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Steve, unfortunately, still cries himself to sleep on particularly lonely nights.
It’s become ritualistic. An empty house with no food. The pizza man on speed dial. A shower that’s probably too hot and a movie so cheesy and childish it couldn’t possibly scare him.
He never means to cry. Steve considers himself somewhat regulated when it comes to emotions. He lets himself feel and he lets himself be hurt. So why does he have nights like this, where the hurt comes back suddenly? When all he can think about is the truth: no one stays around.
His parents hate being home, and they seem to hate checking up on Steve just as much. And although they’re now close friends, Nancy’s harsh words from senior year haven’t exactly left Steve’s mind. The more he thinks about it, the more he agrees with her. Loving him is bullshit.
Sometimes, he imagines a life where none of this ever happened. No supernatural beings to fight, no missing children, no nightmares… just a normal few years in Hawkins, like all the other high schooler’s got, safe in their own ignorant minds.
All this to say, Steve is not excited about his morning shift. After a night like that, he likes to wallow in his own self pity for a few hours. That won’t be happening today. He unlocks Family Video and flips the open sign for customers.
It’s a weekday, but it’s summer, so he’ll probably get a few kids in any minute now. He can distract himself by finding them the perfect movie.
The door swings open.
“Welcome to Family— Oh, hey Eddie.” Steve feels self conscious all of a sudden. Is it possible for people to sense when one is internally throwing themselves an absolute rager of a pity party? And what is Eddie doing here anyways? He prefers music to movies, and he likes sleeping in on days off, not visiting friends at their places of work.
“Stevie.” That cheeky drawl makes Steve want to hide his face. How is it that Eddie can be so energetic in the morning? His eyes aren’t even bloodshot, which makes Steve think he got the required amount of sleep instead of his usual nights of terrors and drinking himself into a coma.
And Steve worries about that a lot, so he likes that Eddie seems to be doing better.
“You looking for a movie?”
Eddie snorts. He stops browsing the newest releases and turns his gaze upon Steve. “You know me better than that, don’t you?” The words come with a pout. A fake pout meant to make Steve laugh, but damn it if he just doesn’t feel like it today. He kind of wishes he could reach out and touch Eddie. Feel the heavy leather of his jacket and know that the two of them are safe.
“Then why are you here?” He manages to ask, leaning across the counter in an attempt to look natural. Feel natural.
“Missed you,” Eddie says, shrugging nonchalantly.
But it isn’t nonchalant, is it? Because people don’t miss Steve. Especially not people like Eddie, with too-big dreams in a too-small town. He shouldn’t even be thinking of Steve, who will undoubtedly be a Hawkins townie until he dies. Because really, what else is there? Where else would he go?
Eddie is made for exposed brick and the gritty streets of New York City. Drugs and candy, rock and roll. He’s made for parties and music and makeup and stardom. So how on earth can it be that Eddie misses Steve?
“Oh.” Is all he can say. Anything else gets caught under his tongue and forced back down his throat. Should he just be honest? Is that okay? If he shows Eddie just a few of his cards? “I- uh- I missed you too, man.”
He cringes at himself, but Eddie lifts his head and smiles, like he wasn’t expecting Steve to return the sentiment.
Eddie is so innocently unaware of the effect he has on others, so much so that Steve wants to grab his shoulders and shake him. Just to say look, look at how much people love you.
People, because that’s impersonal. Because that way Steve can make sure Eddie feels loved without revealing anything about himself. Without losing control.
Robin arrives to join in on the morning shift. She gives Eddie a warm greeting, and then immediately starts chattering about Vickie. It’s sweet, how Eddie listens, expressive in all the right moments. Steve verbally chimes in his opinion when he feels like it, but mostly he just watches.
If he could, he would put Eddie’s mannerisms down in a book. Just so he never forgets them. Just so other people can read it and feel that weird pinch of excitement Steve gets whenever Eddie’s eyes flit to his.
Robin finally takes a breath. “I’m gonna go see if Keith’s office is unlocked so I can make a pot of joe. You guys want some?”
Coffee might wake him up. “Yes, please.”
Eddie nods his own confirmation and then slides up to the counter, leaning forward so that his clasped knuckles brush against Steve’s. “You look tired.” His voice is too soft, too intimate.
“Gee, thanks, man.” Steve pulls away. He pretends it’s because he’s offended, but really it’s because being this close to Eddie kind of makes him dizzy.
Eddie grins. Leans forward again even though Steve is now standing up straight. “You should call me on the walkie. If you can’t sleep, I mean.”
Part of Steve thinks he’s never met a boy so openly sweet. So gentle despite his harsh appearance. It shakes him up inside, makes him question things, like his own reactions and how harsh they seem when compared to the way Eddie speaks. “I don’t want to bother you. You hardly get enough sleep as it is.”
“As if you could ever bother me,” Eddie begins to browse the candy, placed strategically next to the register so one can make a last minute purchase. He grabs a Mars bar and places it on the counter.
Robin comes out with three mugs of steaming black coffee balanced in her hands. “Drink up, boys. What should we put on today? I’m thinking something with terrible reviews.”
Eddie agrees to the idea and suggests a few titles. Steve rings up the chocolate bar and pays for it out of pocket while Eddie is distracted.
And when Eddie realizes, he blushes. Fully. Patches of red blossom across his neck and up his cheeks, leaving splotchy remains that give away his feelings all too well.
Steve has to look away before he gets caught staring. He doesn’t know when he got into the habit of staring at pretty boys, but he really should stop.
“I’m inviting some people to my house to swim,” Robin says, cutting through the odd tension in the room. “This weekend, if you wanna come, Eddie. Dustin is coming home from camp and all the kids are coming over. I think I can get Nance and Jonathan to come, too. I’m gonna invite Vickie, but that is another–”
“Robin,” Steve cuts her nervous rant off with a friendly smile. “She’s gonna come, okay? And we’ll be there to make sure everything goes alright.”
“Yeah!” Eddie nudges her arm with his fist, “We can be your wingmen. She likes music, right?”
Steve snorts. “Not our kind of music, Eddie.”
“Our kind, Stevie?” Eddie smiles triumphantly. Like maybe he won Steve over the other night on the roof with those god awful guitars.
(And he did, but Steve doesn’t want to tell him that. Eddie doesn’t need to know that he bought a specific cassette that very next day.)
“You know what I mean,” he manages. “Modern music. Vickie likes orchestra music.”
“Classical, Dingus,” Robin growls. “You both are forbidden from talking to her anyways. Nancy is going to help me. You two are going to keep the little rodents away.”
“Babysitting duty?” Steve begins to think he’ll never escape his fate of being the guy who hangs out with middle schoolers. Well, high schoolers now.
“Don’t worry, Stevie. I’ll keep you company.” Eddie winks at him.
(And Steve can feel the heat creep onto his cheeks. God, he really needs to get a hold of himself.)