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Dustin would be the first to admit that he’s not the most…observant when it comes to other people. Well, okay, maybe the second.
But even that doesn’t stop him from noticing something different between Steve and Eddie. Something more than just them being friends; which is a shock in and of itself. All things considered.
It started with the clothes. Steve wore Eddie’s vest and, sure, he had a legitimate reason to at first so nobody blinked an eye. But Dustin is fairly certain that he doesn’t own a Metallica tee, which is what he turned up to drive Dustin to the arcade in, a few weeks after things returned to normal.
He’s also pretty sure he recognises the belt on Steve’s jeans the following week. It’s hardly difficult to mistake Eddie’s belt, what with the handcuffs.
He keeps his mouth shut, though, because it looks like his two favourite role models are finally actually getting along – and not just for saving the world purposes. Dustin doesn’t want to bring their newfound friendship up and spook them.
Even when Eddie starts calling Steve ridiculous things like, ‘Sweetheart’, ‘Dear’ and, worst of all, ‘Beautiful’ Dustin keeps his thoughts to himself. Mostly because the way that Eddie says them is almost teasing, a shit-eating grin on his face as he leers at Steve who, in return, ends up blushing uncharacteristically and shoving Eddie away. He figures it’s just something that Eddie does. He has always been a little weird, after all. And clearly it has an effect on Steve, which is all the more reason for Eddie to keep annoying him.
It’s just what friends do. Right?
That’s what Dustin managed to convince himself. Instead of overthinking their strange friendship too much, Dustin decided to simply relish in the fact that they were friends. It has its bonuses, after all, like being able to hang out with the both of them at the same time. There’s a lot less worrying about spreading his time between two people when said people are basically attached at the hip.
None of that matters now, though.
Because no amount of reasoning or blatant denial (call it whatever you want) explains this.
Dustin woke up early, but that’s hardly anything out of the ordinary. He usually is one of the first to rise at sleepovers. Especially considering they’re at Steve’s house this time – under the pretence that Steve is being a considerate person and offering Joyce a break from hosting, even though Dustin is well aware that, actually, Steve gets pretty lonely in this big house. Steve would never admit to that, so Dustin never voices his suspicions aloud.
He knows Steve isn’t much of a morning person but, whenever they stay at his, he tends to wake up early. He calls it his ‘parental instincts’ and Dustin rolls his eyes at him.
So Dustin rolls out from under the mound of blankets he’d somehow ended up swaddled in, with every intention to head into the kitchen and find some cereal. Hopefully Steve remembered to buy fresh milk.
Except, as he reaches the kitchen doorway, he spies a familiar head of brown curls dancing around the room. He comes to a stop, making sure he’s out of sight before peering back into the kitchen.
Eddie is busying himself with a bowl of what looks suspiciously like his infamous chocolate pancake batter, a pot of coffee brewing on the other side of the counter. It’s not that much of a surprise to find him here; he’d been there last night, complaining about the movies they chose to watch and stealing most of the popcorn, so it’s understandable that he crashed here. What is a surprise is the shirt that he’s wearing, a yellow and white striped shirt that, if he were to turn around, would no doubt have a ketchup stain on the front from when Dustin accidentally aimed it at Steve and not his fries.
Not to mention the way that Eddie’s moving around the kitchen like it’s his own; skidding across the tiles with socked feet, grabbing ingredients out of cupboards Dustin hadn’t even ventured into (and he’s been here plenty of times).
His hair is tied up out of his face, save for a loose curl that hangs over his eyes, and he’s humming softly under his breath to a song in his head.
In the middle of the room, sat at the island counter, is Steve. Looking half-asleep, his hair unusually lacking its normal layer of gel and spray or whatever the hell he puts in it to get it to stay so perfectly styled. He’s watching Eddie, nursing a cup of coffee close to his chest, and there’s this strange expression on his face.
One that Dustin only recognises from the time he dated Nancy, soft and fond and disgustingly enamoured.
Steve chooses that very moment to speak up and Dustin jolts, worried for a second there that Steve had spotted him. But, he soon realises, Steve’s eyes still haven’t strayed from Eddie. “You should tie your hair up more often.” he says in a gravelly voice, lips quirking up into a half-smirk.
Eddie swivels, spatula in hand that he points Steve’s way, and he lets out a light-hearted laugh that sounds foreign coming from him. “And why is that, Stevie?”
Steve shrugs, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “You look good. Do I need a reason?”
Eddie’s responding smile is honest to God blinding. “I’m inclined to call that a reason,” he says, turning back to the pan so he can pour in another spoonful of batter. “How do you like your pancakes?”
“Cooked, preferably. How else do you eat pancakes?” Steve quips and Eddie scoffs, flipping his current pancake. The smell is intoxicating, and Dustin hasn’t had Eddie’s pancakes in what feels like forever. He’s a surprisingly good cook. His stomach grumbles.
“Oh, shut up and drink your damn coffee.” Eddie mutters, but it’s said with warmth. “You’re grumpy in the mornings.” And, okay, if Dustin had any doubts about this not being the first time Eddie’s spent the night at Steve’s there’re surely eradicated by now.
Eddie shifts the pancake to a nearby plate, dropping the spatula to the counter, before moving back towards the fridge. He doesn’t make it very far; sliding past Steve only for Steve to reach out and wrap his fingers around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie doesn’t even resist, not even when Steve tugs and sends him spiralling towards him.
Dustin watches with wide eyes as Eddie settles seamlessly between Steve’s thighs, an almost vulnerable sort of smile etched across his face as Steve reaches up to cup his jaw. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed momentarily.
Steve’s whisper of, “Come here,” is barely audible, but it’s the only warning Dustin gets before Eddie is swaying forward, Steve meeting him in the middle as he pulls him into a lingering kiss.
Dustin blinks.
It’s barely more than a press of lips, one (or maybe both) of them chuckling into the kiss, but even so Dustin feels as if he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t be seeing.
Not yet, at least.
Because he doesn’t care what other people in this town might say he should think, he isn’t disgusted by this. Well, actually, that’s a lie. It’s still early in the morning and Dustin really, really didn’t plan on witnessing his two close friends swap saliva. The fact that they’re both guys isn’t the issue here, though. Dustin honestly couldn’t care less. After fighting literal monsters, after the things that he’s seen, two guys kissing is hardly the worst thing in the world.
Besides, they clearly make each other happy, he notes as he watches how Eddie rests his forehead on Steve’s, mumbling something inaudible to him that has Steve smiling wide and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him even closer. The two of them being together (dating?) explains so much, Dustin realises, and he almost laughs before remembering where he is and clamping a hand over his mouth.
They’ll tell him when they’re ready, he assumes. Or, at least, he hopes they will. He hopes that they can trust him with this.
He’ll have to work on making sure they know he’s one-hundred percent supportive. Without being too obvious, of course.
But, for now, Dustin figures he should leave them to it.
He backtracks, walking as quietly as he possibly can back to the living room and creeping between his still sleeping friends until he can drop back down into his makeshift bed. He throws a stray blanket over himself, burying under it, his mind swimming with this new information as he lies awake and waits for the smell of food to wake the others up.
When they eventually begin to stir, Dustin pretends to have only just woken up, too. And if he keeps sending Steve and Eddie random smiles over breakfast that just end up confusing the both of them, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.