Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I can’t believe you’re making me go to bed at this hour.”

Steve rolls his eyes and peers at Max over the top of the Teen Beat magazine he’s found under the coffee table. He’s half way through the cover feature on George Michael and honestly, he’s kind of getting into it.

She’s pouting at him, but in her PJs at least. Small victories.

“Listen, your mom left me in charge while she’s in California,” he sighs. As much as being in charge comes naturally to him, he still doesn’t enjoy having to boss the kids around. “She was the one who told me 9pm. Sorry, punk.”

The Mayfield trailer is sparse. The dregs of furniture left behind by Max’s step dad after Billy had died and he’d pissed off back to the west coast before he could even be buried doing little to fill the space. But they seem happy. Well. As happy as they can be after what happened over the summer.

It’s been a good few months now, the rest of Hawkins almost back to normal, Starcourt Mall close to being fully demolished. Max is good at pretending she’s back to normal too, only those that are closest to her able to tell she’s lying.

Steve is glad to be able to spend a few days with her actually, doesn’t get to very often what with work and after school clubs and her having other friends who are closer to her age and probably more fun to hang out with than Steve. He gets it. Hopes they’ll still have fun though.

Max huffs, opening her mouth to argue back and then stopping herself when Steve shoots a raised eyebrow her way. “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” he tosses the magazine back onto the coffee table and slaps his palms against his thighs, pushing to his feet with a huff. “want anything before you turn down for the night?” He cocks his head towards the small kitchen area of the trailer. “I fancy pancakes.”

Max’s eyes crinkle around the corners as she nods, padding over to him, bare feet quiet as they hit the carpet. He was never going to send her to bed at 9.

She hops up onto the counter beside the stove, watching sleepily as he hunts through the cupboards for what he needs. Flour and eggs and sugar stuffed somewhere behind tins of soup. “You wanna mix?” he asks, dumping some of the flour into a bowl he finds.

Max nods, tucking fiery red hair behind her ear as she pulls a leg up onto the counter, reaching down to open the drawer she’s sat above and pulling out a spoon before taking the bowl from him wordlessly. She’s quiet as she stirs, eyes glazing over a little as she stars to zone out.

“You good, Mayfield?” Steve asks, his voice feels far too loud in the quiet of the trailer.

She snaps her eyes up to meet his, flinching a little as if she’s forgotten he’s even there, the mechanical movement of her wrist lulling her into another dimension.

“Yeah,” she coughs. “yeah, sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, pushing himself off the counter with his hip without waiting for an answer, glancing back to look at her as he walks over to the old record player in the corner, squatting down beside it. “The usual?” he holds up Hounds of Love.

“Can we have the Scorpions one?” she asks quietly, and Steve nods, ignoring the way his heart hurts at her words. He fingers through the small pile of records on the floor until he gets to Love at First Sting, pulling out the well worn sleeve.

He straightens himself up with a groan, stretching out his back a little, wincing when it pops. Through the gap in the old blinds he can see the Munson trailer across the park, mostly in darkness apart from the big window in the front. He can see Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, he thinks his name is, pottering around and picking things up. Probably getting ready for work, Steve thinks to himself. He’s sure he heard one of the kids talking about him in the back of the car when he was taking them home a couple of weeks ago. Eddie’s van isn’t there though. Steve doesn’t know where he is. Not that it’s any of his business anyway.

He shakes his head a little to clear it, sliding the vinyl onto the turntable.

“So,” he starts, padding his way back across the room to Max. “what’s going on in that big old brain of yours, young lady?” He gives her forehead a couple of gentle taps, smiling as she giggles, trying desperately hard not to think about how much she’s changed since Billy died.

“Thanks for staying,” she says, not quite meeting his gaze. “You didn’t have to, yano. I would’ve been okay by myself or like, I dunno.” She shrugs. “with my aunt or something.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t be stupid,” he tells her. “I’ve got nothing to stay at home for. Plus, you’ve always been my favourite.” He winks at her. “Don’t tell Dustin that though.” This time he can’t quite ignore the way his heart feels almost full to bursting when she laughs.

They finish the pancakes while they make idle chit chat, Max telling him about school and how she’s definitely not going to be talked into joining Hellfire no matter how much Dustin begs, and Steve telling her all about his new job at Family Video, promising that sometime this week they’ll definitely hang out properly with Robin because he just knows her and Max will get along like a house on fire.

The carry their plates out front into the cold night air, the clock almost reading 11pm by the time they’ve actually got something worth eating, Max’s piled high with whipped cream and chocolate chips, Steve’s covered in syrup. They eat on the bench in a comfortable silence, elbows and knees knocking together, nothing but the dim light of the moon helping them to see, eating until they both feel sick and Steve has to unbutton his jeans for comfort.

Max snuggles into his side when they’re finished, knees tucked tightly into herself as she traces nonsense patterns on the denim of his jeans. He manages to shuck off his cardigan without disturbing her too much, throwing it over her, smiling as she hums in appreciation. “Should probably get you to bed,” he suggests. “school in the morning.” If Mrs Mayfield ever finds out they were still awake at almost midnight on a school night he’d probably never be allowed to babysit again.

He feels her nod, but also feels the way she draws further into him and suddenly, he doesn’t have the heart to make her move so there they stay until Max’s breathing evens out against his side and her arm goes limp across his leg.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been but sometime later Eddie’s van pulls up outside his trailer, pitch dark now that Wayne’s car is gone. He watches as Eddie hops out and lingers a second, thinks he sees a smile as someone in a Hawkins cheer uniform appears from round the other side of his van. It looks a lot like Chrissy Cunningham but Steve can’t be certain. Good for him, he thinks to himself, ignoring the weird feeling he gets deep in the pit of his stomach. Eddie opens the flimsy trailer door for whoever it is, ushers them inside with a sweeping arm movement and a curtesy. He catches Steve’s eye from across the path as he backs into the doorway himself, raising a hand in salute, disappearing inside before Steve can react.

If Steve happens to fall asleep on the bench outside the Mayfield trailer and dream about Eddie Munson, no one ever has to know.

Monday and Tuesday night go much the same; Steve sending Max to get changed for bed at 9pm before easily relenting when she makes her argument for staying up later - first she isn’t tired and then she’s scared about nightmares, although Steve doesn’t think that one’s a lie.

Both times they end up sitting on the grass outside the trailer, lit by the moon and a shitty lantern Steve had found in the back of his car. They play dominoes and card games and talk about boys until Max can barely keep her eyes open and Steve has to carry her to bed.

He doesn’t really have an excuse as to why he finds himself back outside on the bench each night either, although he definitely doesn’t hate the way Eddie waves at him every time he arrives at his trailer with Chrissy.

Does kind of hate that weird niggle in his belly that feels like jealousy, though.

“Fancy seeing you during working hours, Harrington,” Eddie laughs, as he follows the kids out of D&D on Wednesday evening. He’s wearing his Hellfire shirt and a leather jacket that’s stretched tight over his shoulders, slightly too short on his arms. His hair is pinned back in a sort of makeshift bun at the nape of his neck in a way that Steve doesn’t think he’s seen before. Not that he’s keeping track.

“What’s up, man?” Steve nods, feeling stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. He still isn’t entirely sure why he seems to turn into a babbling teenager around Eddie, stumbling over his words and getting giddy over a late night wave.

It’s just Eddie. The same Eddie that Steve barely paid any mind to until the boys joined Hellfire. Eddie who, until recently, was just the weirdo who Steve saw across the hall at lunch and avoided in the hallways. Eddie who, as it turns out, is actually a pretty nice guy once you drop the prejudices and get to know him. Even Lucas had waxed lyrical about him and he’s into like, basketball and shit these days.

“How’s Max?” he asks Steve, placing an unlit cigarette between his lips. He tilts the packet to Steve, watching with a smirk as he hesitates before taking one.

Steve watches as Eddie cups a hand around his face, the tip of his nose glowing a faint orange as he lights up, motioning for Steve to lean forward so he can light his too. He takes a drag and blows out, ignoring the way Eddie doesn’t even flinch as the smoke wafts across his face. “Yeah, she’s. She’s alright.”

He knows that Eddie knows what happened at the Mall. Knows he shouldn’t, obviously, but Dustin is, well. He’s Dustin and he can’t keep his mouth shut at the best of times, never mind around people that he’s obsessed with. Steve might not know much about Eddie from the handful of times they’ve met but one thing he does know is that Eddie is far too anti government to give a fuck about keeping their secrets.

He’s safe.

“I’m glad you’re there to keep an eye on her, dude,” Eddie admits, mirroring Steve’s action as he takes a drag of his own cigarette. “I hear her sometimes,” he winces. “the nightmares.”

Steve nods, rubbing a hand across his face. “Yeah,” he says with a sad laugh. “I know the feeling.”

“Hey, you know where I am if you ever wanna talk, man,” Eddie’s brow furrows as he gives Steve a gentle slap on the arm, fingers lingering for a second as he runs his hand up and down his bare skin. “and I mean that. Henderson hasn’t told me everything but he’s told me enough that I know it would probably fuck me up. And that’s saying something.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks, Munson,” he smiles, ignoring that weird feeling he’s got in his stomach again. “wouldn’t wanna interrupt your romantic rendezvous though.”

“Wha-oh,” Eddie chuckles. “That’s not. It’s. It’s nothing, man,” he stutters, waving his hand through the air. Some of the ash from his cigarette lands on Steve’s shoe. “you’re good. Just pop over anytime, seriously. Can’t be that fun sitting outside that trailer all night on your own,” Eddie claps his hands together and takes a step back. “I have drugs if nothing else.” he smirks and shoots finger guns at Steve.

Steve isn’t sure if he’s flattered that Eddie has noticed him lingering outside every night this week or if it’s making him feel like a bit of a creep for doing it. He doesn’t let himself think about it.

He laughs. “Not sure if nightmares and baby sitting are a great combo for getting smoked but I can do a beer?”

Eddie grins and holds his free hand out for Steve to shake. “Deal.”

Steve nods, and takes Eddie’s hand, squawks embarrassingly when he tugs Steve against his chest and wraps an arm around his back. “Don’t suffer in silence over there, Harrington.”

There’s a soft smile on his face when Steve steps back, genuine and private and Steve tries his best not to blush under his stare as he pushes his hair back off his forehead. “You’re pretty soft for the town satanist, huh?”

Eddie laughs, and Steve can feel his gaze heavy on him as he opens the door to his Beemer and climbs inside, definitely doesn’t keep his eyes on the rear view mirror long enough to notice the fact that Eddie makes no move to get into his own van, definitely fucking ignores the way Dustin wiggles his eyebrows at him from his seat in the back.

“Right,” he coughs, embarrassed by the way his fucking voice cracks. “who wants milkshake?”

He goes on a date with Denise on Thursday night and pretends to enjoy it.

If he lets his mind wander all the way home after he’s dropped her off then that’s no one’s business but his own.

Max’s mom is due back from California on Saturday so he makes plans for them to hang out with Robin after Max is done with school on Friday. Steve has the day off and Robin’s shift finishes right as school gets out so everything works out perfectly.

Eddie is on his way over when Steve opens the door to leave, his eyes lighting up with a smile when he spots Steve. “Hey,” he grins, giving him a little wave, the sun light glinting off his rings where his fingers are clasped around a six pack.

It feels like the middle of summer despite the fact that it’s almost November, sun high in the sky as birdsong fills the air.

“Hey man,” Steve shoots back. “No school today?” It feels kind of weird to say given that Eddie is older than him but Eddie doesn’t seem
to care.

He shakes his head at Steve. “Got kicked out of class,” he laughs. “should probably study but I saw your car and wondered if you wanted that beer instead?”

His eyes are so fucking big and brown in the sunlight, his fringe getting so long it’s brushing his eyelashes. Steve gets why Chrissy is over so often.

“Shit, man. I’d love to but I promised Max we’d hang out with Robin after school.” His heart nearly fucking breaks in two when he sees the way Eddie’s face drops.

“Ah, yeah. No worries, dude. Another time, maybe?” he laughs wetly, nodding at Steve to hide his disappointment, before he turns on his heels and starts off back to his own trailer, gravel crunching loudly beneath his feet.

“Hang on,” Steve calls after him, ignoring the way his heart feels like it’s gonna fly out of his chest it’s beating so hard. “you could uh,” he swallows, hand on the back of his neck. The mid afternoon sun is hot where it hits his fingers as he steps out of the shade, prickling down his back as his body adjusts to the temperature. “you could come with us?” he suggests and Eddie just. Well, he beams. Steve thinks it might be brighter than the sun.

He pops the trunk and watches as Eddie places the six pack carefully inside. He’s wearing jeans so tight Steve thinks that, if he squints, he could probably see the outline of his boxers, and a faded Metallica shirt that he appears to have DIYed himself, the sleeves chopped off in lieu of two gaping holes that let Steve see straight through from one side to the other. He’s skinny, Steve notices, the outline of his ribs accentuated by the shadows of the day, tattoos Steve has never seen before peppered up his sided. “I like that,” Steve tells him, reaching out to touch the ink etched onto the back of his arm before he can think about it long enough to stop himself.

Eddie shivers at the touch, but lifts his arm anyway, the smooth skin of his torso fully on show. “This one?” he asks.

Steve nods.

“It’s a Wyvern,” he explains, laughing softly when he sees Steve nodding. “You have no idea do y-“

“Not a clue,” Steve interrupts, grinning to himself as Eddie snorts. “It’s cool though.”

They’re quiet then as they climb into the front of Steve’s car, the soft sound of one of Robin’s mix tapes filling the space between them as they crunch over the gravel.

“Do you have any?” Eddie asks once they’re on the smooth of the main road. “Tattoos, I mean.”

Steve shaves his head. “Are you kidding? I think my old man really would kill me if I did that.” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that he isn’t sure he’s heard before. “Maybe one day.”

“Yeah,” Eddie muses. “I feel you, man.”

It’s quiet again then, a song that Steve vaguely recognises as Tears for Fears coming through the speakers.

“Hey,” he says eventually. “can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” Eddie offers, turning in his seat a little
to look at him.

“Why’d you move out here?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything then and Steve kind of panics, the silence between them deafening in a way that makes him more uncomfortable than he cares for.

“Actually, never mind, dude. Sorry, we don’t know each other well enough for me to be asking shit like that. It’s your business, not mine. Pretend that didn’t happen.” he rushes out.

“No, no. It’s-“ Eddie isn’t looking at him anymore, body turned fully so he’s staring at the trees that rush past them, almost like if he doesn’t look at Steve then he can pretend none of this is happening. He carries on though. “It’s fine. Never get to know someone if you don’t ask stuff like that, right?” he laughs but Steve can tell there’s something else behind it.

“Ed-“

“My parents came home early one day and caught me with a guy,” Eddie says, cutting Steve off. He’s playing with one of his rings, spinning it around his middle finger as he talks. “Pops was not happy. Went fucking mental. Shouting and screaming and throwing things. At me, at mom, at nothing. Told me he never wanted to see my dirty dyke face again because of course he couldn’t even get the right fucking word,” Eddie does laugh at that a little. Steve doesn’t. “so I packed a bag. Ignored the way my mom pleaded for me to stay, promised he didn’t mean it while he was still wrecking his way through the house in the background. Haven’t seen them since.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can’t do much while he’s driving but he reaches out to feel for Eddie’s thigh, giving it a quick squeeze to let him know he’s there. “and Wayne?” He doesn’t move his hand.

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, he was a fucking stab in the dark too to be honest. People are barely open about this shit now, never mind a few years ago. I had no idea how he’d react, just didn’t have anywhere else to go really. Thankfully he welcomed me with open arms, all my nuances be damned. Don’t really know what I’d have done if he hadn’t actually.” He isn’t crying but Steve can tell he isn’t far off.

“Eds, I’m so fucking sorry, man. I’m so fucking sorry but I’m so glad you felt you could tell me.”

His hand is still on Eddie’s thigh.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie places his hand on top of Steve’s, the hot heat of it almost burning through his skin. “I know how cool you were with Buckley so I figured I’d take a gamble on you being okay with me too. Now you’re not an asshole anymore.” He’s smirking now and Steve’s so fucking grateful for it.

“I try,” he says, smiling to himself when Eddie snorts.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t already know,” Eddie shrugs. There’s a coldness to his words but they’re not malicious.

He shakes his head. “Robin would never,” he reassures Eddie. “sure, she loves to talk but she knows when to keep a secret, I can promise you that.”

“Not what I meant, Harrington,” Eddie huffs. “Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, right?”

Steve tears his eyes away from the road long enough to look over at Eddie, usually a strong, commanding presence now curled up in the passenger seat of Steve’s car looking more childlike than Steve’s ever seen him. “I never bought into any of that bullshit,” Steve tells him sincerely. “Well, not for a long time now, anyway. Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever been very good at picking up on that kind of thing. Robin’s taught me a lot, sure, but I think I’m still kind of oblivious.”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah. No shit, dude.”

He pulls out a cigarette, raising his eyebrows at Steve for permission. Normally he would say no, can’t deal with the way Robin whines about the smell getting into the seats, but this time he makes an exception.

“Wait, so. Chrissy?” Steve asks, quirking an eyebrow at Eddie.

He rolls his eyes, sliding a little further down in his seat. He kicks a foot up onto the dashboard for a split second before moving it again, crossing his legs in the footwell. “I told you it was nothing,” he reminds Steve, waving his hand in dismissal. “and if I was gonna steal someone’s girl, I wouldn’t go for the fucking head jock. I may be insane but I don’t have a death wish. No, dude, she’s been buying from me. Something about some weird dreams she’s been having. I dunno, I don’t ask questions.” he shrugs and Steve makes a mental note to put that one away for later.

The leather of the diner sofa burns under Steve’s thighs as they pile into the only free booth by the window, the sun hot where it streams in through the glass. Robin slides in across from him, Max curling into her side as Eddie drops into the remaining space beside Steve.

“Hey y’all, welcome to Sunshine Diner. My names Jake and I’ll be your server today. Do you guys know what you want or do you need a few minutes to decide?”

Steve glances around the table, waits for everyone to nod before he orders. “Two strawberry vanilla milkshakes and a double chocolate for the ladies and I,” he says, gesturing around with his head. “Eddie?”

Eddie hums, and Steve can tell he’s cocking his hip even though he’s sat down. “What would you recommend?” he asks, dropping his chin onto his hand as he looks up at Jake, probably through his long fucking lashes with his big fucking eyes. Steve tries hard not to roll his eyes.

“I usually go for banana,” Jake shoots back at him solemnly, pursing his lips, seemingly oblivious to Eddie’s flirting.

He slaps his hands down onto the table, rings hitting the wood with a clank. “Cherry it is then,” Eddie announces and flashes the table a grin when he gets an eye roll from Jake.

“Coming right up,” he nods and turns on his heels to head back to the kitchen.

“You’re a menace,” Robin laughs, twisting a little in her seat so that she’s facing them both where they sit across from her, lifting her arm for Max to tuck into her side.

“I love cherry, what can I say?” Eddie winks, pulling his leg up onto the sofa. “I also love flirting with pretty boys. So sue me.” he raises his hands in mock defence.

“Some people would probably try,” Max muses, ever wise despite her young age. And then “can I like. Can I ask you about it? Is that weird?”

Steve’s mind goes back to the conversation they’d had in the car, the way Eddie’s voice had trembled just the slightest bit when he’d talked about having to keep things secret.

“About being gay?” Eddie asks and Max nods. Steve knew she knew about Robin, didn’t know she knew about Eddie. “of course, love. Anything.” His voice is quiet and soft now and Steve has to bite his tongue because he might honestly fucking cry if he doesn’t.

Max sighs, visibly relaxing, the tension that was in her shoulders seconds ago dissipating at his words. “How did you. Like, how did you know?”

“Well,” Eddie sits back in his seat, hands splayed across the table in front of him as he stares at his own fingertips. Steve pretends not to notice how the black paint on them isn’t chipped like it was on Wednesday. “I think I just, knew? I tried to pretend for a long time that I was,” he hesitates. “normal. I kissed pretty girls and I had girlfriends and I went to parties when I got invited but it just never felt. Never felt right, you know? And then one day I decided to just give it a go. Ignore what my brain was telling me I should be doing and listen to my heart for once and as soon as I kissed a boy for the first time I knew. Well, I think I knew before then but I knew for real that time.” Max nods, hanging on his every word. “but everyone is different when it comes to things like that. The way I found out will probably be different to how Robin found out and how Robin found out will be different to how someone else finds out. It’s just,” he shrugs again. “Feelings and shit.”

Max snorts. “Feelings and shit,” she nods.

Robin raises the salt shaker. “To feelings and shit,” she says. “I never bothered with boyfriends,” she admits, dropping the shaker back onto the table with a thud. “boys suck.”

“Hear, hear,” Eddie whoops, loud enough that the tables around them turn to look at him. “boys do suck, Buckley. Remember that young Max. Boys suck but they’re also really fucking great. It’s horrible.”

“I’ll try my best not to be offended,” Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I dunno if you guys are like, planning on getting a cab home or what but. Doesn’t sound like you’re gonna be coming with me.”

“Aw, is King Stevie’s big bad ego a wittle bit bwuised?” Robin mocks, reaching across the table to grab his cheek between her fingers, giggling as he swats her hand away.

“You could walk,” he threatens and Eddie laughs, slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulders, tugging him against his side, the bare skin there hot against Steve’s elbow.

“She’s harmless, Harrington. It’s the young ‘uns you have to keep an eye out for these days,” he tells them, pointing at his own eyes and then at Max. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Mayfield. Don’t think you can escape the gaze of Uncle Eddie.”

She blushes a little and, out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees their server emerge from the kitchen with a tray full of milkshakes. “I’ll be good.” she nods.

“Atta girl,” Eddie grins, and doesn’t let go.

It’s Steve and Max’s last night together so Robin decides to gatecrash and join in on their sleepover. They have a shift together in the morning anyway so it kind of makes sense.

They invite Eddie to join them too and he says he’ll stay a while. Says he to be up early, but he doesn’t say what for. Steve doesn’t ask.

Between them they spend the first half hour making a pillow fort in the lounge, pillows and cushions and sheets piled high around the room and it isn’t lost on Steve how it’s making Max smile in a way he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Hey, Rob. I think I saw some popcorn yesterday. Gimme a hand?” he asks, shooting her a look that very deliberately reads as something else.

Max and Eddie are distractedly fingering through a cardboard box full of video tapes in the corner, playfully arguing over the pros and cons of each one.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” she nods, clambering out from under one of the sofa cushions.

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as Max carries on rambling about how much she hates Dune.

“What’s up, bud?” she asks as soon as they’re out of view, eyebrow cocked concerningly. Her hand is warm and clammy where she touches it to his arm.

Steve tips his head back, scrunching his eyes shut as tight as he can. “I think I like boys,” he whispers. He’s never said it out loud before, isn’t sure how he feels about it. “I think I like boys.” he tries again, nodding as he does.

“Are you sure?” she isn’t mad. Steve had worried she might he. He doesn’t know why.

“No,” he scoffs. “maybe.”

“Well,” she’s slow and deliberate with her words, much the same way Steve had been with her when they’d had this conversation about Robin. “I’m very proud of you. Especially if you aren’t even sure how you really feel. Is this Max’s fault?” her voice is still hushed.

Steve nods. “Kind of, I guess. The questions and stuff, not actually Max obviously.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Obviously, dingus,” Her smile is warm and genuine. When is it fucking not. God, Steve loves her so much. “you wanna talk about it?”

He shrugs and slides down the cupboard door until he’s sat on the floor, legs splayed out in front of himself like a new born giraffe. “I don’t know what I want, Rob,” he admits. He hears Eddie laugh from around the corner. “or maybe I do.”

“Hey,” she’s sat on the floor next to him now, knocks her shoulder against his. “despite what the rest of the world would have you believe, you could do a hell of a lot worse than Eddie Munson.”

He groans and drops his head into his hands. “But girls, Robin,” he groans again.

“Preaching to the choir on that one, bud,” she laughs and reaches out for Steve’s hand, squeezing his fingers as she forces him to uncover his face. “you can like both, yano. It’s not a crime. Well,” she sucks her teeth. “not any more.”

Steve laughs softly. “I guess,” he nods, wincing as he lets his head fall back against the cabinet. “yeah. I guess I can.”

“You’re Steve fucking Harrington, babe magnet extraordinaire. Steve fucking Harrington who’s saved the world three times over and lived to tell the tale. Steve fucking Harrington who can like boys sometimes too if he wants because he’s a bad ass babe who doesn’t listen to anyone else,” she kisses his shoulder. “well, except for me.”

He squeezes her fingers back, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it. “Best wingman in the whole goddamn world, Buckley.”

“That’s wingwoman to you,” she corrects him, snorting when he shoves her into the cupboard door with a bang.

Eddie announces he’s leaving just after 11, Max already asleep where she’s laid out across Robin’s legs.

“Thanks for coming, man,” Robin says quietly and holds a fist out for Eddie to bump his own against, smiling softly at him when he does. “don’t forget about bringing that video back.”

He laughs under his breath, saluting her. “You got it, Buckley. Thanks for having my back earlier.”

Robin nods at him, watching as Steve pushes to his feet. “Anytime, Eddie.”

Steve follows him out, letting the screen door snick shut softly behind him. They’re stood close on the top step of the Mayfield trailer, the moon casting long shadows across Eddie’s cheeks where is shines through his eyelashes. “Thanks for today, Steve,” he says. “I had a lot of fun. It was kinda nice to hang out with you. Turns out Henderson might be right about something for once in his life.”

Steve laughs at that. “Yeah, he’s a smart kid that one,” he grins, ignoring the way he can almost feel Eddie’s breath on his lip. “hey, um. I wanted to,” Steve coughs a little to clear his throat. “I was thinking. About what you said earlier, you and Max. And I wanted to, yano. You were so open with me before I just. I think I like guys,” he rushes out. “and girls. But like, yeah. Both. I think I like both, maybe.” he explains, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure I like both.”

Eddie is silent then, for what Steve thinks might be a whole fucking eternity until he’s whispering “Proud of you, Harrington,” and pulling Steve into a hug so tight it feels like he might pop. He’s still wearing that stupid fucking cut up shirt and those tight fucking jeans and Steve can feel his tiny little waist as he wraps his own arms around him, holding onto him tight like an anchor, like he’s scared he might float away if he lets go. “really fucking proud of you.” he repeats and Steve’s whole body prickles with goosebumps.

It feels like they’ve been holding each other forever when Eddie finally lets go, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind his ear as he grins at Steve in the moonlight.

He gives Steve a final pat on the shoulder and heads off towards his own trailer with a grin and a wave.

“I was meant to have a date tonight,” he says over his shoulder, blasé, when he’s halfway down the path. “glad I cancelled it now.”

And, well. What the fuck is Steve supposed to do with that.

“I think I have to tell him,” Steve admits as he and Robin are in the middle of rewinding tapes.

She scoffs, flicking her tape off with a click. “You’re gonna tell Eddie that he’s the reason for you’re whole,” she waves her hand in his general direction. “bi-awakening?”

“Yes,” Steve says with a nod. “exactly.”

“You’re crazy,” she laughs. “crazy, Harrington.”

He sighs and hops up onto the counter, ignoring the look Robin gives him as he swings his legs, kicking the sideboard with a thud every time he does. “Look, I know you think I’ve lost my mind but I can’t take it anymore, Robin. I haven’t stopped thinking about him for days, maybe weeks if I really think about it. I wait for him to come back to his trailer every night like a creep just so he waves at me and then I fucking dream about him like a loser, like a twelve year old who’s going through their first crush. And sure, maybe I’m not his type, maybe that’s not even what I want, I just,” he takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “God, now I think I’ve talked myself out of it.”

Robin rolls her eyes and gives his knee a pat before moving to stand in front of him, resting her elbows on his knees. They’re bony and painful but Steve doesn’t care enough right now to make her move. “I wish I could help, man, I really do. But this one’s all on you, I’m afraid. I believe in you though, Steve. I really do. You’ve done this a hundred times before, just ‘cause he’s a guy doesn’t make it any different. Follow your heart.”

“Kind of is different though, isn’t it?” he scratches his head and then drops his forehead against Robin’s. “and I really haven’t done it a hundred times. I think the only person it ever mattered with was Nance.”

She shakes her head. “It’s really not, Steve. Trust me. You like him, right?” He nods. “and you liked Nancy. They’re both just people, dingus.”

He tries to ignore the way his hands are shaking a little. “It’s different because he’s Eddie and I’m just dickhead Steve. He’s cool and experienced and he had a fucking date last night, so honestly what’s the point. He’ll probably say no anyway.” he shrugs.

“But what if he doesn’t, Steve?” she counters, brows furrowed.

“But what if he does, Robin?” he fires back, voice louder than he expected, loud enough that it makes Robin take a step back. “God, what if he does,” he almost sobs. “I’d be fucking heartbroken, Rob. I don’t. I don’t fucking know what to do.”

Robin grabs him then, face smushed between her hands as she squeezes, making his lips purse together. “You listen to me, Steve Harrington. You’re gonna go over there and you’re gonna talk to him. You’re gonna tell him how you feel so you’re not moping around like a damsel in distress for the rest of your life. If he says no, he says no, and at least you know, can move on and get on with your fucking life. And if he doesn’t? Then you’re gonna get a hot rockstar boyfriend who’s gonna take you around the world when he gets famous by playing his silly little guitar songs for people. Okay?”

There isn’t even an ounce of anything other than love in her eyes and God, Steve fucking adores her.

He nods as best he can. “Okay,” he squeaks out, nods again. “Alright.”

“Great,” she says, and lets go of his face with a slap to both cheeks. “But later though, yeah? You have a shift to finish first.” she reminds him, laughing when he groans and head-buts the counter in frustration.

“I have a crush on you,” is the first thing that falls out of Steve’s mouth when Eddie opens the door and, shit. That was not how this was meant to go.

“Hello Steve,” Eddie says, eyebrow quirked as he smirks at Steve. He’s slightly higher up than Steve from where he stands inside the doorway and Steve has to crick his neck a little to look up at him. He tries not to think about it too much.

“Hi, sorry. That was-“ he coughs. “hi.”

“You wanna come inside?”

Steve’s brows furrow. “Do you want me to come inside?” he asks.

“I-“ Eddie looks at him, perplexed. “Yeah, no man. I just invited you in for a fucking joke. Why wouldn’t I want you to come inside, ass hat.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, closes it before he says something he regrets and steps inside wordlessly.

This is the first time he’s seen the inside of the Munson trailer, he realises, isn’t sure what he expected but doesn’t think this is it. It’s all faded patterns and muted browns and old photos on the wall. Ones of Eddie and of Wayne and of the two of them together through the years. The scent of old weed and cigarette smoke lingers heavy in the air. It’s kind of nice.

“You want like, I dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “want a drink?”

“God, no. Eddie,” Steve huffs and rubs his temples. “no, I don’t want a fucking drink, Jesus.”

“I’m gonna be honest here, dude. I don’t really know the protocol on this one. I’ve never had anyone turn up on my doorstep to declare their undying love for me,” he shrugs. “kind of new to me.”

“I didn’t,” Steve closes his eyes for a second, cocking his head. “I didn’t declare my undying love for you.”

It’s not lost on Steve that they’re both just stood in the middle of the lounge, staring at each other like they’re strangers and this is. Well, it’s not exactly how Steve imagined this would go.

“You kind of did,” Eddie muses, that stupid gorgeous smirk still on his lips.

“Oh my, God. Eddie. I’m losing my fucking mind over here. Can you like,” he jiggles his hands in Eddie’s general direction. “say something, maybe?”

“I uh,” Eddie squints at him. “I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that Steve Harrington, the Steve Harrington, has a crush on me, Eddie Munson. Huh.”

Steve vaguely registers that there’s a sofa somewhere behind him. He takes the risk and lets himself fall back towards it, not really caring whether he actually makes it or not right now. He does, which is good news for his ass, but him hitting the deck would’ve at least made them change subject.

Looks like feelings it is.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Munson. You’re not the first. I made out with Tommy H behind the bleachers in junior year “ Steve admits, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes widen. “I mean, sure. I might’ve told him I’d beat him half to death if anyone found out but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”

Steve feels like he’s going to suffocate. Like he’s wearing too many clothes and not enough all at once. Like his lungs are full of something that isn’t fucking air with the way Eddie is looking at him.

“Wow,” he tuts, sucking his teeth a little. “who’da thought it. Steve Harrington, bi-king of Hawkins High.”

Steve shakes his head, breaking their gaze. “Don’t, Eddie. This isn’t a fucking joke, okay.”

Eddie’s quiet then, and Steve can still feel him staring. “I know.” he says eventually, so quiet it’s almost lost over the hum of the refrigerator.

“This was stupid, I should go.” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair as he makes to push himself up off the sofa, stopping when he feels Eddie’s hand firm and heavy on his shoulder.

Their eyes meet. “Stay,” Eddie says and Steve lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding in, chest falling as he relaxes back against the sofa cushions behind him.

Eddie’s towering over him now, eyes big and dark as he stares down at Steve. His hair is falling in his face a little with the way he has to tilt his head down to look at him and, for the first time since he arrived, Steve allows him to look at Eddie properly. Notices that Eddie is just in boxers and a vest as if Steve had disturbed him in the middle of the night and not 4pm on a Saturday afternoon, his fingers bare of his usual imposing jewellery, eyes free of the liner that’s usually smudged beneath them.

He keeps watching as Eddie slowly drops to his knees in front of Steve, eyes level as they both drink each other in silently.

“You know,” Eddie says, his voice so deep and thick that it makes Steve shiver. “I’m kind of jealous Tommy H beat me to it.” he admits and then his lips are on Steve’s before he even has time to register what’s going on.

Steve can’t even help the way he moans into Eddie’s mouth, their lips moving slow and wet and languid against each other like they have all the time in the world. Eddie’s fingers are firm and insistent on the nape of his neck, curling into Steve’s hair like he’s as desperate for this as Steve is, his other hand thumbing over the pudge of Steve’s hip, the bit that spills over the top of his jeans that Steve is usually self conscious about.

His own hands are reaching out without him even having to think about it, touching Eddie anywhere he can reach, his arms and his shoulders and his face, touching him all over until he starts to wander up under Eddie’s vest, fingers dancing over his ribs and his waist, skin hot under Steve’s fingertips.

“You tryna kill me, Harrington?” Eddie whispers against his lips as he pulls away, breath laboured as he rests his forehead against Steve’s.

He smirks, leaning forward to steal another quick kiss. “Not yet,” Steve’s says back quietly. “wanna kiss you some more first.” he almost growls, smirking at the moan that falls from Eddie’s lips.

The air around them is still and quiet, the hum from the kitchen and their laboured breathing the only sounds Steve can hear.

“You know,” Steve starts. His hands are still on Eddie’s waist under his vest, stroking at the skin there without even thinking about it. “I’d kind of convinced myself you were gonna laugh me out of town when I was on the way over here. May or may not have had a full blown argument with Rob about whether or not this was a good idea.”

He can feel Eddie smile against his lips when he kisses him again, smiling himself when Eddie takes his face between his hands. He’s quiet for a second, staring at Steve with something Steve doesn’t recognise in his eyes, thumbs softly stroking at the space below Steve’s eyes. “Has everyone ever turned down Steve Harrington before?”

“No one that mattered.” Steve tells him quietly.

“God,” Eddie groans, lips wet when he presses them against Steve’s. “you really are gonna be the fucking death of me, Steve Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t end up leaving Eddie’s trailer that night, calling Robin from Eddie’s phone later in the evening to cancel the plans they’d made, rolling his eyes with a laugh when Robin goes on a rant about how she’d told him it was pointless to arrange anything when she knew that this was exactly what would end up happening anyway.

They eat pizza and drink beer and smoke weed together, Eddie is his cute little PJ set up that he’d been in when Steve had arrived, Steve in just his boxers and a pair of Eddie’s joggers that are slightly too small for him. Eddie is shameless with the way he ogles Steve’s ass, doesn’t even pretend that that’s not the reason he lent him his joggers and Steve doesn’t even pretend not to love it.

They talk and touch and kiss until the world outside is pitch dark and the noises of the nighttime are spilling in through the gaps in the windows. Somewhere in the middle of it all Wayne comes home and finds them cuddled up on the sofa, goes about his day with a soft smile before he’s disappearing again, leaving them alone once more.

Somewhere around midnight they manage to drag themselves into Eddie’s bedroom, the two of them not even wanting to be apart long enough to make it under the covers. Eddie’s duvet is scratchy against Steve’s back but his arms are so, so warm that he can’t bring himself to care. There’s a slight breeze coming in through the windows that’s making Eddie’s hair brush against Steve’s shoulder, the movement of it tickling the crook of his neck.

“You know,” Eddie eventually says into the darkness. “I’m kinda glad you came over.”

Steve smiles and turns a little in his arms. One of Eddie’s arms is around his shoulder, their fingers interlaced atop Eddie’s belly, his toes cold where he warms them against Steve’s calves. “Yeah, me too, I guess.”

Eddie snorts and drops a kiss to Steve’s head. “Guess Robin really knows what she’s talking about when it comes to feeling and shit, huh?”

It’s hot and cold all at once in Eddie’s room, goosebumps prickling at Steve’s skin wherever Eddie is touching him. He knows that this, this whole thing, the two of them, he knows it’s early and new and fresh and there’s so much they still need to talk about but right now, here in Eddie’s room, in his bed, in his arms, Steve doesn’t give a fuck about any of it. Thinks he could probably take on the world with Eddie by his side.

For now though, he just smiles and drops a kiss to Eddie’s chest. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “feelings and shit.”