Archive of Our Own ^beta

53 Days Until Christmas

Okay, here’s the thing. Steve isn’t an idiot. He’s just surrounded by god damn geniuses all the fucking time. He was also a popular guy for nearly his entire high school career. He might not know how to build a giant antenna or be able to break a secret Russian code by sheer spite and will power, but he knew people. How they tick. The ways a human body gives subtle cues on how they’re feeling - body language, he’d learned was the proper name for it.

It’s like, scientific or whatever.

He spent years of his life - his whole life, maybe, if you counted the awareness he had to have of his parents’ ever changing moods - observing, cataloguing, and then utilizing that information to best serve himself. Part of the Harrington Charm was being able to read a person in a moment, and knowing instinctually how to get on their good side. (This was all born out of anxiety, morphed into smug confidence by the grim juxtaposition of both an empty home and a packed lunch table with overeager ‘friends’ that happened to quite like your empty home despite your silent feelings on the matter.)

So. He knew people. Knew emotions, and how they translated into movement - into the body. He knew barely concealed anger. Anxiety. Fear. Giddiness. Attraction.

Eddie Munson had a crush on Steve Harrington, and Steve knew.

Not immediately - he’s not sure it happened immediately - but it’s there now. The lingering glances. Hair twirling around fingers. Small smiles curling into something with meaning when he’s there. Hugs that last a second too long to be platonic.

Eddie Munson had a crush on Steve Harrington.

As luck would have it, Steve had a crush on Eddie, too.

But here’s the thing.

“Robin, I think I’m broken,” Steve groans loudly, and runs his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Am I broken? I have to be! Nothing is working. Nothing!”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” She dips her nail polish brush back in the bottle before carefully finishing her pinkie finger. She makes a satisfied noise as she inspects her work. She’d gone with a deep, rusty orange to be festive.

Steve had suggested that she painted little turkeys, but she’d claimed she “wasn’t a god damned miracle worker, Steve” so just orange it was.

“I have tried. Everything. Nothing works. Not the - the looks! The smiles. The hair thing. I do the hair thing, and nothing! It’s like it’s - it’s not even on his radar.” Steve huffs loudly and flops back onto his bed to stare up at his ceiling balefully. “Is it that impossible to believe that I’m flirting with him? That I like him, too?”

“Well,” Robin begins slowly, and he hears her begin to blow on her nails to dry them between words, “to be fair to him, you are Steve ‘The Hair, Probably The Straightest Guy In Hawkins’ Harrington.”

“You and I both know that’s not true! We watched Top Gun together!” Steve exclaims, and throws his hands up in the air only for them to smack back down onto the bed beside him.

“Yeah, you and I did. Alone. But Eddie has no idea - “

“I did the eye thing, Robin. How would he have no idea. The eye thing - “

“ - he has no concrete idea that you like guys. So you should just tell him.”

“I would rather fight twenty demobats.” Steve pauses, and reconsiders. “A hundred demobats. What am I supposed to do? Just walk up to him and say ‘hey! By the way, I like men. Anyway, how’s the weather?’ That’s like basically telling him I like him without telling him I like him.”

“Then just tell him you like him?” Robin asks with a huff. He can tell her patience is thinning but he’s having a fucking crisis. She smacks at his leg until he sits up, and slides down to join her on the floor. She grabs his right hand, sets it on her knee, and begins to paint his pinky, too.

“If he doesn’t even realize I’m flirting with him then I just like - I don’t want to freak him out all at once! That’s the point of flirting, Rob. It’s like, testing the waters.”

“I thought you were sooo certain that he liked you?” Robin asks, but then stops herself. “Well. I mean, I can tell that from a mile away. But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but it’s like. Good fucking manners! And I - “ Steve stops himself, face warm as he looks away from Robin; suddenly flustered about the words he was going to say next. He says it quieter, as if it would help him be less embarrassed, “I wanna do it right, that’s all.”

Robin is quiet for so long that he chances a glance back over at her. She’s smiling at him softly, looking both endeared and bemused. “God, you’re such a Romeo. It’s really sweet. Gross.”

“Shut up,” Steve grumbles as she goes back to painting his ring finger. “I just - I dunno. He’s mentioned before about like, guys that have hit on him before and they’ve never been… he just deserves to be treated well. And I wanna be that. For him.”

Steve’s face is properly aflame now, especially as Robin loudly coos, “Oooh, Steve’s in loooove!”

“ARGH, SHUT UP!”

“Don’t move you messed me up!”

49 DAYS

Steve was a lot of things. Monster killer. Begrudging babysitter (best in Hawkins. Begrudgingly. But still the best.) and chauffeur to a gaggle of teens. Tired Family Video employee. Honorary Byers (Will had made him a card and everything after Joyce had all but threatened Steve to spend Thanksgiving this year with them. He was looking forward to it, and the card was put up on his fridge with a magnet).

He was, amongst all this, a romantic at heart. He was going to woo Eddie Munson, and he was going to do it right.

He was also, he’s decided, going to do it by Christmas.

It’s a quiet want, for Steve. It’s not one of the loud ones he has - the ones that flow into his interactions with others; the ones that escape him in tiny but noticeable ways (family. Belonging. In whatever way that could be.). It’s a tiny little thing at the back of his mind. Someone to celebrate the holidays with. He wants snow, a lit fireplace, a shitty Christmas tree with shitty handmade ornaments, and someone he loves and who loves him back curled up on the couch with blankets and so much hot coco their stomachs hurt.

It’s a simple, quiet want but it’s a want that he thinks that maybe he could have with Eddie. Knows that want would morph and grow into something perfect with Eddie. He wants to be with Eddie, in whatever way that looks like. There doesn’t have to be hot coco or fireplaces or little wrapped gifts. He just wants Eddie.

A simple want.

A monumental task, however. Or that’s what it felt like.

So. Christmas.

He could ask Eddie out by Christmas. That was totally doable. Steve stares at the calendar on the wall at work. Does the math. Loses his place and has to count again.

49 days.

He could woo Eddie Munson in 49 days. Easy.

41 DAYS

49 days his ass. Steve was going to lose his mind. Really, actually.

It’s like, something about giving himself a tangible deadline made his brain suddenly short circuit.

“It’s like, every time I so much as glance at him, my brain suddenly turns off,” Steve whines. “It’s like my brain is psyching itself out before I can even do anything!”

“Just go back to the basics.” Steve stares at Robin, wide eyed, as she very flippantly responds to him. She doesn’t seem to notice as she shuffles around her armful of VHSes. “If it’s freaking you out so much, doesn’t it make sense to just fall back on stuff you know?”

“Shit,” Steve says, because she’s right. “Okay. Shit. Okay, yeah. I can do that.”

Robin snorts. “You sure? You don’t sound very confident, Casanova.”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! The basics. 41 days. I can do that.”

Robin stops, and frowns at him. “41 days?”

Steve pales, and then blushes, and then spins around to hurry toward the back room. “I think I heard Keith calling me - “

“He did not! Steve! What the hell does 41 days mean?”

Steve does an excellent job of dodging her for the rest of the day.

40 DAYS

Steve stares down at the note he’d written in near chicken scratch. It stares back at him, unfeeling for his plight.

The basics. They were something Steve had done tons of times.

It was easy! Ten simple, easy steps. He could do that. He’d done the first step already, actually. Steve isn’t sure if it’s obvious to others (Robin notwithstanding) that Eddie likes him, but it’s obvious to Steve. So he’d already gauged the interest.

And when you’re saving the world from evil or whatever, you got to know each other pretty fast.

Steve squints at the list.

Actually…

“Ah, shit,” Steve says as he realizes - he’s nearly done with the god damned list.

So. He had - technically - four items left.

Steve takes a moment to really be surprised that he’d apparently been pseudo-wooing Eddie this entire time without realizing it. He was already half way down the damn list.

Going over the last of the list again, he began to try to make a game plan.

Steve stares down at his (frankly) mess of a list.

“Shit,” he mutters again, but it does feel a bit better to at least have it tangible in front of him. A sort of plan. Yeah! Sort of. He did some of his best work when he had only kind of a plan.

It would be fine!

Probably.

Maybe.

“40 days. I’ve got this. It’s no big deal. It’s just Eddie.”

37 DAYS

The problem with it being just Eddie is that Eddie happens to be Eddie Munson, who also happens to apparently be Steve’s god damned Achille’s Heel.

His solution of just do it, I guess? to item number 7 on his very professional, and very scientific 10 Simple Steps To Woo Anyone may very well be his downfall.

He cursed his own wording every time he thought about it. What the hell did more intimate touch mean anyway?

Well. He knew what it meant. But how the fuck was he going to initiate it without being weird? He didn’t want to freak Eddie out. He couldn’t just plaster himself to Eddie’s side with no explanation when they’ve been close, sure, but not that close.

Eddie ends up doing it for him.

Steve doesn’t know whether to curse or thank the universe for the enigma that continues to be Eddie Munson, but it’s like a flip has switched and Eddie is all over him all the time.

Steve definitely isn’t complaining, but how the hell is he supposed to woo the guy if he’s doing all the hard work for Steve?

It’s been three days, and Steve has seen Eddie every day since he nailed down his list (this is normal) and, three for three, Eddie has swept Steve up into a giant hug (also normal) and not let go for at least seven seconds (not normal). Then, inevitably, Eddie will eventually sidle up beside him and press his shoulder into his and stay there. Hip to hip, arm to arm, and just exist. It’s… really fucking nice, actually. The constant pressure is comforting even if sometimes Eddie’s hair tickles his arm.

And don’t even get Steve started on the hands everywhere. His back, his shoulder, his arm, his knee, it’s like Eddie has suddenly decided to make a game of How Many Times Can I Touch Steve Harrington Until He Loses His Mind (the number is shockingly low).

Today, the hug had been lingering and firm, and Eddie’s hands had trailed down his arms as he pulled away. Steve didn’t even get a chance to have a mini crisis about how that had felt before he was getting pulled away by an over excited Dustin.

Everyone (and Steve meant everyone. Hopper and Joyce had been able to join for once, too) managed to pile in nearly all the cars they had available to them to have a trip to the arcade, and the kids were ecstatic. Steve was quietly thinking about it as some sort of pre-holiday family party, so he was in a particularly good mood that day. The way Eddie’s fingers felt ghosting across his wrists definitely helped, too.

Right. Okay. If Eddie can suddenly do it, then so can Steve, god dammit.

But in the meantime, he was going to beat Dustin’s ass at Galaga.

Two hours later, and Steve was trying his best to calmly walk toward his car while it felt like his head was going to split open.

He should have realized that all the sounds and lights from the arcade would trigger a migraine, but he’d foolishly hoped that for once he’d be able to enjoy time with his family without having to deal with the after math of before.

Thankfully, Robin made him keep migraine medicine everywhere, so Steve easily found the bottle in his glove compartment.

It was nearly subconscious effort at this point to take the damn things, too. So much so that sometimes he had to stare down at the bottle after he’d taken it and really think on if he’d just taken it or not. Today was thankfully not one of those days, and he was putting the bottle back in his glove compartment in moments. Steve lays his head back on the seat, closes his eyes, and sighs long and slow.

The migraine would take a while to calm down, so unless it miraculously decided to show mercy, he would be stuck in the car the entire afternoon.

God dammit.

The kids had been looking forward to it for weeks. Steve had been looking forward to it, too. Just a normal, happy day with the people he actually cared about. And his stupid, weak body couldn’t even handle it.

There’s a careful, soft knock on his window. Steve opens his eyes, and is surprised to find them wet with tears threatening to fall. Steve immediately feels childish for it - there was no reason to cry.

He takes a moment to blink them back before he turns to look at whomever had knocked.

Eddie stares back at him with an unsure, but warm smile. Steve rolls down the window and immediately squints at the sunlight filtering in with a vendetta.

“Ah - wait. I’ll hop in,” Eddie says the moment he realizes Steve’s discomfort.

Steve nods, and rolls the window back up as Eddie rounds the car. He has to close his eyes against the light again, so he hears more than sees Eddie carefully get in to the passenger side and softly close the door.

There’s quiet rustling from Eddie. “Took your medicine already?” Eddie asks. Steve nods even though he’s not sure Eddie can see him. He must, because Eddie doesn’t press again. “Where the hell did you put - ah! Here.”

Hands, warm and steady, find Steve’s. Steve cracks his eyes open just barely to see Eddie unfurling his fingers to press a familiar pair of sunglasses into his hands. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Steve mutters, grateful as he puts them on. The relief is immediate, and he feels himself relax more. “Thanks.”

“It can be hard to think when your brain’s screaming at you.” Eddie says this confidently, as if he has first hand experience. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did. At Steve’s soft smile, he hears Eddie shuffle around in his seat. “You okay? I mean, aside from the obvious problem.”

Steve sighs long and slow. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… frustrated, I guess. Today was supposed to be fun.”

Eddie makes a sympathetic noise. “Yeah, I hear ya. Nothing worse than your own body ruining things for you.” Everyone from the party had aches and pains from old wounds, but no one knew as well as Max and Eddie did. “You know, don’t tell them I told you this - “ Eddie pauses, and Steve opens his eyes again to glance over at him. He’s leaning over the arm rest, hand cupped around his mouth like he’s about to tell Steve some big secret. His voice is soft as he whispers, “The kids are having a competition on who can win you the biggest prize.”

Steve chuckles, and shakes his head carefully. “They’ll make anything into a competition.”

“True,” Eddie hums as he leans back again, and curls himself up in the seat like a weird, spike covered pretzel. “But I think they care more about you having to sit out here while everyone’s in there.”

The thought both warms Steve, and makes him feel more frustrated with his situation. They shouldn’t have to worry about him. “That why you’re here? On babysitting duty?”

“Nah, man. You’re right, I’m a shitty babysitter. But I’m pretty confident in being a damn good friend when I need to be. And, if I may be so bold, sire,” Eddie says this with a dramatic lilt to his voice that makes Steve chuckle quietly. “I think you need a friend right now, but you don’t wanna ruin anyone’s fun - which totally wouldn’t happen, but I know how that brain works.”

“Do you, now?” Steve teases.

Eddie smiles at him, warm but serious. “Yeah, man. I do.” And he was right, so Steve couldn’t argue. "I know I don't have any hope in beating those kids - I mean, seriously, they're little demons when it comes to those games. Might as well hang out here where the cool kids are."

Steve snorts. "I don't think I was ever cool, Eds."

Eddie's smile turns wide, and he bites his bottom lip as if to try and stop it. "If Sophomore year me could hear you right now, man."

"Ugh." Steve scoffs, but he's smiling at the thought. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Munson."

Eddie chuckles, but is quiet for a long moment before he speaks again. "Do you remember Mrs. Ferguson's English class in middle school?"

Steve blinks, and then frowns as he dredges up the dusty memories. Middle school wasn't something he thought about often. It was relatively uneventful - after his parents became sparse around the house so much that he had to learn how to operate the oven by himself, but before he broke in to the "popular" scene in Freshman year. It left him with an empty house, and an even emptier friend group. It had been a rough period for him, so he didn't dwell on it much.

Eddie waits for him patiently, as he always does, and elaborates after a minute, "Your bookbag was red, and so were your shoes. I thought it was the epitome of fashion."

And, suddenly, he remembers - Eddie Munson, before the names hurled at him and the chains and the curls. He was quieter, then, and with a buzzcut but Steve couldn't forget those eyes if he tried. Steve finds himself smiling wide, now, too. "You wore all these leather bracelets." They'd been leather strips all woven together, very obviously by hand. Steve didn't say that he remembered because Eddie had a habit of chewing on the cords, and he'd get distracted by it every time.

"Yeah," Eddie laughs. "Wore those out until they all snapped. I dunno if you remember this, but I had this one day where I was just - super out of it. I was like, seconds from a meltdown the entire day. My old man had shown up out of nowhere that morning threatening to take me away from Uncle Wayne - just saying all this vile shit. I don't know how the hell I made it to Mrs. Ferguson's class, but I swear you took one look at me and just knew something was up."

The memory unfurls like a flower as Eddie speaks. He remembers it well, suddenly - the red rimmed, far away look in Eddie's eyes. The almost unnatural stillness to him, the slump in his shoulders. "Reminded me of my mom," Steve mumbles, nearly half to himself. "When my dad got - bad. She would just fade away, almost. Look at nothing. Barely heard a thing." He remembers the uncomfortable twinge in his chest at the sight; the memories flooding back to him, unbidden. Wine glasses being thrown. Chairs tossed and doors slammed.

The look Eddie gives him is sad, and empathetic. "You just - looked at me. I remember locking eyes with you, but I didn't really see. And you didn't even say anything - you just turned around and said something to Mrs. Ferguson. Next thing I know, you're grabbing my bookbag and pulling me out of the classroom. I don't even think I said anything the whole time, but you took me to the nurse and she let me nap there all day." Eddie begins to tug on some loose thread from the holes in the knees of his jeans, and glances back up at Steve through his bangs. "I never said thank you. Wasn't really myself again til a few days after. But that - I think you've been pretty damn cool for a while now, Harrington."

Steve feels inextricably flustered by this, and he waves his words off quickly. "Nah, man. Just doing what anyone would do."

Eddie looks back up at him, this time with a raised eyebrow. "You and I know that isn't true." It's unspoken that there is a, You of all people would know, after that.

Steve sighs. "Is this your way of trying to make me say I'm a good person? Robin does this shit all the time, I swear it's psychological warfare."

Eddie barks out a laugh, and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth with a grimace. "Sorry," he whispers, and even though the sound had hurt Steve's head, he can't find it in himself to be upset about it. Any time he could make Eddie laugh was a good one.

"Don't apologize," Steve says, but it comes out more soft than he'd liked it to - too gentle. Eddie lowers his hand, and has a careful; assessing gaze. Steve, face warming and desperate to get the attention off of himself, continues, "I'm fine. So, are you gonna shave your head again?"

Eddie's face twists immediately in disdain, and this time it's Steve laughing. "How dare you even suggest such sacrilege. I'm sorry my glorious mane is threatening to you, The Hair," he drawls out the name long and slow and Steve rolls his eyes at the dramatics. "but I think the fuck not."

"As if. Your 3-in-1 shampoo could never - "

Eddie gasps, loud and fake, and reaches a hand over. Steve makes a bad attempt at swatting his hands away and fails. Eddie's fingernails scratch against Steve's temples before his fingers are running through Steve's hair, and Steve's brain just stops. Steve stares, migraine now completely out of his mind, as Eddie curls his fingers and grips a handful of his hair firm enough for Steve to feel, but soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. "You take that back, fiend," Eddie says through laughter. "Or I'll ruin this perfect coif of yours."

Steve swears he feels his brain have to stutter back into motion before he can stammer, "Wh - never, Munson," and he's grinning, too, but through a pounding heart. "You don't scare me."

Eddie squints at him, and they have a silent staring contest before Eddie takes his other hand, and carefully ruffles Steve's hair so badly that Steve has to spit out strands of his own hair out of his face.

"Fuck - Eddie, oh my god!" Steve laughs, and this time successfully swats and disentangles himself from him. Steve huffs, and has to use both hands to shove his hair back. He glowers at Eddie, but he's not sure he can even see through his sunglasses. "Ass. That's sabotage."

"Nonsense. That's called evening out the playing field, Stevie," Eddie sing songs.

"Bullshit, dude. You just - " Steve shakes his head in just the wrong way, and there's sun bursts exploding behind his eyes. He grunts at the sudden pain, and has to lay his head back against the headrest again.

"You okay, Steve?" Eddie asks softly, all mirth gone.

Steve nods minutely. "Yeah," he mutters; eyes squeezed shut against it. "Just - moved my head too fast. Sorry. It'll pass."

They're quiet for a while before Steve feels a bit more steady, and can open his eyes again. He blinks against the light, and turns his head to look at Eddie, who was still silent. He finds Eddie already watching him with a soft, sad expression. Eddie meets his gaze easily, and then huffs out a small laugh. "You got hair all in your face, man," he says, and reaches forward again. This time, his fingers brush gently against Steve's skin as he brushes the hair out of his face.

Steve manages, "I wonder how that happened," through his internal meltdown at the sensation.

The oldest trick in the god damn book, and it's working on me like a god damn charm, he thinks helplessly.

Eddie laughs again, soft.

Hours later, a large stuffed rabbit is deposited into Steve’s arms by a beaming El.

Despite the pain, it turns out to be a good day.

34 DAYS

“Steve! I’m here, wake up!” Is all the warning he gets before Dustin is bursting into his bedroom.

Steve groans loudly, and curls deeper under his covers. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” he whines, and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s too early.” He laments his idea to give Dustin a spare key months ago. It’s been abused far more times than it’s been used responsibly.

“It’s not early. It’s 11:15 am. If you wouldn’t stay up all night drinking with Eddie, then you wouldn’t be hungover the next day,” Dustin says haughtily as he begins to trapeze around Steve’s room. Steve can hear him stumbling around and rustling through things as his voice moves around the room.

“How the hell do you know I was hanging out with Eddie last night?” Steve asks, and is confused enough to open his eyes and stare at the blanket covering his head in confusion.

“Max saw you leaving Eddie’s place this morning, and told me,” Dustin says, like this is totally fine.

“Why the hell is she spying on me for you?” Steve asks, and finally pulls back the cover and sits up to glower at Dustin.

Dustin is rummaging around the piles of books and papers on Steve’s desk, completely unfazed by Steve’s ire. “She wasn’t spying. She just keeps me up to date. That’s all.”

“Huh? What the hell would you need to be kept up to date with, Henderson? You don’t need to know where I am all the time.”

Dustin shrugs. “You didn’t answer your phone last night.”

Steve immediately feels like an asshole. Dustin had made strides in becoming comfortable again with leaving Steve and Eddie’s sides for more than a few seconds since they almost lost Eddie. But of course he’d be anxious, still.

“Shit. Yeah, sorry man. But - it’s fine. Anyway. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well,” Dustin drawls the word out as he continues to poke and prod about Steve’s desk. He holds up a spiral notebook, and flips through it casually. “My mom is doing her deep cleaning before Thanksgiving and it’s fucking dog eat dog there so I figured I’d come hide out here until the dust settled.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping her?”

Dustin snorts. “No way. I just make more of a mess. I’ve been banned from helping since, like, 1982. One time I - “ Dustin suddenly stops on a page, and stares. And stares some more. Steve squints at his slightly blurry form and reaches over to put his glasses on to see what kind of face he could even be making. He just puts them on when Dustin spins around, grin wide, and absolutely screeches, “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

“Ow, Jesus, dude! What the fuck?” Steve exclaims, but suddenly he’s got Dustin in his face as he throws himself onto the bed to shove the notebook in Steve’s face.

“You totally like Robin! You’re trying to woo her, dude! Oh my god, this is hilarious - “

“What the fuck are you talking about - “ and then he sees it. The stupid fucking 10 Ways list he’d scribbled down out of desperation. God dammit. “Dustin! Give me that back, you little punk!”

Steve makes a swipe for the book, but he’s too sleepy and Dustin is too keyed up. Dustin bounces back out of range and jumps off the bed. “You made a fucking list, dude! I fucking knew you liked Robin. You’re finally manning up, huh? What the fuck even are these items? Do you think Robin would actually -“

“Dustin, oh my god, it’s not for Robin - “

“ - go for this? I mean, props to the attempt, I guess. But you’ll have to do way better than this, dude. Robin would want, like - “

“It’s not for Robin!”

Dustin levels him with an unimpressed stare. “Uh huh. Sure. Who else would it be?” Steve hesitates, which is a fatal mistake. It only gives Dustin more fuel for the fire. He begins with a new level of fervor. “So anyway, I think you already do all of this shit, so the list is basically useless. We need to make a new one that she would actually like. Like… like, shit. I don’t know. What the hell would Robin even like?”

“Oh my god, it’s not for Robin! It’s for Eddie!”

The room is silent. Dustin and Steve stare at each other, both in shock but for vastly different reasons.

Steve wonders, vaguely, if maybe he could simply lock himself in this room and never come out ever again. Maybe throw himself out the window and go live in the woods for eternity.

And then Dustin is laughing.

And he’s laughing hard.

“Wh - hey! What the fuck are you laughing at?” Steve exclaims, offended though he’s not sure why, as Dustin doubles over while absolutely cackling.

Multiple times he tries to speak, but it only causes Dustin to laugh harder. Soon, he’s curled on the floor in a ball; laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes. Steve throws a pillow at him in retaliation; face red. The pillow bounces harmlessly off of Dustin’s back, but it does get him to try and swallow down some of his laughter.

“Shut the fuck up!” Steve hisses.

“It hurts!” Dustin guffaws; hands shaking as he wipes at his eyes. “It hurts, oh god!”

“Good! Suffer!” Steve retorts petulantly.

It takes Dustin several long minutes to calm himself down, and by the time he’s only down to a few lingering giggles he’s migrated back up to sit on the bed with Steve. “Oh, man. That was amazing. I just - Eddie?”

Suddenly, Steve sits up straighter and says, “Yeah? Got a problem?” out of sheer instinct. He wouldn’t expect Dustin to ever have a real problem with it, but he also wasn’t one to put up with the little shit’s attitude problem he could sometimes have if it was pointed to other people.

“No, it’s just - Will was so adamant about it and Mike didn’t believe him at all and all I can think is that Mike is gonna owe Will like - five whole bucks.”

Steve’s shoulders relax, and then immediately tense right back up. “Will knows??”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Dude, like everyone knows.”

“Fuck,” Steve says, with feeling.

Dustin sits up, puts his hand on Steve shoulder, and very seriously says, “Don’t worry, dude. I’ll handle this.”

The sentence strikes the fear of god into Steve. “Wh - no! Absolutely not. Don’t you fucking dare, dude. I swear to god.”

“It’s fine! I’ll make sure you,” Dustin pauses to glance back down at the notebook; grin wide and devious, “woo Eddie in 10 simple steps.”

“I’m gonna throw you out of my god damned window, give me that notebook back!” Steve makes a lunge, but Dustin dodges out of the way easily.

Steve falls on the ground, and Dustin laughs so hard he actually does cry.

32 DAYS

Thanksgiving with the Byers had been lovely. He'd gone over earlier in the day for lunch with them, and it had been - amazing. Everything his parents had never given him. Loud, and happy, and warm. Joyce had tried to get him to stay for dinner, too, but Steve had been resolute. He didn't want to take up their entire time that day, so he'd compromised - she gave him as many leftovers as his arms could carry, and promised to come over the next day for dinner.

So when he finally entered his house late into the afternoon, it was immediately filled with the smell of leftovers and he had a smile lingering on his face for hours after. It would be a quiet night for him, but he would eat his leftovers and put on a movie and maybe go to bed early.

It was nice. A good day.

Several hours later, well after he'd had the leftovers and gotten changed into his pajamas, the silence was becoming deafening again. Steve couldn't really focus on the movie he'd been trying to watch - it was little more than background noise as he stared at the tv mindlessly.

Steve sighs, and lays his head back on the couch to stare up at the ceiling. He'd tried so hard to convince himself that he would be okay in the empty house. He felt selfish for not being happy enough with what he'd been given earlier that day. It was more than he'd had in a long time, after all. He should be content, but still the loneliness curls up the base of his neck mercilessly.

Steve isn't sure if he zones out, or takes an accidental nap, but suddenly he's blinking his eyes rapidly as his phone rings shrilly.

Unsure of who would be calling - his clock says it's nearly nine o'clock, now - he gets up and shuffles over. "Hello?" He greets with a half yawn hidden behind his hand. Maybe he had napped after all.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie greets, and Steve is smiling before he even realizes it.

"Eddie," Steve responds, and hopes his voice doesn't betray how pleased he is. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm here on orders," Eddie begins with a laugh. "Uncle Wayne's worried you all alone over there. When I told him, he basically threatened me to, and I quote, 'Make sure that boy eats, he's built like a damn twig.' So I was wondering if you'd have any room in your fridge for some more leftovers after Miss Byers got ahold of you."

Steve chuckles. "Well - that's nice of him." Wayne had intimidated Steve at first, but after he'd hung out at Eddie's a few times, they'd both warmed up to each other. Now, he and Wayne had easy conversations while Steve waited for Eddie to finish getting ready as he was always chronically late to everything. "I really am okay, no need to do all of that for me."

"Hey, it's not an option, Big Boy. Uncle Wayne wants you to be fed, and you'll be fed. I just thought I'd give you an illusion of choice."

"Gee, thanks. Very capitalist America of you."

Eddie barks out a laugh, at that. "Rude. Anyway, I know it's late, but I could bring them over now, if you want?"

"Sure, not like I really have a choice anyway, right?"

"I'm glad you get it so fast. See you in a bit, Harrington."

"Yeah, yeah," Steve says, but is smiling as he hangs up.

Steve glances down at his pajamas, grimaces, and immediately goes to change.

By the time Eddie knocks on his door, Steve has fussed with his hair at least seven times, and has changed into a large blue sweater and nicer sweatpants. "Cozy, Harrington?" Is the first thing Eddie says to him before Steve has an arm full of a heavy grocery bag shoved at him.

Eddie is wearing his leather jacket, like normal. But only his leather jacket to help fend off the cold. He’s even still sporting ripped jeans. "Eddie, it's fucking freezing out. Don't you have a bigger jacket?" Steve asks instead. Eddie's nose, cheeks, and ears are flushed a deep pink. If he stared long enough (a dangerous game) then he's sure he would see Eddie's teeth chattering, too.

"Pfft. And ruin my carefully crafted aesthetic? I think not." Eddie waves him off flippantly.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Your aesthetic won't mean shit if you get frostbite, dumbass."

"I am simply too pretty to get frostbite," Eddie retorts haughtily. Steve does not tell him he's very right about the pretty thing, but certainly not the frostbite.

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "Sure, man. Do you want to come in and warm up, at least?"

"Ah, I wish." Eddie sighs wistfully. "I have to go help Uncle Wayne clean up. But - I got this new record yesterday. Want to come listen to it tomorrow?"

The smile comes to Steve's lips easy. "Yeah, sounds good. After lunch?"

Eddie gives him a salute. "You know where to find me. Don't keep me waiting."

"You're the one always late!" Steve exclaims as Eddie turns, laughs, and heads down his driveway.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Eddie stops, suddenly, and turns around again to face him. His grin is wide, and Steve can see his breath escape up into the chilled air. "I like the glasses by the way. Night, Steve."

Steve waits until Eddie gets in his car and drives away before he very simply says, "Fuck," and goes back inside to have a quiet breakdown in embarrassment.

The leftovers manage to fit in his fridge alongside the Byers’ and Steve is certain he won’t have to buy food for a week. Steve leaves the Tupperware with a slice of apple pie out for a late snack. There’s crooked handwriting on the top in sharpie that just says, "Your favorite:)".

Steve doesn't remember telling Eddie that his favorite pie is apple, but it's true. The pie is warm, and Steve can't stop staring at the note.

"Favorite, huh," Steve mutters, and takes another bite.

29 DAYS

The list can kiss Steve's ass. He hates that he ever came up with it. He hasn't looked at it since Dustin came by, because it's dumb and he hates it. Having someone else look at the list opened his eyes to how much it sucked. How the hell would he even break down the convoluted, absurd effort that goes into trying to date someone? It was ridiculous to come up with. He never should have even tried.

"You're being dramatic again," Robin tells him bluntly as they pull into the Wheeler's driveway.

"I am not. I'm being realistic. How did I think it would be that simple? People aren't just - just, one note like that!" Steve throws up his hands for emphasis, but Robin seems no less convinced.

"You're just upset that you're not making any progress. Give it time, Dingus. It's not like you have a deadline."

Sometimes, when Robin activates her freakish ability to know what exactly to say without knowing she even needed to say it, Steve thinks that maybe Robin was the one with super powers all along. It wigs him out with how accurate she could be sometimes. He grimaces at her to show her the full brunt of his disdain, to which she rolls her eyes and repeats her sentiment that he's being awfully dramatic. "I resent that," he tells her as he parks, and does an awful job at unbuckling his seatbelt. He fumbles with it twice, and by the time he's out of his seat Robin is already closing the door and heading toward the Wheeler's front door. "I resent that!" He calls after her, just in case.

Robin spins around, cups her hands around her mouth, and yells back, "Dra. Ma. Tic!"

Steve grumbles wordlessly after her, and finally begins to make his way down the driveway. It looks like everyone else is already there - he sees the kids' bikes, and Eddie's van in the yard. It's as he's passing the van that he hears a voice go, "Usually, someone's telling me I'm the dramatic one. This is a weird role reversal."

Steve jumps about a foot into the air, and spins around to glare at Eddie. Eddie is leaned up against the driver side of his van door with one hand shoved in his jacket pocket and the other holding a cigarette to his mouth. "Eddie! Jesus, dude."

"No one's called me Jesus yet, but it's better than Freak, so I'll take it," Eddie retorts, and takes a long drag of his cigarette. Steve rounds the car, and stops short of him; hands on his hips. Eddie’s eyes drag up and down his body through thinly veiled amusement. He smiles behind his cigarette. "Ooh, the mom stance. Someone in a bad mood today?"

Steve kicks at Eddie's shoe in retaliation. "Prick." Steve can't even defend himself, because then he'd have to tell Eddie why Robin called him dramatic, and he would rather eat gravel than do that. "The kids broken out the pizza yet? I'm fucking starving." He and Robin had come straight to Family Game Night from their shifts at Family Video, so he was both exhausted and ravenous.

Eddie shrugs. "Dunno. Haven't been in yet."

Steve frowns, and tilts his head. "How long have you been here?"

Eddie pulls his hand out of his jacket pocket to glance at the watch on his wrist. "Maybe an hour? This is my second cig, at least." Eddie doesn't look at Steve again, and instead looks off into the distance. He's got this pinched look on his face that has Steve frowning deeper.

"What's wrong?" When Eddie hesitates, Steve steps closer. "C'mon, Eds. Is everything okay?"

Eddie sighs heavily, and finally looks at him again. There's resignation written plainly across his face, and the sight makes Steve sad for him. "Fine, just not mentally prepared to deal with Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's thinly veiled disapproving looks."

"Oh." Steve grimaces immediately. "Shit, man. I'm sorry."

Eddie shrugs one shoulder, and takes another drag. His shoulders slump as he exhales the smoke, but he doesn't seem any less tense. "Not your fault, Stevie."

Even with Eddie being cleared of everything, there were many people in town who had doubts. Steve can't count all of the times that he'd been out with Eddie and seen the hateful glares sent his way. It never became anything more than that, but Steve couldn't imagine that made it any easier on him. He wished he could do something to help - to shield him from having to deal with it. He'd been through more than enough. "...You know," Steve begins, and a smile grows on his face as he really thinks about what he's going to say. It's an awful idea. A really, really bad idea. Eddie raises his eyebrows at him patiently. "we could sneak in."

"Sneak in? How, exactly?" Eddie asks, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips now, too.

"Nancy's window doesn't latch completely. If you nudge it the right way, it'll pop right open. I told her to fix it ages ago, but I think she likes the idea of an easy get away if she needs it." Steve glances up at the window in question. It would be more than doable to get up there now. He'd... certainly had practice getting good at it. "Anyway, we just sneak in, and then down into the basement when they're distracted. Easy. No judgmental parents to deal with."

When Steve looks back at Eddie, he's giving him a disbelieving look. "...Really?" He asks. Steve nods, and Eddie shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh. "Fucking Steve Harrington, inviting me to sneak into a girl's room with him just to avoid some busybody parents? Who would have fucking thought."

Steve huffs. "We don't have to. I'll just put a sack over your head and drag you in there, if you'd prefer."

Laughter lingers on Eddie's words as he says, "No, no, no. I can not pass up this opportunity. Nancy is going to fucking hate this, which means I absolutely have to do it."

"One day you're gonna push her too far, and you're gonna get bones broken, man," Steve warns him, but everyone knows that for some bizarre; magical reason, Nancy had the most patience for Eddie out of everyone.

"That's the fun of it. Let me finish this, and then we can head out on our grand mission." Eddie says. Moments later, he shivers violently. "God damn, it's fucking freezing. Fuck this, actually."

"Well, if you would actually wear clothes for the season and not a flimsy leather jacket like I've been telling you to - "

"I can't hear you over how cold I am," Eddie says nonsensically, and sways forward into Steve's space. He pauses to throw his cigarette on to the ground and stomp it out before his attention is back on Steve like a hawk. Steve blinks, taken aback, and then Eddie is pressing himself into Steve's chest. "You're like a fucking heater, holy shit. I knew it. Share the wealth, man."

"Wh - this is why you need your own god damn winter clothes, Munson! There's no way Wayne lets you wander around with thin ass clothes like this. You're not gonna care about your aesthetic or whatever when you're losing toes to the cold - AH!" Steve lets out an extremely unattractive squawk as freezing fingers snake under his shirt and press into his ribs. Steve jolts back, but Eddie is like a god damned octopus; hands gripping Steve's waist as he tries to twist away from the sensation. Eddie simply shuffles further into Steve's space; cold nose brushing just under Steve's jaw as his chest is pressed into his. "Eddie, I swear to god!"

"Quit moving, you're an awful jacket."

"I'm not a jacket! I'm telling you to wear your own - oh my god, your hands are fucking freezing dude - "

Eddie chuckles against his neck, and Steve thinks he may actually truly die like this. Eddie Munson is a bastard. "You're the one complaining about me being too cold, and now that I'm trying to warm myself up, you're still complaining. What do you want from me, man?"

"To get your own damn clothes, not try to steal mine!" Steve exclaims. He hopes desperately that Eddie can't hear his heart jack rabbiting against his chest.

"Mmm," Eddie hums, and Steve can feel the hum in his sternum. He was actually, truly going to perish. Right on the spot. "No can do."

"Oh my god," Steve says. Eddie's hands are warming rapidly, thankfully, so it's not as jarring now. Steve glares down at the top of Eddie's head even as he realizes that this fight is a lost cause. Finally, with no sign that Eddie would be moving any time soon, Steve sighs and grabs the sides of his jacket to tug them around Eddie in a weird jacket hug. "You're ridiculous."

"Yes, but I'm ridiculous and warm, so it's really a win win situation, right?"

Steve did not tell him just how much of a win the situation was for him in particular.

Ten minutes later, and Steve was showing Eddie how to jimmy the lock on Nancy's window just right. Eddie hadn't stopped giggling from the moment they began to scale up the side of the house. "Fuckin - dude! At least laugh quieter, we're supposed to be sneaking! Jesus, do you want them to find us?" Steve asks; looking over his shoulder to send Eddie the full brunt of his disgruntlement. The window finally pops open, and Steve turns back around. "Finally. Okay, seriously, be quiet or - "

Nancy Wheeler was staring right at them, arms crossed. Behind him, Eddie begins to laugh so hard that he tips forward into Steve's back, and has to cling on to him as he sways dangerously.

"Uh," Steve says.

Nancy raises a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Eddie laughs louder. Steve can feel his forehead pressed into his back, and his hands fisted into his jacket. It would be terribly cute if he wasn't sure that he was about to be punted off the roof in two seconds.

Nancy glances past Steve to look at Eddie before she looks at Steve again. "Get him inside. I'll distract my parents."

Steve is so relieved that he nearly cries. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry."

"Hmm. Next time, warn me first. I almost shot you," she says matter of factly, and leaves the room. The door closes behind her with a decisive click, and Steve lets out a loud breath.

"Jesus Christ, I saw my life flash before my eyes," Steve mutters as he climbs in the window. He turns around to help the still giggling Eddie, who stumbles inside with the coordination of a toddler. Eddie trips on his feet as he gets in the room, and is pitched forward into Steve's chest again. "Easy, dude. Do you want to break your neck? God, stop laughing! You're so bad at being sneaky, oh my god."

"Well I'm sorry, Casanova. Unlike some people, I didn't spend all of high school sneaking into girl's rooms," Eddie snickers.

Steve rolls his eyes, and shoves Eddie backwards before moving around him to close the window. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But isn't this helping you right now? Wouldn't kill you to be a bit grateful."

When Steve turns around, Eddie's smile has turned Cheshire and devious. He leans forward into Steve's space again to stare up with wide, faux innocent eyes. "You're right. I'm sooo thankful, Steve," he says his name like it's a dirty secret; quiet and with the vowels drawn out slow. Steve blushes, but makes a valiant effort to remaining impassive. He's not sure it works. "Whatever would I do without a big strong man like you here, hm?"

"Oh my god, shut up," Steve mutters, and suddenly realizes he's crowded up against the window by Eddie. Eddie continues to stare at him through long eyelashes, eyes mischievous, and once again Steve feels like dying. "What - uh," when Steve stammers, Eddie's smile grows wider. Shit. He knows what he's doing, god dammit. "What's your favorite color?"

This stops Eddie, and he blinks. Steve is surprised by his own words, too, but he doesn't allow it to show. He has to retain some dignity at least. "Red," Eddie says, and tilts his head in consideration. "Why?"

"I guess black would have been too obvious, right?" Steve asks more confident, now. Then he thinks of the guitar and - of course. Red.

Eddie laughs softly. "Yeah, exactly."

"I just - since you seem to not own any clothes actually built for this weather," Steve begins as he reaches up and begins to unwind the scarf from around his neck. Eddie watches him the entire time; eyes tracking his every movement as he finally tugs the scarf off. He allows it as Steve reaches forward, and begins to wind the scarf around Eddie's neck carefully. The blue is stark against the leather jacket, and Eddie looks upsettingly cute with his hair caught under it. "This will have to do until we can get you a red one."

Eddie stares at him for a moment longer before he's smiling wide again. "That's sweet, Stevie."

Steve waves a hand at him dismissively. "I just don't want to have to babysit you if you get hypothermia," Steve tries to sound flippant, but he's a little afraid that the way he gently tugs Eddie's hair free from the scarf may give his care away. Eddie watches him quietly the entire time he works, and as soon as all of the hair is out, Steve skirts around Eddie to head to the door. "Come on, Nancy will be pissed if we take too long."

"Sir, yes, sir," Eddie chirps, and follows behind him easily.

Eddie ends up wearing the scarf home that night.

17 DAYS

Eddie looks nice in red.

They'd gone into Steve's backyard to smoke, and Eddie had thrown the scarf on that Steve had gotten him. Eddie still refuses to wear any other jacket than his leather one, but now more easily slides into Steve's space to leech off his body heat. Steve certainly doesn't mind this arrangement, but still makes a point to fuss at Eddie's lack of self care.

Steve hardly thinks anything of it when he reaches forward to tug Eddie's hair free from his scarf - that had become increasingly frequent, too. He's pulling away from Eddie when he realizes that Eddie had stopped himself mid sentence the moment Steve had reached for him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt. What were you saying?" Steve asks.

Eddie stares at him for a moment longer, face unreadable, before he shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. Hey - I've been meaning to ask. That movie you'd been mentioning recently. Did you want to go see it on Friday?"

Steve smiles, excited at the idea. "Yeah, man. Sounds good. Do you want to get dinner before?"

"Dinner would be nice," Eddie agrees. "I'll pick you up at 6?"

Steve scoffs at this. "You mean I'll pick you up at 6."

Eddie laughs. "C'mon, man! I don't drive that bad." Steve stares at him silently for so long that Eddie begins to laugh again. "Okay, okay! Have it your way. Pick me up at 6."

15 DAYS

Steve can't even remember the movie. All he can remember is the feeling of Eddie giggling quips and commentary into his ear the whole time, and the sensation of himself trying desperately to laugh quietly. The dinner before had been nice, too. Eddie had ordered for him when he'd left to go to the bathroom, and when he came back Eddie had tried to fold a crane out of his napkin. The napkin hadn't cooperated, so it looked less like a crane and more like a blob, but it made Steve laugh anyway.

The car ride back to Eddie's house was full of quiet laughter as Eddie tore into the movie with glee; dissecting the atrocious use of their soundtrack, and complaining about how boring the main love interest had been. Steve didn't argue with him because, once again, he barely remembered the damn thing. He just kept replaying every time Eddie would kick his foot to get his attention before making some wry comment, or how one time Eddie leaned over a bit too far and his lips brushed against Steve's ear. The smell of Eddie's cologne mixed with cheap, overpriced popcorn. The way the flashing lights of the screen lit Eddie up like some kind of dream. A visceral, real dream but a dream nonetheless.

By the time they pull into Eddie's driveway, they're both laughing at nothing in particular. "You've got work in the morning?" Eddie asks.

Steve sighs loudly. "Ugh, yeah. Don't remind me."

Eddie glances down at his wrist. "It's nearly your bed time then, Old Man."

"Shut up," Steve laughs. "But yeah, it's an early shift."

"Alright, fine. I won't keep you, then." Steve did not say that he would much rather continue the night than get decent sleep. He just puts the car in park, and watches Eddie unbuckle. "Besides, Uncle Wayne is probably waiting up for me, too."

Another unspoken change from Vecna - Wayne would always be up, no matter when Eddie returned home. Steve glances at the house, and sure enough could see the living room light on. "Seems like it. Oh, tell him that next time I come over I'll bring him that book I mentioned before."

Eddie's smile softens. "Yeah, man. I'll do that. He's been excited about it - well. As excited as Uncle Wayne can get, I guess." Eddie hesitates before he continues, and he looks bashful for some reason. "I'm uh, I'm really glad you two get along so well."

Suddenly, Steve feels shy, too, but he's not sure why. "Oh. I'm glad we do, too. He's - he's a good guy."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, and his smile is so tender that Steve wants to combust. "Okay, I should go before Uncle Wayne comes out here and drags me in. Goodnight, Steve. Tonight was nice."

Steve smiles back easily. "Yeah, I had fun. Night, Eds."

Eddie grins wide, and begins to climb out. He stops, though, and suddenly turns back around to face Steve. "You know what, fuck it - " Eddie leans forward over the arm rest, one hand grasping Steve's arm, and kisses his cheek. He pulls back to say, "Drive safe, Lover Boy," and he's out the car and shutting the door behind him before Steve can even process what just happened.

Eddie makes it to the front door and waves at Steve. Steve barely manages to wave back before Eddie is inside and closing the door behind him. "Oh my god?" Steve says to no one, and has to focus to get his hands to work as he puts the car in reverse. "Oh my god."

Steve doesn't bother looking at the time when he gets home. He dumps his things on his kitchen counter, and immediately calls Robin. As soon as he hears her voice answer, he blurts out, "I think I just went on a date with Eddie?? And I didn't know? Oh my god, Robin!"

Robin's voice is incredulous. "What - how in the hell did you not know? You can't just go on a date without realizing!"

"I don't know! I just - we just hung out like we normally do, but he - he kissed my cheek! And he was all - all weird all night, but like in a really good way! I didn't even realize - oh my god." Steve turns to put his forehead against the wall. "Oh my god, how did I not realize that was a date? He wouldn't let me pay for anything. He kissed me goodnight, Robin!"

"Oh my god?" Robin says, and sounds more excited than Steve feels, which is quite the feat. Steve was ecstatic.

"Oh my god!" Steve agrees with a laugh.

"Holy shit, Steve! Are you - I mean, you're going to like, ask him out again right?" Robin prods.

"I - I, well, I don't know! I mean, shit. Robin, we already hang out so much. What could I even do for a date that we haven't done? He took me out to dinner and a movie, that's like, all we have!"

"Oh, come on. You've gotta have other tricks up your sleeve, Steve."

"Okay, okay, no, you're right. I got this. I can do this." Steve says.

"You've got this!" Robin repeats. "Now, go woo that boy, Steve!"

Steve laughs, loud and relieved and elated. "I will."

13 DAYS

Steve's parents are home.

Steve slams on the brakes as soon as he sees the cars in the driveway. He's still a ways down the street, so he makes an ill advised U-turn and speeds away.

His heart is still hammering against his chest wildly as he pulls into Robin's driveway.

Whatever look he has on his face keeps Robin's mom from asking anything, and soon Steve is in Robin's room. The door has to be cracked open, because her parents are convinced they're dating, but Steve is as safe as he feels he can be.

Robin talks to him quietly about anything and everything has he lays his head in her lap and stares blankly at the ceiling. Her fingers run through his hair methodically, and after a while he finally feels his heart slow down.

"I should be happy," he tries to say, but Robin is shaking her head at him.

"No. They don't make you happy. Don't force yourself to try to feel what you think they would want you to feel. They fucking suck, Steve."

Steve laughs, surprised, but soon the laugh is getting caught in his throat. He swallows down a panicked noise, and turns his head to hide his face in Robin's stomach. She sits there with him for a very long time.

12 DAYS

"Do you need somewhere to lay low?" Is the first thing Eddie asks him when Steve tells him what happened.

"No, I'm - I'm okay, thanks. They said they're only staying for a few days before they're heading out again. They wanted to have Family Christmas," Steve spits out the words like they're the lie it always has been, "and then leave. They just want the neighbors to know they haven't totally abandoned me."

"Steve," Eddie says. Steve sighs, and moves the phone to his other ear. "You don't have to entertain them. Our couch isn't too god awful, you know that. Or I'll sleep on the floor, it doesn't matter. But you shouldn't have to deal with their - their fucking play act."

"I know," Steve says, and he does. "But I just... I don't know. It's hard to, uh, to step away. I'm okay, really."

"...If you say so. But - would you please let me know if it gets too much? I'll pick you up, and we could just - it doesn't even have to be to my place. We could find a place to park and just sit in the quiet, you know? Will you think about it?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Eds."

"Of course, Steve."

11 DAYS

Despite the... unforeseen situation, Steve is determined to continue like he had planned - he was going to take Eddie on a date, and it was going to be nice. And he wouldn't think of his dad at home, or his mom that barely looked at either of them. Or the shitty fucking Christmas gifts that he had to fake being happy about, and how it was a harsh reminder that they didn't know him. They just threw the most expensive things they could find at him in hopes that would keep him quiet until the next holiday. He had entirely too many shiny watches - they were all tossed in his nightstand drawer and never to be looked at again.

Anyway.

Date. Eddie. Right.

Steve was 100% fine, and 100,000% of sound mind that he could have a date with Eddie and not brew over his home situation endlessly and not ruin said date at all, no way.

...Steve is not fine, and he can't concentrate, and he's definitely ruining the date, and he feels like an asshole when he catches himself zoning out for the fourth time that night.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hesitates to look over at him, scared of what he'll see, but when he does there's no anger there. He just looks concerned. "Sorry," Steve replies, and has to consciously stop himself from bouncing his leg anxiously.

It had been going so well, really. Mostly. Steve had taken Eddie to his favorite record shop and bought him one, and now they're at a cafe that had, in Eddie's words, "The best damn muffins," and the muffins were really great. But Steve barely took more than a few bites before he found he'd lost his appetite, and he had to keep reminding himself to actually drink his coffee. And he felt bad, because he knew that Eddie had been picking up the slack and doing most of the talking for him. But he couldn't stop thinking of the small snipes his dad had been throwing at him every time they interacted, or how his mother had stared at him when he told her that he was allergic to shellfish and simply said, "Oh, I forgot," as if that wasn't a devastating thing to tell your son.

"Steve, hey, look at me." Steve didn't realize he'd stopped looking at him, and found himself having to drag his eyes away from his sad; picked apart muffin. Eddie tilts his head to catch his gaze better. "I'm really glad you asked me out today, but you're not okay, man."

"I'm sorry - "

"Don't apologize. It's okay, really. I'm just upset for you, dude." Eddie taps Steve's shoe from under the table, and leaves it there pressed against his. "Why don't we go back to my place, and like, take a nap."

Steve snorts. "A nap? That's not really how I imagined our second date going, but alright."

Eddie smiles, warm and soft. "I think it's a great date idea. You're exhausted, Stevie. Have you slept at all since your parents got home?" Steve shakes his head. Barely a few hours between the last few days. He was on edge every time he stepped through the front door. "Alright, then. Nap it is."

Eddie wasn't kidding. The second Wayne had done enough gruff check ins with Steve - "You doin alright, kid? Been eatin' fine? When are they leavin, again? Come over for lunch the next day, will you?" - Eddie dragged him into his bedroom. After shoes and jackets are dropped in the corner and one of Eddie's softer records is put on at low volume, they clamber into Eddie's bed. It wasn't anywhere near the first time that Steve had been in Eddie's bed (and hopefully not the last), but Steve couldn't help but be a little bit nervous. It was the first time since they'd gone on actual, honest to god dates that he was even in Eddie's room, much less cuddling up in his bed.

There was no need, however, as Eddie made a show of stretching and yawning loudly before draping an arm around Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughs - it’s more of a giggle, delighted, but he won’t admit that to anyone. “Wow. I never thought one of the oldest tricks in the book would be used on me so blatantly.”

“But it’s working, isn’t it?” Eddie laughs, and gives Steve’s shoulders a squeeze. The action pulls Steve closer toward him, and Eddie has to pull back a little bit so he doesn’t look at Steve cross eyed. “It’s the oldest trick for a reason, Stevie.”

"Shut up," Steve laughs, definitely a giggle this time, so sue him - Eddie's laughing with him, but his arm is firm and comforting around him. He's anxious - his dad has only been getting more and more short tempered as the days go by and Steve can't force himself to be that fake perfect son that his dad wants, which means he gets even more upset, and his mom is... just not there, even while being there, and the thoughts want to choke the air from his throat but - but he has this. A gentle, safe bubble with Wayne watching tv in the living room, and music dancing quietly through the air, and Eddie holding him with care.

Steve is tired, and he's a little scared, but he's got this and that would have to be enough for now.

10 DAYS

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Eddie," Steve says; throat thick with tears, with frustration. "Can we - I need to leave."

"I'll be there in ten minutes. Wear something warm, okay?" Eddie says immediately.

"Okay," Steve mumbles, and hangs up.

It's dark, and late at night. Steve packed a bag, but he's not sure what with. He did it robotically, without much thought. He sits on his front steps, and waits.

Steve isn't sure if it was more or less than ten minutes, but it felt quick to Steve. Headlights shine briefly across Steve as the car whips in front of his house, and he doesn't have time to really think about getting up before Eddie is getting out of his van. Steve watches numbly as Eddie rushes over to him. "Steve! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Steve says, and grimaces at the pain talking gives him. His lip stings, and he can already feel a bruise forming across his cheek.

Eddie's face morphs into one of muted horror as he takes in Steve's disheveled appearance. "Baby," Eddie says, and it sounds like he wants to cry. He bends down to ghost his fingers across the tender skin of Steve's cheek. "What the hell did they do to you?"

Steve does not want to talk about it, so he just shakes his head. "Can we go?"

"Of course," Eddie says immediately. He stoops down to grab and shoulder Steve's duffle bag. "Oh, here. You forgot your scarf. Use mine."

Eddie takes off his red scarf, and carefully winds it around Steve's neck. It's warm, and smells like Eddie. Steve immediately feels himself relax, even if only a little.

Eddie holds his hand out, and smiles encouragingly when Steve reaches up to grasp it. He helps Steve up carefully, and holds his hand all the way to the car. By the time they're both in the car and situated, Steve is bone tired. He slumps back into the seat with a loud sigh. "Stevie," Eddie says softly, and waits for Steve to catch his gaze. "Uncle Wayne was really worried about you when I left. We can take you wherever you want, but I think he would like to see you, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," Steve agrees.

Eddie smiles, reaches over to give Steve's hand a squeeze, and begins to drive.

Twenty minutes later, and Wayne is hugging Steve for the first time.

Steve thinks, bittersweet, Why did this have to be the first time we hugged? but is thankful for the reassuring warmth anyway. When Wayne pulls away, he looks Steve over with a grim expression. "What the hell did that bastard do to you, son?" He asks, and Steve begins to cry. That is the second time that Wayne hugs him.

Later still, when Eddie has convinced Steve that it is more than alright that they share the bed together - that it really doesn't bother Eddie at all, they've done it before and can do it again - Steve tries to apologize.

"Steve, every time you try to apologize, I want to swallow a D4," Eddie tells him. They're curled up toward each other in the bed. Eddie's knees keep bumping into his, but it's nice so he doesn't fight it.

Steve scrunches his nose. "What's a D4?"

Eddie's sigh is heavy. "God, one day we really have to get you into a session, dude. My references can't keep falling flat, it's a killer to my ego."

Steve's lips twitch up into a smile. "Oh, it's DND stuff?"

"Yeah, a D4 is just a type of dice you roll," Eddie explains, and Steve nods in understanding. “It’s particularly spiky. You don't want me to have to eat the equivalent of plastic needles, do you, Steve?"

Steve rolls his eyes. It hurts to smile, but it's impossible to fight one when he's near Eddie in nearly any capacity, so he doesn't try. "Dramatic," he tells him.

"Of course. I was one of the best students in Miss Strehl's drama class, you know?"

Steve did not know this, but the knowledge makes him amused. "I should have known you were in drama."

"Hey, while you were sweating your ass off running around with a bunch of stinky high schoolers, I was making art." Steve raises an eyebrow at him, and Eddie huffs a laugh. "Okay, yeah, no, we were all pretty bad. Which is why I was one of the best - it wasn't hard to be the best if everyone else is shit." Steve laughs quietly at him, and Eddie's eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "I'm glad you're okay, Steve."

"I am now," Steve tells him. Eddie reaches forward, fingers careful, careful, and brushes hair away from Steve's face. Steve closes his eyes briefly, lost on the sensation, before blinking his eyes open again. He's tired, and sore, but - "I'm okay."

"You're okay," Eddie agrees. "And I'll make sure you stay that way. You feeling up to trying to get some sleep?" Steve nods, and Eddie pulls the comforter closer around them both. He doesn't need a fake yawn, this time, to curl an arm around Steve. Steve goes easily enough, forehead against Eddie's chest, and closes his eyes. "G'night, Steve."

"Night, Eds," Steve whispers, and for the first time in a while, he sleeps well.

9 DAYS

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” is what Dustin very genuinely says when he sees Steve’s beat up face. Dustin was already on a frenzied warpath the second he’d apparently called Steve’s house that morning only to be told by Steve’s parents that he wasn’t there, and they didn’t care to know where he was. Now, hours after he’d called every single one of their mutual friends, he stood in front of Steve with a look of righteous fury on his face.

Wayne, who had let Dustin in in the first place, snorts as he putters around the kitchen. “Think there’s gonna be a long line of us doing just that, kid.”

“Wh - Mr. Munson, don't encourage him - “

“Wayne,” Wayne corrects immediately as he grabs a mug from the cabinets. He hesitates, glances back at Dustin and Steve in the living room, and grabs three more. “You kids like hot chocolate?”

Dustin somehow says, “Yes,” with both enthusiasm and barely contained anger. It’s nearly impressive. “Please,” he remembers to add.

“Good. Go get comfortable. Eddie’s gonna be back soon and we’ll have some lunch, how’s that sound?”

“Do you need help?” Steve asks. Dustin is still glowering at everything and nothing, but seems assuaged enough that he goes to sit down on the couch with a huff.

“No, son. Just sit down and relax if you can. I’m not in the habit of puttin’ guests to work.” Steve scrunches his nose. Part of him is inherently uncomfortable with the idea of not helping. Wayne must sense his discomfort, because he sends him an amused look from over his shoulder. “Go on, sit.”

Steve sighs heavily, but follows Dustin to the couch. The second he sits down, Dustin rounds on him. “Why didn’t you call me yesterday?” Dustin asks.

Steve sighs. “Look, man. I was… not in the headspace for much yesterday. I called Robin because we were supposed to hang out that night, and I didn’t want her to panic. After that, I passed the fuck out. I didn’t intentionally leave you out, okay?”

Dustin’s shoulders slump. “Oh. Well.” He thinks on something very seriously for a minute before he’s perking up to ask, “Can I put bang snaps in his tailpipe? Ooh, or under the welcome mat. Or under his car tire - actually - all of them!”

Steve laughs, somehow finding himself both amused and exasperated, “No, dude, just leave it be.” He doesn't say that the idea of his father being terrified by little firecrackers as he tries to go about his day is fucking hilarious, because he doesn't want to give Dustin the fuel to actually try it.

Dustin’s face scrunches in response. “How the hell am I supposed to leave it be when he fucking hit you?”

Steve falters. “Uh - well. It’s just, it’s not worth it, okay? They’re leaving soon.”

“And what happens when they come back?” Dustin shoots back immediately.

Steve grimaces. “I don’t know, okay? But it won’t be for a long time. You know how they are.”

Dustin’s frown doesn’t leave him. “You should move out of the house. You can stay with us.”

Steve shakes his head. “You don’t have the space, and I don’t want to burden your mom.”

“It’s not a burden, Steve! God, just let us take care of you for once.”

Dustin says it with such annoyance that Steve is a bit taken aback. “I just - it’s a lot to ask someone, Dustin.”

“No, it’s not,” he retorts petulantly. “It’s more of a burden,”  he spits out the word like Steve had offended him, “when I have to see you beat to shit. You have to take two kinds of medicine, and you can’t go to the arcade anymore, and sometimes you stumble down the stairs because you get dizzy and it’s all because you’re always beat to shit between monsters and - and fucking Billy and your own god damn parents, Steve! It’s not safe, and I just want you to be safe for fucking once in your god damned life - “

The moment Steve sees frustrated tears in Dustin’s eyes, he’s pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I’m sorry, it’s okay,” Steve tells him softly as Dustin clings to him like a lifeline. Dustin's hat falls off of his head at the movement, and Steve rests a hand on top of his curls. “It’s okay, okay? I’m okay, I’m right here.”

“Asshole,” Dustin sniffles, and curls his arms around Steve tighter.

“I know, man, I know.”

An hour later, Dustin has calmed and Eddie has returned home. Wayne sits them all down at the table to eat lunch, and it’s cramped but Eddie has sufficiently cheered Dustin up with extensive DND talk, and Wayne is talking to Steve about the book he borrowed. When pain begins to bloom behind Steve’s eyes, Dustin gets up to turn the kitchen light off and Eddie goes to fetch Steve’s medicine. They finish lunch by the afternoon light filtering in through the window, and by the time Robin calls to check on him, he’s smiling wide as he greets her. Wayne makes her promise to come over that night for dinner, and later still makes Steve stay the night.

Eddie and Steve curl up together later that night for bed, knees knocking knees, and fall sleep quickly.

8 DAYS

Steve’s parents leave, and Steve doesn’t go home to see them off. "I think Dustin is the most upset about it, weirdly," Steve says with a snort. "He keeps trying to convince me that his mom could adopt me, and won't listen when I tell him it doesn't work like that."

Eddie laughs. “Honestly, if we leave him to it I feel like he’d find some kind of loophole. Steve Henderson doesn’t sound too bad, huh?”

Steve shakes his head with a smile. “I guess Dustin of all people would be able to figure it out.”

“Yeah, and that way you could keep all of your clothes with your initials on it. I know how you preps like to remind everyone of who you are -  oof.” When Steve smacks a hand against Eddie’s chest in retaliation, he laughs. “What? It’s true!”

“Asshole,” Steve laughs. “It’s just the one letterman jacket, Eddie. With the amount of times you talk about it, I think you’re just jealous.”

“Pfft. As if. You couldn’t catch me dead in jock clothes,” Eddie says as they pull into Steve’s driveway. His parents’ cars are long gone, but Steve still finds himself glancing around carefully. Eddie puts the car in park, and turns in his seat to face Steve.

“So if I asked you to wear my clothes, you wouldn’t?” Steve asks with a grin; tearing his eyes away from the dark windows of his house.

Eddie stammers, “Uh, well - if you’re offering -“

“It is a lot warmer than that leather jacket of yours.” Steve tugs on the collar of Eddie’s jacket. The leather is cool beneath his fingers. “And I wouldn’t be mad. Seeing you in something with my name on it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters, and Steve finds himself laughing again in surprise. “You’re an absolute menace, do you know that?”

Steve was right before. Red looks good on Eddie. His face looks so pretty blushing. Steve smiles smugly. “So you’ll wear it?”

“Steve, you could ask me to wear a god damned potato sack and I’d agree.”

Steve’s smile widens. “You like me that much?”

Eddie sighs, long and slow, and his smile unfurls much the same. “I happen to like you quite a lot, Steve.”

The genuine answer has Steve flustered, this time. “Oh,  um - I like you a lot, too.” They share a quiet, shy smile. “I could go get the jacket now, you know.”

“Anyone ever tell you that patience isn’t your strong suit?” Eddie chuckles.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, and you’re the picture of patience? Literally how many times have I heard you complain about how long the kids take deciding what to do in your game, or every time you whine about how hungry you are when we go eat somewhere even after we’ve ordered and how you’re gonna waste away before it gets there, or how I always have to rewind the movie because you say it takes forever - “

Eddie leans over, and kisses Steve softly.

The words fall away from Steve’s mouth, and Eddie’s pulling back too soon. Steve reaches out, grabs a handful of that stupid, unhelpful jacket again, and pulls him back in. Their second kiss is firm, and really still just a peck, but Steve is left breathless all the same. Steve’s seatbelt digs into him uncomfortably at the way he’s leaned forward toward Eddie, but it’s the last thing he could even attempt to think about right then. Steve pulls back a little, just enough to look Eddie in the eye, and mumbles, “did you just fucking kiss me to shut me up?”

He watches, entranced, as Eddie’s eyes crinkle with his wide, delighted smile. “If I did, what are you going to do about it?”

“And you call me the menace?” Is all Steve asks before he’s kissing him again.

Their third kiss is warm, and lingering, and Eddie begins to giggle against his lips. Steve starts to smile, too, and the kiss turns into quiet laughter. Eddie bumps their foreheads together, and they giggle into each other’s mouths.

“I wouldn’t be opposed, you know. To the jacket,” Eddie says; voice hushed.

Steve raises his free hand to tuck hair behind Eddie’s ear. “I think you’d look good in it.”

Eddie’s smile turns devious. “Think you’ve got a thing for dressing me, Lover Boy. First the scarf, now this?”

“I want to take care of you,” Steve says truthfully. Eddie blinks, surprised, and Steve leans back to look at him properly. “Look, Eds, I’ve - I’ve really liked you for a while. And I had all these, like, plans or ideas on how to show you I really cared because you deserve it. I want you to feel special, and loved, because you don’t get enough of it. And I’d like to do that for you. You don’t have to, uh, answer me right now. It’s all really new, and I don’t want to pressure you, but I really, really fucking like you, Eds. And I want to do this right, if you’ll let me - “

“Are you asking me to go steady?” Eddie asks, voice filled with something like awe.

Sheepishly, Steve nods. “If you’ll - if that’s cool with you. I mean, it’s only been a few dates, so it’s okay if you want to wait or if, if you don’t want to. I just want you to be happy and if I can do that, then - “

Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt, and climbs over the armrest to press his knees into the edge of Steve’s seat. Steve’s words trail off as he has to crane his neck up to look at him. Eddie stares down at him with wide; determined eyes, puts his hands on the sides of Steve’s face, and kisses him hard.

Their fourth kiss is rough, and a little desperate, and spit slick as their lips slide together. Steve feels a noise escape his throat, head swimming at the sensation, and Eddie takes that as encouragement. He pressed further into Steve, and they shift backwards until Steve’s back hits the car door. Steve shivers at the cool glass against his back. Eddie pauses, pulls back just a moment to take a soft; shuddering breath, and kisses him a fifth time.

Steve clings to him; knuckle white and blissed, and opens his mouth for him when Eddie softly bites his bottom lip. Eddie’s tongue meets his, and their kiss turns open mouthed and heated. Steve’s hands trail down Eddie’s legs to grip behind his knees, and pull him down properly onto his lap. Eddie goes easily, and Steve’s hands are flitting back up to find purchase in Eddie’s hair. Eddie makes a noise at the grip, something soft and whining that makes Steve’s head spin, and kisses him harder.

Steve’s head hits the back of the window at the force, and Eddie is tearing away with a gasp. “Shit, sorry, sorry, are you okay - “

Steve laughs, punch drunk and - sure, a little in pain - but so god damned happy. “I’m okay,” he tries to reassure him, but Eddie is straightening up to lean over him. Fingers press carefully into the back of Steve’s head, and Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “Eds, I’m fine, promise. That was not hard enough to hurt.”

“Yeah, but you’re already injured!” Eddie huffs.

The only thing that Steve really registers for pain is the soft ache of his barely healed split lip, but that is the least of his concerns right now when he has Eddie Munson in his lap. “I’m fine, really. Promise.”

Eddie leans back to squint at him. Steve smiles back patiently. “…Hm.” Eddie bends down to kiss his forehead, and then his nose, and then a ghost of a kiss is pressed against his lips. “In case my answer wasn’t clear,” Eddie says, and presses another; firmer kiss to his lips. “That’s a yes.”

“I dunno, I think the message was a little unclear,” Steve says with a mischievous grin, “could you tell me again?”

“Ridiculous,” Eddie laughs, but kisses him a tenth time.

7 DAYS

Steve gives Eddie his jacket, and he was right - he loved how Eddie looked in his clothes.

Eddie thinks they look better on Steve’s bedroom floor.

Steve is inclined to agree.

6 DAYS

Jonathan catches them. It’s very innocent (he’d caught them just as they linked fingers together; hands clasped tightly), but nerve wracking all the same. But he just smiles, nods, and leaves them be.

5 DAYS

Nancy rolls her eyes and says very simply, “God, finally.”

4 DAYS

Max tells Steve that if he hurts Eddie, she’ll make his life a living hell.

A few hours later, Eddie tells Steve that she threatened Eddie to not hurt Steve, as well.

She seemed satisfied with both of their answers.

3 DAYS

Lucas just nods. “Cool.” And that’s that.

Erica looks unimpressed, shrugs, and resumes her conversation about how to best quantify the true ranking of the best My Little Pony.

2 DAYS

Will, shyly, congratulates them.

El blinks. “I thought you were already a couple?”

Mike squints at them. “But - you’ve dated girls -“ Mike seems baffled when Steve tells him that he likes both. “You can do that?”

He and Steve have a long talk after that.

1 DAY

They’re helping Mrs. Henderson with some last minute decorations she forgot to put up, but Steve quietly thinks that Dustin just wanted an excuse to hang out with Eddie and Steve. Not that he needed an excuse - they were always happy to hang out with him, of course - but sometimes, despite Dustin being generally someone who couldn't care less about how others perceived him, it could be hard for Dustin to say what he really wanted.

There’s some sort of pastry in the oven that makes the whole house smell like cinnamon, and Mrs. Henderson had filled their glasses up with eggnog four times now.

Eddie has a piece of fake cotton snow in his hair. Steve laughs quietly as he plucks it from his curls. “God, I’m gonna be finding that and glitter everywhere for days,” Eddie complains loudly as he reaches up and brushes something off Steve’s cheek. “So are you, it looks like.”

Steve glances around. Mrs. Henderson is still in the kitchen,  but Steve leans forward to whisper anyway, “I think I won’t want to look at eggnog again for another two Christmases after this.”

Eddie laughs brightly. “Seriously. Do you think our body is like 90% eggnog, now?”

“Yeah, at least - “

Something flies toward them, and hits Eddie in the side of the face. Eddie jolts at the impact, and Steve laughs when he sees a wad of bright red tinsel tumbling to the ground. “If you guys are going to be gross and in love, do it where I can’t see!” Dustin fusses.

“What was that, Henderson?” Eddie asks, and he’s got that smile on his face that means bad news. “Be more gross and in love? I mean, shit, dude, I guess if you’re gonna twist my arm.”

Eddie rugs Steve closer by his sweater, and kisses him softly on the mouth.

Dustin screeches. “Ew!! It’s like my parents kissing, oh my god - gross!”

Something else is thrown at them - a Santa hat, this time - before Dustin flees to the kitchen.

Steve and Eddie separate in a fit of giggles. “What a little shit,” Steve says, and his face hurts from smiling.

“Seriously, although, I guess I should be a little thankful to him. He’s part of why I even got this far, I think.”

Steve frowns, and tilts his head. He finds another piece of glitter on Eddie’s forehead, and wipes it away. “What do you mean?”

Eddie chuckles, “Well…”

33 DAYS

Eddie isn’t sure how, but Dustin is in Eddie’s house. Eddie pauses, halfway out of his bedroom, and stares in bewilderment as Dustin stalks down the hall toward him.

“How in the hell did you get in here - “

“You like Steve, right?” Dustin asks, and that can’t be right. Dustin can’t know that, right?

“Uh?” Eddie blinks. Dustin’s face is determined as he stops in front of him. “Yeah, I mean, he’s my friend? Of course I do - “

“No, I mean, like him. You’ve got a crush on him, right?”

“Uhhhhhh - “

“It’s a simple question, Eddie!” Dustin throws his hands into the air, exasperated. “I don’t have time for your little gay meltdown, or whatever! Do you like him or not!”

“Gay meltdown - “ Eddie exclaims, and is stuck between mortification that his crush was so obvious, and the hilarity of the fact that Dustin very seriously said gay meltdown.

“Eddie! Answer the question!”

“Okay, okay, yes! Jesus Christ, kid!”

Dustin rolls his eyes, and begins to dig around his pockets for something. “Fucking finally, Jesus. I mean I knew you did, but the verbal clarification felt important. Here.”

Dustin shoves a crumpled piece of paper into Eddie’s hands, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. Dustin motions for him to hurry up, and with a confused huff, Eddie opens the paper.

It's a list of ten things.

Eddie reads it, gets confused, thinks the handwriting looks familiar, is still intensely confused, and reads it again. “What the hell is this, Henderson? You need some dating advice or something?”

“No, it’s proof.” Dustin has his arms crossed, and a smug look on his face - it’s that look he gets when he solved a problem that no one knew was a problem yet, and expects thanks all the same.

“Proof for what, exactly?” Eddie asks.

“Steve likes you.” Eddie gapes at Dustin, at a loss for words, but he continues to barrel on anyway so it wouldn’t have quite mattered, “You wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t have proof, so here’s proof. It’s an honest to god list of ways to woo you.”

Eddie stares at the paper, then up at Dustin, then back down at the paper again. It’s definitely Steve’s handwriting. “…What.”

1 DAY

“That little shit!” Steve exclaims, face red with both embarrassment and rage. “I can’t believe him - that’s why I couldn’t find it!”

Eddie laughs. “Hate to say it, babe, but it worked.”

33 DAYS

“Okay, great. Now that you know that, you two can date and I can stop dealing with you two moping around each other and get some god damned peace.” Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with any of this information he’s been given, so he doesn’t. He just keeps staring at Dustin in shock. “What - quit looking all surprised! I mean, he’s like - super obvious. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice at least a little.”

“…I mean - “

Eddie knew people. He spent the formative years of his life dodging bullies and knowing what buttons made people snap at him and knowing how the inflection of his tone could make someone a little bit kinder to him. He knows how to tell an undercover cop from someone with a bad limp because his dad was the fucking worst, but also knew how to survive the best of anyone Eddie knew. He knew what someone looked like the second before they threw a punch, and he knew what it sounded like when someone had so many secrets that their voice was laden with guilt and paranoia.

Eddie knew people. He had to, to survive this long

So Eddie knew, half in disbelief and shock (why him of all people?), that Steve Harrington had a crush on Eddie Munson.

Luckily for them both, Eddie liked Steve, too.

Steve had been a bit more obvious lately. Eddie wasn't sure what the change was, but he wasn't upset by it. He'd allowed himself to be more lax with his own impulses because of it - usually these impulses were very simply to just be constantly glued to Steve's side. Thankfully, Steve didn't seem to mind it at all.

“I may have noticed… a little. Maybe. But what the hell do you want me to do with this?” Eddie asks, and waves the list around. It’s sweet, actually, if Steve really did make this list for him. It’s more effort than anyone has ever put into Eddie before.

“Woo him back, duh!” Dustin says this in his Why do I have to do everything around here? voice, which is absurd since all he’s really done is just break and enter into Eddie’s house. “Hurry up with your love epiphany, I’ve got to call Suzie.”

“I just want you to know,” Eddie says, and carefully folds the paper into fourths. “that I would have done this without your input.”

“Uh huh.” Dustin does not sound like he believes him at all. (Eddie isn’t sure he believes himself.)

“But I will… Consider this.”

“Uh huh,” Dustin says again. He looks entirely too smug. Eddie would remember this next session, and add an extra 0 to the enemy’s health points just in quiet spite. “Consider it faster. Steve said he wanted to do it by Christmas, so you’ve got a timeline.”

Eddie frowns. “Why are you so concerned with how long it could take?”

“Because I have a bet to win, and if you two don’t get together by Christmas then I owe Mike money and I’d rather eat my own hat than lose to Mike Wheeler.” And with that, Dustin spins on his heel and heads back towards the front door.

“You’re the actual worst, Henderson!” Eddie calls to his back.

Dustin hollers, “Thirty three days, Munson! Get to work!” and slams the door behind him as he leaves.

Eddie stands in his house, alone and with a piece of paper in his hands.

“Well, shit.”

It looked like he needed to get a move on, and fast.

“Thirty three days. Okay, I can do this.”

1 DAY

“He’s the worst, and I hate him,” Steve groans into his hands. “I’m so embarrassed. Oh my god.”

Eddie laughs, delighted. “Aw, babe! I thought it was sweet.”

“Shut up, oh my god.”

CHRISTMAS

For once, Steve’s Christmas is a busy day. He starts that morning by getting up to go see Robin, who hugs him tight before they exchange gifts in Steve’s car (neither of them want to deal with her mother’s awful attempts at getting them to confess their supposed secret dating life). Robin loves her gift, and Steve loves his. They hug again, she kisses his cheek, and he moves on to the next house.

Steve goes to see Wayne and Eddie next, because if he didn’t do the other houses last he would never get to see them. They have a quiet, calm brunch and exchange gifts over coffee. Wayne loved the book that Steve gifts him, and Steve makes a valiant effort not to cry when Wayne gives him a key to the trailer. “It ain’t much,” he’d said, as if he wasn’t placing something so loudly monumental in his hand, “but I want you to have it. Mostly for emergencies, if you need to get outta that damn house. But I wouldn’t mind you comin' over just cuz. Go on, put it on your keychain before you forget.” 

Later, Eddie walks Steve to his car, and nervously hands him something small and delicate, “it’s like - an extra gift. It’s - uh, it’s probably dumb, but… I dunno. You gave me the jacket, so I wanted something for you, too. That anyone could look at and know it was mine for you.” Steve stares down at the red guitar pick on a chain, already full of gratitude. The gratitude melds into adoration when Eddie flips it over, and Steve sees the small; obviously painstakingly hand engraved SH EM initials on the back.

Steve kisses him, firm and adoring, but he’s not sure what number that would be - he lost count a while ago.

Steve spends quite a while at Dustin’s house next. Mrs. Henderson makes him eat two and a half plates of food before she’ll relent and allow him a break, and Dustin shows him about this new science kit she’d gotten him. They sit in the living room and eat gingerbread cookies and watch Christmas movies, and fall asleep on the couch for an early afternoon nap.

By the time Steve gets to the Byers house, he’s sleepy and warm and content. Joyce makes sure he stays that way, because as soon as he steps in the door he’s got a mug of hot coco shoved into his hands.

Hopper is in a hand made Christmas sweater (some of the red and green pom poms are falling off, and that’s definitely El’s handwriting in puff paint that says Merry Christmas with the mas squished together at the edge of the shirt, but Hopper seems proud of it all the same), Jonathan is smiling wide behind his camera, and Will and El are competing to see who can catch the most marshmallows in their mouths (Will wins, but just barely).

The kids like the presents Steve got them, and Jonathan smiles quietly but genuinely at the camera lens filter he gets him, and Joyce almost cries when she opens the delicate locket with everyone’s picture inside.

Hopper opens the bottle of bourbon that he’d mentioned offhand once that he couldn’t find more of, and seems so touched that he reaches forward and ruffles Steve’s hair.

It is a good, good Christmas.

It’s late at night when Steve arrives home. His backseat is full of presents, and leftovers, and he feels warm down to his bones.

It’s a good, good Christmas, but his house is still dark at the end of the day.

Steve’s ever present smile softly falters, and fades, and he goes inside to grab a tote bag to bring all of his gifts and food in.

The door swings open before he can even pull out his house keys, and Robin is standing there with a large grin and flour on her cheek. “Steve!”

“Robin? What the hell are you doing here?” Steve is confused, but delighted. “You’ve got flour on your face, what - wait, I thought you went to your uncle’s house?”

Robin snorts. “No way. I ditched as soon as possible. Come on! Everyone’s inside already.”

“Everyone - ?” Robin pulls Steve inside impatiently, and closes the door.

The house is dark, but there are Christmas lights everywhere. The tree that Steve never bothered to turn on was lit up brilliantly, and Christmas lights had been strung around the walls of the living room. Every lamp in the house must have been turned on, too - it’s dim, but bright enough to see everyone well.

Music plays, but it’s soft and filters gently through the air.

Steve’s living room is twinkling, he smells cookies in the oven, the music isn’t too loud, and his home is full of people.

It’s not long before everyone - everyone - notices Steve, and turns to greet him. Steve is - baffled. He can barely spit out a coherent thought much less ask them how the hell they were all there.

The kids seem to be in charge of decorating - Max, Lucas, and Erica are very seriously putting tinsel on the fireplace mantle. Dustin and Mike are fussing with what seems to be a particularly stubborn strand of tangled Christmas lights.

“Oh, is Steve here already?” Mrs. Henderson pokes her head out of the kitchen. Her pink cat apron is covered in flour, too.

“Aw, man! We told them we needed longer!” Mike groans dramatically.

“I bet Steve said something like “I don’t want to bother you any more,” and left,” Robin says.

“Wh - hey!” Steve is offended, mostly because she’s right.

“Good, we need more hands. Steve, you have got to be better than Eddie at cooking.” Nancy says as she, too, wanders out from the kitchen. Instead of a cat apron, she has her hands on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face.

“Hey! I’m doing just fine!” Eddie’s voice is petulant, and he stomps out as well. “You’re just a perfectionist!”

“Eddie, cooking has recipes for a reason.”

Steve isn’t sure where he came from, but Wayne is at his shoulder. He leans over and mutters, “they always like that?” while Nancy and Eddie launch into a faux argument.

Steve laughs, bewildered at them but mostly bewildered by all of this, and nods. “Every time they’re together.”

Wayne snorts, and pats Steve’s shoulder. “Best escape while we can. Come help me get some presents inside?”

The Byers show up fifteen minutes later with more food and more presents and particularly smug looks on their face when Steve gives them baffled looks. “How did you guys even - I - how did you even get into my house?”

“Key,” Dustin says offhandedly as he skirts around Steve to try and sneak into the kitchen for the third time since Steve had been there.

“Ah, shit.” How Steve keeps forgetting that he even gave him one was beyond him.

Joyce smiles at Steve, and gives his arm a squeeze. “Isn’t it nice? We all wanted to do something with us - with you - and Dustin suggested your house would be easiest. I hope you don’t mind.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no, of course not. I’m - I'm really happy.”

Joyce’s smile widens, and she reaches up to pat his cheek. “I’m glad. You know,” Joyce’s smile turns a little devious as she leans forward to whisper to Steve, “the lights were Eddie’s idea. To make it quiet and comfortable for you, so your head doesn’t hurt so bad.”

Steve opens his mouth, surprised, and finds the words are stuck in his throat. All he manages is a soft, “Oh.”

Joyce laughs. “He’s a good one, huh?” Steve nods. “I’m really happy for you, Steve. You deserve - honey, you deserve all of this, and him, too. You understand, don’t you?”

Steve’s lips quiver, but he manages a smile as he agrees, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” Joyce says, leans up to give his forehead a kiss, and goes to help Max and Mike with sorting the presents.

Much later that night, when the kids were dragged home reluctantly (even though they’d all been half asleep by then), only Robin and Eddie remained. They didn’t have much to clean up, so they changed (they both wore Steve’s clothes, and the sight had something content and warm settle in his chest) and clambered into Steve’s bed.

“This is not gonna work,” Steve laughs for the fifth time.

“Shut up,” Robin says.

“Not with that attitude it won’t,” Eddie retorts at the same time.

Somehow, Steve manages to get squished in the middle. Robin lays on her side facing him, face pressed into Steve’s neck lest she take a tumble backwards off the side of his bed. Steve has his arms thrown around her as a safety net, but mostly out of necessity. Eddie is behind Steve, long legs and arms draped over Steve like a tattooed octopus. Eddie’s nose brushes against the back of Steve’s neck as he shuffles around to get comfortable.

“Oh my god, stop moving!” Robin huffs.

Eddie, in retaliation, reaches past Steve and shakes Robin’s shoulder violently.

Robin yelps, nearly pitched off the bed, but thankfully Steve has a firm hold on her. “Asshole!”

“Oh my god, you’re both children!” Steve exclaims with no real heat.

“He started it.”

“She started it.”

Silence reigns for a few moments before -

“I started it? You’re the one that fuckin tried to make me break my own god damned neck - “

“You’re the one that had to be all snarky and - “

“Guys,” Steve says loudly. They quiet. “If you two don’t shut up, I am going to leave this bed and sleep on the couch.“

Arms, both Robin and Eddie’s this time, curl around him in an iron grip. “No! How dare you!”

“If you leave, I’ll actually cry,” Eddie says seriously.

“Yeah, me too. We'll both be crying, and you’ll feel awful because you made your favorite people ever cry. Do you want that on your conscious, Steve?” Robin asks him.

“I don’t think you want that, Steve,” Eddie tells him.

“Why is it that the only time you two can agree on something, it’s when you want to gang up on me?” Steve asks with an amused huff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they say at the same time, like some sort of bizarre echo on either side of Steve.

“You’re both menaces.”

“I mean, yeah,” Eddie says.

Robin coos, “And you still loooove us.”

And Steve couldn’t really argue with that, now could he?

DECEMBER 26TH

It is the day after Christmas, and Steve awakens to sunlight and the soft sounds of his loved ones beside him.

Later that day, he will put on layers and layers of clothes (and layer and layer of clothes on Eddie and Robin, too, until they tell him he’s being ridiculous) and make poorly constructed snowmen with his friends. They’ll get soaked to the bone, and track slush and water all through the house. They’ll eat leftovers, and fight over the last bit of Wayne’s apple pie. Robin will kiss his cheek goodbye later that night, but Eddie will kiss him on the lips goodnight before they both curl up together in bed.

It will be a good day, full of warmth and laughter and the people he loves.

But for now, Steve closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in a very, very long time.