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Taking care of people is a way of life for Steve Harrington. He knows that he’s changed the last three years, majorly, but one of the biggest changes is that he’s basically always taking care of a ragtag group of kids. Steve Harrington from three years ago would’ve never driven Dustin Henderson to school, or wrap bandages on Max Mayfield’s knee after she hurt herself skateboarding. Old Steve would hate that Steve Harrington of today was so open to caring for other people, that he’s allowed people into his life. Old Steve would not have waited with baited breath as he sat beside Eddie Munson’s bedside, gripping the man’s unconscious hand until he had finally woken up and was greeted with Steve’s tearful relief. There’s still parts of old him embedded in his heart though. You don’t completely alter yourself, rewrite your DNA, when you work on yourself. You always will still have those parts of you inside. Steve knows that he isn’t perfect, but he would be damned if he ever let any of his kids see him even a single tear roll down his cheek. Wires in his brain had yet to be tinkered with to allow Steve to feel like he could drop the act that he was told to put on by his father, and finally let anyone truly take care of him .
It isn’t that he thinks that any of them would be angry at him for being hurt, not like his dad, but that he doesn’t want to be another stressful part of their lives. His parents had always seen Steve as troublesome, and he didn’t blame them for it. Fights, parties, and mediocre grades truly seemed to fit the idea of troublesome in Steve’s opinion, and ever since he was little he had done his best to conceal anything else that would be considered bothersome. He knew some things were genuinely concerning, like the frequent migraines he developed from the numerous concussions he’d obtained over the years paired with the chronic pain and mild hearing loss. He’d never truly explained why he had begun to prefer the movies he and Dustin would watch on movie night to have subtitles, and simply shrugged it off as ‘he had trouble paying attention.’ His hearing wasn’t that bad, but people speaking in lower tones or whispers meant he could not hear them. Which is why he began scolding Max when he could tell she had muttered something or he would politely ask her to please speak louder if she was being more quiet, because he wanted to hear her , even if it was some sort of sarcastic remark.
He had medication for his chronic pain, and migraines, but he hadn’t told anyone about the conditions so he snuck the pills if he had a flare up when no one was looking, or he would leave early if he had forgotten the pills at home.
Currently, Steve is carefully sorting a box of movies alphabetically, and by genre. His pain today was not bad, very low, which felt like a miracle. Miracles seemed to be happening for the town of Hawkins the past few months as the cracks from the Upside Down seemed to have resealed after Max had been deemed officially “not brain-dead” which was a “medical miracle”. In reality, Eleven had been doing everything in her power to relinquish Max’s consciousness from Vecna’s hold. Steve didn’t fully understand the logistics, something about having to slowly pull her back, but once she woke up it seemed that because there was no official fourth sacrifice the Upside Down couldn’t sustain it’s hold on the actual Hawkins, and couldn’t keep the new gates open. Eddie had managed to survive his attack, and once he was free from his hospital he was permitted to go home. The government gave the Munsons a new trailer fully renovated. It was in the same spot as their old one, but it was definitely a much better, and larger trailer. They managed to clear the metal-head’s name by using Victor Creel as a scapegoat, explaining that Eddie had witness the man murder Chrissy and that’s why he had run. They also spinned the story to make it seem like Jason had an unreliable narrative of the situation with his fellow jock’s murder. Essentially they wrote the blonde’s story off as him suffering from paranoia and that he actually witnessed Victor Creel murder his friend but his brain shifted the blame onto Eddie because it would be easier to blame someone he already knew and hated. Eddie actually got a good reputation because they also conveyed that Eddie had saved Dustin during the “earthquake”. There were still a small few that believed Eddie to be the murderer, or at least still believed he was some sort of cult leader, but for the most part Eddie was in the clear.It had been months of chaos, the town having to slowly rebuild from the damage, and recover economically.
Luckily it meant he and Robin got their jobs back with ease. His brown hair hung slightly in his face as he hummed and placed the movies away on the shelf after having sorted them. He hadn’t talked much and he knew Robin had picked up on that fact because her eyes were practically picking him apart worse than the demobats did.
He sighed, “What Robin?”
Her messy blonde hair was unkempt as she had been nervously ruffling it for most of her shift. She had her elbows propped on the counter and was leaned forward, one hand resting on her cheek. He looked at her, and it was clear that she had said something but it had been too low for the brunette to properly hear, so he tilted his head in confusion.
“Steve! You’ve been practically silent the entire shift, what is going on with you? Are you sick? Did you have a date and it didn’t go well? You just don’t act like this Steve, and it’s throwing me off? If there’s some Upside Down stuff I don’t know about, I can handle it. I mean I can’t, like, fight like Nancy with guns or anything, but like I can figure stuff out! And, And!”
“Robin,” Steve interjected, looking away from his organized piles of movies, “I’m ok! I just have a headache. It’s no biggie, I promise.” It wasn’t a complete lie, he was feeling a small headache, he just hoped that it wouldn’t develop further than that. Although the other part was that he truly did not feel well, emotionally. He knew that not telling any of the rest of the group about his problems and constantly doing his best to solve their issues was taxing, but he couldn’t stop. Steve knew they relied on him, and he couldn’t risk letting them see him unstable as he felt he had to be the foundation for the rest of them. If he crumbled then they would leave him.
“Oh. Oh my gosh I’m so sorry I was rambling-”
“It’s fine, Robs. It seems like I should be asking if you’re ok.” He teased lightly as he pushed his hair from his face and stood up from the floor, moving to lean on the counter himself beside her.
“Honestly…? Not, not exactly good. I know that everyone somehow made it out of all that shit, and it’s been months since it all happened. Vecna, Eddie getting hurt, Max in the hospital, but I don’t know, I just-” She ended her own sentence early as she shifted uncomfortably, choosing now to cross her arms on the counter, leaning lower to the flat surface.
“Robs,” Steve said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder, “you literally fought a six foot flesh demon that kills people in their own minds using their trauma against them. You watched Nancy and I get choked within an inch of our lives while you also got strangled. Nothing about that just dissipates from your head after a few months. I still get jumpscared by dogs running at dog parks thinking it might be a demodog. Nothing is wrong with you for still getting scared or upset.” His thumb rubbed reassuring circles on her shoulder, a little embarrassed that he admitted that.
Tears brimmed her eyes, and suddenly she turned and hugged Steve tight. Steve returned the gesture, holding his best friend tight in his arms, and if he refused to mention the endless tiring ache in his body that was made more evident by her squeezing him? Then that’s his business.
After his shift, he had driven Dustin to Hellfire, not that it was an official club or anything anymore considering the negative connotation that the town had forced upon it. They now held it in the Byers’ house on Saturday nights. That was another thing that was different; The Byers had officially decided to stay in Hawkins. Steve didn’t mind getting to know Will more, the kid was quiet (not too great for Steve’s poor hearing) and reserved, but sweet. The brunette smiled as he refocused his attention to the road headed to his house. He knew what to expect of course, the vast emptiness of a cold house that one could never call home. There had never been any life breathed into the place, and it had always felt sterile. He parked his car in his driveway and locked his doors as he hopped out of the car.
He opened his front door, his heart already having a pang of loneliness at the empty dark rooms. The open kitchen with granite countertops, and his incredibly nice living room. The whole place looked like a setup in a furniture store, with no traces of someone actually living in the space. Steve shut his eyes tight, and closed the door behind him as he walked further into the room. He flicked on a small table light, which barely helped to lessen the swirling darkness in the large room. Steve hadn’t told anyone this, but recently his fridge was hardly filled with anything but alcohol. The fuzziness that the inebriation provided momentarily allowed Steve to focus on something other than how alone he felt, and ignore some of his physical pain.
He hadn’t meant to, but at night, he couldn’t get his brain to stop spiraling. His body moved in its established routine as of late towards the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Absolut Vodka. He didn’t bother himself to fetch a glass, he knew he would just keep drinking, and if it wasn’t the whole bottle it certainly would be most of it. He felt his hands gripping the neck of the bottle tightly as he sat down on his big empty sofa, in his big empty house, and decided to play himself a movie. He had chosen ‘The Breakfast Club’, but he didn’t really pay much attention.
About a week ago, he and Robin were warned by Keith that Family Video would be getting a remodel, meaning no work for a week. Luckily they were getting some compensation pay for not being able to work, but what it really meant was that a good chunk of his social time was being ripped out from under him. Even if customers sucked, Robin was there, and being out made Steve feel less alone in the world. It wasn’t like not working would mean that he would never see or hear from someone else again, but it meant more time inside his house. It meant having to hear his own thoughts, and noticing how tired and hurt he was and is, and being unable to drown that out by taking care of everyone else. It made the brunette feel useless if he wasn’t helping everyone else.
He puts the bottle to his mouth and tilts his head back letting the burn of the alcohol take him away from the thoughts that suffocated him. He lets that burn consume him until he finds himself blacking out, letting himself go under the alcohol’s influence. His eyes fluttered shut as he heard ‘Please don’t forget about me!’ come out of the TV.
His head was pounding, which was to be expected, and his limbs felt useless. He noticed that luckily his drunk self had managed to place the vodka on the side table rather than dozing off with it in his grip and spilling it everywhere. Steve groaned in pain as the morning, possibly afternoon light slipped between the curtains into his eyes. Everything hurt, and his stomach was definitely not happy with the fact the only thing he had eaten in the last 48 hours was half of a snickers bar he had shared with Robin after comforting her.
He was still in a polo and khaki pants as he rolled over from his side to being on his back, and pressed his palms hard into his eyes. He gritted his teeth and then swept his legs off the couch, standing quickly. This was obviously not his best idea, as his stomach churned harshly, causing the brunette to make a break for it to the kitchen sink.
…
“Well there goes that.” Steve’s hoarse voice spoke to himself as he looked at the bile and small chunks in the sink. He turned the sink on, letting the mess flow down into the garbage disposal.
His stomach grumbled once more, and Steve moved and opened the fridge door.
Ok.
Even Steve knew this was bad. His fridge had nothing but whiskey, beer, and more vodka. If he’s honest, he doesn’t even remember buying this shit. He pushed aside the alcohol, trying to peer into the recesses of the empty fridge. He spotted something small, and snatched it.
It was a bag of moldy carrots. Completely unhelpful. Steve sighed and tossed the produce into his trash, closing the fridge in defeat. He decided to get some water in a glass and try to at least get that part of nourishing himself done. He finally moved his eyes to look at the clock. It was 12:34 pm, and he really needed a shower. His head was throbbing, and he could feel the beginnings of a migraine tease him maliciously. He opened the top cabinet where he kept his medicines and poured himself out one Almotriptan pill, and swallowed it with a swig of some of his water.
He finished his water and walked up the stairs, the pain in his body being fully ignored as he willed himself up the stairs. He felt pathetic. He paused on the steps as he felt tears boil up inside him, and threaten him with spilling over. He clenched his jaw. His mind torturing him with self-deprecation for how weak he felt.
‘You are a disgrace to the Harrington name, boy. If you don’t get off the ground and stop crying I will give you so much more to cry about! Do you understand me?’
Steve felt his breath quickening as his father’s words started swimming to the forefront of his mind. He hated these things, he hadn’t found a name for it yet, but he would suddenly be unable to breathe and his body would freeze.
Without his permission, he let go of the banister and curled into himself on the steps. He gripped his hair tight.
“Stop.” he muttered to no one but himself.
He was 12, holding his best friend’s hand. Nathan Miller, a slightly shorter boy in his grade, who at this moment was looking at Steve while he cried.
Steve had scraped his knee while playing out front, and Nathan had helped him up and didn’t stop holding Steve’s hand once he had stood up. Big messy tears streamed down the young Harrington’s face, and he messily rubbed his eyes with his free hand.
‘S’ok Steve! Ok?’ Nathan squeezed his hand then hugged Steve softly.
He felt his breathing slowing down as Nathan held him, and entwined his and Nathan’s fingers as his sobs slowed into small sniffles.
‘Thanks.’ He said into Nathan’s shoulder.
‘Steve!’ His father’s voice calls out as he storms towards the pair of children.
Steve grips Nathan’s hand tighter despite pulling out of the hug and looking to his father who is stomping across the lawn. His father’s steps stop right in front of Steve, looming above his smaller son.
His fathers cruel eyes caught a glimpse of the two’s hands that were gripping each other so tightly they were welded together. Disgust was apparent on his father’s face as Steve shook like a leaf before him.
Steve broke eye contact, looking at Nathan as he dropped his friend’s hand. “Go.” Was all Steve said before his father grabbed his shoulder roughly and pushed him inside the house.
Steve stumbled at the doorway and fell forward, his dad slamming the door behind him.
‘What do you think you were doing?’ His father questioned, but it was clear there was no right answer.
‘He was just helping me, I got a scrape dad-’ Steve whimpered.
‘Sir. You call me Sir, Steve.’ His father picked him up by his collar and pushed the young boy to the wall by the door. ‘You were holding his hand, Steve. I will not raise a faggot. You aren’t to see that fairy friend of yours again, and you are certainly not going to be holding hands with other boys. You are a Harrington, act like it!’ His father dropped him, Steve’s feet hitting the floor,
‘Da-Sir, please, he’s my friend, we weren't doing anything!’Steve pleaded. His father said nothing in response as he reeled his hand back and back-handed Steve. The rings on his fingers split the skin on Steve’s cheek. Steve was given another slap across the face, and his father stopped.
‘Never disrespect me again. You will not see him. That’s final.’
Steve never saw Nathan again, but he did keep the hat the boy had accidentally left in his room.
It didn’t stop. It didn’t stop for 2 hours. His curled up position had not helped in the slightest with his aching bones. He had cried, despite how hard he had tried to bite back his tears. His body was sore from how tightly Steve was curled in on himself, and his lower back was killing him. Once he had managed to unwrap himself, he mentally chastised himself for how poorly he felt he handled the situation, part of his brain screaming at him for how weak he was, and the other screaming at him for how ungrateful he was.
He was now in his room, standing there with no shirt, and gently drying his hair with a towel. He hated how fragile he felt. Anytime he got… Whatever those things were, he felt like he was made of porcelain, like the wind could break him. It made him feel stupid because he thought of El, and Will, and how hard they’ve had it. He’s just a rich kid with troubled parents, and those kids had been made targets of a parallel dimension filled with monsters. Steve was a big boy, he can handle himself.
He sighed as he tossed the used towel into the laundry hamper. Steve grabbed a shirt that he must have worn at some point, off the floor, and pulled it on. He also pulled on some old sweatpants he had from highschool, and they hung low on his hips. He thought about laying in his bed only to have his thoughts interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs.
Steve huffed, and quickly moved out of his room, down the stairs, and over to the phone. His hand hesitated as he thought about if he should or shouldn’t answer it, and then decided that he needed to know who it was.
“Hello, Harrington Residence, Steve speaking.” He answered formally.
“Well, Well! No need to be so formal with me, your majesty.” Eddie teased.
“Munson,” Steve breathed out with a slight laugh, “how the hell did you get my number?”
“Let’s say a little birdy told me.” Robin. Steve could practically see Eddie waving his hand along to his own words with a smirk.
“Ok, well what do you need?” Steve would be lying if the idea of helping someone, anyone, would be akin to him winning the lottery right now. Anything that meant that Steve didn’t have to think about himself.
“Well, Stevie , yours truly may need somewhere to stay for the night. I would have crashed-” Eddie begins to explain himself, but Steve quickly cuts him off.
“You can stay at mine!” He places his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it nervously.
“...ok? You ok, Harrington? That excited to get me alone?” Eddie’s voice was as smooth as ever through the receiver, and Steve felt himself flush a bit at the joke.
“Fine, asshole. Sleep on the streets.” He joked back.
“No! Please, your highness! Take pity on the lowly peasant.” Eddie had pressed his hand to his chest while doing his fake plea.
“Ok, you have my mercy. Do you need me to pick you up?” Steve smiles softly despite knowing the boy can’t see him.
“Nah, I got it big boy. See you soon!” Eddie hangs up the line before Steve can respond.
Steve sets the phone down on the receiver, and breathes a bit shakily. He knows that he’s maybe using helping Eddie out as an escape from his own problems, but as a Harrington he was extraordinarily good at putting on a facade of being ok.
Steve clapped his hands together, as if to wake himself, and began cleaning up. He picked up the vodka bottle from the side table, and stored it back in the fridge, cringing slightly as he realized that his fridge was still empty (aside from the alcohol), and he definitely did not have enough time to get groceries. He huffed, and shut the door and settled on ordering pizza later if Eddie was hungry.
After tidying up, most of which was just straightening things, and getting the guest room ready, he went to sit on the couch. However, right as he was about to sit, the doorbell rang. A small smile automatically made its way to his face as he thought about Eddie, and his kind brown eyes. Although it had only been a brief amount of time (he really didn’t need to clean much considering the house was never used by anyone but him), maybe 10 minutes tops. Some confusion ran through the brunette, but tried to brush it off as maybe Eddie had called from somewhere closer by. Steve got up, feeling the excitement bubbling up. He opened the door and his smile fell from his face quickly. His father and mother stood in front of him, and his jaw was slack at the sight.
“Are you going to stare like an idiot all night or let us in, boy?” His father questioned with the stern look that never seemed to leave his face.
“Y-yes, sorry.” Steve stepped aside and let his parents into the living room.
“You look like a mess, change into something decent. You should have more respect for yourself. I know you’re lazy, but at least try to look like you belong in this family.” His father critiqued as he moved past his son, heading towards the stairs.
“We’re only here to grab some things, and then we’ll be headed out again, ok?” His mother said softly, placing an unwelcome hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“Ok.” Steve said as he shoved his emotions down.
His father turned from his position only a few steps up the stairs, “That’s another thing, work on your manners. Refer to your mother as such, and I as your father when you speak boy. Truly, we raised you better. Have respect.” He sneered.
“Yes father. Sorry mother.” Steve replied to the both of them, his shoulders incredibly tense. He felt panic swirling at the thought that Eddie could show up while his parents were home, and the thought that Eddie could be seen by them. Steve was fine if his parents took out his anger on him, but the thought of his father yelling at Eddie, potentially hurting Eddie, scared Steve to death. He remained unmoving as his mother removed her hand and went upstairs to grab whatever random items they apparently needed before they left for however long again.
Despite his parents being out of sight, Steve still felt pounding anxiety wracking his form. He did move despite this, and went upstairs to change into “something more appropriate” for his father. He checked the time, and found with some refreshing news that it would take Eddie at least another 15 minutes to get to his house if Eddie had come from his trailer.
Steve’s hands shook as he pulled on a polo, khakis, and tamed his hair. He plastered that Harrington smile on his face, and left his room. Changing had taken practically no time at all, and luckily it seems his parents were wrapping up grabbing whatever they had needed. He carefully walked down the stairs, knowing he would be seeing them off momentarily, and fidgeted with his hands. The minutes moved slowly, and Steve kept peeking at the clock to check how many estimated minutes he had before Eddie would arrive. He still had 7 minutes left by the time his mother and father both came down the steps. His father’s eyes pierced through him as his clothing choice was now reevaluated.
“Better.” His father huffed, carrying a small briefcase in one hand, and his mother carrying a small duffel bag. The taller man came over to Steve, as his mother followed her husband. She moved past her son however and rested her hand on the doorknob. Her eyes had anxiety entwined with the darkness of her pupils as she stared at Steve’s father. The older man looked down at Steve’s eyes, and Steve stared back, afraid to break eye contact lest he be deemed disrespectful.
“Steve.”
“Yes father?”
“I saw a poster for a band in your room, Metallica, I believe?”
Fuck. Eddie gave that to him after Steve admitted he liked some of the songs Eddie had shown him.
“ I- It was just a gift, sir-”
Slap.
“You didn’t have permission to speak. Take that down, it’s disgusting. Satanic music is not permitted in this home, and you’ll do good to remember that. Understood?” His father’s voice, although not loud, was terrifyingly firm. It felt like Steve was once again a child who shivered under his father’s gaze. His eyes now looked towards the kitchen, his face stung, and the rings his father wore had once again, as they had many times, split skin. It was small, just a scratch on his cheek, but something about the injury being done by his father made it hurt more. Steve’s ears rang and he feared that his medicine might not fend off the migraine if this kept up.
“Understood, sir.” His voice was uncharacteristically meek.
“I also heard some rumors you were seen with Eddie Munson, I believe?” His father’s voice was menacing, and Steve felt like he could pass out from how stressful this all felt.
“I- He was cleared of charges Sir.” Steve felt like if he even breathed wrong he would be paying a price. He made sure to look back at his father, and he kept his tears shoved deep inside him.
“Put out your wrist.” His father said and set down the case in his hand.
“Richard, please-” His mother pleaded.
“Quiet.” His father demanded, and quickly went to the kitchen and grabbed a long wooden spoon, and returned to his spot in front of his son. Steve held his wrist out, saying nothing as his father cracked the wooden utensil on the young man’s wrist. Red immediately spread across the skin, and his father gave several hard strikes. The skin burned, and pulsed, and would most certainly bruise.
Steve wanted to cry, but he knew it wouldn’t help his case, so he didn’t. He kept himself still, and his father tossed the wooden spoon onto the couch in the living room. With the newer injuries it felt like Steve’s already present chronic pain worsened.
“You continue to disappoint me. I don’t want you around that freak anymore. You’ve besmirched this family name enough.”
His father picked the briefcase up as he turned and moved past Steve and Steve’s mother, opening the door. Steve caught his mother’s eyes with his, and she had a small frown. Her eyes were misty as she looked at him, and Steve broke eye contact as he turned away to walk towards the kitchen.
He heard the door close behind him, and knew they were gone. Steve checks the time. 2 minutes till Eddie would most likely be here. His ears perk at the sound of his father’s car turning on and leaving. Steve turns on the kitchen sink and uses the water to gently rinse his damaged cheek. He knows that the ring might potentially bruise, but there wasn’t much to be done in regards to it. He shook his head and pulled himself together with a deep breath. The last thing he was going to do was let his personal life affect Eddie. To Steve, the last thing he would want is for anyone to have to deal with his shit, and Eddie clearly needed someone to help him right now.
The doorbell rings, and this time it’s actually the welcomed person Steve had hoped for. He pulled the door open, and smiled before lowering his head to try and keep his injured cheek turned away from his friend’s sight.
“Well hello there my liege.” Eddie teased as he stepped into the house. “Still dressed up on your day off Harrington? You really should relax for once in your life, Stevie.” He reached to pat Steve’s shoulder, and Steve flinched as his body and mind were still in panic mode from his parents. Eddie’s face immediately scrunches up in concern.
Before Eddie can comment on the reaction, Steve smiles and says, “Sometimes a guy just wants to look good, is that such a crime?” The joke came out with a half-hearted chuckle, and Eddie let out an exhale of breath from his nose.
“I guess so, Harrington. Anyways, sorry I asked out of nowhere to stay here.” Eddie moved over and sat down on the couch and promptly propped his feet on the coffee table.
“It’s ok, but are you ok?” Steve came and sat beside the other boy, doing his best to keep his face turned in a way that Eddie wouldn’t see still, but he failed quickly.
“Yeah I just- Well- Woah Harrington, what’s up with your face?” Eddie said, now getting a proper look at the other man beside him.
“Wow, I let you into my house and now you insult my looks? Not a polite house guest are you?” He attempted to joke to get the older man to drop it.
Eddie gave Steve a look that automatically let the latter know that this wasn’t going to be dropped. “Ok, well to answer your question, I’m ok. I just… get nervous being home sometimes ever since the Chrissy thing. I just didn’t want to be home. More importantly, are you gonna tell me why you have a bruise on your face?” Brown eyes bore into Steve, and he felt like he was being put under a microscope and examined.
He let out a sigh, “It’s nothing Eddie, I’m fine.” He looked away from Eddie and placed his gaze on the carpet underneath his feet. “I just got into a fight…”
“With who?” Eddie said quietly
“What?” Steve looked back at the other boy, furrowing his brow.
“With who, Stevie?” Eddie pressed as he placed a hand onto Steve’s forearm, saying the words a bit louder.
Steve shut his eyes hard, “Do we have to do this?”
“Big boy, if it was one of those jock assholes-” Eddie started, but Steve stood up suddenly, shaking the other’s hand off his arm.
“It wasn’t. Look, let me just- I’ll show you where the guest room is, ok?” Steve sounded exhausted, and Eddie felt like he was walking on eggshells.
“Ok.” Eddie dropped the topic.
Steve relaxed his shoulders a slight amount, and began to lead Eddie upstairs. Eddie noticed how barren the walls were, lacking family photos, or any sign of the Harrington’s even having a child. He studied the way that Steve was keeping his whole being tense and curled in on himself. The way that Steve was acting reminded Eddie of a scared dog, the kind you see locked in a cage all day, the ones that shuffle back into corners at the sight of a hand reaching out to them. Everything felt sickeningly fragile, and he felt that if he were to speak that he might shatter whatever semblance of normalcy that Steve seemed to be clinging to. He stopped as Steve did right outside one of the doors.
Steve faced the other once again and gestured weakly to the door, “There you are. Shower is attached, and I can grab you some clothes from my room.” That Harrington facade turned on once again.
“Thanks… I’m- I’m sorry Harrington.” Eddie grimaced as he tried to alleviate some of the tension.
“It’s not your fault, you just got worried, but I can handle myself. Thanks though.” He gave a small smile.
Eddie didn’t respond with anything other than a nod as he opened the door to the guest room and shut it behind him. He couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger on the words ‘I can handle myself.’ He wondered if Harrington had ever let anyone take care of him for once. He stepped into the shower and let the water wash over him. Eddie knew that he would have to get Steve to talk to him somehow, and he used his time in the shower to devise a plan, settling on the idea that he would give Steve some time to wind down first.
Once he was finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist, and stepped back into the bedroom. Steve knocked on the door, and Eddie called out “Come in!”
Steve opened the door, holding sweatpants and a T-shirt, and felt his breath hitch at the sight of Eddie. His skin was still dewy from the shower and his hair draped over his shoulders contrasting nicely with his pale skin. Steve noticed the tattoo on the older boy’s chest, and his eyes trailed further down to see the happy trail. Steve felt a flush working its way up his neck at the sight and he swallowed thickly.
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” Eddie teased, an eyebrow raised in curiosity at Steve’s obvious reaction.
“Whatever, I got your clothes.” Steve held out the folded items, and Eddie took them. His fingers brushed over Steve’s and the latter shivered in response to the contact. Eddie smirked as Steve still stood there.
“Well, pretty boy, I’m gonna change so-”
“Right! Sorry, sorry.” Steve’s face warmed more as he left the room quickly, and took a deep breath as he shut the door behind him. He lightly scolded himself mentally for the awkward moment, and decided to head downstairs. He figured he would at least order some pizza for the both of them, so he did just that (pepperoni, half with jalapenos). He felt guilty for snapping slightly at the other boy but the truth was that he just didn’t want Eddie to find out that Steve was weak . Steve didn’t want to risk having Eddie find out that Steve was a disgrace, and the family disappointment. If Eddie knew he was weak he would leave, and Steve couldn’t handle that thought. He had grown weirdly attached to the nerdy DM ever since they had both survived Vecna. Ever since Steve waited by Munson’s bedside nearly everyday to watch him recover he couldn’t help but feel like he was tied to the other with the thin wires of fate. They adorned matching scars on their torsos, and Steve couldn’t help but fall into an odd comfortable flow with the free spirited musician. They’d taken to often hanging out with one another, much to Dustin’s shock, and Wayne had slowly accepted Steve. He couldn’t blame the older man’s hesitance at first Somedays Steve would wake up and feel like he needed Eddie like a man dying of thirst, like a man begging for god, and it made Steve so crushingly nervous.
Eddie came down the stairs wearing the sweats and tshirt provided, and found Steve looking through movies. “Hey, Harrington.” He said not quite loud enough for Steve’s damaged hearing to pick up. Noticing that Steve didn’t respond, Eddie tried again, repeating the phrase at the same level. He was still met with no response. He decided to test again with something else.
“Got anything good?” He asked softly, but noticed the boy didn’t even show any signs that he heard him. Eddie pouted, and got closer, sitting down on the floor next to the golden-hearted man. His suspicion grew.
“Got anything good?” Eddie repeated, a little louder and now closer.
Steve looked up to the side to see Eddie, “Yeah! Sorry I must’ve not noticed you coming down.”
“Anything with subtitles?” Eddie asked, raising a brow. Eddie knew that Steve should’ve heard him say the other sentences, should’ve heard his soft footsteps in the quiet home, and he was pushing but…
“Oh yeah, almost everything I have has ‘em. Why?” Steve titled his head, and Eddie couldn’t help but think that Steve looked somewhat like a puppy.
“No real reason. What do you wanna watch?” Eddie was still being careful, so he planned to wait to ask about the boy's hearing.
“Wanna watch Star Wars with the little teddy bears?” Steve’s small smile lit up the room, and Eddie felt his heart warm at the sight.
“Sure Stevie, but you got anything to eat? I’m starving.” He said in a lighthearted tone.
“I ordered pizza, half has jalapenos just like you like.” Steve grabbed Return of The Jedi and put it in the VCR before standing and brushing off his khakis.
Eddie stood too and walked over to the kitchen, “Awh Stevie, you didn’t have to get jalapenos just for little ol’ me~”
Steve laughed as he watched the other man place a hand over his heart dramatically. Eddie had wandered near the fridge and reached the handle, “Sorry, Big Boy. You cool if I grab something to drink?” He asked the question, but was already expecting a yes so he pulled open the fridge.
Steve stilled, “Wait Eds-”
Eddie’s eyes rested on the litany of alcohol and the rather barren fridge. He closed the door, and Steve bit his lip hard.
“Stevie…” Eddie turned and looked at the preppy boy standing rigid in the pristine living space. “Somethings going on with you.”
The TV flashed the classic green pirating warning, and the green illuminated Steve’s lower right side like a sickly aura that oddly fit how he felt. ”Eddie- I-” He attempted to excuse himself.
“No, baby, not getting out of this one.” Eddie walked over to Steve and, throwing the other brunette for a loop, pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re allowed to hurt.” Eddie made sure to keep his voice at a volume he was sure the other would hear.
Steve has no idea why that’s what breaks him, but he feels the tears that he’d been burying tear themselves out of his eyes and they feel like flames as they pour down his cheeks. Eddie’s hands are gentle but firm as they squeeze him. One of the ringed hands cards through his hair. Steve lets Eddie gently settle them both on the couch. Eddie reluctantly pulls away from the hug to look at Steve. Although he moves the hand that was running through Steve’s soft hair to rest on his left cheek, careful to not put pressure on the bruise forming there.
“Steve, I want you to be honest with me, ok? I won’t be mad at you, or leave.” Eddie’s dark eyes were earnest and filled with love reminiscent of a painter cherishing his muse.
“You won’t leave? You- You’re not mad that I’m- Y’know…” His voice was a wobbling ship in the sea of his own fear.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m weak . ” Steve looked down at his lap.
Eddie felt anger bubbling in him, not at Steve, but at the notion that anyone had ever convinced Steve that he was anything less than a hero. Steve was so strong in Eddie’s eyes, and watching the former “King of Hawkins High” feel guilty for simply showing an emotion other than the happy babysitter was frustrating.
“Says who? You saved my life, you do more than enough to prove you’re the strongest person I know.” Eddie said firmly.
“I- My dad.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s confiding in the other man, but his tongue is moving faster than his insecurities can. “He- I’m the disappointment, Eds. They were here right before you got here.”
Eddie lowers his hand from Steve’s cheek and goes to speak, but is cut off by the doorbell ringing.
“I got it Stevie, stay on the couch, ok?” His voice was soft but loud enough, and gentle enough to reassure the other.
Steve fiddled with his hands as he looked over at the screen to see Ewoks running amuck. The sight made him smile but his body still felt wrecked with emotions. Eddie came back from the door and set the pizza box on the coffee table, and sat beside Steve. This time though, he chose to not sit facing the other and pulled Steve close to him from the side. The position made it so Steve was leaning on Eddie’s shoulder, and his body was curled inward, like he was laying on the curly haired guitarist. He felt his face heat up at the closeness to Eddie, but didn’t protest. Eddie once again put his hand in Steve’s hair, and the slow pets felt like they were easing the latter’s mind.
“Did your dad… Is your cheek like that because of him?” Eddie was careful, and he kept the anger inside him that threatened to spill over at the thought of someone hurting Steve.
“Yeah. M’wrist too.” Steve sniffled.
Eddie rolled his lips in a tight line, knowing that blowing up about how much of a dick Steve’s father is would be far from helpful. “What’d he do to your wrist, Sweetheart?”
Steve didn’t respond, but Eddie caught Steve’s glance over to the wooden spoon on the other part of the sofa.
Eddie was officially going to murder Steve’s father.
Steve could tell that Eddie had pieced it together. “It’s ok, it’s not that bad. Could’ve been worse.”
Eddie was going to set the world on fire for allowing Steve Harrington to be ok with this.
“ It’s not ok.” Eddie was rigid. “That- Stevie, he shouldn’t be laying a hand on you. On top of that, you shouldn’t constantly be dealing with shit alone. Have you told anyone about him doing that shit?”
Steve shook his head.
“Ok, I need you to promise to tell me the truth baby, can you do that for me?”
Steve nodded, and Eddie adjusted Steve, carefully guiding him up to look at Eddie.
“What is going on with you? You constantly look tired, there’s nothing in your fridge but alcohol, and how long have you been hard of hearing?”
“Ok… Well that’s a lot.” Steve felt anxious at the thought of unloading everything.
“I promise I want to know. I just want to be here for you, ok?” Eddie kept his hands on Steve, one holding the other’s hand, and the other resting on his forearm. The touch helped keep Steve grounded, and helped him feel calm enough to process how to confess everything.
“Well you know how I’ve gotten like a fuck ton of concusions?” Eddie nodded as Steve premised the rest of his rant. “So apparently getting those over and over again can pretty seriously fuck you up. I got diagnosed with chronic pain and migraines sometime after the Starcourt Mall ordeal, and not too long after I got told I had hearing loss. They told me I ruptured an eardrum in my left ear, and I didn’t know. It was from that time Byers clocked me, rightfully, for being a douche.” Steve took a second to breathe in, struggling to feel ok confessing his problems to anything/anyone other than his ceiling in the midnight hours.
“Shit.” Eddie blinked at the other.
“The alcohol is just- I know that’s bad but I just picked it back up again recently to feel… feel like I could get away from my own head. It sometimes helps me ignore the actual physical pain. I’m sorry.” He finished sadly.
“Hey, it’s ok. I mean, not the alcohol to cope thing, but like, I get it. You’re not bad for wanting to get out of your head. Who else knows about all this? Y’know like the chronic pain, and everything. I’m assuming Buckley, Nancy and-”
“No one. You- I’ve only told you.”
“Wh- Steve you’re telling me that you’ve been dealing with hearing loss and everything for however long , and nobody fucking knew?” Eddie felt like he could combust with how frustrated he was with the rest of the group for never noticing. It wasn’t like the hearing thing was that hard to piece together- Eddie had literally picked it up in one night. He usually wasn’t quiet so he hadn’t had a reason to suspect before now, but the first moment Eddie had lowered his voice he caught on. How could anyone not pick up on how Steve looked like he was caving in on himself?
“I didn’t want anyone to worry. I handled it, I have medicines and everything-” Steve argued.
“ Stevie I love you to death, but for the love of God never hide anything like this again or I’ll have to kidnap you until you understand how precious you are to me, and everyone.” Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand tightly with his, and the metal-head could feel his own eyes threatening to spill tears.
Steve stared back wide eyed, blinking uselessly at the other. His face was bright red as he stared at Eddie as his mind processed the confession that he was sure was a slip up on the other man’s part.
“You love me?” His brown eyes were still misty from having sobbed just moments ago.
“Shit-” Eddie’s hands retracted and let go of Steve. “I’m sorry, Harrington I-”
Steve grabbed Eddie by the shoulders before the other could move further away, and surged forward pressing his lips on the other man’s quickly. Eddie kept his eyes open for a moment in shock before melting into the kiss, and blended himself into the movement of the other. It was a soft yet passionate kiss, and despite its brevity it conveyed the words that Steve had yet to say.
The polo clad boy pulled back breathlessly, ”I do too- I love you too.”
Eddie smiled before raising a hand up and began chuckling at the situation.
“What?” Steve felt his heart pounding nervously.
“Just- I don’t know. I guess this wasn’t how I expected to have this go down.” He smiled kindly, and Steve felt like his worries were easing.
“Oh.”
“Not a bad thing, Stevie.” He reached his hand up and ruffled Steve’s hair.
“Hey!” Steve batted at the hand. “Ok, so like, does this mean we can be boyfriends, or?”
“Yeah it means we can be boyfriends, dork. Now come here.” Eddie shifted back on the couch enough to lay down with his back propped up. He made grabby hands, and Steve stared at the other man with confusion. Eddie plopped his hands down, “I’m trying to cuddle my new boyfriend because he needs to be taken care of by someone else for once. So get over here, grab a slice of pizza, and let me hold you.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Steve couldn’t help the wide, loving smile that came to his face as he did just that. He ended up curled into Eddie as they watched the rest of Return of the Jedi, and pizza crumbs covered both of their chests as they both fell into a peaceful sleep, and for once, Steve felt like he was going to be ok.
Although explaining all this to Robin would be something else.