Archive of Our Own

Tuesdays are always quiet at Family Video.

The Friday Saturday rush of weekend rentals and the subsequent Monday rush of returns usually always leave the middle of the week slow and unsatisfactory. The most excitement they get in those three days is the shipment of new inventory, but that doesn’t come until Wednesdays, and every other Wednesday at that.

All that’s on today’s agenda is to help any customers that may stop in, and to finish the reshelving. Though, there isn’t really a whole lot to reshelve today, especially with the divide and conquer approach Steve and Robin take to the stack of tapes. Steve finished his half ten minutes ago and has been sitting at the counter, slouched over the Seventeen magazine Robin had brought to entertain herself for this exact scenario.

Robin is still somewhere between the shelves, finishing off the last of her cart. Steve would have offered to help her, but Robin had been a sore loser when he announced that he finished first, so he decided to let her suffer. Though, the longer he flips through articles about “the latest looks in perms” and “boy ploys that never work” the more he starts to think that he might be the one suffering here.

Suffice it to say, he is bored .

That is, until the front door goes flying open so explosively that the bell above jangles violently against the glass and nearly sails right off the hook.

Steve’s spine snaps as he jerks up, magazine slipping from his fingers. The foggy haze of boredom clouding his mind clears in an instant as all of his senses switch to high alert. His head whips towards the commotion only to see none other than Dustin and Lucas spilling inside and hurtling straight towards Steve with wild looks in their eyes. They’re out of breath, like they ran here or something, and when they reach the counter, they spill themselves dramatically across the top.

“Woah, woah, where’s the fire?” Steve asks, trying not to panic too much. Neither one of them looks hurt, but that doesn’t mean something bad hasn’t happened. It doesn’t mean that they aren’t in danger. “What the hell is going on? Do I need to get my bat? Is it—”

“No! No !” Dustin and Lucas shout together, shaking their heads emphatically.

“It’s nothing like that, Steve,” Lucas reassures, holding out his open palms like he’s trying to calm a spooked horse.

Steve’s blood pressure settles back to normal — or as normal as it can get around these two — and he relaxes as the fight drains back out of his shoulders. “Jesus christ, you can’t do that,” he snaps, rubbing at his temples.

Lucas has the decency to send Steve an apologetic look, but Dustin just waves a hand through the air dismissively, like it’s no big deal that he almost just gave Steve a god damn heart attack. Typical.

“Valentine’s day is coming up,” Dustin says.

Steve waits for him to continue, but after a couple of seconds, it doesn’t look like he has anything else he’s going to add. He wrinkles his brow at Dustin. “Uh, yeah,” he says, the duh heavily implied. “You can read a calendar, congratulations.” He rolls his eyes and starts to reach for the magazine again, but Dustin’s hand slams down on top of it, pinning it to the formica.

“What gives?” Steve asks, narrowing his eyes at Dustin.

“ What gives ,” he starts roughly, leaning forward, “is that this is my second Valentine’s day with Suzie and it needs to be even better than the first—”

“And Max has crazy big expectations for it. She says she doesn’t care, but I know she does,” Lucas interjects. “I’m not falling for that twice,” he adds, shaking his head.

Steve can’t help but snort at that. He knows how that one goes, he feels for Lucas there.

“Mike stole some magazines from Nancy’s room for us to look through, but all that’s in those are stupid articles about clothes and make up and how dumb boys are,” Lucas complains. “They don’t tell us anything about what girls like for Valentine’s Day!”

“Yeah, but then we realized that we don’t need those stupid magazines,” Dustin emphasizes and gestures proudly towards Steve, “because we have you ! You’ve gone out with, like, every girl in Hawkins — statistically, you have to know something that will help us with this.”

Lucas nods in agreement.

Steve doesn’t know whether to be more offended by Dustin’s insinuation that he’s the town slut or that statistics are what make him think Steve has worthwhile advice instead of the fact that he actually is good at romance.

He doesn’t get the chance to protest either, though, because Dustin barrels on.

“ So ,” he impresses, fixing Steve with a demanding look, “tell us your secrets!”

“Please,” Lucas adds, sending a pointed elbow into Dustin’s ribs hard enough to make him wince a little. 

At least one of them has manners. Sort of.

“We just need some advice,” Lucas summarizes.

“ Love advice,” Dustin adds, as if that wasn’t clear, stretching the word out in a very Eddie-like way. He also waggles his eyebrows, and it reminds Steve of Robin, too. Those three are a dangerous combination, and Steve idly wonders if he should be worried about how much time they all spend together and just how much plotting goes on when they do.

Despite all of Dustin’s offenses and the general insolence, something warm still settles in Steve’s chest. It feels nice to be the one that they came to for this advice. That out of all of their friends, he was the first one they thought of. Even if it’s mostly because of his reputation. Still. They could have dismissed that, especially since said reputation hasn’t exactly been so accurate these days. Steve likes to think that they looked past that anyway. That they value what he specifically has to say.

Before he can begrudgingly agree, though, they’re interrupted.

“Oh, how lucky are we, the shrimps are here!” Robin declares as she emerges from the comedy section. She’s all faux cheer and pseudo smiles, while Dustin and Lucas pout at her in return. “To what do we owe the great pleasure of your company? Here to swindle Steve into renting you another rated R—”

“Hey! It was one time! And it was an accident!”

“— or are you here to return more tapes that aren’t properly rewound?” Robin points an accusatory finger at the pair of them. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she reminds them.

“That was Erica!” Lucas cries out, defensive.

“Sure,” Robin replies, rolling her eyes. “What’s your excuse?” She asks Dustin.

“It was one time!” He shouts back, eerily similar to Steve. “Has anyone ever told you you hold a mean grudge?”

“All the time,” Robin smiles sweetly.

“Nevermind that! We’re not here for that,” Dustin says, voice firm and matter-of-fact. He smacks his palm flat onto the formica, “we’re here for Steve’s advice.”

“Yeah, his love advice,” Lucas chimes in this time, leaning his elbows onto the counter.

Robin tucks the cart back into its place beneath the counter and laughs. “You’re looking for love advice from Steve ? Our Steve? This one right here?” She asks, hanging off of his shoulder. She scrunches her nose at him, then turns the look towards the boys as if she’s questioning their choices.

Seeing this, Steve shakes Robin off and crosses his arms over his chest defensively. “Uh, yeah, of course they’re asking me . I’m like the Casabona of Hawkins,” he scoffs.

“Casa… what now?” Robin questions.

“Casa… bona ,” Steve repeats, frowning. “Y’know, that one Italian dude that got, like, all the babes? They called him Casabona… because he… because he boned a lot? Is that… not…” he trails off.

“Do you mean Casa nova ?” Dustin corrects, and oh, Steve does not like that smarmy little look on his face. “That was his name . Not a nickname.”

“Yeah, that guy, whatever, you obviously know who I meant,” he says, brushing it off. “That’s me. I’m, like, the Hawkins version of him.”

Robin laughs again and flashes Steve apologetic eyes. “Hate to break it to you, bud, but I don’t know if you’re qualified to hold that title anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you haven’t had a date in months. You can’t pick up girls at all these days,” Robin explains, pressing her lips together and lifting her eyebrows pointedly at him.

And, okay, ouch. It hasn’t been that long since his last date, has it? But even if it has, there’s a pretty good reason for it: Steve isn’t actively looking for a girlfriend right now! He’s not! Ever since March of ‘86, and then the fight to end all fights that followed only one measly month later, he’s kind of had bigger things to worry about. Not to mention, now that everything is finally over , once and for all, he’s been a little busy focusing on getting his life back on track. On recovering, both mentally and physically. On maintaining and growing the new friendships the whole experience had brought him. Like the one between him and Eddie. They’ve been doing a lot of hanging out together lately. Ergo, he just hasn’t had time for dating. No big deal. That doesn’t mean he’s lost his touch. (Even if he had been struggling with it before all of this too.)

“Okay, but even if he’s not great at it anymore, he still used to be! He had so many girlfriends in high school!” Lucas points out.

Which, like, technically, isn’t even true because, really, Nancy and maybe one or two girls before her were ever his girlfriends . The rest were just — hookups. And, like, maybe that does mean that the slut allegations do have a bit of truth to them, but what can Steve say? He just loves love. Always has, always will. Can’t fault him for that, right?

But that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that Lucas’s heart is in the right place here, jumping to defend Steve like that. It’s more than he can say for Dustin, who seems to be siding wholeheartedly with Robin here. Again, those two are a dangerous pair.

Steve snaps his fingers and grins smugly at those two anyways. “Hah! See? Casanova! Thank you, Lucas.”

He always knew Lucas was his favorite for a reason.

“Maybe so,” Robin halfway concedes, but she’s never been one to let sleeping dogs lie. “But the past doesn’t always predict the future.”

“I don’t see you doing any better, Buckley,” Steve snaps back, quirking a challenging eyebrow at her.

It has the desired effect in leaving her speechless — a rare feat to achieve. But Steve doesn’t even get to bask in that personal victory, because instead of speaking, she does something worse. She starts to smile , this big, evil grin that unfurls slowly across her face, and oh. Oh no . That’s not good. That’s never good. That always means trouble.

Robin sticks her hands on her hips and juts her chin out at Steve. “I bet I can get a Valentine’s date before you can,” she says, all arrogance.

Dustin and Lucas oooh at her fighting words, then turn to Steve for his rebuttal.

But, oh. Oh . That’s too easy. Steve of all people knows how bad Robin is at talking to the girls she likes. It had taken her months just to work up the courage to make basic conversation with Vickie, and though that ship has long since sailed, she’s not doing much better with Nancy now. Sure, Robin can actually talk to Nancy without losing her mind, but flirting? Forget it. Robin doesn’t know the first thing about flirting (despite all the advice Steve has given her over the years — funny how she was always willing to listen to it then) and there’s no way she’d try to do it anyways. Normally Steve would encourage her on that front, but now? It’s totally working to his advantage.

“Robin, Robin, are you sure you want to do that?” He asks, standing to his full height. His shoulders roll back, and he feels the patented Harrington Charm flooding back through his body like a switch has been flipped.

“Absolutely certain,” Robin replies, not backing down. She holds out her hand.

Steve shakes his head at her, then lets an easy, confident smile curl his mouth. “You’re gonna regret that,” he says, then smacks his palm into hers, “but you’re on.”

A beat goes by, and the two of them hold each other’s hard stares — yet another competition. Steve doesn’t drop Robin’s hand, and Robin doesn’t drop his. If anything, they both just tighten their grip, neither one wanting to be the first to let go.

Robin’s stubborn at the best of times, but so is Steve.

Steve’s wondering just how good victory is going to taste when a throat clears to his left, reminding him that they’ve still got company.

“So, like, can we still get that advice, though?” Lucas asks.

The bet is still at the forefront of Steve’s mind as he pulls up to Eddie’s trailer later that evening.

He’d been tempted into coming over by the promise of testing the new batch of product from Reefer Rick — not that he needed to be tempted to come in the first place. All Eddie had to do was ask. No conditions, no strings, no nothing needed.

“Hey,” Steve says, depositing the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table as he rounds the arm of the couch and drops himself into the cushions beside Eddie. “You know any cute girls?” He asks, kicking out his feet in front of him. His ankle presses into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn’t move it.

Eddie’s hands pause around the rolling paper he’d been pulling out of his little metal lunchbox, and he tilts his head towards Steve, an incredulous look painting his face. “Do I what ?”

Steve nods, tossing a few kernels into his mouth. “Do you know any cute girls? Keep up, man,” he teases, knocking his elbow into Eddie’s arm.

When Eddie continues to gape at him, Steve rolls his eyes and sits up. “Robin and I made a bet,” he starts to explain. “She thinks she can find a date for Valentine’s Day before I can.”

Eddie makes a noise of amusement that has the corners of Steve’s mouth quirking.

“I told her fat chance because, like, she’s never asked a girl out in her life, and you know Rob — she can barely make small talk with a girl she thinks is cute, so forget about flirting .”

Another chuckle from Eddie.

“But, like, I was thinking about it after and—” Steve laughs humorlessly, “— I don’t actually know if I can win this bet either.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks.

“I mean , I’m not exactly drowning in girls these days,” Steve explains, missing the way Eddie scrunches his nose distastefully at that. “Haven’t really been since high school, if I’m being honest.” He sighs mournfully and slouches back into the cushions.

“So you’re asking me for prospects?” Eddie questions, brows furrowing. He looks — and sounds — like he thinks Steve is out of his gourd. 

And, shit, maybe he is . It’s not like Steve’s ever heard Eddie talk about any girls. Or boys, for that matter, since he likes both. He’s been pretty quiet about anything to do with romance in general, never mentioning any crushes or showing any interest in dating. Hell, Steve doesn’t even know Eddie’s type . He sort of assumes it would be people like him: other metalheads or DnD nerds. 

Those are probably the kinds of girls Eddie would know, too. Steve finds that the idea of a cute metalhead girlfriend doesn’t bother him. He’s not opposed to it, and the more he considers it, actually, the cooler he thinks it might be, dating someone like Eddie. Theirs is a whole different world, and Steve’s always looking to learn more about it, if only so he can keep up with Eddie. A metalhead girlfriend would give him the perfect chance to do just that.

“Don’t you have, like, plenty of choices all on your own?” Eddie asks, pulling Steve back to their present conversation.

Steve laughs dismally and tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Not exactly,” he replies.

Eddie snorts. “I find that kind of hard to believe, dude.”

Steve lets his head loll towards Eddie. “What? Why?”

Eddie shrugs, not meeting Steve’s gaze. “Because you’re—” he gestures towards Steve, casting him a brief sidelong glance before turning back to the task at hand, “— you . You’re, like, hot. And charming, and nice , and shit. Girls like that, don’t they?”

Something squirms in Steve’s stomach at that, and he does his best to ignore it. Compliments always make him feel a little funny. Even when they’re coming from Eddie. Especially when they’re coming from him. He doesn’t just hand them out, after all.

Steve lets a lopsided smile pull at his lips anyway, and he lifts his brows at Eddie. “Oh? You think I’m hot ?” He asks, sticking his elbow out to catch Eddie in the ribs again. “And charming ? And nice ?”

It might be a trick of what little mid-afternoon sunlight slips through the still closed blinds, but Steve thinks he sees a blush rise to Eddie’s cheeks before he ducks his head and his hair falls around his face to curtain it from view.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbles, lifting the joint to his lips so he can lick the paper. Steve’s gaze catches on the wet dart of his tongue. “Just saying what everybody’s thinking, man.”

Steve reaches for another handful of popcorn and stuffs some into his mouth, looking away. Eating his feelings always helps when he’s with Robin. “Not so much these days,” he tells Eddie forlornly.

“If only they could see you now,” Eddie teases, letting his eyes sweep pointedly over Steve’s dejected slump, his hunched shoulders, and his disgustingly full mouth.

Steve snorts and tosses a few pieces of popcorn at Eddie. They mostly bounce right off of his nose and cheeks, but a few kernels get caught in his hair, and it makes Steve laugh harder as Eddie grumbles and tries to shake them loose.

He flings them back at Steve when he gets them free. “Fuckin’ menace.”

Steve lurches forward, trying to catch the pieces in his mouth, but they end up ricocheting off of his face too. Eddie laughs at him, and Steve flops back against the cushions with a pout, settling for picking up the kernels that landed on him and popping them into his mouth.

“Look, I don’t know any cute girls to hook you up with for Valentine’s Day,” Eddie starts, twisting in his seat and drawing his knee up onto the couch. It bumps into Steve’s leg, but he doesn’t move it. Steve gets distracted by it for a second, before the grin that slowly unfurls across Eddie’s face catches his attention instead. 

“But I do know a cute girl who’s free right now,” Eddie continues.

Steve sits up, furrowing his brow.

Eddie holds up the freshly rolled joint and gives it a little waggle. “Her name’s Mary Jane and I can guarantee she’ll show you a good time.”

Steve laughs, and reaches for the joint, plucking it from Eddie’s fingers so he can stick it between his teeth instead. “You’re a good man, Munson,” he says around it.

He leans forward, towards Eddie, his shoulder pressing into Eddie’s, warm and firm, and juts his chin out, silently asking for the light.

Eddie fumbles with the lighter before he holds it to the end of the joint. The flame catches, and Steve takes a deep inhale. Lets the smoke fill his lungs and holds it there until it starts to burn. He exhales in a big gust, and with it some of the tension surrounding this silly little bet leaks out.

It’s three days later during their Friday rush that Steve finally figures out who he’s going to ask.

He’s been thinking about it since they made the bet. Robin already has her sights set, which puts her at an advantage, much to Steve’s chagrin. He needs to step it up, if he’s going to win. And that means getting serious about finding someone to ask out.

Turning to Eddie for help hadn’t panned out, and Robin won’t help him on account of her being his opposition here. He can’t exactly go to the kids, either, and asking Nancy for help feels a little bit like it goes against the rules. (Though, it would be pretty funny if Robin’s object of affections helped him win the competition against her. Unknowingly, of course, but still. Robin would never let him get away with that.)

Steve has considered reaching out to one of his old flames — girls he’d gone on first dates with but never seconds or thirds, girls he’d hooked up with and hadn’t heard from again, girls who had given him his number that he had never actually used. None of them stood out to him as someone he wanted to try again (or for the first time) with, though. 

Besides, it hadn’t been Steve that had ended things with all of them, and it would be way too embarrassing to call up a girl that dumped him to ask if she wanted to give it a second go. And on Valentine’s Day too. That would just read as pathetic. 

(Though, Steve is feeling pretty pathetic right now, so maybe leaning into that wouldn’t be so bad.)

It’s a Friday today, which means that it’s been busy. A pretty steady flow of customers in and out, needing help finding that one movie their friend told them about, or looking for recommendations for the best historical drama, or inquiring about whether the Family Video Rewards Program is worth it or not. Robin’s been working the floor, leaving Steve stuck behind the counter, dealing with all of the long line of checkouts and people wanting to challenge the late fees racking up on their accounts.

Fucking Fridays.

Needless to say, he is in desperate need of some sort or reprieve.

He’s just sending the latest customer in line away with a wooden “have a nice day” and a plastic smile when he spots a flash of dark curls and denim disappearing into the horror section.

Something warm spreads through his chest and the tight knot of tension in his shoulders loosens a little at the prospect of Eddie sidling up to the counter any second now, two VHS’s clutched between his ring-clad fingers so he can bug Steve for his opinion on which scary movie Steve’s never seen has a better chance of making him piss himself out of fear. The prospective conversation already has a smile playing at the corners of Steve’s mouth — a real smile, too, none of that phony customer service bullshit that’s been making his face ache all day.

Steve watches the aisle, waiting not-so-patiently for Eddie to emerge from the other end.

Except, when the flash of curls turns the corner, they aren’t attached to Eddie like he’s expecting. Instead, they’re sitting atop the head of a girl. A pretty girl, but a girl , nonetheless. Someone that is decidedly not Eddie.

A sharp needle of disappointment pops Steve’s balloon of excitement, and he deflates back into his seat. But that dismay doesn’t last for long.

Steve vaguely recognizes the girl — Jenny? Julie? Something with a J, he’s pretty sure. She’s been in before, several times actually, so Steve knows he’s seen her name when he’s entered her account number into the system before, but he can’t exactly say he’s ever paid it enough attention to retain it. Which is ironic considering she’s tried to flirt with him just about every time she’s come in too. That he remembers.

That’s too bad , he thinks to himself as he takes a second to check her out. Looking at her now, he isn’t sure why he’s never bit the line she so obviously cast out for him.

She’s cute. With dark curls framing her soft face and pretty brown eyes. She laughs at something Robin says, her cheeks high and full and flush with amusement as a sunny smile pulls at her whole mouth. She doesn’t have dimples, Steve notes absently, but it’s still a nice smile.

She thanks Robin for her help, and sets one of the two tapes in hand back onto the shelf, her decision made. As she changes course and approaches the desk, Steve straightens up and thinks yeah, okay, I’ll go for it this time .

So he does what he does best: he flirts. Smiles at her all charming. Talks real sweet. Compliments her choice of movie. He asks for her name, under the guise of needing it to pull up the account, and he has to refrain from crowing in delight when he learns that he did remember the J correctly. It’s Janine. Janine Campbell. Like the soup ? Steve asks with a wink. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing, even though Steve is sure that it’s far from the first time she’s heard that, but he glows with pride anyways. 

Robin doesn’t know what she’s talking about. He’s still got it.

Steve doesn’t ask her out, at the end. But he does tell her he hopes to see her again soon, and she does smile sweetly back and promise that he won’t have to wait long. Hook, line, and sinker. Truth be told, she probably would have said yes if he asked her then, but sometimes Steve likes a little build up. A little anticipation . Something to look forward to. And besides, where’s the fun in winning the bet that fast? He’s got to let Robin think she’s got a chance.

“And he strikes out again , ladies and gentlemen! Another tally on the ‘you suck’ side of the house!” Robin narrates in a deep, booming announcer’s voice. She holds her fist up to her mouth like it’s a microphone and grins deviously from behind it.

Steve startles. He hadn’t heard her sneak up on him. But he spins around and fixes a glare onto her. “That stupid board doesn’t even exist anymore,” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest. Doing that always makes him feel more authoritative. 

“Maybe it needs a revival,” Robin replies, eyes glittering with possibility. 

“Maybe I should make one for you,” Steve snarks back, bouncing his eyebrows up pointedly.

Robin pouts at that and sticks her tongue out at him. It’s childish, but it does make Steve feel like he’s won this round.

“That wasn’t a strikeout, anyways,” he continues, leaning back against the counter. “That,” he says, firmly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “was the first step on my path to victory. I’m laying the groundwork here, Buckley. Showing her I’m interested, but leaving her wanting more. Trust me, asking someone out is an art, and I’m like fucking Picasso.”

Robin snorts. “Casanova and Picasso, watch out Hawkins,” she comments.

Steve rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother to try and bite back his smirk. Just lets it unfurl across his lips instead. “So, how’s your plan to woo Nancy coming along then?” He questions, lifting a brow.

Robin flushes and opens her mouth, then closes it with a snap and narrows her eyes at Steve. She picks up the nearest stack of new release tapes and shoves them into his chest. “Go put the stickers on these,” she grumbles.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve says, satisfied. 

Robin just scowls at him.

“Okay, best kind of movie for…” Robin pauses to think of something good, spinning herself in two full circles on the stool behind the counter before she figures it out, “when it’s dark and gloomy and cold outside,” she finishes.

“Mystery,” Steve shoots back. Noir films are some of Robin’s favorites, and what better time to watch them than when it’s all gray outside. It’s the perfect answer.

Eddie goes down a different path. “Fantasy,” he answers, drumming his fingers against the counter.

Robin purses her lips. Turns her eyes to the sky and strokes her chin with her forefinger and thumb. Spins another circle. “Steve wins,” she declares after a moment’s consideration.

“Hah!” Steve cheers, giving a little fist pump.

On the other side of the counter, Eddie throws his hands up and pouts. “Rigged!” He accuses.

Robin just laughs. “Not rigged,” she counters. “Fantasy is just way too cheerful for overcast weather.” She shrugs. “What’s gloomy about magic and princesses and fairies?”

Eddie’s hand flies up to clutch at his chest like Robin just shot him. Steve’s surprised he doesn’t throw himself dramatically to the ground too. Though he wouldn’t recommend that on these floors.

“I resent that that’s what you think fantasy is,” Eddie grumbles. “That’s, like, the watered down kiddie shit, Buckley. Not real fantasy. That can be dark as shit, let me tell you. Like in—”

“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with that nerdy ring book you and the gremlins are obsessed with, I will kick you out of this store,” Robin threatens, raising both her eyebrows at him as if challenging him to test her.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Robin, but closes his mouth. Smart man , Steve mentally commends.

Robin grins far too triumphantly, then kicks her foot out to connect with Steve’s thigh where he stands at the other end of the counter. “Your turn, dingus,” she says.

Steve makes a face at her shoe. “Okay, okay, best kind of movie to watch when you’re home alone,” he rattles off, nodding firmly after he says it.

“Indie romance,” Robin declares, hooking her feet over the bottom rung of the stool.

“You mean those, like, confusing artsy ones you’re always making us watch?” Steve questions, pursing his lips.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t count,” Eddie chimes in, giving Robin a pointed look. “You can’t be watching them alone if you’re making us suffer through them with you.” 

Robin rolls her eyes and pastes a brassy smile across her face. “You wouldn’t be suffering if you actually paid attention. They’re really not that hard to follow along,” she says. “But, seriously, watching it by myself means I don’t have to translate for you, the culturally and philosophically ignorant, and I can actually enjoy it, so yeah it absolutely counts.”

Eddie holds his hands up in surrender, then sweeps an upturned palm towards Robin to let her have it.

“What’s your answer, Munson?” Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow at him.

Eddie bounces on his toes, looking positively gleeful. “Obviously,” he starts, eyes flickering between Steve and Robin, holding them in suspense for a brief, brief moment before he leans forward on his hands and declares with his whole chest, “a porno .”

Steve barks out a surprised laugh, and Robin immediately slaps her hands over her ears, grimacing.

“Ew, ew, ew, gross !” She whines. “I should win on principle here!”

“Oh, don’t be a prude , Robin,” Eddie goads, grinning with all of his teeth. “Just picture it—”

“No, no, no!” Robin screeches. “I do not want to picture anything! Don’t make me picture anything!”

But that doesn’t stop Eddie. “Picture it,” he repeats, dropping his voice lower, smooth like honey, silken like chocolate, slow as syrup dripping down. “An empty house all to yourself. You don’t have to rush, you don’t have to be quiet, you don’t even have to lock yourself in your room—”

“Oh my god , Eddie, I’m never sitting on your couch again!” Robin shrieks.

It doesn’t even occur to Steve to be horrified by the fact that he’d been sitting on that very couch only a few days earlier. He’s way too busy trying to keep himself from fucking blushing here, which — jesus christ. What the hell. He’s never gotten embarrassed talking about sex before, never . But for some reason, right now, he’s seconds away from fucking exploding.

All because Eddie Munson is talking about porn and jerking off .

Jesus christ .

Maybe it really has been too fucking long. 

“You’ve got that tape you’ve been thinking about all day,” Eddie drawls, “the one you got last week that’s been hiding under your mattress, waiting for the perfect moment to come out and play, and now you finally have the chance to kick back, drop your drawers, and—”

“Enough, enough!” Robin shrieks, spinning the stool so her back is to both of them. She buries her face into her hands and shakes her head vehemently.

“Who the fuck calls underwear drawers ?” Steve questions, thankful for Robin’s interruption and eager to keep that train stopped at the station.

Eddie laughs and turns his eyes onto Steve. Big, brown, boundless. “Would you prefer I say panties ?” he questions.

Which sends Robin over the edge completely. She yelps and practically launches off of the stool, pressing herself up against the counter so she can reach across and try to shove her hand over Eddie’s mouth to shut him up. He’s good at dodging out of her way, laughing mirthfully as she gives up on that and redoubles her energy into pushing at his shoulders and arms to send him away.

He digs his heels into the floor, not budging one bit, and it isn’t long before Robin admits defeat, slinking back to her stool with a pout fixated on Eddie.

Eddie just grins at her and then drapes himself across the counter again, leaning in on his forearms. “What’s the verdict, oh exalted chancellor?” he asks, directing his attention towards Steve once more. “Who’s the winner?”

Steve’s gaze flickers between Eddie and Robin. He bites his lip. Pretends to drag out his ruling even though, really, the winner is clear.

“Sorry Robs,” he says after a moment, and Robin immediately drops her head back and groans, “I gotta go with Eddie here.”

Eddie gives a delighted whoop, and sticks his tongue out at Robin. “Stevie gets me,” he coos, angling his head back towards Steve. He lets the tips of his canines peek out from behind his lips, sharp and cutting, then winks right at Steve.

Steve’s stomach swoops inexplicably.

“Ugh, boys ,” Robin huffs, shaking her head.

“Now now,” Eddie says, lifting himself back onto his elbows. “My turn.” He folds his hands together beneath his chin and presses his mouth against the side of his fist as he thinks and thinks and thinks.

Then, “Ooh, okay, best kind of movie for when you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

“Action!” Robin and Steve both shout at the same time. They share a look, then burst into laughter, reaching over to high five each other. And just like that, Steve once again proves that he is the only one that can outlive a Robin Buckley Grudge. The perks of platonic soulmatism.

“Wow, okay,” Eddie says, snorting. “No contest there, huh.”

“Who doesn’t want to see shit blow up on a bad day?” Robin asks like it’s a no-brainer.

“Exactly,” Steve agrees, nodding along.

“Yeah, you got me there,” Eddie muses, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Obviously that was a tie,” Robin says. “And now it’s my turn again. Here’s a good one — best movie for a romantic date.” She sticks her elbows onto the counter and rests her chin against her upturned palms, eyes bouncing between Steve and Eddie. Behind her hands, she’s wearing a grin.

Steve doesn’t miss a beat. “Easy. Romance, duh,” he says.

“Romance?” Eddie repeats, giving Steve an unimpressed look. “Isn’t that a bit on the nose?”

“No,” Steve reconsiders, “Yes. Maybe. Whatever . Doesn’t matter. The point is, it works. You put on some sappy chick flick and you are guaranteed getting laid.”

Eddie snorts. “Guaranteed, huh?” He asks, quirking a brow.

“ Don’t ask him how he knows,” Robin interjects with a desperation that only comes from having made that mistake herself.

Steve ignores her and nods at Eddie. “Totally, man,” he says. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans a hip against the counter. “What’s your answer anyways? Fantasy again?” 

“Easy,” Eddie mimics, grinning. He pauses for dramatic effect, then, “Horror.”

“What?” Steve exclaims. It shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does.

“That certainly is a choice,” Robin comments, not bothering to hide her amusement.

“How the hell does horror beat out romance for best movie for a romantic date?” Steve demands. “In what world does that get you laid?”

“In my world,” Eddie replies, cool as a cucumber.

Robin snorts. “Eddie, aren’t you a v—”

“If you must know, Harrington,” Eddie barrels on loudly, smacking his palms flat onto the counter between them. He leans forward on them, fixing his big round eyes onto Steve as he searches his face for interest.

“I’m listening,” Steve encourages, waving a hand at him before tucking it back into the fold over his chest.

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Eddie says. “You see, horror is scary. What do people— what do girls want to do when they’re scared?” He waits a beat, bounces on his toes, then answers himself, “They want to look away . They want to hide . They want to run straight into the arms of the nearest big, strong man who can keep them safe.” He grins with all of his teeth. “And who better to fill that role than you ? Her very own knight in shining armor.”

“It’s foolproof, really,” Eddie finishes with a flourish, then steps back to take a little bow.

Robin makes a considering face, like Eddie’s answer is swaying her.

Steve regards it. And, well, he’s got to give it to Eddie, it’s a pretty good move. Pretty good, but not great. Not when there’s one glaring hole he didn’t seem to account for. Rookie mistake.

“What if she’s not scared?” Steve asks, lifting both of his eyebrows in a gotcha sort of way. 

But Eddie doesn’t fold like Steve expects. He doesn’t look too stumped or unsure of how to remedy that. 

No, he grins. Like he was just waiting for Steve to ask. Waiting for Steve to underestimate him. “That’s when you pretend that you’re the scared one. Show your sensitive side. Your vulnerability. That you’re a man who’s not afraid of his feelings,” he says.

It’s not a bad recovery. It’s a pretty great one, actually. Steve’s never tried that, either. He wonders if maybe Eddie has. Wonders if it actually worked for him.

“Alright, Munson, I’ll give it to you, you make a compelling argument,” Steve admits, holding his hands out.

Eddie rocks back on his heels, looking gleeful. “Oh, the great Casanova of Hawkins approves. Lucky me,” he comments slyly.

Steve flushes. “Where did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Eddie asks elusively, but his grin is sharp enough that Steve knows he’s got a source he’s just not going to give up.

Steve is almost positive that his source is snickering into her hand to his right.

“It’s a decent move,” he tells Eddie, “but I stand by the fact that there’s nothing romantic about blood and guts.”

“Says you,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve snorts. Of course he’d say that. 

“Besides,” Steve continues, “you can make those same moves with a good romcom. Be her shoulder to cry on. Her source of comfort. And you can still show your sensitive side by crying yourself.”

“Touché,” Eddie concedes.

“On that note, I’m declaring this round a tie too,” Robin chimes in, circling back to the game that started this whole line of conversation in the first place. 

Eddie starts to boo in earnest, and Steve laughs and joins in.

But before Robin can wave them off or tell them to suck it up, she’s not changing her mind, the front door jingles, signaling a customer.

Steve’s head snaps towards Robin at the same time that hers snaps towards him. She looks like she’s about to say something, but Steve cuts her off. “I got the last one,” he says. “It’s your turn to play employee.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but she knows Steve is right. With a heavy sigh, she slides off of the stool and pops out from behind the counter to go greet their guest and provide any assistance that may be needed.

“I totally won that,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve.

Steve scoffs. “No way, man,” he replies. “Robin said a tie.”

Eddie fixes him with an unimpressed look. “Come on, I know you know it wasn’t actually. She was only saying that so she didn’t crush your little feelings.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but the door jingles again, and Eddie’s head drops back in a hearty laugh that shakes his shoulders.

Steve’s face screws up in displeasure — he doesn’t want to go assist this new customer. Not when he could be talking to Eddie instead. But then he looks past Eddie’s shoulder towards the door and sees Janine waltzing inside.

“Oh, dude,” he says, hand flying out to smack Eddie in the chest. “It’s her.”

Eddie’s brow wrinkles, and he leans against the counter, angling his body towards the door so he can look for himself. “Her who?” He asks.

“ Her who ?” Steve repeats. “Janine. My target for the bet.”

Eddie cringes. “Target?” He repeats. “What are you a serial killer now? Jesus man.”

Steve makes a face like he sucked on a lemon. “Yeah, I know, I hated it as soon as I said it too,” he says, mouth twisting. “You know what I mean though. She’s who I’m asking out for Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah,” Eddie responds — or, acknowledges , really. Because he doesn’t offer up any other commentary than that. Which. That’s kind of what Steve was hoping for, the extra commentary. He wants Eddie’s read on her. Wants to know what he thinks.

“So?” Steve nudges, looking pointedly down his nose at Eddie.

“So what, Harrington?” Eddie asks.

“ So , what do you think?”

Eddie presses his lips together briefly, then says, “She’s… cute.”

Steve blinks. Waits a second to see if there’s anything else. Except — there’s not. There’s nothing else. “Cute? That’s it? Mr. I Can’t Usually Shut The Fuck Up suddenly has nothing to say but one word?” He asks. “How am I supposed to, like, know if I’m making some, like, huge mistake with her if that’s all you’ve got to say?” 

He pauses then, for a breath, but his eyes widen and he’s off again. “Oh, shit ,” he blurts. “ Is this you saying I’m making some sort of huge mistake? Are you being, like, purposefully brief to make a point? Shit.”

“Steve, Steve ,” Eddie says, holding his hands out. “Chill out, dude. I’m not— that’s not what’s happening here, relax. You’re not making some huge mistake. That I know of, anyways,” he adds with a cheeky, lopsided grin. “But seriously, she’s cute. Cute’s good, right?” He shrugs, smile softening, though there’s something a little… sad maybe, mixed in. Something a little melancholy. “You’re just asking her out on a date, right. Not, like, her hand in marriage or anything. So it’s fine. Besides, I don’t see why what I have to say about her matters that much. You’re the one that’s gotta take her out, man.”

Steve frowns. “Because it always matters,” he says, without hesitation. “Because you’re, like, my best friend. I— I care about what you think. Plus, y’know, you’re a more objective party, right?” He adds, trying to lighten things once more.

“Objective, right,” Eddie repeats, looking amused. Steve’s not quite sure what’s so funny, but that’s Eddie. Always laughing to the beat of his own drum or whatever.

Before Steve can question it, a flash of movement catches the corner of his eye, and he looks over to see Janine already making her way towards the counter, tape in hand.

Jesus, that was quick.

Sometimes Steve thinks she just grabs the first tape she sees, something totally random, which just confuses him, because if you’re going to pay to rent a movie, it might as well be one you actually want to watch, right? Even if you are just using it as an excuse to flirt with the employee behind the counter. It’s like with Eddie. He still chooses a movie he likes even though he mostly just comes in to be a nuisance to Steve and Robin.

But whatever. Steve doesn’t have time to debate the merits and non merits of renting random movies because Janine is walking right towards him.

“Shit, here she comes,” Steve says, straightening up. He reaches for his hair to ensure it’s falling artfully enough across his forehead.

Eddie snorts on the other side of the counter, then pats the top twice and starts to back away. “I’ll make myself scarce,” he says. “See you later?”

Janine falls from Steve’s mind for a moment. “What? You’re leaving?” He asks, unable to stop the frown from tugging his mouth down. “You don’t have to leave.”

Eddie presses his lips together and shrugs. “I don’t wanna be in the way,” he says. “You’ve got a lady to impress, right?”

“Dude, come on, you’re not in the way. She’s probably not even gonna be here long,” Steve insists, trying to keep Eddie here. “Just— don’t go far. Please.”

Eddie holds Steve’s gaze for a moment before he finally caves. “Fine, fine,” he says. He rounds the counter, moving towards the candy display. It’s out of the way of the front of the desk, but still close enough that he’s within earshot of the conversation Steve will have with Janine. For some reason, that makes Steve a little nervous. Eddie listening. He can’t fuck this up. Not in front of Eddie. That Casanova reputation of his counts on it or something. He’s got to be smooth as a… as a fucking dolphin or something.

Janine approaches the desk.

“Find everything okay?” Steve asks as she comes to a stop in front of the counter. He sends her a patented charming smile.

Her mouth curves up into her own receptive smile and she nods. “I did,” she tells him, setting her tape down and sliding it towards Steve. She’s wearing rings, Steve notices. Small and dainty, but there’s one on almost every finger. Her nails are painted a pale blue color.

Steve reaches for the tape and flips it to look at the cover. “Oh, Poltergeist ,” he comments, pursing his lips in approval. “You made a good choice here.”

Delight paints itself across her features. She raises a thin eyebrow. “Did I, now?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, definitely. I’ve seen it, like, five times.”

Janine laughs. “Must be your favorite then,” she says.

Steve laughs. It isn’t his favorite. Horror movies in general aren’t his favorite. But they are Eddie’s. And Poltergeist makes his top three, so naturally, that means that it’s his fault that Steve’s seen it so many times. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“You could say that,” he replies, aloof. “It’s a pretty cool movie. Lots of, like, neat history to it,” he tells her, echoing back something he remembers Eddie telling him once or twice or several times. His eyes briefly flicker towards Eddie, where he’s examining a box of Milk Duds with a downtrodden bend to his mouth that makes something twist in Steve’s gut.

Janine leans forward on her elbow. “Like what?” She asks, pulling Steve’s attention back. “Tell me something cool.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees. “So, like, in the movie, there’s this scene with some skeletons and—”

“Wait, wait! Don’t spoil it for me!” She cries, waving her hands at Steve. She’s laughing like he’s just made some silly mistake.

Steve ducks his head, playing up his sheepishness. “Sorry, sorry,” he laughs. “I was just going to say that there’s a rumor those skeletons are real ,” he finishes.

“That is quite a fact,” Janine replies.

“Yeah, pretty spooky,” Steve says. “You, uh, you have someone to watch it with?” He asks, thinking about what Eddie had said earlier. About horror movies and dates running straight into his arms. He’s fishing a little, too, obviously, but she takes the bait.

“Just myself,” she answers, giving a soft little sigh. “Why? Are you offering to protect me from the ghosts?” She questions in a teasing lilt.

“Maybe I am,” Steve flirts. “Y’know, I’ve been told I would make a pretty fetching knight in shining armor.”

A quiet huff sounds off from Steve’s left, and he has to stop himself from scowling at it. He does chance a short glance over, and the frown on Eddie’s face is more prominent this time. Steve really wants to ask if he’s okay.

Janine laughs, oblivious to it all, and reaches out to touch Steve’s arm. “I’m sure you would,” she says. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She offers him a sweet smile, then lets it turn wistful. “I’ve gotta run now, but I’ll see you around, Steve.”

She takes the tape and wiggles her fingers at him before she turns to leave.

“See you,” Steve calls back, watching her go.

The second she’s out the door he turns to Eddie. “So, maybe I can see the merit in your argument for horror,” he admits, which makes Eddie laugh. But it’s not that bellydeep one Steve loves so much. It comes out a little strangled, a little hollow. And his smile looks off — tight, with closed lips and no light behind his eyes. His dimples are nowhere in sight, too. 

“I’m sure yours would work on her, too,” Eddie tells him, voice lacking any of his usual inflection. “She seems pretty into you, man.”

Steve should feel pleased to hear that, should be delighted that he seems to be in the lead on the bet. But instead, it just settles heavy over him. Weighs on him. 

He doesn’t know what that means.

“Hey, so I know I said I’d stick around longer, but I actually gotta get going,” Eddie says then, pulling Steve back. His arm is up, like he’s looking at his watch, only he’d forgotten to put his watch on today, so his wrist is bare, and he just looks a little funny. His forehead is pinched, like he feels a little bad for his change of plans, but he’s sort of bouncing on his feet, like he’s antsy. Like he can’t leave fast enough.

“Wait, what? Already?” Steve asks, frowning at him.

“Yeah, sorry, dude,” Eddie says, offering him a half-hearted apologetic expression. “I, uh, I forgot I told Mike I’d meet up with him to go over his character sheet for the new campaign,” he tells Steve.

“Mike?” Steve asks, making a face. “But Mike wouldn’t shut up about his new character the entire ride home the other day, I thought he was already fini—

“See ya ‘round, Harrington,” Eddie interrupts, throwing him a wave before he turns briskly on his heel and marches towards the front door, exiting swiftly and without looking back once.

Steve, left in the dust and still trying to wrap his head around it all, can only stare blankly after him. What the hell just happened?

Steve never does figure it out. 

The next time he sees Eddie, only a few days later, there’s nothing about his behavior that suggests he even remembers that weird afternoon. He doesn’t mention it to Steve, and Steve doesn’t bring it up either. He’d much rather avoid Eddie retreating into his shell again. It was bad enough once.

So he decides to just let it go. Chalks it up to some off-kilter mood Eddie was in that day. And instead, Steve puts all of his focus back on the bet.

The bet that he is staring down the barrel of. 

Because time is ticking. The clock is running down. The hourglass is nearly empty.

Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. Tomorrow . And Steve still hasn’t asked Janine out. He doesn’t even have a good reason why. The groundwork has been more than laid at this point; all that’s left is the asking . It’s just that both times he’s seen her this week, he’s been on the verge of it, has been gearing up to go for it, only to totally freeze at the last second. The words clog in his throat, they get stuck on his tongue. He just can’t get them out.

He chalks it up to the timing not being right. 

But the thing is — it has to be right now. Because he is out of time. Today is his last chance.

Cool, cool, cool. That’s— that’s no big deal. He can totally do it. Kick his ass into gear, get his mind wrapped around it, whatever he’s got to do he’ll do it. He doesn’t have a choice, if he wants to win this bet. Because a last minute win is still a win, right?

Steve is behind the counter again, bouncing between attending to customers and making a dent in the rewind pile (because people love to not be kind and make him rewind). He’s kind of glad that it’s been busy, that he’s had things to keep him occupied, otherwise he’d be restless as hell right now.

He still looks up every time the bell chimes, no matter how distracted he is.

Steve is three hours into his shift when Janine finally does walk through the doors. That antsy feeling doesn’t get worse upon seeing her, but it doesn’t go away either. He thinks it’s because he’s nervous about asking her, even though he should have it in the bag.

They go through their usual song and dance; Janine disappears into the shelves to find a tape to rent, and Steve waits patiently at the counter for her to approach. When she does, she’s holding a romantic comedy. This time it is one of Steve’s favorites. Steve flirts while he rings her up. Janine flirts back. Things are looking good.

And then Steve slips the tape into a bag along with the receipt, return date circled in red pen. He passes it to her across the counter, and now is the perfect opportunity to ask. Except, his mouth stays shut. Curves into a smile instead.

“Thanks, Steve,” Janine says, accepting the bag. She dawdles, sliding each handle individually over her wrist, and Steve should be thankful for it. Her lingering. Because it means he hasn’t missed his opportunity, that it’s still there, that it’s being extended.

Except Steve still doesn’t say anything. He can’t .

So Janine takes things into her own hands. “Steve,” she says, placing her hands over the edge of the counter. She smiles like she has a secret and leans forward. “Do you want to take me to dinner tomorrow?”

At the same time, Eddie enters the store.

Steve’s eyes flicker up — his habit to check the door every time that bell rings — to find Eddie’s already looking his way. Their gazes meet, Eddie’s mouth ticks up, and Steve suddenly feels settled . Not like he’s going to itch out of his own skin. For the first time all day, he feels calm.

It’s then that Eddie notices that Steve is not alone, that he seems to realize who , exactly, it is with him, and the smile slips, his face starting to contort. Into what, though, Steve will never know, because in that moment, Robin pops up at Eddie’s side with an armful of tapes. She unloads half of them onto Eddie, who just looks ambushed instead, but follows her into the shelves anyways.

That was… weird.

But Steve can’t let himself get distracted. He has a bet to win. He takes a breath and focuses back on Janine, where she waits for his answer. 

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but what comes out surprises even him. “That’s really sweet, Janine, but, um, I— I can’t. Tomorrow. I, uh, already have plans. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know why he says it. Already have plans ? Steve doesn’t have plans! Not a single one! The whole point of this was to secure plans for tomorrow, so why the hell is he saying no ?

Janine looks surprised, too. A little off balance, like she hadn’t been expecting a rejection, like it’s thrown her for a loop. 

Steve feels bad; wants to tell her that he really had every intention of saying yes. Wants to laugh it off and say that he’s just kidding. But he just presses his lips together in an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry,” he tells her again.

That seems to shake her back to the present, and she gives him a sad but understanding smile. “It’s okay,” she says, and Steve is so grateful she’s being so cool about it. She really is sweet, he hates to have led her on. Even if it wasn’t his intention to.

She bites her lip, nose scrunching like she’s considering something. Then she reaches for the stray pen sitting on the counter and pulls her receipt from the bag. She scribbles something down, then pushes it towards Steve.

“Call me if you change your mind,” she says, smiling softly.

Then she turns and leaves. She doesn’t look back.

Steve picks up the receipt and smooths it out to see what she wrote. It’s her phone number. Her name is written above it in looping, swirly script, and a tiny heart dots the ‘i’. Steve crumples the receipt into a ball and drops it in the wastebasket below.

“ So ?” Robin demands from behind, and Steve spins around to see her and Eddie standing there with matching expectant expressions and the empty return cart parked between them. 

“We just saw her leave,” Eddie supplies. “What does Buckley owe you?”

Robin’s elbow jabs into Eddie’s ribs. “How did it go?” She asks Steve.

Steve chuckles and presses his lips together as he looks between them. Wonders how he should even answer. He knows if he tells them exactly what happened they’ll have questions. Questions he does not have answers to. He’s not so sure he likes the idea of Robin psychoanalyzing him to decipher what that could possibly mean, either. And Eddie… it would be pretty embarrassing to try and explain his failure to him.

The kids’ mantra rings through his brain — friends don’t lie . Steve shoves it aside. He… he’ll tell them the truth. Just not right now. Eventually. After he figures out what the hell happened and why.

“Robin, uh, she doesn’t owe me anything,” Steve finally tells them.

“ What ?” Robin practically shrieks, ditching the cart to sidle right up to Steve, eyes wide and unblinking as she fixes them on him. “She said no ?”

The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch — briefly, fleetingly, a blink and you miss it kind of thing. But Steve doesn’t blink. Steve doesn’t miss it. He sees it, sees the way Eddie quickly directs his mouth into something more commiserative. A little frown that he aims right at Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve says, trying to infuse a little bit of disappointment into his voice, even though he doesn’t really feel any. “She, uh, already had plans. I guess I waited too long.” He presses his lips together and gives a shrug.

“Shit man,” Eddie says, still standing beside the cart. His hip is popped, fingers curled around the handle to prop himself up, thumb tapping an absent pattern against the metal. “That sucks.”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah,” he agrees, just to keep up appearances. 

Robin slides her arm around Steve’s waist, tucking herself into his side. She leans her head onto his shoulder and peers up at him through her bangs. “I don’t want to say I told you so…” she trails off, mouth quirking.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you told me so,” he says, letting her have this. He drops his arm around her shoulders and tips his head against hers. “So what happens now that we both lost the bet?” He asks.

Robin shifts against his side, spine straightening just enough that Steve notices. She scuffs the sole of her shoe against the floor and twists the rings on her fingers, spinning each one around twice before moving on to the next. Her eyes flicker away from Steve, then back again.

It takes a second for the dots to connect. But when they do, any and all mixed feelings about Steve’s own half of the bet all but disappear as he turns to face Robin fully, eyes wide. “Holy shit ,” he breathes, giddy excitement thrumming through his veins. “No way . No fucking way .”

Robin bites down on her lip, trying desperately to hold back a grin, but she’s failing, she’s failing so bad because it’s already started to leak out through the sides, pulling her mouth up against her own will and crinkling her eyes.

“You did it?” Steve asks, grabbing onto her shoulders. “You actually did it ?”

The suspense lasts for all of two more seconds before sunlight practically bursts across her face and she squeezes her own cheeks between her hands, nodding vigorously. “ I did it !” She finally cries.

Steve lets out a whoop, drawing the attention of a few customers still browsing around, but he doesn’t even care. He lets his hands drop down to Robin’s elbows where he grabs on. She grabs his right back, and the two of them start jumping right there in the middle of the store, happiness and excitement overflowing out of them like a busted faucet.

A low chuckle spills from Eddie, where he’s watching them with a fond expression on his face, and Robin breaks their two person circle so she can snag Eddie by the hand and pull him into it.

“Hell yeah, Buckley!” He cries, letting himself get dragged in.

They flail around for a few more seconds before Steve slows them to a stop so he can demand the full story.

“Okay, don’t leave us hanging here, Robin. What happened?” Steve asks, and almost immediately a slew of follow up questions flood his brain. “Where did it happen? When did it happen? Oh my god, have you been sitting on this?”

Robin laughs and shakes her head. Then pauses. Gives Steve a sheepish smile. “No, I— well, okay, maybe— maybe yes . But only for, like, a couple of days, I swear!” She says, clutching onto Steve’s arm when he sends her a scandalized look at the admission. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me for that because I was being a good friend! You were… in the zone, or whatever you call it, and I was just trying to play fair here.”

Steve, of course, isn’t actually mad at her. In fact, he’s kind of impressed she managed to keep it from him for that long. Robin is good at keeping her secrets, but Steve is like her kryptonite. She always tells him everything sooner or later.

“And maybe I wanted to be able to surprise you with my win after you thought you got yours,” Robin adds with a grin. Devious. “Anyways, it happened on Tuesday, when I spent the night at Nance’s place,” she starts.

Eddie waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, you spent the night, Buckley, you sly dog.”

Robin squawks and her cheeks turn pink. “Not like that!” She cries.

“But you want it to be like that,” Steve chimes in, never one to pass up the opportunity to tease Robin. “You so want to see Nancy’s boo—”

“Do you want to hear how this went or not?” Robin interrupts, flashing stern eyes at Steve and Eddie.

The pair of them share a look, but zip their lips so that she can continue.

“We were just hanging out, y’know, listening to music, painting each other’s nails — total girls night stuff,” Robin continues. “Um, Nance was doing mine, and she, like, had one of my hands in hers, and she—” Robin laughs, soft, fluttery, “— she gets this look on her face, when she’s concentrating. It’s, like, she sort of pouts? And she gets this little crease between her eyebrows and her nose sort of wrinkles up. It’s— it’s really cute,” she admits.

And Steve can’t help but crack a smile at that. He knows the very expression she’s talking about, the one Nancy would always get whenever Steve was helping her study, or whenever she was trying to puzzle something out. It is cute.

Robin bites her lip and shakes her head and says, “I, oh my god, I wasn’t thinking at all , and I just sort of, like— I told her that . Just opened my big fat mouth and said, ‘You look so cute like that.’ and I didn’t even mean to . But, Nancy— she giggled , and oh my god, it was the cutest sound I’ve ever heard. And she blushed too, like full on, unmistakable red cheeks. And then she said ‘You know, you’re pretty cute too.’. And Steve, Steve —” Robin’s eyes are huge as she fixes them right on him, “— I think I died and went to heaven. I’m not even kidding. I think I stopped breathing. And I was just like, ‘You think I’m cute?’ and Nancy was like, ‘The cutest.’ The cutest !

“And she was, like, so close all of the sudden, and she was looking right at me, and I was staring right back at her, because how could I not be, y’know? And, like, I think your spirit possessed me or something— like that’s got to be possible with all the weird shit we’ve seen right? ‘Cause, like, I can’t think of any other way to explain it because the next thing I knew I was kissing her, Steve, kissing her ! Me! Robin Buckley, kissing Nancy Wheeler! She didn’t kiss me, I kissed her !”

“That’s all you, Robs,” Steve enthuses. “I knew you had it in you.” She’s always been braver than she’s given herself credit for. Spitting in the face of evil Russians, following Steve through that watergate, kissing Nancy Wheeler first .

“She kissed you back, right?” Eddie asks, prompting Robin to continue.

Robin nods. Nods so hard it’s got to hurt her neck. But that doesn’t even seem to register to her, she’s way too happy. “She did. And, holy shit, she’s such a good kisser. Like, I get what all the fuss is about now, with kissing, I mean.” Robin makes twin exploding gestures on either side of her head and adds in the matching sound effects. “When we split, I just asked her— I said, ‘Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?’ and you know what she said back?”

“What did she say back?” Steve asks.

“She said ‘I do now. With you.’,” Robin says, widening her eyes and pressing her lips together and squealing from the back of her throat. “So, I have a date tomorrow. With Nancy Wheeler.”

“And you won the bet,” Eddie adds with a grin.

“And I won the bet,” Robin laughs. “Sorry, Steve,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

And Steve isn’t either. He knows how worked up over her crush on Nancy she’d been. How worried she was that Nancy wouldn’t feel the same and that if she told her about her feelings it would ruin things between them. Steve had tried to reassure her that that wouldn’t happen, but Robin was a worrier by nature. Not even logic could pierce through her mind once it’s been locked into one way like that.

But she doesn’t have to worry anymore. Because Nancy knows. Nancy knows and it didn’t ruin anything . It did the opposite of ruin things — it made everything a thousand times better. Because Nancy likes her back. And Nancy kissed her back. And now they’re going on a date. The first of many, Steve’s sure.

He would lose the bet a million times over if it means that Robin finally gets to have this. God knows she deserves it — that they both deserve it, her and Nancy.

“Robin, I’m so happy for you,” Steve gushes, pulling Robin in for a hug. 

“Thanks, Steve,” Robin says into his neck, hugging back just as tight. When they break apart a moment later, Robin punches him gently on the shoulder. “You put up a good fight, champ,” she says.

Steve chuckles. “There’s no one else I’d rather lose to,” he tells her sincerely.

Robin smiles at him. “So what are you gonna do tomorrow since things didn’t work out today?” She asks.

Steve leans back against the counter and sighs softly. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging. He’s never been dateless on Valentine’s Day like this. It’s not like he has a normal routine for it. It isn’t until that very moment that he starts to think that maybe he made a mistake, turning Janine down like that. Because Valentine’s Day? All alone? That kind of fucking sucks. And even though he’s apparently not as into Janine as he thought he was, they still could have had a good time.

“Shit,” Steve says, laughing humorlessly. “It’s just me, myself, and I, so I guess I’ll just, like, I don’t know, rent a couple of movies and order a pizza or something. Stay in. Pretend like it’s just another day.”

He tries not to think about how pathetic that sounds. How the mighty have fallen, right?

A hand curls around the ball of his shoulder, and Steve looks up to see Eddie in front of him, giving him a soft smile. “It is just another day, man,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. Your plan sounds great, anyways. You gotta give yourself a little bit of love too every once in a while, right?”

And, well, Eddie makes a good point. Steve can’t exactly remember the last time he took a day just for himself. Maybe this is the kick in the ass he needs to do that for once.

Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s. “Maybe you can rent one of those movies we talked about the other day,” he suggests, and his mouth twists wryly. “Y’know, the ones you can only watch when you’re home all alone.”

“No!” Robin shouts immediately, shoving her fingers into her ears, just like she did the last time it came up. “Not again!”

Steve laughs, ignoring the flop of his stomach — at what? He’s not so sure. 

What he is sure about, though, is that he feels lighter now. Less like he’s missed some grand opportunity. More like he’s got a whole slew of them ahead.

Tomorrow won’t be so bad after all.

Someone is knocking. It’s nearing six P.M. on Valentine’s Day and someone is knocking — no, pounding , on the door like the world is about to end.

Steve hopes to god that isn’t the case.

Just about everyone he knows is supposed to be on a date this evening, so he’s wracking his brain trying to think of who it could possibly be. Steve’s best guess is one of the kids, probably with some sort of super extra last minute wrench in their plans, and he silently prays to whoever, whatever is listening that he’s not about to have to play host and chef and waiter to some awkward teenage dinner date. 

He’ll do it, if he has to, but god he hopes he doesn’t have to.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He shouts as he rounds the corner, only hurrying so he can make it stop . “Jesus christ, where’s the fucking fire ,” he mutters as he yanks open the door to come face to face with—

“Eddie?” Steve blurts, brow wrinkling in confusion as he takes in the man standing on his porch, fist still raised mid-knock.

His arms falls back to his side, fingers loosening from their ball and he smooths his palm against the side of his jeans. Light wash, Steve notices, not the usual black. They’re softer. And they fit Eddie’s legs well. There’s no holes in the knees either. They—

“Steve, hey,” Eddie says, drawing Steve’s attention back up. And, jesus, what the hell was that?

“Eddie,” Steve repeats. “Are you— did I forget about plans or something?” He asks, playing back the conversation from the day before in his head. They’d talked about how Steve was going to spend the day, but he doesn’t remember Eddie offering to do anything with him. He’s positive he wouldn’t have missed that.

Eddie shakes his head, a lopsided little smile curling onto his mouth. “Nah, no plans,” he says. “It’s just— you said something yesterday about being all alone today? And, well, turns out I’m all alone today too, so—” he hoists a pizza box Steve hadn’t even noticed up, and the plastic bag hooked around his wrist swings, the weight of the spoils inside pulling it down to the crook of Eddie’s elbow, “— I figured we could be alone together, y’know?”

“Oh,” Steve says, still trying to wrap his head around it. That Eddie is here. That Eddie wanted to spend his evening with Steve. His Valentine’s Day evening. Steve… well, he doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“I brought candy,” Eddie says, flapping his elbow so the bag swishes again, the candy inside rustling against the plastic, “and a couple of movies,” he continues with a waggle of his eyebrows, “and pizza,” he finishes. He reaches over to pull the top open, tilting it down just enough for Steve to get a peek of the pie.

Steve takes a look at it and smiles, tilting his head to the side. “It’s heart shaped?” He scrunches his nose. “I didn’t know the local place did that.”

Eddie shrugs, real casual like, then says, “They, uh, they don’t, actually. This one’s sort of… sort of homemade. Or, like, maybe not home made, ‘cause there’s no way I’d be able to make a pie this big in the trailer. The Byers’ let me use their kitchen. Uh, Argyle, Jon’s friend, y’know? He kind of helped me out. It is not fucking easy trying to make a pizza look like a god damn heart, man,” he laughs, breezes a hand through his hair, only it gets caught halfway down and he has to shake it loose. His cheeks are pink, and he chews on his lip as he looks at Steve through his lashes.

“But you did,” Steve says, eyes flickering over the pizza once more. It’s a little lopsided, the right half of the heart slightly bigger than the left and kind of sagging down, but it is distinctly heart shaped.

“I did,” Eddie confirms. “And, uh, it’s your lucky day,” he adds.

Steve quirks a brow. “It is?”

Eddie nods, grin turning sharp. “Oh yeah,” he says, then twists around so Steve can get a good view of his… ass? What?

It takes a second for Steve to realize that there’s something sticking out of Eddie’s back pocket. Oh. His repurposed altoid tin, the one he likes to keep his pre-rolled joints in. Oh .

“Mary Jane does house calls,” Eddie says wolfishly, and Steve snorts hard.

“Jesus, dude, don’t say it like that,” he laughs. “You make it sound like we hired a prostitute or something.”

Eddie cackles, throwing his head back. “We would never , Stevie,” he says, faux scandalized. Then, “So are you gonna let us in or what?”

Steve huffs out a laugh, but steps back so Eddie can push past him into the house.

Eddie makes a beeline for the living room and deposits his goodies onto the coffee table. He digs through the plastic bag, pulling out a couple of tapes and a small package of chocolates. He tosses the chocolates to Steve with a grin, then brings the tapes over to the television set.

He opts for one of the horror movies he brought. “ The Thing ,” he tells Steve, waving the tape box over his shoulder for Steve to see. “It’s one of my favorites, you’re gonna love it.”

Steve scrunches his nose, not so sure about that. But he’d watch anything Eddie likes, so he doesn’t complain. Just settles on the couch, pulling his legs up under himself.

Once the tape is in, Eddie joins him on the couch, squishing in right next to Steve. The couch is pretty big, with plenty of room for the two of them to share without getting all up in each other’s personal space. But Eddie’s never been one for personal space to begin with, and Steve likes it better this way. Eddie is warm next to him, the cozy red sweater he’s wearing instead of his usual band tee soft, and Steve doesn’t shy away from leaning into his touch.

While the movie plays, they end up splitting a joint — one that Eddie somehow managed to roll with a heart shaped filter, in the spirit of festivity he’d explained when Steve noticed — and when that’s finished, the pizza. They forgo plates entirely, just eating right out of the box. Steve doesn’t even care that the couch is very white and the pizza sauce is very not.

The movie is… it’s fucking creepy. Unsettling in a way that makes Steve clutch at one of the decorative pillows on the couch, and gross in a way that has him squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into Eddie’s shoulder next to him.

“Hey, I’m gonna get something to drink,” Eddie says after the end credits start to roll. He sits up, jostling Steve a little as he does. “You want anything?”

Steve shifts against Eddie, lifting his head from Eddie’s shoulder. “Yeah, there should be some beer in the fridge,” he says.

Eddie nods and disentangles himself from Steve, patting his knee with a soft smile before he scoots off to the kitchen.

Steve stares after him with this gooey little smile, and once Eddie disappears from view, he sinks back into the couch and lets out a happy sigh.

God, today is turning out so much better than he thought it would be. It’s— it’s probably the best Valentine’s Day he’s ever had, which is crazy , because he doesn’t even have a date. But sitting here, sharing a joint and homemade pizza and watching Eddie’s favorite movies with him? It’s perfect. It’s so much better than taking some girl out to a fancy, uppity restaurant and paying for overpriced popcorn and candy at the movie theater.

Why would he want to do that when he can do the exact same thing right here at home with his best friend? When it’s so much better because he can relax, and get comfortable, and cuddle up to Eddie, and—

Wait a second.

Cuddle up to Eddie. While they watch a horror movie. One that scares Steve. Enough that he has to turn to Eddie for comfort.

Holy shit .

Is Eddie using his horror movie move on him?

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he sits up straighter, wild eyes flying towards the kitchen. He can still hear Eddie rummaging around the drawers, probably looking for a bottle opener.

He takes a moment to run it all back through his mind.

Eddie showing up today, Valentine’s Day , to hang out with Steve. To spend the evening alone together . The pizza he brought, that he put so much time and effort into making, into shaping like a god damn heart , like a god damn romantic . The candy, the weed, the movies.

The lack of disappointment Steve had about not scoring a date with Janine. The way he hadn’t even been interested in her before the bet. The— shit , the uncanny similarities between her and Eddie, with the hair and the eyes and the rings and the smile (which was close, but not close enough. How could it be without the dimples?). The way it had only been after Eddie walked in that Steve had even made the unconscious decision to reject her.

Holy shit .

It hits him then. All at once. Like a ton of fucking bricks.

He didn’t want to go out with Janine because he wants to go out with Eddie instead.

Steve’s gut feels all fluttery, his heart is hammering in his chest, his palms are sweaty where they rest against his thighs.

He likes Eddie.

And he thinks Eddie might feel the same.

He’d called Steve hot, and nice, and basically a total catch, hadn’t he? And he’d acted so odd that time that Steve pointed Janine out to him, making up an excuse to leave right away. And he always got extra fidgety whenever Steve brought her up, too. And that look on his face, the one that came right after Steve delivered the news of his “strikeout”; it had been almost hopeful before he’d schooled it into something more sympathetic.

That… that has to mean something.

Holy fucking shit.

Eddie returns with two beers, holding them up with a triumphant little smile on his face as he walks back over. He hands Steve his, but Steve just takes it and sets it on the coffee table without even cracking it.

He turns to face Eddie, eyes wild, and blurts out, “Do you like me?”

“Wh-what?” Eddie stammers out, blinking back at him with his own big big eyes. “Uh, of— of course I like you, Steve. You’re my best friend, too, you know.”

Steve’s already shaking his head, though. “Not like that, I mean. I— do you like me, Eddie?”

But he doesn’t give Eddie the chance to answer. Or, knowing him, to freak out anymore.

“Because I… I didn’t know until—” he laughs, breathless, “— like, just now. Or, I didn’t realize until now. But I— I do . Like you.” Only, as he says that, it doesn’t feel right. Like . It’s… it’s not enough. His feelings are so much stronger than that. They’re probably closer to— oh . 

He laughs again, drunk on putting a name to it and positively giddy from the feeling. “Actually, I’m, hah, I’m kind of, like, half in love with you, I think? Which is—” Steve makes an explosion gesture up by his head, “— crazy , I know. Like, how can you be in love with someone you’re not even dating?

“I don’t know, I don’t know, but I— I am. And it just, shit, it totally crept up on me. I couldn’t even like, try to, to not be, y’know? Not that I want to. I— shit, Eddie, I— I love feeling this way. And I— I don’t want to read things wrong, but it feels… it feels like maybe… you are too? That you like me too, at least? And I—”

He doesn’t get to finish the thought because Eddie’s hands are suddenly on his face, and his mouth is suddenly on Steve’s. Cutting him off with a kiss .

When he pulls back, his smile is radiant and his dimples pop so deeply in his cheeks. He shakes his head and says, “You’re not reading anything wrong, Steve. I’m half in love with you too. Maybe even fully.”

Steve’s heart leaps in his chest, and a giddy little laugh tumbles out and he drops his forehead against Eddie’s, catching his breath as a grin spreads. “Good, good .”

Eddie bumps his nose into Steve’s as he presses his forehead back, then laughs. “I’m gonna, hah, I’m gonna sound like a total asshole for saying this,” Eddie says, “but I’m kind of glad that girl didn’t say yes when you asked her out.”

Steve blushes, ducking his head. He laughs a little then, sheepish, and looks back up at Eddie through his lashes. “Oh,” he says, amusement toying at his lips. “She, uh, she didn’t actually say no,” he admits.

There’s a beat and Eddie’s face twists up. “Huh?”

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah, she, uh, didn’t say no because I didn’t ask her.” He pauses, bites his lip, then, “ She asked me . And, uh, I said no.”

Eddie blinks. “You— why did you do that?”

Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand, cradling it in his own. He traces a pointer finger over the lines of Eddie’s palm. “Because there was someone else I wanted to go on a date with more,” he answers.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. Then, shyly, “Me?”

“ Yes , you,” Steve replies, reverent. “Like I said before, I— I didn’t realize that’s what it was. But it was. It is . It’s— I’m kind of crazy about you, Eddie.”

“Jesus, I’m crazy about you ,” Eddie breathes out, twisting his hand in Steve’s so their palms line up and he can tangle his fingers with Steve’s and use his newfound leverage to pull him in again.

Their lips meet again, and it’s just as sweet as the first time. Maybe even sweeter now. The kiss curls Steve’s toes in the best way, sends a cozy warmth through his veins that settles deep in his bones.

When they pull apart, Eddie quirks a brow. “You wanna smoke another joint and watch another movie? We can watch one of those cheesy romances you love so much.”

Steve grins. “Only if that means I get to be the one to wrap you up in my arms this time,” he jokes.

Eddie wriggles into Steve’s space and tucks himself up under Steve’s arm, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Mm, I’d love a turn to be wrapped up in your big strong arms,” he says, curling his fingers around Steve’s bicep.

Steve laughs and reaches up to take Eddie’s hand in his own instead, threading their fingers together. He squeezes softly, then lifts it to his lips so he can press a kiss to Eddie’s knuckles.

After that he lets go of Eddie just long enough for him to hop up and pop the next movie into the VHS player. He’s back in no time, crowding into Steve’s space as he settles in right where he belongs: snuggled up to Steve with an arm around his waist and his head on Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, pulling him close. He dips down to drop a kiss to the top of his head, because he can, and lets a happy smile curl onto his mouth. “Happy Valentine’s day, Eddie,” he says softly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve,” Eddie responds sweetly, dimples digging deep indents into his cheeks.

And as the opening credits to Grease (Steve’s favorite, Eddie remembered) start to roll, Steve can’t help but think, he may not have won the bet with Robin, but he certainly won something.