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Sometime later, Steve is awakened by Eddie mumbling in his sleep. Is he saying a name? He leans closer to hear and realizes Eddie isn’t saying anything at all; he’s whimpering. His eyebrows are pinched together, and the lines on his face are creased in distress.
“Eddie,” Steve murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, “Eddie, dude.” He shakes him lightly, but the guitarist only shakes his head, mumbles again, and rolls onto his side facing Steve. “Hey, Eds, you’re okay.” No amount of soothing words, however, could alleviate Eddie of his misery. Steve does the only thing he can think of to calm the boy without waking him up; he pulls Eddie closer and lays him to where his head is on Steve’s shoulder.
Eddie immediately curls into him, gripping Steve’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Steve throws one arm over the other boy’s shoulders and subconsciously cards a hand through his thick, curly locks. Already slipping into unconsciousness, he perks back up a bit when he hears Eddie mumble, “Gone,” and “No.”
“No one’s gone,” Steve whispers. “Everyone’s fine, yeah? Just try to relax.” Although he has no idea if his words get through, Eddie’s body language seems to soften, and he melts impossibly more into Steve’s side.
The younger boy smiles faintly to himself at the closeness. It was nice holding someone else’s weight, feeling needed, their warmth meeting his. He never had that with his family- they weren’t exactly the type to give physical reassurance, although he would’ve welcomed it -and Steve is glad he can provide that for somebody else. He drifts off, still running fingers through Eddie’s hair.
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Eddie observes himself waking up, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He feels safe and protected. Warm. Like how he used to feel when his grandma would wrap him up in a big hug when he was little. It was as if nothing in the world could hurt him; those arms shielded him from anything dangerous.
But I’m not with my grandma, Eddie realizes with a start, so whose arms are wrapped around me right now?
He cautiously opens his eyes to a soft, gray t-shirt, and his gaze travels upwards to the peaceful expression of Steve Harrington. Please don’t tell me I’m cuddling right now. I don’t cuddle; I’m not a cuddler.
Eddie wants desperately to move away- Steve waking up while in this position is something he definitely doesn’t want to deal with -but he hasn’t felt so secure and protected in… years. He closes his eyes and allows just a few more minutes of serenity before reluctantly and carefully removing himself from Steve’s side. “Sorry, Stevie,” Eddie whispers fondly, brushing a lock of hair off Steve’s forehead, “I gotta split.”
He gathers his things and slips into the front yard, quiet as when he first came in.
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Steve wakes up to an empty bed that morning, the morning after, and the morning after. He wants to call, go to Eddie’s trailer, something to make sure he’s okay, but he doesn’t want to come across as pushy. But when Max needs a ride home from school, Steve finds it the perfect opportunity to check in on Eddie. Once he makes sure she’s okay by herself, he walks to Eddie’s place.
After knocking, the door opens to Eddie. Wearing a cropped Hellfire shirt. Steve would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of the most attractive things he’s ever seen. Light color tints the younger’s face. “Oh, uh, hey, man. Can I come in?” Eddie nods and steps aside. “Thanks.” Entering the trailer, Steve is hit by the memories of when he was here last, and a shiver runs through him.
“Yeah, I know. It was hard being here at first, too.” Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. “So, what’s up?”
“I was dropping Red off at her place and figured I’d check in since I haven’t seen you for a bit.”
Eddie over-animates his expression and bats his eyelashes. “Were you worried about me, big boy? I’m so flattered.”
Steve punches the dungeon master lightly on the arm and rolls his eyes. “Cut it out, Munson. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I won’t make that mistake again.” He mumbles.
“I’m fine, Stevie. I happen to be sleeping just fine without you, that’s all.”
“Really.” Steve raises his eyebrows incredulously. “Is that why the bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries? Or why you’re so jittery? Or why this place is littered with empty energy drinks? I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”
Eddie looks down, not responding.
“Why haven’t you been coming to me if you’re still having problems? Have I done something?” He lowers his voice, hoping the older boy will open up to him. “If you want to try to figure this out by yourself, I get it, but you know I’m… I’m here for you. We’re- we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.” He finally meets Steve’s worried gaze. “Don’t bother blaming a single hair on your pretty little head, Harrington. This one’s all on me.” Eddie fights off his incoming sheepishness. “I, uh, I ran. Like I always do. From… from you.”
“Why? What happened?”
The sheepishness winning, Eddie rubs the back of his neck. “When I woke up, you were still sleeping, and we were… we-”
“Oh!” Then, softer, “Oh. That’s what this is about?” Eddie nods, eyes cast down again.
“You must have been having another nightmare; you were visibly upset. I didn’t want to wake you, so I did the only thing I could think of to help. It seemed to calm you down. Shit, man, I was half asleep myself; I barely remember it.” He shakes his head and continues, “I’m sorry if it made you feel awkward. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Eddie couldn’t tell him that he had enjoyed being held- someone else’s arms wrapped around him instead of his own. He’d enjoyed not having to hold himself up, melting into someone else. He had no idea Steve was thinking almost the same things, only switched.
“No, no, it’s okay. Um, thank you for helping me. I appreciate it. I just didn’t want to make things uncomfortable; by staying, I mean.” A semi-awkward silence fills the room, broken by Steve a moment later.
“I like your shirt,” He says softly. “It’s cool. You cut it yourself?”
“Yeah, I did. I, uh, I don’t wear it out of the house, though.”
“Why?” Steve asks, taken aback. “It’s a sick way to wear a shirt.”
Eddie shrugs. “A guy wears a shirt like this in a quiet town like Hawkins; people talk. And they love to talk, trust me. Also, more recently, these.” He motions to the scars on his abdomen. “I don’t exactly plan on showing these off anytime soon.”
“Yeah, I get that. But hey, you should also be proud of them. They’re a… reminder, I guess, of your bravery.”
“Thanks, man. You’ve got some reminders yourself.” Eddie’s mouth forms a half-smirk.
Lifting his shirt a bit and looking down, Steve replies, “Yeah, I sure do. Not as bad as yours, though.” He pulls his shirt back down and glances away guiltily.
“Hey, dude, don’t do that. Don’t feel bad for not having a worse injury. You were pretty brave yourself.” Eddie does his best to give a reassuring smile.
Steve smiles back in appreciation but doesn’t say anything else until he whispers, “Do they still hurt?”
It’s Eddie’s turn to glance down at his abdomen. “Not as much as they did. Some are still tender. The doc said most of them won't shrink, only fade. Pretty metal, if you ask me.” Eddie tries to smirk again, but even he can tell it’s wobbly. “It’s more like a… presence, I guess. They hurt, but not physically.”
Steve steps closer and reaches out a hand. “...Can I…?” Silent affirmation comes in the form of a nod, and Steve steps closer still. He absent-mindedly wraps his hand around Eddie’s waist and uses his thumb to lightly trace one of the less tender scars. “I hate that you have to live with these.” He mumbles, almost to himself.
“Weren’t you the one who said they were reminders of my heroic acts of bravery?” Eddie means it to come out as sarcastic, but his voice is unwittingly gentle.
“I know, but they’re also reminders of… worse things. Terrifying things.” Steve answers, still in a whisper. Only now looking up, he realizes just how close they’re standing. His face is mere inches away from Eddie’s, their noses almost touching.
The guitarist catches his gaze and holds it, and Steve finds himself unable to look away. Eddie’s the one who breaks eye contact first a few moments later and steps back, his heart pounding harder than he’s willing to admit.
Steve’s hand drops dejectedly from the other boy’s hip, and he clears his throat. “Erm, yeah, so. You know where the key is. You’re welcome any time. And say hi to Wayne for me.” Without another word, he grabs his keys and jets out the door.