Work Text:
There were very few things that Steve ever kept from Oatie growing up.
He kept some of his struggles in school to himself. He didn't divulge much of his romantic interests other than he had been dating. He didn't share just how big and lonely his house felt when his parents left. He was pretty quiet about how he had gained the King Steve moniker around school - he wasn't exactly proud of that one and knew deep down at Oatie would be disappointed.
Steve considered those things to be more omissions of the truth and not so much lying or hiding. There were only three things that he worked to keep secret from Otis Harrington.
- Everything that had happened involving the Upside Down and Russians.
- The time his dad had actually hit him.
- His struggles with his own sexuality.
It was hard to explain away the way his face looked after Billy Hargrove had pummeled him in the Byers' living room. Harder still to figure out what to say after the horror show that he and Robin had gone through at Starcourt. Oatie was skeptical at best when Steve had tried to fabricate some story about what happened to his abdomen and neck after the last events in the Upside Down.
He wasn't a very good liar, but Oatie always assumed that if Steve didn't want to tell him exactly what happened - and he was still okay - he would let it slide.
Sometimes, when in a particularly bad self worth spiral, Steve wished he could say the same about his father. He could remember when he was seventeen, he had told his dad that he didn't get into college and the utter look of disgust that had settled on his face. He was berated, called a loser and a failure, he received a hard backhanded smack to his jaw that made it feel like his brain had smashed against his skull. That was the last time he ever told his father anything.
He promised himself that he'd never tell Oatie. Not because it made him feel weak, Oatie never made him feel that way, but because he knew that if he did Otis Harrington would go to jail.
Steve tried very hard to keep Oatie's opinion of him in good standing. He had long since given up even trying to gain any sort of positive response from his parents but the thought of disappointing, hurting, or letting Oatie down was essentially a fate worse than death. There was something about the look on Oatie's eye whenever Steve tried to cover something up that didn't sit well in the young man's stomach.
All Steve wanted was for someone to be proud of him.
He wanted Oatie to be proud of him.
"Everything alright, my boy?"
Oatie's voice cut through the fog in Steve's brain. His head jerked up and he tore his eyes away from the figurative hole that they were burning in the middle of the plate that had been set in front of him. Otis was standing at the counter, leaning back against it, as he held his own plate in front of him. He rarely liked to sit and eat, preferring to stand. Years ago, he had told Steve it was an old habit from his army days that refused to roll over and die. He was watching Steve with his eyebrows raised in concern.
"You look like that meatloaf personally offended you," he teased, grinning at his grandson.
Steve forced a small chuckle and shook his head, "Sorry, Oatie, just have a lot on my mind."
He had come over for dinner at Oatie's house with a plan. He was going to sit his grandpa down and just tell him. Tell him about not being straight, about liking guys, about dating a guy. About Eddie. But for some reason he couldn't even bring himself to look at Oatie for too long. There was a fear in him that was so unfamiliar in this house. Steve had always been afraid of his own dad, but never of Oatie.
"Can… Can you come sit down, Oatie? I really need to talk to you," Steve finally managed to say.
Sensing the tension in Steve's voice, Otis only nodded. He stood upright and set his dinner plate down on the counter. He grabbed a dish towel off of the handle of the oven and wiped his hands as he walked over to the small kitchenette table where Steve was sitting. Otis pulled out a chair and slowly lowered himself in the seat opposite of Steve, dropping the towel on the table top.
His hands settled heavily in his lap and he looked back at Steve with raised brows. He didn't speak. He didn't want to interrupt whatever train of thought that Steve was conducting at the moment. He just gave a patient smile, letting his grandson know he was there and ready.
"Right, um," every word Steve had previously prepared instantaneously evaporated from his mind. He cleared his throat once, then once more, as he leaned back in his chair. His heart was running wild in his chest and his hands felt shaky so he crossed his arms to try and hide that fact from Oatie.
"I… I'm just gonna talk and I'm gonna need you to wait until I'm done before you say anything, okay?"
Otis momentarily looked a little surprised but quickly reined in his expression, "Alright, go ahead."
Steve swallowed hard around the nervous lump that had mysteriously formed in his throat, "I… For a while now, I've known that I'm not… I mean." Steve sighed loudly and looked back down at the table. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried again to sort out his thoughts. He could do this. This was Oatie, the man who raised him and loved him no matter what. Oatie had told him many times growing up that nothing was going to get in the way of him loving Steve.
"I feel the same way about guys as I do about girls," he admitted softly, looking up at his grandfather, "I've known it for a while and I didn't say anything to anyone because, well, we live in the middle of nowhere Indiana. And I know that dad would… Dad wouldn't take that well. But I have friends who know now and accept me and… I have a boyfriend, who I care about. A lot."
There was a pregnant pause as Otis waited to make sure that Steve was done. "Okay," he finally said with a nod of his head.
"Okay?" Steve asked, almost incredulous.
Otis gave him a small smile and shrugged his shoulders, "What? Do you want me to be mad? Yell at you? You're my boy, Steve. As long as you're safe and taken care of, what does it matter to me if you're seeing a boy?"
Steve's eyes almost instantly filled with tears as his shoulders relaxed.
"This boyfriend, though, does he treat you good?"
Steve let out a watery laugh and nodded his head, "Yeah, Oatie. He's really great."
Absently, one of Steve's hands found its way up to his neck. His fingers tugged gently at the silver chain that hung there, pulling it around until the red guitar pick dangling from it was grasped between his fingers. It had become a sort of self soothing technique for Steve after Eddie clasped the necklace on him one night while they sat in the back of Eddie's van. It was comforting and safe, just like Eddie.
"You gonna tell me about him or sit there all goo-goo eyed?" Otis asked with a laugh. He got to his feet and walked over to retrieve his plate before returning to the table.
Steve felt a blush rise up into his cheeks at the playful jibe but rolled his eyes. He picked up his fork and jabbed at his mashed potatoes, taking some small bite as he looked over at his grandpa. He felt lighter than he had in a while.
"His name is Eddie and he's… a total dork, Oatie," Steve laughed, shaking his head, "He plays that stupid dungeons and dragons game, reads The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings religously, and he's so hyper and all over the place. He plays guitar and sings in a metal band. I don't get half of the music he listens to or movies he watches but, I don't know, he makes me laugh."
Otis ate while Steve talked. He couldn't fight off the smile spreading across his face, though. It had been a long time since he had seen Steve so at ease and comfortable. It was so refreshing to see a carefree smile on Steve's face for once. The boy deserved to be happy, especially given how horribly his parents had treated him growing up.
Otis placed his fork down and used the dish towel on the table to dab at his mouth, "He sounds really great, my boy. I hope you bring him around some time.
That was weeks ago.
Since then Steve had introduced Eddie to his Grandfather, as well as both Robin and Dustin. Both Steve and Eddie had made it a point since then for both of them to go visit when they had the time. It was bizarre to see Eddie in his grandpa's house, which in all honesty was essentially his childhood home. He had stood in the living room and watched as Oatie showed Eddie picture after picture of young Steve, only rolling his eyes when Eddie would look back over at him with shining eyes and a mouth open in affectionate laughter. Steve saw Eddie finding the scratched marks in the doorway to the kitchen chronically Steve's vertical growth over the years; the last etch was begrudgingly done when Steve was eighteen despite complaining the whole time that he was too old for this.
And that Oatie wouldn't count his hair.
"I'm still taller," Eddie whispered as he pressed shoulder to shoulder with Steve.
Steve could only scoff, "You wish."
It warmed Steve's heart to see the two more important men in his life not only interacting but actually getting along. Eddie listened to all of Oatie's stories with bated breath and told his own, though most assuredly censored, stories to the same rapt attention. What was the most strange thing however, was Steve pulling into Oatie's driveway to see Eddie's van already parked there.
Steve's brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled the key from his ignition and got out of the car. He made his way up the front path and opened the front door, opening it quickly to get out of the chilly late autumn air.
"Oatie? Eddie?" He called into the house.
There was no response, but he could hear music playing somewhere. Steve followed the sound, recognizing the song as one of the old country songs Oatie would listen to all the time while Steve was growing up. The sound got louder as he approached the door leading to the garage. As Steve opened the door he registered that there were two very different voices singing along to the song playing.
"But I ain't askin' nobody for nothin' if I can't get it on my own. If you don't like the way I'm livin', you just leave this long haired country boy alone."
Steve was all but frozen as he took in the scene in front of him. The hood of Oatie's old truck was popped open and both Eddie and Oatie were leaning in fiddling with something. The music was coming from the old tape deck on a workbench along the far wall, and had changed over to a different song. Steve vaguely registered it as a Willie Nelson song.
"Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold," Eddie sang softly and he stood upright. His hands were covered in grease and oil. He set the wrench that he was holding down on a towel draped over the side of the truck. His long hair had been pulled back into a loose bun at the back of his head.
The sight would have really done something for Steve if Oatie hadn't glanced up and spotted him in the doorway.
"Steve, my boy!" He greeted, standing up and smiling.
Otis turned and walked over to the tape deck to turn the volume down a little. Eddie looked over at Steve with a nearly sinful grin, knowing full well what his appearance had to be doing to his boyfriend. "Hiya, Stevie," he laughed as he grabbed a rag. Eddie started to wipe at his hands as Oatie appeared by his side with a beer bottle extended for him.
"Thanks, Otis," Eddie nodded before taking a sip.
Steve finally regained his composure, "What the hell is happening?"
"Last week Eddie said he'd come help me with this damn engine. You remember, don't ya, Steve?" Oatie explained as he took a drink from his own beer.
"Turns out he needed a part and I ordered it to the shop. I was off today so I came down to help put it in," Eddie shrugged.
Steve walked further into the garage and shook his head slightly from side to side as he approached Eddie. "I was more confused about you singing along to Charlie Daniels and Willie Nelson," Steve said with a grin. He leaned his hip against the side of the truck and crossed his arms over his chest.
"One does not get raised by Wayne Munson without becoming an appreciator of country music, Stevie," Eddie said with an eye roll, "Besides, Otis has great taste. Now we just gotta get him to the Hideout for a Corroded Coffin show."
Steve snorted back a laugh, which apparently greatly offended Oatie. He put his bottle down on the bench and started to make his way over to the door. "I can be cool, Steven. I'm bad to the bone," he grumbled.
"Oatie, no," Steve laughed, slapping a hand to his own forehead.
Eddie let out a 'whoop' and raised his arms in the air, "Oatie, yes!"
Otis let out a laugh and shook his head, pausing when he reached the door. "I'm going to go wash up and fix some lunch. You boys stayin' to eat?" He asked, turning to look at Steve and Eddie. The pair of them exchanged a silent glance before Steve turned back to his grandpa.
"Yeah, Oatie, that'll be great."
Otis nodded and slapped his hand once against the frame of the door on his way inside. As the door closed behind him, the music on the tape deck changed to a song he didn't recognize but apparently Eddie did. He smirked and set his drink down before he walked closer to Steve. The words were lost to Steve as he watched as Eddie slid an arm around his waist and he took Steve's hand in his own with the other.
Eddie nudged Steve and the two of them started to sway softly which made Steve roll his eyes fondly as a slight blush filled his face. Eddie brought their heads together so that his lips were close to Steve's ear. He sang along to the song softly.
"It must be love, it must be love. I fall like a sparrow, fly like a dove. You must be the dream I've been dreamin' of. Oh, what a feelin' it must be love."
Steve felt his whole body relax and had Eddie not been holding him so closely he was sure his knees would have buckled with how hard he swooned. Eddie must have noticed, there's no way he couldn't, because he gripped Steve's waist tighter and turned head enough to press a kiss against Steve's cheek.
If someone had told ten year old Steve that one day this would be his life, he would have laughed in their face. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what he did to deserve not only someone like Oatie who took care of him no matter what, but to also find Eddie. He felt his eyes water slightly and he pulled his head back just enough to look back at Eddie who took in Steve's watery eyes with a fair bit of concern.
"Everything okay, pretty boy?"
Steve nodded his head, "Everything's perfect."