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They’d take turns to make rounds in the forest at night. Not every night and never, ever alone; buddy system every time. Just check how things are going. No weird red cracks, no strange noises. Nothing wrong with doing something small to calm the rising anxiety every time a light fixture failed. Nice, quiet, friendly nighttime walk.
Eddie and Robin walked the usual path, sharing a beer on the way. It was nice; a cool spring night, no noise except the crickets. He heard Robin sigh. She looked like she was steeling herself for something, but nothing could have prepared him for the words that left her mouth.
“Fucking sucks to fall for someone straight, right?” She looked straight ahead, like she was just commenting on the weather.
“Wh- What?”
“I mean like. Y’know. Steve. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Eddie saw her look at him with the corner of her eye, an expression of alertness suddenly appearing on her face. She stomped on through the weeds, like she was having some common conversation.
“Look at him, how?” He stopped in his tracks, frowning at her in confusion. “Rob, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Uh, I mean- Listen, I just y’know, got the vibes that you like, Liked him, with a Capital L, and you don’t have to worry about hiding it because I’m, I’m like, I like girls I guess, and I thought you liked boys and that’s something we could y’know, have in common? And I’m super fucking sorry and I thought you were and I’m sorry for assuming and please be cool about it and-”
“Rob.”
“A-and please you’re my friend right please don’t tell anyone like I’m sorry I’m never bringing this up again and I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and-”
“Rob!” He touched her upper arm, gently. “Dude. Don’t worry about it, it’s- it’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable or mad. Secret safe with me and all. Pinky promise.” He even extended his pinky finger, a small kind smile on his face.
She gulped and returned the motion, face steadily flushing like a beet. His smile got a bit bigger, and pulled her arm to get her to walk - her curfew was still 11pm sharp, and he didn’t want Robin to get in trouble with her parents.
“I just- caught me off guard. You thought I was. I was in love with Steve?”
“I mean. You’ve been flirting with him pretty hard and, uh, I suppose I looked too much into that?” Robin made a pained expression, lifting her eyebrows as high as they could go.
“No, yeah, I get it. I suppose there aren’t many,” he paused for a second, took a sip of the beer and offered it to her. “uh, gay people around here and feeling lonely about something is- fuckin’ blows.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Awkwardness hung heavy in the air for a few seconds, dissolving into a strange silence. They could almost hear each other think; little mice running around their heads a mile a minute.
“What do you mean, ‘the way I look at him’, though?” Eddie looked curious and sincere, and Robin couldn’t stop a smile from escaping her lips. He always did look so painfully honest.
“Oh, I- hm. Like, you have this sort of expression. Like at first I thought ‘oh, he’s trying to figure out if he’s as cool as Dustin says he is’ but then you started doing your whole baby cow eyes thing-”
“My what?” She could hear the annoying grin in his voice.
“Oh, don't act like you don’t know you have big beautiful brown eyes, slut.” They laughed at each other, crows feet crinkling. “And I dunno. I do the same with… Y’know, the girl I like. So there.”
“Huh.” He stayed silent for a few seconds, and Robin waited patiently. “I mean, I was kinda, taking his measure at first. Now… I guess I’m a bit jealous of him? He can be normal or like, pretend to be normal. He’s rich and had a good time when he was a teen and can get a job wherever they require a highschool diploma.”
Eddie kicked a rock, the little thing flying a few feet ahead, getting lost between the weeds.
“White picket fence, blonde wife, the works. People like me- like us, I guess. Little bit weird. Little bit queer. We don’t really get that. And after everything’s that happened I’m definitely-” He kicked another rock, this time more forcefully. “-not getting that.”
Wasn’t news to Robin. Noone was willing to hire Eddie in Hawkins; not after the allegations. Even if they had been dropped. He was running from auto shop to auto shop showing his talents as a mechanic; nothing had stuck so far. Wayne, on his part, had been trying to sweet talk his way into getting his nephew a place at the factory even if just as a janitor. It’d take a while, he said. But he was gonna get that job one way or the other.
Eddie would barely show his face in the town. Too many stares and whispers. Both good and bad: rumors ran about his culpability, his sexuality, his scars – gotten while fighting off Jason Carver, the basketball player who had been trying to kill that little redhead girl, don’t you know, the one that lived in the trailer in front of Mr. Munson, Jason lost his mind after he talked to Creel, just terrible, he seemed like such a good boy.
Eddie, on his part, thought Jason was an insane asshole; but still got sick to the stomach every time he had to lie about that night. Like he was disturbing the guy’s memories, never letting him rest in peace. But the government lady had been very clear: You keep your trap shut about this and say the lines we feed you when you’re on trial. Or the little house we got your uncle is gonna evaporate.
So he kept his mouth shut, and kept trying to find a job.
“I get it, Eds. And I’m sorry. For-” Robin made a vague motion with her hands, like the words were too big for only her speech to express. “assuming. And everything.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. And I mean, you’re cool so, thinking I’m like you means you think I’m cool.”
Robin barked a laugh. She started to jog down the path, the lights of the town getting closer and the vague shape of their bikes appearing through the trees.
“In your absolute dreams, buddy!”
Eddie laughed and ran after her.
“Buckley, come on! Just one time say I’m cool!”
---
He laid in his bed that night, running the conversation over and over again in his head. At the beginning he thought it was just a bit sad that Robin was so alone that she’d think that - Eddie hadn’t lied there; he knew exactly how certain kinds of loneliness felt, and how one would grab onto anything to make it go away. But his mind chugged along while sleep eluded him. Did he look at Steve in a different way?
He was jealous, that much he knew. He was jealous of how easy everything came to him. Of how girls would jump to him in droves, dry spell notwithstanding. He was jealous of his huge house, the pool, the full fridge, of how he didn’t need to talk to any weird guys to buy weed (then, Eddie thought, I am the weird guy he buys weed from).
He would take it to his grave, but he was jealous of how naturally sports-oriented Steve was. How he could get to be just one of the guys, hanging around at the gym, getting all eyes on him and just being chill about it. He was jealous of how he didn't look like he had any problems keeping his weight up (You’re so skinny because the only things you eat are spaghettios, beer and coffee, Wayne had said. Have some steak and you will stop looking like you were lost in the woods eating roots and berries for a month). He was jealous of how he had a good amount of body hair while he himself had barely any on him, despite being a year older. He was jealous of his broad chest, his tan, his smiles - rare, honest smiles, not smirks; his smiles, while few, didn’t look forced.
Wait.
Since when was he thinking of Steve’s broad and hairy chest. Or his smiles.
What?
He frowned and sat up on his bed, covers pooling around his waist. He looked at the Judas Priest poster that was taped to his wall - one of the few that could be recovered from the old trailer. Rob Halford: onstage, with his bike, handcuffs hanging from his belt, all leather and spikes and sweat. Hair on his stomach. Studded leather gauntlets, ready to throw a punch. No riding crop this time. He stared, and instead of singing into a microphone he imagined the man with a nail bat, poised to strike; no hat and dark hair, all raw energy, feeling himself, in his element.
He looked down at his own lanky figure.
His hands are big. They'd look huge if they held onto my waist.
Wait.
Fuck.
Fuck!
---
Steve looked like he could barely contain his nerves, eyes huge while carrying a bunch of tapes as Robin walked in.
“So?”
“I’m so sorry, Steve.” Robin said. His face immediately fell. “I talked to him, you know, kept it straight- well y’know, not at all actually, and-”
“He’s… not.”
“No, dude. I’m sorry.”
Steve looked like a kicked puppy, putting the tapes back on display like they weighed a ton each. Robin sighed and helped him; there were no customers around yet. She looked at him, big blue eyes full of understanding.
“If it makes you feel any better, he was really kind about the whole thing. Very chill. Told me I was cool.”
“Yeah. Even if he’s not-” Robin could see how hard it was still for him to vocalize that word, The Word. “He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to be an ass about it.”
“Nah. I don’t think we would be friends with him if he was.”
Quiet boredom enveloped both for a while, looking at customers come and go, recommending movies they never watched. At a lull in the midday, Steve noticed Robin frowning and scratching at an old stain on the counter like it had personally wronged her.
He walked next to her and hip bumped her, his hand holding his chin and elbow set firmly near the offending grime.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I’m… still so mad, though. I thought I had my radar On Lock. I could have sworn, dude.” Robin complained, eyes not departing the stain at any point. "I'm sorry." Steve sighed.
“Don’t worry about it, Rob. At least this means I’ll have to work through my crush alone instead of embarrassing myself by doing something I never did before.”
Robin finally looked up at him, frowning and shaking her head.
“That’s like. The opposite of something positive, dingus.”
“Alright, blame the guy for trying to see the bright side. I see how it is.” Steve said while pulling on a strand of her hair. She snorted and pushed him away, right as someone came in the store. They didn't even lift their heads nor hesitated, but perfectly said their line in chorus like the minimum wage version of some spooky horror film twins.
“Family Video, how can we help you?”
---
Steve laid alone on his bed that night, alone in his house, alone with his thoughts. He had thought for a second there was someone else like him but he'd been wrong. And it was fine, really. Actually it wasn’t, but he couldn't do anything about it. And his newfound knowledge about himself? Well, it was still new and terrifying and tender. Like the demobat scars, maybe, if he stretched the metaphor a bit. Let the feelings sit on its own, look at them through various angles, familiarize with its contours and learn the shape. Maybe it was fine to navigate that on his own, for a while.
He still wanted, though. God, he wanted.
New unattainable crush achieved: Eddie Fucking Munson.