Archive of Our Own ^omega

The wind howled in the pitch black of the night, rain pelting on Steve's armour like a swarm of arrows. He had gotten drenched from the storm's tears, the usual freckled sky covered in silvery clouds, and the gale pushed Steve back as he pressed forward, the sunny glow of a tavern just beyond his reach. One harrowing step nearly tipped him over like an abandoned ship at sea, but he regained his balance as the swampy wood of the doors itched his fingertips. The doors swung open with the gust of air and slammed harshly on the walls, the sound echoing throughout the packed inn. Even the bard, who sat on a creaky barstool in the corner, paused his majestic song to stare at Steve's dripping form.

Eyes plastered on Steve as he wetly stepped to the bar area with Dustin Henderson hot on his heels. His usually curly hair stuck to the sides of Henderson's plump face, the leather purse by his side dripping fat droplets onto the wooden plank floor. With his fingertip tapping on the counter, Steve ushered the attention of a waitress, her dress lowcut to expose her cleavage. Dustin goggled at the sight, flustering the lady, but Steve rolled his eyes and produced a gold coin from the bag.

"Two rooms, please, for my Squire and I," Steve slid the coin towards the lady, who snatched it, and Steve threw her a wink for extra measures. However, from his tousled and ruined hair, he assumed the charm didn't work as the waitress walked away, stuffing the coin between her breasts. Steve exhaled a heavy sigh, carding his fingers through his locks as he pressed his back onto the counter, feeling the cloud's teardrops skate down his iron armour. "You must stop staring at every pair of breasts you see, Henderson."

"I'm so sorry, Sir LadiesMan," Dustin mocked, parroting Steve's actions and looking over the crowd of drunkards that had stopped their incessant stares at the two. Creatures of all kinds paraded the tavern, goblets of ale and mead in hand/claw/tentacle. "Wherever you go, a crowd of hot ladies form, and I will take advantage of that as much as possible."

Steve smacked the back of Dustin's head, an 'ow' slipping from his lips as he rubbed the spot feverishly. "Is that really how you see ladies? Get a grip, Henderson."

"Okay, sorry, jeez," Dustin murmured and crossed his arms over his tunic, the drenched fabric sticking to his skin.

The music had started again, the sweet pluckings of the lute serenading Steve's eardrums, and Steve watched the bard slyly. Their hair was loosely coiled, covering his broad shoulders, and his flat cap sat neatly on his head with a giant black feather protruding from it, tipping eerily to the side as his head bopped to the rhythm, encouraging lines of their adventures singing from his lips. A group of young children sat around him, enthralled by the bard's tales.

From the corner of his peripheral vision, Steve saw Dustin enchanted by his saccharine voice, and Steve nudged his elbow into Dustin's side. "Go join them," Steve nodded his chin towards the crowd, two children dancing merrily with trotting feet like horses. Dustin's lips stretched into a smile, and he dashed away, his damp curls bouncing with him.

Steve ordered a jug of ale, happily drinking the bitter yet fruitful drink. Dimples formed on the bard's cheeks when he enraptured a child with his clever lyrics, and his tunic hung loosely from his frame; baggy at the sleeves before pinching at his wrists, revealing the boney fingers that strum the strings of his instrument like a professional. His muddy boots came up to his knees, lighter than the murky trousers he wore, and the colour accentuated his pale skin. Steve drank from his chalice, poorly hiding the amused look on his face, and caught sight of the bard's russet eyes.

With a light tap, the waitress returned, holding a set of keys in her dainty hands. "Here you go, Sir LadiesMan," She joked, her voice soft like a fire on a winter's night, and she laughed before disappearing behind a swinging door. Steve held the icy metal in his hand, suppressing a groan as he chugged the last of his brewage, slamming it onto the counter and making his way to the joyful crowd. A few adults had joined the flock, clapping their hands as the poet sang of dragons and Demogorgons.

He watched the army of regulars, his feet tapping as the room erupted in cheers and dancing. The bard suddenly stood, his feet swaying as he danced along to his rhythm, and the children laughed as the musician pulled ridiculous faces, even pulling a chuckle from Steve's throat. Dustin was towards the front of the crowd next to a kid with a purple wizard's hat and a girl with short, roguish hair. His eyes sparkled with exhilaration, his smile wider than Steve had seen throughout their journey.

The curly-haired bard ruffled Dustin's sopping mane, and his eyes met Steve's again, a mischievous smile crossing his face. Steve felt a swarm of butterflies swarm his empty stomach, a radiant flush capturing his face unexpectantly, and he fumbled with the hilt of his sword. It brought a comforting rush over him, as it had hundreds of times before in battle, but he wasn't about to fight a herd of goblins or owlbears; he was nervous for another reason that made his stomach swoop.

Moments passed, and the music stopped, the bard grabbing his hat and theatrically dipping his chest to the ground, coins of silver and copper thrown at him in triumph. The muse collected the cash, swooping it into the leather sachet by his waist, and the crowd dispersed back to their tables, not leaving the tavern as the storm outside roared ferociously. Dustin skipped over to Steve, excitement radiating out of his pores, and Henderson rambled as Steve led him to their rooms.

"He was so cool, Steve! He sang about slaying a flock of demobats and defeating a bunch of trolls. Trolls, Steve!" Dustin squealed, running up the narrow steps two at a time, and he jumped electrified once they stopped in front of two doors.

"You act like I haven't killed a bunch of trolls," Steve murmured, jamming the metal key into the lock, and the door swung open, screaming on its hinges. The room was murky, illuminated only by the momentary flash of lightning, and it held a minute bed and a chest of drawers. Steve fished flint and steel from the cabinets, lighting the melted candle until an orange glow swallowed the room instead of the white spark from the sky.

Dustin bounced on the bed, rumpling the worn blankets and dusty sheets, a cloud of mist enveloping him for a moment. "Yeah, but you're different. You're not Eddie Munson," His eyes became glassy as if he were talking about a deity or a legend, and if Steve knew any different, he would believe he was.

"Who names their kid 'Eddie Munson'?" Steve commented, the name leaving sour jealousy on his tongue, but the flicker of the bard's smirk and honey eyes in the low glow of the inn fueled his veins with the nervous tension he had felt countless times before. Mostly around his father, although many people felt intimidated by his father's golden crown and deadpanned stare. But the bard was different.

"Who names a prince 'Steve Harrington'?" Dustin counteracted, piquing one of his eyebrows as Steve rolled his eyes.

"I told you not to call me that," He felt agitation crawl under his skin like a spider, his skin prickling with the stood-up hairs and the itchy sensation seizing him. In one swift action, Steve pushed off the drawers and leant on the doorway, keeping his cold gaze on Dustin in the streaky candlelight.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Steve's squire rolled his hand in the air, flopping down on his back with an exasperated sigh. He stared at the ceiling before lulling his head to Steve, a tiny smile forming on his round face. "Night, Steve."

"Goodnight, Henderson," He whispered, closing the door behind me, checking that Dustin had his room key as Steve turned around, his back leaning on the heavy door and making his armour tug uncomfortably at his stature.

The darkened hallway seemed to stretch for aeons around him, one side glowing with music and drunkard chats, whilst the other was in shadows that plagued Steve's mind. Couldn't they have at least left a candle outside? He recalled the countless nights he and Dustin had spent in dewy caves, escaping wild ambushes and attacks but with little to no scrapes on them - the other guys, not so much.

How could Eddie Munson get Dustin's attention in a matter of seconds when it took Steve months to gain his squire's trust? Was it his hair and courteous singing? Or maybe the smirk that left Steve's stomach in shambles?

Steve audibly groaned, a low hum of annoyance, as he buried his face in his scarred hands. The image of the bard with pale skin and sharp teeth consumed his every thought, even more so as he walked the short distance to his temporary residence and met the eyes that spilt fire on his face. They were vacating a bedroom, the soft candlelight drowning in the darkness of their hand as they looked up perplexed.

"Oh, hello there," Their expression quickly morphed into a boisterous grin, and Steve felt every fibre in his being stiffen. Their voice was baritone with an accent Steve couldn't place, and the light shimmered on sharp teeth. The bard wore his outfit from earlier, the only change being the lack of his feathered hat, and the inky coils were in a bun.

"Hello," Steve rasped, hushing his voice so he wouldn't disturb residents sleeping soundlessly in their beds. Although, with the rickety state of the building, he doubted another being would dare trust the rafters not to collapse on them.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Eddie asked, his tone teetering on teasing, and he leaned against the oak frame with the candle in his hand, hot wax spilling down the sides animatedly. Wisps of hair fell to frame his face, not long enough to join the rest wrapped, and Steve saw Eddie's sharp jaw and collarbone peaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I saw you watching me by the bar. From the look on your face, I would say you were pleasantly amused." He twisted some hair and hid the side of his face in it, making Steve's heart halt for a moment.

"Why bother asking then?" Steve leaned on the same wall as Eddie, his iron armour clanking against the lumber. Something about the man in front of him enticed his curiosity and flamed the fuel of ambition to reveal the man's secrets and desires in an odd way which Steve knew nothing about whatsoever. Eddie was an enigma, a nameless god, and Steve was an explorer searching the jungle of his being.

Eddie shrugged one shoulder, his eyes travelling to the space between them. "Not sure. Guess I just wanted to see if the Royals had any opinion on my theatrics." His eyes danced to Steve's and pinned him down like a blade. Steve's veins chilled with icicles, shocking his core, but he tried to keep the same dead stone mask he had worn seconds before.

"How did you--"

"You have a fancy accent, not like us, common folks." Eddie waggled a finger at Steve's chest, jabbing it against the metal of his chest plate, and Steve saw his sharp claw mark the iron slightly. Annoyance boiled in his insides - even after spending months perfecting his 'common knight' persona, someone as freakish as Eddie Munson saw right through the facade. If Steve's father and mother were there, they'd shake their heads disapprovingly. "Also, your bag is marked with the Royal symbol. Either that makes you a guard of the prince or the prince himself."

Steve exhaled an agitated breath through his nostrils, pushing off the timber wall, and tried to conceal his fidgeting hands that dug the sharp metal of the key into the palm of his hand. Eddie smiled casually, fluttering his long eyelashes as he spun around, careful with the lit candle in his hand, and dipped his torso to the floor when he faced Steve again.

"How did I do, your majesty? Did I crack the big case?" The latter's mouth cracked in a low chuckle from Steve's stunned silence, straightening his back and tucking a strand of hair behind a pointed ear. "Don't worry. I won't say anything. Won't want Darel to raise the price of the rooms now, do we?"

"Darel?" Steve's eyes stayed on Munson as he walked past him, turning around on the heel of his boot to shine his grin at Steve once more. It was like the sun - glowing and bright and always there, even if it hid behind unlit corners. His arms tucked behind his back, the candle casting Eddie's features in shadows, but Steve could still see his hair and toothy grin.

"She's the innkeeper and a petty one at that." Eddie kicked an invisible stone on the floor, watching it skid away before bridging the gap he had created between them. "If she knew a Royal was staying in her tavern, she would milk all of us dry of our coin."

"You stay here often?" Steve asked, tilting his head idly to the side, his damp fringe bleeding into his vision. He wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible, rid himself of his heavy armour, and fall asleep before leaving the dingy tavern and Eddie Munson behind with it. But the man was a vortex, sucking in your attention and thoughts.

Eddie clicked his tongue. "Got me there. This place is my home away from home, but that doesn't exist anymore." A lingering sadness stained his eyes, tainting the caramel shine of his irises before he snapped out of his trance and was back in reality. "I suppose you don't want to hear a peasant ramble on about that now, would you?"

"Not really, no." Steve raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes hooded as he searched the man's face, but all he could find was the unwavering charisma that followed Eddie around like a phantom.

The empty palm of Eddie's hand opened up as he shrugged, his lips curling downwards as he stepped backwards. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to it, Prince Steve."

He turned around, relief washing over him when the words struck out, and he spun around to look at the retreating figure. "How did you--"

"Thin walls," Eddie called back, not turning around to face Steve's direction, and rapped his knuckles on the harsh wood. "Night, Steve." He waved his hand, descended the staircase, and he was gone, leaving Steve in the shroud of darkness.

Golden rays of the waking sun poured in through the panes of Steve's window, basking the filthy room in a coral shine that made it seem half-decent despite the thick layers of dust and rotting smell, stinging Steve's nostrils. He sat in the rickety bed, stretching out his limber limbs with a low moan as pops in his bones echoed the salmon room. Steve saw no signs of the vile storm apart from condensation on the window and the shiver in his marrow despite the blankets that covered him. His armour had also gained a shine, replacing the mud that stained the metal most days.

Standing, Steve threw on a tunic and loose-fitting pants, a strange outfit he grew used to after venturing outside his castle walls. He quickly added the serrated dagger to his side, tucking it into his waistband to avoid suspicion. Even though Steve despised wearing the armour for another second, Steve had to be careful - they didn't know the village's characters, and it was better to be safe than sorry. He stepped out into the narrow hallway, the dark corners lit with sunshine and locked the door before pounding his fist on Dustin's door.

"Henderson," He yelled, unmasked by the thought of other people sleeping in their rooms and would likely not want to be disturbed. "Wake your ass up and join me for breakfast."

A stifled groan sounded from the door, then fabric shifting, enough of a sign for Steve to be happy as he made his way to the staircase. Each step screamed under his weight as he trekked down them, narrowly missing the low ceiling colliding with his face, and breathed the smell of cooked food and mead deep into his lungs. It reminded him of home, although his home was much colder and emptier than the warmth that radiated off the establishment. Steve would spend most of his days surrounded by uncaring servants, eating alone on the wide table as his parents were at other kingdoms, establishing allies and trades. 'Kingly business,' Steve's father would say, but Steve knew it was all bullshit.

As he reached the last step, a shrill screech sounded, and Steve jumped into hyperdrive, grabbed his dagger and rounded the corner, scanning the area for danger. Patrons eyed him suspiciously before returning to their beverages, unfazed by the feminine scream - Steve shot his eyes from each person before landing on brown curls.

In the corner was the presence of Eddie Munson, each arm wrapped around an overly-exposed woman. They were giggling, the sickly stench of alcohol permeating off them even Steve could smell from metres away, and Steve assumed the cry came from the redhead on Eddie's left, twirling her hair around one finger continuously. Eddie's eyes locked onto Steve's, a gleeful grin spreading on his face as he whispered in the blonde's ear, never letting his eyes stray from Steve's. Something wicked boiled in Steve's gut - maybe the thought that Eddie got more ladies than Steve did most days or that Eddie was relishing in Steve's twitching eye and frantic itch of his fingers on his dagger.

The blonde he recognised from last night - the one Dustin was goggling at prematurely - but the redhead waitress he hadn't noticed. They were both pretty, with full lips and rosy cheeks and curvy bodies, but Steve's attention was solely on the pale-skinned bard cushioned between breasts.

"Come join us, Steve!" Eddie called, momentarily unwrapping his arm from the girl's shoulders to cup his mouth before laying them back on the ladies, his tongue peeking through rows of teeth. Steve shook his head, turning away and finding a booth far from the putrid display - which wasn't far since the tavern was small and packed even through the early morning hours.

Soon after, Dustin descended the stairs and beelined for Steve, sitting across from him on the yeast-smelling sticky roundtable. They ordered breakfast and beer, guzzling it down whilst Eddie flirted with the two maidens, his eyes glued to Harrington like he was the most fanatic thing in the tavern, which was mostly true because of Steve's royal bloodline. Steve averted his gaze away from the bard, irritation settling on his ribcage.

After a waitress took away their empty goblets, Steve rushed up the stairs and slammed the door to his room. The tangerine glow had morphed into the light of a new day, but the blue sky and singing birds didn't cheer Steve's mood. He packed away his belongings, closing the drawers with a snap and tugging on the smoky silver armour with too much aggression. Dustin knocked on the door as Steve adjusted the longsword by his side, the harsh leather hanging from his waist.

"You finished being moody?" Dustin asked, his tone bored, and Steve slung the rucksack over his shoulder before facing Dustin. His hair was a frizzy halo around his face, a dagger similar to Steve's tucked into the cheap leather encircled around him, and his mud-covered boots beat the ground in a steady rhythm.

"I'm not being moody," Steve barged past the younger boy, locking the door behind him once Henderson rushed out, bags leant against the lumber wall precariously. He hoisted one up and tucked it on his shoulder, a small huff of air like Dustin's lungs had punched out. Steve picked up the other one, slinging it around his side as he drifted off to the staircase.

"You were giving Eddie the evils throughout breakfast," Dustin argued, lugging behind Steve as he clambered the stairs two at a time. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you were jealous."

Steve paused, snapped his neck and glared at Dustin, who raised his eyebrows knowingly. "I am not jealous of Eddie fucking Munson."

Dustin made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, following Steve as he passed the keys to an innkeeper - Darel, he presumed - and breathed the morning air once they vacated the pub. He could still smell yeast lingering in the breeze, but it filled his lungs joyfully. There was no more Eddie Munson, tales of troll-slaying or his gorgeous brown doe eyes and permanent smirk.

They ventured through the town, passing dingy cottages and as many bakeries as there were people. It seemed the tavern - which he discovered was called 'The Upside Down' - was the only tavern in the village, even with its broken rafters and annoying entertainers. The travellers were lucky to stumble upon the inn, for they would have marched in the town until the storm picked them up and squashed them like bugs.

A small marketplace stretched through the town - nicknacks and trinkets displayed by charismatic characters ushered Dustin in, dragging Steve through the stalls one at a time to gleefully point to every treasure the squire could find. It was cute, but it quickly became a chore to keep up Steve's hearty expression as the market seemed to stretch for aeons. They spotted townsfolk who had partied in the tavern the previous evening - namely the skinny boy with a wizards hat and the girl with short hair - as they went about their ordinary lives. Maybe one day, Steve could settle down like the people who surrounded him like the plague, but not until they completed their mission.

Eventually, they were back on their path, following a dirt trail towards an ominous forest which would lead them to their destination - a tower surrounded by demobats harbouring a princess in need of rescue. Of course, the only reason Steve wanted to save the princess was to prove to his father that a prince could be more than stuck-up and prim like they had raised Steve to be. Dustin joined Steve for another reason: to become a knight, which was ridiculous since Dustin was still young, but he hadn't the heart to turn down Dustin's puppy eyes and pout lips.

The trees loomed above them, daylight filtering in through the canopy of leaves, and dark shadows formed further in, writhing along the bark and snaking its body on the floor. They stood like royal guards, their backs straight and rooted to the ground, and Steve watched each one they passed with suspicion. Something pricked his skin and dug deep onto his muscle, a strange foretelling of events to come, and it wasn't until the stench of smoke did he unsheath his sword and ran towards the smell.

Deep in the confines of a cave were two barbarians, snickering and grouping an assortment of junk around a campfire. They looked human, with long cloaks that hid their features and leather armour bound to their chests. From where Steve hid in a bush, he could see knee-high boots strapped together by rope, and as his vision adjusted, he could see a familiar feather stuck on top of a hat. Steve groaned, wishing for the universe to stop bringing the two together.

He could hear the stifled struggle as Eddie hid in the shadows, the two captors buying him no mind as they picked through the stash of novelties. A silver crest wove onto the back of the cloaks - a stake stabbed through a dripping heart - and Steve saw a net and battleaxe perched on the sloped wall of the cave. Hunters, more specifically Vampire Hunters. But why would they hold Eddie captive?

Steve brushed off the thoughts as he pounced into action, swinging his sword into one of the hunter's shoulder blades and stunning the other. The hunter stood up, the one without Steve's longsword lodged in their shoulder, and rushed over to Steve, swinging his arm to collide with Steve's jaw, but he ducked out of the way and sliced the man's ankle tendon with his dagger, sending the barbarian crashing into the floor. They wailed in pain, and Steve grabbed the hilt of his sword and wrenched it free of the man's back. Blood slicked the silver, sliding freely to pool on the floor, but Steve wiped it and tucked it back into position.

The Vampire Hunter rolled on the floor, grabbing the oozing wound as if his touch would heal the sliced ankle, and his hood fell back to reveal a head of blonde hair. Steve crouched down to meet the man's blue eyes, and the man spat at Steve's face. He wiped it away with the flick of his wrist, resting his arm on his knee.

"Why do you have my friend captive?" Steve asked, tilting his head to the side as the man bared his teeth, sucking them in as pain thrummed sluggishly through his system.

"He's a fucking vampire," He said through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering shut as he adjusted his grip on the injury. The other hunter was moaning in the background, desperately clutching his shoulder in defeat, his hood never shifting to unmask the hooded figure. "He's a devil worshipper and drinks the blood of humans."

"And that gives you any right to kidnap the man and sell him off to your boss?" Steve tried to keep his voice calm, rage bubbling in his gut, and his knuckles were bleach-white, moon crests shaping his palm. The blonde man cackled, spit flying everywhere, and he turned in defeat to face the open flames.

"He's hurt hundreds of people, including my darling Chrissy." The man murmured, glaring at Eddie, who had wriggled his way to lean on a wall, and Steve could see the rope tying him up, digging into the pale skin until red blotches surrounded the ivory rope. "He would have paid for his crimes if you hadn't shown up."

"Thank goodness I did then." Steve sat up, his armour clanking heavily against each other, and strolled to Eddie, kneeling on the floor beside him. His eyes were wide, cast with fear, and a gag sat between the sharp canines of Eddie's mouth. Something in his gut told Steve that Eddie was harmless, that whatever had happened to Chrissy was not Eddie's fault, and Steve tried to demonstrate that to his shaken figure as he rested a hand on the man's thigh. "I've got you. You can trust me, okay?"

A few beats passed before Eddie tentatively shook his head, and Steve carefully cut the rope that bound Eddie's limbs together. Steve's fingers burned after he freed Eddie of his restraints, dusting off frayed pieces off him as Eddie created distance between them. His curly hair bounced on his shoulders, and Steve saw a dark stain coat the side of Eddie's shirt, stark against the white material, and his boots scuffed under the rocky floor. Two sharp points curled at his ears, and Steve wondered how he hadn't recognised the vampiric features before.

Steve shuffled back, watching Eddie's erratic chest move as his breathing slowed back to normal, colour returning to his face, and the frantic haze in his eyes subsided. Eddie's mouth twitched upwards, the corners revealing a set of fangs, but no joy remained in his grin, and his dimples didn't form. Standing up, Eddie dusted off his soiled clothes and stared at Steve, who also stood.

"My darling prince charming came to rescue me. Should I be swooning by your feet by now or not?" Eddie teased, but his voice wasn't as chipper as it had been hours beforehand. Steve rolled his eyes in response, collecting the discarded items and pooling them in his arms as he stepped over the unconscious bodies of the assailants. "No comeback? Damn, I must have flustered you, hm?"

"Not in the slightest," Steve replied, turning his head and flinching backwards on his ass. Eddie had snuck up on Steve and leaned in close to his face, his hair flowing down over his shoulders and dangling idly in the air. Eddie laughed wildly at Steve's shocked expression, clearing his throat and shovelling the items towards Eddie's hunched form, who was holding his middle, poorly containing his laughter. "Don't scare people like that, Munson! You'll kill someone one day."

"Yeah, but I know my prince in shining armour will come to save me," Eddie remarked, his tongue darting out between his teeth as he leaned close to Steve's face, his arms tucked behind his back. Steve pushed him away, picking up an odd-looking rock and stepping over the hunters as he exited the cave.

Dustin jumped out of the bush, rushed towards Steve and flung his arms out. However, Dustin ran past him and tugged Eddie in a firm embrace, punching the air out of his lungs, and Steve felt his eye twitch uncontrollably, and his eyebrows dug into his skin. Henderson had spent two seconds with the guy, yet they were inseparable, and Steve was furious with it. Steve crossed his arms over his chest plate, his feet tapping on the grass steadily, and Eddie raised his eyebrows at him questionably, tearing himself away from Steve's squire.

"Seems someone's pissed," Eddie whispered in Dustin's ear but loud enough for Steve to hear, and Dustin giggled. Steve threw his arms in the air and stormed in a direction, hoping it was the path that led to the tower, but he didn't have time to check as he spiralled in anger. "Aw, come on, Stevie! I was only joking," Eddie called from behind him, the pitter-patter of feet following him, but Eddie's tone was not apologetic or genuine. Steve ignored him, ducking under a tree branch and returning to his rampage.

"Steve!" Dustin yelled, and Steve snapped his head to the young boy, a map in his hand. "You're going the wrong way. The tower's this way," Dustin pointed behind them, Eddie snickering beside him as Steve cursed under his breath.

"I knew that," He didn't know that, "I was just making sure Munson knew the way back to the village."

Eddie wandered over to Steve, slapping him lightly on the shoulder as he rested his weight on Steve's stature. "That bridge has burnt, my prince charming. It seems I'm joining you two on your adventure." Eddie's pockets jingled as he shifted his shoulders theatrically, turning to Dustin, who was making his iconic puppy eyes and pleading to Steve. He pinched the bridge of his nose, the pressure grounding him to the flooring, and groaned.

"Whatever, as long as he doesn't drain us of our blood." He pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, who grabbed his shoulder as if it were in pain and gasped. "Come on. I want to sleep in a bed tonight instead of the floor." Steve shouldered his way between the two boys and walked in the direction Dustin had directed them towards, mentally prepping himself for a few weeks stuck with Eddie Munson. Steve wasn't going to make it to the tower in one piece.

Night had descended upon them as quickly as it had fled, coating the area in shadows that played with the corners of Steve's mind. The fire crackled by Steve's feet, the only sound in the clearing, and the searing warmth spread throughout Steve's body, combatting the chilled breeze that swept the camp. Dustin shifted in his sleep, murmuring nothing as he adjusted the blanket that covered his body poorly, and returned to unconsciousness as Steve watched the treeline. Eddie slid past a tree, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand but missing the few drops of blood that skidded down his shirt, permanently staining it.

"I'm surprised you're still awake, Stevie," Eddie stage-whispered, sitting down on a log parallel to Steve's seat, the gentle glow of the campfire accentuating Eddie's masculine features and cedar eyes. They looked like honey in the glimmer, capturing Steve's attention, though he would never admit it. "Usually, by the time I come back from hunting, you're fast asleep next to Henderson."

It was true - in the time Steve and Eddie had spent, Steve had gotten used to the daily hunting schedule Eddie would follow. Eddie would sneak off once Dustin was fast asleep, eat any animal he could find, and come back to camp hours after leaving, usually to Steve asleep. But earlier that day, they had been ambushed by more Vampire Hunters (someone must have a reward out for Eddie), and the adrenaline rush hadn't fled his system, so Steve was jittery and unable to sleep. When he did try, flashes of waking up to Eddie gone and Dustin injured would taunt Steve, so naturally, he couldn't close his eyes.

He knew it was stupid - they could protect themselves easily without Steve's help - but the images were so detailed they shook Steve to his core and activated a protective part of Steve he had no idea lived within him. Sure, his entire job was protecting people as a knight, but not in the way that fuelled his veins when his brain tricked him into seeing Dustin's dead body and a bound bard with his throat slit open - that thought haunted him the most, sending tears to sting his eyes and his heart to patter like a hummingbird.

"Can't sleep," He replied lazily, rubbing the palms of his hands together and facing them towards the fire pit. In the flicker of salmon, he could see the light scars that writhed on his skin, stark against his tanned arms, and the memories of training scarred him. He had spent countless months fighting monsters for his father's approval, scars littering his body as evidence, and the King dared to say it wasn't good enough. Steve hated his father with a burning passion and had to prove what 'enough' was for him. "You have blood all down your shirt."

"Shit, not again," Eddie pressed his chin to his chest, examining the blood-stained cloth with an agitated brow. Standing up, Eddie pulled the hem of the shirt over his head, revealing his bare torso, and chucked the tunic to one side to clean in the sunshine. Steve averted his eyes from the sight, a deep flush blooming on his face like a wildflower. "Hope you don't mind me being half-naked." Eddie cackled like the fire, and Steve waved his hand in the air.

"I don't care, as long as you wash your clothes this time." Steve, labelled as the 'mom' of the campaign, was tormented with the latter's chores and duties whilst they slacked off or wrestled. It annoyed Steve, of course, but he completed their tasks - if they weren't going to do them, who would?

The moon peeked over the greenery of leaves and branches, casting a ghostly shine on the clearing, and it bounced off Eddie's hair, making him seem angelic as Steve finally met eyes with him. Steve could see the hollow in his collarbones, white as a sheet and beautiful like the rest of him, and black ink carvings stretched around Eddie's ribs. It was strange to see the image of bats flying upwards on Eddie's skin, but Steve didn't comment. He dipped his eyes lower slyly, and his heart halted at the tuft of hair that led south.

"Yes, okay, I'm sorry," Eddie leaned his chest forward, folding himself for a moment as his grin split his face. "It was only a few times, alright? I promise to do all of my chores by myself."

"Good," Steve finalised. His voice was raspy and cold, and Eddie's brows piqued before settling back. Whatever he wanted to joke to Steve about was lost to the wind, the two watching the fire rage the dark corners of the forest. Moments passed between them, the howling of a distant animal filling the nightly silence, broken when Steve said, "What did you do to make those guys hunt you down?"

Eddie's brow furrowed, creases forming along the spotless skin, and a shudder ran through his body. "A few months ago, a girl died - a girl who I named my friend. There were bitemarks found on her neck, her body dried of blood." He swallowed a lump around his throat, his eyes squarely on the fire, and Steve saw his hands fidgeting with the silver rings that adorned his slim fingers. "Her lover, Jason - the guy you beat up in the cave weeks ago - thought it was me. He spread rumours about me, some being true, but I didn't kill-- Chrissy." The word sent a flare of goosebumps down his spine, pain infiltrating his voice. "So I skipped town, hoping I could leave behind her murder and Jason, but they caught up with me, and word spread like wildfire, so now I have a flock of assholes ready to take my head." He sliced his thumb across the thick stump of his neck, a humourless chortle breezing past his lips, but it broke and fried in the air like paper or ash.

"Those maidens, in the pub," Steve's eyes stayed on the bouncing motion of Eddie's leg, "were you going to drain them?" The question had been bugging Steve since he found out Eddie's truth - the form of him revealed in a state of vulnerability, and Steve's mind couldn't help fleeing to queries and possibilities.

"No, I don't drink human blood." Eddie paused, eyeing the fire and the crackles that bounced within it. "And I wasn't going to do other things with them. The truth is: that I don't see women that way. Never have, never will. Those girls were drunk and flung themselves onto me, and I wanted to make you jealous, Sir LadiesMan." Steve groaned at the nickname, Eddie cackling at Steve's eye roll until returning to his serious tone. "I have my eyes set on someone else, but that seems like a fleeting possibility with each rising day."

"Wait, wait," Steve flung his arms around as if he could halt time like a mage. "You, Eddie Munson, have a crush on someone?"

"I know, what a tragic turn of events." The two laughed, and the tension that strung the air eased. "Honestly, I should give up on them. This guy is a total bonehead and cares more about his hair than anything else."

"He sounds like a bonehead," Steve commented. Eddie breathed a heavy sigh.

"You have no idea." Eddie shook his head, pressing the fire with a stick, and something stuck in his voice dug deep into Steve's core. A sort of irony threaded his vocal cords, a secret only Eddie knew, and a burning desire sprung up on Steve - he wanted to understand more about the vampiric bard.

"What are they like?" Eddie's eyes shot up to Steve and watched Steve's expression like one wrong move would send them plummeting into the abyss. "Like personality-wise, despite being a bonehead. What made you fall head over heels for this mystery man?"

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, throwing the stick to one side as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, for starters, they're stubborn. I mean, wouldn't let you throw a punch even if you had started a fight." Eddie's hands moved as he talked, telling a story that Steve was mesmerised by, and he couldn't help but feel a heat rise in his cheeks when the fire's light would glimmer against the rings. "And they're handsome, with the darkest eyes I've ever seen that shine in the sunlight like a thousand suns. And, I mean, his ass," Eddie's palms shot to the sky as if he were gripping the man's bottom, "is honestly one of a kind, and I don't think he knows it at all."

Steve threw his head back in laughter, and Eddie continued his rambling. A nauseous twist enveloped Steve's chest like envy or jealousy. It was odd, thinking that Eddie had someone who Eddie admired so wholeheartedly, whilst Steve felt pangs of pain shoot through his heart. Steve didn't think of Eddie that way - as someone Steve could snuggle up to after a long adventure and watch the golden streams of new light pour over the horizon - but he couldn't help but think Eddie was talking about him. What a silly thought.

"He's brave, braver than most men I know, and he is kind." He shifted on the log, so he sat on the edge of it, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands flapped about whilst his voice spoke with certainty. "Not kind as in picks-flowers-and-braids-your-hair-type kind, but he would risk his life daily for a low-life who doesn't deserve to live." Sadness spread through his eyes, carving the darkness that had caved his irises before he snapped back to his perky self, cupping his hands in the air again. "Did I mention his ass?"

"Yes, Munson, you've mentioned his ass." Steve giggled, shaking his head lightly and digging his teeth into the inside of his mouth. "He sounds like a great person."

"He is," Eddie breathlessly said, staring at Steve with a fondness that crawled under his skin. It was rare for someone to pin an emotion deeply into Steve's soul, for someone to make his flesh shudder with gooey feelings, but Eddie had done it by snapping his fingers, and Steve wanted to scream out his lungs. "But the worst part is, he's dense. Denser than a mountain; I don't think he swings that way, have even looked at a man the same way I look at him." An overwhelming plead glazed Eddie's earthy brown eyes like he was asking Steve for an answer he couldn't provide. Not now.

"Talk to him," Steve said, and Eddie scoffed, making Steve quickly add, "Seriously! Speak to the guy. He might like you back."

"I've tried. I've tried sending the guy hints in all the ways I can, but he's a dense motherfucker." After a moment, Eddie slapped his inner thighs, defeat evident in his voice. "Anyway, you've heard enough about my sad life. I'm off to hit the hay. Night, Harrington." Before Steve could usher a word in, Eddie had waved goodbye and walked off, slipping down a tree and wrapping a blanket around his frail frame. Steve watched, giving the man a smile when they locked eyes and left him to his slumber.

The night was long, not offering much of a distraction from the licking fire and the chirping of crickets in the distance. Steve stayed awake until dawn, eyeing the forest for movement. They packed up camp, back on the road for their destination, whilst Steve fought the pitch-blackness that surrounded his vision. But something stuck with him that combated the exhaustion that made his limbs heavy and a head full of fog: Why did Steve want to be Eddie's mystery man?

A cacophony of music blasted into Steve's ears, bodies of people slamming into him and streamers lining the skies in differentiating hues. People laughed, swaying with goblets of beer and ale splashing onto the cobbled streets, and Steve had to keep a firm grip on Henderson - Eddie kept close to Steve's side, tugging the hood of his cloak further down his face to disguise his features. Maidens in layered skirts and flowery corsets squeezed past the troop, giggling with their hands interlocked as a string of dyed ribbon flew past them, creating intricate patterns in the air. He noted a redhead with azure eyes looking at Dustin, her face void of the unbridled happiness that spread through the other girls, and her freckled face turned away and into the sea of people.

Steve swam through the minute gaps of people, eyeing the parade floats and confetti lining the streets. They had shown up at the village outside the castle, eager to restock on supplies and equipment that would help Steve save the damsel locked away, but they had stumbled upon a party of celebrations - for what, he didn't know. But even with the claustrophobic crowds, Steve pressed forward, exhilaration pooling in his stomach to think he could rid himself of Eddie and the confusing feeling that weighed him down. No more shirtless Munson or his impish smirks or rotten personality (although nothing about Eddie could be that putrid, in Steve's opinion. Eddie was the definition of a god, a hero, a bard who made Steve's knees tremble).

The townsfolk screamed when a chariot appeared, dusted in gold and pearls, and a pasty boy waved out of the window. He was skinny, with no meat on his bones, and his hair was blacker than night. Dustin waved at him and caught the prince's attention, and a huge smile grew on his face. The King, a bored-looking man with no interest in his followers, pulled the prince back inside and closed the maroon curtains, sadness curdling in his Henderson's irises. Steve could tell they were royalty by their golden crowns and white horses, practically the same he had at home, but Steve was surprised the prince (Mike, he assumed) would be so small, although he made up for it in height. When Steve was his age, his father had slapped it into Steve that Steve had to be strong. Otherwise, he would be left to rot in the stables for the night. Maybe that was another reason he wanted to accomplish the mission in such a hurry.

Without another word, Steve dragged Dustin into a clearing, disregarding the elderly drunkards that lined the walls, and strolled through the alleys for the particular shop. He had been in the small space before, and Steve wanted to see how his old friend was doing in harsh times. However, as he turned the corner that led onto the store's road, he bumped into a horse and stumbled back to see the cunning smile of Billy Hargrove.

"Harrington," Billy sang, his fingers uncurling from his sword as he peered down at the group, "Didn't expect you here. What are you all doing in Hawkins?"

His pearly teeth shone in the golden glaze of the sun, and Steve felt the overwhelming urge to punch all of his teeth out. Steve and Billy were acquaintances once upon a time, but their allies had burned a long while ago. All that remained was a fury that burned Steve's veins like oil. "Just picking up supplies," Steve tugged his corners in a smile to cover the sneer on his lips, but he glared Billy down as his horse - a light brown with white and black spots coating its mane - trotted on the cobble.

"On another of your childish adventures? Oh, and you've brought friends!" Billy jutted his chin at Dustin and Eddie, who stared at the shining armour that Billy adorned. Billy raked his perfect smile to Eddie, and he stumbled back, tugging his hood further down. "And who might this be?"

"A friend," Steve quickly answered, only sending Billy's mouth to widen and contort wickedly. "We're busy, and I'm sure you have a lot of... work to do, so may we squeeze past?" Steve motioned for the road, Billy's eyes dragging from Eddie to Steve's in a long, anguid motion, and Steve's stomach recoiled in rage. With a huff from Billy's horse, he trotted down the path, his eyes never leaving Steve's until he was far away. Steve exhaled a short breath, nodding at Jonathan, who he hadn't noticed with his attention solely on the beast Hargrove. Jonathan nodded, digging his heels lightly into his muddied horse and walking away.

"You know that asshole, Steve?" Eddie piped up as they strolled down the streamer-littered road, Steve's eyes on the hanging sign outside the storefront. It was in all black metal, a small cauldron with a smaller cat swaying idly in the breeze, and in bold letters, the words, 'Buckley's Wacko Antiques' shone in the light.

"We were in the same academy," Steve explained, loosening his heavy grip on Dustin's arm and letting his hand drop to his side. Eddie moved to Steve's side, a searching crease in his brow as he stared at Steve's side profile, but Steve kept his eyes trained on the shop as if it would walk away if he turned his back. "Billy joined a couple of years in but got all of this praise when Hargrove defeated a swarm of owlbears. He bested me at everything, so we had this rivalry - it hasn't stopped. He's a royal guard now, but rumours say he's fornicating with the Queen."

"The Queen?" Eddie squeaked as Steve pushed open the open to Buckley's shop, the bell above him jangling loudly. He wandered in, Eddie and Dustin hot on his heels as they peered around the place, and the slam of incense hit Steve's nostrils like a brick. He never got used to the smell, even after spending years camped in the backroom. "What is this place?" Eddie asked no one in particular, twirling a string of herbs around with his talon-like nails, enthralled by the glamorous junk that hung from the ceiling, and Steve felt his heart jolt.

Robin jumped up from behind the counter. "Buckley's Wacko Antique shop, of course!" She yelled, startling Henderson and Munson out of their bewilderment as Steve fixed Robin's crooked hat. "Steve-o! So good to see you. Why did you bring two dinguses who can't read into my shop?" She pointed a nail at the two as they regained their composure.

"They can read, don't you worry." Steve turned his head to Munson, flashing Eddie a smirk as he rested his elbows on the counter. "So, you know how you love me so very, very much?"

Robin turned from sorting out her collection of cacti to stare flatly at Steve, dusting off powder from her shirt. "What do you need this time?" She said with a dull tone, resting against the rickety bookshelf (not full of books) and crossing one pant leg over the other. Steve circled the counter, eyeing the two boys who fiddled with trinkets as Steve grabbed Robin's arm.

"I need two things," He began in a hushed tone, eyes flickering to Eddie, and Robin's eyebrows jutted downwards. "One, a weapon that can kill a swarm of demobats. And two, a spell that could make feelings disappear? Permanently?"

Robin groaned, her dirty blonde curls bouncing as she shook her head, and she quickly ushered Steve into the backroom with waving wands. "Don't break anything!" She called out before shutting the door, turning to Steve with a pointed look. "Why do you want a spell that could erase feelings?"

Steve sucked in his teeth, swinging his head back and forth as he pondered. Robin was his best friend, the one to take him in after countless arguments with his parents, so surely she would understand Steve's predicament. After Steve had to aid her to health after Vickie crushed Robin's soul into a thousand pieces, he was sure Robin could help Steve in his slightly more harrowing situation.

"Did you see that guy back there?" He jabbed his pointer finger at the door, sinking back into the couch as a cloud of dust enveloped him. Robin rocked her head, crossing her arms over her chest in thought.

"The one with pale skin and the cloak on?"

"Yes! Well, he showed up, and I've had some..." He smoothed a hand through his hair, feeling strands slip through his fingers, and the fog in his head grew stronger until a single thought was like static. "Issues to deal with because of it. The type that I don't get around... guys." Robin's eyes went huge when a wash of understanding hit her, and Steve lolled his head back as comfortable as he could in his armour. "So I need to rid myself of these feelings and let him go. He likes someone else, and I can't stand the heartache anymore."

"How long have you been travelling together?" Robin queried, sitting beside Steve as he looked around the familiar room. It hadn't changed much since the last time he had left - a single window in the corner that collected spiderwebs instead of light, the piles of crates filled with nicknacks, the stain on the carpet Steve didn't know what caused it, and the broom that sat in the corner as the only witness to Steve's crisis besides Robin. Memories flooded Steve of the countless times he had slept in the dingy storage closet and the banter he had shared with Buckley on the same couch they were sitting on as Steve wished for a hole to swallow him up.

Steve sucked in a hard breath, his lungs filling with dust and the stale smell of incense. "A few weeks, nearly a month." Robin shot up, glaring at Steve as she sat on the edge of her seat.

"Nearly a month?! And you only decided to talk to me about this now instead of sending a memo with the crystal I got you for that exact purpose?!" She screamed, her hands flying everywhere as she exasperatedly sighed. Steve had the crystal, it sat on the bottom of his bag along with his other belongings, but he thought it was better to confront his emotions with Robin than over the swishy illusion of her face and voice. "Steve, you're hopeless. I'm sorry, I can bring you the weapon, but a spell you're asking for doesn't exist."

With a groan, Steve sank further into the feather-filled pillows, wishing it was a pit he could fling himself into and never see the light of day again. "Great. So, I'm stuck with Eddie and these feelings forever?"

"You act like it's his fault, Steve." Robin chucked off her hat, watching it float to the dust-covered floor. "But it's not yours either. Maybe try talking to him, and figure something out. Don't hex yourself to lock away your emotions until they inevitably spill out and are left as nothing but a sobbing carcass."

After a moment of silence, Robin rested her hand on Steve's shoulder, grounding him to reality. "This will pass. Whatever's going on in that thick skull of yours will fade, and you'll be a better person for it." She softly spoke, her nose pinching as she considered a thought. "Unless you break that poor boy's heart, which if you do, I will personally hunt you down and feed you to a pack of hogs." They laughed, the tension that filled Steve's ribs easing, and Robin rapped her knuckles against Steve's metal armour before standing up. "Let's get you that sword."

Steve joined Dustin's side as he examined a finger trapper whilst Robin fled upstairs, her feet echoing on the creaky floorboards, and Steve's eyes flickered to Eddie. His hood was down, revealing the dark curls coiled into a tight bun, sitting on the back of his neck, and his ears flapped with every noise Robin made. Had he heard the conversation? No, Eddie would have burst through the door if he had listened to Steve announce his stupid crush to Eddie fucking Munson, vampire bard.

His fingers were curled around a book, flicking between pages and reading the scribble Steve couldn't make out. Eddie's dark eyes soared through the words, scanning the doddles in the margins, and his lips curled at one point, his gaze shifting to Steve's through his eyelashes. Steve's face burnt with fire, and he turned back to Dustin with his fingers trapped inside the toy, laughing as Dustin pleaded for help. Eddie's eyes bore holes in the back of Steve's skull, and he tried to ignore the sensation as he clicked the trap to release Dustin.

When Robin appeared again, she handed Steve a heavy parcel. It stunk of gore, heavy and metallic, and Steve had to shift his feet so he could hold it without toppling over. How Buckley could descend stairs carrying the weapon wrapped in parchment, Steve wouldn't know. Dustin handed her the required payment, slinging the pouch back onto his hip and walked out into the streets, Eddie following with a wave to Robin. Steve followed and turned to Robin, leaning on the counter with a smug smile.

"I like him. And I think he likes you too. Good luck!" She waved, and before Steve could question her further, the door swung shut like a gust of wind had slammed it. Steve adjusted the package in his arms, his forearms aching under the weight, and the three made their way to a local tavern. Unlike the last town, Hawkins had an array of pubs and inns for Steve's choosing, but the one he liked most was 'Murray's Hideout'. It was secluded, and the owner was a balding half-ling that could read minds, but Steve enjoyed the isolation (and the rooms weren't a mountain of dust).

The parade had quieted, families vacating back to their respective homes and drunks escaping to the streets or pubs to gorge themselves more. Billy and Jonathan weren't anywhere to be seen, stuck at the palace until Steve could depart for the princess's tower. Streamers hung from ropes that connected house to house, and the sky had bled tangerine, coating the cobbled roads in gold. Robin's shop was magical and had a time curse (something to do with stealing a cat), so Steve wasn't surprised to see the dying sun on the horizon.

The familiar tavern came into view, and Steve anticipated the sweet release of his arms and the plush blankets when two kids rounded the corner. Steve stumbled on his footing, swinging the weapon in his hands until he regained his balance, and Eddie snickered behind him as the elder kid stared up at Steve in awe.

"Are you a knight?" The kid asked, earning an elbow to the ribs from his younger sister, and Steve suppressed a smile. Dustin stepped between Steve and the kid, shorter than the boy but keeping his head in confidence.

"He is, and I'm his squire," Dustin announced as if it were the best news in the world, but the other boy gasped and grinned. The younger sister rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in boredom, but Steve could see how her eyes flickered to the shiny metal that covered his body.

"That's so cool!" The kid exclaimed, reaching out a hand for Dustin to shake, which he did. "I'm Lucas Sinclair, and this creature beside me is my sister. I was wondering if we could get an autograph?"

"An autograph?" Steve murmured, watching Lucas bounce on his heels in excitement.

Eddie came up beside him, ushering the weighted weapon into his arms as he whispered in Steve's ear, "The kid thinks you're famous, Prince Steve." When Steve stepped back, an obnoxious smile that showed off Eddie's fangs bore his face, and he had to retract his arms from cupping Eddie's face and smashing their lips together. Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the burn that swallowed his face, and scribbled on a scrap of parchment from Dustin's bag.

He handed the slip of paper to Lucas, mesmerised by disbelief in his eyes. "There you go, kid. Do you want one too?" Steve pointed at Lucas's sister, who scoffed and tugged on her older brother's arm.

"As if I need your autograph," She said, her voice rich in daggers, and the two left. Lucas and Dustin waved goodbye as Steve turned to Eddie, his face morphed in shock. Eddie snickered, batting Steve away and towards the tavern.

"Come on, big boy. Let's wash your sorrows in beer."

They entered the tavern to see it was surprisingly busy. People and creatures filled every last inch of the pub, chattering noisily about mundane topics and sipping on mead in dented iron chalices. The fireplace crackled in the corner, blazing with fire and casting the room in a honey glow as Steve moved to the bar. He had to squeeze past a golem and a fairy to sit down on the barstool, feeling his armour stick to the surface. Eddie's eyes were wild, taking in the sights as Dustin chatted about topics Steve couldn't wrap his head around. It was like watching Dustin talk to a stone wall, Eddie more enthused by the couple in the corner than Dustin's voice.

Eventually, a waitress in a flour-covered apron approached them. "Three rooms, please," Steve ordered, raking his eyes over the girl's blonde locks and cherry lips. He winked, waiting for the girl to either faint or curl a strand of hair as she giggled delightfully, but the waitress simply nodded and walked away, unfazed by Steve's charm.

"Smooth move, Harrington," Eddie piped up, having to shout over the noise of the tavern. "Is this how you get all of the ladies?"

"Shut up, Munson," Steve barked, watching Eddie snicker. It was soft and airy, breezing past the stray hairs on Steve's neck, and he felt a lightning bolt down his spine. The corners of Eddie's eyes were wrinkled, two dimples forming at the corner of his lips, and the apple of Eddie's cheeks were high and mighty. If Steve were a poet, he could create a hundred different stories of how Eddie's beauty was magnificent, even in the packed and sticky bar.

The lady appeared again, sticking a pencil behind her ear and frowning at Steve. "We've only got two rooms. Either take it or find somewhere else to sleep."

Steve racked his brain for an alternative. If Murray's was busy, that meant every other inn would be too, and Steve would much rather sleep in a dragon's mouth than the brittle floor of the outside. But that would mean Steve and Eddie would have to share a room, and anxiety lodged in Steve's throat. He would have to endure Eddie beside him all night, with messy hair and the soft snores that kept Steve awake at night, wondering what a life filled with Munson would be.

Swallowing the clump of iron, Steve took the two keys and led the two out of the crowd and to the staircase. After he tucked Dustin into bed, placing the cool metal on top of his chest of drawers, he unlocked the door to Steve and Eddie's shared room. The shadows licked at Steve's mind, taunting him with malicious hands and scowls, and Steve quickly lit the lamp to rid of the plaguing shadows.

The room was small, one bed tucked into the corner and an assortment of other furniture strewn about the place, but Steve kept his eyes on the bed. He knew Eddie wasn't like most vampires who slept in the rafters or upside down, so he would have to be in the same bed as Eddie until dawn, and Steve's stomach threatened to spill its contents. His hands shook, and he felt the shudder ring from his armour.

Eddie manoeuvered around him, leaning the package in the beige walls and jumping into the bed. A low sigh escaped his lips, his eyes shut and his arms cushioning his head as he wriggled around in the blankets and pillows. "This is nice, Harrington. I'll be sure to get your tavern recommendations after we save the princess."

Steve threw the room key on the wax-dripped drawers, moving to remove his armour. "You're leaving after we save the princess?" His voice dripped with disappointment, and he cringed when the words left his lips. He pulled off his chest plate, his muscles singing in a holy choir of joy, and he rested it down by the pile of bags as he moved to the other pieces.

"Of course," Eddie said, leaning on his side with his arm propping up his head. The glow from the candlelight poured on Eddie's skin like gold, his eyes a deep shimmer of honey, and an inky tattoo peeked from the unbuttoned front of his shirt. Steve rested more armour on the pile, feeling his heart crack like a ceramic bowl. "I can't keep annoying you forever, and I have my mystery man, remember?" The last part sounded rushed, quickly tact on to riddle out confusion, but Steve guessed it was his mind playing tricks on him.

"Of course," Steve echoed, his armour clanging together as he chucked the last set off and stretched out his limbs. Eddie moved on the bed to make room for Steve, his cloak hanging off the back of a chair and hair pulled from the bun, and Steve sat away from Eddie's all-seeing eyes. "I'm not sure what I'll do after this mission. Probably go back to my kingdom, get married off to someone I don't know, and rule until I'm grey and withered."

Steve wasn't sure what made him honest. It was probably the thought that the two of them stuck near each other for the night or that they had so little time left until they parted ways. The idea of never seeing Eddie again - of not watching his little performances in the campfire and staring at the cedar pools - made Steve's heart sink to the floor. He would have jumped for joy a few weeks ago, but never hearing Eddie's voice again or watching him snap the neck of another vampire hunter was death to Harrington. Steve wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

"Why can't you just not do that?" Eddie asked, all sense of tease gone from his voice, and Steve turned back to see him staring at the ceiling on his back. "You're the prince. I'm sure they'll let you not rule a kingdom if you don't want to."

"It's also my father." Steve sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang like a limp doll. "He has these expectations of me I have to uphold. He'll let me go on adventures to save damsels and become a knight, but I have to rule the kingdom no matter what. That's been the plan since before I was born."

"That's bullshit." Eddie snapped, sitting beside Steve and pulling him from his position to stare at Eddie. Eddie's fingers dug into Steve's shoulders, and his brows were conjoined, burrowed deep into his skin and shading his eyes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want, whether or not it's your father's plans. Run away, build a hut in the woods and live a life in isolation if your father doesn't get the picture. He doesn't control your life, Steve."

"Munson, stop worrying yourself over my affairs," Steve muttered, a smile creasing his lips but not reaching his eyes. He pulled Eddie's arms away from him but kept his fingers locked around Eddie's wrist, staring at the silver rings. "I'll figure it out."

The silence spread over them like snow, filling the room in an icy tension Steve didn't have the energy to resolve. He kept his eyes on Eddie's fingers, his skin burning where it met with Eddie's, and the flame licked the walls in spurting waves. Time slipped from Steve's grasp until he met Eddie's gaze, frightened by the darkness that invaded Eddie's sclera.

Dribble shimmered on the corner of Eddie's lips, black veins darting from Eddie's eyes, and when his lips parted, rows of teeth glittered in the light. Steve's heart pitter-pattered against his ribcage, a solemn fear curling deep in his abdomen, and Eddie could sense that as he backed away. One arm shielded Steve's view of Eddie's face as he shakily spoke.

"Sorry, sorry. I haven't fed today, so this happens." A dry chuckle left Eddie's lips, gesturing to his body, and Steve felt the petrified daze leave his body. He was still Eddie Munson. "I'll leave and sleep outside."

When Eddie got up to leave, Steve instinctively grappled his wrist, snapping Eddie's attention towards him. "I'm not afraid of you, Munson." Eddie's eyes searched Steve's face, flickering between his eyes before promptly sitting back down. He was still wary, Steve could sense that by his shaky leg, but he kept his grip on Eddie. "You can just... Feed on me?"

The thought of Eddie biting his neck, feasting on Steve's blood, left an odd feeling tugging at his stomach. It poured fire on Steve's face, and he could feel himself twitch, ice water dripping down his back. It wasn't supposed to be arousing, leaving Steve with a flurry of mist in his brain and a chest clotted with cotton. When he looked back at Eddie's face, it was bright red, his teeth working on his bottom lip in contemplation.

"You're okay with that?" Eddie hesitantly asked, and Steve nodded his head too eagerly. He felt the coils of embarrassment take over him, but he didn't have time before Steve was pushed onto the bed, his back hitting the cushions beneath him and a curtain of hair blackening the corners of his vision. "Tap me twice if it gets too much." Steve didn't have time to register Eddie's words as he brought Steve's wrist to his mouth, kissing the skin and his tongue darting out to lick stripes on the blue veins.

A shockwave surged through Steve, inky pools staring at him through swooping lashes that made his eyes look like the ocean - forever going and holding mysteries. It was like looking at space and seeing it look at you back. Eddie looked seductive like a succubus. His lips curled in a devilish smile as his teeth grazed Steve's skin. Wave after wave of pleasure left Steve gasping for breath, his head filling only with thoughts of Eddie and his blown-out pupils, and Eddie moved between Steve's legs, his knee dangerously close to the crease in Steve's trousers. When Eddie finally sunk his fangs into Steve's wrist, a flash of pang blinded him, flooding to a dull thrum as excitement swam in his veins. Steve could feel every flick of Eddie's tongue and every hot breath that breezed on his skin. He covered his quivering mouth with his hand to stifle the growing noises that resonated in the back of Steve's throat.

Eddie pushed away from Steve's wrist, blood and saliva mixing down the sides of his face, and Eddie lapped his tongue over the puncture points before shooting to Steve's neck. Eddie pressed lazy kisses down Steve's neck, his adam's apple bobbing sluggishly, and he smirked against his skin.

"Enjoying this?" Eddie asked with his voice bass and whispering on the shell of Steve's ear, creating a surge of flames spiking on Steve's skin. Eddie moved his head to press kiss after kiss on the side of Steve's face, thumb rubbing the ichor that dribbled down Steve's wrist. Steve's throat was tight, his vocal cords plunged in a sea of darkness he couldn't reach, and Eddie chuckled lowly at Steve's silence. "Should I keep going?"

Steve, who teetered on the verge of consciousness, nodded and felt Eddie plunge his teeth into his neck, sucking the gore that bled from the wound. Electricity and magick sang in his body, melting all the tension from his muscles and the deep thrum of pain as Eddie fed greedily on Steve's neck. When Eddie moved away, a 'pop' echoed in the room, and Steve was brought back to reality instead of the cosmos where he had been swimming. Eddie kissed his neck and wrist, empathy pouring from his eyes, and he got off Steve and sat on the bed.

"How do you feel?" Eddie pondered, guilt seeping into his voice as Steve sat up, coaxing his hair back to normality. He felt great, ecstatic even, but he couldn't find the words to express that without coming off as creepy. Although he allowed his friend to snack on his blood, it couldn't get any stranger than that.

"Fine. I'm fine," Steve adjusted the collar of his tunic, clearing his throat to rid the raspy voice that took over his vocal cords. "And you? Do you need to feed anymore?" The harsh, black vines were gone, replaced with the bags that rested under Eddie's eyes, and the black goo filled with white and russet. Eddie's hair was tangled, coating his shoulders in waterfalls of frizzy dusk, and his shirt shrouded with creases where there weren't before. How long had Eddie been feeding?

"No, I'm alright now," Eddie's chest heaved heavily, and overwhelmed with worry, Steve brought a hand to Eddie's back. He snapped his head to Steve, peering into his eyes, and Eddie eased into Steve's touch. "Thank you, Steve. You didn't have to do that, but you did, and now I feel like a fool for not feeding earlier." A chuckle rattled Eddie's torso, a hand combing through his mane, and he kept his eyes on the flooring.

"Eddie, I wanted you to do that, alright? I'm happy your feeding on me if you need to - that's no problem." Steve smiled, and Eddie returned it, but it didn't reach his eyes. With no other way to resolve the thick air, Steve clambered under the blankets and left room for Eddie, who quickly followed in pursuit. Once Eddie was under the covers, staring at the ceiling, Steve snuffed out the flame.

The drunkard chatters hammered on downstairs, conversations buzzing in the silence, but Steve couldn't pick out any words. It was all noise; not a single syllable sang out in Steve's mind as his eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness. Eddie's breaths had calmed down, but Steve could tell the man wasn't asleep yet. So they sat in silence, listening to each other breathe and watching the moon poking out from the clouds outside their window.

Exhaustion hadn't taken hold of Steve yet, and he played with a loose string until Eddie's voice rang out. "How long is the travel to the tower?"

"Less than a day," Steve answered, reality sinking into his skin like a beetle. In less than a day, he and Eddie would have to part ways, and Steve could feel the hollowing of his heart surge through his chest. It was like a black hole, sucking in everything Steve felt until there was nothing.

"Oh," Eddie mumbled and laid on his side, dark eyes pouring holes into Steve's form. "Hey, Steve?"

Steve turned to face Eddie, the moonlight accenting Eddie's jaw and doe eyes. "Yeah?"

"I have something I need to tell you." Eddie's voice shook violently, and he hesitated for a moment. A splurge of hope formed in Steve's chest, lighting the wick of his heart to combust and burn like wildfire. "I... When we get to the tower, please don't say anything dorky."

Oh.

Steve felt the light sputter out pathetically, tendrils of smoke filling his lungs heavily, but he tugged his lips into a smile and shook his head. "Goodnight, Munson."

"Night, Stevie," Eddie whispered, turning around so his back faced Harrington, and he did the same. He stared at the wall until Eddie's breath evened out, and he kept on staring until the weight of his eyelids caught up with him, and he swept into a dreamless sleep.

When Steve for the quest from a guy named Argyle, he had envisioned a dark, looming tower with storm clouds brewing above it, bloody streaks of lightning crashing in the sky, and a tornado of bats swarming the walls, ready to bite off Steve's head with their razor-sharp teeth. What Steve had envisioned was epic and challenging, with Dustin by his side and Eddie helping him defeat the bats in swift strides to rescue the princess locked away at the top. However, when the fortress loomed above them, there were no storm clouds or oozing black walls; there was no lightning, epic battle or even demobats - Just a column of the castle and the top, the prison for the princess.

Steve searched the overgrown grounds, looking for some indication that it was a trap or that something would leap out for them at the last second. But as Steve drew closer to the ivy-covered walls, it seemed there was no trap. Steve turned to his teammates perplexed, shrugging his shoulders. Dustin dropped the heavy battleaxe made for a giant and wobbled to Steve, leaving it hidden in the tallgrass as Eddie peered at the prison more.

"This isn't what I was expecting," Dustin admitted, prodding the brick with the tip of his dagger. It crumbled away but still held tightly, the bleached debris contrasting to the fluorescent greenery by their feet that reached to the tops of their thighs. "I imagined fire and demons and a lot more badassery. It looks like something from a children's book, not a tale between friends who save a damsel in distress."

"Now, that," Eddie roared, ruffling Dustin's curly locks as he tried to bat him away, "sounds like a fairytale." He skipped past Steve, kicking down the splintering door and gleaming at the two, courage flaring in his eyes. "I bet there are monsters inside waiting for us. Come on!" And without another word, Eddie ran up the circling staircase, Dustin laughing as he followed, leaving Steve in the doorway. He turned back, the hollowing of his chest stinging as he realised they had come to the end of their journey and walked past the barrier into the fort.

It smelt heavily of dust as Steve ascended the staircase, coursing his fingertips over the bumps and cracks of the wall. He was surprised the towering castle was still standing with its staircase and the ghostly howls of breeze rushing in. Dustin and Eddie had no regard for the crumbled stairs as they raced up them, their laughter ricocheting off the walls and yelling at Steve's eardrums. The stairs seemed to go on forever, stretching like toffee before Steve's eyes. As he grumbled, evident no monsters were lurking in the shadows. Steve allowed his mind to wander to other things - namely, what had happened between him and Eddie last night.

The ceaseless fire curled on his face at the memory of Eddie on top of him, kissing his neck and face before feeding off his life force and gore. Steve's stomach swirled like a vortex, and he checked the wound on his wrist, which had healed overnight and the one on his neck. He was thankful he didn't have to explain the bitemarks on his neck, but something gnawed at him. The tension between them was as thick as expired milk, and Steve couldn't hide from his feelings anymore. He liked Munson more than he ever liked anyone before, and it seemed Eddie did too. But that didn't set everything into place, and Steve had to consider whose Eddie's mystery man was. If he survived the flight of stairs, he planned to ask Eddie about everything - the secret crush, the tension, the feelings, all of it.

"Hurry up, Steve!" Dustin called out, his head peeking from one of the stairs. They were miles ahead of Steve, who huffed in frustration, waving a hand about as he caught his breath. "You're slower than my grandpa. Hurry up!"

Steve didn't know what he'd do with Henderson after they completed their quest. He could send him to the academy and make him train as Steve did, but Steve recalled the beatings and torture he endured by his fellow squires, and Dustin didn't need any more shit in his life. Steve could keep Dustin as his squire, train him under his wing and continue their adventures. However, Steve wanted to retire, especially if a domestic life was an opportunity for him (especially if Eddie was in that life. He was only twenty and already thinking about settling down with a bard Steve's known for a month, yeesh). Steve raked his fingers through his hair furiously, storming up the concrete slabs to catch up with the two rascals.

When they reached the top, the three caught their breaths from their dying lungs. Eddie leaned on the wall, his hair flying everywhere, and when Steve pointed a concerned look at him, Eddie jabbed his thumbs to the sky and smiled. He's alright. After a minute, Steve slapped his fiery cheeks and rapped his knuckles on the crooked door, but it swung on its hinges.

Peering inside, Steve saw nothing but blackness. He could make out curtains swishing in the wind and the bedframe, with four bedposts at every corner and fabric shielding it from the outside. As his eyes adjusted, Steve could see two figures on the bed, and Steve pressed his fingers to the hilt of his sword, stepping ready for attack. Carpet swallowed the floor, cushioning Steve's slow steps towards the bed, and he saw the room covered with antiques and trinkets - flowers in a vase on top of a chest, a wardrobe full of gowns, and a familiar pile of books Steve knew he had seen before. He shook the thoughts out of his head, turning back to Munson and Henderson and signalled for them to wait outside - which they immediately ignored and stepped inside.

Reaching a hand, Steve pulled back the semi-transparent fabric and squealed like a pig. In the princess's bed was a curly-haired girl, raking her fingers through Robin's hair as they lazily made out. At the sound of Steve's scream of surprise, the two pulled away from each other and stared dumbly at Steve. Their faces were flushed pink, lipstick smudged on Robin's lips, and Eddie covered Dustin's eyes with his hand.

"Robin?!" Steve yelled, uncurling his fingers from his sword.

"Steve?!" Robin shouted back, sitting up in the bed as the princess (Nancy Wheeler) watched their interaction with perplexed eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here snogging the princess I'm supposed to save?" Steve pointed his index finger at Nancy, who shooed it away.

"Can we all please stop yelling and cursing?!" Nancy shouted, adjusting her dress and leaning back against the mound of pillows that sat behind her. Robin's face went pink as she sat back down, cross-legged, and Steve took a step back from the bed. "Now, why are you here?" She pointedly said to Steve, who straightened up under Nancy's watchful eyes and knotted his arms behind his back.

"I heard a damsel was in distress at Hawkins, so my part and I ventured out here to save you," Steve explained, gesturing to Eddie and Dustin, giving the princess lacklustre smiles. "It seems you've already done that by my great friend, Robin." He glared at Robin, and she shrugged her shoulders innocently.

"Ooh," She said, looking at Robin as realisation drowned her sense, "This is Steve! With the crus--" She stopped herself, sheepishly darting her eyes between Steve and Eddie before clearing her throat, her authoritative demeanour returning. "Thank you, Sir Steve, but I am in no need of rescuing."

"Yeah," Robin drew out the word as she stood up, slinging her arm around Steve's shoulders and shaking her hand, "So, when I first heard about the princess, I went out here to save her and stuff. It turns out she just wanted some alone time from her annoying brother. And being the lovely person I am, I decided... To keep her company."

"I'm sure you gave her a lot of company," Eddie teased, earning a jab in the ribs by Steve. Dustin looked between the four of them, Eddie's hand no longer shielding his eyes, perplexed by Eddie's statement. He looked at Steve questionably, and Steve shook his head, silently communicating to Dustin, 'No, I will not explain Eddie's joke, and yes, you'll figure it out when you're older'. No wonder he was nicknamed the 'mom' of the campaign.

"What about the demobats?" Dustin asked, the two girls suddenly realising a kid had watched them, and their faces burnt bright red.

Robin cleared her throat before she explained, "Argyle made them up so people would leave Nance alone-" Nance? How long had Robin been keeping the princess company? "-but it didn't frighten you dinguses away."

"What can we say? We're just brave--"

"--And idiotic. Demobats are very hostile. They can't kill, but they do a lot of damage." Nancy breathed a heavy sigh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shaking her head at Robin with a straight line for her mouth. Robin shrugged her shoulder at her, turning back to the guys.

"Wait," Steve turned to Eddie, who piqued his eyebrows in question, and Steve jabbed a finger into his chest. "Didn't you say you killed a flock of demobats before? Or is that how turned into a vampire?" Steve accidentally let the last part slip out, eyes dashing around the room in worry, but everyone wasn't panicking or readying their pitchforks, so Steve raised his brows at Eddie as he sputtered for an answer.

"Y'know," Eddie drew out the words hesitantly, his palms facing the ceiling as he coiled in on himself, "my tales aren't accurate depictions of my adventures... They aren't even my adventures."

Dustin shot his head around the room, shock and disbelief evident as he glared down his pointed finger. "You're a liar!" He spat the words in a shrilled voice as if anything bards sang about weren't overtly exaggerated for entertainment purposes. Steve laughed when Dustin backed Eddie into a corner, shooting pleading looks at the rest of the group, who cackled as they watched Dustin jab a finger into his chest repeatedly.

"I never stated my songs were accurate retellings of people's quests, so I'm not a liar, Henderson!" Eddie countered, ducking from Dustin's fury and sprinting to hide behind Steve. "Harrington, please save me from Henderson before he kills me."

Steve snickered as he walked away, leaning against a wall and watching Eddie stare at Steve in mock offence. "Sorry, Eds, but I think Henderson's in the right here. You are a liar." Eddie pushed Dustin back by placing his palm over his forehead, keeping him at arm's length as he strolled to Steve. A smirk spread across his face as he locked Steve in by pressing a hand beside Steve's head, a flush melting Steve's smug expression clean off.

"How dare you, Stevie. After all, we've been through." Eddie jutted out his bottom lip, giving Steve puppy eyes as Dustin grimaced, walking towards the girls and audibly gagging. Eddie's other hand slammed against the wall, boxing Steve in, staring at Steve like he was a piece of meat and Eddie was a lion. Steve's stomach swooped, butterflies sprouting from their cocoons inside of him.

"Do you want me to break up your dads from their disgusting flirting?" Princess Nancy asked, not a hint of mockery soaring in her voice, and Eddie grew bright red before he climbed off Steve, still pinned to the wall in shock.

"We are not Henderson's dads." Steve clarified, earning raised eyebrows from both Nancy and Robin, who smiled like she had planned a devious heist and it was working. Steve clicked his tongue, beelining for the door. "It was nice meeting you, Robin's girlfriend, but I have to go now."

A cacophony of noise sounded from the room as Steve stormed down the stairs, his mind buzzing from a million thoughts but not one coherent sentence. It was like a bee had been let out of a jar and stuck inside Steve's head, crashing into the walls and filling his brain with nothing but noise. It was all noise and sounds, and Steve felt the overwhelming urge to run as far as he could before everything came crashing on him. Not only had Eddie been flirting with Steve, but Steve had failed his mission - the quest he had spent months waiting to complete and show off to his father, to maybe get an approving nod or even a proud dad moment. But no, Steve wouldn't get that, and he was stuck ruling a kingdom he hated because his father was an asshole and a control freak, and his mother wouldn't bat an eye.

Steve rushed outside, his lungs inflating violently and rattling against his ribcage as if it would burst. His heart felt like a boulder, crushing his insides into a disgusting ooze that spilt from his ears and eyes - but when Steve went to check, it was only the fat drops of tears that streamed from his eyeballs. He wiped them away quickly with the inside of his wrist, not entirely sure why he was crying but feeling the dam behind his eyes break. Steve had disappointed his father again, for the millionth time, and felt like Steve didn't have a home. If he did return to his cold, lonely castle, he would be forced inside its walls and trapped like the princess. But the princess was free, able to date who she wanted and escape into isolation when Nancy needed, and Steve longed for that so much it broke his bones.

His knees gave out under him, and he crumpled to the floor, wisps of tallgrass smacking into him. The crisp air rushed past him, swaying his body like a leaf, and Steve could see from his milky vision the village and the castle that loomed above it. It didn't seem real to Steve that he had completed his adventure but not in the way he had hoped - he was grateful the princess was safe, but Steve wanted to show his father that he was strong enough, better than his father could ever be with his brittle bones and beer belly. But it was stolen from him, and left was Steve's sobbing carcass, just as Robin had said.

When Steve opened his eyes again, he saw the gorgeous hues of copper irises that haunted his dreams. Eddie crouched in front of Steve, his hands shakily interlocking with Steve's as a soft but genuine smile spread across Eddie's face. It wasn't pitying or distasteful, as the servants had sneered at him when they saw Steve cry, but it was warm and light and made Steve feel like a blanket had wrapped around him. He felt safe.

"Why is Sir LadiesMan crying?" Eddie whispered, barely audible above the crashing breeze, and Steve watched the tendrils of Eddie's hair fly around as the ribbons maiden twirled around at the festival. A hand cupped Steve's cheek, melting him to the touch, and brushed away a stray tear from racing down Steve's face.

"I failed my quest, and now I have to leave you and Henderson behind and stay trapped in those walls for all eternity." Steve quivered out, turning away from Eddie's face, but he brought Steve's eyes back at him, watching Steve like a precious flower. Steve wasn't a flower but a cracked mirror or an oddly-shaped stone, but he couldn't help but feel grateful for Eddie's peering eyes.

After a moment, Eddie spoke again. "Run away with me," He adamantly said, shocking Steve to his core. His tone wasn't harsh or demanding, with no sense of rush in his stature, but as his eyes searched Steve, he could feel the desperation flood his body. "Bring Henderson and Robin, if you'd like. We could start a new life in the woods, away from people, castles, everything. I know everyone jokes about it, but we could raise Henderson as one of our own. I just... I can't stand to see you like this, Steve."

Steve scanned Eddie's eyes to see if it was a trick, but all he found was a glassy look and the walnut colour that fluttered Steve's heart. "Why?" Was all Steve could call out from his spiral, "Why would you want to start a life with me?"

Eddie scoffed, heartedly shaking his head as if it were obvious. "I told you my crush was dense, but I was hoping he wasn't that dense." Eddie chuckled, and Steve brought his eyebrows into a pinch. The bard's words circled Steve's shattering mind, trying to decipher the puzzle that left him in shambles, but Eddie pieced them for Steve as he smashed their lips together. Eddie was soft, the harsh scratch of stubble and fangs moving against Steve's skin as they kissed, realisation dawning on Steve like a brick. Steve was Eddie's mystery man.

When they parted, Steve's lips tingled with the phantom touch of Eddie, and he noticed tears cutting down Eddie's face. He cupped the man's cheeks, reflecting the hold Eddie had on him, and brushed away any tears that fell to Eddie's chin. "Why are you crying?" Steve joked lightheartedly, staring at Eddie like he hung the moon.

"Would it be weird to say I'm crazy in love with you, Steve?" Eddie confessed, blinking away tears, and Steve felt bombs go off in his skin. "I have since you walked into that tavern looking like a wet dog." Eddie laughed, bringing his forehead to press against Steve's. "I saw you and just knew I could never get rid of you. Not with your stupid hair or shitty armour or perfect ass." Steve slapped Eddie's upper arm lightly, relishing the small 'ow' that escaped Eddie's airy laugh.

"I'm also crazily in love with you, Eddie Munson." Steve kissed Eddie's tears, saltwater bleeding into his mouth, and Steve saw the tips of Eddie's pointed ears flush and wiggle excitedly. "You're the most fucking stubborn man I've ever met. One look at you, and boom, you're stuck in my head for days."

The two held each other tightly, pressing light kisses on each other's skin until an exasperated cough came from behind them. Dustin stood in front of the girls, knuckles pressed into his side that reminded Steve a lot of himself, and Robin mouthed the words 'Told you so' at Steve, who promptly flipped her off before standing up.

"Are you done being crybabies, or can we return the princess to her castle?" Dustin shouldered past the startled boys, stomping through the grass, and Eddie ran to catch up with him, tugging him to his side and ruffling his hair until his hat fell off.

"Crying is a perfectly normal thing, knucklehead," Eddie said through gritted teeth, letting go of Henderson before he bashed into Eddie's middle. They wrestled for a bit, shoving each other as Steve watched on fondly, feeling his heartbeat in his chest and every inhale he took.

"Hey!" Steve yelled, his hands cupping around his mouth and grabbing the boys' attention. Steve lowered his hands to his side, a smile splitting his face like a Demogorgon. "Where are we building this cabin again?" Eddie's eyes went huge before swimming in a new pool of tears. Eddie ran to wrap his arms around Steve and hoisted him up into the air, spinning him around feverishly. The two laughed, quickly cut off as Eddie levitated in the air, bringing Steve with him. "You can fly? Since when?!"

"I can do more than that, honey." Eddie teased, winking at Steve as he crossed his arms over his neck. Steve rolled his eyes, feeling the ground solidify under him, and hastily kissed Eddie's cheek before catching up to the others and walking towards the castle. "Now, let's celebrate!"

The party cheered, hands pumping the sky, and Eddie tossed an arm around Steve's shoulders. Steve smiled, content with the path ahead of them and happy that he got to spend the rest of his days beside the vampiric bard, who he loved more than words could describe.

Eddie slammed the book shut and peered around the room, meeting eyes with Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Dustin as they concluded their session. "So, how did you all find that campaign?" Eddie's voice still sang with theatrics, and Steve stood up, gaining his boyfriend's attention.

"My ass is numb. How long have we been sat here for?" Steve pondered, rubbing his bottom as everyone began to pack up their stuff. Eddie stuffed his dividers and painted figurines (some of which Steve painted himself) into his beat-up backpack before joining Steve's side, swinging an arm around Steve's shoulders.

They swung around the table, Robin helping Nancy clear the stray cans that littered the area and headed to the exit of the Wheeler's basement. "Fuck me," Steve muttered, rubbing dust out of his eye with his knuckle.

Eddie snickered solemnly to himself before adding, "Gladly," Earning him an uproar of disgusted groans to sing in the basement. Steve hit Eddie's arm, laughing himself at the disgusting comment, and Eddie waggled his eyebrows comically before smooshing his boyfriend's lips with his own.

"Get out before I have to deal with you two's incessant flirting," Robin called, lobbing an empty soda can at the two.

"You're just jealous, Buckley," Eddie sneered mockingly, poking his tongue out at Robin, who returned with her childish face, and they ascended the stairs in a fit of hysterics. They waved goodbye to the group, plans to meet up next week already set, and Steve and Eddie exited the Wheeler house and into the Hawkins winter air.

Steve breathed in a lungful of the chilled air - stuck in Mike Wheeler's armpit of a basement for ten hours should be a crime - and Steve watched the star-spreckled sky above him. Hawkins at night no longer scared him like it used to, the shadows that plagued the corners of his mind easing into simple tricks of the light instead of Demogorgons ready to pounce. He still got nightmares now and then, but he had Eddie to coax him out of it, and when Eddie went through the same shit, Steve helped him out too. It was heart-warming to think that out of the shit from Vecna, Steve got an incredible metalhead boyfriend that tricked him into playing a nerd game.

Eddie stood beside him, a lit cigarette in his mouth, and Steve plucked it from him, breathing in the nicotine as he watched the cigarette cherry bloom in the ill light. "Ready to go home?" Eddie asked, swinging his car keys around on one finger as the other wrapped around Steve's waist. It was late at night, and the neighbours were fast asleep, so Steve and Eddie could be as affectionate as they wanted in public without getting thought, and a pang of sadness but freedom rang through his skull.

"Whenever you are, my love," Steve pressed a sloppy kiss to Eddie's cheek, feeling stubble twinge on his lips, and he walked towards Eddie's van, his boyfriend hot on his heels. They got in the car, seatbelts buckled and windows down all the way, and Steve looked over to see Eddie staring at him like a beautifully sculpted statue, and Steve's heart sang like a holy choir. "Let's go home."