Chapter Text
Much like her son, and luckily for Eddie Munson, Teresa Harrington was a paranoid woman.
Between the myriad of rooms, the attic, both basements, and the multiple scattered offices, the Harrington house, in all its glory, was truly a labyrinth. Along with the usual hiding places, there were at least three false doors that lead to back rooms and hidden exits.
Despite the fact the gaggle of jocks in Richard’s office likely had no interest in reading up on Magical Realism, Eddie squeezed himself into the furthest corner of the hidden room behind it, watching dust dance through the yellow sliver of light passing under the door.
“I can’t find anything.”
“He has to be here,” Jason said, strained. “There was cereal on the counter and the milk was fucking cold.”
Eddie swallowed, backing further into the corner.
“Maybe we try somewhere else,” one of his goons suggested timidly. “I think- I mean, I heard that there was someone seen by Reefer Rick’s-”
“What?” Jason barked.
With a furrow of his brow, Eddie turned his ear towards the door.
Rick Lipton was locked up tight; minimum security or no, he wouldn’t be in Hawkins for a very long time. Given all of Reagan’s belligerent babbling the last six years, that wouldn't even be a question.
Before they left for investigation of the old Creele house, Eddie had seen Robin give Steve a shaky smile, eyes wild.
The look he had sent back at her had seemed odd at the time, but after all, as smooth as Steve Harrington thought he was, Robin Buckley had a shit poker face.
“He’s Eddie’s supplier.” The first jock continued. “He-”
“Let's go.”
“Now? But we-”
“Not like there’s anything else here,” Jason interrupted.
“Harrington-”
He scoffed. “Who cares? He hangs out with that fag and the rest of his Hellfire cult.” Jason grew quiet for a moment before he continued. “It’ll send a message.”
After some shuffling, silence seeped in through the gap in the door.
A sigh escaped Eddie, his head falling back at the sound of the front door slamming shut. “Psychopath,” he said to himself, practically whispering even though the house was likely empty. He glanced up at the clock over the door, frowning when the time read nearly nine-thirty.
The sun shining under the door told him otherwise.
Eddie took a deep breath, holding it in for a beat too long. As he exhaled, he felt the tension wrapped around his limbs and his chest unwind. He swallowed, pulling his legs to his chest before resting his forehead against his knees. He could wait until they came back for him. He closed his eyes, shifting to lay back against the floor.
Steve would be home soon.
Time drew on, slowly. It seemed to draw on like it did in Hawkins High, the many utilitarian looking clocks mocking him as he stared on, powerlessly. If only the second hand on the damn clock would move.
Eddie's eyes drooped closed as the strip of sun flooding under the door faded.
The grandfather clock chimed loudly, making him sit up with a sharp gasp.
He looked down at his watch, frowning at the blank face. After slapping it with his palm, he watched the time blink back at him for just a second before his watch started to heat up. Quickly, he undid the latch, flinging it from his wrist.
A loud pop echoed through the empty room.
Horrified, Eddie watched a small plume of smoke rise from where his watch lay on the floor. He blinked, fighting how fatigue clung to him. When silence continued to permeate from the rest of the house, he pushed to his feet, wandering closer to the door.
The third row of books lining the entrance to the room hidden behind the study had a thin slit just shy of the next shelf. The opening was only about as thick as a quarter and maybe four inches long, enough to glance back into the office.
The office lay dormant, chairs and drawers overturned.
Paper littered the floor.
While Eddie had the inclination to step out and start taking care of the mess, he could already hear Steve berating him for not waiting until it was safe.
Until Steve confirmed it was safe to come out.
Eddie backed away from the door, instead wandering to the desk perpendicular. He took a seat on the leather chair. The desk was smaller than that in the main office, but still every bit as grand as the home surrounding it.
Bored, he pulled the top drawer open, head cocking to the side as he skimmed through the few photographs littering the nearly empty space.
Teresa stood in one picture, wrapped in colourblocked fabric. Steve, likely not much older than five, balanced on her hip while they smiled and waved in front of the Harrington home. A for sale sign stood beside them, a large sold sticker blocked out a majority of the writing.
Sold!! the bottom echoed in Richard's thick, blocky handwriting. 7/1/71!
Another photo captured a smaller version of Steve sat on a bar top, somewhere down south, laughing with Richard.
Teresa’s perfect, looping handwriting filled the bottom white rectangle; Steve and Richard. Patagonia. 3 January 1979
Steve with his perfectly pretentious hair, grinning like the devil in front of his pretty new Beamer.
SWEET Sixteen - June ‘82
The next photo gave him pause.
Eddie and Steve sat on the floor in the living room, asleep on one another in front of the couch. Rainbow Christmas lights lined the walls around them as wrapping paper littered the cream carpets.
CHRISTMAS ‘85, filled the half inch white rectangle along the bottom of the photo in thick black marker, Robin’s handwriting.
As he thumbed through the drawer, Eddie's fingers caught on a newer looking photo.
Blood smeared along his hand, Steve stood on stage at the Hide Out, eyes squeezed shut as he screamed into a microphone. The strap of his guitar cut across his chest as it lay at his back, borderline useless with one string snapped.
Eddie stood in the background, bathed in shadows while he played Steve's part.
Metal God, Steve (fmrly Th Hr) Harrington, March ‘86.
At the sight of his awful scribbles on Robin’s photograph, Eddie shut the drawer.
After a breath, he pushed his chair back. Tongue between his teeth, Eddie sank to the floor below, fitting himself under the desk. A sigh escaped him after he wrapped his arms around his legs again. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his knees.
He had barely leaned back against one of the side panels when an unmistakable click echoed through the office.
One of the side panels fell forward when he turned to look, laying open against his shoulder.
With furrowed brows, Eddie peaked inside. He reached down, fingers finding a yellowing envelope.
my dearest r.
Peaking into the envelope, Eddie's eyes widened at the handwriting that almost certainly hadn’t belonged to Teresa scrolled along the many pages inside. Out of habit, he glanced down at his wrist, frowning at the memory of rising smoke. With a sigh, he grabbed the envelope before squeezing out from below the desk. Carefully, he opened the envelope, thumbing through the pages as he paced.
The letter, in a few words, was nothing less than pure filth. All about longing and missing touch and lucidious acts.
He paused by the opposite edge of the room, looking up at a bottle of strawberry wine. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed the bottle, gracelessly sinking to the floor.
“-what?” Steve’s voice filtered in through the gap under the door.
Eddie’s shoulders fell as relief flooded through him.
Robin scoffed. “God, your skull must be so thick.”
“Hey,” Steve whined. “What?” he repeated when Robin didn’t continue.
“Your mother would be disappointed.”
He scoffed. “Okay, you need to stop calling my dad just to catch up.”
She laughed dryly. “Use those gorgeous ojos of yours, Esteven.” After a moment of silence passed, Robin groaned loudly. “Oh my god, the book.”
A beat hung between them- “Oh.” The light under the door bent and flickered as Steve stepped closer. With a soft click, the door unlocked.
Warm yellow light flooded in as the door opened.
Steve took a step before he paused. In the threshold of the dark back room, artificial light bathing him from behind, he almost looked angelic. He came closer, stopping a few feet shy of Eddie with a small, tired smile.
“Like what I’ve done with the place?” Eddie asked sarcastically, voice raspy from disuse. He cleared his throat when Steve wandered over, sitting down in front of him, cross-legged.
Steve’s hands settled on his ankles. “I think we had shitty decorators.”
Breathing a sigh of relief at the gentle touch, Eddie shrugged a shoulder. “They came for free.”
“So do roaches,” Steve mumbled, scrunching his nose up in disgust. He smiled when Eddie rolled his eyes. “How long have you been in here?”
Eddie looked at the door, watching Robin wandering in the office, just out of earshot, but close by. “I don’t know. A few hours, maybe.”
“Hours?”
He nodded, glancing at the clock hanging by the door. “I think.” He jerked his chin, watching Steve turn. “But I don't know, really. Batteries are dead in that one and my watch freaked out on me a little while ago.”
“Your watch?” With a frown, Steve looked back at him. “Wait, did you eat?”
Weakly, Eddie laughed, wiping a hand over his face. “No,” he grumbled behind his palm. He took a deep breath before continuing. “The Testosterone Terrorists had the courtesy to ring the bell mere seconds after I finished making something to eat.”
“Eddie.”
“It's fine,” he mumbled against his palm.
“No, it's not.”
Eddie shrugged, looking over at his watch. After a moment of simmering frustration, he reached out, snagging it from the floor. He glanced down at the face, waiting for it to do anything at all before he slapped his palm against it. When the seconds blinked, frozen and half fazed on the digital display, he sighed, dropping it haphazardly onto the floor. “Should have listened to you.”
“What?”
“Digital sucks,” Eddie mumbled, drawing a laugh from Steve. “What?”
“You love your watch.”
“Yeah, well, not anymore. The thing tried to kill me, man! So not worth death or at least third degree burns for the calculator in Mundy’s class.”
Steve reached out, snagging the watch. He looked down, smile slipping slowly.
“What?”
“The time.”
Eddie’s brows knit together. “What?” he repeated, even more confused.
“The time,” Steve said again, blinking before he continued. “I think it means something.” He looked back at Eddie, lips downturned. “I should show Nancy-”
“Go,” Eddie interrupted with a sigh, leaning back against the floor.
“Eddie-”
“Go,” he repeated, nudging Steve with his foot. “Show Daphne your clue.”
After a moment of hesitation, Steve pushed to his feet. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
Eddie grunted in response, covering his face with his arm.
A sigh escaped Steve before he walked off.
Moments later, a shadow creeped over Eddie, blocking the light from Richard’s office. “I told you to go,” he mumbled, ignoring the headache blooming behind his eyes.
“You’re insane if you think you can tell me what to do just because you have Steve wrapped around your finger, Munson.”
Eddie pulled his arm away from his face, blinking when he saw Robin looking down at him from the doorway. “Oh,” he said softly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she echoed, coming closer. She sat next to him, looking at the door before her gaze met his. “Where’s he off to?”
“Showing Nancy my watch,” he mumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes again. “It exploded at a good time, apparently.”
“Exploded?”
Eddie shrugged. “Not the craziest part of this week.”
“We need to look into the power of positivity.”
“You sound like a camp councillor.”
“Excuse you,” she scoffed. “I am head camp councillor.”
“Hey, guys?” Steve called, wandering back into the office.
“And there’s my assistant.”
Eddie grinned when the comment flew over Steve's head. He sat up when he noticed Nancy close behind, swallowing down his smile. “What’s wrong?”
Nancy sighed, sitting down next to Robin.
Max followed, squeezing between Eddie and Steve. “What happened to your watch?” she asked, looking down at the face held in Nancy’s hands.
Lucas and Dustin wandered in behind her, sitting close by.
“I don't know,” Eddie sighed. “I fell asleep for a bit. When I woke up, I wanted to check the time, but my watch was being weird, so I hit it, and then it started getting really hot, and I do in fact, mean the third degree kind, so I threw the thing off. Then-” He made a noise, mimicking something exploding with one hand.
“Kablooey,” Robin finished, intrigued.
“Exactly.”
“At the exact same time our flashlights surged,” Nancy said, gears visibly turning in her head.
“So, what?” Steve asked. “Vecna’s messing with everyone’s clocks now?” He glanced back at Dustin before meeting Eddie’s gaze, eyes wide. “Wait, was I right? Is he a clock maker? Henderson looked at me like I was nuts-”
“I just don’t think it’s a valid theory with what we know,” Dustin rambled, ignoring when Steve spoke over him. His eyes never left the compass in his hand as he turned it back and forth.
“But he could be, right?” Steve asked. “This is the second clock in this house to go all-” He paused, unsure of the right word.
“Wonky?” Robin offered.
“Right!” Steve nodded as he turned back to Eddie, hopeful.
Eddie shrugged. “That could explain the clock over the door stopping at the same time.”
Steve looked between him and the wall before frowning. “Weird.”
With a sigh, Eddie nodded.
“Regardless,” Nancy said, drawing everyone's attention back to the problem at hand. “If your watch and the clock in here stopped at the same time our flashlights exploded-"
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Exploded?”
“-the time has to mean something.”
A sigh escaped Robin. “One step closer.” she hummed in agreement, laying back with her arms out as Steve watched, processing her words.
She shrugged. “We know the when and how on Vecna’s attacks-”
“And where he attacks from,” Lucas pointed out.
“So, now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down, and drive a stake through his heart."
Steve’s brows furrowed.
“If he has a heart,” Robin scoffed.
“A stake? Is he, like-” He turned to Eddie, eyes wide. “Is he a vampire?”
Max rolled her eyes. “It was a metaphor.”
Eddie shrugged, holding Steve’s gaze. “A bullet should work on him.” He turned to Lucas. “Right?”
“I say we chop his head off,” Lucas said, shrugging his shoulders.
Steve frowned, shaking his head slightly at the idea.
Too dangerous, Eddie could already hear him mumbling.
“Listen, all of the above sounds like a great option to me,” Nancy said, glancing at Steve before she looked at the rest of the group. “But we can’t do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.”
Dustin stood, walking off with the compass.
“We need El to get her powers back,” Max grumbled.
Eddie turned when he noticed someone by the entryway. The desk in Richard’s office started back at him through the empty doorway, drawing a frown to his lips.
Nancy looked away after his attention returned to her.
“Boom!” Dustin screamed from the other room. He swaggered in, cocky smirk on his lips as all eyes turned to him.
“What?” Steve asked, his voice tight. When Dustin held up his compass, Steve groaned, letting his head fall back. “Oh my god,” he said, exasperated. “This again? I told you the Creel house was East-”
“Yes,” Dustin said. “But it wasn’t.”
Eddie watched as Steve’s anger bubbled over.
“Seriously?” he asked, snapping really. He sat up straighter, hands planted on the floor bracingly. “You’re serious right now?”
“Yes.”
“I live in West Hawkins. We’re actively on the West side of town, okay?”
Dustin nodded, his smile never wavering.
“You’re totally wrong! One hundred percent completely wrong,” he said, annoyed. “Right now!”
“Yes,” Dustin said slowly. “And no.”
“Oh my god,” Steve snapped, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
He held up the compass, smiling. “This worked correctly at the Creel house, but it started slipping further and further the closer we got to your house on the way back.”
“What?” Steve snapped.
“It’s pointed South right now.”
Eddie’s gaze flicked to the small needle of the compass. The needle pointed a hair past the blocky S printed on the bottom.
Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you’re using faulty equipment. You’re still wrong.”
“Except it isn’t faulty,” Dustin said, turning to Lucas. “You remember what can affect a compass?”
His eyes lit up. “An electromagnetic field.”
“I’m sorry,” Robin mused, looking just as confused as Steve did. “I must have skipped that class.”
“In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power.” Dustin smiled before continuing. “So, either there’s a super big magnet around here or-”
“There’s a gate,” Lucas translated.
Nancy shook her head. “But we’re nowhere near the lab.”
“Closer here than the Creel House-” Steve sighed, nodding his head. “But not, like, close.”
“What if there’s somehow another gate? A gate we don’t know about,” Dustin conspired. “It’d have to be smaller. Way less powerful.”
“Snack-sized gate,” Robin said.
“How?” Steve asked, exasperated. “Why?”
“No idea.” Dustin shrugged. “All I know is that something is causing this disturbance-” He pointed down at the compass. “And the last time we've seen anything like this, it was a gate.”
Eddie shifted, glancing over at Steve.
“And I hope it is,” Dustin admitted. “Because then, we have a way into the Upside Down and a shot at freeing Max from this curse.”
Max looked at the ground, shifting uncomfortably.
“Hey,” Steve asked when Dustin started to walk away. “Whoa, where are you going?”
“To follow my compass.”
“Oh,” Steve hummed, voice dripping in sarcasm “So, you’re just going to walk?”
“You have keys,” Dustin said with a smirk.
“Yeah, I do, and I have decided that they’re not leaving my pocket until after we’ve figured this out.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Eddie may be the one who’s wanted, but it doesn’t sound like you or I are exactly in good standing given the fact the house is trashed.”
Eddie cleared his throat, frowning when Steve turned. “Yeah, it sounded like Jason also kind of has it out for you, man.”
“Not what I wanted to hear, but thank you.” Steve sighed before continuing. “It’s also-” He glanced down at his watch with a heavy sigh. “Dude, come on. It’s, like, midnight.”
“Perfect time to get the jump on him!”
“Yeah,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Not if I pass out behind the wheel and drive us off the road on the way there.”
“But-”
“No,” Steve said, making a somewhat final gesture with his open palm hovering over the floor. “We’re done. We can talk about our next plan after breakfast.” He walked out of the room before anyone could argue. “During breakfast, maybe, if you’re feeling chatty and I can stand the sound of you yapping that early!”
“Steve,” Dustin wined, following after him.
Slowly, the room started to thin.
Robin chased off after Steve before Lucas and Max followed.
Nancy left last, lingering for only a moment before she followed the commotion down the hall.
Eddie considered following, wanting to chase after them and make sure Steve was alright. He listened as the volume in the other room rose and fell before ultimately cutting off at the sound of a holler from Steve.
Time seemed to slow until Steve knelt down in front of Eddie. “Hey,” he breathed, gently. “What are you still doing here?”
Eddie sighed, looking up from the bottle in his hands. “Found something.”
“Oh, god,” Steve laughed, shifting to lean back against the book shelf beside Eddie. He held out a hand. “Is it a good year or something?”
“Not what I found.” Eddie reached between them, picking up an envelope from beneath his outstretched thigh. “Look at this.”
“Oh,” Steve said softly. “That’s not what I- okay.” His fingers played with the flap as he glanced inside. “I’m still an only child,” he joked. “Right?”
A laugh escaped Eddie. “I didn’t see anything contradicting that, but we haven’t really snooped now, have we?”
“Yeah, it’s early.” He leaned into Eddie’s side, thumbing the envelope open. After clearing his throat, Steve pulled out the letter, brows raising at the number of pages. “It’s early,” he sighed, defeated.
Eddie watched over Steve’s shoulder as he started reading.
“My dearest r,” he mumbled to himself. Slowly, his eyes widened. Somewhere near the bottom of the first page, his hand fell to his lap. “Oh, this is-“
“Yeah.”
Steve’s head cocked to the side, looking back at the letter again. “-kind of raunchy.”
Eddie blinked, slowly processing Steve’s words. “Excuse me?”
“This shit is dirty, dude-“
“What is wrong with you?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to be talking to a goddamn therapist about this, for sure, but like-” He cocked his head to the side. “Weird, dude.”
“You’re right about one thing.”
“Don’t be an ass.” Steve smacked him with the envelope, looking back at the letter. Without preamble, he wiggled his way under Eddie’s arm, pushing into Eddie’s personal space as he continued reading.
Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve, ringed fingers settling on his shoulder. His head tipped back against the wall as Steve read, focusing on the lowly lit ceiling. Eddie watched a crack crawl along the ceiling from the corner by the door.
His eyes closed.
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed.
“God,” Steve finally scoffed, resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder. “Good for Richy.”
With a smile, Eddie bumped his temple against the top of Steve’s head. “You’re insane.”
“Oh, totally.” Steve shrugged before continuing. “But, like,” he paused, shifting so their legs were mostly parallel, Eddie’s hand slid to Steve’s other shoulder. “I don’t know. My parents were never good at hiding shit. I’m just surprised he never mentioned whoever D is.”
Eddie laid down beside him. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Steve hummed, reaching out for an errant curl before absentmindedly wrapping it around his finger. “They just- they weren’t, like, parental people. Like, I don’t think they ever did the baby talk thing when I was a kid. I just always remember them speaking to me like I was a person.”
Eddie’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Like, my mom used to tell me about her escapades in the school bathroom with cigarettes or boys. Dad always had this stupid wink he gave me when the waitress was hot-“
Eddie’s nose scrunched up before he laughed. “Gross.”
Steve chuckled, nodding. “Definitely, but also- probably would have been worse to grow up with them being cold on top of it all, you know? At least they liked talking to me.”
A sigh left Eddie before he reached up to trace his thumb along the edge of Steve’s jaw. “Stevie.”
“Weird relationship, sure, but at least we have a relationship.”
Eddie’s tongue swiped over his lips before he nodded. “Fair enough.”
Steve hummed, gingerly tugging at Eddie’s hair. He smiled when Eddie met his gaze.
Eddie couldn’t help but smile back.
His hand settled on Eddie’s cheek. “You like your parents?”
Eddie chuckled. “Loaded question.”
Steve shrugged, letting his head lull back before continuing. “Usually is.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re not wrong.”
A small, proud smile found its way to Steve’s lips before he nodded Eddie on.
Eddie’s hand shifted, finding a place in Steve’s hair, coaxing him closer. His eyes slipped closed when their temples met. “Everything with my parents kind of sucked.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie nodded. “My dad-” He sighed. “I don’t think he knows how to grow up. He was just really unreliable, always. My mama loved him, at least.” After a moment, he continued. “I think.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.” Eddie went quiet for a breath before working up the courage to continue. “I didn’t get a chance to know her much. She- well, she died when I was pretty young. Wayne’s been stuck with me ever since.”
“Shit, man. I’m so sorry-” Steve moved to twist closer, pausing when Eddie’s fingers tightened in his hair.
“It was a long time ago,” he said. Somehow, talking about it all felt easier when he didn’t have to hold Steve’s gaze. A breath left him when Steve’s fingers curled around Eddie’s wrist, grounding him. “She went quickly. I think Doc’s famous last words on everything were, could have been worse, but I don’t remember too much.”
Steve stiffened at his words. “Jesus.”
“Yeah, Wayne was pissed that was how he phrased it to a seven-year-old, but not the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.” A tight smile found Eddie’s lips as he stared at the ceiling. “She didn’t suffer. If nothing else, that’s enough.”
Steve went quiet before he spoke again, voice soft. “Tell me about her?”
Eddie hummed, running his fingers through Steve’s hair soothingly. “I think you would have liked her.”
“Yeah?” Steve asked, breathy.
Eddie nodded, blinking Steve into view under the warm yellow light fastened to the ceiling. “You guys would have had fun talking about music.”
A smile flashed over Steve’s lips before his gaze fell to his lap.
Eddie cleared his throat before speaking again. “Anyway, I- well, I love that book, dude.”
“What?”
“One Thousand Years of Solitude.” The ticket from Richard’s office into Teresa’s little escape room. “It’s my new favourite,” Eddie said. His smile felt tight, eyes wide, as if he were insane. “Thankful it allowed me to continue being a coward.”
Steve frowned, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Ed-”
“No, it’s fine.” He shrugged, holding Steve tightly through the jerky movement. “All I do is run. I ran from Chrissy, and from Jason-”
“You did what I told you to,” Steve interrupted.
“Sweetheart.”
“You did,” he said firmly. “Jason’s crazy. He would have killed you. I taught you all the hiding spots for a reason, Eddie.”
He sighed, reaching out to play with the hem of Steve’s sweater; an evergreen crewneck he had borrowed from Eddie after a show a few months prior and never returned.
“We knew he was coming. The plan was for you to hide. You did what you were supposed to do.” He swallowed, wringing his hands. “To stay safe.”
Eddie’s shoulders fell.
With big, sad eyes, Steve frowned up at Eddie.
“Damn, Harrington,” Eddie scoffed, playfully pressing his hand against Steve’s cheek. “Put those away.”
A laugh erupted from him. “What?”
“Those puppy-dog eyes of yours. You know I can’t argue with those things, man, cut it out.”
“Shut up, Munson.”
“Make me, sweetheart.”
Steve smiled, gaze sweeping over Eddie’s face before he turned away. “We should go.”
“Go?”
“It’s getting late.”
“Yeah?”
Steve nodded, sparing the dead clock on the wall a glance before offering Eddie a weak smile. “It was when I came in here, at least.”
“Time for bed, grandpa?”
“Monster hunting on no sleep usually ends in disaster.”
“That’s what they say.”
With a smile, Steve pushed to his feet. He offered Eddie a hand, helping him stand. “You want to put the wine back?”
Eddie frowned, wrapping his free arm around the bottle.
Steve held out a hand as he laughed. “Come on.”
“My drink,” Eddie said, pouting.
“After.”
“You promise?”
Steve held out a pinky.
With a small smile, Eddie interlocked their pinkies. “Fine.”
Steve grinned, taking the bottle from his hand. “It’ll be worth it.” He set the bottle back on the shelf before smiling at Eddie.
“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie said, taking the hand Steve offered, helping him to his feet. “Let’s go.”
When they escaped the quiet of Teresa’s hiding space, Robin sat behind Richard’s desk.
Eddie’s hand fell to his side.
“Did you know you own the place, dingus?”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, rocking back onto his heels. He glanced at Eddie with that stupid little twinkle in his eye. Just between us. “Apparently I do.”
“Right,” Robin said slowly. “Whatever, don’t tell me.”
“What?” Steve’s eyes snapped to her, shoulders slumping as he pouted.
“No, I get it. You two have your secrets.”
“Robin,” Steve said, following her out of the office.
“It’s fine, I get it; I’m not the love of your life anymore.”
“Robin!”
Eddie sighed, hanging back to look around the office once more. He found himself staring at the green spine of Teresa’s old copy of Cien años de soledad, gold leafed text catching on the dim office lighting.
He wandered towards the door.
Of all languages, Elvish had been easy enough to teach himself. Spanish couldn’t be that bad. School never clicked with him, but maybe Teresa would-
“He drives me up a wall.” Steve groaned, leaning against the kitchen island, his back to Eddie.
Eddie stepped back into the shadows and out of view.
“Yeah,” Robin said. “But you-”
Steve interrupted her with a groan. “Don’t remind me.”
She laughed, pushing up on the counter beside him. “He does too.”
Quickly, Eddie turned away, slinking off to the living room. He paused at the threshold when he saw Max, camped out in front of cartoons she wasn’t watching. “You okay?” Eddie asked, sitting on the couch perpendicular from her.
“Peachy,” she mumbled, fiddling with the Walkman in her lap.
Eddie nodded, sinking back into the cushions.
Lucas wandered in, stopping short when he noticed Eddie adjacent to Max.
Maybe a little too quickly, Eddie stood. “Well.” He cleared his throat, locking eyes with Steve through the doorway. “I have other places to be. Night.” Without another word, he wandered off, tugging Steve behind him by the collar of his shirt.
“God, man, if you were tired, you could have just said something.”
When they finally made it to the stairs, he turned, whispering over his shoulder. “I wanted to leave them the hell alone.”
“What?” Steve asked, mirroring his volume.
“Max and Lucas.”
“Yeah?”
“They’re going to get back together.” He smiled when he noticed how Steve’s eyes lit up.
“Really?” he asked excitedly, following Eddie into the bedroom.
“Totally,” Eddie said, pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back against the bed with a tired sigh. “Give them a week, trust me.”
After stripping out of his day clothes, Steve hummed, crawling up the bed beside Eddie. He settled under the covers as Eddie pushed out of his pants. “I hope so,” Steve said.
After settling in bed beside Steve, he glanced over. “You okay?” Eddie asked.
Steve’s eyes didn't leave the ceiling. He sighed before biting his lip.
“We don't have to talk-”
“No, I-” Steve's eyes squeezed shut. “Max,” he said quietly. “She-” A humourless laugh left him. “I just wish I'd been there for her more.”
“Hey-”
“Maybe I shouldn't have joined the band. If I was around more-”
“Hey,” Eddie said more firmly. “Nothing was going to change this.” He sat up, shifting to face the headboard. He inched closer to Steve until his thigh was pressed to Steve’s hip. “Aside from that, you can't run yourself into the ground on everyone else's account.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Music is how we fight this thing, right?”
Steve nodded, looking up at Eddie with red-rimmed eyes.
“That’s our forteé. That's how we help.”
His brows furrowed.
“We’ll figure this out. You know everyone's favourite songs, and you're scary good at playing by ear. You're like our secret weapon.”
“Stop it.”
“I'm serious, Stevie! With everyone's know-how and your musical skills, we're golden.”
Steve's jaw clenched. “Eddie-”
“It's going to be okay.”
“What if it isn't?” he asked meekly.
“You’ve done this before.”
“Yeah, but this is-”
“Different, I know,” Eddie interrupted. He turned on his side, reaching out to rest his hand on Steve’s chest. “Every time before has been different- and you did it.”
“I was just a punching bag. Dustin and Max and-”
“Look,” Eddie said. “I know you think you’re a spectator, but these kids need you. They did before, and they definitely do now.”
Steve waved him off.
“By the way-” Eddie continued. “You’re not.”
“What?”
“A spectator.”
“Eddie-”
“Dude, you were legitimately tortured. You put yourself between Dustin and a foreign military.”
“Robin, too.”
“Steve.”
He hummed, going quiet for a moment. “What's your favourite song?” he asked, voice soft as he steered the conversation away from any painful topics.
“I don’t know,” Eddie sighed, giving in for the time being. “Not my favourite, but I really love Have You Ever Seen The Rain.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie nodded. “My mama-” He smiled at the memory, looking down at his lap. “She would sing when I was small. That one was one of her favourites and-” He sighed, looking down at his hands. “It just reminds me of her. Sad song, but I love it.”
“I like that one.”
Eddie hummed. His fingers ghosted along the flesh of Steve's arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “What about you?”
“Tapestry,” Steve answered easily.
“The song?”
“The album.”
Eddie nodded.
“Carole King is a goddamn genius.”
“I know, I know.” Eddie laughed, reaching out to tuck his arm under Steve’s neck. “But it seems like cheating to pick a full album.”
Steve shrugged, biting back a yawn.
“What’s a song you love?”
Steve smiled shyly, leaning his head against Eddie's shoulder. “I Sing For Things.”
Eddie couldn’t help but grin. “Steve Harrington, you are so predictable.”
“Hey!” Steve laughed. He looked up at Eddie with tired eyes.
“No, I mean it. I know you like the back of my hand.”
“Oh, yeah? How else am I predictable? Since-” A yawn interrupted before he could continue. “Since you’re such an expert.”
Eddie shifted, lying down beside Steve so they were tucked into each other’s sides. “Let’s see,” he began.
With a yawn, Steve curled closer. His cheek fell to Eddie’s shoulder after his arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t know.” With a small smile, Eddie reached up to comb his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I think you’re falling asleep.”
“No,” he whined, aware that he was lying, if his smirk was anything to go by. ”I’m not.”
Eddie hummed, not believing him. “Sure.”
A heavy sigh escaped Steve as he curled closer. He squeezed Eddie’s arm, silently urging him to continue.
“Your coffee has more milk and sugar than coffee in it.” When he noticed Steve’s sleepy smile, he continued. “You normally get up with the sun for your morning runs.” He reached out, trailing his knuckle along Steve’s cheek. “Actually, how’ve you been doing this week?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been skipping the last few mornings. Having too much fun hiding out with us?”
“It’s been kind of nice,” Steve said, voice slurred as he fought a losing battle against fatigue.
“Yeah?” He smiled when Steve nodded, already drooling on his shoulder. Eddie reached out again, earning a soft little hum when his fingers combed Steve’s hair out of his face. “Hey, Stevie?”
He hummed in acknowledgment.
“I think it’s time for bed,” Eddie said, his own eyes heavy as he let his hand fall to Steve’s shoulder before sliding down the length of his arm.