Work Text:
Eddie had a hard time sleeping after everything. After Chrissy, after being hunted by all of Hawkins, after being attacked by demobats. He barely slept at all during the week he was on the run, images of Chrissy’s twisted and broken body burned into his brain. The only time he had slept through the night since before spring break was the first night he spent in Steve’s guest room. He had been absolutely exhausted — his head hit the pillow and then he woke up twelve hours later. It felt as though he had only blinked, but he was more relaxed and rested than he could ever remember being before.
The feeling didn’t last long. The very next night, he woke up after only an hour, sitting bolt upright in the unfamiliar bed, the sheets tangled around his legs and arms, trapping him and suffocating him and keeping him locked in place. All he could see was Chrissy’s lifeless body falling onto the floor and snapping one last time. He wanted to run, to get away from her, to get himself to safety, but he was stuck in the stupid bed that wasn’t his and he couldn’t fucking move.
He finally freed his arms and twisted out of the bed, falling onto his knees on the floor. He managed to wrestle himself out of the sheets and scrambled off the floor to get to the bathroom connected to the guest bedroom. Thankfully the light was still on from earlier in the day when he had taken a much needed shower after a week in hiding. He grabbed onto the sink and leaned against it, staring at himself in the mirror. His hair was drenched, his sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead. He could see his chest rapidly rising and falling in time with his shallow breathing. His throat burned as though he had been screaming or crying, or both.
He gripped the sink tighter, his knuckles turning white. He refrained from shutting his eyes, because if he did, all he would be able to see would be Chrissy. He had seen enough death to last a lifetime in just a week, but Chrissy was the one to stay with him. Patrick floating above Lovers’ Lake had been just as horrible, but it had just been a reminder of Chrissy and the fact that Eddie ran away when she died. He hadn’t even tried to explain himself to anyone — it was pure luck that Dustin and the others had found him before Jason and the rest of town did.
His tight grip on the porcelain was beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He deserved it, didn’t he? He ran away. He left Chrissy all alone in the trailer, he forced his uncle to have to find her and call the police about the dead teenager on his living room floor, to deal with the rumors that Eddie was a satanic worshipper who murdered teenagers for fun.
When the pain in his hands became almost unbearable, Eddie finally let go of the sink and looked away from his reflection. He reached for the tap with shaky hands and turned it as cold as it would go, bending down and splashing his face. The ice cold water put an abrupt stop to everything in his brain and all he could focus on was cold cold cold cold. He rubbed his face with the water for a few more seconds before he turned the tap off and looked up at the mirror again. He forced himself to make eye contact with his reflection and took a deep, shaky breath.
“I’m…” he began, mentally cursing at how unsteady his voice was even after the cold water had halted his brain’s little panic. “I’m Eddie Munson. I’m twenty years old. I live in Hawkins.” He placed his hands on the edge of the sink again to steady himself. “I’m at— I’m in the guest bathroom in Steve Harrington’s house.” He took another deep breath. “I’m Eddie Munson. I’m twenty years old…”
He repeated his mantra a few times until he slowly, slowly felt his heartbeat calm down and his breathing return to normal. His uncle had taught him the trick a few years earlier to calm his nerves before a Corroded Coffin performance. Eddie had used it several times since, when panic and anxiety got the better of him which was more often than he liked to admit to anyone, let alone his uncle. Wayne worried enough about him as it was with his senior year repeats and uncertainty about the future. He didn’t need to know that Eddie sometimes spent his weekends shut in his bedroom blasting his music just to feel something that wasn’t a never ending wave of numbness.
Finally, Eddie realized that the past few deep breaths hadn’t been a conscious effort and had instead happened naturally. He allowed himself a thin smile in the mirror before he let go of the sink and left the bathroom, laying back down on the bed. He let the still tangled up sheets remain on the floor. He didn’t feel like waking up and feel like he was suffocating again.
He managed a few more hours of sleep, one or two hours at a time with breaks for another panic attack or just to distract himself by any means necessary, be it reading something or writing lyrics in his notebook or even sneak out to Steve’s pool for half an hour so he could smoke. He fell asleep fairly easily and for a longer time after the latter, which he in his half high state realized wasn’t that great of a revelation since it meant that he might use up his stash if the nightmares continued. He had a feeling they would.
The next few weeks all followed the same pattern. Even when Eddie went back to school — something he only dared to do because Hopper had returned and had already begun clearing Eddie’s name — he still had nightmares every single night and was more or less running on empty in his classes. It was nothing short of a miracle that he finally managed to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s final.
A few nights before graduation, Eddie woke up convinced that he was being eaten alive by the goddamn demobats. He could feel them on his skin, clawing and biting at him. He kicked against the sheets as he twisted and turned — though why he had the sheets over him in the first place, he didn’t know. He had stopped using them after a few nights since he always got stuck in them during his nightmares which certainly didn’t help when he woke up and tried to get out of the bed. But now his fear quickly grew to a panic when he couldn’t free himself from the tangled mess fast enough. He felt his throat burning from a silent scream and he tried to sit up but nothing was working. He couldn’t move.
Suddenly, as if Eddie had simply blinked and missed it, Steve was sitting next to him on the bed and had his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, shaking him gently.
“Eddie! Wake up, man!”
Eddie frowned. He was already awake. He looked at Steve and at the sheets around his legs and at the demobats tearing at his flesh.
The bats. They weren’t physically there a second ago, so they couldn’t be real. Besides, he was nowhere near the trailer park or any of the other old gates. He was safe. There couldn’t be any bats in Steve’s house.
And the sheets tangled around him. He had no memory of pulling the covers over him, meaning that the sheets couldn’t be real either.
“Wake up, man!” Steve repeated, and Eddie screwed his eyes shut before opening them again.
This time, the room was brighter, lit by the lamp on the bedside table. Eddie closed his mouth, realizing that he had been screaming the entire time. Not a silent scream like he had thought. He blinked once, suddenly feeling his entire body go limp as he stopped thrashing against the non-existent sheets tangled in his legs or bats eating away at him. The only thing he could feel other than the mattress and his pajamas against his body was a tight grip on his shoulders.
“Eddie!”
He turned his head up to look at the person sitting above him and came face to face with Steve, who visibly relaxed when he made eye contact with Eddie and felt the older boy stop moving.
“Oh, thank God,” he breathed, tightening his grip on Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him up to a sitting position. Eddie more or less fell into Steve’s arms, and he would have been embarrassed if Steve hadn’t immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him close. They were a tangled mess of limbs, Steve sitting on the edge of the bed with one foot on the floor and the other underneath him, and Eddie’s legs sprawled out next to Steve on the bed.
Eddie finally took a deep breath, realizing for the first time how out of it he was and how much his throat hurt. As the first gulp of fresh air filled his lungs, tears pricked at his eyes and he buried his face in Steve’s shoulder to hide them. It was a futile attempt, however, because he automatically put his arms around Steve and fisted his hands in his sleep shirt, holding onto him as sobs shook his own body. Steve just held him, not saying anything, letting Eddie cry into him.
And Eddie cried. He let everything out — the nightmares, the memories, Chrissy. He spoke through his sobs, telling Steve everything. Telling him how guilty he felt about Chrissy dying, how he wished he could have saved her or at least just done something. How she deserved better than being murdered by Vecna in a shitty trailer with only Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson for company.
Had it been anyone else or had they been closer in age, Eddie would be worried that the person he was telling all of this to would think he had feelings for Chrissy, but thankfully it was Steve. Steve, who had been the first person to broach the subject and had come out to Eddie the night after the fight with Vecna, and Eddie had followed suit. Steve knew that Eddie didn’t have any romantic interest in Chrissy, so Eddie told him about the middle school talent show and Corroded Coffin and Chrissy’s cheer routine, then about their drug deal in the woods and how they had immediately clicked again. Eddie had been looking forward to reconnecting with her, only to have her brutally ripped away from him.
There was also the fact that Eddie might have a teeny tiny super big crush on Steve Harrington. And he might have spoken to Robin about it. Often.
But Eddie’s crush didn’t matter at that moment, because he was too broken to even think about the fact that he was basically being held by the boy he had been obsessed with for almost two years. Steve was rubbing gentle circles into the small of Eddie’s back as he spoke, and he kept doing it even when Eddie finally stopped speaking after what must have been at least fifteen minutes.
Another five passed, Eddie still crying and breathing shakily, before Steve spoke again.
“Eddie, tell me five things you can see right now.”
Eddie lifted his head up from Steve’s shoulder, blinking tears out of his eyes that he was sure were bloodshot at that point. He looked at Steve, raising his eyebrows. “Tell you what?”
“Just do it,” Steve said. He gave Eddie a nudge with his shoulder, his voice gentle but firm. “Any five things, big or small.”
“Why the fuck—”
“Munson.”
“Alright, fine!” Eddie relented and rolled his eyes. “God, you’re bossy, Harrington.” He dropped his forehead back on Steve’s shoulder and turned his head to the side to glance around the room. “Uh, I can see the pillows?”
He felt Steve nod above him. “Good. And?”
“The lamp on the table,” Eddie continued. He readjusted his position so that his chin was resting on top of Steve’s shoulder and he could get a wider view of the room. “My guitar by the door. The dresser. And the ugly ass painting your folks decided they wanted to hang above it.”
He felt Steve chuckle more than he heard it. His chest shook ever so lightly and the air that he let out in the soft laugh brushed against Eddie’s ear. It caught Eddie off guard, and he felt himself flush. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had his face pretty much pressed into Steve’s hair, but at the same time he was also very thankful that it was so close that the other boy couldn’t see his reddening face.
“Yeah, I’ve never liked that one either,” Steve said softly. “Now, four things you can feel.”
“I can feel… the mattress,” Eddie began. He closed his eyes and moved his fingers a little to figure out what they were holding, then his eyes snapped back open and he almost withdrew his hands. “I can feel your shirt.”
Steve’s sleep shirt was soft and must have been very well used, because it was also thin with wear. Eddie glanced down at it, his position only allowing him a limited view of the back but he recognized the heathered gray fabric as the Hawkins High Phys Ed shirt. Eddie smiled against Steve and allowed himself a moment to close his eyes again and lean his head against the other boy’s.
“I can feel you,” he said, and as he said it, he felt Steve lean into the touch. “And I can feel my hair on my neck.”
“Very good,” Steve murmured. “Three things you can hear.”
Eddie frowned, opening his eyes but not turning to look at Steve because that would mean moving his head away and losing the warm contact. “How am I supposed to hear shit? It’s just you and me here—”
“Three things, Eddie.”
Eddie sighed and nudged Steve in the ribs with one of his hands that was still holding onto his shirt. The motion had Steve flinching and letting out a high pitched noise that made Eddie grin.
“I can hear whatever that was,” he said, which made Steve chuckle gently. “I can hear your laugh.” He strained his ears to try to listen for sounds outside of the window, but a low, steady thumping rhythm caught his attention instead. “A heartbeat.” He moved his hands down to the hem of Steve’s shirt and fiddled with it. “Yours or mine, I don’t know.”
Steve nodded against him. “Two things you can smell?”
“Weed,” Eddie said immediately, which made Steve laugh.
“Damn, you didn’t even hesitate.”
“I live here now, Stevie, shit’s gonna smell like weed after a while.”
“I didn’t say you were wrong,” Steve said. “Weed is definitely right, I can smell it too. But you need to mention one more thing.”
Eddie closed his eyes once more as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and upon doing so he suddenly realized why Steve was making him do this sensory countdown. His crying had stopped long ago and his breathing was back to normal again. The revelation made new tears sting at the back of his eyes, though rather than tears of panic and fear and guilt, they were out of utter fondness for the boy next to him.
He smiled as he took another deep breath, letting the smell of Steve wash over him. He smelled of soap and shampoo and cologne. The same cologne he had always worn, the one that Eddie had always connected to Steve Harrington ever since they shared a class and Eddie’s infatuation with him had first begun.
He suddenly realized he had been silent for several seconds and Steve was still waiting for an answer.
“You,” Eddie said, blinking his eyes open. “Your… everything. Cologne and shampoo and shit.”
Steve stayed silent for a few more seconds, nearly sending Eddie into a new panic in fear that he had overstepped some line. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize or backtrack, Steve spoke.
“That was like four things total, Eds,” he said, and any words on their way out of Eddie’s mouth died immediately and his eyes widened upon hearing the nickname. Well. That did things to him. He felt his stomach doing backflips and frontflips simultaneously and his face was definitely heating up now.
“Alright, last one. One thing you can taste,” Steve prompted, as if he hadn’t just made Eddie’s entire system screech to a halt. What a jerk. Didn’t even notice when he induced a gay panic.
“Toothpaste, I guess,” Eddie managed to get out. He tried to collect himself by focusing on his fingers and the feeling of Steve’s shirt against them. It actually helped.
“Well done,” Steve praised him, his hands finishing their calming circles against Eddie’s back. He removed them and Eddie immediately missed the contact, but he was quick to change his mind, because Steve gently lifted his head away from Eddie’s and instead brought his hands up to hold his face. Steve’s hands cradled the back of Eddie’s head, his fingers disappearing in the dark curls and his thumbs tracing along the top of his cheekbones.
Eddie closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, a sigh escaping him. He had no idea why Steve was doing this, but he wasn’t about to pass this opportunity up.
“Are you feeling better?” Steve asked in a near whisper.
Eddie nodded. “Much.” He opened his eyes a little, gazing at Steve with hooded eyes. “Where’d you learn that countdown thing?”
Steve smiled. “Robin. We’ve had some… eventful sleepovers where Starcourt comes back to one or both of us. It’s helped me more times than I can count.”
This made Eddie pause for a moment. Steve had never told him outright that he also had nightmares about all of the Upside Down shit that had happened in Hawkins over the past three years, but Eddie had read between the lines. Hearing him confirm it, though, was different. Steve always seemed so sure, so strong. He was always the person to help anyone else in their weird group of friends, kids or young adults alike — Eddie hadn’t realized that sometimes Steve might need help, too.
“Thank you,” he said, letting go of Steve’s shirt with one hand and placing it on top of Steve’s. “For helping me. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
Steve moved his hand so that his and Eddie’s fingers were intertwined, still holding Eddie’s face. “I care about you, Eddie.” His voice was so gentle and honest that Eddie swore he could explode. “I’d do anything for you.”
Eddie would have screamed into a pillow if he’d been alone in the room. “Damn, Harrington,” he said softly instead, “is this how you woo all your ladies?”
Steve let out a soft laugh. He pushed Eddie’s hair back with his hand that wasn’t holding Eddie’s as he shook his head. “Nah, man. Only the really special ones.”
Eddie ignored the implications of Steve’s words — because acknowledging them would mean a world of hurt worse than being attacked by demobats if he was wrong. Instead he just smiled and closed his eyes, leaning into Steve’s hand.
Steve’s hand that had pushed Eddie’s hair back was gently massaging Eddie’s scalp, and the movement was so soothing that Eddie must have fallen asleep for a few seconds, because he suddenly jerked awake as his head lolled forward. He kept his eyes closed as he lifted his head up, missing the feeling of Steve’s hand.
“Whoa there,” Steve said with a light laugh. “I think it’s best if you go back to sleep, Eds.”
Eddie nodded but didn’t move. Steve was still so close, and he was so very warm.
“Stay with me?”
The question was so quiet that Eddie barely heard it himself. He opened his eyes slightly, seeing Steve watching him with a gentle smile on his face.
“Of course,” he said, then proceeded to not-so-gracefully climb over Eddie to lay down on the other side of the bed. Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as Steve’s head hit the other pillow with a huff.
“Smooth,” he said with a tired grin as he twisted around to look at the other boy, who just shrugged.
“What can I say? I’m stealthy. Like a ninja.”
“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
“And you need to go to bed, Eddie Munson.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s arm and gently tugged it, pulling Eddie down to lie next to him. The way they had been positioned, Eddie’s back was turned toward Steve, and Steve was almost pressed against his back with how close he was. Before Eddie could start adjusting so he’d be on his back, he felt Steve drape his arm around his waist. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat for a moment, but he relaxed when he heard Steve let out a contented sigh.
“Is this okay?” Steve asked quietly, and dammit, if Eddie blew this chance he’d never forgive himself.
“Yeah,” he replied just as softly, placing his hand on top of Steve’s. “Hope you’re okay with the lack of covers. I always get caught in them. You know, with the…”
He felt Steve nod against his back. “Yeah, I get it. It’s totally fine, Eddie.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, allowing himself to relax against Steve. “Cool.”
Steve moved his hand a little, tangling their fingers together. Eddie smiled to himself as he listened to Steve’s steady breathing behind him, tracing aimless patterns into the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes felt heavier and heavier with every passing second, and soon they were closed, and he fell asleep feeling safe for the first time in a long time, knowing that Steve would be there when he woke up.