Chapter Text
The bell above the door to Family Video sounded. Steve didn’t bother to look up from logging the returns, silently hoping it wasn’t one of those chatty old women who wanted to ask his opinion on every Richard Burton movie and tell him how much he would like their granddaughters. Robin loved those women, let her handle it. He pulled another movie from the stack just as knuckles wrapped on the counter, dragging his attention up. The customer service smile, which always had his cheeks aching, slid from his face when he saw it was just Dustin’s curly head leaning over the counter, like he was trying to read the labels on the stack of returns.
“Whatcha doin’?” Dustin singsonged as soon as he caught Steve’s attention.
“What does it look like I’m doing, Henderson?” Steve said, gesturing to the blinking computer screen, “Working.” Dustin just rolled his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“I can’t just come to watch you in action?” He said, pulling back in mock offense. Steve shook his head.
“I thought we talked about you not loitering in the store. Rent something or leave.” He was only half joking, since lately Dustin seemed to be showing up more and more during his work hours.
“Is that how you treat all your loyal customers?” He stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. Steve wasn’t moved in the slightest.
“Name one time you’ve actually rented a movie? One single time.” Dustin let out a long, drug out sigh and laid his cheek against the counter. Steve decided the best tactic was to ignore him, wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when kids were being dramatic? He swiveled in the chair back to his stack of returns. The back room door swung open, knocking into the far wall like it always did when Robin kicked it with too much force.
“I don’t know the last time we cleaned that counter, Dustin.” She said, setting one of the dented cardboard boxes of candy beside his head. “Snotty kids probably sneeze right on there and we never even wipe it off.” She grinned as his head shot up.
“Steve!” He whined, “You couldn’t have warned me?” Steve held up both hands in defense.
“Hey kid, I wasn’t the one who told you to put your face there. In fact, if I remember, I think I told you to leave!”
“Robin, tell him to be nicer to me.” Robin chuckled, shaking her head as she ripped off the top of the box.
“I’m not getting in the middle of you two again. Hands off!” She smacked at Dustin’s hand as he reached in to grab a pack of skittles. “No free candy.” Seeming to forget the whole sneezing children lesson, he put his head back against the green laminate countertop.
“Why are you really here?” Steve asked again, abandoning the logging to turn and lean his elbows on the counter above Dustin’s head. “It’s the first Friday of your summer break. Shouldn’t you and the rest of the brat pack be in Wheeler’s basement right now, or hogging all the good arcade games?” Dustin groaned again,
“Will, Lucas, and me were supposed to go to the movies. But then Lucas decided to go over to Max’s” he snorted as if this was a ridiculous option.
“So just go with Will?” Robin said, but Dustin just shook his head.
“He dropped out too. Of course. The second Lucas said he wasn’t coming, Will just had to go hang out with Eddie. But he always does that.” The words came out tinged with a level of bitterness that Steve wasn’t used to from Dustin. Sure the kid was the most dramatic of all the children he somehow seemed to be in charge of, always turning molehills into mountains. But this felt different, like Dustin was working very hard not to show how much it was bothering him. Like the bitterness was accidental.
The Byers had been back in Hawkins for a month or so now, and from what he’d seen, Will had taken to Eddie right away. The most immature part of Steve had been a little thrilled at the development, hoping that maybe Dustin would finally be less obsessed with the older boy. And then, of course, he’d chastised himself for spending any time worrying if he was a high schooler’s favorite adult to hang out with. God, he needed more friends that were older than fifteen.
“Why didn’t you just go with him? Eddie’s your friend too.” Steve’s least favorite job about babysitting, or at least tied for last with carpooling all the shitheads around, was trying to navigate their weird fights. He didn’t have drama with his friends when he was a freshman. If he did something Tommy H didn’t like, he’d get a hard smack to the back of the head or get called a name and ignored for a few days and then it’d be over. No weird dancing around hurting each other's feelings, so this was new territory for him.
Dustin raised his head enough to fix Steve with that look he hated. The one that he got whenever he dared ask a question about any of their nerd shit. Like he was the dumbest person on the planet.
“Obviously, Steve, he didn’t tell me he was going to hang out with Eddie. Their whole friendship is all cloak-and-dagger. None of us get to know about it or ask about it. And I was the one who introduced everyone to Eddie in the first place so I don’t get why it has to be a secret.” He plopped his head back onto the counter. Steve tried to catch Robin’s eye so they could have one of their silent conversations of what is this kid even talking about , but she was so wrapped up in rearranging the boxes of Nerds on the wire shelf that she didn’t even seem to be listening anymore.
The door pushed open again and a group of middle school girls came in, all yelling and talking at once followed by one very overwhelmed looking dad who immediately went over to the windowsill to sit down as the kids dispersed. He glanced at the clock above the door. It was nearly four which meant the Friday night rush was about to get started. He leaned over Dustin and fished in the cardboard box for a bag of skittles, sighing as he dropped them directly in front of Dustin’s eyeline.
“If I give you candy, just this once ,” he emphasized, “will you leave so Robin and I can actually do our jobs.”
“I didn’t ride my bike all the way over here just to get a bag of Skittles.” Dustin said, not moving his head. Steve groaned internally. They were easier to bribe when they were younger.
“Fine,” he spit, “If you get back on your bike and go literally anywhere else but here…” he took a breath, already hating himself for the words he was about to say, “I will cancel my date with Mary Beth and go to your dumb movie night at Joyce’s tomorrow.” He knew it would work. Dustin (along with all the others) had been begging him every chance they got for the last two weeks. They had plenty of movie nights, most in the Wheeler’s basement, but Joyce had promised to let them make homemade pizzas and their new house had one of those sectional couches that was actually big enough for no one to have to sit on the floor. Dustin’s head shot up immediately, wide grin and sparkling eyes.
“Really?” He was practically bouncing. “It’s going to be so fun, and if you agree to drive us home our parents will definitely let us stay later.” Steve just nodded, and before he could say anything else Dustin had snatched the pack of Skittles off the counter and was running out the door with a shouted “7 O’clock and not a minute later!” as he left. The door knocked loudly shut, making the tired looking dad jump.
“You’re like the easiest person in the world to push over.” Robin said, still not looking up from the candy stocking.
“I know.” Steve said miserably. “There’s no way I can convince you to come too, is there?” She just laughed.
“Nope. I would but…”
“Vickie.” Steve finished for her and her cheeks went pink.
“Yeah. She’s coming over for pedicures and a sleep over.”
“You hate people touching your feet, Rob.” Steve said, dumping the last few bags of candy from the box onto the counter and pulling at the sides to flatten it.
“I hate you touching my feet. Besides, it’s just nail polish, I figure I can do my toes and she can worry about her own.” The door opened again, this time a young couple. Steve looked back to Robin, whispering,
“Whatever you say. I just think you should just ask her on a date. It’s been like six months, Robin. She’s clearly into you.” Robin shook her head, changing the subject just like she always did whenever Steve brought it up.
“What are you doing after close?” Steve didn’t fight her on the topic change, since it was probably a conversation better suited for his car or empty house than a crowded movie store.
“Going home? It’ll be like midnight?” She came around the counter to stand beside him, taking the flattened cardboard box and shoving it into the too small recycling bin. They’d have to take it all out to the dumpster at the end of the shift so Steve figured it didn’t really matter. “Aren’t you going home too? I’m supposed to drive you.” She flashed him a guilty smile.
“Eddie called earlier, while you were on break. He wants to go get late night pancakes at Paulette’s.” She paused, seemingly waiting for some kind of reaction from Steve. When he gave none she rolled her eyes, “Do you want to come along, dingus?”
“I really don’t think Munson was inviting me.” Steve said, scuffing his shoe along the leg of the chair. Just like Dustin was trying not to seem bothered by Will suddenly hanging around Eddie, Steve was having a very similar experience. Ever since Eddie was released from the hospital following his idiotic roof concert with the demobats, he and Robin had been hanging out semi-regularly. Robin invited Steve to tag along sometimes, go bowling with them or go drink beers in the quarry, but they never felt like real invites. Whatever friendship Eddie and Robin had somehow forged, Steve didn’t seem to be a part of it. Probably because Eddie was not a member of the Steve Harrington fan club since clearly Robin had no problem with him.
“I’m inviting you. Eddie won’t care.” She said, throwing a balled up wad of receipt paper at Steve’s head. “You’re the one who’s convinced he hates you.”
“I don’t think he hates me. I just don’t think he wants to be friends.” This came out sounding whiny and childish so Steve tagged on a “Not that it bothers me either way.” Even without looking he could feel her rolling her eyes.
“Whatever. I want you to come. You’ve been promising to buy me dinner forever.” Steve swiveled the chair around to face her more fully,
“Ah, so that’s what this is about Buckley. I’m just your meal ticket.” He was ready this time to snatch the wad of paper out of the air and toss it back towards her. Someone cleared their throat and Steve turned in the chair to see the tired looking dad, a stack of movies on the counter between them. Coughing through her laugh Robin was quick with a smile.
“Will that be all for you today, Sir?” When the man went fishing through his pockets for his wallet, Robin turned her head over her shoulder and stage whispered to Steve, “Please come. For me.” Steve rolled his eyes but nodded. Robin was right. He was a push over.
Paulette’s, which was actually named Paulette’s All Night Diner and Donuts if the neon sign was to be believed, was one of the only places open past 10 in all of Hawkins. And it wasn’t even in Hawkins proper. Before Robin, Steve never even knew the squat, fifties style diner existed. If he wanted to hang out with friends after all the regular places had closed, he’d just have them over to his house. It’s not like his parents were ever home to mind. But pretty early on in their friendship, Robin had come over to his house after their first closing shift at Family Video and, after spinning in a big circle just inside the door, proclaimed that Steve’s house was “way too quiet and creepy at night to be a good hangout spot” which is how Steve learned about Paulette’s.
When the bright sign came into view, just past the East Side of Hawkins near all the gas stations where the truckers get off the highway, Robin cleared her throat.
“What?” Steve asked, not bothering to look away from the road.
“I love you, you know that.” Robin said, squirming a little in the passenger seat. “But can you, like, be cool around Eddie this time?”
“I am cool!” Steve shot back, automatically defensive. Sure he wasn’t the guy's biggest fan, but he wasn’t an asshole. Learning about alternate dimensions and fighting demons for three years is enough of a come to Jesus moment to make anyone reevaluate their teenage assholeness. Steve was no exception. He turned into the parking lot, sliding into the space beside Eddie’s van that was already dark and waiting. “Robin, I’m cool. Right?” She gave him that long suffering smile.
“You just sometimes get a little…” She seemed to struggle to find the right word, eventually landing on “possessive, over the kids. And I think it makes him feel like a competitor to you. You play the ‘my horse is bigger than your horse game’ and no one likes that.”
“I have no clue what that even means.” Steve said, although the first half made it seem like it couldn’t possibly be positive. She reached out and ruffled his hair, which he hated.
“Just be nice. Try to be his friend.” She pleaded.
“I always do!” Steve argued, trying to fix his hair in the dark review mirror.
“Sure.” She said, reaching over to muss it again before he could knock her hand away. He cursed under his breath and she laughed, pushing open the passenger door. Once it was closed she leaned back in through the open window, waiting until he looked over at her before she added, “Just remember, he’s one of us now. He’s seen the shit, he’s fought the war. Let him be part of the group.” Steve muttered something close to agreeing as he leaned over the center console to roll up her window, the scars from the demobats pulling like they always did.
Briefly, as he pressed his palm over the spot where the angry pink lines still crisscrossed along his sides, he wondered what Eddie’s scars looked like. They would be worse, he was sure, since Steve’s wounds had only required Nancy’s makeshift bandage while Eddie had been dragged up through the portal, eyes glassy, the blood oozing down from his half parted lips like a shot deer. Sometimes, that moment made an appearance in Steve’s nightmares. Robin and Nancy pulling the rope up (well down from their side, but up from the Upside Down side) and Steve would be lifting Eddie at the shoulders, his own wounds screaming at the motion. He’d hear Dustin’s keening in the background, feel the wet slip of Eddie’s blood as it dripped on his face, got in his mouth. He’d wake up, shaking and sweaty, still tasting the copper of it on his tongue. Usually those were the nightmares that made him vomit.
Robin whistles at him from where she stands, holding the diner door open and making a “come on” gesture with both her hands. Steve gives his head a little shake, as if it were possible to knock the thoughts loose, push them back into the recesses of his mind. It half worked, letting his loose smile be nearly genuine when Robin called him a “slowpoke” and tried to jab him in the ribs with her fingers as he passed.
Inside, the blue vinyl booths were surprisingly full. Not actually full, but at least half of them were occupied, which wasn’t the norm for Paulette’s. Then again it was a Friday night so he guessed this really wouldn’t be their busiest. A few half asleep truckers nursed coffees, and there was one table crowded with kids Steve vaguely recognized as being a year or two behind him at Hawkins, they all had empty milkshake glasses and were playing some card game involving at least three different colored decks. When Robin had first brought him to Paulette’s, a place her family had been frequenting on Saturday mornings for years, he hadn’t thought much of it. It felt like a place that should have shut its doors years ago but just refused. Most of the seats were ripped and patched with duct tape, the music was always from the ‘50s and the speakers made it garbled and distorted so that even if you were a fan of the classics, you wouldn’t recognize it. But, the more they’d come the more he realized that, especially late at night, there was a special kind of magic about it. The lights were dim overhead, the fluorescent flickering in a few spots, but the whole place smelled like coffee and yeast, and the cars on the distant overpass out of the left side windows looked a bit like stars if you squinted. That last one was Robin’s favorite part, Steve thought they looked like cars, but loved that Robin loved it.
Robin spotted Eddie before Steve did, dragging him by the wrist towards the far wall of booths where he leaned, flipping through a notebook, feet propped on the opposite booth. Even though it was still annoyingly humid out, Eddie was in his leather jacket, free hand pulling at the loose threads in one of the rips in his jeans. He must have heard their footsteps because they were still a few tables away when his eyes slid up, searching. When they landed on Robin his smile broke wide, eyes twinkling with the weight of it. Steve wasn’t sure if he’d actually ever seen Eddie smile. Smirk, yes. Grin at one of Dustin’s jokes or at Steve’s discomfort, probably. But the smile he gave Robin was something totally different, like a lightbulb being flipped on. Eddie Munson had a nice smile. Which made the shift all the more apparent when Eddie seemed to notice Steve trailing behind. The smile didn’t drop, not even a fraction, but it was like the light behind it clicked back off. An eyebrow raised in the silent question of “why are you here?”
“Did you tell him I was coming?” Steve hissed to Robin, but she didn’t seem to hear, or maybe she was just ignoring him. Either way, still dragging him by the wrist, she pulled him down into the booth next to her.
“Were you waiting long?” She asked Eddie, he shrugged, looking down into the thick sided mug in front of him.
“About half a cup of coffee’s worth, so not too long.” He glanced up at Steve, “I wasn’t expecting to see you, Harrington. No hot date?”
“I could ask you the same.” Steve said, voice sounding less like a joke than it was meant to. Eddie’s eyes flicked to Robin, but she didn’t notice since she was jabbing her elbow into Steve’s side. But Steve noticed. Obviously, Robin wasn’t interested in Eddie, but maybe Eddie was interested in her. Maybe that explained why he’d all but thrown Steve into Nancy’s arms in the Upside Down, why he seemed totally uninterested in spending any time with him over the past few months, why he was currently giving him a sort of appraising once over. Was Eddie Munson jealous? Steve wanted to roll his eyes, wanted to say you’ve got nothing to worry about there, bud . But he couldn’t, since it wasn’t his to tell or not tell, so instead he pretended to be extremely interested in the sticky menu. When the waitress came over, the green uniform hanging off her a bit too big, it took Steve several long moments to recognize her. It wasn’t until Eddie gave her a smile and said,
“We’ll have more coffee when you have a second, Susan. But no rush.” His voice was softer, kinder, and with the familiarity of it, Steve finally placed the tired looking face and red hair. Max’s mom. He’d only met her a few times, and the last had been through a window when she gave a little wave as Max climbed into the passenger seat. It had always nagged at him a little, that she never wanted to talk to him. All the other parents had, at one time or another, stepped on the porch and thanked Steve for carting around their precious little children. It wasn’t like he was looking for thanks from Mrs. Hargrove (Or had she gone back to Mayfield now?). He just couldn’t imagine that a mother would be totally okay with her fifteen year old daughter climbing into a twenty-year old man’s car on a regular basis without at least introducing herself. Then again, from what little he knew, maybe she was having a rough time of it lately. Maybe worrying about Max wasn’t even on her radar. At the thought, Steve felt a rush of sadness for the girl, followed quickly on its heels with an even more powerful protectiveness. Someone should be there to worry about her, and if the real adults in her life weren’t going to look out for Max, he’d have to step it up, keep a better eye out.
Robin elbowed him again, and he realized that it was his turn to order.
“What’d you get?” Steve asked Robin.
“Pancakes,” She said, a little dreamily. “With blueberry syrup.” Steve wrinkled his nose slightly. He was a purist when it came to pancake toppings.
“I’ll have the same.” He said to Mrs. Hargrove, “Pancakes with blueberry syrup. And some bacon.” Eddie was watching him, quirked eyebrow and slightly parted lips like Steve was a puzzle he was trying to solve. It made Steve’s skin itch, being watched like that. When they were alone again, Robin taking every single jelly packet off the rack and stacking them into a tower, Steve felt the full awkward force of his presence. If he wasn’t here, he was sure they’d be talking and laughing like he’d seen them do tons of times. But now, there was just a thick sort of silence.
“So,” Steve said, trying to sound as casual as he would if he were talking to Nancy or Jonathan “Are you enjoying being a Hawkins High graduate?” Eddie grinned,
“Hell yeah. Although if they hadn’t let me walk I don’t think I could have stomached going back anyway.” He took a long sip of his coffee, “We’re going to have to find a new D&D spot come fall because there’s no way I’m setting foot back on that campus. We had to stop for the summer since the school is locked and Wheeler’s basement doesn’t have a big enough table.”
“Steve has plenty of space at his house.” Robin piped up, and it was Steve’s turn to try and elbow her in the ribs but she was too fast, scooting deeper into the booth so that he couldn’t reach her without it being entirely obvious. She continued, unphased “His dining room table is huge. Definitely enough room. Right, Steve?” The only thing in this terrible moment that made Steve feel any better as his mind spun in a helpless circle, was that Eddie’s absolutely unhideable glare at Robin said that he didn’t like the idea anymore than Steve did. Still, it wasn’t like he could just say no. Not after Robin’s whole speech about Eddie being part of the group.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll have to ask my folks.” Steve said, hearing the false not in his own voice. Robin gave him a sharp look. She knew better than anyone that Steve’s parents had left on a summer long European tour, celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary and his father’s promotion. He could’ve thrown a rager every night of the week and his parents would be none the wiser. She might have said so too, Steve wouldn’t put it past her, if Mrs. Hargrove hadn’t brought out a tray with their food at that very moment. Steve had never been happier to see blueberry syrup in his life. Robin grabbed her fork immediately, Eddie chuckling as they watched her shovel a choking hazard's worth of pancake into her mouth.
“Ugh.” She said, once she’d finished the first bite. “I’ve missed pancakes so much. Why don’t we come here more?”
“We were literally here on Tuesday.” Eddie said, still smiling as he reached over to her jelly tower to pluck the top packet off. Steve felt another sting of jealousy rise up, despite his best efforts. Tuesday. On Tuesday he’d asked Robin if she wanted to come over to his house for a movie night but she’d turned him down, blaming a family dinner. He was sure Robin was looking at him, could feel her eyes on this side of his face, but he didn’t look up. He wasn’t some needy high schooler who couldn’t handle his best friend having other friends. She could do what she wanted, and he would just work on being okay with that.
“I guess that’s too long when it comes to pancakes.” Robin said, her voice a little higher pitched than before. Eddie didn’t seem to notice any tension, since he just tilted his head back, laughing loudly before breaking into some story about a diner he’d been to outside Fort Wayne, where a waiter got in a fistfight with the cook. Steve watched as he gesticulated wildly with his fork, the other arm stretched out over the back of the booth, voice loud and animated. Steve even noticed one of the truckers at the counter, turning in his chair to better listen.
That was the thing about Eddie, he just took up so much space. Invaded and expanded so that it was impossible to look anywhere else but him. Annoyingly enough, Steve found himself leaning in, getting swept up in Eddie’s charismatic storytelling as he began describing the raw eggs the cook had thrown through the pick-up window. It was a good story, had Robin in tears and Steve grinning despite his best efforts. Robin finished off her pancakes as the story dwindled, and as she lifted the last bite into her mouth, Steve wordlessly slid one of his own onto her plate. She never ordered enough for herself. It was just routine at this point. Eddie was still talking, no discernible change in his tone, but when Steve looked back up, sucking a bit of the sickly sweet blueberry syrup off his thumb, Eddie had that same tilted head, studying expression, and Steve didn’t know how to feel about being the puzzle Eddie Munson wanted to solve.
Robin's head rested on his shoulder as they sat in Steve’s car outside her neighbor’s house. If they idled too long in her own driveway Mr. Buckley had a habit of coming out onto the porch with a flashlight to shine in through the windshield. Try as they might to prove otherwise, Robin’s parents were convinced that Steve and Robin were in some clandestine relationship full of sneaking around and late night car make-outs. They couldn’t really prove otherwise without revealing a secret Robin wasn’t ready for. So instead, when Robin spent the night at his house she always said it was Nancy Wheeler. Her parents thought the Wheeler’s were the best kind of people, and a good influence on their kid so they never even bothered to fact check. Besides, Steve was about 90% sure Nancy would cover for them, even if she thought she was covering for a hook-up instead of what was really happening, popcorn and MacGyver marathons.
“Are you mad at me?” Robin eventually asked him as they sat in the dark. They’d been quiet for nearly ten minutes, the radio playing softly in the back.
“Not really.” Steve said, and it was the truth, surprisingly. “We don’t have to hang out every second of the day, Rob. You can have other friends.” She snorted out a laugh that he felt against his neck.
“Obviously. But thank you for the permission, Dingus.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know. But still, I should have just told you I was with Eddie.” Steve shrugged, her head bobbing with the movement.
“Sure, maybe, but you didn’t have to. I’m glad that you and Eddie are friends.” Again, he was surprised when the words came out genuine. Robin had laughed more over their two hour long diner hang out than she had their whole shift at Family Video. She needed more fun in her life. Steve wasn’t entirely sure why it had to be Eddie, but it wasn’t his to decide. Like so often, she seemed to read the direction of his thoughts without him saying a word. She sat up, fixing the full force of her Robin stare at him.
“Steve Harrington. I know that you had fun tonight. I need you to admit that you had fun.” He rolled his eyes but she persisted. “I’m serious. I need you to say it out loud. I need you to say ‘I, Steve Harrington, had fun hanging out with Eddie Munson and Robin was right again, just like she is about everything.’” She said in a very poor imitation of Steve’s voice.
“So humble.” He said when he’d finished laughing. “But I will admit that it wasn’t terrible.” She slapped his arm in excitement.
“See! I knew if you two could just be around each other when you weren’t saving the world or gravely injured, you’d realize how good of friends you’d actually be.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends…” Steve said, not sure exactly what he’d call them, acquaintances maybe? She waved him off.
“You just need to have like a one on one hangout, air out any lingering King Steve vs Eddie the Freak negative feelings.” She was talking faster now, getting excited. “Why don’t you invite him to the Byers’ movie night tomorrow. Dustin asked already but he said ‘no,’ but I bed he’d say ‘yes’ to you. You two could bond!” Steve grimaced at the thought, the two of them sitting in awkward silence in the Byers’ kitchen.
“Absolutely not. But we’re fine, we don’t need to be best friends.” Steve leaned over to knock his shoulder into hers as he turned the car back on, inching them forward towards her house. “I already have a best friend, what more could I want.” Robin, thankfully, didn’t say anything. But as she got out of the car, Mr. Buckley’s silhouette in the storm door already, she was shaking her head in a way that made Steve sure he hadn’t heard the last from her on the subject of Eddie Munson. Not even close.