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Steve Harrington’s always been a morning person. Ask anybody and they’ll tell you, “Oh yeah. He’s definitely an early bird - I mean, he doesn’t seem pleased by it, but he is.”
Eddie Munson on the other hand? He’s one of those rare kinds that stays up until the early hours of the morning, awake well past when the crickets have gone to sleep, and somehow manages to be up and moving shortly after dawn. He’s obsessed with the hushed hours of the day.
No one seems to know how he does it until they find him curled up in the corner of a room in the early afternoon, chin tucked into his chest, arms wrapped around his middle, legs splayed like a house cat. The only thing Eddie Munson loves more than metal, DnD, his uncle, and the weird little pocket of the world he calls family, are naps.
Steve hates how miserable he feels in the mornings - watches how Eddie and Robin buzz around the house at 7am and has the urge to rattle them around by the shoulders. Yeah, he’s always been an early riser because he had to be: had to wake up with the sun for practice since he was a kid, wanted to make sure Robin got to school on time after they met, and then just kept up the habit. Made sense.
Months after the final battle, Rob is taking classes at the community college, and Steve decides, “Fuck it. Why not?”
They decide to not take morning classes and break their routine. With little reason to be up early, Steve tests a theory, lets his body wake him up naturally and finds himself rising well past 10am most days. He doesn’t wanna throw his head into the nearest wall and actually enjoys being awake.
Then he discovers just how much he loves the night, especially that quiet time between midnight and 3am
“Oooo. The witching hour!” Eddie had teased, wiggling his fingers.
It’s peaceful, still in a way that makes Steve’s brain slow down, and gives him the time and space to think. He’s as surprised as anyone; with all of the bullshit they’ve been through, you’d think he’d be afraid of it, but he’s not. If anything, he feels like he has his footing better in the dark, knows where he stands, feels safe in it as it wraps its crisp embrace around him.
He often finds himself up on their roof, staring at the moon. For whatever reason, he feels drawn to it - like it’s whispering the universe’s secrets directly to him, reassuring him that for once in his young life, he’s safe and doesn’t have to fight so goddamn hard. It’s nice. It’s soft and it’s his.
Well, except when it isn’t, but he loves those moments, too. The nights where Rob is having a harder time falling asleep even though she crawled into bed at 10. Eddie will follow behind sometimes, acoustic guitar in hand.
Robin shuffles in between the boys, plopping her head onto Steve’s shoulder, and tossing a bit of blanket into Eddie’s lap. Gentle chords float out from under Eddie’s skilled fingers, and the night just carries on.
Letting out a yawn that cracks her jaw, Robin will grumble about needing to go to bed before scooching out from her spot in the middle and clambering down to her room. Steve will keep humming along as Eddie plays.
2am is always when Steve feels a bit braver, and lets an honest conversation fall between them. Sometimes there are tears, but often it’s dimpled smiles and stifled laughter. Eyes crinkling in the corners, Eddie will turn his doe-eyed gaze on Steve, and the moon’s never looked as beautiful as it does reflected back at him in those dark eyes.
Steve Harrington used to be a morning person, but he finds himself thinking that maybe he fell in love with the night a year ago, shoulders grazing, as he walked through those ghostly, darkened woods with Eddie Munson.