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Eddie moves around the kitchen, nodding his head to the beat of the record playing in the other room. He’d put it on just after Steve left, turning the volume up so it could be heard in the kitchen. Steve has left him to clean up after hosting yet another impromptu sleepover for the kids. Eddie can see he cares as much as Steve likes to pretend the kids annoy him to pieces. It’s his boyfriend’s way of showing his love, giving and doing whatever he can to make the people around him comfortable and happy.
Eddie’s halfway through an air guitar solo when he hears the doorbell ring. He frowns and pulls some stray hair out of his mouth, strolling towards the door. He has no fucking clue who it could be, and tensions are still high, even after his name had been cleared. A large part of Hawkins still blamed Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson for the murders.
Eddie swings open the door, trying for an air of casualness. “Hey.”
“-this music? What will the neighbours think?” A woman is muttering with a frown to a man scowling beside her. His scowl only deepens upon seeing Eddie. “Who are you?”
Eddie leans against the doorframe, taking in the two adults in front of him, laden with suitcases. They were definitely rich. And here Eddie is in a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and a band tee.
“Uhh.” Eddie hesitates, twisting one of his rings around his finger as the first dregs of anxiety tighten in his chest. “Eddie Munson,” he grins, falling back on his dramatic persona.
The man’s scowl becomes harsher as he hums. “And where is Steven?”
Steven? He’ll have to tease Steve for that one later. “Steve? He’s dropping the kids off at school.”
“The kids.”
“Yeah, um, he should be back soon.” Eddie hovers awkwardly in the doorway. “Who are you again?”
The man takes a step forward, arms folded over his chest. “We live here, son.”
“Oh shit! My bad.” Eddie moves from the doorway, backing up slowly towards the kitchen. “I’ll uh, go call Steve.”
He hears a short ‘please do’ from behind him as he stumbles his way into the kitchen, tearing through the residual mess for the walkie the kids had given him a couple of weeks ago. A chorus of ‘shit shit shit shit shit’ repeats in his head as he fumbles for the button. In the back of his mind, Eddie realises he probably should turn off the record player.
“Steve?” he tries. Eddie’s leg bounces as he leans against the counter. “Steve? Steve!” Nothing. “Harrington!”
It’s then that he hears his voice faintly crackling from upstairs. Steve didn’t take the walkie with him. Typical.
Eddie’s about to give up and deal with trying to explain why Eddie Munson was alone in the Harrington’s house when the walkie crackles to life, and Dustin answers, asking what’s wrong.
“Nothing’s wrong, just- tell Steve not to take his time. Some…unwanted guests are here,” Eddie replies, his slight anxiety causing him to stress his t’s.
There’s silence. Then Steve’s talking. It must have been Eddie’s tone or words because the message gets across to Steve surprisingly quickly.
“Fuck, okay. Sorry Eds they’re back early. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay Stevie, I’ll see you then.” He puts the walkie down and runs a ringed hand over his face. “Shit,” he sighs. This’ll be one awkward interaction.
Taking a deep breath, Eddie registers that the record is still playing in the living room. He goes to turn it off. As much as he wants to keep it on to soothe his building anxiety, Eddie hadn’t missed Mrs Harrington’s comment when he answered the door. A thick air of tension is already settling in the house, and Eddie has no intention of adding to it.
He stalls in the living room as he hears the Harrington’s moving through the house, probably to their bedroom, to put their suitcases and belongings away. Eddie fiddles with his rings, unsure of what to do next. He goes back into the kitchen and adjoining dining room to continue cleaning up, needing something to do with his hands. There’s still some trash, plates and bowls lying around from the kids, as well as a jacket someone left behind. Eddie piles all the crockery into a pile and takes it to the kitchen sink for either him or Steve to wash later. The trash gets thrown away, and Eddie folds the jacket, which he thinks is Mike’s, and leaves it on the kitchen counter.
Eddie gets started cleaning the dishes piled in the sink with nothing else to do, still needing to keep his hands and mind busy. He has a love, hate relationship with cleaning dishes. When his thoughts are racing, and he can feel the anxious energy coursing through him, the monotony of cleaning and rinsing each dish both helps and hinders him. The task gives him something to do with his hands but also ample time to think. Which he does not want right now.
Eddie has only just started when he hears footsteps. Steve’s parents appear in the dining room, sitting inside Eddie’s line of view. They’re having a hushed conversation between them, all too aware of his presence in the next room. Despite this, they’re outright ignoring Eddie, though they occasionally shoot looks at him that have an edge of disgust and disdain. It shouldn’t bother him, Eddie thinks. It’s not like being at the receiving end of disapproving looks and threatening glares is anything new to him. The difference now is that Eddie’s in a space he usually finds safety and comfort in. He huffs a soft laugh at the idea. Before any of this shit happened, Eddie would have never believed that he’d find comfort in any space that belonged to King Steve.
The increasing tension and silence in the house that had been filled with noise and laughter only an hour ago sets Eddie further on edge. It isn’t until he almost drops a plate that he realises his hands are shaking and his breathing is unsteady. Slowly, Eddie lowers his hands into the warm, soapy water, clasping them together in an attempt to both ground himself and stop the trembling. He takes a shaky breath in. Then out. He repeats it until he can safely continue with his task. His hands are still shaky, just less so, which he counts as a small win.
By the time he hears the familiar jangle of Steve’s keys, Eddie’s halfway through the monstrous pile of dishes the kids left behind in their wake. He’s calmer now, though he can still feel the Harrington’s eyes on him and the anxiety squeezing his chest. Mrs Harrington calls out a greeting to Steve, who absentmindedly calls back. Eddie listens as Steve walks straight into the kitchen, not turning around until Steve’s directly behind him. He smiles softly at Eddie as his eyes flicker over Eddie’s face. Steve’s concern is obvious, his brow furrowed and an apology in his brown eyes.
Eddie gives him a shaky smile back. It does the opposite of the attended effect, Steve’s brow furrowing further. He goes to say something but stops as Eddie minutely shakes his head, eyes flicking briefly over to Steve’s parents. Steve seems to get the message, giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze before walking into the dining room.
“Mom, Dad,” Steve greets with a nod, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Hi, Steve darling,” his mom smiles.
Mr Harrington simply nods back. “Steven. Have you worked on any college applications since we last spoke?”
From where he’s standing at the sink, Eddie can see the muscles in Steve’s arms flexing. Concern shoots through his chest. He knows without a doubt that Steve’s fists are clenched in his pockets.
“I haven’t, Dad. I’m still working a-”
“At that video store?” Mr Harrington interrupts. “Where is that going to get you Steven?”
“-nd with everything that’s happened here, with the earthquake, I can’t leave yet,” Steve implores.
Mr Harrington sighs. “You need to start at college. I plan to introduce you to some of my colleagues.”
“And leave my friends here? Now?”
“Yes. You need to start preparing to learn the business.”
“I can’t leave now, so many people still need help. The kids have been through a lot and need someone. Max has only recently gotten out of a coma, Dustin’s still on crutches. I’m not just going to leave them because you think I should go to college.”
“Steven. This is not a discussion. You will go to college.”
“No. No I fucking wont,” Steves says, voice hard.
“Don’t be difficult, Steven.”
Steve scoffs. “I’m not the one being difficult.”
“Yes you are!” His father blows up. “You’re being difficult and lazy and you continue to disappoint me.”
Steve inhales sharply like he’s been hit. It’s the final straw for Eddie. He wipes his hands on his jeans, marching over to stand beside Steve. He lightly touches the small of Steve’s back, feeling the tension he’s holding in his body. It deflates ever so slightly at Eddie’s touch.
“Say that again,” Eddie hisses, free hand clenched at his side.
“Ah yes,” Mr Harrington says, still looking at Steve, who Eddie can now see is clenching his jaw. “Not to mention that your mother and I arrived home to find a drug dealer and murderer in our home. Alone.”
“I left Eddie to clean up. He’s my guest, he has my permission to be here.”
Mr Harrington scoffs. “Your permission? Don’t forget whose house this is, boy.”
“What,” Steve laughs, bordering on hysterical. “Is it yours? Because you’re never fucking here.”
“We leave for business, Steven,” he glares at Eddie, gaze sharp and angry. “I see your attitude is being influenced by the company you keep.”
“Don’t you fucking pin this on Eddie or any of the others. I changed. For the better. You just weren’t around to see it.”
“I want him out of our house, now.”
“Fine,” Steve bites out, turning to Eddie sharply. “Grab your shit man.”
For one tiny second, Eddie thinks his boyfriend is actually kicking him out. His mounting anxiety is almost reaching his limit, and Eddie’s sure Steve can see his hands shaking. He simply nods, heading straight upstairs to grab the leather jacket he’d left flung across Steve’s bed. Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way downstairs, finding Steve standing by the door.
“Let’s go,” Steve says quietly.
Eddie feels a sliver of relief at Steve’s words. He nods, not trusting himself to keep his voice steady.
They leave quickly, jumping into Eddie’s van. His hands tremble against the wheel as he drives away from Steve’s house, no destination in mind. Steve seems to notice as he softly asks Eddie to pull over once they’re far enough away from Steve’s house.
“Hey Eds, breathe, okay? Just breathe with me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, feeling Steve slip his hand into Eddie’s as he struggles slightly to take deep breaths. Steve whispers sweet words and assurances, his thumb rubbing Eddie’s knuckles.
He doesn’t know how long they sit there, his van running as he calms himself down. His breathing is back to normal, but the anxiety is still thrumming through his veins, along with the anger that had been pushed back in the face of his panic.
“Thanks,” Eddie breathes, squeezing Steve’s hand.
Steve squeezes back. “You’re welcome sweetheart,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry you had to be there for that.”
Eddie whips his head to stare at Steve, eyes wide. “What? No! You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
Steve shrugs, his eyes trained down at their intertwined hands. “It’s okay. They’re not home much anyway.”
“It’s not okay, baby. And them not being home is part of the problem. How often are they gone?”
“Uhh, most of the time. I think the last time I saw them was about seven or eight months ago.”
“Seven or eight? Steve, that’s….” Eddie trails off.
“I honestly couldn’t care less anymore. They’re both self-absorbed assholes.”
Eddie has to agree, but he doesn’t think voicing that opinion right now would help the situation. Instead, he hums softly, lifting Steve’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Steve still wasn’t looking at Eddie, picking at the skin around his nails. Eddie’s heart sinks as he realises the problem.
“Stevie,” Eddie tries. When Steve doesn’t look up, Eddie hooks a finger under his chin softly. “Steve.” He only continues when Steve’s eyes find his. “You know that everything your dad said was bullshit, right?”
Steve immediately drops his eyes, curling into himself slightly. Eddie’s heart aches at how small his boyfriend looks.
“Steve,” Eddie says softly. “It sounds to me like neither of your parents have been around for a while. So how could they know the person you are?” he pauses before answering his own question. “They don’t, Steve. They’ve fucked up and have missed the incredibly caring and generous person you’ve become. I watch you with the kids, see how willing you are to drive them all around town, how you can never say no when they want to invade the house. Beneath all the mom and dad jokes, they really see you as a parental figure. They love you, Steve. And I can tell you love them just as much, if not more. You do so much for them and your parents will never see that. They have no idea who you are, Steve Harrington, so why should they get any say in what you think of yourself? Don’t pay those assholes any damn attention.”
Steve is looking at him now in disbelief, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He sniffs quietly, clearly trying not to cry. Eddie deflates and pulls his boyfriend into a hug, one hand cradling the back of Steve’s head, the other rubbing his back. Steve’s stiff for a moment before he sinks into the hug. With their chests pressed together, Eddie can feel Steve’s breath hitching.
He tightens his hold on Steve. “Shh, sweetheart. Let it out.”
That’s all it takes for Steve to begin sobbing into Eddie’s shoulder. His hands grip the back of Eddie’s jacket tightly, face tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck. As he continues rubbing his boyfriend’s back, Eddie absently wonders how long it’s been since Steve had been held while he cried. The thought hits Eddie right where it hurts, and he blinks back tears. Eddie himself often craves receiving this same kind of love and comfort. Not that he’d admit that to anyone. Wayne loves Eddie, but he’s never been the kind to outwardly show that love with physical affection. Eddie understands, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting.
He’s not sure how long it takes for Steve’s sobs to subside, but eventually, his boyfriend pulls back as he sniffles. Eddie cups Steve’s face, wiping away the fallen tears with his thumbs, tracing under Steve’s eyes. Steve closes his eyes and leans into the contact before blinking them open again.
“Better?” Eddie asks softly.
Steve nods, voice rough. “Better.”
Eddie slides his hands down to Steve’s shoulders, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs. “Back to mine? We can just lie around and cuddle?” he suggests with a small smile.
Steve hums in affirmation, leaning back into his seat. Eddie takes his hand as he pulls off the shoulder of the road, heading towards his place.
The two change into more comfortable clothes when they arrive and collapse straight into Eddie’s bed. Steve lies with his head on Eddie’s chest, the man’s fingers carding through his hair. It doesn’t take Steve long to fall asleep, looking peaceful tucked up against Eddie’s side. Relishing the moment, Eddie continues playing with Steve’s hair.
In the soft light of his bedroom, Eddie whispers a confession to the sleeping boy upon him.
“I don’t think I could live without you.”