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If you would have told Eddie a few months ago, that one day he’d be sitting on the curb outside of Steve Harrington’s house, worrying about the man himself, he would have laughed his ass off. Because a few months ago he thought Steve Harrington didn’t know he existed. Granted he had never tried to get Steve’s attention before the whole “Vecna mess”, for fear of being rejected and ridiculed like always.
But now here he is. Months after a superhuman telekinetic serial-killer tried to kill everyone and in the process almost used Eddie as a patsy for murder, he finds himself best friends with Steve. They had spent time together on Steve’s breaks at the Family Video, and at Eddie’s place, Steve, Robin and him all smoking together. Sometimes Robin would even convince Nancy to come. Mike, Lucas and Dustin all introduced him to Will who is a spitting reminder of Eddie as a young teen, just a bit nerdier and with a bowl cut.
Of course he also still runs Hellfire and welcomed Will in as a new member and backup dungeon master when Eddie is off doing “adult things”, to which the kids groan and start throwing random items at him, accusing him of whatever vulgar ideas their minds can come up with. Eddie recalls the time they demanded to know if he and Steve “were off secretly sucking face” together and he went completely pale and had to tell them that he was actually going to help his uncle fix up his car. They had never brought up the idea since then and Eddie is thankful for that. He knows that it was only in light-hearted spirit but…
I swear sometimes I think those kids are observant to a fault. Eddie sighed.
The point is, he’s closer with everyone now than they were before or during the whole ordeal. He supposes that’s what a fuckton of trauma tends to do to a group of people. You feel closer to each other than most others.
How could Eddie not take a liking to Steve anyways, what with Dustin adoring the man, spitting out endless praise about him to Eddie after all the campaigns, and Steve always checking up on him while they were in the upside down, and protecting all of them, and calling Eddie a hero after he got bit by the demo-bats, visiting him the hospital everyday, greeting him the same big brown doe eyes and furrowed worrying brow…
Eddie shook his head quickly, as if he could physically banish the lingering thoughts. Instead he chose to shift his focus back onto sliding his skateboard absentmindedly under his foot. Which brings us to the question of, why is he sitting on the curb of the Harrington household? Eddie was so caught up in the image of Steve's worried brows, while he sports his own impression of the look right now. He insists to himself that he’s only here because he cares. He’s concerned about his best friend, that’s all. Anyone would be, if said best friend hadn’t been out of their house or called anyone for four days now.
Robin and Nancy had also called Eddie yesterday expressing the same worry, that’s when the fear that had been growing at the pit of Eddie’s stomach really started bubbling up and into his chest. He tried to stay calm and just call and check on Steve, instead of just rushing over there on his beat up board, but after a few repeated and unanswered calls, it was feeling hard to breathe. Eddie couldn’t take anymore waiting. So now he’s on the curb, stalling. Trying to convince himself to have the courage and just go check on Steve.
Eddie reasoned with himself, even if they were over-reacting and he was completely fine, at least then they would know and they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Albeit, if he is fine it’ll be a little embarrassing, but what the hell. He decided he would stop being a coward and just do it. Pushing himself up off the curb, he kicked up his board and grabbed it.
When he got up to the porch, he thought it’d probably be best if he left the board outside, with the Harrington’s home being so pristine and clean. He leaned the board up against the siding of the house, making sure it would scrap or fall over. He rapped lightly on the outside of the door.
“Steve! Open up, it's me Eddie!”
No answer. He huffed, stepping backwards off the porch to look at the windows. There was a window open slightly, curtains flowing with the light breeze that rushed by. Eddie could vaguely see the light of a lamp reflected on the wall of the room behind the window.
Fucking asshole.
This time Eddie knocked harder on the door, his annoyance seeping into the action. He was trying to be a good friend, he was worried! Why is Steve just ignoring him? He’s obviously home! He has to be, because he knows Steve’s family members were too polite to ignore visitors.
“Steve, I know you’re in there, don’t act like you aren't asshole! Come open the fucking door!” He yelled with building impatience.
He waited about thirty seconds longer before he reluctantly tried the doorknob. He didn’t think it would actually work because, who the fuck leaves their front door open when their home alone, but alas the door spung open with the force of his own frustration.
It may have been a bit too aggressive, he thought to himself. But what he surveyed around him now shocked him even more than the ease of the door. In this moment, he was forced to take back everything he said about “the Harrington home being pristine and clean”. Right now it looked like a hurricane blew through the house. In fact, it looked as if a hurricane AND a demogorgon had trashed the place.
The severity of the situation finally dawned on Eddie. Steve was seemingly isolating himself, wasn’t answering calls, didn’t come down to open the door for Eddie, wasn’t driving around and hanging out with the kids. But that wasn’t what cemented the anxiety for Eddie, it's the fact his house was a mess. Steve hates disorder. He hates messes. He keeps his house in clean and pristine order because he loves it that way. Steve does everything. Cooking, cleaning, caring. He cares about every little act of service. Eddie knows this and he knows that his house wouldn’t look like this if he was anywhere near okay.
Eddie carefully crept up the stairs, opting that being quiet - and not yelling like he previously had been - was probably a better idea. He felt like such a prick now. His mind only offered the worst explanations as to why Steve’s like this. He hadn’t even reached the door at the end of the hall yet, which he guessed was to Steve’s room as it was the only room cracked with any light coming out of it.
He pushed the door open slowly, peeking slightly around it. He shifted his gaze from the lamp and the cluttered nightstand, to the double sized bed where Steve was curled up under the comforter sound asleep. Eddie slid through the opening of the doorway and softly kneeled on the ground beside the bed. He listened intently, holding his breath, waiting. Until finally Steve lightly snored. It was so quiet Eddie figured no one would be able to tell unless they were as close as he was.
He hated doing this, but he needed to know what was up with Steve. And to also alert him to the fact that he was here and not get accused of breaking and entering. He’d had enough run-ins with the law for his liking. He brushed one of Steve’s little coifs behind his ear and shook his shoulder lightly.
“Harrington, hey. Come on, wake up. Wake up, Stevie. Steeeeeev-”
He whispered softly. After a final soft shake to his shoulder, Steve’s face scrunched up the slightest bit as he groaned. He batted softly at Eddie’s wrist and if Eddie wasn’t already preoccupied with nervously trying to figure out what was wrong, he’d think it was adorable. He ignored Steve’s attempt at shooing him away and shook him again with a bit more force.
“Hngh- whaaaaaat? What do you want?” Steve finally groaned out.
There they are. Those big, beautiful, brown eyes of his. They squinted up at Eddie, trying to make out his face. Steve was visibly annoyed and Eddie pushed down the urge to cup his cheek and run his thumb over Steve’s sharp cheekbones.
“Heyyyy! Hi sleepyhead.” Eddie smiled softly at him. “I really didn’t wanna wake you but, can we talk?”
Steve didn’t move. Just stared at Eddie, seeming lost and confused. A little angry too. His aggravated huff gave Eddie his answer, but he replied nonetheless.
“No, I’m tired. Leave me alone. Go home. It’s better if you don’t worry about me.”
Eddie stood there, frozen. This was a side of Steve he never saw. The statement made Eddie’s stomach flip in discomfort. It also stung him a little. He couldn’t quite place why, but it made him decide he wasn’t going to be leaving tonight. There was a period of silence between the two of them. Eddie just stared at Steve’s back, unmoving like a rock. He restlessly twisted one of his rings around his finger, playing with it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the words he wanted to say. Finally his brain supplied him with an adequate enough sentence. He took a steadying breath.
“Alright. You obviously wanna be alone right now, but I don’t wanna leave you alone until I know what’s wrong. So I’m gonna stay the night, and whenever you’re ready to talk, come get me or call me up okay?” Eddie sighed. “I wanna help you feel better, Steve. So… I’ll be downstairs cleaning up a bit if you need me.”
His throat was tight. It was like he was running on autopilot now. He was only thinking about Steve. Eddie walked back down the stairs and decided that the living room wouldn’t take very long to clean, as there were only a few piles of clothing and some trash lying about. He searched around downstairs for Steve’s laundry basket. When he wandered about almost the entire length of the house, he finally found the laundry room. Thankfully, an empty laundry basket was sitting on top of the washer. He snatched it up and shuffled back to the living room, picking up each article of clothing and tossing it in the basket.
Next, he went to the kitchen to grab an extra trash bag, but instead was stopped in his tracks by the sink. He had only been to Steve’s place a few times, to watch a movie or two. But every time he followed Steve to scour around for some snacks, the kitchen was always empty and like hospital level sanitized. Sometimes eerily empty. The space is just too fucking quiet sometimes. So Eddie would always fill the silence, talking to Steve about the movie they were watching or telling him about some DND mechanic or a new campaign he was writing. But he would make Steve swear not to tell Dustin or the others.
Steve would chuckle and say something like, “Eds, I have no clue what any of what you just said means.”
Eddie would stare him dead in the eyes with an intensity to burn marks into someone's skin. “I’m dead serious Harrington. You ruin the campaign, I ruin you. And not in the fun way.” Eddie held out his pinky. It may have been childish, but he’s been doing it his entire life. Steve looked at his outstretched pinky quizzically.
“What the fuck are you doing Eds?”
Eddie shook his pinky for emphasis. “Well… pinky swear it!”
Steve lets out a scoff that turns into a laugh. Eddie just stares at him. “Eddie, come on. Are you serious? Are we five years old?” Steve asks, his tone dripping with incredulity. His playful smile fades, “Oh. You’re serious.” Eddie nods wordlessly. Steve still doesn’t move.
“Get on with it, your highness!” Eddie demands.
Steve sighs and finally locks pinkies with him, “Fine. I swear.” Eddie giggles, pumping his other fist into the air.
“Thank you, see it wasn’t that hard!” He grins and then lights up as another idea pops into his head. He always loved a chance to tease Steve and it seemed in the heat of the moment Steve hadn’t registered what he said earlier. “Still not gonna ruin you in the fun way though, you gotta earn that.” Eddie whispered as he walked past him. He spun around, walking backwards just long enough to see Steve’s face beet red and watch him try to sputter a retort back. Steve, being the faster, more athletic of the pair, made a mad dash to start chasing after him. “ehehehe- OH SHI-”
Eddie chuckled, pulling himself and back out into the problem in front of him. The point was, the kitchen looked even worse than the rest of the house. Plates and cups piled up in the sink, smells of rotten food and souring liquid, pans and pots and baking sheets caked with the debris of various foods. Eddie’s face dropped, he almost felt remorseful “Oh Stevie… what the hell happened?” He onced-over the kitchen and told himself he’d come back to it after the trash. He searched the lower cabinets until he spotted the box of plastic bags and pulled one out.
He unfolded it as he walked back to the living room, he threw away pizza boxes and empty bags of junk food, even dumped out a tray of cigarette butts and ashes. He knew Steve didn’t smoke much. He had told Eddie he gave it up and went clean after a particularly and memorably bad Sophomore year. Eddie didn’t press him about it, and he only ever knew Steve to smoke blunts with the group or him every so often.
So that’s one thing Steve does when he’s like this. Eddie was marking things down to pay attention to in case this ever happens again. So he can help the stubborn bastard next time. Don’t get him wrong, he’s had his fair share of moments when he feels like he’s drowning all the time, or the world is just fuzzy and dark all the time. His dad made his life living hell most of the time and his mom, well it’s not her fault she got sick. His uncle was all he had. But getting through his Dad’s constant antics and his mom’s funeral when he was only in elementary school. It didn’t help that he was… well. The way he is. It was hard. It is hard. He’s dealt with depression his entire life.
So yeah, he’d had his fair share of experience. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like. After he picked up the last of the trash, which was some empty beer bottles and some empty 7-11 Slurpee cups, he tied off the bag and hauled it outside to the bin at the end of the driveway. Walking back up to the house, he noticed that the lamp was turned off in Steve’s room. He didn’t wanna go bother him again, he wanted to give him time. Let him decide. But, he couldn’t help the fact that he wished Steve would come down and talk to him. Walking back through the front door, closing it and locking it behind him, he started off towards the kitchen.
He took a deep breath in and squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, Eddie. You can do this. It’s just cleaning. It’s just trash. It’s easy! Everyone does it!”
Now Eddie hated admitting this to people because it made him feel pathetic, but Eddie “the freak” Munson despises doing dishes. Absolutely curses it. He refuses to do them. So much so, that his uncle has to do their dishes every time because, if he doesn't, their shared kitchen ends up looking and smelling like Steve’s does now.
He’s also inexplicably dramatic about washing them as well. He acts like he’s about to throw up everytime he touches a piece of wet or soggy food or grime. Any time a dish or cup is slimy or greasy in any way it looks as if he’s physically ill. In both those situations, there are times when Eddie feels he might genuinely be sick. Smells are even worse for him though.
Eddie hates seeing Steve’s kitchen like this because if Steve was currently in his normal mental state, he would be utterly mortified that Eddie is even here right now. But, Eddie can’t blame him for feeling like this. Of course he can’t. Steve’s got baggage. They both do. At least they can be in it together.
Because of his current conflict of wanting to help Steve, but having to face the one job he hates down to his core, he grimaces. Just remember it’s for Steve. It’s all for Steve. You’re not doing it for anyone but him, so it’s okay. You’re being a good friend. Maybe this will help him feel better, more motivated. Just think about that, Eddie.
He talks himself into it. He takes a deep breath in through his mouth, turns on the small radio in Steve’s kitchen, and switches it to the only station in town that plays his favorite Metal bands. He makes sure it's only softly playing, so as to not wake Steve up. He turns on the water slowly and starts quietly moving dishes out of the sink to get started.
His face scrunches up and he almost, almost, gags the moment a putrid smell from one of the bowls hits his nose. He toughs it out and continues to pour dish soup onto the scrubber in his hand. He opens the dishwasher and after lightly soaping and rinsing each dish or fork or spoon, he sets into the dishwasher. Playing Metal while he does this, makes it only slightly more bearable. But at least it's not unbearable now. Some of his staple Metallic or Black Sabbath songs, along with others he knows but can’t place right now, float out of the speakers and supply him the motivation to get through all the piles of dishware on the counter. He’s tackled a good portion of them, but grimaces again as sweat drips down his chest and onto his stomach.
“Fuuuuuck. If I’d have known I’d be doing this I wouldn’t have binded today…” He groans. Then again, he almost never doesn’t wear the bandages unless he’s at the trailer. He’d get more shit than he already does walking around without them. Plus, Steve’s never seen him when he’s not binding.
He continues scrubbing the pot in front of him and chuckles. “Somebody call my Uncle Wayne, tell ‘em his nephew’s had an awakening! He’s actually doing the dishes! OH LORD SOMEONE CALL THE HAWKINS PARISH THIS BOY HAS BEEN SAVED! HE’S SEEN THE LIGHT OF GOD, HE’S FINALLY REPENTING!” Eddie shouts in a whispered tone melo-dramatically and raises the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock fainting motion.
Seriously though, he thinks if his uncle saw him right now, the man might secretly shed a tear. It’s a miracle that Eddie is getting through any of this. Then the miracle gets better. He hears the groovy strumming and raspy voice of Rod Stewart fill the kitchen. No one was around to see it, but his eyes lit up at the start of the song. Suddenly Eddie is bouncing around the kitchen like he does at his shows. Though he only dances quite like this when he’s alone. He doesn’t even remember that his hands are soaking wet, he runs them up and down his body, eyes closing, throwing his head back and spinning around the kitchen. He sings along quietly.
“~ Don’t you just know exactly what they’re thinking?~”
He jumps and then points at nothing across the kitchen, rolling his body smoothly.
“~ If you want my body and you think I’m sexy, come on, sugar, let me know ~”
Continuing to sing along and go with the flow of the music, he spins around again.
“~ If you really need me, just reach out and touch me, come on, honey, tell me so ~”
He bumps into the counter and giggles, a bit dizzy from spinning.
That’s when he hears a stifled snort from around the corner. Eddie halts his dancing immediately, spinning around and marching off to the dining room where he catches a shadow trying to dash away. Sprinting faster, he catches a wrist.
As expected, the face he looks up to is sheepishly trying to hold in another laugh. Eddie can’t help but smile infectiously though. Because at least Steve is smiling now. A total one-eighty from the man he visited early this afternoon.
“Hi.” Eddie sighs, slightly out of breath.
“Hey Eds.” Steve finally laughs.
Eddie is trying so hard not to look at him with as much adoration and affection as he feels well up inside him at this moment. Dear god, he could melt under Steve’s gaze right now. He stubbornly shakes the thought from his head and pushes the feeling down into his chest. This is about Steve right now. Steve’s the important one. Eddie needs to sit down with him and talk. It seems Steve has other ideas though.
“Hey, um. Your hands are all wet. You can let go now.” Steve chuckles.
Eddie yanks his hand away, “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, haha!”
Steve comes back down the stairs, walking past Eddie, and into the kitchen. Eddie follows suit and watches as Steve settles himself at one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the counter to Eddie. Eddie slinks back over to the sink, his eyes going wide. He realizes that he only has a few dishes left to wash, he’s cleared the entire counter before Steve woke up.
“So… you got some good moves, huh rockstar?” Steve teases.
Eddie looks up from the cup he’s scrubbing and shoots him a glare. “If you ever tell anyone about this I will shun you and act like I don't know you in public, Harrington.”
“Alright, alright! I was just poking fun, Munson jeez.” He mutters.
There’s a very long drag of silence between them, as Eddie continues to clean up the last pan and Steve traces invisible shapes on his island counter with his finger. Getting restless and antsy, Eddie clears his throat and figures he might as well start the conversation.
“So, um. You’re up. How’d you sleep? How are you feeling?” Eddie asks, trying to make sure Steve hears that he’s genuinely curious and wants to know.
“Hm. Well. This is the first time I’ve gotten out of bed all day. Better, I guess.” Steve shrugs.
Eddie chances a look at him, and decidedly keeps his gaze there. Now that he can really, really see Steve’s face… He can’t lie. He looks miserable. He has dark, deep circles under his eyes, which Eddie can guess are from little sleep, lots of crying, or both. Then he figures it was probably from both, because Steve’s eyes still boast a bit of puffiness, albeit no redness. Eddie so badly wants to wrap him up into the tightest warmest embrace and stroke his hair and whisper reassurances in his ear. But that’s a fantasy and he has to figure out what’s wrong first before he can ever even chance that happening.
“So, you haven’t eaten anything yet today?” Eddie waits for an answer, while drying his hands on a dish rag.
Steve stops tracing things on the counter. He avoids eye contact with Eddie until he figures bluffing doesn’t have a chance of working. “Nope.”
“Okay. What do you feel like?” Eddie asks casually.
Steve stares at him. Apparently he was expecting a berating session. Eddie figured that, but he would never do that. Sure, he’s definitely frustrated right now. But he knows himself that shaming or yelling at the person never does any good, and normally makes them wanna eat even less. Eddie tilts his head slightly, waiting again until Steve answers.
“Fuck if I know…” Steve pauses. “... just nothing big I guess. I already feel sick.” he mutters.
And by god, Eddie will take that. It’s better than nothing! “Good, even if it’s small, at least we can get something in your system.” Eddie smiles at him brightly and genuinley. Now, Eddie is not a sous chef by any means. But he’s learned and cooked stuff for himself from a young age and always survived. A lot of it tasted pretty damn good too. He silently reminds himself to thank Uncle Wayne for teaching him later. Eddie figures since it’s summer, he’ll do a favorite from his childhood. So they can both at least eat.
“Hey, Stevie? How does an egg salad sandwich sound?” He calls from the refrigerator.
There’s a beat of silent contemplation and then,
“... actually, that sounds really good E.”
Eddie could be imagining this, but Steve’s voice almost sounded like he perked right up. Eddie turns around and really, there's not much of a visible change in his physical manner. But, he catches Steve glancing up at him, every so often from where he ended up laying his head on his arms atop the counter. Eddie smirks silently, quietly humming to himself, as he gathers up ingredients.
Steve recognizes the tune. It’s one of his favorites and he’s shocked that Eddie - Metalhead, screamo-loving, head-banging, rock-loving - Eddie Munson is humming it. Steve follows Eddie’s voice, supplying the lyrics to himself silently.
“~ You’re just, just, just wasting time. Something happens and I’m head over heels ~”
Steve’s utterly stunned. Eddie’s voice is so smooth and pretty. In his defense, he knew Eddie was in a band, he just didn’t think he could sing too. Or, he guesses in this case, could hum in such a lovely, intoxicating tone. He keeps his gaze fixed on Eddie, eyes following him all over Steve’s own kitchen. He watches the way Eddie’s expression changes as he focuses on the task at hand. How he bites and chews on his lip, and furrows his brow when he’s reading things. Almost like he’s frustrated at the writing itself, but then claps his hands together when he decides what he’s doing. The way he taps his lower lip with his ringed index finger while he’s waiting or contemplating things. The way he always turns around to check what Steve’s doing.
Steve’s slowly coming to the realization he’s been staring and not saying anything this entire time. He can’t help it. Everything Eddie’s doing just feels so strangely domestic and… familiar at the same time? Comfortable. Steve feels comfortable. He’s actually starting to feel a bit more chipper and awake now that Eddie’s here. Then that’s when the loud and twisting guilt in the back of his mind starts poking around his brain again.
He shouldn’t be happy right now. He’s being selfish. Eddie cleaned his house for him and Steve can’t even say thank you? God, he’s so pathetic. Steve starts feeling confined again. Like he can’t breathe. He tries to silently suck in air while Eddie’s not looking, but fails epicly. His lungs feel as if they are filled with water and wrapped in tons of tight-wound rubber bands. He can’t seem to calm down. He tries closing his eyes, but just starts to feel like he’s back. Back to the lab, or back to the upside down, or back to Vecna’s empty house. He feels cold, like he’s suffocating. But suddenly he feels a hand against his cheek, pulling him back, grounding him.
Eddie had finished putting together the egg salad, slathering enough to cover the slice and fill the sandwiches. He adds a little extra to his own sandwich, along with some salt and pepper just like he’s always loved. He puts the sandwiches on separate plates, turning around to place the thinner one in front of Steve.
“Alright your highness, your royal delicacy is ser-” but as he looks up, he has to stop himself almost dropping the plates on instinct. Steve is shaking, his eyes tightly shut, hot tears streaking his face and they won’t stop. Eddie immediately pushes the plates away and rushes over to him. He places his hand on the side of Steve’s face, cupping his cheek gingerly.
“Oh god, Steve. What’s wrong? Hey, can you hear me? Steve? Come on, Stevie say something-” Eddie rambling frantically, when Steve finally looks up at him. Eddie strokes his cheek softly. “Hey, hi! You scared me for a minute there!” Eddie smiles at him sadly. Steve sucks in a breath, shuddering as he breathes out. Eddie thinks he can’t take dancing around this much longer.
“Steve, I know you really don’t wanna talk about what’s wrong, but I really think you need to. It’s really affecting you now! First it’s isolating for days and now it’s breaking down out of nowhere!” Great, now Eddie’s starting to tear up. “Please Stevie, you have so many people who care about you! You don’t have to do anything alone anymore! Robin, Nancy, the kids, and me! I’m your best friend Steve, you can tell me whatever’s going on. We all care, we all love you!” Eddie hiccups. He has to stop himself before he goes too far.
Steve stares at Eddie the entire time he talks, listening intently. He steadies himself, leaning his face against Eddie's soft, warm hand and nods. He finally nods. Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief.
Steve sucks in another breath and then starts.
“Okay well… you know a little bit about my past already from the kids but… God Eddie, there’s so much more that you don’t know about, and part of me is grateful you don’t cause you didn’t have to experience it, but then there’s the part of me that says I’m selfish if I try to impose any parts of the past that still affect me currently onto other people. I don’t wanna bring anyone into it.” Steve breathes out in what seems like one breath, and then pauses. “Especially not you, Eddie.”
Eddie tries to ignore how that very intimate, protective, statement from Steve gives him butterflies in his stomach and instead focuses on the issue at hand.
“Steve Harrington, you are an unbelievably sweet and generous man, but I can handle myself okay? You don’t have to be afraid of letting me in and telling me things, for fear of not being able to protect me or making me scared. It takes a lot to really freak me out Steve.” He thumbs the tears away from Steve’s face. “And, if it’s anything like the shit we all went through with Vecna, then I can handle hearing about your past. I’m not the one it happened to, I’m more worried about you, than I am about being scared.”
Steve chuckles slightly, “Always fearless, sometimes reckless Munson.”
“Yup, that’s me. Now will you please tell me what’s wrong?” Eddie takes Steve’s hand into his own. Steve nods once again. Then he recounts the moments he went through before he met Eddie. Working at the mall, meeting Robin there and bonding with her. Becoming friends and fighting against the Russians. Getting strapped down and drugged in the lab, saving Nancy and Will and all the kids from the Demo-dogs, always being by Dustin’s side, Nancy almost shooting him in the Byers’ house. All of it. Every single thing.
“So now… I deal with some PTSD. I get triggered sometimes, I have panic attacks like just now. I go back to those moments, those places. I have nightmares too. Really, really bad ones and sometimes I wake up from them and end up having a panic attack. I have a lot of guilt too. Probably because I survived while so many others didn’t.”
Eddie can understand that completely. He rubs gentle circles into Steve’s hand, listening to every word he says with full attention. “And I have episodes like this, where I spiral into bad depression. I isolate for a few days, I trash my house, which I know is nothing like me, trust me E, I know. You probably saw it while cleaning, but I drink, I smoke. It’s all cause every time this happens, I try to numb it.” Then Steve starts crying again, but this time it’s softer. Not sobbing.
“But I’m getting so tired of it Eddie!” He cries. “I’m so tired of trying to numb myself! I’m so tired of being alone, it’s so cold and quiet and dark in this house all the time, it just reminds me of it all! But I feel so selfish telling you or the others this or asking for help- I just-” he hiccups, “I can’t Eds- it’s so selfish, I’m so selfish!” Now it’s sobbing again. But he reaches out, leaning his entire body into Eddie, muffling his cries against Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie lets him calm down for a bit, rubbing circles against his back now. Stroking his hair softly. But he doesn’t let him stay there for too long before cupping his face with both hands, and bringing him back up so he can speak.
“Now listen here Steve Harrington and you better fucking listen good!” Eddie pauses laughing through his own light tears for a moment. “You! Are most certainly not selfish. Do you hear me?” He waits for a response, but Steve just shakes his head dismissively. “Do you hear me?” Eddie repeats with a bit more emphasis.
“Fine, fine! Okay I hear you!” He laughs, still shaking his head.
Eddie takes his face in his hands again. He keeps wiping the tears away from his face. Never stops. He can’t stand seeing those beautiful doe eyes filled to the brim with tears, matching his furrowed, pulled up brows. Eddie can’t stand seeing Steve in pain.
“Now, I've got that through your thick skull!” Eddie makes a knocking gesture against Steve's head which makes him laugh yet again. “Steve Harrington, you are not selfish. You are so insufferably kind and generous and giving. You care about everyone! You do so much for everyone else, let us do things for you in return! God fucking knows, there’s more than enough of us willing to!” Eddie chuckles grinning.
“And Steve…” Eddie breathes out bracing himself.
Steve's pretty eyes flick up to meet Eddies, “Yeah, Eddie?”
“I care.” Eddie holds eye contact with him.
“Yeah… I know you do. You’ve told me like 5 times now.” Steve lets out a small laugh, slightly rolling his eyes.
Well, he’s getting a little more back to everyday Steve. Telltale attitude. Eddie internally screams. He’s really just gonna have to come out and say it huh?
“No, you idiot.” Eddie inches a little closer, leans forward just a little bit. “I care about you more than you know. In fact, I may just love you, Steve Harrington.” Eddie breathes out the words like he hasn’t been able to breathe comfortably holding them in. Steve’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t seem off-put. Just surprised.
“Really?” Steve asks, grabbing Eddie’s hands. “You’re not fucking with me right? Because that would be really shitty, taking advantage of me at such a vulnerable time like this-” Steve rambles on and on.
Eddie slots his hand onto the back of Steve’s neck. Then he lifts his other hand between them, pinky extended. “I pinky promise that I’m not fucking with your feelings. I am so genuinely attracted to you and care about you so fucking much, sweetheart.”
Steve shakes his head, grin spreading ten-fold. “Alright. And I pinky promise that next time this happens, I will remember how many people love and care about me, and tell someone.” Remember that affection and adoration Eddie was trying to keep from selling him out earlier? Yeah, he doesn’t care about that much anymore. They both link pinkies and hold their hands like that for a minute.
Just as Eddie is about to pull away and stand up, Steve wraps an arm around his waist. “Hey, one more thing-” Steve leans in close. Eddie can feel his breath ghosting his lips. “I may just love you too, Eddie Munson.” He lingers there in the space between them for a minute, and then closes the gap. It’s tender and sweet. Steve’s lips are so soft against Eddie’s own, it’s better than he had ever even dreamt about. And he had dreamt about it a lot. What!? He can’t help it that Steve looked so fucking good in his denim jacket!
Their kiss breaks, but Eddie lays a few more pecks on Steve before finally pulling away. “Alright, I know you’re probably not all the way close to feeling better, so how about we eat these and go watch a movie? Anything you want.” Eddie suggests.
Steve hums, thinking about it. “Hmm… Alright, that sounds good, but I have one condition. You pick the movie, annnnnnnd we get to cuddle?” Steve raises an eyebrow, trying to give his most convincing face. Eddie giggles wildly.
“Fine doofus, you win! Ohhhh, but I am going to have so much fun showing you Rocky Horror!” Eddie lets out his best dramatic mock evil laugh, and that sends Steve almost tripping up the stairs as he follows him.
“Be careful, gorgeous! I may actually end up liking it!” Steve calls the short distance down the hallway. When he walks into his own bedroom, Eddie is already laying on the bed face down. Steve chuckles “What are you doing Eds?” Eddie peeks to the side slightly, until Steve uses almost all his body weight to lift the dead-weighting Eddie and roll him on his side.
Turns out Eddie might not be the only one who has a thing for nicknames, because his face is flushed and his cheeks are red after just the one. "Steve Harrington, you will most definitely be the cause of my death one day." He huffs, pulling his hair into a high ponytail. Steve stifles a giggle at the adorable glaring face Eddie is attempting to sport right now.
“Shut up. Just sit down and let me take care of you and dote on you, princess.” Eddie fires back, but it has less effect when he looks that adorable trying to order Steve around like he’s actually mad.
“Awww, but you already cleaned my house and did my dishes, isn’t that already doting?” Steve retorted. Eddie licked his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and biting on it.
“You know what, just be quiet and eat your sandwich! The movie is starting.” Eddie whacked him lightly on the shoulder with the back of his palm. Steve just laughed silently to himself.
Who ever thought that Eddie would start out being the nerdy latch-key kid from the wrong side of the tracks, to being in love with and now dating, Steve “the king” Harrington. The prettiest, sweetest, most caring, ex-popular, basketball player. Young Eddie definitely wouldn’t have guessed it, but here he is.
Adoring and taking care of Steve, just like Steve does for everyone else. He’s divine, magnificent, perfect. He’s perfect. Eddie didn’t know how he used to ever expect anything less from Steve. He supposes Steve’s changed him too, for the better. But he would never admit that to anyone. Well… maybe he’d admit it to Steve one day.