Work Text:
December 1986
Steve never understood why his parents didn’t like him. He never understood what it was about him that made a lot of people not like him, actually.
He remembers only a little from his childhood, only a fraction of it is good. He remembers long nights hiding under the covers and trying to keep his parents from noticing him.
Being noticed meant being hurt.
Some days were better than others, a few times he could even say his mother was a good mom. He has memories of his mother talking to him sweetly in italian, “Sei così bello mio caro ragazzo.” She would say, petting his hair as he looks up at her with wide eyes.
A time before he became old enough to form a personality that made them hate him.
“La mamma ti vuole bene Stefano , il mio Angelo!”
His mother always insisted on calling him Stefano when his father was not there to hear, the name that is legally his is Stephen, but to him? He is Stefano Angelo Harrington. It’s one of his only connections to his mother.
He would stumble through his words, trying his best to speak his mother’s tongue, to tell her: “Ti voglio bene mamma!” and she would lean down to kiss him and praise him.
He doesn’t have those memories with his father. He remembers being treated cruelly and being berated for not doing chores when he never got asked to. He would get yelled at because, “He’s not a fucking kid, he shouldn’t have to be told when to do something.”
Steve never understood why he just needs to know when something has to be done, so when Eddie comes home one day after Steve has been home all day, there is a conflict.
“Steve, what did you do all day?”
“Um? I worked on assignments for class and um. Re-read my book.” Steve has been really interested in this book recently.
“ And you didn’t think to do any of the chores we need done ?” Eddie says and Steve knows that Eddie probably doesn’t even mean it to sound the way it does, he’s probably stressed from work and tired, expecting to come home to a clean home and when Steve looks around their apartment under Eddie’s scrutinizing gaze? It isn’t clean.
“Oh.”
“Oh? That's all you have to say- Jesus Steve. Fine, it’s fine, I'll do it.”
Steve and Eddie really are two sides of the same coin. Eddie gets overwhelmed in messiness that is dirty, even though his personal places stay pretty messy, he prioritizes keeping his space clean because of years in a small trailer, being messy and leaving things to become dirty wasn’t an option. Steve prioritizes things he enjoys over cleaning, he likes cleaning a lot but he prefers to do things when they become a problem, it’s a shitty habit of living years alone in a too-big house.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve , not baby, or sweetheart or any of the sweet names Eddie has come up with for him.
Eddie is mad at me.
Steve feels his breathing constrict as he watches Eddie move around the apartment cleaning, he doesn’t see Eddie, he sees his father, his mother.
“Do you want- do you want me to help? Eds?”
“Just keep doing whatever you’re doing.” Eddie says, (his mother says), and sighs.
Steve is, contrary to what people think, an extremely emotional person. It’s easy to hurt his feelings and make him hurt, it’s easy to find his weak spots and what hurts him most. Eddie wears his heart on sleeve but Steve wears it around his neck, free for the taking.
Steve doesn’t respond, just slowly and quietly stands up, makes his way to their bedroom on wobbly legs and only lets the tears slip out once he’s wrapped up in bed, holding Eddie’s pillow to his chest and breathes in his boyfriend’s comforting scent.
(Cheap cologne and weed, like antiseptic from the parlor and strawberry shampoo.)
Nightmares are not a foreign concept to Steve, he’s had his fair share of Upside Down related nightmares over the years but he hasn’t had a nightmare that wasn’t about the Upside Down in a while. This one is about his dad.
He’s a kid, maybe eight or nine, he doesn’t know if this is a memory or a figment of his imagination, maybe it’s a combination of both, a warped version of what has happened to him as a child.
He doesn’t know if this nightmare is worse than the true memory or if his brain is trying to protect him from the pain of how bad it truly was.
He’s sitting at the dinner table with his parents, on a rare occasion that they’re home. His father’s words are muffled, he might be crying. They’re almost done eating and he can feel fear coiling in his gut, because he has to have done something wrong. He knows for sure when his father stands up and hits him across the face before pulling him into the living room and pulling off his belt. Steve is begging him not to, “Please- dad- please don’t! I didn’t mean to-“
His father is giving him a list of things he needs to do and he can already feel them slipping from his mind, when his father flings him toward the couch he-
“Steve?”
Steve wakes up with a gasp, he pushes at the hands on his forearms and squeezes his eyes shut. “Stop- please I’m sorry dad- I didn’t mean to! I’ll get better I promise- Dad please-“
“Baby- please I need you to open your eyes.”
That isn’t dad’s voice. That isn’t the smell of his hundred dollar cologne.
Steve opens his eyes cautiously, his chest heaving. Steve watches as Eddie pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed as Steve heaves himself up into a sitting position.
Steve eyes Eddie as the older man situates himself.
Steve sighs deeply, “I’m sor-“ He starts but is cut off by Eddie, “I’m sorry. Baby.”
“What?”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
Steve doesn’t respond for a moment, looking down at his hands. He looks up at Eddie who smiles sweetly and before he knows it he’s shooting up to straddle Eddie’s lap. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso and squeezes. Eddie falters for a moment, but he rests his hands on Steve’s hips. Steve squeezes Eddie’s thighs with his legs, and buries his head into Eddie’s neck.
“‘S okay.” He mumbles into Eddie’s neck and squeezes.
Eddie squeezes him back and pulls away to cradle Steve’s face in his hands, to kiss him and rest his forehead against Steve’s.
“D’you wanna talk ‘bout it?”
Steve hesitates, “No, I don’t. Not now.”
“Okay, baby. Okay.”