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It doesn't take long for both of them to notice.
The thing is - both Eddie and Steve are fairly observant guys, Steve with his constant concern for everyone's well-being but his own and Eddie's survival being dependent on recognizing when quiet contempt and judging is about to transcend into physical violence or lynching, the good ol' American small town tradition that Hawkins always seemed on verge of.
So yes, observing other people isn't exactly new for them, but now that they were discharged from the hospital ("They made me eat vegetables, Wayne!" "They also kept you alive so that's a win in my book, boy!"), they soon notice that while their bodies were patched up and healed as well as possible, the same can't be said for their minds.
They have been spending a lot of time together, with Nancy and Robin now gone for college. Steve sometimes wonders why it is that all of his best friendships, bonds for life, come from the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but maybe he shouldn't complain so much - the universe decided to drag him through blood, pain, tears and lots of concussions, but then remembered maybe he should get something good too, so it tossed Dustin, Robin and Eddie at him, his little brother, his soulmate and...
And Eddie. Someone he used to scoff at, maybe feel some disdain for or even jealousy, but now...
Steve has always been predictable. He throws himself into danger, takes all the responsibility he can because that's what grounds him. It's easy to keep it together when everyone else is freaking out - you simply need to, there's no other choice. Now that Robin and Nancy are gone and the kids are way more preoccupied with high school and their own healing, Steve doesn't have anyone to keep it together for. Anyone but Eddie.
But that's not really all, is it? Because Eddie makes him laugh, makes him feel at ease and Steve kind of hates himself for it, for not being alert enough in his presence because he's supposed to keep Eddie safe, but he just makes him relax so much, he jokes around but doesn't cross his boundaries and Steve just doesn't know anymore-
So yes, they notice things about each other fairly quickly, but talking about it? That's a whole separate can of worms. "And I have a warehouse full of these worm cans, Steve, take your pick."
When they finally bring it up, it's April of 1987, close to the end of academic school year. Eddie has finally graduated and started working odd jobs, not paying well but at least legal, Steve still rewinding tapes in Family Video and going through potential career options, dragging Eddie into the endless pile of leaflets, articles and even some study programs. "We won't be stuck here forever," he tells Eddie and there is a glint in Eddie's eye, something that clutches at Steve's chest and whispers you will get him out of here. You will make him happy, in any way he allows.
Eddie hands Steve a leaflet about part-time sports coach position. "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to," snickers Eddie and leans back in his chair. "And about every woman in Hawkins wants you to as well, those shorts were sinful, I tell you. But seriously...you'd be great at it. You have a way with kids and you were pretty good in high school, no?"
Steve chuckles with him, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Not when he sees that one of the requirements is leading swimming lessons. "I...I don't think that's a good fit," he admits quietly, almost ashamed. "It's not like you're wrong, those shorts did look good on me," he admits and elicits another snicker from Eddie, "but...I don't think I could do all they want me to do."
Eddie frowns, not at Steve but in contemplation, and takes the leaflet back, his eyes impatiently scanning the text. "...oh," he breathes out and gives Steve an apologetic smile. "The pool thing?"
Steve nods and presses his lips together, hoping the words will stay in, but that's just Eddie's strange spell. Steve wants him to know, wants him to know everything, not just the pretty parts of himself. "The pool thing. It's fucking stupid, you know. I thought that I survived all of it, but...I guess some parts of me died too. Which sounds way too dramatic, but I haven't been able to just...live. It's like my life is a minefield now and I've been trying to avoid where they're buried..."
He glances at Eddie and swallows, his throat tight. "Sorry. That sounds so melodramatic, especially saying it to a guy who actually nearly died. I don't know where that came from, please just...just ignore I said anything. But yeah, I don't think I could do the coach thing."
Eddie is quiet for a moment and Steve thinks that maybe he messed things up. Maybe he showed too much of himself, like he always does, maybe he's finally managed to chase Eddie away but then those long, calloused fingers are on his shoulder, squeezing him, grounding him.
"I won't ignore that, Steve," says Eddie and Steve hates how sad he looks, wonders if it would be awkward to hug him, to offer comfort that he himself doesn't know.
"I won't ignore that because I get it," continues Eddie and Steve doesn't think, he covers Eddie's hand with his own. "Why do you think I mostly do night shifts or work in warehouses, restocking or whatever? Why I stay inside most of the time?"
Shame and insecurity now gone, Steve strokes his fingers along Eddie's knuckles. "I've noticed and...I have my theory. But I didn't want to bring it up. Didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
Tilting his head back, Eddie laughs and Steve's heart beats faster at the sound. "You could never. But maybe it's good to...to say it out loud. I think we're kind of dancing around it, trying to ignore the stuff that we're dealing with, but maybe it would help. Maybe admitting it will help us figure out how to handle it? Because to be completely honest with you, Steve - I hate it. I hate pretending that everything is over when it fucking isn't."
As if Steve could ever say no to those dark, trusting eyes. "Okay, let's try."
At first, the words don't come and when they do, they are aborted and unclear, but gradually, they start flowing and when they do, they don't stop. They spend the whole evening talking about it, finding the right expressions to explain what the Upside Down took from them.
Steve shudders and grows rigid whenever he hears running or splashing water. From the movie nights and unspoken sleepovers they have, Eddie knows Steve only takes showers now, short and almost scorching, and never runs a bath for himself, no matter how stiff and painful his muscles are. The floating sensation of water used to bring him comfort, but now it is replaced by the memory of being grabbed and dragged under the surface, air leaving his lungs, his head ringing with pressure...
Eddie's breathing quickens and panic sets in whenever he hears flapping of wings. He knows that demobats are no longer in Hawkins, he knows that they're gone along with their master, but he can't help it, he never feels safe outside, can't raise his head to the sky to persuade himself that it's okay.
Steve wants to throw up whenever something touches his neck. Eddie can relate.
Eddie feels the need to cover his wrists all the time. After being held down by demobats, he feels like he needs to protect them. Weirdly it's not his maimed chest, not his scarred sides, but the wrists. That explains the thick leather bracelets.
Steve can't stand the feeling of not being fully there, with marihuana and alcohol. "It's the truth serum," he tells Eddie and admits, finally admits how guilty he felt for giving Dustin's full name to the Russians, wonders how much damage he could do if he ever let himself go. The Russians are gone, but the guilt stays.
And Eddie feels uneasy under the open sky. Maybe it's because it was nearly the last thing he would see in his life. Maybe it has something to do with the bird thing. But it is so difficult to just walk on the street, be in the open. Be vulnerable.
"The funny thing is," says Steve and shifts closer to Eddie on the couch, Eddie with his beer and Steve with soda, "when things were still...you know, shit, I didn't feel this way. I was able to go wherever I wanted, do what I wanted, because the danger was actually there, you know? We did what we had to do and I felt like...like I didn't need to think about it, I just did things. But now...I guess I just don't trust it. Things being fine. Hell, I can't even trust myself," he laughs and it's bitter, pained. "The fuck is this? When did I go from actually fighting monsters to shaking like a stupid chihuahua from hearing someone washing their hands?"
Eddie takes a swig of his beer and closes his eyes, nodding. His hair is messier than usual from lying around and nervous tugging of his fingers, but Steve still thinks it looks great. Or maybe not just great, he wouldn't like it on just anyone, but...maybe it's just that it's Eddie. The thought doesn't scare him as much as it used to.
It takes a moment for Eddie to speak, but when he does, he stares at the ceiling, his eyes large and glassy. "Yeah, I get that. I thought I graduated from being a coward, but-"
"Not a coward, man." Steve hates interrupting people, he was lectured on it way too many times, but this is the single time he feels like it's justified. "Don't call yourself a coward. Because you're not."
Eddie shoots him a small smile. "Well, let me rephrase it. I thought I'd stop freezing when I got scared, but look at me now. Wayne noticed it too, you know? He...he actually helped." He shifted even closer, now sitting so close to Steve their legs were touching. "He told me that he went through something similar when he came back from Vietnam. Just...small flashes. Random things reminding him of what he saw there. It fucked him up pretty badly, he said, uh..." Biting his lip, he took a deep breath. "He said that's why he never got married or had kids. That he didn't feel...healthy enough. Whole enough. But then of course I got dropped on his doorstep and he had to deal with the shit."
Steve is staring now, he's distantly aware that it's not very polite, but damn, that sounds like a miracle. Maybe Wayne is a much stronger man then they are, but he just has to ask. "How...how did he do it? I mean...it feels so unreal. That you can just...deal with it."
"He said it wasn't easy," Eddie mutters, fiddling with his rings. "But he...uh. Shit, this is embarrassing but also kinda amazing? He said I was his biggest motivation to get better, so he...he dealt with those things by kind of overwriting the memories with new ones with me? Like...he got really, really freaked out by bushes and dense woods, you know. Found it difficult to go anywhere where he couldn't see everything around him. But he...he started taking me out to the woods. Bit by bit, I mean, it wasn't immediate, but he started teaching me about nature. Showing me some edible things, animals if we got to see them. I didn't know it back then, but he was freaking out all the time. But eventually, he stopped associating the woods with...that. And started thinking about what he'd teach me next, what our next trip would be."
"Wow." Steve has always liked Wayne, but now? He thinks the man is incredible. "Your uncle is amazing," he whispers. "Just...just amazing. He came up with that and it worked? He did that for you? I...wow."
Eddie laughs, nodding and downing the rest of his beer. "Right? And he talks about it like it's no big deal. He just did it. I wish I had the guts too, you know, because I really want to do some of the stuff with him that we used to do. He's not pushing, but...I really want to spend time with him. Do the same thing he did for me." After a brief pause, he continues. "You know, we have this really silly thing that we used to do that I want to experience again. So fucking much. We call it bird watching, but it actually is more of a bird spotting. We'd just sit together on the porch, smoke and try to spot birds. Like, you'd point at a crow or a pigeon or whatever and the other would say "yep, sure is a bird". It sounds silly, but...I just hate that I can't do it anymore, you know."
Steve stares into the distance for a moment, lost in thought. And just as Eddie is about to nudge him, to ask what he's thinking about, he snaps out of it, looking at Eddie. "You can and you will," he proclaims resolutely.
"Um." He's laughing again, but this time it's a bit awkward, uncertain. "Not sure which part of "I panic when I'm under the open sky or when I hear wings" you didn't hear, Steve."
But his friend just shakes his head, gets that determined look that never ends well for their enemies. "I heard all of it. And I thought we'd all be fucked up forever, but your uncle could do it, man. And he did it alone. We're together in this and I don't know about you, but I'm sick of letting that disgusting place control my every move. So let me ask you - do you want to rewrite memories together?"
And see, this was is thing with Steve Harrington. Once he makes up his mind, he will follow through - and even though Eddie is still scared shitless, the idea of Steve facing his fears alone somehow feels even worse. Cracking open another beer, he takes a mighty gulp before nodding, offering his hand to seal the deal. "Name the time and place, big boy."
--
They aren't stupid about it, not more stupid than usual. Steve insists on making some rules and plans in case things go to shit. And while Eddie isn't exactly a fan of planning things, this actually does sound like a good idea. So they write it all down, figure out time and place, a calm Sunday when they don't have a shift, around 2 PM so there's enough light and warmth for them to attempt to relax - which is pretty fucking impossible because their destination is none other than Lover's Lake. No use wasting water sitting by a running tap or watch bird puppets, as Steve eloquently puts it.
Steve also insists on choosing just one of the fears to tackle for him and Eddie, making a very good point that it's supposed to be baby steps, not giant stomps, whatever that is supposed to mean. It's actually more like two for Eddie because birds and open sky go together like goat cheese and weird taste or something, but it would be really difficult to separate the two.
And finally, after some research, they come up with a back up plan - if either of them gets too much in their head, the other one needs to distract them. "Doesn't matter what it is, apparently," says Eddie while he is munching on another handful of dry cereal, "it just has to be unexpected. Basically to shock the panic out of your brain. Which sounds...very healthy. Yep. So when I'm freaking out about bird stuff, just...tell me you're getting married to Tammy Thompson or something."
Steve snickers and packs some drinks and snacks as well as a blanket, the forever babysitter. "For you, Munson? I'll describe our whole Muppet wedding and ask you to be my best man."
--
The walk is...fine. Well, that's a lie. The walk is fucking horrendous but the trees help, giving Eddie at least some semblance of a shelter. His heart is beating like crazy, sure, but he's trying to be normal, he really is, because Steve is keeping it together and distracting him as well as he can. After they spook a bunch of birds and their flapping of wings almost has Eddie hyperventilating, Steve grabs his hand, squeezing it and demanding Eddie tells him about his favorite Lord of the Rings character and why it is Aragorn - that elicits a half-snort, half-whimper from Eddie, but it's enough to keep him on track.
They find a suitable spot, not fully in the open, but covered by tall grass and in the shadow of a large tree. The lake is a few steps away and when they sit down on the blanket, they can't really see it, but the sound is there - calming for Eddie but Steve...yeah, he doesn't look so good. That's when Eddie grasps his shoulder and asks him to explain why basketball is so good and how does one even understand what's going on. "Eyes up here, Steve, tell me everything. How many people on each team. Are there different functions, roles or something like that? And why are the shorts so short?"
It goes like that for a while. Whenever one of them gets too stressed, too quiet, the other one shoots a question that makes them think, about something they really, really like. So far, so good.
Except then it happens. As if there was some twisted re-enactment of their Upside Down misfortunes, a bunch of birds loudly take off and circle above the two, flapping their wings and even though they seem to be leaving, Eddie suddenly can't breathe, he's back on the ground, being held by his throat and his wrists, choking on blood-
"Eddie, hey Eddie, stay with me." Steve's voice is panicked too, he's doing what he can but the questions aren't working, Eddie is paralyzed, rigid on the ground.
Licking his dry lips, he wheezes out, "I think it's good time to surprise me, Steve. Like now. Please."
"Okay, yeah, okay."
Eddie prays for a quick shock. Maybe learning about Harrington's porn preferences. About dirty secrets from high school. Maybe some of Robin's romantic misadventures. Something, anything to get him out of his head.
He gets his wish when Steve leans over him and presses his lips against Eddie's.
Eddie's heart skips a beat. Maybe two, three. But he isn't dead, so it has to keep beating, he thinks, but he can't really tell - not when all of the feeling in his body goes to his lips, to the gentle press that Eddie has been craving for months.
It takes him a moment to realize that it's suddenly quiet, the birds are gone and Steve is still above him, looking at Eddie with concern. "Did it work?" he asks and Eddie wants to punch him, murder him, kiss him senseless.
"Sure did," he croaks and tries to play it cool, failing miserably. Maybe if he turns it into a joke, Steve won't notice that he actually enjoyed this, that this isn't just a distraction tactic to him. "Gotta be careful there, Steve," he laughs weakly, "you might give a guy false hope that this is actually something you wanted."
He expects a disgusted scrunch of Steve's nose, a shock maybe, but instead he just leans down and tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear. "False hope?" he whispers and holds his gaze, braver than any and all of them. "For this concrete guy, it's pretty much an open invitation. Although I should have asked, sorry, it's been on my mind since forever and when I saw you like that, I just panicked. So, uh...sorry. If that's not what you want. I mean-"
"Steve," he sighs, exasperated. "I just had a taste of what that mouth can do and I'm pretty sure you're just wasting its potential." His hand sneaks into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, kissing the tip of his nose. "And I can promise you this isn't a trauma response or something. I've been going crazy about you for months now. Just ask Wayne. Or better, don't. He's been making fun of me for it. Mercilessly."
They dissolve into a fit of giggles and maybe a bit of hysteria, too, but the world is quiet now, the sounds of wings and waves distant and the warmth of their bodies is grounding, safe. "He can start a mocking club with Robin, then. She's been calling me her cute bisexual disaster, if you can believe that," says Steve.
"Oh, I absolutely can." The grin is almost painful, but he can't help it, wonders if he'll associate flapping of wings with Steve's lips now, instead of all the pain and horror. Maybe not immediately but there's no need for giant stomps. "Well, big boy...what do you say we give them something to mock us for?"
Steve leans down and smiles against his lips, his breath tickling Eddie's face. "I thought you'd never ask."
--
It's several days later that Eddie catches in uncle home, smoking in his chair and staring at the darkening trees. He quietly takes a stool outside and plops next to him, stealing a lighter to light his cigarette.
He tries to act casual, but the disbelieving smile and pride in Wayne's eyes makes him blush, his face being the biggest traitor of all.
He motions towards the trees where something moved, the sound of its wings muffled and distant. "Looks like a bird, right?" he says.
Wayne reaches over and ruffles his hair, takes another drag from his own cigarette. "Sure does."