Chapter Text
It was insanity. Steve's friends, his family, his world were in danger and all he could think about was Eddie Munson (his hands, his hair, his breath, his lips). The wheels of Steve's bike creaked over the rocky ground as he stared at the back of the other boy, heart thumping, mind racing because Eddie felt the same way, at least in some sense. And Steve knew this (he knew it) because Eddie's friends and Family and world were in danger too, and he had been the one who reached for Steve, wrapped his finger around Steve's wrist and put his hand on Steve's thigh and Steve was going to crash his bike if he didn't stop thinking about that.
The bike ride was the longest seven miles Steve had ever travelled. Each vine-covered road seemed longer than the last as they sped their way to Eddie's trailer, Steve's eyes trained on Eddie the entire time, desperate to talk about what had just happened.
Finally, they turned into the trailer park, streetlights flickering around them.
"That's gotta be a Guinness world record," Robin said, trotting to the door of Eddie's trailer, "most miles travelled inter-dimensionally."
Steve coughed, pushing into the trailer, careful of the tendrils encasing the entire room. Red light flooded the space, emitted from the glowing gash in the ceiling.
"This is where Chrissy died," Eddie said, voice shaking and eyes stuck to the gate, "like, right where she died."
The vines surrounding the rip writhed, something dark moved behind the thin film covering the gap, poking in. Steve stepped back, pulling at the back of Robin's jacket as he did. The thing on the other side of the gate pushed again, stretching the cover thin until it broke, spraying foul-smelling substance through the room and revealing warm, inviting light from the other side. Robin screamed in surprise and when Steve glanced over at her, she grabbed Nancy's hand, clinging on for dear life. Nancy grabbed back, staring up at the ceiling fearfully.
The movement stopped and Steve edged cautiously towards the gate, motioning for the others to follow as he did.
When he looked through he saw Dustin, Erica, Max and Lucas staring up at him (down at him?) from the other side, he had never been so relieved to see the kid's faces and hear Dustin's chuckle and Erica's bright smile.
"Holy shit, this is trippy," Robin said, staring up (down) at the kids with disbelief.
"Yeah," Eddie agreed, knitting his eyebrows together and looking around the trailer, "But how are we getting through?"
"Oh," Dusting yelled, grinning, "Don't you worry about that!"
---
Robin climbed through first, struggling up the make-shift rope and falling onto the stained mattress (Eddie had had the courtesy to look sheepish when they had dragged it out claiming he didn't know where the stains had come from. Steve didn't believe him).
Eddie followed Robin, long arms grabbing at the sheets, Steve only got a little bit distracted by the muscles in his hands tensing.
Nancy looked at Steve, motioning for him to go next. Steve simply crossed his arms and looked at her, disbelieving. She rolled her eyes and pulled herself up, tumbling through the gap in the dimension and landing awkwardly on her left arm. Robin helped her up, both girls looked shaken but otherwise okay.
Steve ignored the shooting pain in his abdomen as he forced himself upwards, stomach turning as the gravity suddenly changed around him, pulling him down onto the mattress. He pushed himself to his feet, meeting Dustin's curious eyes and knowing he was about to be hit by a barrage of well-intended questions that he was too tired to answer.
Lucas and Dustin opened their mouths at the same time, Erica looking up expectantly at Steve. Robin put her hand up, stopping the boys from saying anything, "Tomorrow," She muttered, "We'll tell you tomorrow, we need to sleep."
Eddie hummed his approval, looking around his trailer, "Where though? We can't stay here."
"We can stay at mine," Nancy offered.
"No we can't," Dustin replied, turning to Nancy and grimacing, "long story."
Robin flapped her hand around, getting their attention, "My parents are out of town, my house isn't too big but," She looked at her friends, taking stock, "it should be okay, and Steve's car is only about ten minutes away, but I don't think he should be driving." she gestured to his bandaged torso.
"I'll be fine, Rob," Steve said following his friends to the door, "Don't want any of you nut-cases driving, plus I need to take my car back to my place,"
"Are you sure you want to be on your own?" Nancy asked from Robin's other side, their hands still intertwined.
"I can stay with you," Eddie said suddenly, Steve's stomach did a flip, "They won't be expecting me to stay at Steve's house and then you won't be alone," He paused, looking into Steve's eyes for the first time since the stairs, "consider it compensation for staying with me in the boat-house, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay." Steve felt unsteady on his feet, clinging to the jacket around his shoulders like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
They clambered into his car, Lucas and Dustin squished together in the trunk, Nancy almost on top of Robin as Erica took up a lot more room than she needed to, spreading her arms out and grinning over at a disgruntled-looking Max. Eddie got in the front next to Steve, leaning low against the car and covering his face with his hair, making sure no one could see him through the window.
Maybe he shouldn't be driving Steve thought, shaking himself awake at the wheel, pushing on the gas, going just a bit too fast towards Robin's house, only caring slightly as his friends were jostled in the back seats.
Pulling up to Robin's house, Steve listened to the endless chatter of Dustin, interrogating Robin as she climbed from the car, searching for a house key in her jacket pockets. Nancy walked towards the door, listening to Max fill her in on what had happened while they were in the upside-down.
Steve watched, heart full of endearment as Robin tripped up the stairs before letting them into the house. Max gave them a small wave before closing the door behind her. The lights in the kitchen turned on as Steve drove away, a strange silence settling over him and Eddie.
"You're never gonna get that shirt back," Eddie muttered, eyes half-closed,
"What?" Steve asked, amused, looking at the other boy in the rear-view mirror, catching his eye and quickly looking away,
"Your yellow shirt," Eddie said, "the one you took off in the boat."
"Oh yeah, shame," Steve replied, "I liked that shirt."
"It was a good colour on you."
Steve blinked hard, hands tightening around the wheel. That shouldn't be allowed. "I don't know," Steve could feel Eddie's eyes on him, "I like this colour on me too."
He gestured to Eddie's jacket and heard the other boy shift beside him. Steve pushed harder on the gas, the five-minute journey feeling longer in the silent car, in the charged anticipation.
Steve's house finally came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Shitting hell, Harrington," Eddie said swinging his legs out of the car, "I knew you were rich but... christ."
"Yeah," Steve reached for the spare key, hidden (rather badly) under the welcome mat, "c'mon."
Eddie walked into the entryway, watching Steve flick the lights on, "It's very..." He glanced around himself, "Beige?"
"I guess," Steve laughed, climbing the stairs "Guest bathroom is the first door on the left, I'll grab you some clean clothes, okay?"
Eddie turned away from Steve, shrugging off his jacket and muttering "Fucking guest bathroom" under his breath as he reached the top of the stairs.
Steve grinned to himself, comfort flooding him as soon as he entered his bedroom. He rummaged through his wardrobe and fished out an oversized T-shirt and his least ratty pair of sweat pants, making his way down the landing, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Yeah," Eddie said, lock clicking and door opening slightly, "come in."
Steve pushed through the door, arms full and saw Eddie staring at himself in the mirror. He'd taken off his jacket and had the sleeves of his shirt pulled up to his elbows, bruises and small cuts littered his arms and neck, a particularly nasty-looking cut on his left arm, just below his elbow. Noticing Steve staring at him he smiled wearily, "Not even sure how I got most of these," he lifted his shirt, revealing a massive, purple bruise on his ribs, "I know how I got this one though. I don't think you should be allowed around oars anymore, Harrington, you can do some damage with one."
"I think you got me back for that though," Steve met Eddie's gaze in the mirror, "The whole wall, shard of glass, almost sliting my throat thing?"
"Oh yeah. I'm not sorry."
Steve threw the clothes at Eddie, watching them hit his chest and fall to the floor, "Take a shower, you stink," He walked out of the bathroom, "there should be a toothbrush in the cabinet."
"Thanks, Harrington."
"No problem, Munson." Steve leant against the wall opposite the bathroom, listening as the shower turned on and Eddie swore under his breath at the temperature of the water.
Shaking his head, Steve walked into his bathroom, breathing in familiar smells and running warm water into the sink, taking a cloth and wetting it. He winced as he cleaned the grime and blood from himself. Jaw tightening as he peeled the bandage from around his stomach. After gently washing his wounds (and regretting that he hadn't asked Eddie to do it for him but accepting that that might've been a little bit forward) he reached into the cabinet above his sink and pulled out a small first aid kit.
He bought one after he'd got in that fight with Johnathan and it had come in very handy the last few years. Steve unrolled the clean linen and wrapped it around himself, biting down on the groan threatening to escape him.
He tied off the end of the bandage and stood back up, examining his handy work in the mirror. Someone else (Eddie, Steve's brain supplied unhelpfully) could've done a lot better but it wasn't bad for a first try.
Steve pulled Eddie's jacket back over his shoulders and stood in the doorway, listening. He couldn't hear the shower.
There was a click of a door unlocking. The smell of Steve's shampoo and citrus body wash flooded the hallway, the steam billowing from the door casting a hazy fog over the room. Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, hair pulled into a loose bun on the top of his head, dripping water onto his shirt (Steve's shirt). Eddie padded barefoot down the hallway, yawning into the crook of his elbow. He almost didn't notice Steve. Almost.
"Christ, Steve," He said, jumping slightly, "You tryna' give me a heart attack?"
Steve didn't reply, he feared that if he opened his mouth every feeling and anxiety and sordid thought swimming in his head would spill from his mouth. The sight of Eddie Munson (in his T-shirt, hair pulled up to reveal his face and, dear God, a tattoo just behind his ear) was too much. Steve swallowed the words that sat in his throat, forcing the want, the need , to place his lips on the tattoo behind Eddie's ear and instead stared at him blankly.
"You okay, Harrington?" Eddie laughed, it sounded strained, "Not possessed are you?"
"We need to talk about what happened today."
Eddie looked down at his feet, curly strands of hair falling out of the bun and into his face, "I didn't think you'd want to talk about it," Eddie said, leaning against the wall opposite Steve, raising an eyebrow, it looked like a challenge, "just a mistake, right?"
"Is that what you think?" Steve, closed the door behind him, stepping toward Eddie, "Is that what you want?"
"No," He looked at Steve, the same expression on his face he'd had in the Upside-down, "But, I just guessed that because you're... well you that-"
"That's a bold assumption." Steve took another step across the hall, heart thumping.
"Well am I wrong?" Eddie asked, breathing fast and still pressed against the wall. His gaze was locked onto Steve's, eyes only moving to flick down to the other boy's lips, eyebrows raised in a question, an invitation.
Steve moved towards Eddie until he could feel the heat radiating from him. One hand moved to the side of Eddie's head against the wall, and the other settled on his hip.
"Yes," Steve said, mouth hovering inches from Eddie's, allowing him to close the space between them, "You're wrong."
Eddie kept his eyes fixed on Steve's, a small smile ghosting his lips, his right hand settled on Steve's bare chest and he pushed, breath still drifting over Steve, lips not quite touching as he drove Steve into the bathroom door.
"Deja vu," Steve muttered, dragging his fingers under the fabric of Eddie's shirt.
"Shut it, Harrington," Eddie replied, leaning in and pressing their lips together.
Steve was barely able to stifle a whimper at the contact.
Eddie's hands were everywhere; cradling Steve's jaw, tugging his hair, moving gently over the fresh gauze on his stomach, digging his painted nails into his neck. Steve let his hands wander up to Eddie's damp hair, feeling it fall over his fingers, soft and curling. He'd imagined this for days, he'd hoped for this for a lot longer.
Eddie laced his fingers through Steve's, ever-present rings cold against Steve's hand. Eddie placed their intertwined hands against the door just above Steve's head, pulled back and focused his attention on Steve's neck, kissing a slow line down his throat, sucking on his pulse point.
He's done this before , Steve thought, amused, arching his neck into the movement. Steve had missed this, kissing someone he cared about. He'd almost forgotten the heart-racing, stomach-flipping thrill of it. Steve used his free hand to pull Eddie's face to be level with his own, brushing his thumb over his bottom lip.
Eddie tugged on the hair at the nape of Steve's neck, incredulous, small smile as Steve breathed through his teeth, shivering.
Eddie pulled Steve's hand to his lips, setting a gentle kiss on the middle knuckle. Steve blushed, feeling the sudden need to look away.
"Your place or mine?" Steve whispered, leaning to place his lips on the small tattoo behind Eddie's ear. Finally , is all he can think.
"Your place, Harrington."
---
Steve awoke to the sun filtering through his windows, adorning his room with a certain warmth, making it gleam in the morning sunlight.
Eddie was curled on his side, facing Steve, his back to the bright light that shines onto his pale skin.
Steve just stared. Taking in the long, fair arms, healing bruises obvious against his light skin. Steve's eyes travelled across his chest, rising and falling slowly, a patchwork of tattoos covering his skin. Steve's favourite (he'd decided last night) was the winding vine and barbed wire around Eddie's hip.
Steve reached out, gently brushing the hair from Eddie's face and running his thumb over his jaw.
The light hit his curly hair from behind and Steve wasn't sure how to describe it, beautiful didn't seem to do it justice.
He pulled back his hand, not wanting to wake him.
Glowing, he thinks, unable to look away from the halo of curls, he's glowing.