Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Alright, Steve, I’ve had enough,” Tommy says. They’re smoking under the bleachers, their hands cupped against the harsh October wind. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you always so weird around Munson?”

“I’m not weird around Munson!” Steve protests. He’s not! He’s just nervous when Munson’s around, that’s all. 

Like, sure, Steve will trip over his words, or he’ll find himself fumbling with whatever’s in his hands, and God forbid Munson actually talks to him - alright, yeah, he’s admittedly a little bit weird around the other guy.

But it’s not Steve’s fault. Munsons’ the weird one, here, with his board games and epic lunchroom debates that definitely don’t make Steve sweat. Steve just - maybe wants to be friends with him?

Steve gets jealous every time Munson talks to his little nerd club friends, every time he leans in close or grabs them or sticks his tongue out at them. So Steve must want to be his friend because that’s the only thing that makes any kind of sense. He doesn’t know why he’s so invested in the local metalhead, but, you know what, Steve can have diverse interests. Steve’s a normal, perfectly average, regular guy, so the way he feels must be normal, perfectly average, and regular.

“Right,” Tommy drawls. “Steve, come on, just talk to me, man. What’d he do?”

“Exist, I guess. I don’t know: I think I just like him.” 

“You like him?”

“Yeah?” Steve knows that being friends with a guy like Eddie wouldn’t help his rep at all but Tommy doesn’t have to make it sound like that . The guy’s just a big dweeb.

“Jesus Christ.” Tommy scrubs a hand through his hair. “Okay. I can fix this.”

“Fix - Tommy, it doesn’t need to be fixed. I’m not about to go and be his best friend or anything, come on, it’s fine.” 

Tommy throws his smoke on the ground and stomps on it. “You’ll see, Steve. I’ll fix it.”

Steve is not a regular, perfectly average, normal guy. He didn’t know just how weird he was back then, but oh is he ever aware of it now.

For example; he works at the ice cream store with a completely idiotic nautical theme at the mall because he’s too stupid to get into Tech. 

For example; he kills monsters in his spare time.

For example; he babysits a bunch of teenagers for free .

For example; Eddie Munson works at the record store right across from the Scoops Ahoy and Steve is obsessed with him.

That last one? Might be the most important, forget all that other shit. 

So, Steve’s stupid. Everyone knows this. His parents know it, his ex knows it, his friends know, even Steve knows it. But he always thought that, while he might not know much about the world, he at least had a firm grasp of social situations. 

Was he ever wrong about that. It is very not normal to spend literally the entirety of high school just constantly wanting to hold another dude’s hand. Who could have guessed? Not Steve! 

But the last few years have given him ample opportunity for things like growth, change, and, oh, yeah, revelations of a homosexual nature. It turns out that when your life is constantly on the line you start wondering if maybe you shouldn’t just kiss that cute guy.

Steve got that understanding pretty much the second he left high school, and while in retrospect he’s liked plenty of other guys none of those crushes have lasted the way that Eddie has. He sort of hoped that once he was out of the halls of Hawkins High he wouldn’t ever have to think about Eddie Munson ever again. 

Obviously, he’s being tortured by some kind of higher power for his past misdeeds. It’s the only logical explanation for the fact that Steve’s crush, the guy that he literally cannot ever act normal in front of, gets a front-row seat to watch him fumble flirtation after flirtation. Like, how is he supposed to prove he can be a good date if he can’t even get a girl’s number?

Ugh. It’s Steve’s own fault for never figuring out how to be smooth with people he really likes. The same thing happened with Nancy: he always turned into an idiot in front of her, saying dorky things and giving her stupid smiles instead of coy smirks and great lines. 

“Why don’t you just say hi to him?”

Steve jumps, his heart taking a running leap out of his chest and bringing the rest of his body along with it.

“Hi! Robin! Uh, how long have you been standing there?” How long has she been watching him sigh over Eddie’s tattoos, which are currently on display because he’s not wearing a jacket for once, praise the heavens and curse their name.

“Long enough.” She folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Seriously. Go talk to him, I promise he’s not that scary.”

“But -”

“No! No buts!”

“I can’t,” he whines. “I know you think I’m a total dingus, and I am, but I swear I’m worse when I’m around him .”

“Ugh. You’re such a loser: fine, I’ll help you.”

Steve perks up. “Really?” 

Robin nods. “Really, really. Okay, so, first step: introducing yourself. Here’s what you’re going to do. Are you ready?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Steve salutes her.

“That’s what I like to hear. You march over there right now, you stick your hand out and you say, ‘Hi, my name is Steve. What’s your name?’”

“But…” Steve frowns. “I know his name already.”

“Missing the point here, Harrington. You just need to give yourself an opening! The rest will come. Now, go on. And remember: be yourself.”

Steve doesn’t want to be himself. Himself is an idiot that makes bad life choices. 

But introducing himself sounds reasonable enough. Steve can do that. Yeah! He’s a cool guy and he’s done all kinds of scary stuff. If he can punch Billy Hargrove right in his stupid cocky mouth, then he can say hi to Eddie Munson.

He walks across the mall, twenty paces, and opens the door to the record store.

Eddie clearly goes to the Robin school of customer service: he glances up at Steve, grunts, and goes back to reading his magazine. Steve can feel sweat forming on his arms. He should just go back to Scoops now.

No! Steve’s not a coward: he’s got to see this through.

He clears his throat and sticks his hand out. “Eddie, right? I’m Steve, I work across the way. It’s nice to meet you!” Was that too enthusiastic? Oh well, too late to change it now.

Eddie looks at Steve’s hand the way Steve looks at snakes. “Right.” He flips a page in his magazine and leans back in his chair, ignoring Steve entirely.

Steve has literally never been more embarrassed in his life . “Okay,” he manages, his throat dry. “I’ll, uh, catch you later?” 

No acknowledgment. Great, wonderful, this has gone so well . Steve turns tail and runs back to Scoops like there’s a Demogorgon behind him. 

He doesn't even say anything to Robin. He just bangs his head against the wall, twice, and resigns himself to being miserable and single forever.

Chapter Text

Eddie hates Steve Harrington. 

This is a fact, an undeniable truth that remains present with him as it had ever since sophomore year when the kid had the nerve to grow out of middle school. It’s still there, in the back of his mind thudding away like a dull headache that never seemed to pass. That’s what Harrington is: headache inducing. Logically it should have been cathartic to watch him strike out with any and every girl his age that happened to want ice cream that afternoon, yet instead it’s just embarrassing. 

Topping off that painful sundae, his uniform is…well it’s awful, to put it frankly, nothing on that shirt flattered him and the hat is honest to god atrocious… but those (almost sinfully) short shorts he had to wear every shift provides a singular upside to him being there. 

What? He has eyes. He uses them. Sue him. 

Now, the worst part of all this is that the guy actually notices him. Eddie has a rather nasty habit of people watching–it was why he got the job in the first place, outside of needing to lay low for a few months when Hopper suddenly decided to do his job. He could watch all the customers and not talk to a single one of them, his coworker’s always on the floor and he’s perfectly mastered the ability to check someone out at the register without saying a damn word. 

Yet, when he occasionally looks outside the store, when the place is empty or nobody interesting is there, Steve always seems to stare back. 

He’s apparently made a mistake glancing that way today–as the guy starts gossiping about him to his coworker. The girl is rolling her eyes and shoving him out of the store, pushing him to do…something. That thing only became clear once Steve made his way over to the store front. 

“Eddie, right? I’m Steve, I work across the way. It’s nice to meet you!”

He’s holding his hand out, introducing himself as if they hadn’t been classmates for the past four years, as if everyone in this god forsaken town didn’t know his name. Eddie scrunches up his nose at the gesture and turns away. 

“Right.” 

“Ok uh…I’ll…catch you later?” 

Jesus Christ. He’s even more headache inducing up close. What is this? Some sort of dare? Five bucks to talk to the local freak for more than two minutes? Ten if you can get the guy to fucking respond? Like he needs the money anyway. 

He looks genuinely dejected while turning back to the ice cream store. Bangs his head against the wall a few times and frowns when Robin draws yet another line on the ‘You Suck’ side of her white board. Huh. He didn’t think that interaction would count. 

“Hey–no. No. There is nothing you can say that will convince me to–” 

“Oh come on. ” A red headed girl, followed by three other boys, all appearing to be about middle school age. Maybe freshman at the most. “This is what–the fifth time we’ve asked you to do this and you cave every time. You don’t need to defend your pride anymore.” 

Damn. Brutal. 

“Oh yea, because asking like that is really going to convince me.” Steve narrows his eyes and puts his hands on his hips, a very manly mom-pose. “What movie would you even want to watch anyway? You’ve already binged all the nerdy ones out in theaters.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

 Steve goes silent for a moment, the two studying the other’s every move. “Definitely not.” 

“But–”

“No!” One of the boys is cut off the second they speak, the one in the bandanna. “I’m not dealing with calls on the emergency channel at two am because you all decided to theater hop horror movies all day.” 

Emergency channel? What the hell is that about?

“What? We’re not five.” 

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy, the lanky one in an eye-bleeding yellow t-shirt. “Of course not, and you won’t break into my house in the dead of night like you did last time I let you watch horror. Because you’re not five.” 

He keeps going back and forth, though something in Eddie tells him it’s all for show–at least it is for a while, until Steve’s eyes drift over to one member of the group specifically, one that hasn’t said a word. The kid picks at his sleeve, long even though it’s a good eighty degrees outside, then shivers for some weird reason. 

“Fucking hell–hold on.” 

Steve then walked away from the counter, took the boy in question's hand and pulled him into the back room. He could vaguely hear talking from the other side of the room, his coworker initially loudly complaining about him going in the back when he’s supposed to be working, then what he assumed was likely a more quiet conversation. 

Then, after a minute, the boy walks out wearing Steve’s letterman jacket. Hawkin’s ‘85 plain and visible on his now more relaxed shoulders. 

“Make sure everyone in the party agrees on your outing before you ask, then I’ll think about it.” Instant complaints. “And…if you manage to keep yourselves busy till the end of my shift I’ll drive you to the arcade.” 

This time, not a damn word from any of them. The group nods and walks off, the smaller boy glancing back at him and smiling, turning back to the others and tugging the jacket tighter around him, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. The girl glances between the two then whispers something into the boy’s ear, only making him hide in the jacket further. 

Hm. Interesting. 

“Alright dingus, I’m back from break. Not that you did any work while I was gone–” 

The woman cuts herself off, meeting his eyes. Shit. He’d been staring too long. 

She winks.

Chapter Text

Robin looks really smug for some reason after he sends the kids off. Like a cat that got the canary, ate it, and then got one of the canary’s little friends, too.

“What’s that face for?” 

She leans her head on his shoulder and points across the mall.

Eddie’s got his head buried in his magazine. Again . So what?

“Oh, wow, he’s really riveted in Rolling Stone or whatever,” Steve deadpans.

“He was looking over here just a second ago and he got embarrassed when I noticed.”

“Okay, and?” Steve doesn’t get why that’s a big deal. The kids make a lot of noise - it would be weirder if Eddie didn’t look. 

She sighs. “Sometimes, Steven, I truly despair of you.”

“Don’t call me Steven.”

Steve has very few boundaries, but that’s one of them: he’s no fucking Steven . Ugh, it makes him sound so old, like he’s a middle-aged lawyer with a practice in Vermont and a vacation home in Florida. But not cool Florida, old-people Florida. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “you’re just gonna have to explain, Robin, because I don’t get it.”

“It means that he’s interested . We can work with that.”

Steve turns his back on the record store and props his hip against the counter. “What are you thinking?”

“He has a problem with you, not me. I’ll be your wingman.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up. Robin doesn’t mean it like that. There’s no universe where she means it like that - she’s just making a funny joke. If she knew that Steve was maybe slightly a little bit gay she’d run for the hills. 

“A friendship wingman? Come on, Robin, that’ll make me look like a total loser.” 

“You’re already a loser, loser.” She jerks her head to the board, where six damning tallies lie on the You Suck column. 

She makes a good point. Hell, it’s not like things can get any worse: he’s been striking out all summer long and it’s going to keep happening as long as he has this stupid crush on Eddie. Which is going to be forever at this rate. 

“Fine. I’m in.”

“Great!” She grabs his elbow and drags him across the mall.

“Robin,” he hisses, “what do you think you’re doing ?” Steve’s already fumbled this interaction once today, he’s not exactly looking forward to round two.

“Helping you,” she hisses back. “Hi, there! I’m Robin, this is Steve. I know he looks like a total dingus - and, trust me, he is - but he’s not completely awful. That’s a Robin Buckley guarantee.”

Eddie glances up at her. “U-huh. And is that guarantee only at select participating franchises?”

What? 

“No, it’s at all of our locations year-round.”

What ?

Eddie drops the magazine entirely. “And how much is this guarantee, exactly?”

“Completely free,” Robin grins. 

“Well, I do like free.”

Steve’s glad to know that they can flirt with each other. Yes, watching this is just fantastic, Steve has no issues whatsoever. Incidentally, he would love to wiggle his way out of Robin’s claw-grip and find a nice hole to die in. 

“Don’t we all?”

Eddie grins back. “Alright, I’ll bite.” His eyes land on Steve, which, oh, God. Those eyes are so big and dark and lovely and Steve’s brain is so very, very empty.

“Dingus,” Robin whispers, “ do something.” 

The literal only thing his brain can process right now is the fact that Eddie’s looking at him. Steve keeps thinking he’s looking at me again and again like a dog chasing its own tail. 

“Uh. Why?” 

Oh, that was way too loud. Steve winces. Robin facepalms. Eddie cackles. 

“You’re so dumb ,” she groans. “I’m sorry, Eddie, he’s… kind of like this all the time, I really don’t have an excuse. Seriously, Steve, are you braindead?”

“Aw, don’t be mean - look, you can actually see the gears turning. I think you need some oil in there, buddy.” 

Buddy buddy buddy .

“Haha,” Steve manages weakly. “Yeah, for sure.” 

“Whatever.” Robin rolls her eyes. “So, anyway, do you have any Alternative Radio?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Alternative Radio? Not my style, but I can respect it. We’ve got a few things if you wanna take a look.” 

He leads her over to the records. They stand chatting for a good long while, laughing at each other’s jokes, and Eddie keeps touching Robin, patting her shoulder or slinging his arm around her back.

Steve hates his fucking life. 

Eventually, Robin buys an album from some band Steve’s never heard of. Eddie rings her up at the register.

“Thanks, Eddie. I’ll stop by again soon. Say bye, Steve.”

“Bye, Steve,” Steve repeats. He’s not even trying to be funny - he doesn’t have enough brainpower for that right now.

Eddie laughs. Actually laughs, not the bullshit half-hearted chuckle people usually force out when Steve makes a stupid joke. 

“Real cute, Harrington. See you, Robin.”

Steve doesn’t even care that he’s been last-named while Robin gets to be Robin. He made Eddie laugh. Eddie called him cute! Well, sort of, but a win is a win. 

Robin wheels on him the second they get back to Scoops. 

“What is wrong with you?” 

Isn’t that the million-dollar question? 

Steve’s sort-of-gay. Half-gay? He’s not sure what the word is - or if there even is a word in the first place. He’s stupid. He’s got a crazy, mixed-up brain that sees monsters prowling in the dark when nothing’s there. He wanders around the woods with a baseball bat in the middle of the night on a regular basis. He’s a little bit broken, maybe, but he kind of always has been.

“Robin, if I knew what was wrong with me do you really think that I’d be working here ?” 

“Fair. Okay, fine, I - I can work with this. I can! Maybe you just need to be exposed to him a little more and eventually you’ll get your act together.”

Steve frowns down at her. “Are you sure that you don’t want to hang out with him? It’s fine if you do,” liar, “you don’t need to use me as an excuse.”

“Steve. Look at me. Stop being dumb, alright? It’s just the two of us, you can act normal now.”

“I’m just saying, you looked really cozy with him. Hey, maybe I could wingman for you: you guys could bond over how stupid I am.” 

Robin shudders. “Ew, he is so not my type.” Her eyes land behind Steve. “Shit.” 

“What?”

“Look who’s here.”

Steve turns. Erica Sinclair stands at the counter with a shit-eating smile and her many little friends in tow.

Steve doesn’t have favorites, but, well, if he’s not lying to himself, Lucas is definitely in the top three. He’s kind, he’s empathetic, he’s fantastic at managing Dustin and Max when they get into a squabble, he’s loyal, and he’s the only one of the kids who talks to Steve about sports. Erica, on the other hand, is a demon invented specifically to torment Steve. 

Robin’s already disappeared into the back - never let it be said that she won’t abandon Steve to the actual customer service part of their job. A line is already forming behind Erica: little kids, entitled teens, and bossy parents stretch out the door. He groans.

It’s going to be a long shift.

Chapter Text

“Ahoy Sailors!”

Eddie watches as Robin’s carefully forced customer service smile cracks and slips away, replaced by a long dramatic groan she allows to escape her lips. At first, he’s worried that she really doesn’t want to see him, but her shoulders are relaxed, she smiles not too long after.

“Just one sailor today, Munson.” She says with a wry grin. “Today is Steve’s singular day off.”

“A blessing, truly.” He pauses and scrunches up his nose. “Wait–singular?”

“Yea—I looked at his schedule this week and it’s nothing but eight to ten hour shifts everyday but this one.”

Eddie scrunches up his nose further. Even his schedule had less hours than that. “Seriously? There’s no way anyone could force me into that uniform more than three days a week. Or at all.”

“He said he needed the money or something.”

Eddie scoffs. “Or something.”

“Speaking of which…shouldn’t you be working…?”

“Oh! I’m on break.” Eddie lugs his lunchbox onto the counter with a loud clang. “Permission to break into your backroom?”

“Permission granted. Danny! I’m taking my thirty—it's your turn to man the trenches.”

Eddie snorts and makes his way to the back, hopping over the little door instead of just pushing through it, then plops down in a chair in the backroom while waiting for Robin to grab her own food.

“Oh,” She smiles, a sort of sly grin while setting down her food across from him, sitting so that her sneaker was propped against the top of the table. “That’s an um…interesting way to wear a bandanna.”

Eddie’s eyes flick down to her sneakers, smiling as well, seeing the writing and crude drawings scattered over it. “You checkin out my ass, Buckley?”

“Naturally.”

He rolls his eyes, then lets out a long and loud groan. “This is gonna sound awful but fuck I wish you were working all those shifts instead of him.”

“That is literally the worst thing you could have said to me.” Her tone is a joking deadpan, but she pauses after, and the frown is genuine. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stand him, obviously. And while I work a reasonable 9-5, five days a week schedule, I’m still gonna see him all the time.”

“Well—hate to break it to you, but I can only handle six hours at a time, and I need at least a three-day recovery period.”

Again, a disingenuous laugh, covering up discomfort. For Harrington, of all people. Weird.

“Boo, you whore.” He sticks out his tongue for good measure, happy at how it instantly changes the mood back. “So…Alternative Radio?”

“Are you really trying to talk about your job during your break?”

“I like music.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you were the only person who didn’t ask me about like…Wham or Madonna.”

“What’s the point? Just stay in the mall for more than twenty minutes and one of their songs will play.”

“If I hear Take on Me one more time I swear to god–” Eddie grabs his hair and tugs at it a bit, letting out a deranged but quiet cry.

Robin barely gets a chance to react to this, loud, barely contained laughter cut off by him immediately returning to normal, leaning across the table and letting his arms stretch out.

“So, why’d you decide to put up with this torture?”

She takes a moment to catch her breath, clears her throat–pauses, to laugh again–then finally manages to speak. “What else for? The money.”

“No shit, I mean what are you gonna use it for? Car, trinkets, more music that isn’t complete dogshit?”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Well, first off, I’m never driving in my life. I refuse. I’d literally rather die.”

“Wh–”

“The trinkets…yeah that’ll probably happen. And the music. But that’s not what this is for!” She sighs. “I’m uh…trying to get into college out of state.”

“Oh? What for?”

“Linguistics. I could probably get into a college in Indiana fine but…personally I’d like to get as far away from here as possible as soon as possible. Maybe even flee the whole damned country if tips are good enough.” Her eyes flick up from the food she’s picking at. “How about you?”

“Buckley, it’ll be a miracle if I even graduate next year.”

“Next year? I thought you were…”

“A senior? Yep. As I was the year prior, too. Unlike you I’m not a genius in all of language–”

“I only know like. Three.”

“I only know like, three.” His voice is a higher pitch, a horrible rendition of her voice. “You’re just proving my point here.”

“Ok, let’s say you do graduate, though. What then?”

“Then…” Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “What languages do you know anyways?”

Robin stays quiet for a minute. He isn’t exactly being slick about the topic change, but they really don’t know each other that well, both being complete and utter outcasts aside. They’re not at that point yet.

“Spanish, French, and Italian.”

“You actually survived Spanish? Without Mrs. Garcia attempting to crucify you?”

“I was her favorite student, actually.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d have to be the only student she didn’t want to maim, actually.”

Robin laughs, and for a moment it seems he really did manage to maintain that lighthearted air, to avoid the more serious air that keeps leaking in. Then she sighs. “Eddie, I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Huh?”

“We should…meet up in the library or something. I’ll get you through Spanish class.”

He gives her a nervous smile; the subjects never brought up again.

Chapter Text

One day a week is not enough time off, especially not when his supposedly free day is ruled by the demands of Hawkins’ most stubborn group of children. Steve spent the literal entire day wrangling the children at the pool while Hargrove tried to explode him with his mind or some shit from the pool chair and now he has to roll into work as if he’s rested and recovered and not dog-tired. 

It’s his own fault: he never once took school seriously and now he’s been cut off, probably for good. No allowance, no trust fund, no college fund, not even his bank account; his dad took Steve for everything he was worth. He’s got the Beemer and he still lives in the house and that’s about it - everything else is up to him.

At least he has somewhere to live. At least he has a shower and cold house and a bed to sleep in, even if he mostly sleeps hungry these days. Food is so expensive. 

It could always be worse. At least he can eat as much free ice cream as he wants, and usually, the guys that work at the Chinese place will slide him a few cartons of fried rice as long as he gives them a couple of pints of U.S.S Butterscotch.

Nobody exactly knows he’s been cut off, but who would he even tell? His only friends are a bunch of children he’s not about to give them his financial sob story. 

Whatever. He puts on the uniform - embarrassing - and fixes the hat on his head - murderous - and opens Scoops for the day.

Without Robin, the day is a haze of endless work. Replace the tubs of Rocky Road, clean out the Bubblegum, serve snot-nosed kid after snot-nosed kid, get yelled at by someone twenty years older than him for giving them a slightly-too small scoop or whatever it is they’re mad about today, go on break and watch Danny sweat at the counter, mop up the back, daydream about Eddie’s everything when the flood slows. God, he’s so fucking bored.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil. Eddie Munson is leaning on the counter, looking maybe half as bored out of his mind as Steve himself. 

Okay. This is his moment . He can be normal. He can be so very normal. Showtime.

“Ahoy there!” 

He barely restrains himself from bashing his head into the counter.

“Is Buckley in?”

“Oh, she’s out today, sorry. You can ask her for her schedule the next time she’s in. But, uh, is there anything that I can do for you?” Nailed it! He definitely didn’t make that sound like a sex thing. Just normal customer service stuff, Steve definitely doesn’t want to be railed in the storage room even a little bit.

“Nope.”

Eddie Munson takes himself off the counter and swirls around to leave. Steve can feel his shot at this slipping through his fingers.

“Wait! I can’t get you an ice cream or anything? Free of charge, man, no matter what.”

That’ll hurt his wallet - it comes out of his paycheck, but Steve can’t bring himself to care much. What’s another night of plain pasta compared to actually managing a conversation with Eddie?

“Not interested,” Eddie shoots over his shoulder.

“But - U.S.S Butterscotch! Or maybe I could get you a drink? We have New Coke.” 

Nobody likes New Coke. Well, except for Lucas, but Lucas doesn’t count. Fuck, he may as well throw this whole conversation into a trash fire.

Eddie turns on his heel and marches back up to the counter. 

“Actually, there is one thing.”

“Uh-huh?” Anything, literally anything at all, all Eddie has to do is name it.

“Just answer one question for me: why don’t you drop the fucking act, Harrington?”

“What act?” There’s no act. Steve wishes that there was an act because at least then he’d have an excuse for his general stupidity.

“The whole nice-guy thing. It’s just us chickens: no hot girls or adorable kids in sight. You can stop pretending anytime you want, because I’m not fooled.”

“Oh.” 

Steve gets it now. Eddie, like everyone else in Hawkins that hasn’t seen a Demogorgan face-to-face, thinks that Steve dropped the whole King thing for fun or convenience or whatever it is people are saying these days. 

“I’m not that guy anymore,” Steve says, trying his very best to be convincing. “What you see is what you get, man.” Awful uniforms, bad jokes, nightmares and all.

“Bullshit.”

Steve’s heart plummets. For a bitter second, he’s in a bathroom in 1984 and the girl he loves is telling him she never once loved him back. 

“You’re telling me,” Eddie continues, “that ‘King ’ Steve Harrington wants to make friends with me ? That’s bullshit. Absolute bullshit. You’re up to something.” He leans further on the counter, putting nearly his entire body weight on it, his face so close to Steve’s that he can feel the warm air of Eddie’s breathing. “You and Hagan got some sort of plan, yeah? Trick me into going to the quarry with you by myself so you two can, what, kick the shit out of me?”

Hagan? As in Tommy Hagan? Steve hasn’t said a single word to him in nearly two years and they’ve been on the outs since the world turned Upside Down. 

“I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.”

“Sure, sure, that’s why he’s always going on about you, because you two aren’t friends . Honestly, Harrington, you need to get somebody to teach you how to lie well.”

“Tommy doesn’t talk about me?” When would Tommy do that? Why would Tommy do that? He hasn’t seen Tommy except in passing since they graduated, why the hell would Tommy waste his time gossiping about Steve Harrington of all people?

“He talked about you yesterday . All, ‘can’t Harrington get new swim trunks, doesn’t he realize how desperate it makes him look’, yadda yadda yadda.”

Steve can’t remember anything about the pool except his desperate attempts to keep the little assholes from drowning each other, choking on popsicles, or getting sunburns. Tommy might have been there. Maybe? Fuck if he knows.

His swim trunks are pretty small for him. He spent a lot of yesterday picking at them where they cut into his thighs. Steve might be going hungry more often than not, but everything he does eat is a mess of calories and sugar and God only knows what else. It’s exactly the kind of food he stayed away from in high school because he couldn’t afford to lose his streamlined swim figure, but now he has no choice.

“He’s making fun of me, Eddie. You know, like a dick? Because he sucks ?” Steev really can’t overemphasize that point enough. “Anyway, I know I was kind of an asshole to you with all the ‘Freak’ stuff, and I’m sorry about that, but where the hell are you getting ‘beat the shit out of you at the Quarry’ from?”

Steve’s one point of pride in high school is that he never once got physical, Jonathan Byers and Billy Hargrove excepted. He never punched anyone, he never shoved anyone, and he sure as shit wasn’t the kind of guy that would take someone to a secluded place just to beat their ass inside-out.

“Just ‘cause you never got your hands dirty doesn’t mean you didn’t order it. That’s what Kings do, right? They delegate .”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Eddie leans back and brushes himself off. His glare is so fierce it could melt all the ice cream in Scoops. 

“Why don’t you ask your old buddy?”

Eddie marches back into Legacy Vinyl without a second glance. Steve frowns after him. He knows Tommy was a dick to Eddie - Steve would have to be blind, deaf, stupid, and on another planet to miss that . But nothing ever went too far - Steve was always careful to keep Tommy reigned in on stuff like that. Spray-painted lockers and egged homes? Fine, whatever. But if Tommy wanted to swirlie somebody he damn well needed to justify it and Tommy never once asked Steve about doing anything to Eddie.

Which leaves Steve with two options. 

Option the first: Eddie’s lying. That doesn’t make total sense to Steve; he gets the feeling that Eddie’s the kind of person that never lies. 

Option the second: Tommy was lying. That checks out since Tommy is, was, and probably always will be a complete and total asshole. 

So Tommy probably did something extra shitty to Eddie without ever telling Steve, and now Eddie thinks that Steve ordered it. 

Fine . 

Steve has a bit of an uphill climb here. So what? All he has to do is prove to Eddie that he’s not who he used to be, that he can change, and then maybe, just maybe, they can be something like friends. Maybe, just maybe, Steve could casually ask if those rumors about Eddie are true, and, by the way, would he like to come over to Steve’s house sometime?

That’s possible. Steve doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, exactly, but it can definitely be done. He managed to convince Jonathan Byers to be his sort-of-friend; he can figure out how to get Eddie to like him.

Chapter Text

Eddie does end up looking into Robin’s schedule. He stops by for his lunch break–not so strategically sneaking glances to see if she’d arrived yet–and gets a peak at it. And, again true to his word, makes a point to only appear when she’s on shift, and a further point to glare Steve’s way anytime it’s just the two of them working. 

To put it plainly, Eddie hates his guts, and no amount of Robin’s comments on the man’s staring problem would change that fact. It’s staring with violent intentions. Intentions for brutality and belittlement and definitely not an interest in him in a friendly manner, or even... 

Steve quickly cuts himself off, slapping himself lightly before returning back to his actual god damn job. Which he should really be doing right now, as Robin immediately tells him. 

“Earth to dingus, customers in need of attendance.” She jokes, waving a hand in his face with an amused smile. 

“What Buckley means to say is that his highness needs to exit his own personal plane of reality and re-enter that of the commoners.” His face, equally amused, speaking with a bit of flourish just for added drama. “I know work is hard, but you really should give it a shot.”

And this is the worst part of Eddie and Robin’s newfound friendship. Eddie has a nasty habit of abusing his work’s smoke break policy, and during said smoke breaks, makes a point of bothering the two ice cream workers whenever he gets the chance. Well, conversing with Robin. Mostly bothering Steve. Only bothering Steve. 

“Very funny Munson–oh wow! That’s so crazy there’s a customer in your store. You should go talk to them.” 

“Dawn has it handled.” Eddie waves him off and turns back to Robin, arms folding over the counter and leaning over it. “Now, back to your seemingly endless patience, dearest Buckley. What was I saying about it again?”

“How I’m truly braver than any US Marine in my mission to tolerate not so savory customers and coworkers.” Robin answers. 

“Ouch.” Steve deadpans as he hands one of the customers in line a cone. 

“Aw, come on. I was mostly talking about Danny, I swear.” 

“ You were mostly talking about Danny, personally I find his conversational skills riveting.” A bold-faced lie. That kid never says anything more than is company policy. “Maybe I’ll pay him a visit on those lonely days you’re not here.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and tries to focus on the customers. It’s easy to do, really, considering Robin had completely abandoned him to talk with Eddie, yet he still keeps drifting his attention to them. They whisper and giggle conspiratorially, occasionally glancing his way to make it plainly known a recurring subject in their conversations, and most importantly– despite complaining about how Robin is abandoned often to ‘the trenches’--leave him completely high and dry to the afternoon rush. 

Which he doesn’t complain about. He makes a point not to complain about it, actually, because that’s just proving Eddie right, and dealing with a few rushes on his own is a small price to pay for him– them – to see he’s not a complete dick anymore. 

“Just you today Red?” Steve asks, once the rush finally dies and a familiar red-headed girl walks into the store. 

She scrunches up her nose and hands him change without giving an order, he hands her a cone of strawberry and pushes the change back to her. “Billy’s on a date.” 

Steve copies her expression. “Ew. How?” 

“Probably because he doesn’t wear a sailor costume while doing so.” Robin butts in, receiving a well-hidden middle finger in response. 

“Very helpful comment, thank you Robin.” 

“Of course, my liege,” She bows with a flowery wave of her hand. “Anything to be of service.” 

Both Eddie and Max laugh at her response. Traitor. 

“Oh, it’s not so bad. There’s only what…six tallies today? I think that’s a record low.” Eddie says through snickers. 

“You showed him the board?” Steve asks Robin, trying to go for annoyance, though if he’s being honest with himself just comes off as more of…a kicked puppy sort of tone. Damn. 

“The board?” 

“It’s a white board I have to document the results of his highness’ romantic endeavors.” Robin explains, turning to face Max. “He gets someone’s number, a tally for the You Rule side, he strikes out, a tally for You Suck.”

“And how many good tallies has he gotten?”

Robin smiles. “I don’t know. Steve, how many good tallies have you gotten?” 

Steve sighs, pulls some change from his pocket and puts it in the cash drawer. “None, Robin.”

“And what’s the average number of bad tallies you’ve gotten?”

“Making him do math now?” Eddie leans further over the counter. “Come on Rob, give him a break.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and doesn’t comment, instead focusing on the change Max had pushed across the counter again. 

“Too late, maybe next time.” 

“Oi, Dingus,” Robin pulled the register open again. “You’re supposed to take payment when providing goods.”

“I’m aware.” 

She rolls her eyes and goes through the register herself, counting through the cash and change to make sure it's correct. For a minute Steve looks hurt by this, but shakes it off in an instant, looking back at Max. 

“I clock out in about ten minutes.” 

She blinks, taking a minute to process the silent offer before nodding it, an equally silent acceptance. “Dustin beat one of my high scores before he left.” 

“Dustin?” Eddie asks, now electing to just sit on the counter instead of leaning on it. 

“His favorite child.” 

“Wh–he’s not–I don’t–”

“Have a favorite child? No response you could come up with can save you right now.” Again, snickers from both Eddie and Robin. “You can drop me off. No offense but…” 

“I should get changed, I’m aware.” 

She nods, finishes her ice cream and starts picking at the cone, enjoying the few seconds of quiet before Robin slams the register shut.

“It’s up to date.” 

“Uh…yea, I know. I’ve been keeping track.” 

“Dude, you literally just gave that away. For free. And I counted it like five times!” 

“You didn’t have to count it…that much.” He smiles a bit nervously, a small laugh in an attempt to keep the tone light, but again has to hide whatever hurt shows up on his face. 

“Whatever,” She sighs, shrugs, and walks back to Eddie. “But seriously dingus, that’s gonna come out of your paycheck. You know that right?” 

Steve doesn’t try to keep the air light at that, mostly because her attention is back on Eddie now, instead muttering a bit angrily to himself as he goes to clock out. It already did come out of his paycheck. 

—

“You know you can tell them off right?” 

Steve sighs. So far, the evening’s going by with no incident. Neither of them really talks when he drops her off, and when he gets back to the arcade, she’s too focused on the game to talk then either. Now though, it seems, she was simply mustering up courage. 

“It wasn’t anything serious.” He says, finally. 

“Robin basically implied you were braindead.” 

“I don’t think she–It’s not a big deal. Plus, you know, I kinda need the humility reminder.” 

“Wh–” Max glares at him, carefully thinking over her words before she speaks again. “Fine then. Subject change. Why are you working so much?”

“No, actually let’s go back to the previous subject–” 

“Ten hours every day this week. You have that one day off on Tuesday, but I know you’re not actually taking a break for that.” Her eyes are still narrowed, even when he glares back. “You pay for all our stuff, you waste gas money driving us around, and yet I know for a fact you almost never have a lunch with you at work.” 

“Huh? I…” Steve clears his throat, focuses harder on the road. “I do.” 

“You don’t and we all know it.” 

His eyes widen a bit. “We?” 

“They don’t…none of the guys really think about it. Will’s picked up on it mostly, and I have but–look you don’t have to tell everyone but–” 

“But what? All this shit goes down with monsters and creatures from hell and I’m supposed to complain to either literal children or adults who have way too much on their plate about my shitty financial problems?” 

She frowns, slouches in her seat and speaks in a smaller voice than normal. “You know they’d both want to help.” 

“I–” Steve finally relents, pulling the car into a restaurant lot and putting it in park. “It doesn’t matter if they want to or not, Mayfield. Hopper’s raising a super powered kid, Joyce is dealing with her boyfriend dying and her kids almost dying for the second goddamn time in a row. So having me like, crash at their house would be way too much–” 

“Why would you need to stay at their house?” 

For a moment, he freezes, he doesn’t say anything in response. Max faces and leans toward him. 

“Why do you need to crash at someone else’s house?”

“I don’t–I’m not homeless or anything ok? It’s not that bad.” 

“Yet.” 

“It’s not going to get that bad, I just…need to save up some money.”

She doesn’t move away, nor does her piercing stare lessen at any point. 

“I kind of missed the mark in my college applications. I didn’t get in where they wanted me to–or anywhere, really, so…you know, can’t really freeload forever.” He sighs. “Seriously, it’s not a problem. I mean, I’m an adult. I’ve got a year to save up for a place so they’re honestly being pretty generous–” 

“ Steve .” 

He winces. “It’s just a little difficult, ok? They’re not really there often so I’m basically living on my own already, and getting food every week adds up, especially with how much you all eat–so I get less, and I pick up extra shifts. It’s fine.” 

Finally, her glare softens. She hangs her head, runs a hand through her hair and slumps back against the passenger’s seat.

“I’ll bully them, then.” 

“Huh?” 

“No more asking you for favors and food. We all get allowance and shit so it’s not too big of a task, and we have  bikes, so we really don’t need you driving us to every single place on the Hawkin’s map.” The glare returns, for a moment. “But only if you cut down work.” 

He grimaces–really does look like he wants to argue, but instead just hides his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m being lectured by a preteen.” 

She smiles. “Stop being dumb, then.”

Steve rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, despite her immediate protests. They sit in silence for a moment, and after a while Steve reaches to take the car out of park again, only for Max to put her hand over the gearstick.

“Can we eat first?” She clarifies, at his confused expression. “I’m paying.” 

“Wh–Max you’re twelve I’m not letting you–” He’s cut off by her scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind her. “Mayfield, I swear to god!” 

Max flips him off in response, a little wad of cash already held tightly in her hand. He shakes his head, smiles, and follows behind her.

Chapter Text

Robin Buckley is the bright shining star of Eddie’s daily routine. Eddie would be stuck with Dawn - who has no time for him - and Steve Harrington - who is the world’s biggest asshole, naturally - without her. 

At least she’s kind of cool. Well, cool, gay and doesn’t like shit music, same difference. The past few days of being her friend has been such a massive improvement on the entire month before it that Eddie can even accept the fact that seeing Steve on the regular is part of the Robin package. 

Now there’s an interesting little situation. Eddie makes fun of Steve almost constantly and he just sits there and takes it. Clearly, it’s all part of his grand plan to trick Eddie into thinking he’s actually a good person now - as fucking if. People like Harrington aren’t capable of change. 

So Eddie gets to hang out with Robin and turn a little of his high school torture around on one of his top tormentors. What did he say? ‘86, baby, it’s definitely gonna be his year. 

Eddie’s on another smoke break at Scoops - Dawn cares about him so little she won’t even tell their boss he’s out of the store just as often as he’s in it - shooting the shit with Robin. 

“I’m telling you, Buckley, you need to listen to Girlschool. They’re right up your alley.”

“I don’t know.” She taps her fingers against the counter thoughtfully. “Are you sure they’re not too hard?”

“Completely sure. It’s just good music - no screaming at all, I promise.”

“What band is this?” Steve asks while dropping a scoop of something horrible and pink into a cone.

Eddie scowls. “Hey, you stay out of this. They’re too intellectual for you, anyway.”

Steve shrugs and goes back to scooping. Robin clucks her tongue. 

“That was a bit mean,” she chides. 

“What, little old me?” Eddie bats his eyelashes innocently. 

Robin just doesn’t get it - she’s a cute girl, lesbian band geek or not. She’s never had school royalty up her ass every day of the week like Eddie has. 

She shoves his elbow off the counter with a laugh. “You’re terrible . Alright, you’ve hooked me: tell me more about Girlschool.”

“As the lady wishes!” 

Eddie loves talking music. It’s maybe his second favorite thing in the whole world, right behind Dungeons and Dragons. He usually gets so into it he forgets about what’s happening around him.

Not today. Today, Steve has been fucking up every single thing spectacularly and Eddie wants to keep watching that particular train wreck.

The guy’s clearly hungover: he keeps squinting at the lights and rubbing his forehead when some especially loud sugar-bright mall pop music plays. Eddie doesn’t feel sorry for him one bit.

Even better, his hangover makes him drop stuff, miscount change, and forget what he’s doing in the middle of doing it. 

The kid at the counter blinks confusedly at the cone that Steve hands her.

“I wanted Rocky Road,” she says.

Steve smiles weakly. “Right, of course. Silly me - even sailors make mistakes, eh?”

Eddie’s explaining how Girlschool is one the earliest female-lead metal bands to Robin, but really he’s watching while Steve shakily scoops out some Rocky Road. He’s gripping his stupid little scooper like his life literally depends on it. 

“That’s coming out of your paycheck, by the way,” Robin says while Steve dumps the other cone.

“I know.”

Steve thumps his head against the counter. Robin chuckles and ruffles his hair.

“Late night?”

“Something like that.”

The redhead from yesterday walks in. She frowns down at Steve, whose head is still on the counter, and then smirks.

“What’s up?” She shouts, slamming her hands down on the counter. Even Eddie thinks she’s kind of loud and his ears haven’t worked quite right since he went to that show in Indianapolis two years ago. 

Steve does something between a jump and a wince that ends with his ass on the floor. Eddie laughs, of course, and even Robin can’t help but join in. 

“Dingus, are you even functioning right now?” She asks between giggles. 

“Is he ever? Harrington doesn’t have any brains in his head. It’s all empty up there.”

Mayfield isn’t as amused. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Steve says, attempting to bring himself to a stand and just falling over again. 

Eddie laughs harder. Robin doubles over the counter, choking on air. 

“Alright, maybe I’m feeling a little weird.”

Harrington finally stands and brushes himself off. He still seems kind of unstable, honestly, shaky-legged and gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles turn white. He must’ve partied real hard with Hagan last night.

“How weird?” Mayfield asks.

“Eh. Like a three?” 

“A three . Right, because whatever this is,” Mayfield gestures to Steve, “is a three.”

Robin pats Harrington’s arm. “Don’t worry, small child, he’s just like this. He’ll find his sea legs soon enough.”

“Yeah, kid,” Eddie snorts. “Harrington here is too stupid to walk, is all.”

“Shut up.” The girl glares at both of them.

“That’s me. Dumb Steve.” See, even Steve knows it!

“ You shut up. I’m tired of this! You promised me that you were gonna work less and yet! You need to go home, Steve.”

“Can’t, Mayfield. How will Robin run the store by herself?”

Robin crosses her arms. “I hate to tell you this, Steve, but you’ve been worse than useless today. Seriously, stay home the next time you have a hangover.”

Something strange happens. Harrington deflates like the world’s saddest balloon and then he perks right back up. What’s that about?

“Yeah. A hangover, definitely.”

Eddie frowns. It’s exactly what he was thinking and suddenly he’s not so sure: every word out of Harrington’s mouth is screaming lie . It’s -

It’s nothing . Eddie doesn’t care. So what if Harrington is lying his ass off? He does that all the time anyway. 

Walking on Sunshine comes on over the mall speakers. Ugh, Eddie hates this song. 

Steve, who’s been trying to shuffle Mayfield out the door, transforms from a newborn fawn to a deer on a frozen pond. His legs go literally everywhere - the guy lands himself in an empty booth by pure chance. Mayfield hovers, concerned.

“Steve?”

He winces, his hands clapping down over his ears. 

“ Shit ,” Mayfield hisses.

Eddie shakes his head. This is no ordinary hangover. He’d be sad about losing a customer but Steve isn’t someone he wants to sell to in the first place. He probably got something awful from Rick.

Eddie grins. He has a very evil idea. 

He opens his mouth and starts singing along, as loudly and off-key as he can possibly manage. He swings his arm around Robin, leading her in a half-dance, and she starts singing, too.

“Shut up !” Mayfield shouts. “Both of you! This isn’t funny!” She looks so frustrated: her little freckled face is nearly as red as her hair. 

“‘S fine, Max,” Harrington groans. “Friends make fun of you when you overindulge.”

Eddie would hardly call them friends, but sure, close enough. 

“No. You’re not hungover , you have a migraine because you keep getting concussions and you need to go home before it gets worse. You know what the doctor said.”

Migraine? Steve probably got that from playing basketball or something, so Eddie still doesn’t feel too sorry for him. He’s the idiot that decided to show up to work in a bright, loud mall with head problems.

“Ugh.”

“Do I need to call for help?”

Steve pales. “Nope! I’ll go, honest, just as soon as I can see straight.”

“You’re having blurry vision? Why didn’t you say that earlier?” She whirls and points at Eddie. “You. Help me get him home, now.”

Eddie does not want to do that. “Why me?”

“Buckley can’t drive, Steve can’t drive, and he won’t let me drive after last time.”

Eddie would rather die than lend Harrington a helping hand. 

“Absolutely not.”

She crosses her arms. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to call Hopper.”

“Hopper?” Eddie asks.

“Hopper?” Robin echoes.

“No,” Steve groans. “Please, Max, he’ll be all Hopper about it. What if he makes me stay at the cabin?”

“And you’d deserve it.”

“Sorry,” Robin says, “Hopper? As in the Chief of Police? That Hopper?”

Eddie’s equally confused. The only thing cops do in this town is bust Harrington’s parties and blow up Eddie’s spot. Why on earth would Jim Hopper come help Harrington in the middle of a weekday?

“Yes, that Hopper.”

“He hates me,” Steve says into the table. 

“It’s so much worse than that: he likes you. So, what’s it gonna be? Will you help me, or am I just going to have to call Hopper?” She raises an eyebrow.

She’s bluffing. She has to be bluffing. 

Her mouth quirks into a smirk. “Alright.” She shrugs. “Guess I’m calling.”

Shit. She’s not bluffing.

Eddie folds. “Okay, I’ll drive him home. Geez, kid, you don’t gotta bring the pigs into this.”

Getting Steve into the van is a whole production. First, Steve can barely manage to get across the mall while leaning on Mayfield. Then, he nearly collapses in the parking lot - something about the heat - and Eddie has to abandon them both to get his van because Steve can’t go any further. And just to tie all this shittiness off, Steve sneers at his van.

“I’m not getting in that death trap.”

“Hopper,” Mayfield says. 

That gets Harrington moving into his passenger seat faster than anything Eddie could’ve come up with. Mayfield hops into the back and hangs onto the front seats for dear life while Eddie tears through the Hawkins streets. 

“Can you drive even slightly less erratically?” Mayfield asks.

“This baby only has one speed, kid.” He pats the roof fondly. 

She shrugs. “It’s your upholstery.”

He glances over to Steve. He is looking green around the gills. Eddie, very reluctantly, slows down. Just a little. 

Steve stumbles out of the van as soon as Eddie pulls up to his house and throws up directly onto his perfectly manicured lawn.

Mayfield lands next to him, trying to get him to stand up and get inside, but Steve can’t seem to get his feet under him. 

She glances up at Eddie. “Help me get him inside.”

Eddie sighs and kills the ignition - after all, he’s come this far. He doesn’t want to go back to Scoops and tell Robin he left Steve in a puddle of his own vomit.

“Alright, fine. Open the door for me, would you?”

Mayfield nods and dashes to the front door. Eddie levers Steve up and practically carries him the rest of the way, which is not an easy task. He dumps Steve on the couch and wipes his hands of the whole thing.

He glances around - Mayfield is in the kitchen, frowning into the fridge. She slams the door after a moment.

“Empty,” she mutters. “Gonna need to call someone after all.”

“He hasn’t gone grocery shopping in a while: so what?”

She glares at him. “Fuck off.”

“Wow. Grateful, much?”

“I had to threaten you to make you help. Why don’t you get your head out of your ass and stop being a dick for five seconds?”

And it’s more than Steve would’ve done for Eddie in a million years. “Hey, I helped get him in the house. I could’ve just left.”

“Well, now you’ve done your good deed for the day, so feel free to leave. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Fine, whatever. So long, Little Red.”

She scowls. “You don’t get to call me that. That’s Steve’s name, not yours.”

“Whatever you say.” 

She glares at him, nose flaring and eyes burning with fury. She’s one angry little kid - Eddie doesn’t envy whoever has to take care of her.

“Why do you care so much about him?”

He’s honestly curious. It doesn’t make sense - they’re not related, and there’s no way Steve Harrington of all people is being nice to some random girl just for the sake of it. There’s a story there, and Eddie likes stories.

She looks down, head tilted, clearly deciding what to tell Eddie. “He helped me when I needed him.”

“What did he do, drive you home from soccer practice?”

“He -” she breaks off with a frustrated grunt. “No. It… his migraines, the concussion: it’s my fault.”

Eddie’s no babysitter - the most he can claim is the occasional nerdy Freshman in Hellfire - but even he knows better than to let some kid go running around thinking that shit. 

“Hey, that’s not true. Whatever choice he made was his and his alone.”

“Steve said the same thing.”

Sure he did. Steve’s probably perfectly happy to let this child blame herself for him getting in some stupid-ass fight.

“Whatever,” she says. “I don’t care what you think.”

“I think that you have no idea who he really is.”

“And who’s that?”

“A complete dick. It’s who he was in high school, and it’s who he’s always going to be. ”

“I don’t know who he was, but I know who he is . It’s good enough for me.” With that, she stomps off into the living room, probably to make sure Steve doesn’t throw up again.

Eddie leaves, his thoughts clunking heavily in his head.

Maybe Steve’s actually nice to kids. That doesn’t make him a good person. It just makes him very slightly less shitty than Eddie assumed he was. He’s a dick. He’s an asshole who makes people’s lives hell for no good reason. 

He’s friends with guys like Tommy Hagan and probably Billy Hargrove, too. Mayfield is Hargrove’s step-sister, right? Maybe that’s how Steve and Mayfield know each other: Eddie heard some rumor about Hargrove and Steve getting into it last year. He’s willing to bet anything it was some hyper-masculine attempt at showing off and now they’re all as thick as thieves. 

Eddie nods to himself. Everything he knows is aligning itself nicely: Mayfield wouldn’t know a genuinely good person if Eddie drew her a diagram. 

If there’s any niggling doubt forming in his gut, well, Eddie’s quick to squash that before it can rise. 

Chapter Text

Eddie is thinking about Steve Harrington way too much lately. 

The… incident the day prior can't seem to leave his mind, despite his sincerest efforts to kick the thing into submission and shove it down a god damn well. It just keeps climbing back up, the same stubborn insistence as the man his thoughts were about. 

Everything about that interaction was weird. Steve blatantly lies about his situation for no reason, works during a migraine, and apparently got it because of something Mayfield insists was her fault. None of it makes any sense to him. None of it. It’s so out of character to associate the idea of selflessness–especially to the point Mayfiel insisted–with him . 

  He helped me when I needed him. 

It’s certainly a very cryptic and vague thing to say. It could mean anything–though with how damn loyal the kid seems to be logically that means it's something big. 

Eddie glances up from his register and looks across from him, looking over at Steve but avoiding catching his eye. Physically, he still looks exhausted, and that fact is hard to ignore, but it’s not what he chooses to focus on. He looks at him and tries to picture him in the way the kids do, helping someone and getting his hands dirty for no other reason than the goodness in his own heart. 

He can’t imagine anything close. 

All of it, every bit of how he presents himself just seems so fake . How is he supposed to believe this guy’s a good person when every halfhearted smile looks like nothing more than a twitch of the muscle, the chipperness of his voice radiating that customer service bullshit even when he talks to those damn kids he’s been told he cares so much about.

It’s all a front, and an embarrassingly obvious one at that. He’s an idiot and an asshole, and him being anything other than that would go against all known laws of the Hawkins’ universe. 

He sees Robin walk inside the store front, waving both at him and then at Steve. Sees her talk to the man in a way that seems concerned. Now’s around the time he usually goes on his fake smoke break of the day–she’ll be confused when he avoids them–yet when she glances his way, he ignores it and goes outside for a real one instead. 

Once he’s outside and finally free of Steve Harrington’s stupid face, he genuinely considers thanking the stars above that he only really looked his way this morning. He didn’t try to start a conversation. He’s in the process of thanking those stars when the guy’s underling manifests from behind a wall. 

“Look, I don’t know what it is you think I did but–” 

Tommy grabs his shirt and slams him against the wall before he can finish that thought. His hand falls from where it had been holding his cigarette, allowing the thing to fall and burn out on the ground. 

Eddie clicks his tongue, trying to seem unfazed. “Those cost money, you know.”

“Shame.” Tommy’s shoe slams down on the cigarette in question, grinding on the ground and turning it to smoking ash. 

“Seriously, this is getting depressing.” He continues to speak in a monotone voice, keeping himself steady, keeping his reactions minimal. “You’re an adult now, shouldn’t we be past this?” 

“Considering you’re still doing the same shit I keep warning you about, no.”

“Apologies my liege, I didn’t realize us peasants weren’t allowed to associate with your kind –”

The blow Tommy sends to his stomach knocks the wind out of him. He doubles over, almost falls to his knees but barely manages to press his weight against the wall to keep him upright. 

“Acting real ballsy for someone so easy to punch.” 

“Someone so easy to–you sucker-punched me you asshole!” 

“See that’s the thing. You don’t learn. You gotta do senior year three times over and apparently ,” his hand reaches to grab a good bit of Eddie’s hair, tugging him back upright. “Can never figure out when to shut up.” 

“Last I checked I don’t usually talk until after you beat my ass–”

Another blow to his stomach, Tommy’s grip on his hair keeps him from moving. “I think I’ve had enough of this. I don’t know what’s got in your head lately, but I’m this damn close to dragging your ass back to the quarry and shoving you in.”

Eddie’s hands start shaking before he can stop it. Tommy’s eyes flick down at them, then back up to meet Eddie’s now terrified gaze. He smiles. 

“I’m not gonna be nice this time. Once you go down, you’re not coming back up. So just shut your damn mouth for once. Got it?” 

Despite everything he stands for, all the speeches and false bravado, he can’t muster up a damn word. All he can do is nod. 

Tommy finally lets him go. 

– 

Robin keeps giving him weird looks. She’s alone now, she was manning the counter and Steve was nowhere in sight. She’s probably expecting him to walk over, and normally he would– especially with the source of his problems finally, thankfully absent, but sometimes Dawn needs a break, and sometimes he needs to not talk to people. 

After ten minutes or so of this awkward routine, Steve walks back in--rubbing his wrists, shoving his hands in his pockets and casting a nervous smile when he notices Eddie looking his way. He rolls his eyes in response and goes back to his magazine. 

They talked. Probably pissed to all hell Eddie’s calling him out on his shit and sends Tommy to deal with it. Maybe he watched. 

Another hour passes and Eddie finally decides to pay the place a visit. Grudge or no he doesn’t think he could handle a lunch break alone right now, plus if he ignored Robin all day, she’d never forgive him. 

“Ok but like…what’s the story ? You can’t just say ‘oh I got my ass beat’ and then not elaborate! Who beat your ass? I totally believe you lost spectacularly, doesn’t surprise me but I mean did you at least get a few hits in or–” Eddie clears his throat, cutting off her rambling. “Oh! Eddie!” 

Steve lets out a visible sigh of relief, seeing her attention drift. Eddie scrunches up his nose. 

“You ignored me.” She says with a barely concealed pout. The reaction’s honestly a bit worse than what he was expecting. 

“Sometimes I do actually need a smoke, Rob.” He says in a tone trying to come across as nonchalant, even if he does feel bad. “Especially considering how stressful my mornings are when it’s just this one bothering me.” 

He’s going for a joke, a lighthearted nudge in Steve’s direction, though the man’s reaction is weirdly…dejected, while Robin looks more uncomfortable than anything else. 

“Well, since I was abandoned by both of you the second I got here, I’ve decided I’m taking my fifteen. Eddie?”

“Uh…” He quickly shakes the interaction off, easy smile back on just as it left. “Yea, I’m on mine now anyway.” 

She nods, tugs at Steve’s arm and whispers something Eddie can’t make out, then heads to the back. He leaps over the door to follow, only for Steve to grab his arm.

He freezes, Steve immediately lets go.

“Look uh…about…everything that happened yesterday. I’m sorry about–” 

“Don’t force other people to deal with your mess. Especially a kid, deal with it yourself, call in, I don’t give a damn, just—”

“Eddie–”

“Just don’t drag me into it. Next time this happens just shut your damn mouth, I’m not helping you.” 

“I–” His fist clenches, for a minute Eddie thinks he’s finally gotten the guy to snap, but the hand relaxes just a moment later. He sighs, he looks almost…resigned. “Ok. I’ll deal with it.” 

This time, when Eddie walks past him to the back, Steve doesn’t stop him.

Chapter Text

“I’m this damn close to bringing you to the quarry and shoving you in.”

“I’m not gonna be nice this time.”

This time.

Steve slams Tommy against the mall brickwork the literal second Eddie leaves his line of sight. Tommy gasps and grips Steve’s wrists.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

It’s taking every single ounce of Steve’s willpower to not wring Tommy’s neck right then and there. 

Tommy grins. “Just putting the peasants in their place. You used to like that sort of thing, remember?”

Steve’s had just about enough of this bullshit. He slams Tommy back again, hard. Tommy’s head bounces slightly against the wall and he winces. 

“You want King Steve back?” Steve hisses. “Fine. King Steve had one fucking rule, Hagan. Just one. Remember it?” He glares right into Tommy’s eyes - he wants to hear Tommy say it.

Despite the fact that Steve has Tommy up against a wall and is this close to beating the shit out of him, Tommy smiles a real smile. It’s a great, big, sunny thing, like he’s opening a special present on Christmas morning. Like he’s found a nice surprise.

“Never hit the other guy first,” Tommy says.

“And what did you just do?”

“He deserved it.”

Steve slams him against the wall, harder this time. “Wrong fucking answer. Try again.”

“...I hit him first. He still deserved it, though.”

“And did he deserve to be drowned?” That makes Tommy break eye contact and lose the smile - he looks at the ground beneath their feet, covered in cigarette stubs. Steve grabs his chin and forces his head up. “Look at me, Hagan. Did he deserve to die? If you’re gonna take a life you damn well better be sure about it.”

He scoffs. “I didn’t go through with it, did I?”

Jesus Christ. What is wrong with him? “You stupid motherfucker. When did you do that? Why did you do that?”

“To shut his big fat mouth. He’s always standing on the tables and distracting everyone - it got on my fucking nerves.” 

Steve scans Tommy’s face. The benefit of knowing someone for forever is that they become very easy to read: Tommy’s lying his ass off right now. He doesn’t even look angry - he looks scared. Ashamed, maybe. Embarrassed, like the time he threw up on Steve’s bedroom rug in the third grade after eating too many gummy bears.

“Don’t lie to me, Tommy,” Steve warns. “It won’t end well for you.” 

Tommy has never once been scared of Steve. But maybe he sees something in Steve’s eyes, sees the part of him that’s wondering how quickly he can kick the shit out of Tommy before somebody notices, the part of him that’s thinking of a nail bat. The deep, dark heart of him that’s wondering if Hopper would help him hide a body. Tommy gulps.

“After Halloween,” he says. “Last year. You wouldn’t stop staring at him. Nancy Wheeler was sitting with her cuck boyfriend three tables down and the only thing you looked at was him . Billy thought it would be funny to put the fear of God in the local freak.”

Of course Hargrove is a part of this mess. Tommy is always worse when somebody is egging him on: Steve knows that from long-lived experience.

“So I asked him to meet me at the quarry for a deal. Billy never showed, but Munson did, and… I was never really gonna kill him, man. I just wanted to give him a scare. Make him stop looking back.”

Looking back? Was Eddie watching Steve, too? Maybe -

No. Steve shakes his head to clear it. Not important right now - he needs to focus. 

“What happened to you?” There used to be a time that Tommy was just a regular shitty guy, like Steve himself. He would pick on people and goof off in class, but that Tommy would never have even thought about drowning someone in the quarry no matter how pissed off he was. “What changed, man?”

“You’re the one who changed, not me. Though,” Tommy’s eyes flick down to Steve’s hands, one on his shoulder blade and the other still gasping Tommy’s chin, probably leaving bruises in his wake, “not as much as I thought. It’s good to be king again, isn’t it?”

Steve lets him go all at once. Tommy’s hands tighten on his wrists before Steve yanks himself backward. Bile rises in his throat. “I can’t even look at you right now. You disgust me.”

Tommy cackles. “Who’s the one being violent? Didn’t take much for you to go back to the old ways: you sure you don’t want back in?”

“Not the old ways.” King Steve wouldn’t have said a word in Eddie’s defense no matter how obsessed he was. “You see, Tommy, that one rule? It’s got an addendum now.”

“Oh, big word, you learn that one from your ex?”

Yes. “Shut up, I’m talking. I’ll hit someone else first if I see them fucking with my people, and Eddie’s one of my people. If I see you talking to him, taking him aside - hell, if you even fucking look at him you’ll get to find out exactly what I’ve been up to for the last few years.”

“Please. You’ve never won a fight in your life.”

Steve gives a wild, toothy grin and steps forward. “I have a baseball bat with nails hammered into it in my trunk. You wanna go get introduced?”

Tommy falls back against the wall. “Fine. I was trying to protect you, but I’m not doing a thankless task. I’m out.” He storms away.

Protect Steve? Steve can protect himself, thanks. He throws open the back door and stomps inside, still seething with anger. God, does Tommy ever get under his skin.

Steve rubs his wrists absently while walking down the long, winding hallways back to Scoops. How can he make sure that Tommy doesn’t fuck with Eddie again? 

Maybe Hopper could help. Steve doesn’t want to rat anyone out to a cop, but he knows Tommy. He’s scared for now, but pretty soon that switch will flip and he’ll be right back to harassing the other guy like Steve didn’t do a thing. They’re going to need a more permanent solution.

Steve catches sight of Eddie across the way in Legacy Vinyl. He gives Eddie a smile, even if he doesn’t really feel up to it. Eddie looks down at his magazine and Steve heaves a sigh. Tommy fucking Hagan. What an absolute nightmare.

Robin pounces. “Why didn’t you tell me you get migraines?”

Fuck . Steve forgot about Max spreading his business every which way. 

“I don’t get them that often anymore.” Once every other week isn’t that often compared to every single day. “I didn’t think it would come up.” Steve didn’t think she’d ever notice. She didn’t the other two times Steve showed up to work with a migraine. 

“It’s relevant! Like, what causes them? Maybe I could help you avoid that stuff!”

Steve brings up a hand and starts counting off his fingers. “Heat, extreme temperature shifts, bright lights, loud noises, reading, and really strong smells.” 

She frowns. “So, the entire mall?”

“Yep.”

“Why are you working here? Don’t give me that ‘dad cut me off’ crap, you could’ve gotten a minimum wage gig at, like, the local hotel or something.”

“Nobody else in Hawkins was hiring.”

“So leave! You’ve got a car, you can drive.”

“Can’t.” Things only ever go wrong in Hawkins. Besides, who else would look after the kids? 

“Why not?”

“Just can’t.”

Robin groans. “Come on, tell me. I want the whole Steve Harrington backstory. Like, how did you even meet all those kids?”

“Babysitting,” he answers shortly while ringing up a customer. He’s a decent enough liar, but the cover stories are so weird and complicated at this point that Steve can’t ever remember half of what he’s supposed to tell people. 

“And how did that happen?”

Great. Just fantastic. 

Robin spends the next hour pestering him. Every time Steve thinks that she’s run out of questions she pops up with a new one. It’s endless .

“How did you get a concussion?”

“I got my ass beat.”

Robin huffs in frustration. “You can’t just say ‘oh I got my ass beat’ and then not elaborate! Who beat your ass? I totally believe you lost spectacularly, doesn’t surprise me, but, I mean, did you at least get a few hits in or -” 

Eddie clears his throat. Steve nearly jumps out of his skin: he didn’t even notice that the guy came into the store. 

“Oh, Eddie!” Robin says, finally getting distracted, thank fuck. Steve breathes a sigh of relief - he was running out of lies to tell.

Robin complains about Eddie ignoring her to smoke. Steve stands there silently and doesn’t say a thing about Tommy: it’s not really his story to tell. 

Eventually, she invites Eddie into the back for a break. She leans up to Steve's ear and whispers, 

“Remember: just talk to him. Be normal!”

Yeah. As if Steve can be normal . His chance at normal flew out the window the second he turned back around at the Byers' place two years ago.

Eddie hops over the counter to follow Robin. Steve grabs his arm, thinking about nothing more than all of the things he wants to say.

Eddie freezes. Steve winces to himself and lets go - yeah, admittedly not his best move.

“Look…” Steve needs to apologize. Tommy tried to kill Eddie because of Steve. But Eddie doesn’t know that Steve saw any of that: what if he’s embarrassed or something? Worse, what if he doesn’t believe that Steve stepped in? Alright, maybe he can apologize for making Eddie drive him home instead. It’s not enough, but it works. “Uh, about everything that happened yesterday. I’m sorry about -” 

Eddie scowls at him. “Don’t force other people to deal with your mess. Especially a kid, deal with it yourself, call in, I don’t give a damn, just -”

“Eddie -” Steve has no idea what he’s about to say, so it’s probably a good thing that Eddie just barrels right past him.

“Just don’t drag me into it. Next time this happens just shut your damn mouth, I’m not helping you.” 

“I -” He clenches his fist. He just wants to explain , and apologize, and maybe get Eddie to realize that Steve’s not the bad guy here. 

He stares down at his bruised wrists and takes a breath. No, that’s selfish. That’s King Steve behavior. This isn’t about him at all - it’s about Eddie, and Tommy's stupid ass, and the fact that Steve clearly makes Eddie uncomfortable. He forces himself to relax. “Ok. I’ll deal with it.” 

This time, when Eddie walks past him to the back, Steve doesn’t stop him. 

Instead, he picks up the phone and dials the police station.

“Hello, Flo speaking, how may I help you?”

Steve leans back against the counter. “Hi, Flo, it’s Steve - is Hopper there? I need to talk to him about something.”

“One moment.”

Steve waits, tapping his foot impatiently. It feels like it takes forever, but Hopper says hello before Take On Me ends.

“What’s up, kid? You in some kind of trouble?”

Why does Hopper always think Steve’s gotten into trouble? He hasn’t done anything worthy of a cop banging on his front door in ages . 

“Not exactly. You know Tommy Hagan?”

“The jackass you used to hang around with?”

Steve nods before remembering that Hopper can’t see him. “Yeah, him.”

“I’m familiar. What’s he done?”

“He keeps harassing this other guy at the mall. Like, saying shitty things and bugging him at work and stuff. And… today he punched this guy in the stomach for no reason.” 

Hopper hums into the receiver. “U-huh. This… other guy … why can’t he make a report?”

“I think he’s scared that Tommy will lash out.” Not to mention Eddie probably wouldn’t think to go to a cop for help in a million years. Steve might have a crush, but that doesn’t make him blind: he sells drugs, for fuck’s sake. 

“Sure, sure, makes sense. I’ll make sure to give him a little visit. Don’t worry, kid: he’s not gonna bother this other guy again.”

Steve smiles. He doesn’t really understand why Hopper is stressing that part so much, but at least it’ll be taken care of. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Steve hears Hopper’s chair creak. He’s probably leaning back and propping his feet up on the desk - Steve can practically see him doing it.

“Can I cash that favor in now? Jane’s been craving fresh waffles, and, hell, you know I’m a shit cook.”

“I can still teach you.”

“Nah, it’s easier to let you do it.”

“I can come over tomorrow morning?” He’ll have to wake up practically at the crack of dawn if he’s making the batter fresh. It’s worth it: El’s a sweet kid and she doesn’t really get to do much. She always has a dozen questions for Steve about the outside world, everything from stuff he doesn’t know (how do TVs work) to stuff he does (why do people wear makeup).

“Why not tonight?”

Oh . Goddamn it, Steve needs to stop falling for this shit; he’ll be lucky if he can escape the cabin within the week. 

“I guess that’s fine. But I have work tomorrow!” And then he can go straight home. Hopper already has an entire child eating him out of house and home. The very last thing he needs is Steve’s useless ass. 

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.” Steve hangs up.

There’s no way that El will let Steve go easily - the only reason Hopper puts up with him at all is because El’s just… decided that they’re all family. He’s going to need to come up with a plan if he’s going to get out of Hopper’s way quickly enough that the Chief doesn’t actually start to hate him.

Chapter Text

“Waffles.”

Steve blinks, hand still balled up to knock, and heaves a long sigh. “Hello to you too.”

“Hello.” El opens the door further and watches him walk inside. “Can you make waffles now?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mike I see.” He mutters under his breath–ignoring the immediate scrunch of her nose–and goes to grab whatever waffle ingredients he had left over from the last batch. “Kid’s got an attitude,” He elaborates. “Must be contagious.” 

To that, she rolls her eyes, another thing she’s picked up from Mike , though her usual demeanor takes its place the second he sets the ingredients on the counter, hopping up on a stool and leaning against her hands. 

She frowns, when he pauses, furrowing his brows at the things in front of him.

“It’s like…eight at night.” He frowns as well. “Are you sure you want waffles…right now?”

“...yes?”

“I could just make them in the morning.”

“Why?”

And so, the questions begin. “It’s a breakfast food. I could just…pick up pizza for tonight and then we have it tomorrow?”

“Or you could make double waffles and we have them twice.”

“No–kid it…ok, so you know about the whole...breakfast, lunch and dinner thing, right?” An odd question to ask, but Hopper had a habit of forgetting to explain things he thought were ‘too obvious.’ Thankfully, she nods. “Well waffles are a breakfast food. So you’re…supposed to have them in the morning.”

“But…what if I want it at night? Is it against the law?”

“What? No, it’s just–it’s not healthy.”

“Pizza isn’t healthy.” Her expression mirrors his; absolute confusion. “And the cheese feels bad.”

“That…” Shit. She makes a good point. “Hm. Alright new plan. I pick up KFC and we have chicken and waffles. Compromise.”

“Halfway happy.”

“Huh? That…” He doesn’t know who’s worse about ‘introducing El to the world’, Mike or Hopper. “It’s more like making both parties as happy as you can manage. You still get waffles, and since I’m not really a fan, I can get chicken.”

“Why don’t you like waffles?”

“Sticky.” He says simply, shrugging. “Sounds good?”

A smile, a nod, and Steve gets to work. 

– 

El’s asleep by the time Hopper gets back. Their leftovers were long since put away, outside for the plate she insisted Steve put out. Hopper forces a tired smile and takes it, sitting in the armchair beside Steve and El on the couch. 

“I see she convinced you again.”

“She’s got a future in law.” Steve groans. “Did you uh…get a chance to talk to Tommy?”

“Called his folks a little while ago–” He pauses, seeing Steve’s eyes immediately go wide. “I said I’d found graffiti in that alley by the theater again, even if under normal circumstances I would involve them in this.”

“You and I both know they wouldn’t believe you.” 

“Hence why I didn’t. ” Hopper sighs and rubs the space between his eyes. “Can you tell me what specifically he’s done? Anything more than what you said on the phone?” 

“Uh…” Fuck, maybe it wasn’t his right to say this. “He uh…kind of threatened to drown him in the quarry. And…may have attempted to before.” 

“ Jesus. ” His hand goes up from his forehead to brush back his hair. “Ok. Harrassment and attempted murder. Anything else? ” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Wh—it’s not like I was there for all of this!” 

“You—“ He pauses, his face scrunches up. “I…severely misinterpreted this.” 

Steve’s quiet, silence while Hopper moves to put his head in his hands. 

“Kid…if you were…dealing with something like this, and you wanted help, how would you go about asking for it?” 

“I— oh my god you thought I was talking about myself. ” 

“Yup.” 

“Ok—First of all I would never go about it like that. Of course you’d figure it out!”

“That’s kind of the point of the method.” 

“ Second of all, it really is another guy. I just didn’t say who because…he’s uh…I didn’t know if your reaction would change?” 

“Why would my reaction change?” 

“You’re a cop.” 

“ And? ”

“He’s Eddie Munson.” 

A deep breath in. “Well. I have been getting on his ass lately about his little ‘side gig’, but if the guy’s in trouble that’s also my job to deal with.” 

“Oh.” 

“So you’re…really not involved?” 

“I mean, I’m kind of the whole reason this is happening. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“They’re both really vague about it! Tommy said some shit about ‘protecting me’ and Eddie’s under the impression that I like— ordered it or something, which I literally just found out about the whole thing this fucking morning but—I don’t know!” 

Hopper’s about to respond when El cuts him off, groaning and pushing herself up from where she’d fallen asleep on the couch. 

“You’re back.” 

Hopper sighs. “Alright…how about this. El, you go back to your room for the night, and we go outside and talk about this a bit more.” 

“Being outside wouldn’t involve… that …would it?” 

“Well your right hook is a bit off and I know you’re not injured.” 

“Oh yea, naturally, just found out I’m not nursing any injuries so the only course of action is to fix that. Makes total sense.”

Hopper sighs and moves to stand, pressing a kiss to the top of El’s head as the two pass by each other, and despite Steve’s continued complaints over the situation, is briskly followed out the door. 

“Alright,” Hopper’s stance is casual, relaxed, a strong contrast to the growing nervousness plainly visible from Steve. He holds his arms up to block, and motions the kid to start. “Whole situation, start to finish.”

“I don’t really know much.”

“I meant the whole situation with you. ”

“Wh–” Steve sends a quick jab, a bit light, then another a bit stronger. “This isn’t about me.” 

“I’m already working on getting him help, now I’m working on you.”

Steve narrows his eyes and throws another punch. “Don’t need it.”

Hopper throws a punch of his own, a fakeout, shifting his arm when Steve goes to block and grabbing his shoulder instead. “I’ve got time, just tell me about it.”

“You and Max keep making this out to be a whole lot worse than it actually is. It’s fine. I don’t need to vent about it.” 

Hopper raises a brow and lets him go, getting back into his blocking stance and waiting for him to start again.

“They just–” The first punch, this one real–strong, unlike the ones before. “They joke around. Goofing off and shit, not anything serious.”

“They?”

“Him and Robin. Totally hit it off after having the weirdest conversation about like–warranties or something–and then she ditched me for him.” His eyes go wide, both at the phrasing of what he’d said and the sudden increase in strength behind his attacks. “I mean, it’s not like I blame her or anything! He’s cool, like–really cool. Not an issue.”

Hopper hums, blocking the next attack with the palm of his hand and cupping the fist. Steve attempts to tug it back a few times but fails.

“What?”

A sigh, Hopper lets go. 

“Eddie abuses the hell out of the place’s smoke break policy to go talk to her, and either I don’t exist or I’m the object of their own personal amusement, which–again, don’t blame them for. I’m an idiot.”

Hopper’s eyes narrow, Steve pauses for a moment.

“What? ” 

 Hopper shakes his head. “I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“O…k then?” Steve shakes it off and continues. “There was the whole…situation with the migraine thing–”

“Which you should have come to me immediately for, not have Max call Joyce hours later–”

“It was  fine, and she didn’t need to do that–but my point was that–you know…I never actually explained that to them, so they thought I was hungover or something, kinda gave me shit for it but Robin apparently did a metric fuck ton of research about the situation after Max snapped at them so…”

And Munson?”

“Mayfield made him drive me home. Tried to apologize for the absolute mess I was and he–it was probably a bad time to do that. Still on edge from all the shit with Tommy.”

“Kid–” Hopper’s arms fall, motion mirrored by Steve almost immediately. “It’s ok to be upset about this. You know that, right?”

“Why would I be upset? Honestly with everything he’s putting up with he has the right to be worse–”

“But you didn’t actually cause any of this.”

“Well…sure, but he still–”

“Look, if he’s holding a grudge because he thinks you’re the reason he’s being bullied, then yes, I agree with you. But the fact is that you didn’t actually do anything to cause it, so you’re also being wronged here.” 

“I wouldn’t say I’m being wronged by it.”

Hopper huffs. “All I’m saying is you need to talk to him. After I work this out.”

Steve responds with a shrug, picking at his sleeves and avoiding the man’s eyes. 

“Now what’s the rest of it?”

“Huh?"

“The story. I can tell when you’re hiding things, you know.”

“I’m not hiding anything."

Another sigh, quiet but long, as Hopper starts walking back to the cabin, sitting on the front steps and pulling out a cigarette. Steve stands there for a moment, not sure if he should follow, then sits down beside him when Hopper motions to do so. 

“I just–” Steve runs a hand through his hair, making a point to keep his eyes on his shoes, not even glancing Hopper’s way. “I really want him to like me.”

“Yea?”

“Honestly, I wish I’d manned up and talked to him before this, I’d seen him doing his dramatic lunchroom speeches and goofing off in the hallway but he’s–he’ll rant about music like all the time, which is crazy to me because he works in a record shop–but he knows so much about it, and apparently, he’s in a band? I didn’t even know that until he and Robin started talking, and I can’t really ask him about it because he never talks to me , and I really wish he did, but–” Steve stops. “What uh…what am I even talking about? Wow.”

Finally, the boy risks a glance over at Hopper. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, anger, probably, or disgust, confusion? Instead, the man has an almost fond sorta smile. Small, but a smile on his face at all was huge. 

“So, you like this guy?”

“Uh–” He laughs, nervous. “I–I mean sure? Robin tried to…friendship wingman me or something when all this started, it’s not really going well but…yea?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” He looks down again, staring holes through his shoes. “Yea, that too.”

Hopper wordlessly passes a cigarette from his pack, then the lighter when Steve takes it. He shrugs, at Steve’s confused expression, takes a drag of his own, thinks, then finally speaks up.

“So, you’re bisexual?”

“Huh?”

“Well last I recall you and Nancy had a thing for a while, so you’d have to like girls, too, right?”

“I…didn’t know there was a word for it. How do you…?”

“Joyce had a girlfriend in the tenth grade.” Hopper lets out a short laugh, when the kid’s eyes go wide. “We smoked together a lot, she ranted about her all the time. Lot’s of drama about whether they should be out and to who.” 

“That–wow. I–er…” Steve runs his hand through his hair again, keeping it there and gripping it at the roots. 

Again–wordlessly–Hopper puts an arm around him, pulling him to his side so that he rests against his shoulder. “You’re staying the night.”

Steve’s voice breaks when he responds. “I know."

“Ta lk to him, kid. If he’s as good as you say then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” He rubs his hand up and down his arm. “Let’s get you inside.”

Chapter Text

Eddie’s still stewing in the fact that he knew it as he opens the store Sunday morning. He knew Harrington hadn’t changed a fucking inch: he probably realized that Eddie wasn’t fooled and used Hagan to get one last good scare in. Or maybe Hagan went in half-cocked and Harrington apologizing was a lame attempt to fix his underling’s mess. Or maybe -

Eddie shakes his head aggressively, his hair falling out of its loose ponytail as he does. No . Steve Harrington’s motivations do not matter to him one fucking bit. This isn’t a mystery he’s required to solve - all he has to do is stay away from that asshole and he’s golden.

Speaking of, Robin is opening Scoops across from him, with no Harrington in sight.

“Hey, Buckley,” Eddie greets. “How’s it going?”

“Blegh,” she groans. “‘M too tired - who died and made me open on a Sunday morning?”

Eddie frowns. He was pretty sure Harrington was scheduled for today and the bastard works all damn day . 

“Is it just you today?”

“Nah, Steve’ll be in later - he asked the manager to reduce his shifts. I’m, like, 90% certain that the small redheaded girl threatened him.”

Mayfield. Of course. Eddie’s going to have to learn Harrington’s shifts all over again just to play keep away. 

“Too bad. I was hoping that the idiot brigade would stay home for once.”

For once, Robin doesn’t crack a smile. She looks… guilty. Frowning, fidgeting with one of her little bracelets, not making eye contact at all.

“I don’t think we should do that anymore,” she says, looking right past him. 

“What, we can’t make fun of Harrington?” Shit. That’s most of their friendship and it’s the only thing that makes his awful job at all bearable. 

“I’m not saying never ! Just… don’t you think that it’s a bit cruel? Especially the intelligence stuff - he actually has brain damage, that’s hardly his fault.”

Yeah, well, Harrington tried to murder him by proxy, so Eddie thinks any amount of cruelty on his part is justified. 

She pulls at some of her hair absently. “Like, we can still make fun of him for being a preppy snob but… I don’t know. I don’t feel right calling him braindead or anything anymore. It’s not fair .”

Eddie sighs. Is it fair for Eddie to have to see someone who tried to kill him damn near every fucking day? No. Life’s not fair. 

But he’s not about to convince Robin without telling her everything, and something stops his tongue. He’s never told a soul about what happened at the quarry - even Gareth and the boys just think that Eddie got into it with Hagan, nothing more serious than that. Eddie’s no snitch. Never has been, never will be. He’d die before asking a cop for help. He actually might if Harrington and Hagan decide to take him two-on-one.

That’s for future-Eddie to worry about. Present-Eddie decides to shrug at Robin carelessly.

“I still think he’s a dick: you know he and his buddies bullied me, like, all the time, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But - listen, Eddie, are you sure that he’s still that person? Like, really, really sure? Because -”

“I’m sure,” he interrupts. 

“Okay. Well, I’m not. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, you know? I hope… I still wanna be friends with you, too. And, no offense, but he’s not the one that would force me to choose.”

“Yeah. We can be friends. Just don’t ask me to be nice to him.”

“Can’t you ignore him? Again, I’m not saying that we can’t ever make fun of him, but it can’t be a constant thing .”

Eddie briefly juggles the difficulty of spending any amount of time near Harrington without insulting him with the benefits of hanging out with Robin. She wins.

“Alright, fine. He serves a lot of softballs, though, there’s no way I’m ignoring all of them.”

She smiles. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

And that’s that. She opens her store and starts serving small children - really, what are their parents doing, getting them ice cream at eight in the morning - while Eddie sits at the register in complete boredom. Nothing interesting is happening. Harrington may yet be the bane of Eddie’s existence, but man is he good for some entertainment.

Even Dawn isn’t around to liven things up a little. She completely ignores him to the point that it’s become a sort of game. Like, how ridiculous can he be before she finally breaks and says something about it? So far, she has no upper limit - last time he told her he was going on a break to sacrifice small animals to Lord Beelzebub and she didn’t even blink. 

Eddie goes on one real smoke break - the most recent Hagan incident gave him the jitters - and just abandons the record store entirely at lunch to pal around with Robin in the back of Scoops. She bangs a few irregular conjugations through his thick skull over a pair of sandwiches. 

Harrington comes in after lunch. 

Eddie tries to ignore him. Really, he does. That’s the best response to a proper bully, anyway: the only thing they care about is a reaction. 

But Harrington looks happy . Bright, easy, and rested, and it’s so fucking unfair because Eddie spent the last few nights wondering if Hagan would break in and kill him while he sleeps. 

Eddie glares at him. Maybe he’ll spontaneously develop laser vision and explode Harrington’s empty head with his mind. Anything could happen!

Will and Jonathan Byers make a beeline for Scoops less than ten minutes after Harrington walks in (yes, Eddie’s been counting). Eddie smirks and closes the store for an unofficial break. This is something he wants to see.

Jonathan Byers has just as much reason to hate Harrington as Eddie. Maybe even more - the rumors say that they had a massive fight over Nancy Wheeler a few years ago. King Steve almost never gets his hands dirty, so whatever happened must have been big to get that asshole to throw a fucking punch. Eddie gets delegates and peons - Jonathan gets the personal touch.

He hovers near the corner of Scoops, trying to blend into the walls. Robin looks at him with a raised eyebrow. Eddie just shakes his head and points at the Byers. Watch and learn, Buckley . 

She’ll see.

Harrington smiles down at Will. “Ahoy, sailor. You guys going to a movie?”

“Nope,” Will says, “just some ice cream. Jonathan wants to go to the record store, too.”

Harrington’s smile wobbles, the little faker. “Looks like it’s closed right now, bud. You might need to wait a while.”

“That’s okay. We can walk around for a while!”

“Well, in that case, what can I get for you?”

“Strawberry, please,” Will says. “One scoop in a cup.”

“One scoop of mint chocolate chip in a cup for me, thanks.”

Harrington frowns. “Mint chocolate chip? That’s, like, the worst flavor. It’s like eating toothpaste, man - what’s wrong with you?”

Eddie bites a smile into his palm. He knew it. Harrington can’t keep his shit to himself, and there’s no way Jonathan doesn’t respond. Although -

Harrington’s right: mint chocolate chip is a terrible choice. Well, even a broken clock, as Wayne would say.

Jonathan smiles. “Alright. What would you recommend?”

Harrington rubs his chin with his thumb in thought. “I like butterscotch, but that’s probably too sweet for you. Maybe rum raisin? Or, no, butter pecan: it’s got a similar texture to mint chocolate chip.”

Alright. Here it comes. If Eddie were Jonathan, he’d just get his original thing anyway and lord it over Harrington a little bit. 

Jonathan says, “Sounds good, man. One scoop of that.”

What ?

“Coming right up!”

Harrington gets their ice cream while chatting with Will about… no way. No way are they talking about Dungeons and Dragons right in front of Eddie’s face.

“I like DMing a lot, but I really miss playing a character. Will the Wise hasn’t leveled up in ages !”

“Why can’t you ask Wheeler to switch?”

“We’re in the middle of a campaign! We can’t switch now, that would be crazy.” 

“Oh, like changing coaches in the middle of a match? I get it. I still think you should talk to him about it - maybe he can do the next big campaign instead. Or maybe one of the other kids wants to have a turn at the wheel? I think Dustin would have fun with it.”

“Maybe.” Will frowns at the floor. “He’s kind of sadistic, though. I’m not sure I want him DMing.”

“True. Oh, I know!” Harrington snaps his fingers. “Ask Lucas to do the next one.”

“Lucas doesn’t want to DM.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“...No.”

“Then ask him! Worst thing he can do is say no, but I don’t think he will. Seriously, Byers, if you and Mike want a break and you don’t trust Dustin, then Lucas is your best bet.”

“Okay, okay! You’ve convinced me.”

What the fuck is happening right now? Did Eddie fall into T he Twilight Zone ? Is he in an alternate universe right now?

Harrington is a prep jock asshole. He can’t talk about D&D without sneering or making shitty jokes. It’s just not natural.

Jonathan ruffles Will’s hair. “Come on, let’s get going. We can’t harass Steve all day. Right, Steve?” He winks.

Harrington turns bright red. “Yeah,” he chokes. “Right.”

Eddie blinks. His gaydar is screaming ‘queer located’ about Steve fucking Harrington of all people. 

“How much is it?” 

“Don’t -” Harrington clears his throat. “Don’t worry about it. Free of charge.”

Jonathan turns to Robin. “How much?”

“$7.25,” she responds.

“Thanks.” He slaps a ten down on the counter. “Keep the change, Steve.”

Harrington sputters something about not accepting it while Jonathan completely ignores him and walks out. 

Eddie goes back to the record store in a daze. Robin shouts after him, but, to be perfectly honest, he barely hears her.

Harrington and Jonathan should hate each other. They fought over the same girl. Jonathan stole his girl, and, according to what Eddie’s heard, the breakup was extremely nasty. Fighting in the bathroom, storming out of the house, the whole nine yards. He knows that the Hawkins rumor mill is generally untrustworthy, but it was the only thing anyone at school wanted to talk about the next day.

Well, that and Billy Hargrove . Eddie rolls his eyes - that’s one obsession he truly doesn’t understand. Hargrove isn’t even cute. 

And that bit at the end there - if the whole exchange had been just barely leashed tension Eddie would assume that the extra money was some kind of power play on Jonathan’s part. Instead, it reads as a guy trying to keep his friend from spending money on him - something that Eddie’s own friends do all the time. Gareth is always sneaking money into Eddie’s bag after getting drugs from him because Eddie refuses to let him pay. It’s a whole thing .

And the blushing! What the hell is that about? Does Harrington have some kind of crush on Jonathan? 

Eddie can almost see it. Harrington could definitely be closeted, that checks out, but… why wouldn’t Jonathan say anything? He didn’t even look uncomfortable.

Actually, he was almost encouraging it. The wink - that was very homosexual in Eddie’s opinion. Maybe he’s trying to make fun of Harrington?

But Jonathan is a good guy, and -

Eddie rests his head on the counter. This is giving him a headache. Absolutely none of it makes any kind of sense. 

“Are you… open?”

Eddie looks up. The current object that his brain has very inconveniently decided to focus on is standing right in front of him.

“Uh. Yes! Yes, we are. How can I help you?”

“Do you guys have Stop Making Sense ?”

The Talking Heads ? And here he thought Jonathan had a chance in hell of being cool. 

“Yeah,” he says reluctantly, “it’s in the left corner over there.”

“Thanks.”

Jonathan pulls out the album after searching for a minute. He looks longingly at a few other things - The Clash, Psychedelic Furs, Devo - but ultimately only buys Stop Making Sense .

“You a big Heads fan?” Eddie might as well ask - maybe Jonathan just really enjoys New Wave or something.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile, “but it’s not for me. I already have this album.”

“Who’s it for?” Please say girlfriend or brother.

“My friend, Steve. You might know him - he works across from here at the ice cream place.”

Eddie can’t help pulling a face. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

Jonathan hands him a ten for the record and doesn’t say anything else. Eddie swallows - there’s something about Jonathan’s dead-fish stare that makes him a little uncomfortable. Like he’s being judged .

“I gotta ask: are you really friends with him?”

Jonathan nods. “Yeah.”

“ Why ?”

“Why… am I friends with him?”

“Yes!” Eddie explodes. “He’s awful . He’s a bully, a shithead, an idiot, a manipulative piece of shit, a liar, and the most egotistical person I have ever met. And you -” Eddie gestures to Jonathan, “are a weirdo! A freak! Why the hell are you hanging out with him? Are you trying to get popular?”

“I don’t think hanging out with Steve will get me popularity. All of those people hate him now, and he hates them right back.”

The bottom drops out of Eddie’s stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you go to Hawkins High? I mean, I don’t pay attention to the whole popularity contest thing, but I thought everybody knew that Steve dropped his old crowd. He’s not cool anymore. Honestly, he might have had it worse than me last year - everybody was taking cheap potshots at him towards the end.”

“He’s not… cool? He doesn’t hang out with Hagan?”

“No,” Jonathan shakes his head. “He hasn’t talked to Hagan since, like, last Halloween. Anyway, I gotta go - my brother is probably bothering Steve again. See you later.”

“Bye,” Eddie says quietly.

His head whirls. Last Halloween . Hagan met him at the quarry for a deal on November tenth. Eddie knows - he couldn’t forget that day if he tried. If Jonathan is right, if he’s telling the truth, then Hagan did that on his own. 

Eddie puts his head in his hands. Is Jonathan telling the truth? Maybe - maybe he is trying to get popular. This could be all some big fucking scheme from all three of them to… trick Eddie? 

Christ. He needs to get a grip. He can believe that Hagan and Harrington are involved in a conspiracy to mess with him, but Jonathan Byers? The guy spends literally all his free time taking care of his little brother and taking nature photos. There’s no fucking way he’s evil enough for that.

So maybe he’s wrong. Maybe everybody’s wrong: Robin, Mayfield, Jonathan, they’ve all been fooled by Harrington. 

Why would he do that much work to get some random band chick, a small child, and a guy that he should despise to like him? What’s the point ? It’s a lot of effort for very little reward. 

Eddie runs his hands through his hair restlessly and paces the store. If Jonathan hasn’t been tricked and he’s not lying, then Harrington must not be as bad as Eddie thinks he is. He… might not even be bad at all.

So why would he try to befriend Eddie? What was that about? Come on, Munson, think , this is important.

Steve did ring his gay bells in a big way just a minute ago. So… Harrington decided to become friends with the only other queer guy he knew about. It’s possible .

Or maybe he’s just nice. Maybe there’s no grand conspiracy at all, no ulterior motives. Steve could very well just be a good guy that wants to make friends with someone he’s working across from for the next three months.

And Eddie’s been acting like a fucking asshole .

He stops in the middle of the store, clenching his fists. Steve could still be a dick to people he doesn’t know well. Maybe he’s just nice to children! Or… something like that.

Fuck .

There’s only one thing to do. Eddie has to go straight to the source if he wants real answers. And this time, instead of just assuming the absolute worst of Steve, Eddie’s going to look . He’s going to pay attention . 

He’s going to figure out the truth, one way or another.

Chapter Text

Eddie takes about two hours to work himself up to the conversation. The two haven’t spoken one on one since one of their first interactions, and it wasn’t really something he’d consider a ‘conversation’. 

He avoids the store in that time, keeping to himself behind his register and casting what he hopes are unnoticed glances their way, taking a completely unbiased look at how Steve interacts with people. He really does seem to be in a good mood, smiles more genuine than they were before, which for some reason makes Eddie’s stomach churn in an uncomfortable way.

He doesn’t…see any actual evidence for his previous opinions of him. No snide remarks or judging glares the second a customer turns their back. Robin will occasionally snicker about one customer in particular, whispering conspiratorially in Steve’s ear, the comment making him laugh and whisper back, but it’s the sort of shit him and Robin do. 

The whole idea makes his head spin, so when Steve heads to the back room, Eddie has to take a few deep breaths before even attempting to step close, he genuinely contemplates sprinting back to the safety of the record store when Robin raises her brow at his appearance.

“I can’t take my lunch till Steve’s done.”

“I know.” Why does he feel so nervous? “I uh…was going to talk with him, actually.”

Her brow shoots up a bit higher, and really, he shouldn’t fault her for being so confused by him. He’s confused by him. 

“Is he in the back?” Eddie asks, after Robin doesn’t respond.

“He said he was going to smoke outside.” She says, and lets him pass through to the register, but stops him before he goes through the back door. “I’m serious, Eddie. I trust you, so whatever grudge you’ve got has merit, but–”

“I’m not antagonizing him.” She doesn’t back off. “Really, I’m not! Just…confirming a theory.”

“Theory?”

If I’m right, I’ll back off–keeping in mind I still hate his guts–and if you’re right I’ll…” He shudders. “Be…nice to him.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Robin’s eyes narrow, but eventually she shrugs and lets him pass. 

For some reason, Steve isn’t actually smoking when he walks outside. He’s got a small bag, pulling out bandages inside and rewrapping his knuckles, old bandages tossed on the ground beside him. 

One point to Eddie, that’s suspicious as fuck.

“Hey.”

Steve jumps, honest to god jumps, and freezes in place. “Uh…hi?”

“Just taking a smoke break, keep doin what you’re doin.” Perfect. Completely casual vibe was established. “What’s with your hands?”

“Oh!” Steve tries to hide them, slipping them behind his jacket, before slowly pulling them back out at Eddie’s confusion. “It’s uh…kind of embarrassing.”

“You get in a fight or something?”

Steve winces at that–and Eddie decides that’s another point for his side–bites his lip and looks as though he’s contemplating. Eventually, he goes back to wrapping his hands.

“You uh…you know how I got into that fight with Hargrove?”

“Yea dude, everyone knows about that.”

Another wince. He isn’t sure what side that counts for.

“Well, uh…I lost…rather spectacularly, like–an embarrassing amount. And since I apparently have a habit of biting off more than I can chew during–” He pauses. “Well, I guess I have a habit of pissing people off, basically–so Hopper’s kind of started…training me, I guess? Just basic self-defense stuff.”

Alright then. Points resigned. 0 for 1 in Robin’s favor. 

“Right now, he’s working on my punching skills, and as you can see…” He does a little jazz hand motion, showing off the bandages, now fully wrapped. “I’m pretty shit at it!”

“Oh yea? Show me what you got.” 

“Huh?”

“Mhm! Here–I’ll throw a punch, you block.” Eddie gets in a fighting stance, hands balled into fists doing fake punching motions–his cigarette still burning in his mouth.

Steve laughs, and at first Eddie thinks he’s about to make fun of him–only for Steve to take his hands and pull the thumbs out from the fists. “Well–first off you’ll break your fingers like that.”

0 for 2. Hm. 

“I knew that! I was just making sure you noticed.” His nervousness only seems to grow, he’s not even sure why. “I’m actually a secret black belt, I’ve been taking classes since the third grade and–”

He throws a punch mid-sentence in an attempt to catch Steve off guard, only for the man to slip to the side, grab and tug his arm forward, and snatch the cigarette straight from his mouth. He takes a long drag and grins.

“And apparently you haven’t been paying attention.

0 for 3? 1 for 2?  

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For taking my cigarette?” Eddie shrugs and grabs another. “You earned it.”

“I–no, not that."

The air of confidence leaves him just as quick as it appeared. Steve tugs at the cuffs of his jacket, avoids Eddie’s eyes.

“I talked to Tommy the other day.”

Eddie stills, he doesn’t respond, doesn’t think he can will himself to speak. 

“You were right, this was on me. I thought if I just told him not to do certain things he’d listen, and as it turns out he just…went behind my back, I guess. Shoulda known, especially after we broke things off.”

“I didn’t know you two weren’t friends.”

“Yea, we got into this huge fight around uh…two years ago now? Dude crossed a line, or–I crossed a line of my own and–I don’t know. I just started realizing how bad things were. Told him and Carol to fuck right off and drove away.”

But I thought everybody knew that Steve dropped his old crowd. He’s not cool anymore.

“And after that?”

“After that he just kept rubbing shit in my face. God–spent a good year just lording blackmail over eachother’s head to see who’d crumple first. Oh, which, by the way, if he gives you trouble again just say ‘September 2nd 1982’. He’ll start crying.”

“Deadass?”

“I’m serious! We got in another fight after the whole…public breakup thing with Nance, said one too many snide comments, so I pulled that card, and he’s avoided me like the plague ever since.”

He hasn’t talked to Hagan since, like, last Halloween.

“Though, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Eddie sucks in a breath. “Why? You beat him up or somethin?”

“What? No! I–I mean I kinda lost my cool when I saw him punch you in the fucking gut–” Three points. Probably up to four if he was being honest. “But I didn’t–did he look beat up?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t seen him.” A pause. “You…saw all that?”

“Er–yea. I was trying to find you, you know…apologize for the headache thing?

“Oh.”

“But uh…yea. Me intimidating him wouldn’t do much, clearly. Trying something else right now but, I mean obviously if it doesn’t work let me know. I owe you that much.” 

Fuck, he may as well throw out the whole damn board. 

Eddie shifts uncomfortably, curls in on himself and lets his hair fall over his face. “I uh…” He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and bites his lip. “I’m sorry, too.”

“What for?”

Holy fucking shit.

“Being a dick? A total asshole? Constant revenge for a fuckup you didn’t even know about?”

“You had a lot of evidence against me, dude. I’d think the same thing in your situation, no harm done.”

Eddie takes a long drag, choking on it a bit in the process. “ Jesus H Christ. ”

“What?”

“Ok. Ok! How about this?” Eddie lets his hair move back behind his shoulders, sticking out his hand. “Let’s uh…start over? Robin seems to think you’re pretty cool, so I guess I’ll give you a shot.”

“She…thinks I’m cool?”

“Well, she thinks you’re a total dork, but she’s been a real guard dog lately, so I guess you’re someone worth protecting.” 

“I–uh–oh! Um–yea! Ok, yea–” Steve fumbles over his words a bit, before finally noticing the hand held out in front of him, which he gives a quick shake. Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes.

“Oh.” Eddie’s smile turns more mischievous, flicking the hair over Steve’s right ear to show off the small metal ring on his helix. “Nice earring, by the way.”

Eddie walks back inside before Steve has the chance to respond, smile still wide on his face once he walks out of the backroom. 

“Little chat go well?” Robin asks as he slips under the counter door.

“Yep. Guess you got good judgment, Buckley.” 

“Damn right I do.”

Chapter Text

Steve is having a bit of a strange day. A strange life, if he’s being honest. 

He’s wanted all this time for Eddie to like him, or at least not actively despise him, and now that it’s happened Steve doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Like, obviously he’s not going to be a dick, but beyond that… 

Steve isn’t the plans guy for a reason. He doesn’t even know what, exactly, convinced Eddie to give him a shot, so he can’t even keep doing that. He has no winning strategy.

Even Robin can’t help him.

“Just be yourself!” She says, like that’s at all helpful. Nobody likes Steve for himself . 

Steve must’ve done something. Something that made him look cool and suave, like someone worth knowing. He’s sure of it. If only he could figure out what that something was and repeat it until Eddie likes him back.

Maybe it was showing Eddie how to throw a punch? Guys who fight are cool, even if Steve basically admitted to losing all the time. He throws a few practice punches idly while waiting for customers.

Robin snorts. “Look at the prizefighter over here.”

Steve grins in response. “You think I got a shot at the belt?”

“Oh, absolutely. In the toddler division.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Robin puts her fists up. Steve almost cringes - her stance is horrible.

“Robin - no, that’s awful. You have to - feet apart, come on -”

She dances away from him, nearly falling over herself. “You’re just mad that I’m better.”

Suddenly, a hand lands on her shoulder. Robin jumps, and this time she really does fall down.

Eddie grins down at her. “You could use a little stability.”

“Shut it.” She stands, ignoring Steve and Eddie's helping hands and fluffing her hair. “I’m perfect.”

“You’re something,” Steve mutters. 

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “ please tell me there’s something interesting going on over here. If I have to sell one more Madonna record I’m gonna tear my hair out.”

Steve frowns. What’s wrong with Madonna? She’s fun!

“Nope,” Robin pops the p. “We’ve barely even had customers today - I think it’s the cold snap.”

Steve nods in agreement. It’s about ten degrees colder out than it should be, and everyone is taking the opportunity to sit outside without baking their skin off. That is, everyone except for them, who have to stand and suffer in the air-conditioned mall. It’s almost chilly: Steve is very jealous of the fact that Eddie doesn’t have an official uniform. The bastard gets a jacket and everything.

“Are your kids up to anything?” She asks, turning to Steve.

“They’re not my kids,” Steve protests.

“They really are.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask; how do you know all those kids, Steve?” Eddie’s head is titled curiously. He looks cute, sort of like a really adorable puppy when he's trying to understand something. Steve keeps his smile to himself.

“Oh, well, one of them is Nancy’s brother. I babysat a couple of times, and the rest just kind of attached themselves like a bunch of barnacles.”

“And that’s as much as he’s gonna tell you,” Robin says. “Seriously, I asked him so many questions and all he gave me was ‘babysitting’.”

Eddie frowns. “So, do their parents pay you, or… ?”

“Nah. I don’t mind, though - they’re good kids.” When they’re not busy giving Steve aneurysms, that is. Every single one of them is danger-happy.

“Speaking of Steve’s children.” Robin points to the mall entrance, where Will and Mike are speeding on a path straight to Scoops. “Looks like we’re about to get some free entertainment.”

Steve sighs. Will and Mike are walking with purpose. They’re not here for a fun little chat, which means Steve probably has to deal with something. God, he hopes nobody’s lost a cat - once was enough.

Mike stomps in, a scowl on his angry little face. Will looks angry, too, but he’s not at the point where he’s about to blow up just yet, which means that whatever’s going on here is still salvageable.

“What’s up?” Steve asks.

“Will won’t listen to me,” Mike says.

“Mike’s acting like a jerk,” Will says.

Both of those things are probably true.

Steve points at Will. “Byers, you go first.”

Will smirks in victory, which makes Mike scowl even more. 

“So, I was talking to Mike about how I don’t want to DM the next campaign - like you suggested - and he said that he doesn’t want to do it at all, and Lucas is too busy making out with Max anyway to care about D&D anymore, and Dustin is a maniac, so if I’m done maybe this should be our last campaign!” Will pants, entirely out of breath from spewing all that out in one go.

Steve nods slowly. “Okay. Wheeler, what’s the deal?”

“I don’t want to DM, and Will doesn’t want to do it, so that’s that. It’s not like we can’t do other stuff! Maybe it’s time to let it go.”

“Why don’t you want to DM?”

“It’s a lot of work, and it takes forever, and I never really get to have any fun.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Eddie says, suddenly appearing right next to Steve . Wasn’t he three feet back with Robin, like, a second ago?

“You see, Wheeler, DMing is fun, but only if you’re doing it right. You’re making up the story, you’re planning the fights, you’re giving them cursed weapons, so on and so forth. It’s great: none of my players trust me for shit.”

Mike blinks up at Eddie, wide-eyed and a little red in the face. “You… play D&D?”

“I’m a forever DM,” Eddie explains. “The key is to make your own fun. Plus, there are tons of shortcuts to save on work. I haven’t made a map in literal years.”

“But -” Mike’s eyes shoot between Steve and Eddie, clear confusion in his gaze. “How?”

Eddie gestures to one of the tables. “Let’s chat.”

Mike nods and follows Eddie to the table. Robin calls, “you need to order something if you’re going to stick around,” to which Eddie flips her off.

“Strawberry in a cup?” Steve says to Will, who’s staring after Mike and Eddie in a way that Steve recognizes from looking in the mirror. He spent a lot of time looking at Nancy and Jonathan like that. 

“What?” He glances back at Steve. Poor kid - Steve didn’t know Mike had it in him either, really. 

“Your order. You want strawberry in a cup, yeah?”

“Oh. No. I’m… a little cold, actually.”

Steve’s hand twitches reflexively. Will’s wearing his usual summertime outfit - shorts and a t-shirt. The mall could easily be mistaken for the arctic circle on a normal day. Today, when the sun isn’t blazing and the wind is up, it’s downright chilly. 

“Let’s get you -”

Shit, no. Steve gave Will his jacket ages ago, didn’t he? He keeps forgetting to ask for it back. 

Okay, no jacket. What else can Steve do?

“Hey, Robin, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, I guess. What’s the favor?”

“The Chinese place serves green tea, right? Can you go get some?”

She looks at Will: he’s starting to quake in his thin shorts. “Sure thing,” she says, and she dashes off.

Okay, what else? Body heat? That’s supposed to help. 

But if Will is on the verge of a panic attack, he might not want to be touched right now. Steve is going to have to approach this carefully.

“Hey, do you want to go outside?” It’s a little warmer out of the mall, and the open air might help. Will shakes his head vigorously.

“Maybe we could move into the back?”

Again, Will shakes his head. He’s standing there, gasping for air, trembling more and more by the second, his skin pale and the vein in his neck throbbing in time with his too-fast heart. 

“Okay, well -”

“Just leave me alone!”

Steve winces. Robin, just coming back in with a travel cup of green tea, jumps and drops it, the liquid spilling all over the floor. Eddie and Mike turn to them - Eddie has an eyebrow raised, confused but not very concerned, while Mike leans forward out of his seat.

Will sinks to the floor. “Leave me alone,” he repeats.

Steve steps back. He’s good at listening to directions. “Alright. I’ll stay over here.” He glances at Mike, and they have an entire conversation with an extremely complicated series of hand gestures and eyebrow movements.

Steve gestures vaguely at Will and wiggles his eyebrows. Help me out here .

Mike gives him a thumbs-down. Can’t .

Steve frowns and points at Will more aggressively. What do I do ?

Mike places a hand on his chest and takes a deep breath. Help him breathe .

Steve nods. He can do that. 

He turns back to Will, who’s completely curled into himself, the very top of his bowl cut visible. 

“Hey, Will? Do you think you could match my breathing?”

Will doesn’t answer. Steve shrugs - he probably can't make things any worse, even if he has to embarrass himself a little bit . He crouches down.

“One in.” Steve inhales loudly . The store isn’t usually this empty, but when it is, just about every sound echoes in a way that’s honestly a little creepy. But, hey, it’s helping him out right now, so Steve is very grateful for that. He holds, and then he exhales. He repeats that and watches.

It takes a long time for Will to calm down. Or maybe it just feels like a long time: Steve’s not known for being patient. It doesn’t matter if he’s impatient, though: he would crouch on the slightly-sticky floor all damn day if it made Will feel even a tiny bit better. 

Eventually, Will stops shivering so hard that Steve can hear his teeth chatter, and his head peaks back out of his arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Are you still cold?”

Will nods. His face is bright red, and he’s very deliberately looking only at Steve.

“Here,” Eddie says, dropping his jacket around Will’s shoulders. “Keep that for as long as you need.”

Now Will is the one looking at Eddie like he’s hung every star in the sky. Steve gets it: he has no high ground to take regarding crushes on Eddie Munson.

“But won’t you get cold?” Will asks.

Eddie’s wearing some band shirt. What the hell is a Judas Priest , anyway? It’s definitely seen better days: personally speaking, Steve would only wear something that thin if he really didn’t want to do laundry. 

Steve can definitely appreciate it, though. He can almost make out the flat plane of Eddie’s stomach if he squints.

“I’ll be fine. You wanna come talk with me and Wheeler about maps?”

Will nods excitedly. “Yes!”

Eddie helps Will stand. Will pulls his hand out of Eddie’s, slowly and shyly, and walks over to the table.

They spend all day sitting there and don’t order a thing. Robin’s a little annoyed by the end of the day, even though they don’t really get any other customers anyway, so who cares? Steve doesn’t care: Will’s gone from a full panic attack to smiling and laughing within a half hour. Steve couldn’t have made that happen. Hell, he doubts Mike alone could’ve made that happen.

It’s all due to the force of Eddie’s sheer personality. His sweeping, gesturing hands, his sly smiles, his big words, his silly voices: all of it makes both of the kids relax in almost an instant.

Steve is very careful not to watch them while Robin is looking. He doesn’t even want to know what his face is doing right now, although he can make a pretty good fucking guess.

Christ. If he didn’t already have a crush on Eddie, this right here would seal the deal. 

Eddie waves them off after a few hours with Mike’s repeated insistence that they don’t need a ride. He’s got his jacket in his arms but hasn’t put it back on, despite the fact that Steve can clearly see goosebumps forming on Eddie’s arms. 

“I’m stealing your kids,” is what he says when the two finally turn a corner.

“I have more.” 

“Are they all like that?”

Steve shrugs. “You mean nerdy? Some more than others, but yeah, basically. The coolest one of the bunch is the local Dig Dug champion.” God, Eddie is going to adore Dustin. Steve’s been missing him like a limb ever since the kid went to camp: this is just another story he’s going to have to tell Dustin when he finally gets home. With all the parts where Steve stared dreamily at Eddie edited out, of course.

“Seriously, are you guys looking for, like, a cool uncle or something? I can definitely fill any available role.”

Steve can think of something Eddie could - 

No . He is at work . Calm down, Harrington.

“Haha,” Steve laughs, a little nervously. “Yeah, maybe.” He clears his throat. “I’m sort of like a mom, a brother, and a babysitter - trust me, there are plenty of hats to wear with that group.”

“Fun uncle it is. I’m gonna spoil them so hard, man.”

Robin sighs. “Can’t I have one friend that doesn’t want to hang out with children? We work at a mall, Eddie - don’t you get enough at your job?”

Eddie shoots a conspiratorial glance at Steve. “Not all of us hate the younger generation, Buckley. Some people want to see the world grow.”

Is Eddie… making fun of Robin? And expecting Steve to join in?

Eddie winks. Oh , that’s absolutely what’s happening right now.

Steve could be nice. He’s been on the receiving end of a double team for weeks on end - he knows it doesn’t feel swell. On the other hand, Robin is a cold, cold woman. Who doesn’t like kids? More specifically, who doesn’t like Steve’s kids (because, yes, he can admit that they’re his, if only in his own head)?

“Yeah, Robin. We’ll never get anywhere as a society if we just shut children in their homes all the time.”

She glances between them, and instead of being upset, she laughs. “You two can be the teachers. I’ll be… that one aunt who only shows up at Christmas. My only advice: never drink wine on an empty stomach.”

“I would pay to see you drunk,” Eddie says instantly. “I bet anything you’re a lightweight.”

“Shut up and go back to your own store, you freeloader.”

“Hey! Eddie provides a great service to at least half the employees.” Steve can’t help butting in: it’s make fun of Robin day. This sort of thing only happens once a millennia.

“What’s that?” She asks, eyebrow raised.

Don’t say eye candy. “He’s a great decorative prop.” Nailed it.

Eddie tosses his hair back with a cackle. “Aw, you think I look nice? That’s sweet.” He pats Steve’s cheek, a little bit mocking. Steve feels himself flush.

Eddie blinks. His big, dark eyes lock on Steve’s red cheeks. He grins, lazy and full of teeth.

“See you later, Robin. Stevie.”

And then he’s gone.

Stevie ?

Oh, no. Steve is not going to be normal about that . No way, no how. Yet another thing he is one-hundred percent not telling Dustin about.

Chapter Text

“I’m not sick.”

Steve and Eddie groan in perfect unison, Steve banging the back of his head against the wall while Eddie leans against the counter. 

“What? It’s allergies– ” Robin cuts herself off with a coughing fit, loud and long, leaving her breathless after. “My shift ends in like…an hour, ok?”

Eddie frowns. “Don’t you bike home?” 

Robin frowns as well, narrows her eyes and chugs the cup of coffee she has on hand–the third she’d had this shift–and tosses it in the trash. She grabs another cup and goes to the back to make another cup, only for Steve to snatch the cup from her hands.

“Come on Rob, you can’t be serious.” Steve holds the cup just out of reach. “You can’t get onto me for migraines and then do the same exact thing.” 

Robin rolls her eyes and tries snatching the cup one more time, only to throw in the towel and go back to the front. 

“No use, hm?” Eddie says with a smug smile, grin widening at Robin’s responding grumbling. “Guess the big lug and you have something in common?”

“No. No no how dare you even insinuate it.” 

“Is there perhaps something wrong with what I’m insinuating? I’m just saying, sometimes I see the two of you interacting and you look like creepy twins or something.”

Robin's suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea at the very thought, still dry heaving when Steve steps back out.

“Alright! Coffee maker is now suitably hidden!” He steps in with a bright smile, faltering slightly at the sight of them. “Is…something wrong?”

“I’ve been…” She gags. “Compared to you.”

Eddie sees the physical manifestation of Steve’s mental guesswork–furrowed brows for half a second to him rolling his eyes, and eventually, opening his mouth to reply–only for the process to be cut short by another coughing fit. The two stay silent until she’s done, loud hacking turning to small wheezing breaths. Once she’s finished Steve huffs and speaks up. 

“I owe you, right?”

“Huh?”

“For covering for me the other day. Just stay in the back and I’ll drive you home during my break.”

Robin starts to protest, even tries to come back to the front soon after he does, only to receive glares from the two in response for her efforts. 

“So, how goes that job of yours?” 

“Oh, it’s going great! Especially the part where I’m not doing it.”  

“Ah, yes. That part.” Steve glances past Eddie, squinting across the mall to the Record Shop storefront. Eddie turns his head to follow the gaze, and smiles–complete dead zone, just like he’d left it. 

Eddie feels the awkward tension in the air again–eerily reminiscent of their first one on one conversation. They hadn’t had many of those, Eddie making a point to avoid him up until the day prior, and all of their reactions since being mediated by the currently out of commission Robin.

He could say something. Though everything that comes to mind is either an insult or way too personal for this level of friendship–not that he’s ever been uncomfortable with diving right into a close dynamic! It’s just that Steve’s…different–

“Uh, hello? Is this place open?”

“Hm?” Steve perks up–literally perks up! He sees a small girl in a bright pink pair of overalls and puffy pigtails and looks relieved at the sight, despite both him and Eddie full and well knowing what her presence brings. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Right.” She taps her foot expectantly, as Eddie contemplates returning to the desert that is his place of business.

“Ok! How about this, Sinclair.” Ah. Sinclair, that explains the resemblance. “I guess your favorite flavor, and you stop taking advantage of a loophole that wastes both my time and my spoons.”

“Gee, wouldn’t want anything to happen to your spoons. ”

“I only have like…five left. I’m almost out of spoons.” He feigns genuine distress–or at least Eddie assumes he feigns it, sometimes Steve’s a bit of a hard read, especially now that he doesn’t assume everything that comes out of his mouth is fake. “Just let me have three goes at it.”

“Three? That’s awfully generous.”

“That’s just to get you off my back for today, the offer will reset the next time you come in.”

Erica hums, thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure. Three guesses.”

Steve grins bright enough at that Eddie feels the need to squint. “Ok! Ok uh…Peanut butter.”

“Nope.”

“Banana?”

“Nuh uh.”

Steve furrows his brows and stays silent for a minute. “Peppermint stick!”

Erica stays silent for a while as well, long enough that the two start to believe he’s actually got it, only for her to let out a long sigh and shake her head. “Not in the slightest.”

“You try it at least three times every day you come here.”

She takes a second to respond. “I try every flavor as adequately as I need to to make a decision. And I’d like to try some flavors today.”

Steve groans and grabs his five remaining sample spoons, and starts following the ones she points to–her third being Peppermint stick, which Steve grumbles about–before she’s cut off by a loud coughing fit in the back.

“Your friend ok back there?” She asks, leaning to the side to look past him.

Steve casts a worried glance, then another, biting his lip and looking as though he were weighing his options. 

“You know what?” Both Eddie and Steve are pulled from their temporary daze, turning back to her and waiting for her to continue. “I’ll have one scoop of the Peppermint stick.”

Steve mechanically scoops it out for her, takes the change and doesn’t process the event until the girl’s out the door.

“Oh my god?”

Eddie blinks. “Has she…ever done that before?”

“I don’t think she’s ever ordered before.”

A loud sneeze, then a groan, and the two finally make their way to the back room, where Robin has her cheek pressed against the cold table with her eyes squeezed shut.

“Ok, fine. I’m sick. I’m sick! I have weaknesses!”

“Neither one of us ever thought otherwise.” Eddie deadpans, though his tone grows concerned almost instantly. “I can drive you home.”

Steve lets out a sort of whiny hum, and his eyes are visibly scrunched up when Eddie turns to face him.

“What?”

“Did you…purposely drive worse to fuck with me or is that just…you?”

Eddie blinks, then turns back to Robin. “Scoops is temporarily closed, Steve can drive you home.”

Steve rolls his eyes and helps Robin stand–she still protests that offer for help, admittance of weakness or no–and walks the two of them out of the store. Eddie follows them out that far, then stops them before they start making their way outside.

“Hey uh…call me? Just so I know she got home safe.”

Steve blinks. “I uh–I don’t have your…”

“Oh!” Eddie pats his front pockets, then the back ones, then shoves his hands into his jacket, before pulling out a pen, grabbing Steve’s wrist, and writing out his number. “There.”

“That uh–thanks. Thank you. For that. Do you need?--”

“I’ll be sure to get your’s when you call.” Eddie winks and finally lets go of Steve’s wrist, hand sliding away gently as he did. “Just don’t abuse this, ok?”

With that, Eddie quickly runs off back to the Scoop’s storefront, leaving Steve to linger until Robin finally manages to tug him out the door.

–

“Remind me…” Robin groans and reaches for her seatbelt, letting out a huff once she clicks it locked. “To add a point to You Rule…when I get back.”

“I uh–” Steve glances down to the number on his wrist, then forces himself to focus on the road. “I thought that was just for…romantic endeavors.”

“A number’s a number.” Robin shrugs, curling up in her seat and forcing herself to squint through the window. “Turn right.”

Steve hums, much preferring the awkward silence over any more of Robin’s barely filtered pressing. She gives the occasional direction, but other than that uses her energy to focus on not passing out in his car, which she does the moment he gets her onto her couch inside. 

“Wait, Robin–” Steve pokes her side, ignoring the responding groan. “When are your parents getting back?”

She groans again. “I dunno…a few hours maybe?”

“And will they kill me if they see me in here?”

She shrugs, mumbles something incoherent, then falls back asleep. Steve huffs and starts looking around the house for various supplies. It’s a bit difficult to find it all without any directions–blankets hidden in a closet, glass of water, medication and thermometer hidden in different cabinets in the kitchen, of which he has to look through just about every single one. He takes her temperature–100.4–sets the glass on the table, then drapes the blanket over top of her. Only then does he remember the number scrawled onto his wrist. 

Eddie picks up on the second ring. 

“How’s thing two?”

“Passed out on the couch. I’m uh…keeping an eye on her, till one of her parents gets back. Danny should be there any minute now, so hopefully it won’t be a problem?"

“Store’s only been closed for fifteen minutes, darlin, I’m not too concerned.” He pauses, which helpfully gives Steve time to pull the phone away from his ear and choke on air. “When was your shift supposed to end?”

He checks his watch. “About an hour and a half…ago.”

Sputtering can be heard over the line, then grumblings along the line of ‘oh of fucking course’, before Eddie finally composes himself. “So I guess I won’t have to explain your absence.”

Steve lets out an awkward laugh, nods, remembers Eddie can’t actually see him, then responds. “Yea, sorry.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m just…definitely glad I gave you my number now.” 

Steve feigns a quick cough to clear his throat. “Oh uh…thanks, for helping out with this.”

“Of course. Though,” A short pause, he swears Eddie’s voice gets deeper when he speaks again. “I’m not doing this for free, you know.”

And if that didn’t go straight to his dick– “Oh?”

A low laugh. Obscene. “Yep, I’m gonna try and drag you out from the hell that is Top 40’s music. You listen to a few albums–my choice, no complaints–and we’ll call it even.”

“God, you sound just like Jonathan.”

He swears Eddie’s breath catches a bit. “Right…did he ever give you that uh…tape?”

“The–” Again, Steve’s choking on air. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Mmm…of course you don’t.” He can practically see Eddie winking in his mind. “Well, looks like good old Dan’s about to clock in. See you tomorrow?”

“Yea!” Too enthusiastic! Tone it down! “Sure. Sounds good.”

Steve stands there for a moment, even after he hears the sound of Eddie hanging up. He stares at the phone's curled chord, twisted around each of the fingers on his free hand. Eventually, he’s jolted from his trance by a long, loud groan.

“Are you done yet? The flirting is giving me a headache.”

Steve practically slams the phone back into the receiver. 

“What? I was just–I just called Eddie to let him know that you were–”

“Mhm, mhm, yup. Ok.” Robin nodded along and shuffled her way to the kitchen, visibly half awake and wrapped up in the blanket he’d given her. 

Thank god, she wasn’t coherent. 

“What are you–”

“Chill, mom, I’m making some soup.” Robin sounds as though she’s trying to come off as angry, though in reality the words come out as a slightly annoyed and whiny mumble. 

Steve rolls his eyes and chooses not to comment on it. “So, should I be worried about when your parents come home?”

“Hm? No, they won’t shoot you or anything.” She waits for his sigh of relief, then speaks again. “Probably’ll thrust us into an arranged marriage though.”

He chokes, frozen for a minute, then wills himself to move, grabbing the bowl from her hand and holding it above her head–same as he had with the coffee cup before. 

“Wh–hey I got it!”

“I know you do. Would your folks mind if I made something?”

“You cook?”

“When I get the opportunity.” He shrugs. She doesn’t answer his question, though she does make her way back to the couch to put something on the TV, which he supposes is answer enough. 

“You, Steve Harrington, are an enigma.”

He smiles to himself and starts searching for ingredients. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Chapter Text

Eddie wipes sweat from his forehead as he exits his van. Yesterday it was maybe 70, and today it’s right back to 95 - and it’ll only get worse as the week goes on. His poor baby is going to need more coolant before June is out. Hell, at least his shitty job gets him enough to pay for that. 

And at least the mall is cold. Eddie’s not exactly a shorts kind of guy; he’d hate to have to give up his look. 

Eddie works his way through the back entrance. The long, winding hallways are not his friend: he can’t remember which way he came from half the time and he makes this journey almost every single day. 

He gets to the store, which is already open. Dawn is sitting at the register, chewing bubblegum and idly flicking through a magazine.

“Hi, Dawn,” Eddie greets. “Anything exciting happen to you over the weekend?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I got abducted by aliens. Don’t believe what they tell you on the news: probing ain’t the bad part.”

“Cool,” she says, not even looking at him. 

Eddie shrugs. He’ll get her one of these days. 

Eddie doesn’t have to do a damn thing when Dawn’s at the register. She’s a powerhouse in her own right: she could run the entire mall while reading a book and talking to someone on the phone the entire time. 

He considers his options. He could go on a real smoke break, but it’s too hot to stand outside and security doesn’t appreciate it when employees smoke inside. Something about their image - Eddie doesn’t know and he definitely doesn’t care enough to fight some jacked-up mall cop on it. 

Option number two: Scoops Ahoy. Well, he hangs out there all the time anyway. 

Eddie walks into Scoops with a grin on his face. Robin and Steve are leaning against the wall, chatting, probably waiting for something to happen.

Eddie is more than happy to provide.

“How are my two favorite corporate slaves?”

“Hi, Eddie,” Robin greets. “We’re good.”

“You’re not sick anymore?” He has to check: Robin’s proven she can’t be completely trusted with her own health. Steve, too, actually: Eddie’s going to need to keep an eye on him. Because that’s what a good friend does, of course. 

“Nah, I’m fine. I think it was that weird chicken from Burger King that did me in. You remember, Steve?”

“Robin, how many times do I have to tell you: the chicken wasn’t weird.”

“It was rubbery!”

“It’s shitty fast food chicken! Of course it’s rubbery!”

“Then why were you eating it?!”

“It’s cheap .”

Robin turns to Eddie. She’s frowning, her hands are on her hips, and she looks one second away from going full toddler and stamping her foot. 

“Eddie, help me out here. Steve shouldn’t be eating BK’s weird chicken, right?”

Eddie agrees that the chicken there is weird as hell . But, he also grew up in a trailer with very few options: eventually, you learn to eat some weird stuff. 

“It is cheap.”

She throws her hands up. “You’re both hopeless.”

Steve shoots Eddie a grin across the counter. “She won’t even eat eggs. She says that they’re gross .”

“They are gross! You’re just willing to eat whatever garbage lands on your plate,” she says with a sniff. 

“Hey, I only eat the highest quality garbage, thanks very much.”

Eddie’s about to make a joke - something about Steve being a raccoon, he’ll figure it out when he says it - when someone clears their throat behind him.

He turns. A tall girl wearing an Indiana State University shirt is standing at the door, eyebrow raised.

“Can I order, or are you all gonna keep talking?” She asks, tone deeply unimpressed.

Robin turns a color previously seen only on firetrucks. The girl is attractive, not that Eddie’s great at judging that sort of thing. Tall, blonde hair, symmetrical face, the works. 

“Uh, well, I - yes, of course, although I wouldn’t recommend it, because, you know, ice cream makes me gassy, so I never actually eat any, and -” Robin slaps a hand over her mouth.

Steve sighs. “Ignore her. What can I get for you?”

Eddie frowns. Where’s the spiel? No Ocean of Flavor? Damn, he was really hoping to see Steve flounder another opportunity. They might be friendly now, but that shit is just endlessly entertaining.

The girl leans on the counter. “I was thinking chocolate, but I’m willing to take a recommendation.”

Steve taps his finger on his chin. “Chocolate’s good… would you be willing to get more than one scoop?”

“I might be.”

“One chocolate and one coffee in a cup.”

“And why’s that?”

Steve grins so brightly that Eddie feels the need to squint. “They go well together. Plus, you seem like the kind of woman that can appreciate the coffee ice cream.”

She smiles back at Steve. “Oh, so you think I’m mature? Do I look like a grandma to you?”

“Nah, you just seem like you enjoy complexity.”

She laughs and leans against the counter, bringing her right into Steve’s space. “That I do.”

Steve swallows visibly. His fingers tap restlessly against the counter. Eddie grins to himself - Steve’s getting nervous. He’s about to fumble this entire interaction.

“Yeah?” His voice is a little weak.

The girl’s teeth glint like a knife. “Yeah. You gonna get me my ice cream, pretty boy?”

Steve turns redder than a stop light. “Sure.” 

He scoops out her ice cream mechanically, and, somehow, impossibly, doesn’t drop anything, despite the fact that Eddie can see how badly his hands are shaking. He doesn’t even mess up with the register, which is practically a miracle in and of itself.

“Thanks,” she glances down at his nametag, “ Steve . You know, I’d love to talk to you sometime when you’re not on the clock.”

“I’d like that, too,” Steve says.

“When do you get off work?”

“Uh,” Steve looks up at the clock.

“Right now, actually,” Robin says quickly. “Isn’t that funny?”

The girl grins. “Great! Let’s go.” She walks out the door without another word. 

Steve stands at the counter uselessly for a half second before tossing his hat in the back. “See you later,” he says, and then he’s running off after her.

Robin marks off You Rule with one tally. “He actually got a date. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m not sure it counts. You interfered at the end there.”

She shrugs. “Let him have his wins.”

Steve’s been trying to find a date ever since he started working at Scoops: even before Steve ever talked to him Eddie saw Steve trying (and failing) to flirt. Eddie should be happy for him. Or, at the very least, getting ready to make fun of him when he inevitably comes back without a number. 

Instead, there’s a hard ball in the pit of his stomach, and Eddie doesn’t know why . It’s something like anger and something like sadness, but it doesn’t quite match either of those.

“Don’t worry about it,” Robin says. “He’ll mess it up anyway.”

“I’m not worried .” Why would Eddie be worried? That doesn’t even make sense.

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

It’s fine. He’s sure that it’s fine. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about, not even a little bit.

Eddie wanders between Scoops and the record store absently. Robin gets busy with customers, Dawn never responds to him, and he’s bored . And restless, too - he can’t seem to stand still for longer than a minute. 

He gets in these kinds of moods sometimes, where sitting calmly and quietly makes him want to tear his skin off. It sucks , but he isn’t concerned.

He occasionally catches sight of Steve and the college girl on their little date. It makes that hard ball in his stomach appear, makes him feel… almost angry? Eddie’s used to being mad at stupid things: just last week he was furious because couldn’t get a single good roll on his dice. But this doesn’t feel like his usual pointless rage. It’s different, somehow.

He takes over for Dawn at the register, even though he hates working the register, just so that he won’t keep walking outside and glaring holes in the back of Steve’s head.

Eventually, inevitably, he catches sight of a bright blue uniform heading to Scoops. Eddie relaxes, releasing a breath he didn’t realize that he was holding.

“Hey, Dawn? I’m taking my fifteen.” It’ll probably be closer to thirty, but it’s not like Dawn cares what he’s up to.

He barges into Robin and Steve arguing over the board. Robin is clutching the eraser in both hands and trying very hard to keep it away from Steve.

“It counts!” She says. “You can’t take it back.”

“But I don’t like her.”

“You still got a number. My board, my rules. The tally stays .”

Great. They’re still talking about the date, then. Eddie’s skin prickles as he forces himself to ask, “What’s going on here?”

“Robin won’t let me erase the tally!” Steve pouts, looking like a child being denied an extra scoop of ice cream. 

Eddie frowns. “Did you fuck it up, or what?” 

“Yes!” Steve shouts.

“No!” Robin shouts at exactly the same time.

“Will one of you please elaborate?”

“The whole point of the system is to get dates: she just wanted a hookup.”

Robin snorts. “You still got a number, and, anyway, beggars can’t be choosers. You’re not exactly getting any.”

“I am, actually.”

Robin and Eddie glance at each other. 

“Steve,” Robin starts patiently, “you’ve been striking out all summer. I’ve seen it. Eddie’s seen it. The whole mall’s seen it. You have, by definition, not been getting any.”

“I have sex all the time. It’s a date that I can’t get.”

At least Eddie’s not the only one that’s missing something. Robin looks just as confused as he feels. 

Steve looks between them quickly and huffs in frustration. 

“Listen, girls come to me for a good time, right? ‘Cause, you know, that’s what I can do. And then they go and date someone else. That’s how it works. So I’m trying ,” he points to the board, “to get an actual date. Not a hookup.”

“So, wait, she only wanted to have sex with you?” Eddie’s still not clear on that part.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. She gave me her number because I told her it was too weird to do anything in the uniform - gotta keep work and private life separate, blah blah blah.”

“Don’t call her.” He doesn’t really mean to say it. He doesn’t even mean for it to be so firm. But, really, Steve shouldn’t call her. They haven’t been friends for long - Eddie only stopped hating him a few days ago - but he deserves better than a girl who doesn’t even really want him . That’s not right. 

Maybe that’s what was making Eddie so angry earlier. A part of him could sense that the college girl didn’t like Steve for the right reasons. It makes perfect sense, actually.

Steve grins. “Not planning on it.”

Robin rolls her eyes at both of them. “I’m not saying you have to call her! I’m just saying that I’m not erasing the tally. I still think it counts.”

Eddie hops over the counter in a fluid motion. He licks his thumbs and wipes the tally off himself. Steve cheers.

“Traitor!” She screeches. “Befouler of boards!” She whacks him with the eraser.

Eddie rubs his head with a smile. Steve slings an arm around his shoulder.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem, Stevie.” Eddie winks. Steve flushes. All is right in the world.

Chapter Text

“I need your help.”

“What did you do?”

Eddie glances up from his magazine, just now taking notice of the new gremlin kicking down scoops’ metaphorical door. Lucas, alone, an air of visible nervousness about him as he fidgets with a hair tie on his wrist.

“I…” His head is turned to the side, visibly avoiding looking at Steve directly. “Broke up with Max.”

“ You. Broke up with her? ”

Eddie snorts, hiding his face in the magazine for a moment–just in case Steve notices him listening in. He doesn’t, so the magazine goes back down.

“I don’t know why I did it! We were arguing over something stupid and I think she had another fight with–she wasn’t in a good mood, and I could just tell she was going to end things again and I guess–I guess I just wanted to do it first?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose at that, doing leaps of mental guesswork to figure out that bit of logic, but for some reason Steve doesn’t react the same. He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, radiating an energy of mild disappointment but not surprise.

“And?”

“And now she’s really upset–like–like more upset than she was after you almost–” Steve’s gaze hardens for a split second, Lucas’ mouth clicks shut; he takes a second to will himself to continue. “I really messed up, and I don’t know how to fix it and it’s not like I can just buy her a gift and apologize, I have no money and I’m stressed and my girlfriend-not-girlfriend hates me and wants me dead. Help. ” 

Steve nods along to the rant, slowly leaning forward during it so that his elbows now rested on the counter, head in his hands. He mutters something inaudible before dragging his face out and standing back up.

“Go to that flat strip of road by her house. She’ll probably be practicing kickflips or something because that’s what she does when she’s stressed–” He states this as though it were an obvious fact, Lucas nods like he agrees. “Put on some Kate Bush and ask her to teach you how to skate.”

“You want me to fall on my ass and embarrass myself to make her feel better.”

“Well you’re broke so all you’ve got left is your pride.” Steve says with a shrug, patting Lucas’ back when the boy lets out a loud groan.

The two continue to speak, though in an effort to not look like he’s obviously people watching he can’t quite make it all out. Something along the lines of Steve being there for ‘moral support’, though Lucas insists he just wants to watch him break his bones. Lucas seems to slowly relax, as Steve starts giving little bits of advice on balance, sharing his own anecdotes from being taught by her(and if that would’ve been a sight to see).

Steve stops, mid-sentence, freezes–literally freezes–in place with wide eyes and clenched fists. His jaw’s so clenched it looks like a task to get out a simple ‘I’m taking my fifteen’ to Danny, before sprinting in the backroom. Eddie furrows his brows, steps away from the register and hides behind the entrance to the music store. Dawn glances his way, but other than that gives no indication she even notices he’s there at all. 

“Sinclair, long time no see.”

Lucas stiffens, hearing the voice from behind, a man walking up to the counter to stand right beside him, back leaned up against the edge. Hargrove.  

More mental guesswork, even following his previous assumptions–Steve being an asshole and a coward–it made no sense for him to just…run off like that at the mere sight of him. 

Eddie waits, he lets Dawn take over the register and walks around the store, appearing to help the three or so customers that waltz around the place, though his eyes keep wandering across the building, to the growing anxiety so plainly visible from Lucas at every comment Hargrove makes, none of which Eddie can make out. 

A good twenty minutes pass before Eddie musters up the courage to go over there. Hargrove’s a known loose canon, never liked him very much and was prone to incredible acts of violence. Not a good combination for one fighting prone metalhead, yet here he was, announcing his break and walking over to the store’s front like it was just an average day. 

“Hey Sinclair, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” Eddie says without any voice cracks. Like a man. “Eddie Munson, friend of your two favorite sailors.”

“O–oh. Lucas,” He takes Eddie’s hand, he’d be embarrassed by the shaking but Lucas seems a lot worse. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have? Who’s gushing?”

“S–Mike. And Will.” Lucas says a little too fast. Definitely on edge. 

“ Speaking of sailors,” Billy cuts in, voice low and gravelly and fucking terrifying good god– “Seems one of them is shirking on his duties, hm? Either of you know what that’s about?”

“ No.” Lucas replies, rage overtaking the fear, though it returns when Hargrove’s eyes narrow. 

“Sheesh, touchy. Something wrong with wanting to catch up with an old friend, kid? ” 

It’s so obvious, hearing him talk to them directly, but it honestly kind of hurts how Eddie knows he’d believe this act not even a week prior. Now, though, his fists hit the counter loud enough that Danny jumps.

“Guess you’ll just have to miss him, yea?” 

Billy’s eyes narrow once more, but his shoulders relax. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, feigning disappointment. “Shame.”

Both him and Lucas let out a sigh of relief when the guy finally walks away. They take a second to collect themselves, then Eddie pats Lucas’ back.

“You wanna hide out in my break room for a bit?” 

Lucas bites his lip and leans over the counter, trying to see inside the breakroom, then checks inside when Danny huffs and opens the door for him. He looks a bit dejected when he walks out, but starts walking over to the record store despite it.

“You tell him the coast’s clear?”

“He wasn’t there.” Lucas shrugs. “Probably smoking outside or something.”

Eddie hums, lets Lucas into the breakroom and plops onto one of the seats. “So…what the hell was all that about?”

“Him and Steve had like…a huge fight last year.” 

“So I’ve been told. And why is everyone so cagey about it?”

Lucas starts fidgeting with the hair tie, not meeting his eyes, same as he had when Steve probed him earlier

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me the full story.” 

“You…you think you can help?”
 

His breath catches. “I’ll try.” 

Lucas continues to fidget, though he does look up at him, and he looks…a little less nervous, at least. “Do you…know everything that happened with Will?”

“Er…yea. Just as much as everyone else knows.” 

He nods. “Well, being…lost, it had some lasting effects. Whatever happened out there caused him to have these sort of…seizures? It started as absences, then it started getting worse. He had a really really bad one last year, when all of us were at the Byers’ house, and most of the adults left, so Steve stayed to keep an eye on us while they all took him to the hospital.”

“Should I be keeping an eye out for that?”

“No, no he’s ok now. But um–I kind of snuck Max out of her house to be there, and her parents sent Billy out to go find her, which…apparently interrupted a date.”

Eddie hums, but stays silent. 

“I know a lot of people think it was a petty fight.” If Lucas notices Eddie’ wince he doesn’t comment. “But Billy was trying to hurt us. Steve threw the first punch because the guy threw me against a wall. ”

“Holy shit.”

“And I know everyone says Steve got his ass beat and he totally did but Billy cheated . Like, we were all there to see it and even Mike agrees that it wasn’t fair. Steve was watching four kids, he was aiming to scare the guy off while Billy was aiming to kill him, and he smashed a fucking plate on his head. That’s not fighting fair!”

“Holy shit. ” He says again, because seriously, holy shit. 

“Yea! And then Steve’s down for the count, because that’s what happens when someone slams a bunch of fine china against your skull, and Billy just keeps hitting him anyway! If Max hadn’t knocked Billy out then–”

Eddie’s hand is on Lucas’ shoulder before he even thinks about it. The boy stops, takes a breath, and continues.

“We couldn’t take him to the hospital right away. A lot of stuff was going down–” Lucas notices Eddie’s mouth open to ask. “Stuff we’re not allowed to talk about, and it had to take priority. And…and he was fine when he woke up. A little out of it and a little freaked out that Max was driving us but he was fine. ”

Eddie frowns, but keeps his mouth shut.

“We honestly kind of forgot how badly he was hurt until we got back. We all piled out of the car and started explaining the whole situation to Hopper since all of them were back. I went to see if Billy was still inside, and when I came back out Steve was collapsed on the ground.”

Lucas’ breaths are shaky again, but he doesn’t stop. “Hopper ended up taking him to the hospital, and Dustin and Max fought to go with him while the rest of us stayed at the house.”

“I heard about most of what happened from Max. She said his heart stopped. A few minutes after they brought him in it just stopped for twenty seconds. Even when they started it back up again there was a while they were worried he just…wouldn’t wake up.”

“And…Did Hopper…”

“Steve didn’t press charges. Nancy drove us there after Hopper called to let us know he was ok, and I heard him and Steve arguing about it. Hopper agreed, but I’m pretty sure that’s just because he thought Max’s threat was enough to keep the guy away.” Lucas smiled, just a little at that thought.

“He…he didn’t stay away, though, did he?"

“I think me and Will are the only ones who know. Probably Dustin, too, but the guy can’t keep his mouth shut so I kind of doubt it.” Lucas huffed. “From what Nancy and Jonathan have said about it they’re just…on edge around each other, but Will’s really observant, and bruises…like the ones he gives him are hard to hide. Plus…the only time I’ve seen Steve scared is when Billy’s around."

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it out with a short puff. “Ok…alright, how about…let’s go talk to him?"

“Billy?”

“Oh, god no. I meant Steve. Bet I could try and get more information on what all’s going on, then force him to let us help.” Lucas raises a brow at that, but Eddie shrugs it off. Stands, stretches, then walks back over to the Scoops storefront, Lucas following closely behind.

“He’s still not back?” Lucas asks, biting his lip once more.

“You said he went outside, right?” 

Lucas nods, pauses, and starts running out of the mall. 

The kid’s surprisingly fast, when he wants to be. Eddie is stereotypically bad at gym class, and running’s definitely not one of his strong suits, but it was a tad bit embarrassing to be tripping over himself in an attempt to keep up with him. He’d blame that on Lucas’ worry. 

“Why the hell’d you do that?” Billy stands close, hands already balled into his fists. “Hide out here like a fucking pussy?”

Steve looks almost…bored, or at least it’s how he’s trying to look. Eddie can see his shaking hands from where the two had hidden, and he bets Billy sees it too. 

“What, you expected to just slam my head into the counter and leave?” Billy’s balled up fist grabs for Steve’s hair at the man’s comment, shoving his head against the wall. 

They’re silent, for a moment, then Steve sighs.

“Just get it over with.”

Eddie absentmindedly reaches for a wooden plank amongst a pile of trash beside them. Billy grabs the cigarette in Steve’s mouth and takes a drag. His hand starts lowering, cigarette facing so that the lit end is just against Steve’s arm.

Eddie runs up and swings the plank against Billy’s head before it can make contact

Billy falls to the ground instantly, barely able to sit up, putting his hand against his head and seeing the blood dripping down his fingers. Eddie slams the plank on the ground in front of him before he says anything.

“I’ll give you three seconds to fuck off.” 

Billy only needs two. 

“What the hell was that?” Eddie asks the moment he’s out of sight, turning to face Steve. “What the hell were you thinking? ”

“Wh–huh?”

“I know the shitty guidance counselor advice is to ‘act like you don’t care’ but you were actively giving him a place to beat the shit out of you! Why the fuck did you think that was a good idea?!”

“I um…” Steve glances nervously down at the wooden plank still held tight in Eddie’s hands. “Can you maybe…put that down?”

Eddie blinks, then releases his grip in an instant. 

“Did he ever say anything about us?” Lucas asks. “Him and Max haven’t even talked in a week, and he avoids us like the plague, so…”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting he’s offering himself up as a human punching bag, because that’s the stupidest thing–”

Eddie cuts himself off, when his eyes drift from Lucas back to Steve, that dejected look on his face snapping Eddie’s mouth shut in an instant. Fucking hell.

“Sorry. That…that was out of line.” He rubs his neck and avoids looking Steve in the eyes, though the short glances he manages to sneak show the man looks almost confused . “Look, just…hopefully that asshole steers fucking clear of y–of everyone, and if not…I’m apparently not too bad with a two by four.”  

Steve huffs and smiles. “God, how much of my shift have I missed?”

“Trying to change the subject on me, Stevie?” Eddie pokes Steve’s chest. “We’re talking about this.”

“Sure.” Steve  waves him off and shoves himself off the wall. “Sinclair, I guess I owe you for this mess.”

“You can repay me by…telling Hopper?”

“How about I drive you to the arcade after work?”

“...yea, I’ll take what I can get.”

Chapter Text

“Ripley is clearly the best final girl,” Robin says. Steve muffles his sigh in his hands - Robin and Eddie have been talking Horror Movies in circles for ages .

“It’s Laurie Strode! How many times do I have to tell you -”

“Ripley is fighting an alien! Michael is just some guy! How in the world could Laurie be better?”

“Because Laurie is also just some girl. Ripley is this cool space mechanic - she’s clearly had some kind of combat training. Laurie is a babysitter!”

His current customer - Erica Sinclair, who is once again taking advantage of his generosity (he really has to learn how to tell her no) - clears her throat. 

“I believe I asked for a sample of Rocky Road?” She asks snidely. 

“Right, yeah, sorry.”

Erica glances at the other two, who are still arguing. “Do they ever shut up?”

“Not in my experience.” Robin is probably Steve’s best friend outside of Dustin, and Eddie is, well, Eddie , but that doesn’t mean he thinks they’re perfect or anything. Case in point: arguing about stupid shit for hours on end.

“They’re such nerds. Obviously, the best final girl is Sally from Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“How do you - actually, never mind, I don’t wanna know.” Erica is, like, five: in no universe should she be watching that kind of shit. “Also, please don’t say that where they can hear you.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Fair point. I’m out; good luck with these two.”

He gives her a two-fingered salute as she walks out. 

“Steve,” Robin turns to him, “tell Eddie he’s wrong.”

“Not doing that,” Steve says while throwing away Erica’s used spoons - only ten today! She’s really cut back.

“Yeah, because he knows I’m right.”

Steve resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. “Please, please , talk about literally anything else.”

Eddie and Robin both cross their arms. “Not until we settle this,” Eddie says. 

Robin nods. Great. They’re only agreeing to make him suffer. “Come on, Steve, be the tiebreaker. Who’s the best final girl?”

“I don’t like those kinds of movies.” The shine on the horror apple wears off once you’ve killed actual monsters. 

“You don’t have to like them to know the truth, which is that Ripley is the best.”

Steve hates his life sometimes. He really, truly does. He stares up at the ceiling and silently begs for help that’s never going to come. No customers, no Upside Down, no salvation from this dumbass conversation. 

And then Nancy walks in the door.

“Hi, Steve,” she greets with a smile. “Are you busy? I brought some food.”

“Nope,” Steve says instantly, “not busy at all. I’m taking my lunch, Robin. Come on,” he grabs her elbow and leads her past the counter, “let’s get out of their way.”

He slams the window in the back room shut and breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Long day?”

“You have no idea.”

She puts her lunch bag on the table. “Maybe I do. What’s eating you?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. Work, mostly. How about you? Assholes at the paper still being dicks?”

“They’re terrible . I swear, if Bruce calls me Nancy Drew one more time I’m going to introduce him to the business end of my revolver.” Nancy shoves a sandwich and a soda in his direction and takes the other one for herself. “Jonathan says that I just need to stick through it but… I don’t know.” 

“Listen, all I’m saying is if you ever need an alibi…” Steve trails off and waves at himself.

Nancy chuckles. “Don’t tempt me. But, anyway, how are things here? Your coworkers giving you any trouble?”

“Nah. Danny couldn’t give me trouble if he tried, and Robin’s cool.” Danny is constantly high. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen the guy sober, but he cleans stuff and doesn’t interact with the customers, so Steve doesn’t really care. 

“Robin… she’s the one outside, right?”

Steve nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. “Yeah. She’s actually really fun when she’s not having a stupid conversation with Eddie.”

Nancy makes a sympathetic sound around her sandwich and gestures for Steve to continue. 

“They’ve been fighting about horror movies all damn day! It’s like when the kids talk about Dungeons & Dragons but ten times worse.” At least the kids will usually vary their arguments a little bit after a while: Robin and Eddie have been talking in circles since the morning rush.

“Sounds annoying.”

“It is! And they go into so much detail. Come on, guys, this is a family-friendly eating establishment. We serve food here! Little kids don’t need to hear about the Xenomorph bursting out of a dude’s chest.” 

She winces. “That’s awful! I hate that scene: parasites freak me out so much.”

“I know, right?” 

She puts her sandwich down carefully. “I think about it, sometimes. I was only in the Upside Down for a minute, but how long does it need to really mess you up? Hopper coughed up gunk for days , and Will…” She stares blankly ahead, almost frozen for a moment before visibly shaking herself. “Well. You know.”

Shit. Of course Nancy would be freaked out just by Steve mentioning horror movies. God, he can be so thoughtless. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“Hey, you’ve been hearing it all day. I don’t blame you for wanting to get it off your chest.”

Get what off his chest, his friends being kind of annoying? Steve frowns at her in confusion. 

“Steve…” Nancy places a hand on his, “it’s okay. You can talk to me.”

“They’re just being annoying, Nance. It’s not a big deal.”

“Really? Nothing about their conversation upsets you? Because if I were in your shoes, some guy trying to kill a babysitter for no real reason would be really upsetting.”

Steve pauses. His stomach clenched while she was talking and he can feel his heart racing. Is he freaked out?

“Oh. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not. Well, you are , but not because of that.”

“Well, at least I have Nancy Wheeler to set me straight.”

She smiles. “And you always will. Finish your food - I want to talk to you about a story I’m pitching. It’s just a conversation piece, fireman saves cat kind of stuff, but I’d really like your opinion.”

Steve nods. He doesn’t see what good his opinion is since he’s completely stupid, but he’ll listen. Half of the time Nancy doesn’t even need advice or anything anyway.

Steve eats the rest of his sandwich and sips at his soda while Nancy goes on about all the stores closing on Main. 

“It could be about how Starcourt is killing small businesses. Our local stores just can’t compete!”

“And you want this to be an opinion piece?”

“That’s all they’ll let me do.” She points at him. “What are you thinking?”

Steve blinks. “Huh?”

“Your face. You’re having a thought; I wanna hear it.”

“Uh. Well, I see people protesting outside the mayor’s office all the time, and I know a bunch of them are business owners. Maybe you could talk to them, see what they think?”

She taps her fingers on the table. “They won’t be objective, but it could work. Thanks, Steve.”

“No problem.” He glances at the clock and groans.

“That time already?”

“Yep.”

She stands and snaps her finger. “Oh! I almost forgot: I brought you some leftovers.” She hands him a Tupperware container filled with chicken soup. “Don’t worry - my mom cooked it, not me.” She grins. 

“I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can! Mom’s been cooking a lot, recently: we don’t have space in the fridge. And when I told her I was giving it to you she insisted: y ou’re her favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had. If I come back with this I’ll get disowned.”

“You’ve only had two boyfriends,” Steve points out. 

“You know how she feels about Jonathan.”

Yeah, Steve does know. He’s had more interactions with Karen Wheeler after becoming the unofficial Party babysitter than he ever did when he was Nancy’s boyfriend, and she has, for some reason, decided that she and Steve are on the same side. That side being, ‘get rid of Jonathan Byers’. He has no idea what her issue with Jonathan is or why she thinks Steve himself is so great - any smart mom should realize that Jonathan is a catch and that Steve is… not.

“Fine. Only to get your mom off your back.”

“Thanks.” She glances at the window. “Back to hell for the both of us?”

“I’ll trade you.” He’s not entirely joking: sexist idiots sound better to Steve than entitled parents. 

Her nose wrinkles. “And deal with kids all day? I get enough of that with Mike and Holly.”

“You take that back! Holly is an angel.” Getting to do little tea parties with her while Dustin hangs out in Mike’s basement is sometimes the best part of his week. She’s actually an adorable kid, and not half as demanding as any of his children. 

“And Mike?”

“No comment.”

She laughs. “He’s such a pest!”

Steve leads her back to the front. “I’ll see you later?”

She nods cheerfully. “Soon, I promise. I just have to get through another few weeks at the paper without killing anyone.”

“You’re back!” Eddie crows. “Great! Settle our debate, Harrington: Strode or Ripley?”

Before Steve can even open his mouth, Nancy says, “Eddie, right? Eddie Munson? And you must be Robin?”

They both nod. Nancy smiles. “I’ve heard about both of you from Mike and Will.”

“Mike’s your brother, right?” Eddie asks.

“That’s right. I’ve heard about you from Max, too.” Her smile slides a little bit, and suddenly Steve remembers that she’s killed monsters. “She has a lot to say.”

Eddie rubs his neck awkwardly. “I was… not my best self around her. Trying to do better.”

Nancy hums. “We’ll see. And you,” she faces Robin. “I heard about your whiteboard. Steve might be fine with it, but I’m not. Watch yourself.” She turns back to Steve. “Don’t be a stranger.” She kisses him on the cheek and walks out of Scoops.

Robin collapses back against the counter and fans herself. “Screw Ripley. That’s the final girl right there.”

Eddie snorts. “No kidding. You dated her?” He asks Steve.

“She’s not that bad!” He protests.

“She’s terrifying .” 

“I’m taking a break. I’ll be back soon.” Robin disappears into the back, her face very red. Steve hopes she cools off - maybe she got really angry while fighting with Eddie. Although she seemed normal before Nancy laid into her. Oh, he hopes she’s not about to have a breakdown or something. Some people really can’t handle other people yelling at them. Robin doesn’t strike him as that kind of girl, but who knows?

“Hey.” 

Steve grins at Eddie. “Hey.”

“Were we being annoying? I know I can get… kind of obsessive about things sometimes.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s fine, man.”

Eddie stares at him for a long moment before sighing. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“What?” What’s that supposed to mean?

“Don’t worry about it.”

Steve feels something curl in his chest. He’s doing something wrong, isn’t he? Fuck. He’s always doing something wrong and he can’t ever figure out what it is or how to stop. Now Eddie is going to realize that Steve isn’t worth his time and stop being his friend, and Steve will have to go back to mooning over him from afar. 

A hand on his shoulder interrupts his thoughts. “Stevie, seriously, don’t worry about it. I fucked up, actually.”

“ You fucked up?”

“You told me point-blank you didn’t want to talk about horror shit and I kept bothering you, and you’re obviously uncomfortable. That’s my bad, and I’m sorry.”

Steve doesn’t really know what to say. He can’t remember the last time someone apologized to him about something so small . “It’s cool. You’re, uh, forgiven. Besides, most people like horror movies: I’m just a wuss.”

Eddie shrugs. “My uncle Wayne can’t stand them, either - he won’t even watch Psycho , man.”

“ Psycho is horrible! That woman dies for no reason and it’s all, ‘oh, she was murdered by this mentally ill man because he’s crazy’. Like, that’s not a good story at all. In real life, all the bad guys are evil scientists and corrupt politicians and shit.”

“No arguing there.” Eddie smiles. “Oh, and I made something for you. Here.” He roots around in his jacket pocket and hands Steve a mixtape. “It’s a metal mixtape. Basic stuff, really, nothing fancy, but, well, I said I would, so. Yeah.” 

Steve glances at Eddie. He’s trying to look calm, but his hands are jumping at his sides and he keeps shuffling his shoes on the vinyl floors. This is really, really important to him, then.

“Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.”

“Cool. Don’t quit on it too quickly: it takes time to really appreciate a whole new genre.”

Steve nods. If listening to Eddie’s loud music is what it takes to be his friend, then Steve will do it. It’s not even a big ask: Steve suffered through the entire Lord of the Rings series for Dustin’s sake (he had to double back every other paragraph just to figure out who the hell was talking and he still doesn’t understand most of Dustin’s references).

“Maybe you could come to some of my shows. If you wanted.”

“Your Corroded Coffin gigs?” Eddie’s invited Robin to those loads of times, but this is Steve’s first invitation. The idea of seeing Eddie on a stage, sweating and probably wearing really tight clothes, is enough to get Steve through literally anything, up to and including some truly shitty music.

“The very same. I’ll introduce you to the guys, too!” 

Meeting Eddie’s real friends? Hell yes. 

He’s making real progress with Eddie. Sure, his stupid crush hasn’t gone away, and, sure, now he’s kind of trapped because there’s no way Eddie would be cool with Steve having gay feelings about him, but, hey, at least Steve can have a real conversation with him instead of tripping all over his own fool mouth. That’s something!

“Deal,” he says. “I listen to the mixtape, and then I get to go to one of your shows. I want to meet your other friends, man, don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Deal.”

They shake on it. Steve smiles to himself - things are finally looking up.

Chapter Text

For some reason, Eddie feels nervous. He’s sitting behind the register, glancing over to Scoops minutes before Steve’s shift would start. He knows why he’s nervous–good terms or no his music taste was a bit…out there…from what Steve probably listens to. He could hate it. He could be really dickish about it, actually. 

And logically this should be his reason! He shouldn’t be like…pacing circles in the floor about it, but if he thinks he’s gonna get his ass beat then he supposes that makes sense. 

Except, of course, Steve’s not a dick. He’s the exact opposite of one, honestly, the human personification of a god damn golden retriever and he’ll probably find the nicest goddamn way possible to say his taste in music is shit. 

Or maybe he’ll like it. Why is he so nervous?

Steve walks in about two minutes past when his shift is supposed to start. He’s got the headphones on, which causes this old cold swirling feeling in Eddie’s stomach to get even worse , because of course it does. The second Steve walks back out to the front–headphones now slid to rest around his neck–Eddie’s first instinct to the friendly wave the man sends his way is to duck for fucking cover. Like he’s being shot at.

Once he sits back up–super normal, super casual, not a care in the world–Steve and Robin have started gossiping. Not about him, he assumes, as Steve keeps pointing to random people walking in the mall, but Robin’s occasional glance his way somehow gives off an air of blatant homophobia so who knows. 

He shifts a bit uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding the psychic damage Robin keeps sending his way, and instead focuses very intently on whatever magazine he’d mindlessly pulled out from under the register. He walks over to Scoops at his normal time, because nothing’s out of the ordinary, very casually leans against the counter, and does not stare directly at the tape resting inside Steve’s walkman. 

“So,” His tone, same as his posture–super casual. “You give it a shot?”

“The music?” Steve responds, though he takes a second to do so, squinting his eyes and deciphering Eddie’s words. He looks nervous, too. “Oh uh–yea I’ve listened to a bit of it.”

"Did you...like it? Tolerate it, at least? Come on you've gotta give me something to work with here."

"I uh..." There's a sort of look on his face, one Eddie can't quite place, though the closest word he'd attribute to it is pained. Great. "I'd have to listen to it more, but it's not bad?" 

“So, you'd say you aren't completely and utterly opposed to non-Top 40’s music?”

Steve huffs. “Hey, I’ve never been opposed to non-Top 40’s music.”

“Oh yea?"

“ Yes , actually. I let the kids pick whatever music plays in the car all the time–”

“Mom–”

Steve glares at Robin, glaring harder at her horribly concealed laugh. “And outside of one or two of them most don’t listen to the Top 40’s.”

“Mhm, yes, but do you like it?”

Steve’s expression turns pained again, a more extreme version of how he reacted to his music. Fuck. “I like Max and Will’s? Dustin and Mike though…”

“And here I thought Dustin was your favorite.” Robin teases, poking his side. The action’s pretty small, but Steve’s visibly disorientated by it just a bit too long to be normal.

“Everyone has flaws, Rob.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and leans over the counter further, flopping his stomach onto it and stretching his arms as far as they would go. “So, what kind of stuff do they listen to anyway? I could probably work with it.”

“Um…Will usually listens to like…indie rock, I think is what he said. Max listens to a lot of punk.”

“ Punk? ” Eddie shoots up, leaps over the counter and slaps his hands on either side of Steve’s face. “No, no listen to me Harrington I can fix you.”

“Huh?”

“Baby please you don’t understand, ” Steve’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head, but Eddie continues without commenting. “Jonathan’s already corrupting you, I can’t have Mayfield do this too. There’s still time–”

“I’m corrupting him?”

The three quickly turn their heads, now noticing the customers actually gracing the store. Well, not customers exactly. Four familiar kids, each waiting with varying levels of patience and annoyance. 

“Are you even supposed to be back there?” Max scrunches her nose. 

Eddie quickly lets his hands fall from Steve’s face, completely turning away from him and hopping back over the counter. He does a quick wave of his hands and bows. “No longer breaking the rules, apologies your regency.”

Max flips him off without trying to hide it. 

“ So, ” Mike shoves down her hand and steps to the front of the group. “Movie.”

“Wow, really well put Mike .” Max elbows his side, getting a punch in the arm–though one that looked rather visibly weak–in response. 

“Huh?”

Eddie snorts, Steve’s still standing the exact same way he was before Eddie let go of him, not even looking in the general direction the kids were in.

“I believe your children are oh so kindly requesting a backdoor to the theater.” 

“Oh. Right.” He doesn’t even try to deny the children comment. “That. What movie is it?”

“We all agree on it!” Lucas interjects, narrowing his eyes at Mike before the boy can speak up. “And it’s not even horror.”

Steve slowly comes back to reality, turns to face the counter and raises a brow. “Ok, what movie?”

“Back to the Future.” Will says a bit fast–a bit loud, even. At least for him. “I um…I wanted to see it.”

“Oh. Ok. Yeah, sure I’ll let you in.”

“You’re not even fighting us on it?”

Once again, Lucas narrows his eyes.

“What, you want me to?”

This time, Max narrows her eyes as well, seeing Mike attempt to reply. She doesn’t say a word, but his mouth clicks shut.

“Seriously, I’m not in the mood for it so you guys can go.” 

For some reason, his words come off a little harsh. The conversation’s…uncharacteristic, for him. Any time Eddie’s seen the kids try and break into the movies he at least humors them a little . He looks the man up and down, notices the way his hands shake a bit, the way he’s still sort of squinting, especially whenever one of them talks, then frowns.

“Hey, you aren’t having another migraine, are you?”

Steve freezes up. As best as he can–his hands are still shaking. “What? No. I just didn’t feel like going around in verbal circles today, sue me.”

“I’m suing you. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers in five to seven business days.” Eddie walks back behind the counter, quiet as he does so. “You were late today, you’re shaking and you can barely keep track of anything right now. You’re having a migraine.”

“I’m fine. ”

“Oh yea?” Eddie gives his shoulder a light shove. Light. Despite the lack of force Steve stumbles and falls back, only narrowly avoiding hitting the ground when Eddie catches him and tugs him back up. “Hm. Motor control issues? Isn’t that a symptom of yours? You know, for that migraine you’re not having.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh no, irritability. Another one, not helping your case here, hope you got better lawyers.” Eddie lets him go, then looks over to Robin. “Think you’ll be fine running the place by yourself?”

Robin shrugs. “He only has about two hours left in his shift, I’ll survive.” She pauses, frowns, and puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder, speaking in a low voice in hopes that no one else hears. “But you’re calling in next time this happens. I mean it.”

“What? Rob, seriously I’m fine. ”

“I can go with you.” Max cuts in. 

Eddie shakes his head, quickly slapping a hand over Steve’s mouth before he could give any further objections. “No need, you lot go enjoy your movie, I’ll just drive this guy over here to our favorite Chief.”

“No.” Steve’s voice comes out muffled, he quickly shoves Eddie’s hand down. “ No, you don’t need to do that, you don’t even know where he lives!--”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me.”

“You’d literally have to torture it out of me.”

“Drive to the end of Kerley, park, and then walk for about ten minutes.” Mike glares at him. “And don’t tell anyone about it.”

“Ominous! Thank you, little Wheeler.” Eddie ruffles the boy’s hair and turns over to Steve. “Ready to head out, then?”

“No, actually I really don’t need to–”

Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and gives it a small tug, forcing him to follow out the store, waving at the rest of the group as he did so. Before Steve could manage to break from his grip, they were already at the van, Eddie hopping into the driver’s seat and waiting for Steve to get in as well.

“You take any pain meds before this started?”

“Nope.” Steve shifts in his seat and leans his head against the dash, offering his eyes some semblance of shade. “Did you let your boss know you’re just…taking an hour off?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re going to get in trouble.”

“I said don’t worry. ” Eddie pats Steve’s back and focuses on the road. “The guy loves me, and you know Buckley’s just as bad about this as I am. If she’s in the clear then so am I.”

Steve hums, takes in a deep breath, and further lets himself sink away from the sun glaring into the window. “Sorry. About this.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind, and I’m sorry I ever did.” He huffs. “So, Kerley?”

–

Steve’s barely able to walk by the time Eddie makes it to the end of the road Mike told him to go to. He helps him out of the car, which is an effort in its own right, and lets him lean his weight while walking those excruciating ten minutes out into the middle of nowhere. Eddie’s about to consider strangling Mike when he gets the chance, only to catch a glimpse of the cabin in the distance.

“Tripwire.”

“Huh?” Eddie glances down, eyes falling on a small bit of string just in front of them. What the hell?

They keep walking, Steve pressing more and more of his weight onto him until he’s basically carrying the guy, before they finally– finally –make it to the door.

“Knock twice.” Eddie does so. “Once. Three times.”

The door creaks open all on its own. Seriously. What in the actual shit?

“Who–” Hopper stops, seeing the two in the doorway, sighs, and pulls Steve inside. Wordlessly helps him over to a broom closet and hands him some clothes–ones that had to be Steve’s, though he didn’t know why they were there–then starts grabbing various things from the kitchen while Steve went into the bathroom to change.

“Um…sir…?”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Right.” Eddie coughs. “Sorry for just…dumping him on you like this. I’d just take him to mine or something but, you know, I was still at work and–”

He stops talking, for some reason, when Steve opens the door, now wearing a dark green sweater and black sweatpants. He’s got glasses on now, small and rectangular, not fully on properly, their position only worsened when he clumsily flops onto the couch, then groans when Hopper sets down a glass of water on the table, along with a bottle of Tylenol. 

“Can’t.”

“Take that when you can, but you’re drinking that water.” Hopper frowns. “Are you feeling sick?”

“A little.”

He nods, then goes back to the kitchen and grabs a bowl. Eddie tries to speak up again, but finds himself opening his mouth and closing it almost immediately after. A small girl walks into the room while he’s still mustering his voice.

“Hurt?”

Steve hums in response, while Hopper nods. The girl frowns, leaves the room for a moment, then comes back with a blanket and pillow. She places the pillow under Steve’s head, then drapes the blanket over him, sitting down in the recliner beside him. Just like the door, the TV turns on without anyone there to do so. 

“I um–”

“Didn’t you say you had work?”

The tone is harsh, Eddie’s mouth clicks shut for a second, but he wills himself to speak a lot faster than before. “Did he ever mention anything about Billy?”

“ Eds. ”

Eds. Eds? What? 

“No.” Hopper glares down at Steve, who in turn attempts to glare back, but doesn’t last very long, burying his head in the couch almost immediately. “Let's talk outside.”

“He showed up at the mall recently.” Eddie says, once they’ve gone out to the porch. “Tried to put his cigarette out on Harrington’s arm which– wow. ”

Hopper raises a brow. “Did he?”

“No, I kinda whacked the guy across the face with a two by four before he got the chance.” Eddie pauses. “You didn’t hear that.”

“Didn’t hear a damn word.” Hopper takes a cigarette out from the pack in his pocket, lights it, then takes a long drag. “Do you know how long this was a thing for?”

“Not sure, really. But definitely for a while.” Eddie sucks in a breath. “I think they’ve got some sort of deal. He didn’t say anything about it explicitly but…you know, Billy threatened the kids before, and Steve was like…actively not fighting the situation.”

“Guessing leaving the pigs out of it was a part of that agreement, huh?”

He shrugs. “Lucas said something about you two fighting after that first incident. He was supposed to tell you if the guy did it again, right?”

“Yep.”

“He’s kinda shit at telling people things.”

“I know.”

Eddie picks at his sleeves for a bit, then sighs. “What um…what exactly triggers a migraine?”

“Lights, stress, lack of sleep, dehydration, loud noises, the works."

Hopper keeps talking, he thinks. Something along the lines of complaints, how Steve is practically begging to have one every god damn morning. Eddie can only really half listen, his mind focused on two words in particular of that rant. Loud noises. Shit. Why didn't he think of that? Of course he's going to hate that genre. It literally hurts for him to listen to. 

And he listened to it anyway.

"He's supposed to come here." Hopper's voice fades back in. "Every time, without complaint. I don't know how he keeps convincing people not to." 

“I’ll make sure he does, then.” He bites his lip. “Can you…I don’t know if this is too much to ask but–I get off work in a few hours–can you have him call me, or something? Just so I know he’s not puking his guts out still? This whole thing it–I think it might’ve been my fault.”

Hopper takes another drag, his expression doesn’t look angry. If anything, it looks a bit sad. “He would’ve ended up like this either way, don’t worry about it. I’ll have him call you.”

He puts out the cigarette–halfway burnt, a total waste–and walks back inside, the doors still hanging open, so Eddie can see Steve still laying there, head buried against the pillow the girl brought out for him. She’s sat in front of the couch now, holding his hand. 

“You’re calling him once you’re ok.” Hopper says simply. “And next time this happens you come straight to me."

Steve hums in response, Hopper’s hand moves to ruffle his hair. “Sorry, dad.”

The hand freezes, for just a second, then the man shakes it off. Eddie quietly shuts the door and starts walking back to his car.

Chapter Text

Steve stares at himself in the mirror and sighs gloomily.

“Stop being dramatic,” Robin says. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is! It is that bad!”

The worst part about going to the cabin is that Hopper actually makes Steve wear his goddamn glasses. It’s been a whole day, he’s totally fine now! 

They’re horrible. Sure, they’re small, but the rectangular shape does not suit him, and the cheap plastic is just trashy. They make his face look so strange; he can barely even recognize himself. They’re ruining his second-best feature!

“I don’t even know what you’re worried about. It’s not like you’re trying to get numbers anymore.”

That’s true. Steve gave up after the last incident - largely because he spent the whole time thinking that the date would’ve been better if he was with Eddie. Not that he told Robin that: he’s not that stupid. 

“Hey, I have a reputation to uphold, alright? They make me look bad, and Steve Harrington never looks bad.”

She snorts in response, and then her eyes light on the doorway. She grins, looking very much like a cat playing with its food. “Well, if you don’t believe me, why don’t we ask Eddie what he thinks?”

Oh, no. That’s exactly what Steve was trying to avoid.

He’s so ashamed of what happened yesterday. The whole thing was a mess from beginning to end: Eddie had to drag him to Hopper’s, and he got a front-row seat (again) for how bad his migraines can be, and he told Hopper about the Billy situation (which Steve is not living down anytime soon), and he already saw Steve in his stupid, terrible glasses. Steve swallows down his nervousness and tries to smile.

Eddie slinks over to the counter and bows. “What favor may I grant thee on this fine day?”

“What do you think about Steve’s glasses?”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve’s for all of a second before Steve looks down. Steve feels a warm hand grasping his chin before Eddie tilts his face upwards. 

“They look nice on you,” he says after a long moment, before finally letting Steve go and stepping back. “You should wear ‘em more often, Stevie.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever blushed so hard in his entire life . He manages a nod, barely, and feels like a complete fucking airhead because he can't seem to spit anything out. 

“Told you so.” Robin pokes his side sharply, and he jolts back into himself.

“Shut up. What do either of you two know about fashion, anyway?”

“More than you,” Eddie says, gesturing to himself. 

Steve eyes him up and down. God, but Eddie is hot : the all-black look really suits him. He’s not about to admit to that, though. Instead, he snorts derisively.

“Maybe if you learned about the other colors. There’s a whole rainbow out there, Munson.”

“Oh, believe me, I know about rainbows.”

Robin steps between them. “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty. Anyway, Eddie, I can’t believe you’re here - aren’t you usually off the schedule today?”

“Yeah, but the boss came in yesterday for a ‘surprise inspection’, and I wasn’t there for, like, an hour. The only reason he didn’t fire me on the spot is because Dawn covered for me.”

“Dawn?” Robin and Steve ask at the same time. Steve’s truly shocked: from what he knows, Dawn couldn’t possibly care less about Eddie.

“I was surprised, too! She told him that I had a ‘family emergency', and thankfully he doesn’t know my uncle like everyone else does or I’d be completely fucked. So I’m supposed to work all day today.”

Steve eyes the abandoned record store nervously. “Maybe you should go over there?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily: my shift doesn’t start for another hour.”

Steve isn’t trying to get rid of Eddie! He’s just worried. If Eddie gets fired he won’t have any reason to trek out to the mall almost every day, and Steve won’t get to see him as often. If he’s got his timing right, and he’s pretty sure he does, Eddie’s boss probably came around when Eddie was helping Steve out. He definitely doesn’t want to be the reason Eddie loses his gig: that would probably break their friendship entirely. 

“Why are you here early?” Robin asks, head tilted. “Our boss couldn’t pay me to show up to this hellhole if I’m not on the schedule.”

Eddie perks up instantly. “ Because , my dear friend, Starcourt Mall has just unveiled a Strategist’s Lounge .” 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, or…” 

“It’s a game store,” Steve says thoughtlessly. “They sell, like, board games and stuff.” The kids have been ranting about it for ages . Lucas spent a week budgeting so that he can buy some Minifigure that looks just like his player character. 

Eddie claps. “Point to Steve! I have money from this stupid fucking job, and I fully intend to get the good stuff before the ravenous hoards get to it - no offense to your Party, of course.”

Robin groans, “Oh my God, it’s nerd shit? Come on, man, I get enough of that from Steve’s children.”

“My children are awesome , thank you very much. Actually, Eddie, do you mind if I come with? One of them - Dustin, you haven’t met him yet - is at camp, and he’s really disappointed he can’t be here for opening day. I figured I would get him a present or something.”

Steve’s not supposed to be spending so much money on the kids anymore, as part of his deal with Max, but he hasn’t seen Dustin in forever , and he wasn’t around when Steve made that deal, so it doesn’t count. No, he doesn’t have favorites. What kind of brother/babysitter/driver/mom would he be if he did?

“Just remember to leave some for the rest of us, yeah? I know it must be hard to control the urge to buy your kids literally everything they want, but the rest of us want a crack at it, too.”

Steve laughs and swings himself over the counter. “Yeah, man, I really gotta stop myself from getting them all brand-new manuals and minifigs.”

“You should get me one, too. You know, if you’re feeling generous.”

“And would you like a massive statue of a dragon with that, sir?” Steve puts on an accent that he hopes sounds British. British people are always the butlers.

“I wouldn’t say no .”

“Wait, you’re both going?” Robin asks. “Don’t leave me here alone - I won’t survive the winter.”

“Come with us, then,” Steve says cheerfully. 

“To the nerd store, Steve?”

“Join us, join us, join us,” Eddie chants, banging his fists against the counter.

“I don’t know if you two geniuses have noticed, but there’s only two of us working at Scoops today. You might be okay abandoning ship, but I’m not.”

Steve turns around and gestures to the empty store. “Yeah, and serve all these customers. Come on, Robin, you know you want to.” 

Robin mutters something to herself and walks over to them. “Fine. I’m not playing the game, though, just so you know. This is purely because I’d rather die than serve a customer.”

“I’ve never actually played, either,” Steve says as the head out of Scoops.

Eddie gasps. “You spend all that time with those kids and you’ve never played?”

He shrugs. “Dustin tried to teach me, but, uh. It was kind of a failure.”

Failure is one word for what happened. Dustin had to admit defeat after four straight hours of trying to explain classes and race to him because Steve just didn’t get it. Also, there’s all that math, which isn’t exactly Steve’s best subject. 

“That was Dustin .” Eddie’s tone is extremely snide, which is funny for a guy who’s never even met Dustin. “You have me, now. I’m not giving up on you, Steve: we’ll make a proper geek out of you yet.”

Sometimes, Steve thinks that Eddie is messing with him on purpose. He’ll say or do things that Steve can’t help but see as flirtatious. He knows it’s all in his head, but, really . 

Steve ignores the heat rising in his cheeks as he responds, “Hey, don’t forget about Robin. If I’m playing then she has to, too.”

“Absolutely not.” She crosses her arms firmly.

“How much do you actually know about D&D?” Eddie asks. “Because it’s not what people think it is. Tell me, Robin, how do you feel about theater?”

“Uh, I mean, I like watching musicals and stuff. But I don’t want to be in one: it sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“There’s no pressure. Really!” He says, clearly seeing Robin’s doubtful look. “You don’t have to memorize lines; it’s all improv, and it’s pretty simple improv, too. You just pick a person and pretend to be them. Or you could just play yourself,” he adds. “Gareth does that all the time. Come on, Robin, you’re telling me you don’t want to be an elf with some badass magic powers, saving dams - lords in distress?”

Steve frowns. That was odd: for a second there, it really sounded like Eddie was going to say something else.

“Steve says that there’s a lot of math.”

“It’s not hard math. Seriously, it’s just basic addition and subtraction. You can bring a calculator if you want: Jeff does, because he gets, like, eight attacks per turn and all of them do crazy damage.”

Robin looks like she’s seriously thinking about it. Not good: she’s actually smart . If Steve gets stuck learning D&D with her it’s going to make him look like a complete airhead. Which he is , but still. He’d rather not fumble with basic addition right in front of these two. 

“We’ll need to get you a player’s handbook and a few dice sets,” Eddie says, his hands bouncing around in excitement. It’s kind of sweet: Steve really likes how expressive he is.

“Why a few? Can’t I just use one?”

Steve shakes his head. Even he knows the answer to that one. “Sometimes the dice need to go to jail because they keep rolling bad numbers.”

Eddie cheers, “Another point to Steve, because that’s exactly right! It’s a little superstitious, admittedly, but, well. We all like a bit of magical thinking, don’t we?”

“I don’t know… aren’t those manuals expensive?”

“Stevie here can pay for it.” Eddie slings his arm around Steve’s shoulder and drags him close. “Right, Steve?”

Steve snorts. “Sure. Why don’t I get us all dice made out of diamonds while I’m at it?”

Eddie pauses in his tracks. “Okay, I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure you’re joking, but… you are joking, right?”

“Dude, I work at an ice cream store for minimum wage. Obviously I am.”

“I knew that!”

Steve rolls his eyes and shrugs Eddie’s arm off, even though all he wants to do is huddle closer. 

“We’ll have to split a handbook, Robin, because there’s no way I can afford my own. I’m poor as dirt .”

Robin laughs, but Eddie, weirdly, deflates. Steve looks at him with concern: he’s gone from practically floating to being a complete wet rug in a matter of seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Robin glances at Eddie, and luckily Steve isn’t alone in thinking that Eddie’s acting a little strangely. She asks, “Yeah, are you alright?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Steve is so unimpressed. He stops in the middle of the mall and raises his eyebrow at Eddie. Robin stops, too. People have to stream around them, and a couple of people that aren’t paying attention bump into him, but Steve doesn’t give a shit. 

Eddie huffs. “Jesus - can we just move on? The store is opening soon, and I really would like to get a few things.”

Steve and Robin trade a look. “Nope,” they say.

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are so annoying.”

“Yep,” they agree.

“Ugh. Fine! I don’t appreciate jokes like that, Steve, alright? Since I’m, like, actually poor. Are we done?”

Actually poor? So is Steve - he has all of twenty dollars to his name, and that’s an all-time high since his mom and dad stopped helping him out. Really, he hasn’t had serious money since before he started hanging around the kids: his first F in Freshman year came with a massive argument and a significant drop in cash on hand. 

He looks over at Robin, who’s nodding.

“I understand, and I’m sure Steve does, too. Right, Steve?” She eyes him significantly. “We’re sorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Steve parrots, still confused.

He told Robin almost everything that went down with his parents. She knows he doesn’t have a trust fund or an allowance anymore. And while he hasn’t told Eddie any of that directly, he has to know, right? Steve doesn’t really make a secret of it.

Although… Does he? Robin knows he lost the cash, but she doesn’t know that he’s supposed to get out of his parent’s house soon, and he’s pretty sure she hasn’t figured out exactly how bad his food situation usually is. And he truly has no idea how much Eddie has overheard or what he’s figured out - maybe he thinks that Steve gets gently bullied by all of his friends for fun ?

“Oh, no, you’ve got your thinking face on,” Robin says. “What’s that all about?”

“Nothing. Just, uh, thinking about all the… cool, glossy manuals I’m about to buy.”

She frowns. “Okay, what the hell is wrong with you ? Did something get broken up there?”

“It’s nothing!”

Eddie and Robin both stop dead in the middle of the mall, and now Steve completely understands why Eddie folded so quickly. There’s something extremely awkward about being stuck with two people who absolutely refuse to move. 

“That’s my trick! You can’t use that on me,” he protests.

“I can and I will,” Robin threatens.

Eddie nods. “This is officially an interrogation. You can talk, or we can make you talk.”

“I…” Steve glances around - no convenient Nancy Wheeler is around to save him this time.  “I just didn’t realize that you thought I was joking, because I’m also actually poor.”

Robin sighs. “Steve, your dad not giving you can allowance doesn’t make you -”

“I know that, Robin. He, uh, kind of took everything?”

“What do you mean by everything ?” Eddie asks.

“I mean, I had a bank account and a trust fund, right? But he said that was all his money, not mine, so… poof. I literally didn’t have a dollar to my name after graduation. I’m just lucky I filled the Beemer up before he did that.”

“But, wait, he left you the car?” 

Robin looks increasingly confused. Welcome to his world.

“Oh, yeah, that one was in my name, because he got me that before I started fucking up, so he couldn’t take it. Like, legally. But everything else was gone.”

“Oh my God, is that why you’re always bumming lunches off the Chinese place? I thought you were cheap!”

“I am cheap!”

“Your fridge was empty,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck, your fridge - you son of a bitch, do you even know how to eat on a budget?”

“Not really,” Steve shrugs. “I’m working on it. See: the Chinese place.”

He shakes his head sadly. “I’m teaching you to save, Steve. That’s just depressing.”

“Wait, how much money do you have?” Robin asks. “You’ve been working at Scoops for a while, so you have to have something saved up, right?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “Twenty,” he responds awkwardly.

“And you’re buying presents for your kids? What is wrong with you? I don’t care if Dustin is your favorite, you can’t just do that! What will you eat ? How will you pay for gas?”

“Hate to say it, man, but she has a point. You are no longer allowed on this adventure: go back to home base, Stevie.”

“That’s so unfair!” Steve pauses for a second. “Also, I’m an adult, you can’t tell me what to do.”

Eddie steps forward. Steve watches, frozen, as Eddie slowly comes entirely into his space. He leans forward, right in Steve’s face, his big, brown eyes twinkling under the mall lights.

“Oh, darling, I really think I can. Be a good boy and go back to Scoops.”

If Steve were capable of higher thought, he would be pointing out that this is exactly what he was thinking about earlier. Eddie is for sure messing with him on purpose because there’s no other explanation for this shit.

Steve, sadly, is not capable of thinking anything other than things like: warm , and close , and good boy . 

“Okay,” he manages weakly. His only goal now is to get the hell out of there before he makes a terrible mistake right in front of half of Hawkins.

Eddie’s lips quirk upwards just slightly. If Robin was a cat playing with her food, Eddie is a cat that already has the canary in its damn mouth. Don’t think about mouths, bad Steve.

“Thank you. See you later.”

And with that, he and Robin swan off in the direction of Strategist’s Lounge . Steve is left alone in the mall, frozen like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, buddy, can you move it?” a large and irate man shouts, shoving past Steve roughly. Steve barely catches himself from falling.

He walks back to Scoops stiffly. He glances at the clock when he opens the door - fuck, that only took ten minutes? It felt like an eternity from where he’s standing.

He goes through the motions of getting the store in shape robotically. He actually manages to serve a customer - he has absolutely no idea what they order or if he even charges them, but he knows for a fact that someone walked in without ice cream and walked out with ice cream. 

Robin and Eddie walk back in, both of them laden with bags. Steve’s managed to calm down a little by sheer force of will, but a part of him instantly starts looping around good boy the second Eddie enters his vision again. He’s this close to banging his head against the wall to shake it loose: it’s not like his brain can get any worse.

“You end up getting what you wanted?” He asks Eddie. He doesn’t really get why Robin is helping him carry it: she is not the type to do more physical activity than she absolutely has to.

“Some of it. I also got these babies.” Eddie tugs a Player’s Handbook and a small bag, probably filled with dice, out of Robin’s bag. “We had to work together to afford it, but, personally, I think it’s worth it.”

“Oh. Well, hold on, how much was it?”

“You’re not paying for any of it, Dingus,” Robin says.

“Don’t try anything funny, either,” Eddie adds, eyes narrowed. “I know all the tricks.”

Steve stares at the Player’s Handbook, glossy and fresh. He’s pretty sure he’s not clever enough to fool both Eddie and Robin. 

“Fine. So, when are we doing this?”

Eddie smiles, and it’s very nearly as bright as the fucking sun. “I’m thinking July third? That’s the only day that none of us are working for a while. I know it’s only, like, a week away, so if you already have plans we can figure something else out.”

“It’s fine by me, but don’t we have to make characters before we start?”

Eddie waves a hand. “Oh, that’s easy. I can roll those out in, like, five minutes. People make such a big deal out of race and class, but it just has to match your backstory. You guys decide who you want to be, and I’ll make sure you get a character that makes sense. Just, uh, think of some personality traits or something. You don’t gotta get too deep into it.”

“Eddie,” Robin cuts in.

“Yes?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Ah.”

Steve represses the glare he wants to send Robin’s way. He thought the rambling was cute!

“Anyway, I should probably set up the store, so I’ll catch you two later.” He gives them both a wave and walks out.

Robin places the Player’s Handbook carefully on the table in the back. 

“He does make it sound fun, doesn’t he?” She asks contemplatively. “I feel like I’ve been tricked.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, he does that.” He sure as shit feels like he’s been tricked at every goddamn turn. 

She shrugs. “Worst comes to worst, we spend a few hours playing a stupid game. It’s not like we’re going to become obsessed.”

Chapter Text

Jonathan isn’t nervous. 

There’s no reason to be, so he isn’t. He feels a lot more…happy, than usual walking into the mall. He doesn’t scrunch up his shoulders when he forces his way through the crowds of people. He doesn’t think too hard about how there’s so many people here, how are there so many people here, no one lives here.

He thinks about it a little bit, but he’s shit in crowds so it can’t be helped. 

Either way, he’s completely calm entering the storefront of Scoops. He does a few quick glances around the place–two kids giggling at a table close to the register, one mother and child in line in front of him, Robin handling the order in a manner that screams the exact opposite of customer service, and Steve, completely zoned out, stood off to the side. 

Jonathan’s eyes trail off him for a moment, just a moment, before they zip right back. He steps out of the line and makes his way over to him, quiet when he clears his throat.

“Hey.” Steve still jumps at Jonathan’s voice, still has to blink back to reality. “Sorry dude, I uh…I finished it.”

“Huh?”

Jonathan huffed, but smiled, lifting up his messenger bag a bit. “The uh…that art exhibit? The one I applied for a while back? I finished putting it all together, I just need to pick the ones I want to show.”

At that, Steve visibly lights up. He slams his hands on the counter a few times, stumbles way through announcing his thirty, then basically sprints out from behind the counter to drag Jonathan to one of the booths in the corner of the store.

“Ok. First off. Isn’t this whole…show…exhibit thing–it’s not till 16th, right?”

Jonathan blinks, because, holy shit, how does Steve just know this, completely off the top of his head, then nods. 

“Dude. It’s not even July yet, why are you already finished?”

“First of all, it’s the 28th, so July is not a far away concept, and second off, because I didn’t procrastinate my way through highschool.”

Steve grins, a sly sort of expression, eyes narrowed as he leans forward on the table. “Nancy totally lectured you didn’t she?”

“I have to write two hundred words on each photo I choose, and I haven’t even started.”

“Ha! I knew it! You’re a terrible liar, Byers.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, because seriously, why would he be so smug about this? How dare he be right about something, it’s rude. He still lets himself smile, just a bit, though it falls the second Steve’s expression fades, dulling out to that same space-y look he had on before. 

Coincidentally, Eddie walks into the store, waving down Buckley and already chatting away, only casting a small glance back to give Steve a nervous wave. 

“Did something happen again?”

“Wh–” Steve starts sputtering, a clear sign as any that yes, something most certainly happened. “Nothing hap–wait, again? Who told–”

“Max did.” He pauses. “Well, Max told Lucas who told Mike who told Will who told me. And Nancy might have mentioned something. Those two aren’t giving you trouble, are they?”

“Snitches, the lot of them. And no , we’re actually on good terms now, don’t know if that little tidbit has trickled down the rumor mill just yet.”

It had. Will was raving about Eddie just a few days ago, and he trusts that kid’s opinion pretty damn well. He doesn’t say that, though. “The terms you’re on are irrelevant, you didn’t answer my question.”

“And you still haven’t shown me the photos.”

“I have time. It’s not even July yet, after all.” Jonathan smiles, smug in his own right at Steve’s scoff, turning his own words against him. “I’ll show you later. Talk first.”

“I–” Steve glances over at the two again. Eddie had apparently been looking in their direction, as his head whips back over to face Robin the second their eyes fall on him. Steve sighs and looks down at his hands. “Look, I’m serious. We’re on decent terms now, they don’t totally hate my guts anymore, it’s just they kind of ended up…finding out about my…finding out about how shit I am with money?”

An incredibly light way of putting it, at least from what information Jonathan had been given about it. His expression must show that, because Steve immediately jumps back at the defense. 

“They were actually really understanding about it, I swear. We were like–well, Eddie mentioned that new store opening up–the one with all the DnD shit–and we originally were gonna ditch Scoops and go, all three of us, but then they found out I had fuck all to my name and I got booted.”

“And you’re not upset about this at all.” Jonathan deadpans, one eyebrow raised, already expecting the response he’s about to get.

“I’m not.” There it is, just like clockwork. 

Jonathan could call him out on this. He could verbally drag his sorry ass through the mud, list off every little detail of the way he’s carrying himself right now that would prove otherwise, because Steve’s the kind of person to put every emotion he’s currently experiencing wide on display, even if he thinks he’s oh so great at hiding it. He doesn’t. He looks incredibly unimpressed, but he doesn’t press. 

Instead, he looks over at the source. They’re both watching him now, the two whispering to themselves like gossiping schoolgirls, quickly whipping their heads around for good measure the second they meet his eyes. They know something’s up. They’re at a stand still, and while Robin looks mostly bored and a little concerned, Eddie, for reasons unknown, well…

He looks downright furious . 

“A deal’s a deal.” He shrugs, turning back to Steve and pulls out the small box from the bottom of his bag. 

Steve looks like an honest to god kid on Christmas, eyes lit up, quickly grabbing for the box and rifling through its contents. It's a far cry from the empty looks he’d had before, an even farther cry from any reaction two-years-ago Jonathan would’ve expected from him about a photography project.

Current Jonathan watches the scene as though it's natural, a lazy smile on his face as he waits for Steve to look through them all.

“Ok. Ok wait. What if we sorted these?” Steve waits for a response, then realizes the small hum Jonathan made was as good as he was gonna get. “Like, three piles. Ones for sure yes, one’s I'm not so sure maybe, and then one’s fuck that picture in particular.”

“So…yes, maybe, no?”

“If you want to be boring about it, sure. For example,” Steve slides one of the photos away from the large pile. It’s a photo of Joyce, laughing at something on the TV, holding her sides. “Is for sure yes.”

“And,” Jonathan pulls another photo out from the pile, a landscape. The quarry. “Is for sure no.”

Steve wrinkles up his nose. “Why’d you take that?”

“Dunno.” 

Steve doesn’t push him on it, same as Jonathan hadn’t pressed before. Instead, they both go through the pile in relative silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional comment–usually about how sappy most of them were.

“That’s the theme jackass.” Jonathan says eventually, snatching the photo Steve had been waving in his hand. It’s the kids, all gathered around Will’s hospital bed, animatedly telling him about their adventures. “It’s about like…home and family and shit.”

“Sap. What’s your thing called, again? ‘The power of love and friendship is actually cool guys; you should try it’?”

“I’m just an animal looking for a home.”

“You use your punk band lyrics to disguise the fact that you love us very much and you want to gush about it in an emo and lame fashion. You can’t show me all these pictures of people fucking…cuddling and hugging and then say you’re an angsty loner or whatever, that’s just–” 

Steve freezes up, picking up one photo in particular. He’s dead silent for at least a minute, and his grip on the thing is so tight it might honest to god tear; Jonathan really hopes it doesn’t. He can’t even see the photo and he knows which one it is.

Quickly, Jonathan casts another glance over to Eddie, the man’s glaring even harder now, if that were possible. 

“You should dump this one.” Steve says finally, pulling Jonathan’s attention back to him. “Fuck this one in particular, definitely, without a doubt–”

Jonathan slides the photo over to the keep pile the second Steve lets it go. Now it’s in plain view. Its main subject is Steve, dead asleep on the Byers’ couch, face half beat to all hell. Dustin was draped on top of him while Max was asleep at his feet. The rest of the group had pillows and blankets set up, all sprawled out together in a huge pile. Lucas held onto Max’s hand. Despite Mike denying the action at every opportunity, his hand held onto Steve’s.

“Seriously. It’s a shit photo, it’s super blurry, out of focus or whatever the term is. Totally shot, sorry but it just has to go–”

Jonathan puts his hands over Steve’s before he can grab the photo again. He’s not looking Eddie’s way, but he can practically feel the psychic damage the man’s trying to send to him. 

“It’s my favorite.” He says with a soft smile, squeezing his hands a bit. “I’m making it the focal piece.” 

“Oh.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good setup going now.” Jonathan’s casual in his movements, in his tone, gathering up the photos and setting them back in the box in their new order. “I appreciate the help.”

“Uh–yea. It’s–it’s really not a big deal.”

The two stand at about the same time, Jonathan just a bit behind as he slides the box back in his bag. He puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze.

“I mean it.” The hand slides off; he finally spares a glance Eddie’s way and immediately regrets it. He’s only pulled from the psychic fury when Steve sprints off in their direction, likely to go hide in the breakroom for the rest of his break, though he’s stopped before he can manage that. 

“I can watch the store for you two. Let customers know you’ll be gone for a bit.” Eddie says suddenly, a hand held just a bit too tight on Steve’s wrist, though the grip almost immediately loosens.

“Huh?”

“We kind of overheard the conversation.” Robin glances to the side. “Just a little bit. Just a smidge. We could go now, while you’re still on your break. I can help pick something out.”

“And we can split the cost, you know, between the three of us.” Eddie emphasizes the number, looks over at Jonathan when he does, who’s still standing in the doorway. The man looks offended by this, for some reason.

“Oh! You don’t–I was just going to…sit in the breakroom. For an extended period of time. To wallow in regrets and all that.”

Robin frowns, eyes wide and pleading, a full puppy dog look that would put Will to shame.

“Please? Let us make it up to you?” She starts fidgeting with her hands. “You’re always like…super respectful of what bothers us so it’s only fair that we do the same and we didn’t , therefore…! Shopping trip! Please.”

Eddie’s waving the two off in a matter of moments. Jonathan sighs, then turns to finally walk away.

“Hey!” Eddie’s waving him over now. It was a loud call; people were looking their way because of the volume. Damn those societal obligations.  

“Um…hello?”

“Sorry, sorry I’m sure you’re really busy with that whole photography thing you’ve got going on, just wanted to say something really quick.” Eddie leans forward, burning glare returning now that Steve was out of view. “Don’t play with his feelings. I know he was a dick to you in the past, but that’s still pretty fucked.”

“Feelings?--” Jonathan takes a step back, though Eddie just leans forward more. Feelings? Up until last year he’s pretty sure Steve hated his guts. Or at least…tolerated him because of Nancy. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not–well he’s definitely not–”

Eddie narrows his eyes. Jonathan looks around, checking to see if anyone was there. The few customers in the area had long since left. The store was empty.

“Look, I don’t know what it is you think’s going on but…” Jonathan furrows his brows, mind trailing back to their conversation. Was that flirting? Do people call that flirting? “Oh.”

“Yea, oh. Don’t say shit like that unless you mean it.” 

This time, Jonathan narrows his eyes, though he doesn’t say anything on it. Instead, he nods, and quickly makes his way out of the store.

He takes a long route, despite his growing anxieties being in the crowds. The game store is close to one of the exits, even if it is the one on the opposite side of where his car is parked. He can just stop by, say its on his way and…apologize? Clarifying his sole idea of flirting is the notes in the locker crap Steve used to pull on Nancy, or…monster hunting….christ. 

Jonathan huffs and walks up to the storefront, only to stop just short of the entrance. Steve’s smiling, the same wide grin he had on looking at all his photos, ranting to Robin about some campaign story Dustin must have told him. He huffs, turns on his heels and walks back out of the mall. He’ll just have to confer with Nancy first. It’s probably better that way.

Chapter Text

Ozerov stares down at the recording in contemplation. He nearly sighs - it can be so tiresome to be surrounded by so many incompetent fools.

One of his scientists opens his mouth. “Commander -”

“Quiet.”

Absolute silence reigns. 

“You allowed the Creature to escape,” he says. The Creature is the thing they pulled from the other world. It’s hulking, with long arms and legs, skin like snow, and a face that opens like a Venus Fly Trap. He hopes, truly, that they can figure out a way to use the Creature against the United States. They could release an army of things just like it if they found enough, although all they have right now is the one. And they don’t even have that anymore.

“Sir -”

“I said quiet . Not only that, but you have no way to recapture it or even kill the thing, and you cannot guarantee another Creature of its like - it took months for us to get one . And you let it go.”

“I didn’t -”

Ozerov shoots the useless man in the head. “Does anyone else have any excuses?”

Silence. Good: he hates pointless chatter.

“Find the Creature. Learn how to kill it or capture it - I do not care which - or find someone who already knows.”

Not that he has much hope of that. Say what he will about the inefficiencies of the United States government, they surely would never allow someone with such valuable knowledge to remain unprotected.

“Absolutely not.”

Steve has his hands on his hips, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. Yes, that's right: he’s gone full Mom-Mode.

“Come on,” Max pleads, “we really wanna see it!”

“Mom took Holly to see it, and she’s a baby . It can’t be that bad!” Mike says.

“ You sound like a baby,” Robin mutters, though not quietly enough for Mike to miss it. He bristles.

“I do not!”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Children, please behave. Robin, have you seen this… Day of the Dead ?” Steve would usually watch it himself, but this came out, like, yesterday, and he just hasn’t had enough time.

She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Sorry, everyone. You’re just gonna have to wait to see it another day.” Preferably after Steve’s gotten a chance to make sure that the kids won’t freak out after watching it.

Mike and Max share a long look, and Steve gets a bad feeling. Those two are complete menaces all on their own - together, they’re his worst fucking nightmare.

“What if we confirmed it was fine with someone else?” Mike asks.

“A trusted source, not some random person,” Max adds quickly.

Steve frowns. He knows there’s a trick here, somewhere, but he can’t see it. 

“That would be fine, I guess. Your mom doesn’t count, though, Wheeler.”

No offense to Karen Wheeler, but Steve doesn’t quite trust her to know what’s too scary for her son these days. 

Mike smiles. “Great! Give me a moment.”

Steve watches, dread crawling up his spine, as Mike rushes directly across the mall to the record store, where Eddie actually seems to be doing his job for once. He talks with Eddie for a moment, his hands flying like little birds as he explains. Eddie nods seriously and stands, and together they walk back to Scoops.

Steve scowls. He points at Mike the instant he crosses the threshold and says, “You fucker! Eddie doesn’t think a goddamn thing is scary.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Not true, Stevie.”

“Name one.”

“Reaganites.”

Robin cackles. “I think he has you there.”

Steve glares at all of them: Robin, who’s still laughing; the kids, who are grinning like a bunch of little shitheads; and Eddie, who just looks delighted, the son of a bitch. He’s not the one who’s going to have to hunt for Demogorgons at three in the morning.

“Fine. Got a question for you, Eddie: any flashing lights?”

“Nope.”

“Zombie dogs?”

He tilts his head. “I don’t remember any dogs at all.”

Max stomps her foot. “Come on, Steve, just give in already. You know you’re going to.”

“Alright, just one more thing, calm down. Will, are you sure you want to see this?”

Will ended up bagging out the last time the kids wanted to watch something scary. Steve has to make sure he’s not getting walked all over by the more stubborn members of the Party.

Will nods seriously in response. “I really do.”

“Fine, I’ll allow it.”

The children cheer. Steve rolls his eyes and opens the door connecting all of Starcourt’s stores. “If I get one call tonight, I swear -”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on!” Max rushes through the door without so much as a thank you. Lucas follows behind her quickly, and Mike and Will hang in the back, chatting about how cool this movie is going to be.

None of them even thank him. He’s risking his job here, people!

Eddie leans against the counter, his fingers drumming relentlessly against the cheap plastic. “Have you guys thought about your characters at all?”

Robin nods. “I know you said not to put too much thought into class and race, but I really like the idea of being a Halfling Paladin. They had a nice, normal life, a farm and a family, the whole nine yards, until it was all taken from them by a group of bandits.”

“Nice! I like what I’m hearing. What about you, Steve?”

“Not really.” Steve has put some thought into it, actually, and he’s come up completely blank. He’s just not creative enough for this sort of thing.

“That’s alright. It’s better to have some kind of attachment, but we can always roll you up something completely random.”

“How does rolling up a character work, anyway?” Robin asks. “The Handbook doesn’t really explain it well.”

Thank fuck it’s not just Steve. He can’t make heads or tails of half the shit in there.

Eddie props his chin on his palm. “Basically, you roll a D20 six times and assign whatever numbers you get to your main skills. Most people assign higher rolls to the skills they’re going to use a lot. Like, you’d want to put your highest roll in Intelligence if you’re playing as a Wizard.”

Robin frowns. “So it’s completely random? What if our rolls are, like, really bad?”

Eddie shrugs. “It happens. You either figure out how to handle it or you let that character die. There’s no fun without a little risk, right?”

The bell on the counter dings . A housewife with some truly massive hair and her daughter are standing there, looking at Steve and Robin expectantly.

“We’re in a hurry,” the mom snaps. Steve almost groans - the entitled parents are worse than the children.

He plasters on his very best customer service smile. “Of course, ma’am. How can I help you today?”

“She wants a scoop of vanilla in a cone.”

The little girl glares at her mom. “No, I want two scoops of chocolate!”

The mom’s mouth twists. “That’s too much sugar, and you’ll get it all over your dress.”

Steve scoops the vanilla. He feels bad for the kid - he’s definitely been there - but the mom’s the one with the money. Parents pull that kind of shit all the time, and usually for worse reasons.

Well, Mrs. Henderson doesn’t. And neither does Joyce, come to think of it. Hopper is a hard-ass, but he tries . The Sinclairs are nice. Whatever! They’re exceptions, clearly.

The lights flicker and die just as he’s ringing up the mom. For a moment, Steve is alone in the dark. He knows that his friends are right there, that the housewife and her kid are in front of him, but he can’t see them or hear them, and his stupid brain rockets into panic mode.

His palms sweat, making the cone in his hand hard to grip. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears, can feel goosebumps rising on his arms. His heart kicks up a notch like he’s in the middle of a basketball game. 

What’s going on, anyway? Is it some Upside Down bullshit? His bat is all the way in his trunk - there’s no way he can get to the parking lot and back if there are monsters on the loose. He has a lighter in his pocket - is that enough? Probably not: he’ll have to set something on fire and use it as a weapon. Is there anything flammable nearby?

The lights come back on. Steve breathes a sigh of relief and checks Eddie and Robin out of the corner of his eye. They’re both confused, but they’re also unharmed. Thank God.

The housewife snaps her fingers right in his face. Steve flinches backward. 

“Can we move this along? I don’t have all day. God, what do we even pay you people for?”

Steve attempts a smile, this one significantly weaker than the last. “Sorry about that, ma’am. That’ll be $2.75.”

She scoffs and hands over the exact amount, and then she grabs her daughter’s wrist and pulls her out of Scoops. Steve watches to make sure they’re long gone.

“I’m gonna check the back,” he says. “Make sure the freezers are all up and running. Robin, can you watch the front?”

“Sure, but… are you okay? You look a little pale - are you getting a migraine?”

Steve shakes his head. Robin steps closer, and Steve has to fight the urge to get away from her. She’s his friend , she’s not going to do anything. 

“I’m fine, I - I’m just checking, okay? I’ll be back.”

Steve walks into the back with all the stiffness of a toy soldier. He has no fucking clue how he makes it there - he can barely fucking bend his knees without falling over. He sinks against a wall with a good view of the exit and tries to breathe. 

But he can’t breathe. He can’t . He feels like his lungs are being crushed or something: he can’t seem to get enough air. He’s coached the kids through enough of these to understand what’s happening to him - hell, he’s woken up from more than one nightmare in this state. His brain is tricking him into thinking he’s short on air, even though that’s not actually true. The knowledge doesn’t help: Steve still pants like a fucking dog.

“Steve?”

Steve jolts and bangs his head against the back wall. Oh, he’s really in a bad state - that barely hurts at all.

Eddie is standing in the doorway, concern etched on his face. “Shit, are you okay? Never mind, obviously you’re not, that was a dumb fucking question.”

Steve stares at him blankly. 

Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “Can I come closer?”

No . Steve shirks backward and shakes his head. Eddie puts his hands up.

“Alright, that’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

Eddie doesn’t move an inch and Steve feels marginally more comfortable. Marginally - he’s still sweating and panting, and his heart is still racing. 

“Steve, you gotta breathe. You gotta - shit, you already know that, don’t you? Okay, um, can you match my breathing? Is that - would that help?”

Steve doesn’t understand the question, like, at all. He’s already dumb enough all on his own, he really doesn’t need this bullshit panic attack making him worse . 

“Just do what I do, alright?”

Steve can do that. 

Eddie takes a deep breath in, and Steve does the same. He holds it, and so does Steve, even though his body is begging him to take another breath, another, he’s running out of air . Eddie breathes out slowly, waits for Steve to do the same, and then he repeats the cycle. Breathe in, hold, release, all achingly, terribly slow, but it works. 

Steve is chilly because of all the sweat and he feels fucking exhausted , but he’s in control again, so he’ll take it. He drops his head against the wall with a sigh - ow . Fuck, he forgot he banged his head earlier.

“You feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Steve swallows around Eds , the nickname he desperately wants to call Eddie. He doesn’t have that right, especially not after forcing his friend to help him out of a completely unnecessary panic attack. Poor Steve Harrington, scared half to death by a power outage. He really needs to get a fucking grip.

“No problem. It was the lights, right?”

Steve lifts his head to look at Eddie. “What?”

“Earlier you asked if the movie had any flashing lights. I figured that was just for the kids, but it’s not, is it?” 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Steve says. Eddie will believe him, obviously, because Steve is a fantastic liar. 

“Dude, you don’t have to give me details or anything, but don’t lie right to my face.”

Steve stares at him in confusion. “How did you know?”

“You’re really bad at lying,” Eddie responds, crouching down to Steve’s level.

“But I’m not? I - I lie to people all the time!” He lied to Carol and Tommy constantly , and Steve couldn’t get through a single conversation with his parents without saying something completely untrue, and they always believed him.

Eddie shrugs. “Well, whoever believed you wasn't paying attention.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that, so he decides not to think about it at all. 

“Did Robin send you in here?” Steve asks. He would stand, he’s still feeling a little wobbly. 

“Sort of. She wanted to check on you herself, but I told her I would take care of - that I would handle it. I mean, if you were having a migraine she wouldn’t exactly be able to get you home, right?” 

Steve nods. That makes sense, he supposes. Eddie already had to bail him out of trouble twice - three times, actually, what with Hargrove showing up to make his life miserable. What’s one more?

Christ. Steve really needs to start handling his own shit, this is just ridiculous.

“Do you mind not telling her? It’s kind of embarrassing.”

Eddie offers Steve a hand up. “I don’t think it’s embarrassing,” he says, helping Steve to his feet. His palm is warm and rough, his fingers covered with calluses. Very hot, Steve will definitely put some thought into that later.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m serious! It was very Poltergeist , man, that shit is spooky. But I won’t tell her as long as you answer one question honestly. Fair trade?”

Steve can’t see any issue with that. “Sure, I guess. What’s up?”

“Your story with the kids, how you all met each other - that shit is vague on purpose. Makes the lies easy to remember.”

Shit . Shit, not good, very not good. “Is that your question?” Steve asks, trying very hard not to send himself straight back into panic mode.

“Nope, I’ve got that much figured out on my own. My question is: do you think you’ll ever tell me the truth? I know we haven’t known each other that long, so I’m not gonna push, but… I have to admit, I’m really curious.”

Absolutely not. Look at what happened to poor Bob Newby, Barbara Holland, hell, look at Benny! People that get involved in this shit die . Or the kids, who often can’t sleep at night, or Nancy, who can’t watch horror movies anymore, or Jonathan Byers, who came this close to losing his whole fucking family. Steve himself has permanent brain damage, and as far as he’s concerned he’s gotten off easy. 

Steve won’t allow that to happen to Eddie. It’s not right.

Not that it’s an issue. El closed the last gate, so they’re relatively safe. No gate, no Upside Down. No Upside Down, no monsters. But Steve isn’t about to push his luck.

“No,” he says, and he’s never been more honest.

“Oh.” Eddie seems downcast. He probably thinks Steve doesn’t really like him when that couldn’t be further from the truth: Steve likes Eddie so much that he’s willing to keep him far away from the stranger things in the world. “I see.”

Steve won’t apologize for keeping Eddie safe. Really, Eddie would be thanking him if he understood the sheer magnitude of what Steve was keeping from him. It’s better this way.

“Hi, guys!” Robin greets cheerfully. Too cheerfully - fuck, she probably heard everything. Steve forgets how easily sound carries in this place, and he and Eddie weren’t exactly trying to keep quiet. “Are the freezers okay?”

“They’re fine,” Steve says, though he didn’t check at all.

“That’s great! Thanks for helping him out, Eddie: I know the back gets confusing sometimes.”

Wow. She is really bad at this. “Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“You can stop pretending.”

She drops the act like it’s going out of style. “Thank God. Are you alright? Do you need to go home? I can cover with the boss for you - I’ll tell him you stayed the whole shift. It’s not like he checks.”

“It’s alright, Robin. I can stick around.” Steve feels fine now that his dumbass brain has finally realized he’s not in danger. Well, he’s a little tired, but when isn’t he?

“If you’re sure,” she says doubtfully.

Eddie claps his hands together. “Well, I should go check on my store. Bye!” He waves at them and nearly walks into a wall on his way out.

“That was weird,” Steve says.

Robin shrugs. “He’ll get over it, especially once he remembers that you being a lying bastard has nothing to do with him.”

Steve scowls. “Hey, I’m not a lying bastard!”

“Sure you’re not,” she snorts. “You know, you could always try trusting us once in a while. We’ve got your back, Steve.”

Steve rinses his scooper and refuses to respond. Robin doesn’t get it, and neither does Eddie. It’s not about trust . It’s about keeping them from getting killed . 

Besides, there’s no way they’d ever believe him, not without some serious proof. Thankfully, very, very thankfully, there’s absolutely no shot of any Upside Down bullshit showing up. No monsters, no proof, no problem, right?

Jonathan wants to talk to her about something. Nancy can tell that sort of thing - even while he’s breaking all kinds of speed limits to get them to work on time, he’s gripping the clutch tightly and his mouth has formed a grim line. His eyes are bouncing around nervously, too, refusing to land on anything for long.

“Are you okay?” She asks, slightly concerned. The list of things he could want to say is both massive and incredibly anxiety-inducing. It could be anything from the Upside Down to the fact that his mom is looking to sell the house. 

“Yeah, yeah, I just… Okay, weird question: do I flirt with Steve?”

She doesn’t have to think about her response. “Yes.”

“Oh.” He turns his head to look at her before seemingly remembering he’s driving and faces the road again. “Really?”

“I mean, a little bit, yeah. I - I’m sorry, did you not know you were flirting with him?”

Jonathan’s mouth thins even more. “No, I didn’t. And why the hell do you not have a problem with that? Your current boyfriend is flirting with your ex: you don’t think that’s weird?”

“I…” She stares out the window contemplatively. “I thought you needed it. I’m really bad at empathy. Like, famously awful. And Steve, well, he’s good at that sort of thing, you know? So I thought maybe you flirted with Steve because he was giving you something that I can’t.”

He sighs. “Nancy, that’s just completely untrue. First of all, I love you, alright? I don’t need anybody else. Secondly, Steve is attractive , like, objectively, but I wouldn’t ever want to date him. He’s… I’m… I don’t know. I don’t think we fit that way. There’s no real reason for it.”

Nancy thinks she understands. She doesn’t fit that way with Steve either, for a lot of reasons. 

“I know.” 

People can be so unique. That’s what makes journalism interesting: everyone has a perspective. Everyone has a story to tell. 

Steve’s story is not one she likes to think about. He was hurt long before the Upside Down ever came into the picture. He’s sweet, really, but, well, he was a lot for her to handle. He needs people in a way that Nancy just… doesn’t. 

She refuses to believe that either of them is wrong for it. She’s not cruel because she’s independent, and he’s not pathetic for wanting some positive reinforcement. It’s just the way they are.

“Sorry, wait, why did you bring this up?” She asks. If Jonathan spent this whole time not noticing that he was flirting, then something must’ve happened to make him realize it.

“Oh. Um, I went to Scoops the other day to work on the photo exhibit, and… I thought I was just hanging out with Steve like I always do, but Eddie accused me of playing with his feelings.”

She never once thought that the flirting bothered Steve. If she had, she would’ve stopped the whole thing in its tracks a long, long time ago.

But if Nancy is good at anything, it’s making mistakes in regard to her ex-boyfriend. She hopes Steve hasn’t taken Jonathan’s flirting too seriously this whole time: the idea of it makes her feel awful .

“Maybe he’s right,” she says quietly.

“Maybe.”

They drive in silence until they reach the Hawkins Post. Jonathan stops the car and turns it off, but she catches his shoulder before he opens his door.

“What did you think about Eddie?” She asks.

“I don’t know, and we’re late. Can’t we talk about him later?”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Byers, shape up. This is important .”

“Fine. He’s… really intense. Stubborn, too. And I don’t know how it happened, but a month ago I was pretty sure he hated Steve’s guts and now they’re attached at the hip.”

Nancy nods. That sounds right to her. “Do you think he’d be good for Steve?” Jonathan has had more time around Eddie than she has.

“I have no idea. I think he’s interested , but Steve… he’s kind of a mystery right up until you actually get to know him. I don’t know if Eddie will stay interested. He seems like the kind of guy who drops stuff pretty quickly once he figures it out.”

He gets out of the car. Nancy follows him after a brief moment.

She lets it sit in the back of her mind while her coworkers act like a bunch of sexist pigs. She understands where Jonathan is coming from, but Eddie reminds her a lot of Mike and his little friends. They’re all such nerds: they get completely obsessed with things and refuse to ever move on. Mike’s probably seen Star Wars a hundred times and he still loves it just the same as he did the first time. He might love it more, actually.

With any luck, that’s the kind of person Eddie Munson is. Only time will tell.

Chapter Text

“Ok. He’s on break. Speed run debate: Pamela or Jason. Who’s the more terrifying antagonist?”

“God, seriously?” Robin rolled her eyes, annoyance more lighthearted than anything, though her expression turned a bit serious when she glanced to the breakroom. “Are you sure we should play this game again? It's fun and all but one of the victims is literally just Steve.”

“Which is why our voices will be kept down and our argument will be concise and generalized. Your side versus my side, which hill will you choose to die on.”

“Jason’s, obviously. He literally made that movie. Why is this a debate?”

“Because his mother is a more compelling antagonist? Someone being driven to insane acts of violence from a loved one's death is always going to be more compelling to me than ‘Oh wow a creepy mask’.” 

“I feel like being iconic hits a bit more, if she’s so terrifying why does everyone talk about her kid, huh?”

“Because people have no taste . She did all the work!”

“People have no taste in general. The movie’s shit.”

The two jump, for a moment thinking Steve finished his break early, and Nancy was about to manifest behind the counter with her own bloody machete, only to lay eyes on a curly haired kid. Despite the comment he’d made to get their attention, his smile was wide, posture polite.

“The door’s open. Pretty sure he can hear you.” His smile gets a bit wider, thinner. The two’s eyes go wide. “Usually if you say ‘this a bad idea’ before doing something, just don’t do it.” 

Silence, for a moment, before Dustin finally clears his throat and speaks again. 

“Hi! I’m Dustin.”

“Robin.” Her hand slams over Eddie’s mouth before he can say anything. “And this is Eddie. Sorry about the choice in conversation.” 

Dustin shrugs, then swings back and forth on his heels. “So…is he here?”

Robin keeps her hand firmly over Eddie’s mouth, despite the fact that he’s already tried licking it. “Is…who here?”

“ Henderson! ”

Eddie jolts, finally free of Robin’s grip, though he falls off the counter in the process. Steve races over to the kid, smile wide and honestly blinding, doing some silly trumpet motion to celebrate getting a job he fucking despises. And then! And then him and the kid do a goddamn handshake. A star wars themed, clearly practiced saber fight handshake.  

He’s laughing, they’re both laughing and smiling so fucking wide and Steve’s looking back and forth, gesturing to Dustin like he’s showing the kid off. He gasps, bounces on his toes a few times and runs back to the breakroom, and he somehow comes off as even more blindingly bright on his way back out , gift in hand and waving Dustin over to one of the tables and– 

God. He can’t breathe. 

“Eddie?” 

“What?” He’s answering as if he could actually process anything she was saying, as if the thoughts going through his head were more than just how do I make him smile like that again. Shit. She’d said something hadn’t she?

“Oi, back to earth Munson. Hello? Hellooooo…oh.” She follows his line of sight. An easy feat, considering he’s blatantly staring, then suddenly he’s being pulled into the backroom.

“Don’t you uh…” Words. Words. Words. “Work. You have to do that.”

“Are you alive in there?”

“Yep.” He sighs, hiding his head in his hands. “I am…still alive.”

Robin pulls up a chair and plops down next to him. Taps her fingers on his arm and waits until his mind’s fully rebooted so he can elaborate on the complete mental shutdown that had just occurred.

“I think I like him.”

“And for some reason the idea of tolerating someone who wears GAP is so foreign to you that your body physically rejected it?”

“Wh– no. I’m perfectly capable of liking him and enjoying his company and all that. Absolutely no problem in being friends with him but all… this …is a bit much.”

“This?”

“This! Whatever this is. It’s something, it’s awful, and it needs to stop.”

“You…liking him?”

“Oh this is so much worse than liking him. Liking him would mean– I don’t know–joking around with the guy, whatever it is we have going on now, or whatever I had going on back before Tommy tried to fucking murder me–”

“Wh– elaborate on that please.”

“I mean apparently the GAP clothes you think I’m allergic to really did it for me, because for some reason the only thoughts I had going on during junior year English were the various ways I’d slam his ass against a goddamn wall– ”

“Not what I meant and ew–” 

“But that’s casual! Impersonal! It’s not like I ever expected to talk to the guy, and then Tommy’s being a total asshole, so I have more than enough reason to hate his guts, and it’s so much easier to just hate Steve than it is to like him. But of course he had to be this genuinely great guy, like unfathomable levels of goodness that I can barely even process half the time–”

“The point Eddie, the point.”

“The point is that my stupid brain or heart or soul or what ever is in charge of my stupid feelings decided to stupidly fall in love with someone who’s so clearly obsessed with someone else!”