murmur of someone on the other line.

“Shit,” he muttered. It came out hoarse.

And then his brain, like it had been waiting for permission, started replaying everything in brutal, high-definition detail.

The dialing.

The woman’s voice.

The way his stomach had dropped like he’d been caught doing something he couldn’t even name.

The way he kept talking.

The way he hadn’t hung up.

The way he’d asked for Eddie.

His breath caught.

Why did he remember the number? That hit him like a slap.

He hadn’t looked it up. Hadn’t checked anything. His fingers had just moved. Like they already knew it.

Like they’d known it for a while.

What the actual fuck.

He squeezed his eyes shut, heart beginning to pound harder. The panic didn’t come all at once, it crept in, tightening around his ribs, stealing oxygen little by little.

Why did he call him?

Why did he keep talking?

Why did he apologize?

Steve shoved himself up into a sitting position too fast, the room tilting violently for a second. His head pulsed in protest, but he barely registered it.

He’d said he didn’t know why he kept calling. He’d admitted that. Out loud.

His hands went to his hair, fingers tangling and pulling at the roots.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he whispered, voice cracking around the edges.

He remembered the silence after Eddie asked him why.

That awful, heavy silence that sat between them.

He remembered saying, You’re there. Like, always.

Jesus Christ.

He dropped back onto the mattress like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

He had basically confessed something.

Not fully. Not clearly. But enough.

Enough that it felt exposed.

Raw and humiliating.

And Eddie had told him to go to sleep.

Steve’s chest tightened painfully at that.

Eddie had hung up.

Not him.

For once, Steve wasn’t the one slamming the door shut. He wasn’t the one walking away.

Eddie had decided the conversation was over.

And that hurt in a way he couldn’t rationalize.

He dragged a pillow over his face and groaned into it, muffling the sound because even hearing himself panic felt too loud.

This wasn’t just embarrassment.

This wasn’t just “I called a guy I don’t like while high.” And it seems it wasn’t even a one-time thing.

This was something deeper.

Something worse.

Because the truth, the one his brain kept trying to run from , was that he hadn’t wanted to hang up.

He’d wanted to keep talking.

He’d wanted Eddie to stay.

His breathing started coming too fast.

No.

Nope.

Absolutely the fuck not.

He sat up again, pulse hammering in his ears or ear, singular, because the left one was still ringing like it was mocking him.

Maybe this was brain damage.

Yeah.

That had to be it. It was just the confusion.

Because the alternative…

He muffled another scream into his pillow. He could feel the anger rising, he didn’t want to think about him anymore.

About Eddie the freak. Eddie the outcast. Eddie the guy he’d spent years dismissing because it was easier than looking too closely.

He stood abruptly, pacing once across his room.

His thoughts felt scrambled and sharp at the same time.

He remembered the way he’d gone quiet after Steve apologized.

That silence.

God, that silence.

What if Eddie had heard something in his voice?

What if he knew?

Knew what?

Steve didn’t even know what and that was the worst part.

He pressed his palms into his eyes until he saw white flashes behind his eyelids.

“Get it together,” he hissed at himself.

Everything is wrong.

His head isn’t right.

His hearing isn’t right.

His life isn’t right.

He isn’t right.

Is this what losing your mind feels like?

He tried to retrace it logically.

He’d been alone and in pain, Eddie had helped him and that was it.

It was gratitude.

Misplaced gratitude.

Anyone would’ve called the person who showed up.

Right?

Right?

Except he hadn’t called anyone else.

Not Tommy. Not anyone from the team. Not even Chrissy.

He’d called Eddie.

His stomach flipped again, nausea rising sharp and hot, he could taste it.

He leaned over his trash can just in case, breathing through it until the wave passed.

How the hell did he know the number?

How many times had he memorized it without realizing it?

And what the hell had he said before?

He sank down onto the floor, back against his bed, hands limp in his lap.

He felt like something inside him had cracked open, and he didn’t have the tools to put it back together.

Because if he admitted this wasn’t just the weed…

If he admitted this wasn’t just confusion…

Then what was it?

Why did it matter that Eddie had hung up?

His throat tightened.

He didn’t want to think about this anymore, he tried so hard to pushes the thoughts away but they would just not fucking budge, they stayed glued in his mind, replaying over and over again.

He just wanted to go back to when things made sense, when Eddie was just background noise, just another guy in the hallway.

His hands started shaking again.

He hated feeling out of control.

He hated that for thirty seconds on that phone call, he’d felt something dangerously close to relief just hearing Eddie breathe on the other end.

And he hated that Eddie had been the one to end it.

And Steve was spiraling.

The ringing in his ear swelled again, filling the silence.

He pressed his good ear into his shoulder instinctively, like he could block it out.

Everything felt wrong.

He stayed there for just a moment, trying to catch his breath. He needed to calm down; he needed to get ready now or he was going to be late for school.

After a few minutes he felt himself started to be able to take deep breaths, his mind cleared a bit, and he finally managed to stand up again. He felt a little bit dizzy, but he ignored it, he headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

Steve finally felt better after he finished his routine in the bathroom. He then got ready quickly, took his medicine and grabbed a granola bar. Chrissy would be so mad at him if he headed out on an empty stomach.

The last day of school was loud.

Hallways buzzed with that frantic end-of-year energy, lockers slamming, people shouting across corridors, teachers pretending to maintain order while clearly giving up. There were yearbooks being passed around, sharpie signatures, promises to “stay in touch.”

Steve felt like he was moving through it underwater.

Miraculously his head was getting better, ignoring how he felt earlier in the morning, he hadn’t really felt any type of pain coming from it and he was so relief. But the left side of the world was still muffled. It made everything feel off-balance. Like reality was tilted slightly and only he could feel it.

He passed groups of people talking excitedly about summer plans, college orientations, dorm assignments.

College.

The word sat heavy in his chest.

His dad had called a couple of nights ago, the exchange was brief as per usual, distracted, already halfway into a lecture about “responsibility” and “legacy” and “making smart choices.” He’d mentioned business programs again. Something in finance.

“You’re good with people,” his dad had said. “Use that.”

Steve had stared at the wall while holding the receiver, he didn’t know what he wanted.

He didn’t even know who he was outside of what other people expected him to be.

The realization had hit like a second concussion.

What the hell is he doing after this?

He’d spent so much time trying to survive high school that he hadn’t thought beyond it.

Now it was ending.

And there was nothing waiting for him.

At lunch, Steve sat at his now usual table. It was the last time at least.

He picked at his fries absently while he rested his head on his hand. His gaze wandered before he could stop it.

Eddie’s table.

There he was again.

Animated. So… alive.

Dice scattered across the table. A notebook open between him and Mike Wheeler? Nancy’s little brother? Steve blinked slowly watching the boy, he was unmistakable with that serious expression he wore like armor. There were other kids as well, Steve knew this was new, they had never hang out before.

He recognized them as Mike’s friends, but he didn’t knew his names.

Eddie must be recruiting new members.

Steve watched as they all leaned in close, arguing over something he couldn’t make out.

Eddie was in the middle of it, hands moving, eyes bright. He hugged the other guys occasionally, he didn’t knew his names either, but they were always with him.

And he looked… happy.

Steve’s jaw tightened.

He didn’t know Eddie had actual friends like that.

He’d assumed it was just theatrics or something. He never paid attention to it.

But watching him now, Steve could see it. The way Eddie listened to them. The way he nudged one of the younger kids’ shoulders when he got too worked up. The way he smiled, soft, when they laughed at something he had said.

Soft.

Just as Steve started to feel angry about thinking that he watched as Eddie gaze drifted and landed on him.

Fuck.

Steve looked away immediately, heat rising up his neck.

Something ugly and hot settled low in his stomach.

It made him feel sick.

He told himself it was irritation. Annoyance. That was easier. Cleaner.

He hated the freak.

He’d always hated the freak.

“Found you.” A voice cut his train of thoughts.

Chrissy slid into the seat across from him, her smile bright enough to cut through the cafeteria haze.

“Hey,” Steve said, forcing one back.

She launched into talking about graduation rehearsal, how chaotic it was, how the band kept messing up cues, how Robin nearly tripped over a music stand and pretended it was intentional, how she and Robin bumped into each other and couldn’t stop laughing about it,

Steve blinked.

“Are you close with Robin now?” he echoed.

Chrissy’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Yeah. We’ve been practicing together a lot. Like… a lot.”

Steve leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

Chrissy laughed, flustered. “She’s just easy to talk to. And she makes everything less stressful.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, watching her carefully.

“Uh-huh.”

She rambled on, describing how Robin talks too fast when she’s nervous, how she over-explains everything, how she’d brought her a coffee without even asking what she liked and somehow guessed right anyway.

Steve didn’t comment. Just let her talk.

It was easier to focus on Chrissy’s soft excitement than the way his mind kept drifting back to the other side of the cafeteria.

Or to how everything in his life was messed up.

Later that evening, they ended up at the small diner, cracked vinyl booths, neon signs flickering in the windows.

They ordered burgers and fries and milkshakes. For a little while, Steve almost forgot the pressure sitting in his chest.

Almost.

Halfway through the meal, Chrissy paused.

“How’s your hearing?”

He stilled, and just as he was about to respond with his usual “It’s fine” Chrissy gave him a look as if she sensed the lie.

Steve sighed.

“It’s not worse,” he admitted. “I just… can’t really hear out of my left ear anymore.”

Saying it out loud felt heavier than he expected.

“It’s like everything’s underwater on that side. I can tell there’s sound, but it’s muffled.”

Chrissy’s expression softened, concern flickering behind her eyes.

“Does that scare you?”

He hesitated.

“Yeah, a lot really,” he said quietly.

That was the most honest he’d been about it.

They talked about doctors, follow-ups, whether it might still heal. Steve tried not to retreat into sarcasm. Tried to stay present.

It was exhausting. Being honest always was.

Eventually, Chrissy nudged the conversation somewhere lighter again, back to Robin, to rehearsal, to how graduation was going to feel surreal.

Steve listened.

But under it all, something still itched at him.

Steve didn’t even know what he wanted to be after graduating.

Everyone seemed to have a plan, and hearing Chrissy talk to animatedly about it made him feel weird. He was supposed to feel excited, happy about it, but he just felt empty.

And he didn’t knew what to do about it.

“Steve, are you listening to me,” Chrissy said a bit louder, finally catching Steve’s attention again.

He gave her an apologetic smile, and she shook her head slightly, a smile, fond smile on her lips.

“I need you to do me a favor,” she said soflty.

Steve arched his eyebrow, “shoot.”

“Can you maybe ask Eddie what is Robin’s favorite cake?” Chrissy spoke so fast Steve had to take an extra second to process what she had said.

“What?” he said a bit too loud; he even straddle himself. “What?” he repeated lower this time.

“Listen,” Chrissy started but Steve cut her off.

“No, I will not be talking to him. Just ask her, is that hard?” Steve snapped.

Chrissy looked taken back for a second.

“Okey, rude,” she glared at him. “But Robin’s birthday is coming up, and I want to surprise her. Eddie is literally the only person I have ever seen her with.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Steve felt irritated, and he felt horrible for snapping at her, but he didn’t understand why he had to do it.

“I am asking for a simple favor,” Chrissy smiled.

And Steve felt as if he was going to combust.

Chapter Text

“You did what?” Eddie shouted.

Like, he literally shouted. He could even hear the echo of his voice ringing in his ear.

He even had to take a deep breath before asking again. “You. Did. What.”

Robin didn’t even flinch.

“I talked to Chrissy,” she repeated calmly.

Eddie felt lightheaded. He stood there, dumbfounded and disoriented. He even had to lean into the nearest wall to brace himself.

Robin stared at him with that smirk on her face that Eddie knew so well, and he knew it never meant anything good.

So that means Eddie is fucked.

After a couple of seconds of silence Robin opened her mouth to probably explain the bombshell she had just dropped but Eddie held his hand up, signaling to stop and then slid down the wall slowly.

He needed a minute.

Robin huffed a laugh, moving closer until she was hovering above him.

“C’mon, I am helping you.”

Eddie groaned in response. He could not believe what Robin just told him, he was actually waiting the part where she said it was just a prank and Eddie would act mad because he almost had a heart attack.

 But that never came and Eddie felt himself actually starting to have a heart attack.

“Relax,” Robin said, and Eddie could hear the smile on her.

“Relax?” he croaked. “You just engineered a social interaction between me and Steve Harrington like we’re lab rats in some government experiment.”

Robin’s grin widened.

“I am helping you,” she repeated.

He let out a broken noise that was somewhere between a groan and a dying goat.

He had genuinely been waiting for the punchline.

There was still a small chance for her to say: Just kidding!

But she hadn’t.

And this was starting to feel very real. And Eddie was starting to feel more lightheaded.

“Do you want to know if you actually have a chance with Steve or not?” Robin asked, tilting her head.

And Eddie could only rest his head again the wall and look up at the ceiling.

Because yes. Obviously yes. He was actively crashing the fuck out every single time he even remotely think about Steve.

“This is fucking insane,” he breathed out.

Because Robin, oh sweet and wonderful Robin, just told him she had spoken to Chrissy. She didn’t gave specifics about what exactly, but she did told him that there was this chance that Steve would be coming his way.

And the only thing Eddie could think right now was, what the actual fuck.

“Okey,” Eddie then said, trying to stop his head from spinning, “I want to know exactly what is happening right now, I need to know exact words use during that conversation and what the fuck does it means ‘he might come to talk to me’ because I feel I might explode.”

Robin smiled and then sat down beside him.

“Well, Chrissy and I started to spend so much time together lately, y’ know band, graduation practice, whatever not the point. But she is actually nice, so we started talking and then, naturally, Steve came up in our conversation,” and the smile on Robin face at this point started to scare Eddie.

But Robin ignored the look Eddie was giving her and continued, “And obviously I couldn’t help myself and ask some very specific questions, which lead me to find out, Chrissy thinks he’s just being a dick.”

Oh, Eddie knew Robin was going to be so fucking vague with this, but he still wanted to pull her hair.

“That didn’t answer any of the questions I have,” Eddie huffed. “But that’s it? That’s your grand revelation? Steve Harrington being a dick is not breaking news.”

Robin bumped her shoulder against his. “No, you idiot. She thinks he’s being a dick on purpose. To you.”

That made him pause.

“…On purpose.”

“Yes.”

Eddie blinked at her. That stung.

“On purpose,” he repeated slowly, like maybe if he stretched the words out long enough, they would rearrange themselves into something less catastrophic.

Robin nodded.

He stared at her.

She stared back.

He waited for more.

Nothing.

“…Robin.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say that and then sit there like you’ve delivered a weather update.”

She shrugged. “It’s information.”

“It’s incomplete information.”

“It’s intriguing.”

“It’s emotionally destabilizing.”

Robin grinned.

Eddie dragged a hand down his face. “On purpose how? Why? How did you find this out again?”

Robin leaned back against the wall, stretching her legs out. “I simply asked the right questions. But let’s focus on what Chrissy said that it doesn’t feel natural. The way he reacts to you. It’s like he gears up for it.”

“Gears up.”

“Yeah. Like he sees you coming and he decides ahead of time what expression he’s gonna wear.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped.

“That…” he laughed once, sharp and humorless, “that sounds like someone who hates me and is preparing for impact.”

Robin turned her head slowly. “Or someone who cares too much.”

He went very still.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It can be.”

Eddie shook his head immediately. “No. No, no, no. See, you’re doing that thing where you romanticize not normal behavior.”

“I’m not…”

“He rolls his eyes at me,” Eddie interrupted her.

He was actively losing his mind again.

“Because you antagonize him.”

“He avoids sitting near me.”

“You once put a fake spider in his locker.”

“That was years ago.”

“Trauma lingers.”

“I am being serious Robin, I actually think he just doesn’t like me,” Eddie sigh, saying it out loud will always hurt more than he would like to admit.

“I’m serious too, we actually think he doesn’t hates you. He needs to warm up.”

Eddie pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “You said he might come talk to me. I need you to explain that right now or I am going to explode.”

Robin sighed dramatically. “Fine. I told Chrissy that if Steve had a reason to talk to you, he would.”

Eddie frowned. “Why would he need a reason.”

“Because he’s stubborn. And proud. And very bad at admitting when he’s curious.”

“Curious about what.”

Robin looked at him like he was hopeless.

“You.”

The word landed somewhere uncomfortable in his chest.

But then something else started to make Eddie’s heart pump faster.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said quickly, “What exactly did you tell Chrissy? How did we both ended in the same sentence?”

Robin expression immediately softened.

“Eddie,” she said carefully, “I didn’t tell her you like him.”

His shoulders dropped an inch.

“You didn’t.”

“No.”

“You swear.”

“I swear.”

He searched her face anyway, suspicious by nature and traumatized by possibility.

“I’m not an idiot,” she continued. “I’m not outing you to the Hawkins High cheer committee.”

“Good,” he muttered. “Because I would actually pass away.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am correctly dramatic.”

She huffed a laugh, then leaned her head back against the wall beside him.

“I didn’t bring you up first,” she admitted. “Chrissy did.”

Everything suddenly felt quieter.

 “I am so fucking confused right now, I think I am losing my mind,” Eddie covered his face with his hand.

“She and Steve have talked about you before,” Robin spoke quietly.

That did it.

Eddie felt his stomach flip like he’d just missed a stair.

“They’ve what.”

“They’ve talked,” Robin repeated calmly. “Chrissy said she asked him once why he gets so tense whenever you’re around.”

Eddie stared at her like she’d just started speaking another language.

“Tense.”

“Her word, not mine.”

He laughed weakly. “Maybe he’s tense because I’m annoy him.”

“No, she really thinks there’s something else there, but she doesn’t know what.”

Eddie’s heartbeat was officially in his throat now. He didn’t know what to do with this, he didn’t even know how to feel about it. This was too much for his poor soul, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Eddie pressed his palms against his eyes until he saw stars.

Okay.

Okay.

Breathe.

In. Out.

He had survived middle school. He had survived wearing eyeliner in a conservative small town. He could survive this.

Probably.

Probably not.

He dragged his hands down his face and let them rest in his lap. The trailer buzzed faintly around them.

There was too many thoughts bouncing on his head.

Steve Harrington had apparently discussed him.

Multiple times.

With Chrissy.

They talked about… him.

Eddie’s brain tried to replay every interaction he’d ever had with Steve like it was suddenly crucial evidence in a murder trial.

He actually needed to stop right now, or he was going to fucking die.

He took another breath. Slower this time. Forced it.

He needed facts. Concrete facts. Not vibes. Not hopeful delusions.

“Okay,” he said finally, pushing himself up straighter against the wall. “Okay. Fine. So. Chrissy thinks he’s tense. You think he’s curious. Great. Love that. Wonderful. That still does not explain what you meant earlier.”

Robin blinked. “Earlier when?”

“When you said,” Eddie waved a hand in her direction, “that you arranged something. That he might come my way. Like I’m a bus stop.”

Robin’s eyes widened slightly.

“Oh.”

Eddie narrowed his gaze.

“Oh?” he repeated.

She snapped her fingers softly. “Right. I forgot about that part.”

“You forgot?” His voice cracked. “You forgot the part where you meddled in my emotional stability?”

“It’s not meddling, it’s…”

“If you say ‘facilitating’ I will scream.”

Robin grinned unapologetically.

Eddie let his head thunk gently against the wall again.

“Explain. Slowly. Pretend I’m fragile.”

“You are fragile.”

“Pretend I don’t know that.”

Robin shifted, turning slightly toward him.

“So,” she began casually, like this wasn’t life-altering information, “Chrissy wants to surprise me for my birthday.”

Eddie blinked. “Your birthday?”

“Yes.”

“What does that have to do with…”

“She wants to bake me a cake.”

He stared at her.

Robin stared back.

Eddie’s brain slowly tried to assemble the pieces.

“And?”

“And,” Robin continued patiently, “she doesn’t know what my favorite cake is.”

Silence.

Eddie frowned. “Why wouldn’t she just ask you?”

“Because it’s a surprise.”

“Okay?”

Eddi had no fucking idea where this was going, and it was driving his insane. He sometimes hated the way Robin spoke so vaguely, waiting for him to put the pieces together.

“And,” Robin went on, “apparently, I only ever hang out with you my lovely friend.”

Eddie felt something tighten in his chest.

“So, she thought,” Robin continued casually, “you would know.”

Eddie swallowed.

“And instead of just asking me herself…”

Robin smiled, just slightly.

“She will ask Steve to ask you.”

The trailer felt very small all of a sudden. Eddie suddenly stood up, he needed to walk. Or do something, whatever.

“She what?”

“She will ask Steve to ask you what my favorite cake is.”

Eddie stared at her like she had just confessed to arson.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Robin was so relaxed, sitting on the floor as if this was the most normal thing.

Eddie didn’t know what to do.

“No. No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s literally the most harmless excuse in the world.”

“It’s not harmless!” Eddie threw his hands up. “It’s a socially sanctioned interaction!”

“That’s the point.”

He paced once across the narrow space of the trailer, then back again.

“So, the plan,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, “is that Steve walks up to me and says what exactly?”

Robin shrugged. “Probably something like, ‘Hey, Eds, what’s Robin’s favorite cake?’”

Eddie’s stomach flipped violently.

“He would never call me Eds,” he scoffed.

“He absolutely would.”

“Nope.”

Robin bit back a smile.

“And then,” she continued, “you answer. Like a normal person.”

Eddie is starting to have trouble breathing. Like, seriously.

“Like a normal person,” he repeated hollowly.

“Yes.”

“You’re asking a lot.”

“It’s cake, Eddie.”

“It’s not about the cake!”

Robin leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“He doesn’t know it’s a setup,” she said gently. “To him, it’s just a favor for Chrissy.”

That made Eddie hesitate.

“So, he could say no,” he clarified. “We don’t know if he will actually do it.”

“Right.”

“But if he says yes…”

“Then he chose to walk over.”

The words settled between them.

Eddie’s throat went dry.

“And when is this supposed to happen?” he asked carefully.

Robin shrugged.

“Soon. Chrissy said she’d ask him today.”

Eddie felt his heart immediately start pounding again.

“Today.”

“Probably.”

He laughed weakly.

“So at any moment,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the door of the trailer like Steve might burst through it right now, “that could happen.”

Robin grinned.

“Yep.”

Eddie stared at the door.

He imagined it, Steve knocking, shifting his weight awkwardly, pretending this was casual.

Hey, Munson. What’s Robin’s favorite cake?

Eddie’s pulse thundered in his ears.

“What if he just sounds annoyed,” he muttered.

“Then you answer and move on.”

“What if he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else?”

“Then at least you’ll know.”

Eddie exhaled shakily.

“And what if,” he said more quietly, “he doesn’t look annoyed.”

Robin’s expression softened.

“Then you’ll know that too.”

The trailer went quiet.

Outside, a car passed on the road.

Inside, Eddie felt like he was standing at the edge of something huge and stupid and irreversible.

All over cake.

“Chocolate,” he muttered suddenly.

Robin blinked. “What?”

“My answer,” he said, staring at the door like it had personally betrayed him. “If he asks. It’s chocolate. With stupid frosting flowers.”

Robin smiled softly.

“See? You’re ready.”

Eddie laughed once, breathless.

“No,” he said. “I’m absolutely not.”

***

The diner smelled like burnt coffee and grease.

The neon sign outside flickered pink against the window, washing everything in a dull glow that made the chrome napkin holders look softer than they should. A jukebox hummed low in the corner. Someone laughed two booths down.

Steve couldn’t focus on any of it.

“So?” Chrissy asked gently. “Will you do it?”

She was watching him like this was important. Like this was bigger than cake.

Steve swallowed.

“Do I really have to?” he asked, staring down at the coffee in his cup like it might give him an out.

He really, really didn’t want to see Eddie.

Which was ridiculous.

Chrissy leaned her chin into her hand. “It’s just a favor.”

It wasn’t just a simple favor.

It was talking to Eddie.

“Steve?” Chrissy prompted.

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“You’re asking me to walk up to Munson,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And just… talk to him.”

“Yes.”

“Like normal.”

“Yes.”

He let out a humorless laugh.

“I really don’t want to be near that freak.”

He almost flinched at how rough he sounded.

But Chrissy’s expression softened.

“Why not?”

And Steve didn’t know why. And it frustrated him even more not knowing.

“Why not?” Chrissy asked again, quieter this time.

Steve tightened his grip around his coffee mug.

“Because he makes everything weird,” he muttered.

Chrissy raised an eyebrow. “Does he?”

“Yes.”

“How.”

Steve opened his mouth.

Closed it.

He didn’t have the words.

How do you explain that someone makes your chest feel tight for no reason?

How do you explain that you replay conversations in your head at midnight and hate yourself for it?

How do you explain dialing someone’s number just to hear them pick up?

He huffed out a breath.

“It’s just easier not to,” he said finally.

“Not to what?”

“Not to engage.”

Chrissy studied him carefully.

“You talk about him a lot.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “I do not.”

“You do.”

“That’s… no.”

“You asked me last week if I thought he was always that loud or if it was just around you.”

Steve felt heat creep up his neck.

“That was observational.”

“And you asked if he was always that close to people when he talks.”

“I was making a point.”

“And you asked if he…”

“Okay,” Steve cut her off, sharper than he meant to.

A couple at the counter glanced over.

He lowered his voice.

“Okay. Fine. Maybe I’ve mentioned him.”

“Why does it bother you so much?” she asked.

Because it didn’t feel like annoyance.

If it were annoyance, it would be simple.

Annoyance didn’t make you lie awake.

Annoyance didn’t make you hesitate before hanging up the phone.

Annoyance didn’t make your pulse jump when someone says your name.

Steve stared out the window at the parking lot.

The neon light flickered again.

“It’s just cake,” she reminded him gently. “You ask what Robin likes. He answers. That’s it.”

That’s it.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if Eddie looked bored?

What if he looked right through him?

What if he walked over and Eddie smiled at him like that again?

Steve’s chest tightened.

He hated not knowing what this was.

He hated that it felt like something.

“Please?” Chrissy asked softly. “For me.”

He closed his eyes for a second.

He could say no.

He should say no.

That would be safer.

Steve opened his eyes.

“When?” he asked.

Chrissy’s lips curved slightly. “Tomorrow?”

Tomorrow.

That gave him time.

He nodded once.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

Relief flooded Chrissy’s face.

“Thank you.”

Steve forced a small smile.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

Just cake.

Just a question.

Just walking up to Eddie Munson and pretending his pulse wasn’t trying to punch through his ribs.

He picked up his milkshake again, but his hand wasn’t as steady as he wanted it to be.

Tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Eddie woke up around noon.

For a split second, he didn’t know why his chest felt light.

Then it hit him.

It was graduation day. His graduation day.

He stared up at the cracked ceiling of his trailer, sunlight slipping in through the thin curtains and striping the walls in pale gold. The air already felt warmer than it had any right to be. Outside, he could hear a lawn mower somewhere in the distance, a dog barking for a solid minute before going quiet again.

And then it fully settled in.

He fucking did it.

A laugh burst out of him before he could stop it. It sounded half-hysterical, half-disbelieving.

He had survived Hawkins High.

Barely. And a year later. But he survived it, nonetheless.

The last day of school was something Eddie had hoped to feel last year. He remembered sitting in this exact bed twelve months ago, staring at the same ceiling, knowing he wasn’t walking across that stage. Knowing he’d messed it up.

The shame had been heavier than the summer heat.

But now. Now it was his chance.

He rolled onto his side and squinted at the clock.

10:07 A.M.

He groaned softly and flopped onto his back again.

Everything felt unreal right now.

Eddie dragged a hand through his hair, already messy and sticking up in impossible directions. He should get up. He should shower. He should probably make himself look like someone who didn’t crawl out of a crypt.

Instead, he just lay there, letting the reality soak into his bones.

No more teachers sighing when they saw his name on a paper.

No more whispers in the hallway.

No more almost. Because he did it. And Eddie felt so good about it.

He’d spent so long being the cautionary tale. The burnout. The freak who couldn’t get it together.

And now?

Now he had a cap and gown hanging on the back of his bedroom door.

He turned his head to look at it.

It didn’t look like much. Just cheap fabric and it was already wrinkled, but it felt like a trophy.

Eddie huffed out a breath and swung his legs off the bed. His feet hit the cool floor of the trailer, and he just sat there for a second, elbows on his knees.

After today, Hawkins would never look at him the same way again.

Or maybe it would.

Maybe he’d still be Eddie “the freak” Munson, just now with a diploma.

He snorted quietly. Yeah, probably that.

Eddie finally pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen. The trailer creaked familiarly beneath him, like it always did. The smell of old coffee lingered faintly from yesterday.

He poured himself a glass of water instead.

His reflection in the kitchen window caught his eye.

Dark circles. Bedhead. A faint bruise on his forearm from who-knows-what.

He looked like the same guy.

But he wasn’t. Because somewhere between last year and now, he’d stopped believing he was stuck.

After Eddie got himself together it was already 11:30 o’clock, and he needed to be at school for the ceremony a bit before 12, so he really needed to get going. Wayne had told him the night before that he would be there as soon as he was free from work so he knew that they would meet at there.

Eddie did a quick check of the room, hoping he wasn’t forgetting anything, he grabbed his keys and practically sprinted out the door.

Today was the best day of his life.

***

The loud ringing of an alarm echoed through the room. Each ring was like a stab on Steve’s head; he tried to silence it as soon as it started but he couldn't find the clock.

“God-fucking-damit,” Steve murmured.

After a couple of seconds, he finally removed the covers from his face in a quick motion and stretched his body until his hand finally reached the clock. He slammed it with so much more force than he intended to, but it at least stopped ringing.

Steve let out a sigh and slumped down into the mattress again, his mind was still clouded with sleep, but no matter how much he tried, that annoying heavy feeling started to press into his chest.

He knew what day it was, and he really wanted to just stay here and not move an inch.

Because what difference would it make? Steve couldn’t think of one.

His parents aren’t going to be there; he knew that from the very first day he started high school. He could just get his diploma mailed to him, it was just a piece of paper that he wasn’t really going to use anyways.

Steve rolled onto his side and stared at the wall.

The sunlight bleeding through his curtains was too bright. Too cheerful. Like the world was congratulating him for something he didn’t feel like he’d earned.

Graduation day.

Big deal.

Four years of being someone. And then suddenly… not anymore.

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

Last year he’d thought he had it figured out. Prom king. College brochures on the kitchen counter. Parents telling him which business programs looked “respectable.”

Now?

He wasn’t going to college in the fall.

Everything had gotten… messy. After everything that happened, after Nancy, after realizing popularity was about as stable as a folding chair, and especially after his concussion and his messed-up ear, something had shifted. The path that used to look straight suddenly looked like static.

He pushed himself up, rubbing a hand over his face.

His room felt too quiet. Too empty.

His parents were out of town. Again. Some conference. Some dinner. Something more important than this.

They’d left a note on the kitchen counter the night before.

Congratulations. Proud of you. We’ll celebrate when we’re back.

No exclamation mark.

No time specified.

Just a signature.

Steve stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

What difference would it make if he didn’t go?

The thought rang through his head again.

No one was expecting him to give a speech. No one was saving him a seat.

He could just skip it. Pretend this day didn’t actually happened and continue with his life as normally as he could manage.

His jaw tightened.

But Chrissy would notice.

She’d looked at him so seriously at the diner. Like this mattered. Like he mattered.

And he’d said yes.

Not for himself, for her. And he wasn’t about to disappoint the only person he actually cared about and that cared about him.

Steve swung his legs off the bed and stood, the carpet rough beneath his feet. He walked to his dresser and pulled open a drawer harder than necessary.

The cap and gown were folded inside.

The fabric felt stiff under his fingertips. And it was wrinkled at the edges.

He stared at them like they were accusing him of something.

You did it.

Did he?

He barely passed half his classes.

That didn’t feel like achievement. It felt like an escape.

Steve grabbed the gown and tossed it onto his bed. Then he went to the bathroom.

The mirror did him no favors.

Hair sticking up in the back. Faint shadows under his eyes. Jaw tight.

He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto his face.

This shouldn’t feel this heavy.

People were supposed to be excited about this day. This was supposed to be the beginning of something new and exciting. He was literally just starting a new chapter of his life.

But it just felt like… an ending.

He braced his hands on the sink and looked at himself.

What exactly was he graduating into?

His parents’ disappointed silence?

Hawkins shrinking smaller and smaller around him?

And then, uninvited, another thought slid in.

Eddie would be there.

Steve straightened slightly.

Eddie would be walking across that stage too. Probably grinning like he’d just won a war. Probably looking like he didn’t care, even though he absolutely would.

Steve swallowed.

He hadn’t thought about him since agreeing to ask him about the cake.

He’d tried even harder to push down any resemblance of a thought about him deep down his mind. He had made Chrissy change the subject completely before he could even started spiraling about it.

Steve even took his medications on time last night and went to sleep earlier just to avoiding thinking about it.

Because why could Chrissy not simply ask him herself? Why does it have to be him? And why was he so annoyed by it?

But today wasn’t just graduation.

It was tomorrow.

And tomorrow meant that he was supposed to walk up to Eddie and ask a simple question.

His stomach twisted.

Why did that feel bigger than this stupid ceremony?

Why did that feel more terrifying than walking across a stage in front of the entire town?

He shut the water off abruptly.

“This is stupid,” he muttered.

He grabbed a towel and dried his face too roughly.

He was angry.

Angry at the school. Angry at his parents. Angry at himself for not knowing what he wanted.

And, unfairly, angry at Eddie.

For existing in his head like this.

For making everything feel unstable.

For making a simple question about cake feel like a confession.

Steve walked back into his room and pulled on a clean shirt under the gown. The fabric clung awkwardly.

He fixed his hair automatically, muscle memory taking over. Hairspray. Comb. Adjust. Perfect.

There. That at least was something he could control.

He slipped the gown on and looked at himself in the mirror again.

He looked… fine.

Like every other graduate.

He grabbed the cap from the bed and turned it over in his hands.

The tassel brushed against his knuckles.

Four years.

And for what?

He shoved the cap onto his head and adjusted it until it sat straight.

His jaw tightened again.

He wasn’t doing this for the school.

He wasn’t doing it for his parents.

He was doing it because Chrissy asked.

Because she’d looked at him like he could do something simple and decent.

Because he was tired of running from things.

Even if he still wanted to.

Steve grabbed his car keys from the nightstand.

The house was quiet as he walked down the hallway.

He paused in the kitchen for a second, staring at the note on the counter.

We’ll celebrate when we’re back.

He flipped it over.

Blank on the other side.

Of course.

He walked to the front door.

He had his hand on the knob, but he physically couldn’t bring himself to twist it.

The weight of the day pressed down all at once.

His throat tightened unexpectedly, that growing pressure on his stomach intensified and he had to fight back the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

He exhaled slowly. It came out shaky.

Then he opened the door and stepped out.

This was the worst day of his life.

***

The gym was too hot.

It smelled like folding chairs, sweat and someone’s aggressively floral hairspray. The bleachers were packed, the air buzzing with chatter and camera flashes. A banner that read Congratulations Class of 1985 hung slightly crooked above the stage.

Eddie loved it.

He was vibrating in his seat.

He couldn’t stop smiling. His cheeks hurt. He didn’t care.

To his left and right were his people in their mismatched outfits and loud voices. Gareth had somehow convinced his mom to bring a camera the size of a small weapon. Jeff’s little sister was waving like Eddie could personally see her from across the gym floor. Frank’s dad had already shouted “That’s my boy!” at least twice even though Eddie was very much not his boy.

And the thing was, they were all here for him.

Just him.

He was the only one graduating.

They’d all piled into cars, dragged parents along, made posters, one of them read MUNSON MADE IT in glitter that was already shedding everywhere.

Eddie swallowed thickly.

He hadn’t expected that part to hit so hard.

He’d grown used to being the extra chair at other people’s dinner tables. The loud friend who never quite fit the family portrait.

But here they were. For him.

Even some of his new friend’s parents hugged him on the way in. Mrs. Henderson had squeezed his shoulders and said she was “so proud” even though he had known her for like 2 days tops. Frank’s mom had fixed his cap like he was one of her own.

Eddie had laughed it off.

But it lodged somewhere deep in his chest.

Wayne slipped into the row just as the first speech started.

Right on time.

Eddie spotted him instantly, work shirt still on, hands a little rough, eyes scanning until they landed on him.

Eddie beamed.

Wayne gave him that small, steady nod.

The kind that said I’m here without needing anything else.

Eddie’s throat tightened.

He lifted his chin slightly and grinned like an idiot.

Wayne grinned back.

To his right, Robin bumped his shoulder.

“You’re glowing,” she whispered.

“Hell, I am radiant,” Eddie whispered back dramatically.

She snorted.

Robin looked different in the gown, less chaotic somehow. But her eyes were bright with excitement and pride.

She deserved this too.

They leaned toward each other as the principal droned on about “the future” and “responsibility.”

“This is the longest speech in recorded history,” Eddie muttered.

“Shut up,” Robin whispered, but she was smiling.

Her gaze drifted over the crowd.

“Oh, there’s Chrissy.”

Eddie followed her line of sight.

Chrissy was weaving through the aisle, scanning for them.

Robin immediately waved her over.

“Come sit with us!” she stage-whispered loudly.

Chrissy smiled brightly and stepped closer to their row.

“I absolutely will,” she said, breathless. “I’m just waiting for Steve. Save us seats?”

Eddie blinked.

“…What?”

But Chrissy was already turning, scanning the entrance again.

Steve.

Eddie’s stomach dropped and flipped at the same time.

He hadn’t expected that.

He thought, stupidly, maybe, that he wouldn’t see Steve until after. Maybe in passing. Maybe not at all.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

As soon as Chrissy disappeared back into the crowd, Eddie slowly turned his head toward Robin.

She was looking suspiciously neutral.

“Was that,” Eddie whispered tightly, “another one of your little social experiments?”

Robin’s eyes widened.

“What? No!”

“Robin.”

“I swear,” she hissed. “I completely forgot about Steve.”

“You forgot about Steve.”

“Yes!”

“You forgot about the human embodiment of my anxiety.”

She swatted his arm lightly. “I just thought it’d be nice if Chrissy sat with us. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Eddie exhaled slowly.

Okay.

Okay.

This was fine.

He wanted to be near Steve.

He did.

He just… Not unprepared.

Not on a day when his emotions were already running high.

His heart could only handle so much in one sitting.

He stared at the stage and forced himself to focus.

Speeches. Names. Clapping.

Just breathe.

In. Out.

It’s graduation.

It’s your day.

Focus.

A ripple moved through the crowd.

Chrissy reappeared.

And behind her.

Steve. Of course.

He looked… distant. But Eddie had to admit to himself that he looked nice.

The gown sitting straight on his shoulders. Hair perfectly in place, of course. Jaw tight, though. Like he was bracing for something.

Eddie felt his pulse spike.

Casual.

Be casual.

Chrissy slid into the seat beside Robin, and Steve took the one next to her, two seats away from Eddie.

But still close enough that Eddie could feel his presence.

Eddie turned his head slightly and gave him the most normal smile he could manage.

Not too big.

Not too eager.

Just something that said, ‘Hey there’.

Steve hesitated a fraction of a second.

Then he nodded once.

“Munson,” he murmured.

“Harrington,” Eddie replied, steady.

Breathing. For the love of God, focus on breathing, Eddie thought over and over again.

The ceremony moved on.

“Robin Buckley.”

Robin shot up like she’d been launched.

Eddie grabbed her arm dramatically. “Don’t forget us when you’re famous!”

She laughed and shoved him off.

The cheering started immediately, her parents, some students that were on the band team with her, Chrissy was clapping loudly.

Eddie stood halfway out of his seat and whooped loudly.

“That’s my girl!”

Robin’s laugh echoed through the gym.

Even Steve clapped.

Softly.

But he did.

And Eddie noticed.

Robin came back glowing.

“You were the loudest,” she whispered.

“As I should be.”

Next after a couple of other students, “Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy beamed and stood.

Her parents cheered. Students called her name.

Robin and Eddie clapped hard.

Steve leaned forward and clapped too, louder this time.

Eddie saw the way Chrissy squeezed Steve’s arm before stepping out.

She came back and Steve hugged her tightly, she smiled at him and whispered something that Eddie couldn’t catch but it made Steve chuckle.

Then after a long stretch of time, and more names being called.

“Steve Harrington.”

Chrissy immediately exploded into cheers.

“Go, Steve!” she called, grabbing his sleeve as he stood.

Eddie couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward the bleachers.

Scanning.

Looking for something, but there was nothing.

No parents.

No family.

Just empty space where there should’ve been someone.

Something twisted painfully in his chest.

Robin cheered loudly alongside Chrissy.

Eddie stood too as soon as Steve got closer to the stage.

“Let’s go, Harrington!” he shouted before he could overthink it.

Steve faltered slightly on his way up the steps.

Just a fraction.

Like he hadn’t expected that.

He took his diploma.

Nodded stiffly.

Came back down.

Chrissy hugged him tight when he sat.

Eddie pretended not to stare.

And then after what felt like an eternity.

“Edward Munson.”

The name rang through the gym.

For a split second, everything went quiet inside him.

Then the noise hit.

Robin was on her feet instantly, shaking him violently.

“Go, Munson!”

He was laughing before he even stood.

Wayne’s voice carried over everything, “My boy!”

His friends were screaming.

Even some of their parents were clapping loudly.

It was loud. Chaotic. Beautiful.

Eddie walked up the steps with his head high.

He could see them all.

Gareth losing his mind.

Grant’s dad pumping a fist.

Wayne standing, eyes shining.

Robin screaming.

Chrissy clapping wildly.

And…

Steve.

Clapping.

Looking right at him.

Pride swelled in Eddie’s chest so hard it almost hurt.

He took the diploma.

Looked the principal dead in the eyes.

And flipped him off.

Gasps.

A sharp intake of breath from somewhere.

And then…

“Hell yeah!” from his friends, loud enough to shake the rafters.

Eddie burst out laughing and bolted back toward his seat.

“That was so fucking funny,” Robin wheezed as he dropped down beside her.

“I wanted to do that since last year,” Eddie grinned.

They laughed together, softer now.

Chrissy leaned forward and gave him a big thumbs up.

Eddie grinned back.

And then, almost unintentional, he looked at Steve.

Just for a second.

Not expecting anything.

Just checking.

And he found himself staring at a very endearing scene, Steve was smiling at him.

At him.

It was a small smile. But it was there. It was real, and it was directed at him.

Eddie’s breath caught on his throat.

But he immediately smiled back.

And for a split moment everything felt exactly right.

The aftermath went by like a blur, but Eddie still enjoyed every single moment of it.

He reunite with his friends, their families and Wayne. Even Robin and her family gather with them. They all made small talk, everyone kept congratulating them, and everything felt so right.

But then, Eddie glanced around. His eyes scanning the room full of happy families and students until it landed on one group. There it was Chrissy with her family, they were chatting animatedly, Steve was there and he looked miserable.

Eddie watched as Steve answered some questions from Chrissy parents, but it seemed as he was giving short answers. Then he hugged Chrissy, shook her parents hands and made his way out of the gym.

“Uh, I will be right back,” Eddie said to no one in particular. He didn’t even waited for an answer, he just made his way outside.

He looked around for a bit and then he spotted him.

Steve was leaning into a tree near the parking lot, he seemed out of it. Distant.

Eddie lingered, he wasn’t sure if it was the best for him to go and talk to him right now.

Fuck it, he thought after a moment.

He approached Steve slowly, he made sure to announce himself by walking through the gravel, so Steve knew he was near. Which, it seemed to have work since after a couple of loud stomps Steve’s head snap up and glanced his way.

Eddie offered him a smile, stopping with a bit of a distance, he still didn’t knew where he stood with the guy, so he had better be cautious.

“Hey,” Eddie spoke first.

Steve stared at him in silence, so Eddie started rocking back and forth in his heels.

“Uh, hey,” Steve said finally.

“Congratulations, you have successfully escape high school,” Eddie tried to sound casual, but he was sure that Steve could hear his heart pounding at his chest.

“Oh.. Um, thanks,” Steve really seemed out of it. “Congrats to you too.”

Eddie really thought about what to say next, he really hoped Steve wouldn’t snapped at him. Again.

“Are you… Um, are you alright?” he asked softly.

Eddie watched as Steve gulped and stood straighter against the tree. At that moment he brace himself for whatever Steve was going to yell at him but to his surprise, nothing came.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine,” Steve said almost in a robotic tone.

“Great,” Eddie said almost immediately, he felt stupid about it.

The silence that came afterward felt heavier than before, Eddie started to rock back and forth again, contemplating leaving when Steve spoke again.

“Do you know which cake flavor is Robin’s favorite?”

Eddie, for a reason he couldn’t understand, smiled so big it almost hurt. He even had to actively force himself to relax his face.

“It’s chocolate. With those stupid frosting flowers,” Eddie replied.

And then Steve chuckled, he actually let out a laugh. Eddie’s brain short-circuited.

“Chrissy also loves the frosting flowers,” Steve said.

That made Eddie smile back.

They stood in silence again; they seemed to not be able to articulate more than one sentence per minute. Eddie certainly couldn’t.

“Well, um… I better go back. Congratulations again,” Eddie said softly.

Steve exhaled and nodded.

“Thanks. And congratulations, Munson.”

Eddie turned around and tried to go back looking as casual as possible, but he nearly sprinted back into the gym looking for Robin.

“There you are, kid,” Wayne announced as soon as he was back.

Robin was with him and she gave him a look.

“He asked,” Eddie said simply.

And Robin nearly squeaked.

Wayne looked at them with a very confused look but didn’t asked any questions.

“I am very, very proud of you Eds,” Wayne said once Eddie turn to him.

And Eddie could already feel the tears form again.

“You already told me that,” he said smiling.

Wayne choked out a laugh and pulled him into a hug.

Eddie felt so happy right now. He actually did it.

Chapter Text

Saying that Eddie felt like a king was an understatement.

He really felt on top of the world right now. All the people that he cared for were here, celebrating him.

Celebrating the fact that he made it.

The atmosphere felt so light, but it was buzzing with excitement and happiness. Everyone was having a great time and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else in the whole world at this moment. Being around them lifted that heavy feeling that he had been carrying with him for the past month, all of his problems had disappeared for now, and Eddie was really enjoying himself.

Everyone had left the school after the ceremony had ended, and they gathered at Eddie and Wayne’s trailer. Eddie had brought out some old plastic chairs and a folding table, so now everyone was sitting around the table that was full of snacks and beverages that people had brought to share.

It was a small celebration, the only things that even indicated what was for was a handwritten banner that they had duct taped to a side of the trailer that read “Happy Life 2 The Graduates!”

But for Eddie it was perfect.

For a long time, Eddie hadn’t let himself imagine this day going well.

He had pictured it a dozen different ways over the years, most of them ending with him not making it at all. Dropping out. Disappearing. Becoming the cautionary tale teachers would whisper about when warning freshmen what not to become.

Instead, he was here.

Still loud. Still himself. Still standing.

He’d walked across that stage with his head high and a grin on his face, diploma in hand, middle finger raised like a banner.

And they had cheered.

Actually cheered.

It felt like something inside him, something that had been bracing for years, finally unclenched.

For once, he didn’t feel like the extra piece that didn’t quite fit anywhere.

Later, as Eddie was halfway through retelling the principal incident for the fifth time, adding extra dramatic flair with each retelling, he caught Robin’s eye.

She was laughing, head tipped back, cheeks flushed from sun and soda and happiness.

God, he loved her. He, in fact, love everyone that is here right now.

It hit him suddenly how rare this was.

Not the graduation, but the feeling.

The feeling of belonging without earning it. Without performing for it.

Nobody here expected him to tone it down. Nobody asked him to be quieter, cleaner, smaller.

They liked him loud and messy. They liked him.

That realization made his chest feel too tight and too open at the same time. And suddenly, the happiness inside him felt too big. Too full.

He stood abruptly. “Ice run,” he announced, pointing at no one in particular.

Gareth booed.

“You’ve told the story already!” Jeff shouted.

Eddie flipped him off affectionately and headed inside.

Robin followed a second later.

The trailer felt cool compared to the summer air outside. The hum of the refrigerator filled the space as Eddie yanked open the freezer and started attacking an ice tray.

Robin leaned against the counter, studying him.

“You’re scheming,” she said.

“I’m glowing,” Eddie corrected.

“You’re scheming and glowing.”

He cracked the tray harder than necessary. Ice clattered into the bowl.

“Hey,” he said casually. Too casually. “You think Chrissy would wanna hang with us?”

Robin’s brows lifted.

“Define ‘hang.’”

“Like… hang hang.” He shrugged, refusing to look at her. “Invite her. And, uh. Tell Steve.”

Robin went very still.

“Do you think he’d come?” she asked carefully.

Eddie shrugged again, jaw tight. “I dunno.”

Which was the truth.

He didn’t know.

Today, he’d smiled at him on stage. Clapped for him even. They had a normal conversation for the first time.

That had to mean something.

Right?

Robin watched him for a long moment.

“You’re brave today,” she said softly.

Eddie huffed. “I flipped off the principal in front of two hundred people. I’m riding that high.”

But his hands were shaking now, just slightly, as he scooped the ice.

Robin bumped his shoulder.

“I’ll ask.”

Eddie let out a soft breath he didn’t even knew he was holding. He turned to Robin and smile softly at her.

“Thanks. You know where the phone is,” he said as he finished refilling the ice.

“Yup,” Robin was already making her way to it.

And with that Eddie went back outside, he didn’t even knew why he asked that, but he did, so now he needed to act normal, casual. He will not be getting his hopes up.

It had seemed like a brilliant idea thirty seconds ago, it was bold, effortless, king-of-the-world Eddie, inviting whoever the hell he wanted to the celebration.

Now?

Now he was standing in his own yard, surrounded by laughter and music and the smell of cheap beer, and all he could think about was the possibility of Steve Harrington saying no.

What if he didn’t come?

What if Chrissy came alone?

What if Steve thought it was weird?

What if he thought Eddie was weird?

His brain was suddenly very loud.

It was ridiculous how much this mattered.

Steve Harrington coming to a trailer park graduation party should not feel like a life-altering event.

And yet.

There was something about today that made Eddie hope in a way that scared him.

Hope was dangerous.

Hope was the thing that had made him repeat senior year instead of walking away.

Hope was the thing that had made him answer Steve’s calls those nights.

And now he was doing it again.

Hoping.

He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and forced himself to laugh at something Gareth said.

If Steve didn’t come, the world wouldn’t end. But it would sting more than he wanted it to.

Nope, he had to stop, nothing would ruin this day for him.

But still, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling making its way through his chest.

After a couple of minutes Robin came back outside, Eddie glanced at her and she smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

Now, Eddie could only wait and see.

He tried to join Gareth and Jeff’s conversation about whether the principal was legally allowed to ban Eddie from future alumni events, but he couldn’t focus. Every time headlights flickered down the road, his stomach flipped.

After what felt like an eternity, he heard Robin shout a ‘Hey there!’ and Eddie’s head snapped to his right so fast he was afraid he might had broken his neck.

But once his eyes landed on the path, he could see them. Two figures appeared at the end of the dirt path.

They did come.

Chrissy first, bright and easy, hair catching the last of the sun.

Steve a step behind her.

Hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets, like he wasn’t sure where to put himself.

Eddie’s heart tried to exit his body.

He wiped his palms on his jeans and stood up too fast.

“Hey!” he called out, aiming for casual and landing somewhere in the neighborhood of overly loud.

Chrissy beamed. “Congratulations again!”

She hugged him without hesitation, arms tight around his shoulders.

Eddie laughed, a little breathless. “You were there, Cunningham.”

“Still counts.”

Then Steve stepped forward.

There was a second where neither of them moved.

It stretched.

Too long.

Eddie could feel everyone vaguely noticing.

Then Steve lifted his chin slightly.

“Nice stunt back there by the way,” he said.

Eddie grinned. “Couldn’t resist.”

Steve huffed a small laugh.

It did something stupid to Eddie’s chest.

Jesus, Eddie. Get it together.

Just as Eddie was about to say something stupid because his brain felt cloudy and he usually speaks without thinking, Wayne appeared from behind him, wiping his hands on a rag and he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re the Harrington boy, right?”

Steve straightened immediately. “Uh, yes, sir.”

Wayne nodded once. “Heard your name called today. That’s somethin’ to be proud of.”

Steve blinked.

Eddie saw it happen, the way the compliment landed like something unfamiliar. Like it didn’t know where to settle.

“Thanks,” Steve said, quieter now. “I, uh… yeah.”

Eddie tilted his head slightly; he so desperately wanted to know what Steve was thinking.

There was something about the way Steve stood there, like he was bracing for impact, that made Eddie ache in a way he didn’t fully understand. Steve Harrington, bracing, but for what? For rejection? For mockery? For someone to remind him that this wasn’t his crowd?

Eddie suddenly felt fiercely protective of something that technically wasn’t his to protect.

“Well, welcome kid, and congratulations again,” Wayne flashed him a smile, patted Eddie’s shoulder and went back to where everyone else was gathered.

Steve stood there, speechless. Eddie wasn’t sure what to say, he looked really out of it.

“Um, want something to drink?” Eddie asked, his voice came out softer than he intended to.

But it did seemed to break Steve’s spell and his eyes snapped back on him.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered.

“Right his way,” Eddie motion for him to follow and they both made their way to the table.

At first, Steve didn’t quite blend.

Eddie watched as he stood slightly apart from the circle, soda in hand, shoulders tight. Smiling when spoken to, nodding politely. Every time someone congratulated him, Steve reacted like it surprised him, like praise wasn’t something he was used to receiving without conditions attached.

Eddie filed that away quietly. He didn’t know why it mattered; he just had a feeling that it did.

Gareth leaned into Eddie’s side. “Why is King Steve here?”

“Yeah,” Jeff added. “Did we get upgraded to the popular gang?”

Frank squinted openly. “Is this a trap?”

Eddie elbowed him. “He graduated too, you idiots.”

“And he needs to be here with us?” Gareth asked skeptically.

“Yes, Gareth.”

Jeff tilted his head. “And Chrissy?”

“Also graduated.”

Frank crossed his arms. “Okay but like. Why here?”

Eddie hesitated half a second too long.

Gareth’s eyes narrowed. “Oh my god.”

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, glaring at him to spot talking.

A smile spread in Gareth’s face, Eddie hated the way he always clocked his shit.

Before the interrogation could continue, Wayne called Steve over to ask about his plans after summer. Jeff’s mom squeezed Steve’s shoulder again. Someone handed him a paper plate.

And slowly, incrementally, Steve loosened.

Just a bit. His movement were still stiff and very calculated. He was still adjusting, but he seemed less like he was waiting for someone to tell him he didn’t belong there.

“Just… Let’s give them a chance,” Eddie spoke quietly, he was still looking at Steve’s direction.

He wasn’t sure if his friends had hear him, but after a bit, Gareth scoffed.

“Sure, man.”

Eddie turned to them; his face must have been something else because all three of them seemed to catch something.

“We will be nice if he is nice,” Frank then said.

Gareth and Jeff nodded.

“Thanks,” Eddie smiled at them.

Later, as the sun dipped lower and the conversations split into smaller groups, Robin and Chrissy had drifted off near the trailer steps, knees almost touching. Heads bent close. Chrissy laughed softly at something Robin said, her hand lingering just a second too long on Robin’s wrist.

It wasn’t obvious.

But it was there.

Eddie caught it.

And Steve did too.

“…What?” Steve asked, following Eddie’s stare as he got closer to him.

Eddie tilted his head toward them. “You notice that?”

Steve squinted. “Notice what?”

“They’ve gotten… close.”

Steve watched them a second longer this time.

Robin said something quieter. Chrissy’s smile shifted, the atmosphere around them seemed softer. Private.

“Huh,” Steve said.

“Right?” Eddie nudged him lightly with his elbow. “I mean, they’re suddenly attached at the hip?”

Steve hesitated.

Then he simply shrugged. “Maybe they just… get each other.”

There was something careful in his tone.

Eddie glanced at him.

“You think?”

Steve’s jaw worked slightly, like he was debating something internally.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Sometimes people just click.”

The way he said it felt loaded and Eddie’s chest tightened.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Guess they do.”

Eddie forced himself to look away first. He suddenly felt like he was intruding on something fragile.

“Guess they do,” he repeated, softer.

He wondered, briefly, what it would feel like to click with someone like that.

To have it be obvious.

Simple.

Not layered with confusion and late-night phone calls and the strange heat that rushed through him every time Steve stood too close.

Silence stretched and it felt uncomfortable. Not much, but enough for Eddie to want to just say stupid things to fill it.

They weren’t friends. Not really.

They were two guys orbiting the same gravity.

Eddie cleared his throat. “You, uh. You okay being here?”

Steve looked at him sharply, surprised.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “It’s just… different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

Another hesitation.

“Good,” Steve said, quieter. “I think.”

Eddie smiled faintly.

“Cool.”

They stood there a second too long again.

A breeze kicked up, lifting the edge of the duct-taped banner. Someone turned the radio up louder, a tinny 80s pop song spilling out into the yard. Laughter overlapped. Someone spilled a drink and swore loudly.

It was chaotic and imperfect. And Eddie really felt at home.

Steve was standing in the middle of it like he was trying to decide if he was allowed to relax.

Eddie wanted to tell him he was.

Then Frank shouted from the folding table, “UNO! We’re starting UNO!”

Jeff’s little sister, Karla, slammed her cards down dramatically. “And I will never be defeated!”

Gareth cackled.

Frank looked toward Steve. “You play?”

Steve blinked, caught off guard. “Uh.”

He looked instinctively at Eddie.

Like he wasn’t sure if this was a joke.

Eddie raised his brows. “C’mon. Jeff’s sister always wins. Maybe you’ll be the one to dethrone the champion.”

From across the yard, Karla yelled, “I heard that!”

Steve actually chuckled.

The sound was warmer this time.

Less guarded.

“Fine,” he said as they made their way to the table. “But I’m not losing to a middle schooler.”

Karla gasped dramatically, pulling Eddie to sit down beside her.

Eddie grinned as Steve pulled up a plastic chair, when he sat down, their knees brushed under the table. It was accidental. Probably. But Eddie’s brain short-circuited anyway. He tried so hard to pretend he did not notice.

But Steve shifted slightly, like he also had noticed.

Gareth immediately started explaining the rules like Steve had never touched a deck of cards in his life.

“Yes, I know how to play UNO,” Steve said dryly.

“Prove it,” Karla shot back.

Steve smirked, actually smirked, and dropped a card with unnecessary flair.

Eddie laughed before he could stop himself.

It was easy, suddenly. The teasing and the arguing about whether stacking draw fours was morally acceptable came so easily.

At one point, Steve reached across the table at the same time Eddie did and their fingers bumped.

They both froze.

Just for a second.

Then Steve pulled back first.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” Eddie said quickly, way too quickly really.

Their eyes met. And there it was again.

That strange pause that felt like something was waiting.

Like something was taking its time building up.

Eddie gulped and looked away; Steve seemingly did as well. They continued playing as if nothing had happened.

After a bit, Eddie leaned back in his chair, watching Steve argue with a twelve-year-old about card game ethics, and something warm and complicated bloomed in his chest.

He didn’t know what this was.

Didn’t know if it was friendship forming or something far more dangerous.

Didn’t know if Steve was just being polite, or if he felt it too, that subtle pull, that awareness that hummed beneath every glance.

All Eddie knew was that Steve had come, he had stayed even, longer than he expected. And now he was laughing.

For tonight, that was enough to let Eddie’s heart float just a little higher than it probably should.

That stupid hope made its way through his veins again, and Eddie wasn’t ready to push the feeling away.

Chapter Text

By the time the trailer finally quieted down, it was well past one in the morning.

The night air had turned cooler, the kind that settled into the ground and made the gravel crunch louder under every step. The folding table outside was half empty now, only a few crushed soda cans, a bag of chips someone forgot to close.

Everyone had gone home hours ago, except Robin, Chrissy and… Steve.

Eddie still couldn’t quite believe that last one.

They had all migrated inside the trailer after the mosquitoes started getting bold. Wayne had gone to bed with a quiet “don’t stay up too late,” which really meant don’t burn the place down, and now the four of them were spread around the small living room.

Robin was sitting cross-legged on the floor, animatedly telling a story that involved a disastrous band rehearsal and at least three broken drumsticks.

Chrissy sat beside her, leaning forward with her chin in her hand, smiling every time Robin got dramatic with her hand gestures.

And Steve…

Steve Harrington was sitting on Eddie’s couch. Just sitting there. And he looked like it was just the most normal thing.

Like he had always been welcome.

Eddie leaned back in the armchair, trying very hard to look relaxed while his brain ran in circles.

Steve had stayed.

Every once in a while, Steve would laugh quietly at something Robin said, rubbing the back of his neck or glancing down at the floor like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself either.

Eddie noticed all of it.

The way Steve’s sneaker tapped the floor absentmindedly. The way he leaned forward when he was actually interested in the conversation. The way his voice softened when he talked to Chrissy.

Eddie was so hyperaware of him it was almost embarrassing.

After a lull in the conversation, Eddie cleared his throat.

“Uh… anyone want something to smoke?”

Robin’s head snapped up immediately.

“Is that even a question?”

“I’ve never tried it before,” Chrissy said looking around nervously.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Eddie said while getting up.

“Oh no, it’s alright,” Chrissy smiled at him.

Eddie then looked at Steve, he had already gotten some already rolled joints on his hand and lifted them in a silent question.

Steve hesitated for a second, then shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?”

Eddie tried very hard not to read into that.

A few minutes later they were sitting outside on the small steps of the trailer, passing the joints between them.

The trailer park was quiet now. Most of the trailers were dark, the occasional porch light casting soft yellow circles onto the gravel.

Robin coughed dramatically after her turn.

“Okay, wow, I forgot how strong your stuff is.”

“That’s because you have the lungs of an old lady,” Eddie said.

Chrissy laughed, leaning slightly against Robin’s shoulder.

Steve took a careful drag, holding it in for a second before exhaling slowly.

Eddie’s eyes followed the movement without permission.

The smoke curled around Steve’s face, catching the porch light.

Jesus Christ. Eddie really needed to get his shit together.

After a few rounds the conversation started drifting, becoming slower and softer.

Chrissy eventually nudged Robin with her shoulder.

“Hey. Come help me find the bathroom before I open the wrong door and meet Wayne in his pajamas.”

Robin covered her mouth to hide a laugh.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair.”

They both stood, brushing some gravel off their jeans.

Robin pointed at Eddie dramatically.

“Do not go anywhere.”

“I live here?” Eddie said a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Still.”

Then the two of them disappeared inside.

And suddenly, Eddie was very well aware that it was just him and Steve.

The quiet that followed felt enormous.

Eddie stared out at the empty road while his heartbeat picked up as if he had just run a mile. At the corner of his eye, he saw Steve leaned back on his hands beside him, looking up at the sky.

For a long moment neither of them spoke. Eddie became painfully aware of every small movement Steve made. The way he started moving his shoulders. The quiet breaths he occasionally let out. The faint smell of his shampoo mixing with cigarette smoke.

Say something, his brain was screaming. Anything.

But of course, the first thing that came out of Eddie’s mouth was, “So… uh… those phone calls.”

The moment the words left him, Eddie wanted to launch himself into traffic. Because he caught the exact moment that Steve went still.

Great, absolutely fantastic. Wonderful job, Munson.

Eddie rushed to backtrack.

“I mean, not that.. I didn’t… you don’t have to explain. Sorry, forget I even said anything,”

After a couple of seconds, Steve let out a quiet breath.

“I’m… really sorry about that.”

Eddie blinked.

That was not the reaction he expected.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the gravel.

“I don’t even know how I got your number,” he admitted. “Like, seriously. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

Eddie snorted softly. He didn’t knew what to say now, he didn’t even wanted to speak again.

Another small pause stretched between them.

Then Steve continued, his voice even quieter now.

“I don’t know why I kept calling either.”

Eddie turned slightly to look at him.

Steve looked… embarrassed. Which was a strange look on him, Eddie didn’t think he had ever seen him this way. But a part of him was relief, Steve wasn’t snapping at him, he hadn’t done that all day. And that realization made Eddie’s pulse spike again.

“I think,” Steve continued slowly, “I was just being an asshole.”

Eddie’s chest tightened.

Steve kicked a small rock with his sneaker.

“I was mean to you before too,” he added. “Back at school.”

The words hung in the air.

Eddie shrugged lightly, even though his stomach was doing flips.

“Don’t even sweat about it, Harrington.,” Eddie finally spoke. His words came out softer than he intended.

Steve glanced at him. Then he said something that made Eddie’s brain completely short-circuit.

“Do you want to be friends?”

And at that very moment, Eddie forgot how to properly breathe. Friends. His mind exploded with million thoughts all at once.

Friends.

That word actually came out of Steve’s mouth. Friends. And that meant hanging out, talking casually. Maybe even seeing him more. Maybe sitting like this again.

Maybe…

Stop.

Eddie forced himself to stay calm. To act normal, be casual. To pretend his heart wasn’t doing gymnastics inside his ribcage.

“Yeah,” Eddie said almost out of breath, scratching the back of his neck.

Luckily Steve was just under the influence of enough weed that he didn’t really noticed Eddie spiraling.

Eddie then clear his throat, “Yeah, man. We could… we could be friends.”

Steve smiled.

It was small, but real.

Eddie thought he might actually die. Had to really focus and hold himself from saying something stupid again, his brain was already foggy, and he could be a loose talker when he smoke so much.

And just then, it actually hit him. They were smoking. Steve was smoking, and he might not remember this. Again.

That was a thought Eddie did not want to entertain.

Just then the trailer door swung open.

Robin and Chrissy stumbled out, giggling like they had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

Both boys turned to them.

“What took you so long?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, you were there for a hot minute,” Eddie added suspiciously.

Robin waved a hand dismissively.

“Girl stuff.”

Chrissy nodded very seriously.

“Very important girl stuff.”

That only made them laugh harder.

Steve shook his head.

“Well,” he said, standing and stretching. “We should probably head home.”

Chrissy groaned softly but stood up.

“Ugh, me too. Is so late already,” Robin groaned.

They said their goodbyes on the small porch.

Robin hugged Eddie tightly.

“Graduated man,” she said proudly.

“Graduated woman,” Eddie said back smiling.

Chrissy then came closer and hugged him as well.

“I am proud of all of us,” she said.

Then Steve stepped forward.

For a second neither of them seemed sure what to do.

Steve settled for a small nod.

“See you around, Munson.”

Eddie grinned.

“See you around, Harrington.”

And as Eddie watched them walk down the gravel road under the dim streetlights, one thought kept repeating in his head.

Steve Harrington wants to be my friend.

And somehow that felt just as terrifying as it did wonderful. But maybe, just maybe, he could make this work. He never actually thought he could possibly get this close to him, so yeah.

Maybe he could live with this.

***

The drive home felt strangely quiet.

Steve kept the radio off.

Normally he would have it on, something loud to fill the silence, but tonight his head was already too full. The hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of tires over gravel roads was more than enough.

His fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel.

He had graduated today. The thought still felt unreal. High school was over, four years that had somehow felt both endless and way too short were just over now. And now Steve had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do next.

He felt like he had been pushed off a cliff without a map.

Steve turned onto his street and slowed the car, the familiar houses appearing one by one under the dim streetlights. When he finally pulled into his driveway, the house was exactly how he expected it to be.

Dark and empty.

As soon as he entered the driveway, he turned off the engine but didn’t get out of the car right away.

His parents weren’t home, not that he had expected them to be. They had made it clear that they weren’t going to be home for at least a couple of days more. His dad was probably still on a business trip, and his mom was likely at some charity dinner or visiting friends in Indianapolis again.

Steve rested his head back against the seat and stared at the ceiling of the car.

He wondered, briefly, if they even remembered what day it was. They did left a note, but they wrote it in advanced.

After a moment he pushed the thought away.

Whatever.

He had gotten used to it a long time ago.

Steve finally stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door, unlocking it and stepping into the quiet house.

The silence inside felt different from the one at Eddie’s place.

At Eddie’s trailer, the silence had come after laughter. After people talking over each other. After Robin’s dramatic storytelling and Chrissy’s giggles and Eddie’s uncle clapping Eddie on the back like he had just won the lottery.

Here, the silence just felt… empty. There wasn’t anything before it and there wouldn’t be anything after.

Steve tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and leaned against it.

For a second he just stood there.

Then his mind drifted back to earlier that night.

To Eddie’s trailer.

To the small folding table covered in snacks.

To the crooked banner taped to the side that read “Happy Life 2 The Graduates!”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh.

It had been ridiculous. The cheap decorations, the plastic chairs, all those people sitting on coolers.

And somehow…

It had been one of the nicest celebrations he had ever been part of.

Everyone had been so… happy.

Not just for Eddie, given that they were there to celebrate him, they were just happy in general. They all even congratulated him and Chrissy, and they didn’t known them, but they were so quick to include them.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. That part had caught him off guard in many ways. Wayne had shaken his hand and told him he should be proud of himself. Eddie had dragged him into conversations like he belonged there. Even Eddie’s friends had congratulated him after everything he had done.

They all did it like it was normal. Like Steve being there made sense.

Steve swallowed.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said they were proud of him.

The thought sat heavily in his chest.

But then another memory pushed forward. The two of them sitting on the trailer steps, the night quiet around them and then Eddie asking about the phone calls.

Steve groaned softly and dragged a hand down his face.

God, that had been embarrassing.

He still didn’t understand why he had been calling Eddie. He barely remembered half of those nights.

Just flashes.

Late hours.

Too much weed.

The sound of Eddie’s confused voice on the other end of the phone.

Steve sighed and walked into the living room, dropping onto the couch.

But what he did remember clearly was what he had said tonight.

Do you want to be friends?

Steve stared at the ceiling.

He had actually said that.

To Eddie Munson.

A guy he had spent years ignoring or being a jerk to. A guy who somehow still looked at him like…

Like that.

That was the problem.

Steve didn’t understand what was going on with him lately.

Everything in his life felt like it had flipped upside down.

A year ago he had a girlfriend, a group of friends, a plan, even if it wasn’t a great one.

Now?

He was smoking weed behind a trailer at one in the morning and asking Eddie Munson if they could be friends.

And the worst part was that he actually meant it. Even though his brain was all cloudy because of the weed he knew that those words were real, he actually wanted to be, in a sort of way, closer to Eddie.

Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

He had a good time tonight. A really good time. He had laughed and he even felt himself relaxed a bit. Steve had felt included.

And when Eddie had said yes…

Steve frowned slightly.

Something in his chest had done this weird little flip.

Which was confusing.

Annoying.

And frankly kind of frustrating.

Because Steve did not understand why Eddie Munson suddenly seemed to occupy so much space in his brain.

The way he talked.

The way he smiled when he was excited.

The way his eyes lit up when his friends were around.

Steve groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

None of this made sense.

Everything felt different.

Like his whole life had quietly turned in another direction while he wasn’t looking.

And Steve had absolutely no clue where that direction was supposed to lead.

But one thing kept echoing in his mind.

See you around, Munson.

Steve leaned back into the couch again, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow would probably feel weird.

Potentially running into Eddie somewhere.

Knowing they had said that.

Friends.

Steve exhaled slowly.

Yeah, everything felt surreal.

Chapter Text

The following weeks felt like a daydream to Eddie.

He woke up without dread sitting heavy on his chest. He didn’t have to drag himself out of bed knowing he had somewhere he didn’t belong to go to.

School was over. Like, actually over. And for the first time in a long time, Eddie felt like he was moving forward instead of just trying to survive the same loop over and over again.

He got a job.

That still felt weird to say out loud.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small music shop almost outside of town. The kind of place that smelled like old wood and vinyl, with guitars hanging on the walls and stacks of records that hadn’t been touched in years.

But Eddie loved it.

The first time he walked in, he hadn’t even meant to ask for a job. He’d just gone in to look around, fingers itching to touch every instrument in sight. The owner had caught him tuning a guitar without asking and instead of kicking him out, he’d just squinted at him and gone, “You know what you’re doing?”

Eddie had grinned and went on a rant about guitars. And somehow, that had been enough.

Now he spent his days surrounded by music, occasionally helping customers, occasionally arguing about bands, and sometimes just sitting behind the counter strumming whatever guitar he could get his hands on. And that feeling, that quiet, steady contentment, had settled into his bones in a way he wasn’t used to.

Still, there were some moments. Like now.

Robin kicked his sneaker lightly where he was sprawled across her bedroom floor.

“You’re doing it again.”

Eddie didn’t even open his eyes. “Doing what.”

“That thing where you stare at nothing and look like you’re either about to confess your love or commit a crime.”

Eddie snorted. “Those are two very different outcomes, Buckley.”

“Are they?”

He cracked one eye open to look at her. She was sitting cross-legged, watching him with that look.

The one that meant she knew something, or thought she did, which was arguably worse.

“I’m thinking,” Eddie said.

“You’re spiraling,” she corrected.

“I am not spiraling.”

“You’ve been quiet for, like, ten whole minutes.”

“That’s normal.”

“For you? Absolutely not.”

Eddie huffed and sat up, dragging a hand through his hair.

Robin tilted her head, studying him. “So, you gonna tell me what happened on the porch now?” she said casually.

Eddie groaned, she had been constantly nagging about that for the last couple of weeks and he didn’t knew what to tell her since well nothing happened but that didn’t seemed to be a great answer for her.

“Nothing happened.”

“Mhm.”

“We just talked.”

“Yeah. I gathered that from the whole you two sitting alone in the dark for twenty minutes thing.”

Eddie felt his face heat up. “It wasn’t twenty minutes and it was your fault we were alone, let me remind you that.”

Robin raised a brow. “You are totally avoiding my questions.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“We just finally hit it off, it was nice talking,” he admitted.

She grinned. “And?”

Eddie hesitated.

Because the thing was it had been something. It had been quiet and weird and awkward in that way that didn’t feel bad, just… loaded.

And then Steve had… Eddie pressed his lips together.

“He apologized, again,” he said finally.

Robin nodded, urging him to continue.

“For the calls. For being an ass.”

Robin’s expression shifted, softer now. “Huh.”

“Yeah. ‘Huh,’” Eddie echoed.

“And?”

Eddie looked at her, there was truly no escaping her.

“He asked if we could be friends.”

Robin went very still. “Oh my god.”

“Do not…”

“Oh my god,” she repeated, louder this time. “Steve Harrington asked you to be friends? Like actual friends?”

“Yes,” Eddie snapped, already regretting telling her.

“That’s huge!”

“Is it?”

“Yes!”

Eddie flopped back against the floor with a groan. “It’s terrifying.”

Robin laughed. “You’re unbelievable, this is literally what you’ve been dreaming of.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, staring up at the ceiling. “But I don’t know how friendly he meant, like are we gonna hang out, like one on one?”

Robin hummed. “Well, ask him. You have his number.”

“Robin.”

“What? You are friendly now,” she leaned back on her hands, glancing at him, “But, dude, he seemed pretty comfortable the last time we hang out, maybe you have a bigger chance now.”

Eddie paused.

That… That was kind of true.

“And he was the one to offer his friendship in the first place,” she added.

Eddie exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

“So maybe stop overthinking it and just let it happen?” Robin nudged his foot again.

Eddie turned his head to look at her.

“Since when are you the reasonable one?”

“Since you started acting like a disaster.”

“Rude.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his mouth.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe he could just… let it be what it was.

He lasted exactly four days before he showed up at Family Video after Robin had announce to him that she got the job. Not that he would admit the real reason he was avoiding it.

“Robin!” he called out as he pushed the door open, the bell chiming overhead.

Robin popped up from behind the counter immediately.

“Took you long enough.”

“Wow. Not even a hello?”

“Hello. You could have visit me sooner.”

Eddie scoffed. “Well, I am here now.”

“Mhm.” She leaned forward slightly. “Or you’re here for a different reason that is not me.”

Eddie ignored that completely and wandered further inside, pretending to browse. The place smelled faintly like plastic cases and carpet cleaner. Rows of tapes lined the walls, bright covers facing outward.

“Where’s your selection of…”

He stopped. Because he saw him. Steve was in one of the aisles, crouched slightly as he reorganized a shelf. His Family Video vest looked weirdly right on him, like he belonged there. Eddie’s stomach did that thing again.

Damn it.

Steve glanced up, catching sight of him. There was a flicker of something, surprise, maybe, but then his mouth tilted slightly.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Steve.”

There it was. That weird, electric pause. And Eddie didn’t knew he was going to be able to act normal now that Steve is calling him by his name, not Munson but Eddie, it felt strange, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t liked it.

“You, uh,” Steve straightened, brushing his hands on his jeans, “you renting something?”

“Considering it,” Eddie said. “Thought I’d expand my horizons.”

“Wow. Big step.”

“I know. Be gentle with me.”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh. And it settled something in Eddie’s chest, just a little.

Robin made a loud, exaggerated noise from the counter, but neither of them looked at her.

“So,” Eddie said, rocking back on his heels, “didn’t know you worked here.”

That was a complete lie, Eddie obviously knew, it was literally the first thing Robin had told him after she announced that she had got the job. And it was the reason he had to mentally prepare to come and visit.

“Yeah. Needed a job.” Steve shrugged. “Figured this was easy enough.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

A beat passed and then…

“You like it?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked. That caught him completely off guard.

“Uh, yeah, it suits you. I always thought you were a movie guy,” he said and then immediately started to add more. “Got a job at this music shop. It’s… actually really good.”

Steve’s expression softened slightly. “That’s cool, it suits you too.”

“Yeah.”

Then, another pause. God, why was this so hard? They’d literally agreed to be friends. Friends talked. Friends did not stand in the middle of a video store acting like they’d never spoken before in their lives.

Eddie cleared his throat. “So, uh. You remember…”

He stopped himself.

Steve tilted his head. “Remember what?”

Eddie stared at him for half a second. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Never mind.”

Steve frowned slightly, like he was trying to piece something together. Before he could, Robin slammed her hands on the counter.

“Okay, I cannot watch this anymore.”

Both of them turned to her.

“You two are being weird.”

“We are not…” Eddie started.

“What?” Steve said at the same time.

They both stopped.

Robin pointed between them. “This. This right here? Weird.”

Eddie scoffed. “We’re having a normal conversation.”

“You’re circling each other like nervous cats.”

“Robin,” Eddie warned.

“I’m just saying!” she threw her hands up. “You already had your moment, why are we back to square one?”

Eddie choked. “Our what?”

Steve went very still.

Robin blinked. “Oh,” she said. “Oops.”

Silence dropped like a brick.

Eddie turned slowly to look at Steve and he was already looking at him. And there it was again, that same charged space between them. And neither of them knew what to do with it now.

Eddie swallowed.

“So, um…” he started, then stopped.

Steve exhaled softly. “I do remember, by the way,” he said.

Eddie blinked.

“Yeah?”

Steve nodded once, a little more sure this time.

“Yeah.”

Something warm spread through Eddie’s chest, relief made its way through his bones. Robin made a strangled noise behind the counter.

“Okay, great,” she said quickly. “Love this. Love whatever this is. Please continue, I’ll just be over here, minding my business.” And she, very obviously, did not mind her business.

Eddie huffed a laugh despite himself.

Steve also smiled from where he was still organizing tapes.

And just like that, it now felt a little bit easier.

Chapter Text

Going to Family Video was now part of Eddie’s daily routine. He had decided to finally put his anxiousness aside and tried to be as normal as possible around Steve. And, apparently, it has been working.

As Eddie made his way into the store, the bell announced his arrival making both Robin and Steve turn into his direction, and they both smiled at him.

“I have arrived!” Eddie said loud, bowing dramatically.

“Hey,” Robin greeted him and then continued with her previous task.

Steve however was still looking at him, a small smile tugging his lips and Eddie approached him.

“Eddie,” he nodded his head slightly.

“Hey Steve,” Eddie smiled as he tapped his fingers on the counter.

They stood there in silence for a bit, neither of them knowing what to say, until Robin spoke, seemingly unaware of the tension between them.

“Eddie, when are you playing again?” she asked, making her way to the front of the store, multiple boxes of tapes on her hands.

“This Friday actually,” Eddie answered excitedly. “I actually was hoping you too could come, it would be a great addition to our usual crowd.”

Robin nodded excitedly, then Eddie turned back to Steve, who was now closer than before, or was Eddie closer to him? Regardless, it kind of made him jump a bit.

“So, what do you say?” Eddie asked expectantly. He had to hide his hands on his jacket as they started to shake.

“Uh, sure. Just, not really my type of music,” Steve said, a hand stroking the back of his neck.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, we will turn you to the dark side before you even notice.” Steve chuckled at that, making Eddie’s smile grow.

It was genuinely nice having these conversations with him, Eddie was finally breaking some of the hard cover that he usually had and getting to know the actual Steve. But this closeness made nothing to soothe his still growing crush on the man.

“Robin knows the address, you two could ride together if you want,” Eddie said after a beat, glancing at Robin who gave them a thumbs up from where she was organizing the tapes.

“Cool.”

And know Eddie must rehearse every song lyric he has ever written as if the most important person in the world was going to be there. Which to Eddie, he would be.

***

“Why are you being so fucking anxious, man?” Gareth asked once his patient was finally broken, they have been watching Eddie walk in circles around their tiny backstage room and it was driving them nuts.

“I am not.”

Frank and Jeff shared a look, Gareth snorted loudly.

“Uh huh and I’m the king of England,” Gareth retorted. “Stay still man, you are making me dizzy.”

“Dis you finally invited someone special?” Jeff asked wiggling his eyebrows comedically, Frank whistled at his side.

Eddie finally stopped dead in his tracks and started chewing his fingernails. He was in fact anxious, but his friends do not have to know that.

“I might have invited… Steve,” Eddie practically whispered that last part.

The three guys stayed still for a long beat, as if processing the information Eddie just dropped on them.

“What the fuck?” Gareth was the first to speak.

“Listen, we have been cool for a while, and he works with Robin,” Eddie was quick to explain, earning more confused looks from his band mates.

“Since when are you cool with the Steve Harrington?” Jeff asked now.

“Well, he did invited him to the graduation party,” Frank spoke before Eddie could.

“Can we not talk about this right now? We are almost up,” Eddie said, finally taking a seat at the couch. The boys shoot him smug smiles, but they seemingly dropped the topic.

The couch did nothing to help. Sitting only made the energy coil tighter inside his chest, like a spring wound too far. Eddie bounced his knee, then both knees, then stood up again almost immediately.

“Jesus Christ,” Gareth muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re gonna wear a hole through the floor.”

Eddie ignored him, peeking through the crack in the door for what had to be the tenth time. The bar was already packed, more than usual and the low hum of chatter pressed in on him. Sticky floors, cheap beer, the familiar buzz of amps warming up. Normally, it grounded him, but tonight, it just made everything louder. He scanned the crowd quickly, heart climbing up his throat.

There was no Steve still, nor Robin really. Which was fine. Perfect, actually. He could have a bit more time. Eddie dropped the curtain and immediately started pacing again.

“Dude,” Jeff said, not even looking up from where he started tuning his bass, “if you pass out before we go on, I’m not carrying you.”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” Eddie snapped, a little too quickly.

Frank snorted. “You look like you might.” Eddie flipped him off, but it lacked its usual bite. His fingers were still trembling, so he shoved both hands into his jacket pockets again.

This was stupid. Why was he so fucking nervous? It was just Steve, his friend. Steve, who leaned too close when he talked. Steve, who started smiling at him like he actually liked him. Steve, who laughed at his jokes, his stupid jokes. Steve who agreed to come listen to his band even though he had never listened to this type of music. Eddie pressed his lips together.

“Hey,” Gareth said, softer now. “You good?”

Eddie nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… crowd looks bigger tonight.”

“Sure, is just that and not Steve,” Jeff said.

Eddie huffed out a weak grunt, but it didn’t stick. He went for another peek through the curtain. And this time…

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Steve was there. Of course he was there. And he wasn’t alone obviously, Robin… and Chrissy? They were standing at the very front of the crowd. Eddie’s stomach actually dropped to his ass.

Steve stood there, painfully out of place, one hand shoved in his jacket pocket, the other loosely holding a drink. Next to him was Robin, animated as always, talking with her hands. Chrissy was in between them both, Robin leaned into her, shoulder brushing shoulder, and Eddie felt a tiny, unexpected smirk tug at his lips despite the storm currently wrecking his insides.

Not the time. Definitely not the time. Because Steve…

Steve was looking around the room, like he was searching for something. For him. Eddie ducked back behind the curtain like he’d been burned.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, dragging both hands down his face. “Okay, okay, okay, he’s here. He’s here.”

“No shit,” Gareth said. “You invited him.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think he’d actually…” Eddie cut himself off, groaning. “Whatever.” He swallowed.

“Five minutes!” someone shouted from outside.

Right. Right, the show. Music. Focus. Eddie grabbed his guitar like it was the only solid thing in the room and slung the strap over his shoulder. His fingers were still shaky, but muscle memory kicked in as he adjusted the tuning pegs.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Gareth said, nudging him with his elbow.

Eddie nodded, even though his heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, I know.”

But as they lined up to go onstage, Eddie couldn’t help himself. One last glance through the curtain.

Steve was still there. Still looking towards the stage. And when their eyes almost, almost, met, Eddie jerked back again, breath catching.

“Eds,” Jeff said, already heading out, “You coming or what?”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut for half a second. Then he followed. The lights hit him all at once. Too bright. Too hot. But it was perfect. The noise of the crowd swelled, cheers mixing with the low feedback of the amps, and for a split second, Eddie just stood there, feeling electrified.

Then, his eyes found Steve’s. It was like his brain locked onto him instantly, cutting through everything else. Eddie’s fingers tightened around the neck of his guitar.

Don’t mess this up.

Don’t. Mess. This. Up.

He leaned into the mic, forcing a grin that felt only slightly unhinged.

“Alright, Hawkins,” he said, voice a little rough but steady enough. “Let’s see if you can keep up tonight.”

The first chord rang out. And then something clicked. The nerves didn’t disappear, not completely, but they shifted. Transformed into something sharper, louder. The music took over, crawling under his skin, guiding his hands, his voice.

Still, every time he dared to look up, his eyes went straight back to Steve. And he was watching. Not bored or distracted, he was actually focused. Like he was actually… into it. That did absolutely nothing to help Eddie’s ability to function like a normal human being.

He almost missed a lyric. But recovered, but his heart spiked, and he shot another glance toward the front row, and Steve was smiling, he was even bobbing his head to the music and laughing at Robin who tried to sing along. Eddie’s stomach flipped so violently he had to look away before he completely lost his place.

Jesus Christ.

By the third song, sweat clung to his skin, curls sticking to his forehead, and his voice was rougher now, but stronger, too. The crowd was louder, feeding into the energy, and Eddie leaned into it, letting himself get lost just enough. He dragged a hand through his hair between songs, breathing hard as Gareth started the next intro.

“Having too much fun?” Gareth muttered under his breath as he passed.

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “I think I might die.”

“Not before the last set, you’re not.”

By the time they finished, Eddie felt like he’d been wrung out completely. The final chord rang out, the crowd cheered, and Eddie forced a bow, dramatic, exaggerated, so familiar. But his eyes were already scanning and finding Steve, clapping. Robin next to him, yelling something he couldn’t hear over the noise. And even Chrissy beaming, her hands cupped around her mouth as she cheered.

And Steve, he looked… impressed. Eddie’s chest tightened, he ducked offstage before he could overthink it. Back in the cramped room, the noise dulled to a muffled roar.

“Dude,” Gareth said immediately, grabbing his shoulders, “You did not just almost eat shit during the second song.”

“I did not…”

“You did,” Jeff cut in, laughing.

Eddie groaned, dropping onto the couch again, adrenaline still buzzing under his skin. “Shut up. I recovered.”

“Barely.”

Frank tossed him a bottle of water. “Your best friend over there seemed into it.”

Eddie choked on air. “He is not my…”

“All I’m saying,” Frank continued, holding his hands up, “is that he didn’t look bored.”

Eddie pressed the cold bottle to his forehead. That somehow made it worse.

Out in the crowd, Steve leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely, still staring at the, now, empty stage. His ears were ringing.

“Okay,” Robin said beside him, nudging his arm, “So?”

Steve blinked, like he’d forgotten she was there. “So what?”

“So, Eddie…?” she said, dragging his name out.

Steve huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah. He’s… Uh, he’s good.”

“Good?” Chrissy cut in, grinning. “That was way more than good.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just…” He trailed off. Because he didn’t really have the words for it. For the way Eddie had looked on stage, so different, but also more himself than Steve had ever seen. Not that he had paid close attention to him before, but now he was loud and unapologetic and completely in control in a way that made something twist low in Steve’s stomach. It was confusing...

Annoyingly confusing.

Robin watched him carefully, something knowing flickering in her eyes.

“Oh,” she said softly.

Steve frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite hide it.

Chrissy bumped her shoulder into Robin’s, their hands brushing, then lingering for just a second too long.

Steve noticed that. He glanced between them, brow furrowing slightly, but before he could say anything his eyes drifted back to the stage door.

Waiting. Without really meaning to.

And when it didn’t open right away, Steve shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t even sure why he was so nervous now, Eddie and he had been somewhat friends for a little while now. Friends. He shouldn’t feel nervous around him.

Why was he so fucking anxious?

“You alright?” Chrissy asked giving him a worried look. “Is your ear…”

“It’s fine, I am alright,” Steve said quickly. “Really,” he assured her when she didn’t seem convinced.

Because he should be fine, he just came here to support a friend. Just that.

“Hey there!” someone shouted and Steve had never turned his head so fast in his entire life, because it was Eddie, he was standing near them, his band mates trailing behind him.

Steve nearly tripped over nothing as he, for some reason he doesn’t even understand, walked towards the guy.

“You were amazing,” he said, lifting his hand to clap it with Eddie’s, who looked taken aback but offered his hand, nonetheless.

“Thanks.”

Oh, and the way his cheeks reddened should not had have the reaction that flowed through his veins, warming it way through him. And suddenly, as he got painfully aware of his actions he retracted, shoving his way behind Robin and Chrissy. He caught the way Eddie’s eyes flickered, something that he couldn’t quite grasp flashed over them, but he quickly shook it off as the two girls congratulated him and his friends.

Steve doesn’t catch who idea it was, but someone suggested some shots and he was quick to accept. He would take anything to just fucking relax.

The first shot burned all the way down and Steve happily welcomed it. “Again,” he muttered, already reaching for the next one before the sting had even faded. Anything to quiet the noise in his head. The music was over, the crowd louder now in that messy, post-show way, people talking over each other, laughing too hard, bodies packed too close.

Too much.

“Slow down, Harrington,” Robin said, eyeing him as she took a much more reasonable sip of her own drink. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I’m fine,” Steve shot back a little too quickly, grabbing the second shot and knocking it back.

He wasn’t fine.

That was the problem. Because every time he tried to settle, his eyes drifted. Across the room. Automatically. Like something was pulling them there whether he wanted it or not.

Eddie.

Eddie who had separated from the group a bit ago and was now surrounded by other people. Gareth slung an arm over his shoulders, some girl saying something that made him laugh, head thrown back, curls damp with sweat, cheeks flushed from the performance. He looked… good.

Too good.

And Steve hated that he noticed. Hated that it stuck. Hated that it did something weird to his chest, tight, then warm, then tight again.

“What is your deal?” Chrissy asked, nudging him harder than she should have.

Steve dragged his gaze away, jaw tightening. “I don’t have a deal.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t,” he insisted, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I just…” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “This place is hot.”

Chrissy glanced around, unimpressed. “It’s literally always like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve muttered, grabbing his drink again even though he didn’t really want it anymore. “Still.”

Chrissy watched him for a second longer, then her eyes flicked past him, over his shoulder. Her expression shifted, just slightly.

“Mm,” she hummed as a smirk appeared on her lips.

Steve frowned immediately. “What now?”

“Nothing,” she said, but it came with a small, knowing smile that immediately put him on edge.

He turned anyway, and of course there he was.

Eddie had finally broken away from his friends, weaving through the crowd toward them. Toward him. His jacket hung loose over his shoulders now, hair still a mess, a little out of breath like he hadn’t quite come down from the stage yet.

And for some reason Steve’s stomach dropped. Which was stupid, so fucking stupid.

“Hey,” Eddie said when he reached them, it came out soft, barely audible among the music, like the energy from the stage had dimmed but not disappeared completely.

“Hey there,” Steve said, and he hated how his voice sounded, his words slurred.

“Wow, drunk already?” Eddie snorted.

“Shut up.”

Eddie’s grin only widened at that, easy and familiar, like he’d already decided Steve being like this was something to poke at.

“Lightweight,” he added, bumping his shoulder lightly against him.

Steve shoved him back, harder than necessary. “Am not.”

“Sure you’re not,” Eddie shot back, still smiling, but there was a flicker of something sharper underneath it now, and he still couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Guys,” Robin cut in, “Maybe don’t start a fight in the middle of a bar?”

“We’re not fighting,” Steve said immediately.

“We’re not fighting,” Eddie echoed at the same time.

They both paused. Robin raised an eyebrow while Chrissy snorted.

“Okay,” Chrissy said, clapping her hands once, way too cheerful. “You two clearly have… whatever that is going on, so, Robin?”

Robin blinked at her. “What?”

Chrissy tilted her head toward the other side of the bar. “Didn’t you say you wanted to check out the jukebox? Or, something? Away from… this?”

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah, I did say that,” she nodded, already grabbing Chrissy’s wrist. “Come on.”

Chrissy let herself be pulled, but not before throwing Steve one last look. Not teasing this time, something more concerned. Steve ignored it.

“Don’t kill each other!” Robin called over her shoulder as they disappeared into the crowd.

And just like that it was quiet. Well, not actually quiet, the bar was still loud as hell, but quieter. Different, and that shift made Steve head starting to spin. It was just them now, practically.

Steve shifted his weight, suddenly very aware of how close Eddie was standing. Close enough that their shoulders brushed again when someone shoved past behind them. And Eddie didn’t move away this time.

“Wow,” he said after a second. “Our  friends just ditched us.”

Steve huffed out a laugh despite himself. It came out rough, a little uneven. “Yeah.”

A beat.

Then another.

Steve took a sip of his drink just to have something to do. The ringing in his ear spiked suddenly, sharp and high, and he winced, pressing his shoulder up toward it instinctively.

Eddie noticed.

“Your ear?” he asked, the teasing gone now.

Steve shook his head quickly. “It’s fine.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced. “Doesn’t look fine.”

“It’s just loud,” Steve snapped, more defensive than he meant to be. “I said I’m fine.”

Eddie held up his hands slightly. “Alright, Jesus. Just asking.”

Steve exhaled sharply, looking away. “Yeah. Well, don’t.” He felt too exposed now. And that… landed wrong, of course. He could tell immediately.

Eddie’s posture shifted, subtle but there. Not backing off completely, but something in him closing up just a little. “Got it,” Eddie said, tone flattening.

Steve felt his jaw suddenly clenched, he was annoyed, at himself, at Eddie, at the whole situation. At whatever the hell was going on in his head.

“So,” Eddie said after a moment, clearly trying to reset, “you survived the show. Congrats.”

Steve let out a short laugh. “It was alright.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smirked but Steve could see that it was forced. “Thought you were gonna run out halfway through.”

Steve frowned. “I didn’t run.”

“You looked like you wanted to,” Eddie shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You wish.”

 “Oh, I know you did. Whole time you were standing there like…” he stiffened exaggeratedly, shoulders up, eyes wide, clutching an imaginary drink.

Steve snorted despite himself. “I do not look like that.”

Eddie seemed to relax again, Steve saw intensely as he leaned forward just a bit, “You absolutely do.”

“I don’t.”

Eddie tilted his head. “You wanna bet?”

Steve huffed, stepping closer without really thinking about it. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am I?” Eddie shot back, not backing up either.

And suddenly they were too close again. Close enough that Steve could see the tiny freckle near Eddie’s jaw. Close enough to catch the faint smell of sweat and something smoky clinging to his clothes. Close enough that… That stupid feeling came back, and it was stronger this time.

Steve’s grip tightened around his glass. “You think you’re so funny,” he muttered.

Eddie’s grin faltered just a little, like he caught the shift again. “I mean… yeah. Usually.”

Steve shook his head, letting out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh but wasn’t. “Yeah, well. You’re not that special, Munson.”

The second it left his mouth he regretted instantly, fucking stupid, what the fuck was wrong with him? He knew that it was too far.

Eddie stilled. The grin that tugged at his lips dropped completely this time. “Didn’t say I was,” he replied, quieter now.

Something in Steve’s chest twisted hard. He should fix it, say something intelligent. But instead…

“You act like it,” Steve said, because apparently his brain had decided to make everything worse tonight.

Eddie’s eyes flickered, something hurt and sharp flashing through them before it got buried under something more familiar, defensive, a little biting.

“Sorry,” he said, voice edged now, “didn’t realize you were the expert on that.”

Steve scoffed. “Oh, come on.”

“No, seriously,” Eddie continued, crossing his arms now. “You wanna talk about acting like you’re special? That’s kind of your whole thing, isn’t it, Harrington?”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “That’s not…”

“Pretty sure it is,” Eddie cut in. “King Steve and all that?”

“That’s not me anymore,” Steve snapped, louder than he meant to.

A couple people nearby glanced over.

“Sure,” he said, not sounding convinced at all. And that… That hit something.

Because Steve didn’t even know why it mattered so much that Eddie believed that. But it did. And just as Steve opened his mouth to say something else Eddie spoke.

“I really, really though you wanted to be friends,” he said oddly calmed. “I guess you can stop pretending now,” he walked away.

And that felt as if someone stabbed a knife into Steve’s chest and started twisting it. He wanted to go after him, apologized and tell him he didn’t mean anything he said, but he just stayed in place, frozen and feeling so fucking stupid.

Chapter Text

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That’s a now very usual feeling for Steve. It seemed like he wasn’t able to do anything right, to be just fucking normal.

He had quickly left the bar after Eddie went somewhere else; he couldn’t stay there and act like everything was alright.

Chrissy had caught up to him outside just as he reached his car.

“Steve!”

He kept walking anyway, fumbling with his keys hard enough that they rattled loudly in his hands.

“Seriously?” Chrissy grabbed his elbow before he could unlock the door. “What the hell was that?”

Steve yanked his arm back immediately. “I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out,” she snapped.

Steve blinked at her. Robin didn’t usually sound angry at him. Frustrated, sure. Exasperated constantly. But this? This had actual bite to it.

“I said I don’t know,” he shot back, harsher now because he suddenly felt cornered. “I was drunk, okay?”

Chrissy stared at him for a long moment.

“That’s your excuse?”

Steve looked away. The cold night air hit differently after the heat of the bar. Everything felt too sharp now, the buzz in his head turning sour.

“I didn’t mean it,” he muttered eventually.

Chrissy’s expression softened a fraction, but not much. “Then why did you say it?”

Steve opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? He didn’t know. Or maybe he did, and the answer made him feel even worse.

Chrissy sighed, leaning against the side of his car. “You know he actually likes you, right?”

Steve’s stomach dropped so fast it almost hurt.

“What?”

“Not even in, like, a crush way,” she said quickly, though something weird flickered across her face. “I mean as a person, Steve. After everything that had happened, he was giving you a chance. A chance that you actually need to prove that you change.”

Steve swallowed hard.

A chance.

And he had thrown that back in Eddie’s face over what? A stupid conversation? A couple drinks? His own inability to stop feeling weird every time Eddie got too close?

Chrissy watched realization crawl across his face and groaned softly.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Steve said immediately.

“You are so deeply stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously.” She pointed at him aggressively. “You spend weeks staring at him like a kicked puppy every time he walks into Family Video and then the second he starts getting comfortable around you, you freak out and say the meanest thing possible.”

“I didn’t…” Steve dragged both hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“But it did.”

Steve shut his eyes. Because yeah, it did. And now that it is spinning on his head, it even sounds worse.

And the worst part was the look on Eddie’s face right before he walked away. Steve hadn’t missed it. That brief flash of hurt before the walls slammed back up again.

It made his chest ache.

Chrissy’s voice softened slightly. “You should apologize.”

“I already apologized to him before.”

“Well, congratu-fucking-lations, do it again.”

Steve let out a weak huff of laughter despite himself, it was weird hearing Chrissy talk like this, but it disappeared almost immediately.

“What if he doesn’t wanna talk to me?” he asked quietly. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“He probably doesn’t right now,” she admitted.

That hurt more than it should have.

“But Eddie’s…” She paused, searching for the words. “He acts tough, but he cares a lot. More than people think.”

“How do you know that?”

“Robin cares deeply about him, she talks a lot about him, and I’d gather a couple of things. And I do have been spending time with him, it’s not hard to notice that about him,” she said that last part almost accusatory.

Steve nodded slowly. Yeah. He knew that now. And maybe that was part of why this whole thing felt so awful. Because somewhere along the way, without noticing, Steve had started caring too. Too much, apparently.

Chrissy’s face softened completely then, and nudged his shoulder. “Just give him a little time before you go all pathetic and dramatic about it.”

Steve rolled his eyes weakly. “I’m not dramatic.”

Robin just looked at him.

“Okay, whatever,” he muttered.

She smiled a little then, finally stepping back. “Are you sure you can drive right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not drunk anymore.”

Chrissy looked at him for a moment, “Get home safe, Steve.”

Steve nodded once before climbing into his car.

The drive home was quiet except for the constant replaying of the night in his head.

Eddie onstage, grinning wildly under the lights. Eddie laughing at him. Eddie stepping closer.

You’re not that special, Munson.

Steve winced hard, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

God, why would he say that? It hadn’t even been true. If anything, Eddie was probably the most genuine person Steve had ever met. And maybe that scared him, because Steve spent so much of his life pretending to be whatever people expected him to be that seeing someone who just… wasn’t, felt almost unreal.

Eddie was loud and weird and intense and impossible to ignore.

Steve liked that.

His stomach twisted violently.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered to himself.

But what did that actually meant? Nothing made sense, nothing ever made sense to Steve. He did thing and then questioned why he did it. He wasn’t sure of anything in his life.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He always felt stupid.

The only thing he was sure about right now is that he needed to apologize to Eddie, and if he didn’t accept it, it was going to hurt more than it should.

And Steve had absolutely no idea what to do with that or why it feels so intense.

Because this wasn’t normal.

Friends fought all the time, probably. Friends annoyed each other, said stupid shit, got defensive. That happened. So why did it feel like someone had wrapped a hand around Steve’s ribs and squeezed every time he remembered the look on Eddie’s face?

Why did the idea of Eddie being actually done with him make his stomach twist?

Steve let out a frustrated groan, thumping his forehead lightly against the steering wheel as he sat parked outside his house.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself.

Maybe Chrissy was right. Maybe he was being dramatic. Still, he stayed there for another minute, hands limp on the wheel, staring blankly through the windshield.

His thoughts kept circling back anyway. To Eddie smiling at him when he walked into Family Video. To the way Eddie always leaned across the counter like he belonged there. To the sound of his laugh. To the stage lights catching on the sweat at the side of his neck while he sang like he had nothing to be ashamed of.

Steve’s face heated abruptly.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. He was absolutely not unpacking any of that tonight.

He climbed out of the car before his brain could keep spiraling and headed inside. The house was empty, dark except for the kitchen light he left on earlier. Normally Steve liked the quiet. Tonight it just felt even more lonely.

He tossed his keys onto the counter and immediately regretted it when the sharp sound echoed through the room. Everything felt too loud tonight. His thoughts. His heartbeat. The ringing in his ear that still hadn’t fully gone away.

Steve sighed heavily and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water mostly just to have something to do with his hands.

But since his mind truly hated him, he kept seeing Eddie walking away from him, and that look on his face, but Eddie hadn’t seemed angry. That would've almost been easier. No, Eddie had looked disappointed. Like he’d expected better from Steve.

And somehow that was worse.

Steve leaned back against the counter, staring down at the glass in his hands. When was the last time someone’s opinion of him mattered this much? The answer came immediately, unwelcome and obvious.

Nancy.

Except… no.

Not like this.

This felt different somehow, and Steve couldn’t explain why without his thoughts starting to knot themselves into something confusing and dangerous. Because with Nancy, Steve had always known where he stood, even when things were bad. He knew what he wanted from her. What it meant.

But this thing with Eddie?

Steve didn’t even know what this was.

He just knew that lately every room felt different when Eddie walked into it. Brighter and louder. And somehow easier at the same time. Which made no sense.

Eddie was chaos. Eddie talked too much and got too close and looked at Steve like he actually wanted to know him. Not King Steve. Not the asshole version everyone remembered.

Just Steve.

And maybe that was the real problem.

Maybe Steve liked being seen by him a little too much.

The thought hit hard enough that he straightened abruptly.

“Nope,” he said aloud to the empty kitchen.

His voice sounded weak even to himself. Because denying it didn’t actually stop the feeling. Didn’t stop the warmth that spread through his chest every time Eddie smiled at him.

Or the nerves.

Or whatever the hell that awful stomach-dropping thing was whenever Eddie got close.

Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He didn’t understand this and it was fucking killing him.

He didn’t understand why Eddie specifically had managed to crawl under his skin so fast. Didn’t understand why one stupid argument suddenly felt like the end of the world. And he definitely didn’t understand why the memory of Eddie bumping their shoulders together at the bar kept replaying in his head like it meant something.

Maybe it didn’t.

Maybe Steve was just lonely. Confused. Emotional after graduation and everything changing all at once.

That had to be it.

Right?

But even as he tried to convince himself, another thought pushed through anyway, quiet and terrifying.

Then why does it only feel like this with Eddie?

Chapter Text

Eddie woke up feeling like shit.

And he knew it wasn’t just because he stayed up late last night. He hadn’t even drank that much. It was more like he was emotionally drained, wrung out from the inside.

And all because of Steve’s stupid mood swings.

Eddie groaned into his pillow, pulling the blanket over his head like that would somehow stop his brain from replaying every second of last night.

It didn’t work.

Just when Eddie thought they were building a somewhat great relationship, there went Steve with that unbreakable persona Eddie had really thought he’d left behind. But apparently King Steve was still there, buried under all those softer smiles and awkward conversations and late-night porch talks.

And Eddie couldn’t take it anymore.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Steve kept letting him see glimpses of something real. Something warm. And every single time Eddie started relaxing around him, started trusting it, Steve snapped shut again like he regretted it.

It was exhausting.

Eddie rolled onto his back with another frustrated groan, staring up at the stained trailer ceiling.

“You’re not that special, Munson.”

“Yeah, thanks brain,” he muttered aloud. “Keep replaying it. Super helpful.”

The thing was, the words themselves weren’t even the worst part. Eddie had heard worse. Hell, Hawkins High practically ran on people saying worse things about him.

But Steve wasn’t supposed to be one of those people. Not anymore.

That’s what stung.

Because somewhere between hanging around Family Video and Steve saying his name all soft like it mattered, Eddie had started believing maybe Steve actually saw him differently now.

Not as the freak.

Not as some joke.

Just Eddie.

And maybe that was stupid. Maybe Eddie had built the whole thing up too much in his own head because he had a dumb crush and zero self-preservation instincts.

Still.

Steve had looked at him differently too. Eddie knew he had.

There had been moments where Steve stared at him like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t understand. Moments where he leaned in close without noticing. Moments where Eddie made him laugh and Steve looked genuinely surprised by how much he enjoyed it.

That couldn’t all be fake.

Could it?

Eddie pressed both hands over his face with a groan.

God, he hated this.

Hated not knowing what Steve actually wanted from him.

One second Steve acted like he genuinely liked being around him. The next he got defensive and sharp, throwing up walls so fast it gave Eddie whiplash.

And Eddie was too tired for it now. Too tired of trying to decode every look and every weird shift in Steve’s mood. Too tired of hoping.

The trailer creaked softly somewhere outside his room, followed by the sound of Wayne moving around the kitchen.

Eddie shut his eyes.

He should get up. Go to work. Act normal.

Instead, he stayed there for another minute, curled deeper into the mattress.

Because if he got up, he’d have to actually face the fact that he missed Steve already.

Which was honestly humiliating after everything that happened.

“Pathetic,” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop it from being true.

Wayne was already finishing breakfast by the time Eddie finally dragged himself out of bed. The trailer smelled like coffee and toast, warm in a way that made Eddie want to crawl back under the blankets instead of facing the day.

Wayne glanced up from the stove as Eddie shuffled in.

“Well,” he said, “you look terrible.”

Eddie dropped dramatically into one of the chairs. “I’m surrounded by critics.”

Wayne snorted softly, sliding a plate toward him. “Eat.”

Eddie looked down at the eggs and toast. “You made breakfast?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am surprised. Usually you just shove coffee at me and hope for the best.”

“Figured you looked like you needed actual food today.”

Something in Eddie’s chest softened a little at that.

Wayne wasn’t the overly emotional type. He didn’t hover or pry too much. But he noticed things. He always noticed things.

Eddie picked at his toast quietly for a moment before muttering, “You ever wish your brain would just shut the hell up for one day?”

Wayne hummed into his coffee mug. “Every day.”

That startled a laugh out of Eddie despite himself.

“There he is,” Wayne said, pointing at him with his mug. “Knew you weren’t fully dead yet.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but his shoulders loosened slightly.

“You gonna survive?” Wayne asked after a moment.

Eddie sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Wayne smiled softly at that, the lines around his eyes crinkling, “Good.”

And somehow that tiny interaction settled something in Eddie just enough to get him moving.

*

The record shop was quiet for most of the afternoon.

Eddie spent the first hour pretending to reorganize vinyls while actually just thinking himself in circles. Every song suddenly reminded him of Steve somehow, which felt deeply unfair.

A customer bought a Fleetwood Mac album and Eddie nearly groaned out loud.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself.

“Talking to yourself again?” the owner called from behind the counter.

“Always.”

By the time the bell above the door jingled again later that afternoon, Eddie barely looked up.

“Please tell me you’re not spiraling alone in here.”

Eddie blinked.

“Robin?”

She stood in the doorway wearing her Family Video vest, arms crossed tightly, concern written all over her face.

“Oh good,” Eddie deadpanned. “My keeper arrived.”

Robin ignored that completely and walked straight toward him.

“You okay?”

And there it was.

That dangerous question.

Eddie opened his mouth automatically to say yes, but the look on her face stopped him. So instead, he sighed heavily and leaned against the counter.

“I think I might actually murder him.”

“Fair.” Robin nodded like that was completely reasonable. Eddie laughed weakly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“He called me special like it was an insult,” he muttered.

Robin’s expression tightened immediately. “Steve’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, well.” Eddie shrugged, trying for casual and failing completely. “I think I just got carried away.”

“With your crush?”

Eddie choked violently. “Jesus Christ, Robin.” He looked around like a spook dog, luckily for him the store was still empty.

“You like him so bad,” she continued.

Eddie groaned loudly, dropping his forehead against the counter.

“I hate everything.”

Robin laughed softly, reaching over to shove his shoulder. “You wanna know my professional advice?”

“You are literally the least professional person I know.”

“Rude.” She nudged him again. “But seriously. I think that you already did what you could, he needs to get his shit together.”

“I know, but…”

Robin’s expression softened and that look on her face made his words to get stuck on his throat.

“Eddie, this is hurting you more than him.”

Eddie swallowed hard and nodded once.

Yeah, she was right.

“For what it’s worth,” she said after a second, quieter now, “I really don’t think Steve meant what he said, but that doesn’t excuse it.”

Eddie stayed quiet. Because honestly? Neither did he.

That was part of why this sucked so much.

*

By the time Eddie got home that night, he felt exhausted enough to collapse.

Wayne had already gone to work, the trailer mostly dark except for the small kitchen light left on for him.

Eddie moved quietly through the space, stripping off his rings and jacket before falling onto his bed with a groan. His brain still wouldn’t shut up. Which was honestly impressive at this point.

He stared at the ceiling for a while before finally reaching over to turn off the lamp beside his bed.

Darkness settled around him. Then, silence.

But then the phone rang. Eddie’s entire body froze.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

His stomach dropped before he even reached for it.

Because he knew. He was absolutely sure that it was Steve.

Eddie had secretly started looking forward to those calls when they were more frequent. Which now felt like cosmic punishment.

The phone kept ringing.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut before finally snatching it up.

“What?” he answered, rougher than intended.

There was a pause. “…Eddie?”

And oh. Steve sounded awful. Completely wrecked. His voice sounded slow and messy around the edges.

Eddie sat up immediately.

“Jesus, Harrington,” he muttered. “How high are you?”

A weak laugh crackled through the line. “Don’t know.”

“Where’d you even get weed?”

Steve ignored the question completely.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s chest tightened painfully. “Steve…”

“No, listen,” Steve rushed out, words slurring together slightly. “I’m sorry, okay? I was an asshole. I know I was. I always am.”

Eddie rubbed tiredly at his face.

“You’re high.”

“I know.”

“You should probably do this conversation sober.” Because Eddie couldn’t accept the fact that Steve is not going to remember this.

“But I can’t stop thinking,” Steve interrupted suddenly, voice cracking around the edges now. “I can’t… fuck, Eddie, I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

Eddie frowned immediately.

On the other end of the line, he heard movement. Pacing maybe.

“I keep messing everything up,” Steve continued quietly. “And I don’t know why I keep doing that with you.”

Something uneasy curled in Eddie’s stomach. “Steve,” he said more carefully now, “are you alone?”

A pause.

“When am I not?” he said bitterly.

Eddie cursed softly under his breath and swung his legs off the bed. This was stupid and so wrong. He should just let Steve figure whatever was going on with him on his own. But there was something in him that wouldn’t let him.

“Okay. Don’t freak out.”

“What?”

“I’m coming over.” Eddie spoke quickly, because if he gave it even a second for his words to land, he would bail out.

“No, you don’t have to…”

“Steve.”

There was silence for a beat. Then quieter, “Okay.”

*

By the time Eddie pulled into Steve’s driveway, his stomach was in knots.

The Harrington house looked enormous in the dark, all sharp shadows and expensive emptiness. One light glowed upstairs.

Eddie climbed out of the van slowly, already questioning every decision that had led him here.

This was a bad idea.

A terrible idea.

But Steve had sounded so genuinely miserable on the phone that Eddie couldn’t stay away. Which probably said something deeply concerning about him psychologically.

The front door was unlocked.

Of course it was.

“Steve?” Eddie called carefully as he stepped inside.

“Kitchen,” came the muffled response.

Eddie found him sitting on the floor beside the kitchen island, knees pulled loosely toward his chest. Jesus. Steve looked as wrecked as he sounded.

His hair was messy like he’d been dragging his hands through it repeatedly, eyes red and glassy, hoodie half falling off one shoulder.

And somehow Eddie’s chest still squeezed painfully at the sight of him.

“You look awful,” Eddie said softly.

Steve huffed a weak laugh. “You too.”

“Wow. How nice of you.” That earned the tiniest smile. But it disappeared quickly.

“I really fucked up,” Steve muttered.

Eddie leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms tightly. “Yeah. You kinda did.”

Steve nodded immediately like he deserved worse.

The silence between them stretched for what felt agonizingly long. Steve kept staring at the floor, rubbing his palms against his jeans over and over like he couldn’t settle inside his own skin.

Then he asked suddenly, “Do you hate me?”

Eddie’s breath caught.

“What?”

“Because I think you hate me now.” Steve laughed weakly, but it sounded miserable. “Which would be fair. I deserve it.” He dragged both hands through his hair until they covered his face completely. “I keep fucking everything up with you.”

Something in Eddie twisted painfully.

He stared at Steve for a second before sighing heavily and sliding down the cabinet across from him until he was sitting on the floor too.

“I don’t hate you, Steve.”

Steve immediately looked up. And he looked so relieved that Eddie almost regretted coming here even more. Because that expression did something awful to his chest.

“But I don’t understand you,” Eddie admitted quietly.

Steve looked back down at his hands.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Me neither.”

God.

Something cracked a little inside Eddie at that. Because Steve sounded genuinely lost, so utterly confused in a way that looked almost painful. And somehow that made this harder instead of easier.

“You keep pulling me close,” Eddie said before he could stop himself. “And then the second things start feeling real, you shove me away again.”

Steve flinched.

“I’m trying not to.”

“Well, congratulations,” Eddie snapped, emotions finally boiling over. “You still are.” Steve’s head jerked up sharply, but Eddie continued. “You act like you want me around and then suddenly it’s like you remember who I am or something.” Eddie laughed once, rough and bitter. “Like you panic.”

“I don’t…” Steve frowned hard, words slurring together slightly. “I don’t panic.”

“You do.” Eddie pointed at him immediately. “You absolutely do.”

Steve shoved himself clumsily to his feet too fast and nearly stumbled. “I’m not scared of you.”

“I didn’t say scared of me.”

“Then what?” Steve shot back, frustrated now. “What the fuck are you saying?”

Eddie stood too, heartbeat suddenly hammering.

“This!” he burst out, throwing his hands wildly between them. “Whatever this is! One second you’re looking at me like…” He cut himself off hard, jaw tightening.

“Like what?” Steve demanded.

Eddie laughed again, sharper this time. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve was staring at him now with this open frustration, eyes glassy and confused and too bright. And Eddie suddenly felt so exhausted.

“So what?” Steve said again, louder now. “You’re mad because I’m confused? Sorry I don’t fucking understand what’s happening half the time!”

“And you think I do?” Eddie snapped right back. “You think this is easy for me?”

Steve blinked at him.

Eddie’s chest heaved painfully.

“It hurts,” he said suddenly, voice cracking despite himself. “It hurts so fucking much, watching the person you are going crazy for be the nicest fucking person to you one minute and then suddenly act like they can’t stand you.”

The words hit the room like a gunshot.

Silence.

Steve stared at him.

Eddie immediately wanted to launch himself directly into traffic.

Fuck.

Fuck.

But now that the words were out, Eddie couldn’t stop. “You don’t understand how it feels,” he continued, voice getting rougher, more emotional. “Watching everything from the sidelines all the time. Wanting something so bad and knowing you can’t do shit about it because the second you let yourself hope, it all goes to hell.”

Steve’s face twisted harder with every word.

Confusion. Hurt. Frustration.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked suddenly, almost upset now. “Are you talking about some girl right now?”

Eddie’s hands snapped into his hair; he wanted to pull or do fucking something. Because of

fucking course. Steve was too high to follow any of this. Too high and too oblivious and Eddie was so unbelievably stupid for letting this happen.

“There’s nothing to lose, right?” Steve continued, rambling now, hands moving wildly as he talked. “So why won’t you just tell her? If she’s making you this miserable then just… I don’t know, do something! But stop taking it out on me.”

Eddie stared at him in disbelief. Then laughed once, completely humorless. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Steve asked immediately, frustrated again. “What did I say now?”

“I’m not talking about a fucking girl, Steve.”

The words slipped out sharp and fast before Eddie could stop them.

Steve blinked.

“What?”

And suddenly Eddie couldn’t breathe. The full weight of what he’d just admitted crashed into him all at once.

Steve was still staring at him, completely lost.

Eddie looked away first, jaw clenching hard enough to hurt.

“Forget it.”

But Steve kept staring.

Eddie could practically see the moment the pieces started clicking together behind his eyes.

Slowly. So painfully slowly.

“It’s not…” Steve frowned hard, trying to follow. “Wait.”

Eddie shut his eyes, preparing himself for the impact.

“Oh.”

The room went completely still.

Eddie felt like someone had punched him directly in the stomach.

“Yeah,” he whispered, throat tight. “Oh.”

Chapter Text

More often than not Eddie gets this gut crushing feeling that at any given moment something so utterly shitty is going to happen.

And right now, that feeling is backed up, because something so utterly shitty is going to happen.

So, while standing before an almost catatonic Steve, Eddie’s heart is on the verge of failure. All he could think was that he fucked up bad. He should have listened to Robin and just stopped making Steve his problem anymore.

But no.

His stupid half-thought decisions had led him here, and now anything could happen, and it would all be his fault.

The silence in the Harrington kitchen felt unbearable. Steve was still staring at him, a blank expression on his face, that Eddie could not decipher.

Eddie’s skin felt too tight suddenly, his pulse hammering violently in his throat as every survival instinct screamed at him to run.

“Okay,” he said abruptly, voice strained. “Cool. Great. Forget I said anything.” He needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

Steve blinked once, like the words took a second too long to register.

“What?”

“I’m serious.” Eddie laughed nervously, already backing up a step. “You’re high, I’m emotionally compromised, this whole night is a complete disaster, so let’s just pretend…”

“Where you talking about me?” Steve interrupted.

Eddie stopped moving. His stomach dropped so hard it physically hurt, he was really hoping Steve was so high that everything he had just said had just erased from his brain.

And Steve looked genuinely baffled by the concept. Eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted, eyes still glassy from the weed but intensely focused now.

Like Eddie had suddenly become a problem he couldn’t solve. And maybe he had.

Eddie swallowed hard. “Steve…” his voice came out hoarse.

Steve was still staring at him. And Eddie couldn’t read the expression on his face at all now. Before, maybe it was more confusion than anything, but now? His expression softened in a wat that terrified him.

Because if Steve had gotten angry, Eddie could have handle that. If Steve had felt uncomfortable, fine. If Steve had wanted him gone, Eddie would have left in a beat.

But this?

This strange, almost panicked confusion with an undertone that he could piece together?

Eddie didn’t know what to do with it.

“You said you were going crazy,” Steve said suddenly.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Please stop repeating things I said.”

“But you are?” Steve asked, voice oddly quiet now. “Going crazy?”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh.

“Steve, I have had a crush on you since, like, forever.” Eddie almost cringe at his words, he needed to leave, now.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

Steve’s expression somehow blanked even further.

“Forever?”

“Yes, forever,” Eddie said helplessly. “Since high school. Since your stupid fucking hair.”

“My hair?”

“Yes, your hair!” Eddie threw his hands up. “Jesus Christ, focus.”

He needed to focus.

And Steve actually reached up and touched his own hair like this was relevant information. Under any other circumstances, Eddie might’ve laughed.

Instead, he just felt sick.

“Look,” Eddie said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation before he completely lost his mind. “You don’t have to say anything, alright? Actually, maybe don’t say anything. You’re high and confused and I really don’t need this becoming more humiliating than it already is.”

But Steve barely seemed to hear him.

“You’ve liked me since high school,” he repeated again, quieter this time.

Eddie groaned loudly, “Yes.”

“But…” Steve frowned hard. “Why?”

That one hurt a little.

Eddie looked away immediately.

“Wow. Okay.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” Steve stumbled over the words instantly. “I just mean… me?”

Eddie laughed weakly. “Believe me, I ask myself that all the time.”

Steve looked almost distressed now.

His fingers kept twitching against his sleeves, his breathing uneven. Eddie suddenly remembered Chrissy once telling him Steve got twitchy when his thoughts moved faster than he could keep up with.

Why had Chrissy laid that information to him was still a mystery, but he was grateful for it now.

Because right now Steve looked overwhelmed by all of them.

“I thought you hated me in high school,” Steve admitted quietly.

Eddie barked out a startled laugh. “I mean, sometimes, yeah.”

Steve blinked.

“You were kind of an asshole.”

“Oh.”

“But you were also…” Eddie stopped abruptly.

Steve watched him carefully now.

Eddie rubbed both hands over his face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Steve said immediately, stubborn even through the haze of being high. “Tell me.”

Eddie looked at him for a long moment.

And against every intelligent instinct left in his body, he did.

“You were nice sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “Not all the time. But sometimes.”

Steve stayed very still.

“You smiled at people like you actually saw them. You always helped old ladies with their groceries after school even when none of your asshole friends did.” Eddie laughed softly to himself. “You lent me a pencil once in sophomore year, even when I thought you actually hated me and I think I nearly had a heart attack.”

Steve stared at him like he’d grown another head.

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything about you,” Eddie said before he could stop himself.

Silence crashed between them again.

And this time it felt dangerous.

Steve’s face changed, something small and fragile shifting behind his eyes.

Eddie immediately panicked.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “Nope. That’s enough honesty for one night. I’m gonna go before I actually die.”He turned too fast, already heading toward the front door.

“Wait.”

Steve’s voice cracked slightly behind him.

Eddie stopped anyway. Because of course he did, his body had its own mind.

“You don’t get it,” Steve said suddenly.

Eddie frowned, turning slightly back toward him.

Steve looked wrecked again now. More emotional than before somehow. “No one’s ever…” He swallowed hard. “No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”

Eddie’s chest tightened painfully.

“Steve, don’t…”

“And I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Steve continued in a rush, words messy now. “Because every time you get close, I feel like my brain stops working and I get angry and weird and then I ruin everything and I don’t know why.”

Eddie stared at him. His mouth had gone completely dry, his mind was blank, he couldn’t process what he was hearing right now.

Steve dragged both hands through his hair again, frustrated tears suddenly bright in his eyes.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” he admitted quietly.

And god.

That almost hurt worse than rejection somehow. Because Eddie could see it now, Steve wasn’t disgusted, he wasn’t mocking him. He genuinely didn’t understand.

Which meant Eddie suddenly had a whole new terrifying thing to lose.

For a long moment, Eddie didn’t move and neither did Steve. They both stood there, frozen in place, both lost in the train of thoughts that were roaming in their heads.

The kitchen suddenly felt too small for everything sitting between them now. Steve looked wrecked standing there under the dim yellow light, eyes red and unfocused, breathing uneven like his own thoughts were exhausting him.

And Eddie, God, he didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know what to do with anything right now. Because this wasn’t how he imagined this going. Not even in his worst nightmares, and especially not in his most embarrassingly hopeful fantasies.

There was no dramatic rejection. No yelling. No disgust. Just Steve standing there looking completely shattered by feelings he couldn’t even name.

“You should sit down,” Eddie said softly before thinking better of it.

Steve laughed weakly. “I’m already standing.”

“That’s…” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “Not what I meant.”

“I know.” Steve’s voice came out quieter this time. Small, almost.

And that more than anything made Eddie’s anger start dissolving around the edges, leaving behind something much more dangerous. Which was honestly annoying considering the emotional crisis currently happening.

Steve looked down at the floor again.

“When you said you were going crazy,” he said slowly, words careful now, “you meant because of me?”

Eddie huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

“Steve.”

“No, I know, I just…” He shook his head hard like he was trying to physically reorganize his thoughts. “I thought you meant someone else.”

“I gathered that.”

“I didn’t know,” Steve said immediately, looking up at him again like it mattered that Eddie understood that. “I swear I didn’t know.”

And Eddie believed him, because Steve could be many things, but subtle had never been one of them. If he’d known, he probably would’ve been acting insane weeks ago.

Actually.

More insane.

“You’re really bad at this,” Eddie muttered before he could stop himself.

Steve blinked. “At what?”

“Feelings.”

Steve barked out a startled laugh, and it sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “Chrissy always tells me that.”

The honesty of it knocked the air out of Eddie a little.

Steve leaned back against the counter behind him, dragging both hands over his face again.

“I just…” He exhaled shakily. “I keep thinking about you all the time.”

Eddie’s heartbeat stumbled. This could not be possibly happening right now; it had to be a dream or a fucking nightmare. And Eddie had to wake up as soon as possible.

“And I don’t know why,” Steve continued, voice rough now. “Like, I’d be at work waiting for you to show up and then when you did, I’d get nervous for no reason.”

Eddie stared at him.

Steve kept going, seemingly unable to stop now that he started. “And when you played tonight, I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He laughed weakly to himself. “Which sounds insane because there were literally other things happening.”

Eddie felt rooted to the spot, he felt an insane pressure on his chest, he was almost holding his breath in fear that at the minimum movement Steve would snapped out of whatever was going on with him and realize what was happening.

“And then when people were talking to you after…” Steve frowned slightly. “I got pissed off.”

That one startled a breathless laugh out of Eddie.

Steve pointed at him immediately. “See? That’s weird. Why was I upset about that?”

Eddie pressed his lips together hard, because he had an answer to that. A very obvious answer, but Steve still looked completely lost.

“I thought maybe I was just jealous,” Steve admitted.

Eddie blinked rapidly, “Jealous?”

“Yeah.” Steve shrugged helplessly. “Because you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Eddie. “You.”

“That explained absolutely nothing.”

Steve frowned harder, clearly frustrated by his inability to articulate whatever was happening in his own head.

“You make people like you,” he said finally.

Eddie stared at him in disbelief. “Steve Harrington,” he said slowly, “you cannot seriously be saying that to me.”

“But it’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.” Steve looked almost offended now. “People like being around you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Did we attend the same high school?”

“I’m serious,” Steve insisted. “You walk into a room and suddenly everyone’s paying attention to you.”

“That’s because I’m loud.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it again. Because Steve looked completely genuine, like he truly couldn’t understand why Eddie didn’t see himself the way Steve apparently did. And honestly? That was almost too much.

“So, what?” Eddie said carefully, “You were jealous?”

Steve groaned immediately, “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t!” Steve snapped, then immediately looked frustrated with himself again. “That’s the problem.”

Eddie watched him for a long moment. “Steve.” He spoke quietly, he wasn’t even sure Steve heard him at first, but then he finally looked up. “You don’t have to figure this out tonight.”

Something vulnerable flickered across Steve’s face instantly.

“But what if you leave?” he asked quickly, taking Eddie by surprise.

The words hung in the air between them.

Steve looked almost startled by his own admission.

And Eddie…

Eddie’s chest hurt so badly he almost laughed. Because there it was, the thing underneath all the confusion and defensiveness and panic, Steve didn’t want to lose him. Even if he didn’t fully understand why yet.

Eddie swallowed hard.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he said softly against his better judgment.

Steve’s shoulders loosened so visibly it nearly killed him.

And suddenly Eddie realized something terrifying. He would wait for Steve to figure this out. Which was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life.

But he had never had a choice in the matter. No matter what, he would always wait for him, and he felt so fucking helpless because of that.

Chapter Text

There are very few moments where Eddie feels completely at peace with himself. Writing is one of those rare moments of tranquility.

It doesn’t matter what he is writing. It could be a new idea for his D&D campaign, a half-finished song lyric scribbled onto the back of a receipt, or some weird short story that suddenly appeared in his head at three in the morning and refused to leave him alone until he put it down on paper.

Writing quieted his mind, and tonight, he wished more than ever that he had something to write on.

Because Steve Harrington was currently standing three feet away from him looking like his entire world had been turned upside down, and somehow Eddie was the reason why.

The realization sat horribly inside his chest.

Steve still hadn’t moved from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed tightly now like he was trying to physically hold himself together. His eyes kept darting toward Eddie and then away again just as fast, like looking at him too long did something dangerous.

Eddie understood the feeling awfully well.

The kitchen stayed silent for a long stretch of time.

Steve broke first.

“So,” he said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ve been in love with me this whole time?” He wasn’t slurring his words as much as before; he seemed more lucid now.

Eddie nearly choked.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Steve looked genuinely alarmed. “Was that the wrong word?”

“Yes!” Eddie hissed immediately. “Jesus Christ, don’t say it like that.”

Steve blinked slowly. “How am I supposed to say it?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie muttered, dragging both hands through his curls. “Preferably not at all.”

Steve stared at him for another long second before something small and crooked tugged at the corner of his mouth.

And Eddie’s stomach did something deeply humiliating.

“You’re freaking out now too,” Steve said quietly.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Especially because Steve was eerily calm. So fucking calm. And Eddie was truly losing his mind.

“Huh.” Steve’s eyes opened a little wider, like he was finding this whole situation fascinating.

Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you sound fascinated by that?”

“Because…” Steve said slowly, words still clumsy from the weed, “you always seem so…” He gestured vaguely.

“That gesture explains absolutely nothing.”

“Confident,” Steve finished.

Eddie let out an incredulous laugh so sharp it almost echoed. “Steve, I literally said I was going to die from embarrassment not even ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but like…” Steve frowned hard, clearly struggling to explain himself again. “You still say things. I think stuff and then panic until I ruin everything.”

Eddie opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

Because that hit harder than he expected, and Steve looked genuinely frustrated with himself. Almost angry about it.

“I don’t know why I keep doing that,” he admitted quietly. “Every time I think maybe we’re okay, I say something stupid and you look at me like I kicked a puppy.”

“You do kind of keep emotionally punting me down the stairs,” Eddie admitted, because what good would it do to downplay things now?

Steve groaned immediately, dropping his head back against the cabinet with a dull thunk.

“I know.”

And there was something so miserable about the way he said it that Eddie’s irritation melted almost instantly.

Which was honestly pathetic of him.

“You really don’t remember half the shit you said tonight, do you?” Eddie asked carefully.

Steve squinted at him. “I remember some of it.”

“That is not reassuring,” Eddie said almost to himself, that sinking feeling starting to creep up his spine again.

“What?” Steve asked immediately.

Eddie paused. “What?”

“You mumbled,” Steve said, frowning slightly. “Couldn’t hear you.”

Eddie blinked slowly. “Oh.” He shifted awkwardly. “Nothing. I just said this whole thing is kind of terrifying.”

Steve hummed softly, like he was piecing the sentence together from context instead of actually hearing it fully.

And suddenly something clicked in Eddie’s brain.

“Your ear really is messed up, huh?” he asked quietly.

Steve immediately tensed. Not much, but Eddie noticed it.

“Yeah,” Steve said after a second.

The answer sounded flat. Closed off. Like that was all Eddie was getting.

Normally Eddie would back off right there, but tonight already felt too raw for pretending.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

Steve let out a quiet breath through his nose, eyes dropping to the kitchen floor. For a second Eddie thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“It’s from that fight,” Steve muttered. “You know which one.”

Eddie blinked. Yeah. He obviously knew which one, the one he got into with Billy Hargrove.

Steve shrugged one shoulder tightly. “Concussion. Fucked up my hearing.”

The casual way he said it made something twist painfully in Eddie’s chest, like Steve had told himself it didn’t matter enough times that now he actually believed it.

“That’s why you get headaches?” Eddie asked before thinking.

Steve glanced up, surprised. “Sometimes.”

Eddie stared at him for a second longer.

And then, unexpectedly, Steve laughed softly to himself.

“What?” Eddie asked immediately.

Steve shook his head once, still looking oddly distant now. “Nothing. I just…” He rubbed tiredly at one eye. “You already knew all of this, didn’t you?”

Eddie frowned slightly. “I mean… I knew something was up sometimes, but I didn’t know why.”

“Well,” Steve said quietly, “you were the one who took me to the nurse’s office that time.”

Eddie stilled.

Steve leaned back harder against the counter, eyes drifting somewhere past Eddie now, like he was replaying it in real time.

“I remember hearing someone come into the bathroom and thinking, please don’t let it be someone I know.” He let out another quiet laugh. “Then of course it was you.”

Eddie snorted despite himself. “Wow. Glad to know I was your nightmare scenario.”

“No,” Steve said immediately.

The answer came so fast it caught Eddie off guard.

Steve noticed that too and looked away again.

“I just meant…” He exhaled slowly. “I looked awful.”

Eddie remembered. God, he remembered it so fucking well. Steve pale and shaking on the bathroom floor, eyes unfocused and exhausted, flinching every time the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie admitted quietly.

Steve’s mouth twitched slightly at that.

“Yeah, well. You scared me too.”

“Me?”

“You touched my shoulder and I thought my head was gonna split open.” He winced faintly at the memory. “Everything hurt and I couldn’t hear right, and then suddenly someone was grabbing me.”

Something heavy settled in Eddie’s chest. Because at the time he thought Steve shoved him away because it was him specifically. Not because he was in pain. Not because he was disoriented and scared.

Steve glanced at him carefully. “You looked so offended.”

“I was offended,” Eddie said automatically. “You practically threw me across the bathroom.”

Steve laughed quietly again, softer this time. “I remember you saying something like, ‘I’m trying to help you, asshole.’” He did dramatic air quotes with one hand.

Eddie scoffed. “That sounds accurate.”

“And then you kept helping me anyway.”

The words landed gently between them.

Eddie looked down at his hands.

“I figured you were about to crack your skull open if I left you there.”

Steve hummed quietly.

“I remember you walking me through the hallway.”

Eddie glanced back up.

Steve’s eyes were unfocused again, distant with memory. “The lights hurt so bad,” he murmured. “And people were staring.” His mouth tightened slightly. “I hated that.”

Eddie immediately remembered the whispers. The way students stopped to look at Steve Harrington falling apart in public like it was entertainment. His jaw tightened instinctively even now.

“You yelled at those guys by the science wing,” Steve said suddenly.

Eddie groaned softly. “Oh my god.”

“You told them to stop staring unless they planned on being useful.”

“That definitely sounds like me.”

Steve’s smile lingered this time. Small, and somehow fond.

“I remember thinking you were really annoying,” he admitted.

Eddie pointed at him immediately. “There he is. That’s the Harrington I know. I was starting to get worried you’d gone all soft.”

Steve laughed harder at that, and something in Eddie’s chest went painfully warm.

Then Steve’s expression softened again.

“But I also remember not wanting you to leave.”

Eddie’s breath caught, Steve didn’t seem to realize the damage he was doing.

“You stayed outside the nurse’s office for a while,” he said quietly. “I could hear your boots tapping against the floor.”

Eddie stared at him.

“You remember that?”

Steve shrugged slightly.

“I remember a lot of stuff about you.”

And that… That completely knocked the air out of Eddie’s lungs.

“But you told me to go away,” Eddie said, the words spilling from him before he could think about it.

He flinched as soon as he heard himself, and Steve tensed up as well.

Then Steve let out a quiet breath and tipped his head back against the counter behind him.

“We have established that I am an asshole,” he said after a moment.

Eddie huffed out a weak laugh despite himself, but it didn’t fully ease the tight feeling in his chest.

“That’s not…” He shook his head. “You really made it seem like you couldn’t stand me back then.”

Steve’s expression shifted instantly.

“I know,” he said quietly, and Eddie could hear the guilt in his voice.

Steve swallowed hard before continuing. “I thought if I let you get close…” He cut himself off, frustrated. “I don’t know.”

Eddie watched him carefully. “You don’t know?”

Steve shook his head once, sharper this time.

“No, I do.” He exhaled slowly through his nose. “I just didn’t wanna say it out loud.”

Eddie’s pulse started hammering immediately.

Steve stared down at his own hands.

“You already got under my skin back then,” he admitted quietly.

Jesus Christ.

Eddie felt like his entire nervous system short-circuited.

“What?”

Steve laughed weakly, but embarrassment was written all over his face now. “You were nice to me.”

“That’s your explanation?” Eddie blurted out in disbelief.

Steve looked up at him helplessly. “You don’t get it.”

“No, apparently I really don’t.”

Steve dragged a hand through his already wrecked hair.

“Everyone was always…” He gestured vaguely. “Different with me.”

Eddie frowned slightly.

“They wanted something,” Steve said quietly. “Or they already had some version of me in their head.” Eddie felt something ache sharply in his chest. “But you,” Steve continued, looking strangely frustrated now, “you talked to me like I was just some guy.”

“You were some guy.”

Steve’s mouth twitched faintly.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

A beat passed.

“And it freaked me out,” Steve admitted.

Eddie stared at him.

Because this whole fucking time Eddie thought Steve kept pushing him away because Eddie was too much.

Too weird.

Too loud.

Too obviously himself.

But now Steve was standing here saying the opposite like it should’ve been obvious.

“You seriously expect me to believe you were nervous around me?” Eddie asked weakly.

Steve immediately pointed at him. “You literally make fun of everybody.”

“That’s not true.”

“It absolutely is.”

“I make fun of people affectionately.”

“You called me a douchebag in the cafeteria the second time we ever talked.”

Eddie gasped dramatically. “And yet you survived.”

Steve laughed again, quieter now, shaking his head.

Then his expression softened.

“And you still helped me.”

Eddie’s smile faded a little at that. “Yeah,” he said softly.

Steve studied him for a long second, eyes heavy-lidded and warm in a way Eddie absolutely could not handle right now.

“I think that’s when things got bad for me,” Steve said before seeming to realize what he had just admitted.

Eddie stopped breathing entirely.

Steve’s eyes widened slightly too, like he had only just caught up to his own words.

“The concussion?” Eddie said quickly, voice cracking a little. “You mean the concussion, right?”

Steve snorted suddenly, loud and surprised. “You are freaking out right now.”

“I am absolutely not.”

“You look terrified.”

“Well,” Eddie said, pointing at him now, “you keep saying insane things to me.”

Steve’s smile lingered. “Yeah.”

They reached another moment of silence between them. The kitchen suddenly felt quieter than before. Softer somehow.

Steve was still smiling a little, like he couldn’t quite help it, and Eddie hated how much that affected him. Because Steve smiling at him should not feel this catastrophic.

Especially not right now.

Especially not after everything.

Eddie cleared his throat roughly and looked away first, mostly because he was ninety percent sure prolonged eye contact at this point would kill him instantly.

“Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “This has been psychologically devastating.”

Steve snorted softly.

“There’s that confidence again.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Steve’s smile widened just enough to make Eddie’s chest ache.

Then Steve blinked slowly, some of the exhaustion finally catching up to him again. Eddie could practically see it happening in real time, the way his shoulders sagged a little, the way his eyes lost some focus. The adrenaline was wearing off.

And honestly? Thank fucking God.

Because Eddie didn’t think either of them could survive much more emotional damage tonight.

“You should probably sleep,” Eddie said carefully.

Steve made a face immediately. “Not tired.”

“You are literally swaying.”

“I’m standing perfectly normal.”

“You almost tipped over like five seconds ago.”

“That was one time.”

Eddie pointed at him. “This is exactly why you can’t be trusted right now.”

Steve huffed out another quiet laugh and leaned back harder against the counter.

For a second, he just watched Eddie quietly again, expression unreadable now.

“You’re really not leaving mad?” Steve asked eventually, voice quieter this time.

And there it was again, that uncertainty underneath everything else. Eddie felt his chest tighten painfully.

“No,” he said honestly. “Confused? Emotionally compromised? Maybe permanently altered as a person?” He shrugged. “Sure. But not mad.”

Steve’s mouth twitched. “Emotionally compromised?”

“You heard me.”

“I did,” Steve said. “Mostly.”

Eddie rolled his eyes automatically, but something warm still curled in his chest at the joke.

Steve looked down at the floor for a second before speaking again.

“I meant it, by the way.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped immediately. “Steve…”

“No, not the…” Steve waved his hand vaguely, struggling to organize his thoughts again. “Not all the freaking-you-out parts.” He frowned. “Okay, maybe those too. I don’t know.” He sighed quietly. “I just meant... I really am sorry. For everything.” The sincerity in his voice hit Eddie hard enough that he had to look away again.

Because Steve sounded so genuine when he apologized. Like he hated himself a little for every time he’d pushed Eddie away. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

After a second, he nodded once. “I know.”

Steve looked strangely relieved by the answer. A silence settled again, but this one felt different. Less sharp around the edges. Steve yawned suddenly in the middle of it and immediately looked annoyed at himself.

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Oh my god. There it is.”

“Shut up.”

“You are absolutely exhausted.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Eddie said before thinking.

The words slipped out naturally.

Too naturally.

Both of them froze for half a second.

Steve stared at him.

Eddie felt his entire nervous system prepare for evacuation. But then Steve’s expression softened in this quiet, almost helpless way.

“No,” he said softly. “I really don’t.”

Oh.

Okay. Cool. Eddie was going to walk directly into traffic now.

“Right,” he said quickly, clapping his hands together once because apparently public humiliation was not enough for him tonight. “Anyway. Bedtime for the emotionally confusing disaster man.”

Steve blinked at him. “That’s rude.”

“And accurate.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he pushed himself off the counter anyway.

He stumbled a little immediately afterward.

Eddie pointed aggressively. “See?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re high and sleep-deprived.”

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You sound like Chrissy.”

“That should terrify you.”

Steve laughed under his breath again, quieter this time.

And God, Eddie was so fucked.

He walked Steve toward the stairs mostly out of instinct, hovering nearby in case he lost his balance again. At the bottom step, Steve paused and looked back at him.

For one horrible second, Eddie thought they were about to have another feelings conversation and nearly died on the spot.

Instead, Steve just said, “You’re really staying?”

Eddie softened despite himself.

“Yeah, Stevie. I’m staying until you’re unconscious at least. Doctor’s orders.”

Steve’s tired smile returned briefly at the nickname.

Then Eddie pointed at him seriously.

“And for the record, next time you decide to have an emotional crisis, you are absolutely not allowed to buy weed from some random idiot behind Family Video again.”

Steve looked offended. “I was supporting local business.”

“You betrayed me,” Eddie said dramatically. “And I am a local business you should support.” That finally made Steve laugh properly. Warm and surprised and real.

And Eddie immediately decided that maybe tonight hadn’t been entirely terrible after all.

Chapter Text

He was looking at me with those big brown sad eyes and there was nothing else in the entire world that could even compare to them.

“Steve.” He said softly, the way his lips glowed under the dim yellow light was the most hypnotizing thing I’ve ever seen. And his voice, oh his voice, it made me shiver as its words lingered between us.

“Steve.”

I just wish I could hear him say my name for the rest of the time I have on earth.

“Steve!”

Steve jerked awake, a sinking feeling made his way into his stomach as he tried to regain consciousness as started to look around, trying to find the source for his unexpected awakening.

Everything was blurry for a couple of seconds; he had to blink a couple of times until he realized it was bright.

“For fucks sake, what the hell happened to you?” A loud voice startled him again, his head snapping to the side until he spotted Chrissy. She was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, looking somewhere between concerned and deeply annoyed.

Steve stared at her.

Chrissy stared back.

"Morning to you too," he croaked.

Chrissy made a face. "Jesus Christ."

"What?"

"You look terrible."

Steve frowned immediately. "Thanks." But yeah, he felt terrible as well.

“No, seriously." She pointed at him. "You look like you got dragged behind a truck."

Steve opened his mouth to argue. But immediately paused because his mouth felt weirdly dry. His head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton, and there was a very distinct memory of buying weed from a guy behind Family Video.

"Oh."

“Yeah, oh." Chrissy narrowed her eyes. "Glad we're caught up."

Steve groaned and dropped his face into his hands, trying to burrow everything. Unfortunately, that only made all the memories from last night to come back.

The faint image of him stumbling into his bed, talking to someone, suddenly he’s on his kitchen floor and in front of him is… Fucking shit.

Eddie fucking Munson.

Of course, there’s something about him that Steve cannot for the life of him escape.

But he was here last night, right? Or did he imagine it? Was he really that high? No, it was real.

It was fucking real.

Eddie was here, and the talked. Like really talked and everything felt nice, Steve feels too calm when he is around Eddie, he gets him in a way, he’s…

No. Absolutely not. His brain was not allowed to continue that thought.

"Why are you making that face?" Chrissy asked suspiciously.

Steve looked up.

"What face?“

“The one where you look like you just remembered a crime."

“I didn't commit a crime."

Chrissy raised an eyebrow. “You bought mystery weed from a stranger."

"Okay, maybe one crime."

She sighed dramatically before walking farther into the room.

"Do you remember anything from last night? I called you several times this morning and you didn’t picked up, I got worried."

Steve immediately looked away. Which, unfortunately, was apparently answer enough.

Chrissy's eyes narrowed.

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"You do."

"I remember some things."

"Steve. What did you do?"

"It was mostly a blur."

"Steve."

He groaned louder.

"Why do you keep saying my name like that?"

“Because you're being weird."

"I am not being weird." How much of that does Steve actually believe is none of her business.

Chrissy barked out a laugh. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Steve sat up carefully, his skull immediately threatened mutiny, which he attributed more to being emotionally drained more than to what he smoked. "Jesus," he muttered.

"That's what happens when you're an idiot."

"You're being really judgmental for someone who left me unsupervised."

"You are supposed to be a fully functional adult."

Steve considered that. "Fair."

Chrissy sat down on the edge of the desk across from him and studied him for a second. A very dangerous look coming from her, the kind she got right before asking questions Steve didn't want to answer.

He immediately pointed at her. "No."

Her eyes widened. "I haven't even said anything."

"I know that look."

"What look?"

"I don’t know, you just look,” he moved his hands at her making weird movements, “like that.”

“That explained nothing but sure,” she chuckled.

Steve then let himself relax slightly. Which was his worst decision yet, because Chrissy smile got bigger, a terrible sign.

"Have you talked to Eddie yet?"

And there it was, Steve dropped back onto the mattress with a groan so dramatic it bordered on theatrical. "Chrissy."

"What?" and she sounded genuinely confused.

Steve ran his hands through his hair. "Don't."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." Because there’s so many things that I don’t understand and it scares me deeply.

There’s so many things that go unsaid, but he is once again avoiding his problems.

"That's not a reason." Chrissy keeps trying.

"It is for me."

Chrissy rolled her eyes.

Steve stared at the ceiling. Unfortunately, that only made things worse. Because now there was nothing distracting him from his own thoughts. Thoughts that kept circling back to Eddie.

Eddie laughing.

Eddie looking at him.

Eddie actually coming to help him even though he has been nothing more than a completely asshole to him.

Eddie admitting that…

Fuck.

His stomach immediately did something strange and everything clicked in his head. He remembers now and…

Actually fuck, fucking, fuck.

“Oh, fucking shit,” Steve said as he jerked up to sit up again.

“What?” Chrissy stood up as well, looking at him with a concerned look.

“Shit, shit. I… I need to,” his brain was going a thousand miles per hour. He then stumbled out of bed and headed to the bathroom, “Fuck, I need to talk to Eddie.” He finished explaining as he closed the door.

“What?” Chrissy yelled from the other side.

But Steve was already busy brushing his teeth and washing his face with cold water. After he felt a bit more presentable, he came back to his room, where Chrissy was now sitting down on his bed, a very weirded out look on her face.

“I will explain later. I… Where are my fucking shoes? I need to talk to him now.”

Chrissy continued staring at him. "Steve."

"No."

"Steve."

He pointed at her without looking up from where he was searching under his bed.

"I swear to God, if you ask me a single question right now, I'm jumping out the window."

"We're on the second floor."

"I'll survive."

"Debatable."

Steve finally located one shoe near his dresser. The second one took another thirty seconds of increasingly aggressive searching. By the time he found it, Chrissy was still watching him with the exact same expression. It was making him very nervous.

“Steve,” she said softer this time.

“Chrissy, please, I…”

“Just, don’t fuck it up,” she interrupted him and he was taken aback.

For a moment, Steve just stared at her, something in his chest tightened painfully, because everybody seemed to know something he didn't. Everybody seemed to be looking at him like there was an answer standing right in front of him and he was the only idiot incapable of seeing it.

"Chrissy..."

Her expression softened.

“Go,” she smiled and there was something about it that made Steve think that she understood.

“I promise I will expl…”

“Steve, go,” Chrissy said and pushed him softly towards the door.

“Okey, okey… Yes, I am going now,” Steve said quickly as he head to the stairs. “I love you,” he then shouted.

“I love you too.”

And then he was out of the house climbing into his car. And suddenly Steve couldn't stop thinking about the look on Eddie's face last night. He could see all the emotions going through him, terrified, embarrassed, hopeful. Like he'd ripped something important out of his own chest and handed it over with shaking hands.

And Steve… Jesus Christ. He had been high. He'd been so completely out of his mind that Eddie probably woke up this morning assuming that the conversation never happened. Maybe hoping it hadn't.

The thought made Steve feel sick. Because it had happened. Every second of it. And for some strange reason he wanted to make sure that Eddie knew that Steve remembered it, that even though he had been out of his mind, he hadn’t been talking to a wall.

The engine roared to life beneath him. Steve backed out of the driveway too fast, the tires protested but he barely noticed. All he could think about was finding Eddie. Finding him and… And then what?

The question hit so suddenly that Steve almost missed a stop sign. His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

What exactly was he planning to say?

Hey Eddie, I remember everything.

Okay, great, straight to the point it seems. Then what?

Steve swallowed hard.

Because twenty minutes ago that had felt like enough. Now it didn't. Now he was trapped inside his own car with nowhere to run from himself.

The roads were mostly empty.

Sunlight spilled across the dashboard.

Everything looked normal.

Which felt ridiculous considering his entire life appeared to be collapsing. His mind replayed the conversation whether he wanted it to or not.

“Steve, I have had a crush on you since, like, forever.”

God, the memory made his stomach twist. And not just because Eddie liked him, not because it was wrong, but mainly because Eddie had looked terrified when he said it. Like he expected Steve to destroy him.

And Steve hated that.

The realization arrived quietly, it settled somewhere deep inside his chest. Eddie had been scared of him. Scared enough that he had spent years keeping his mouth shut.

Steve's grip tightened.

Because that wasn't fair. Eddie had always been loud, the obnoxious type, the one that was impossible to ignore. The kind of person who seemed incapable of hiding anything even if he tried to. Except apparently this. Apparently, Eddie had carried it around for years.

His stomach turned again, this time for a different reason. Because he remembered what he'd said too, every humiliating second of it, he started to regret not smoking more last night.

“I keep thinking about you all the time.”

Steve groaned and smacked the steering wheel. "Jesus Christ." Heat crawled up his neck. How had Eddie survived that conversation? How had he survived it? He remembered standing in the kitchen looking at Eddie. Remembered the way the light caught on his rings. The way his hair kept falling onto his face. The way his eyes softened every time Steve started to feel overwhelmed.

And suddenly the memory became too vivid, too real and the air inside the car started to feel thinner. Steve rolled the window down immediately gasping for air, but it did nothing, the feeling kept rising through his throat. Because now another memory surfaced, one he had tried so hard to avoid but for some fucked up reason he had to brough it up last night.

The nurse's office. Eddie sitting outside the door waiting. Not because he had to. Not because anyone asked him to. Just because he wanted to make sure Steve was okay, and he had been a complete asshole to him. The memory hurt, but not in a bad way, just in a way Steve didn't have a name for. Because nobody had ever stayed for him like that. Not when they didn't want something from him. Not when there wasn't a reason.

Except Eddie.

Eddie had stayed. Eddie always stayed, even Steve had tried so hard to push him away.

The realization hit so hard that Steve nearly pulled the car over, his chest tightened, and something warm and awful spread through him. Because suddenly he could trace it backwards.

That first time Eddie had come to him at the cafeteria.

The nurse's office.

Family Video.

Every conversation.

Every argument.

Every time Eddie walked into a room and Steve immediately noticed.

Every time he looked for him in a crowded space.

Every time Eddie laughed and Steve felt strangely lighter afterward.

The pattern was there. It had always been fucking there. And for the first time in his life Steve was actually looking at it. It was spread wide before his eyes, and he could feel his throat close.

"No." The word escaped automatically. His pulse jumped. "No." Because if he kept following that thought…

If he let himself finish it…

Then there was only one conclusion waiting at the end.

One answer.

One terrifying possibility.

And Steve wasn't ready for it. Wasn't ready for the way his chest hurt when Eddie was upset. Wasn't ready for the way his entire body relaxed whenever Eddie smiled at him. Wasn't ready for the fact that last night, standing in that kitchen, Eddie had looked at him like he was something worth staying for.

And instead of running, instead of feeling disgusted, Steve had wanted him to keep looking. The realization landed with enough force to make him physically flinch.

His throat tightened.

His hands shook.

And for one horrible second, he considered turning the car around and going back home to keep running from all his problems. To keep pretending none of this was happening, that’s he didn't understand that he was still confused. Because confusion was easier, it didn't ask anything of him, it didn't threaten to change everything. But Eddie had stood in front of him and told the truth. The least Steve could do was stop lying to himself.

The thought should've made him feel better. Instead it made him feel sick. Because for the first time Steve was starting to understand exactly why he'd been panicking for months.

And somehow that was far more terrifying than not knowing.