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Why did Steve have to be…Steve?
It was a thought, a conundrum that plagued Eddie’s thoughts continually over the course of the last few months after his stay at the hospital. It wasn’t enough that the guy visited him and Max every single day without fail, bringing with him all of his favorite books and tapes. The first time he brought flowers and Eddie was so blown on painkillers that he popped a few staples laughing so hard.
Were the flowers funny? No, they were beautiful.
It was the simple fact that as soon as he saw Steve’s perfectly tanned, cheerful face walking through his- Eddie Munson’s- hospital room like any concerned boyfriend would for their loved one, he was either going to bawl his eyes out hysterically or laugh until he cried. Both events happened, the latter was the first and the former saved for when Steve eventually left.
Steve wasn’t his boyfriend, nor would he ever be. And that was the problem.
He wanted him. Desperately.
But Eddie knew it would never work, they lived on different sides of tracks. Literally. Eddie lived in a tiny two bedroom trailer in the poorest trailer park right on the outskirts of town. And Steve? He lived in a sprawling multi-bedroom house on the rich side of Hawkins. He was there the day the construction crew broke ground and wondered who would live in such a big castle.
He was rich, had his own car that didn’t need to be hotwired every day. He had the money to take care of all the little kids’ needs/wants/DEMANDS without batting an eye or worry about bill or gas money. He just handed over his card with a sigh and smile, while Eddie’s chest was tight with so many complex emotions he was too unwilling to examine.
Steve was funny. Like, not the obvious kind of funny. He could recall lines from movies like Eddie could recall sonnets. He sprinkled them into their conversations so deftly like dashes of salt, oblivious to his own cleverness. The others- they were children and used to more obvious forms of humor. Boys were easy that way. Well…in all ways, really. In this instance however, it was more than just his physical humor. His intelligent brevity was so quiet it was almost elusive to those that just…didn’t hear him. Or cared to listen.
He was kind. He cared about the kids like they were his own flesh and blood. His sweetness told a tale of sadness and lonliness, the kind of bone-deep aching that Eddie was far too familiar with. Eddie would watch as Steve offered acts of service, a thoughtful word- Steve gave so much of himself, never asking for anything at all.
Why.
Why did he have to be so pretty on top of all of that?
Why did Eddie lay awake in bed at night mentally drawing the planes of his face? He could never get the little moles like stars to scatter just so- there would always be one that he just discovered every day. His thoughts would stray from finding just the right hue of chocolate to perfectly match them to wondering just how many dotted the rest of his body.
As if Eddie would ever find out.
It was futile and he knew it. Steve would never look his way- in that way. Like how Eddie wished Steve would.
He had to make due with what he could get of Steve. The easy welcoming smile that stretched from ear to ear whenever he walked through the doors of Family Video wrenched his heart every time. Made Eddie actually believe for a moment that he was that excited to see him before realizing- he’s at work, he has to be that enthusiastic. It could also have been the brownies he brought, they were always a hit.
The sounds he made as he devoured them would stay locked away- under lock and fucking key. Forever. Only to be brought out in the darkest of nights when he couldn’t breathe through the ache anymore. Was it shameful to think about your straight guy friend with your hand in places it probably shouldn’t be? Probably.
Was he going to stop?
Eddie had it bad, there was no way around it. It seemed that the universe knew it too, for every time he listened to the radio the songs were suspiciously…ballad-worthy.
Scorpions. Dio. White Snake. Queen.
Well Queen was a no-brainer when it came to romance. No question.
Nevertheless he couldn’t have the blissful relief of music to ease his long-suffering torture. Everything reminded him of his feelings: the music playing on the radio of his van, the steady stream of customers leaving the video store he was parked outside, the Beemer wheeling through the parking lot right fucking now.
God.
The car stopped, the engine ticked as it cooled, the doors opened to regurgitate the kids who piled inside. Each one looking more haggard than the last, their swift and strident complaints flying rapid-fire across the parking lot. Though they were loud enough for each voice to be heard distinctly, they could have been Ms.O’Donnell for as much as Eddie paid attention to them.
His eyes and ears were on Steve.
He levered himself out of the driver’s side, shaking his glorious mane of chestnut locks shiny with sweat. His golden, dappled skin was sheened in sweat, droplets sliding down the flushed column of his neck.
Eddie’s mouth was so dry.
He gulped as Steve stretched, letting out a small creaking noise as a few joints popped. He was wearing a t-shirt today, rare for a Harrington such as he on a weekday of all things. It was yellow, a bright goldenrod that looked so damn good on him. Eddie suspected it was Steve’s favorite color. It was fast becoming Eddie’s favorite too. To Eddie, Steve was yellow.
Bright, glorious, radiant, beautiful.
Warmth, comfort, joy.
He needed to get a handle on him. On this. He had to stop this before it got weird.
The air conditioning must have been busted in his car, his shirt clung to his torso in the best possible way. Eddie shifted as Steve let his arms fall back down, the shirt’s hem nowhere near the belt of his jeans. The exposed sliver of belly he could see from just a few feet away was haunting him. His eyes flicked back up to Steve’s face just in time as the golden boy caught sight of him, waving cheerfully before hurrying over.
Eddie could have cried right then.
Steve wasn’t wearing jeans. They were fucking cut offs and dear Christ on a wheat cracker, they boy was fit. He should have realized with the way they rode their bikes in the upside-down but knowing it and seeing it were too different things. And yes, his calves were dotted with the cutest moles Eddie had ever seen on a person. He wanted to kiss each one. Name each one.
“Hey, Eds!”
Eddie squashed his internal screaming, he smelled so fucking good. Like apples, sunshine and sweat. “Hey there, b-buddy.”
“You good there, Munson?” Steve never lost the blinding smile, but his beautiful straight brows drew together in concern. All Eddie cloud think about was licking that little line that formed to crown that perfect fucking nose.
“Yeah!” Eddie wiped his face, physically trying to wiped his goddamn mind from his stupid thoughts for a second. Anything not to act like a complete dork. “Movie night?”
Steve snorted and placed his hands on his hips, Eddie was dying, “Yeah. Conned me into renting movies when I was just here last night and could have picked them up. But no, let’s cart my ass to work on my day off.” He huffed, shaking his head but still smiling.
“I know, right?” Eddie’s lips quirked, “Didn’t have the decency to make you breakfast first.”
Steve chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck, the tell-tale sign of secret spilling Stevie, “I can’t remember the last time I had food that I didn’t have to make myself.”
His mouth moved autopilot,“I could make you food.”
What.
“What?”
Eddie blinked rapidly to make sure he was knee-deep in reality and not a fucking day dream in his head, “I-I mean I could make you some food…uh, like if you’re hungry. I can cook.”
Shut. Up.
There was a short beat, where time stopped and something shifted in Steve’s eyes. It was so quick that Eddie honestly questioned if he imagined the almost knowing look the other man gave him. It had to be his imagination because the Steve he knew didn’t pick up on almost anything that stumbled out of his mouth most of the time.
“I’d actually really like that.”
“Yeah?” Eddie perked up, “I just gotta wait for the guys to be done, can meet at my place later? Like, in an hour?”
His eyes were sparkling, god he was so beautiful.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
*
Yes this was a regular, normal meal for friend.
Totally.
Eddie stared at the table, almost vibrating in place while he waited to flip the french toast. It looked fine, he was sure. Totally went all out for literally no reason, the second Steve walked through the door he was going to laugh his perfect ass off. It was blanketed with a crisp white tablecloth (sheet), with dishes and silverware (doubled paper plates, plastic ware), and a bouquet of wildflowers. Like it was a date. Like making breakfast meant something.
Dammit, for Eddie it did mean something.
He flipped the toast just in time for Steve’s knock at the door. There was no time for Eddie to get rid of the stupid flowers he spent a good ten minutes picking outside- what if Steve had allergies? No time for Eddie to undo the last few minutes so it was time to just run with it and see what happens.
“Come in!” Eddie called over his shoulder, casting a quick grin over his shoulder as Steve walked through. “Hope you’re hungry, the second I woke up today I had a craving for french toast. All I could think about really-”
“Smells great, Eddie.”
Steve was closer than he was expecting, just at his shoulder and Eddie could die right now as a happy man just to feel his comforting presence. Steve himself was a balm to the raw nerve that was Eddie.
Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, he always got close like this, it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.
He took a deep breath, swallowing through the lump in his throat, face burning not just from the heat of the stove. He turned the heat off, the last of the toast easily sliding onto the plate next to him. He turned, stopped short as Steve left barely any room to slide past to set the piled plate onto the table. His place wasn’t as big as Steve’s so maybe he felt crowded?
“Um, I’ll just-” Eddie made a move to sidle past before he felt a gentle touch on his arm. Heart hammering in his chest Eddie looked up to see a Steve never before revealed to him. This one was different, the look so serious but questioning, hesitant.
“You really did all of this because you were craving french toast?”
I was definitely craving something, you are correct, Eddie could barely breathe, “Well I mean…it's polite right? We both can’t eat directly out of the pan, that would be weird right?”
“Eddie,” Steve laughed, his breath minty and feather-light over Eddie’s lips, “I’m hungry. But not for breakfast.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Eddie’s voice was small. Crushed. He really should have asked shouldn’t he? Maybe he didn't like breakfast food and was thinking something else and he just assumed. Should have figured that walking into your friend’s place to a cutesy setup would be a little much. God, no wonder he was pathetically single, a dumb freak-
His thought came to a screeching halt as the hand on his arm slid up to his elbow, gently cupping the joint as the plate was taken gently out of his lax grip. He blinked rapidly at the moisture flooding his eyes- he was not going to cry, even though his throat burned.
“Eddie,” Steve started quietly and this was it. This was where their friendship ended and he was being so nice about though he really didn’t have to, Eddie understood-
“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now, and this is the only time I could get you alone.”
“I-I get it, it’s cool Steve. You really don’t have to-” God, please just go. Don’t do this. Don’t be so nice.
“Please Eddie,” there was another hand at his hip and Eddie still couldn’t fucking breathe. This wasn’t fair, Steve wasn’t allowed to be so nice and so cruel all at the same time. “Could you look at me, please?”
Look him in the eye as he tore his heart out, sure Stevie. I’d follow you to the upside-down and back all over again if you asked. Eddie looked up, eyes so hurt and bruised because he’s been here before. He was too much, too weird, and Steve didn’t want to stay friends. He just hoped that he wouldn’t take Dustin away. He loved that kid so much.
“Look I get it, okay?” Fuck, his voice warbled. He could barely look him in the eyes, those puppy dog eyes were absolutely killing him, “This was weird, a-and I-”
“I love it, Eddie.”
What?
“What?” Shocked, as Steve’s warm hand cupped his jaw, thumb brushing the tear that spilled, “You like-”
“I love this, Eddie.” Steve was so serious, quiet. His touch gentle and warm, Eddie could let himself believe for a split second- “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel. About you, about this thing between us. I mean, I get it if you don’t feel the same way. I hope- I hope that we can still be friends? I just can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to see where this goes. If…if you feel the same way.”
“I don’t think I could be just friends with you, big boy.” The relief he felt as Steve’s lips brushed against his made him feel like he was floating. The hand on his jaw slipped to cradle the back of his head, Steve’s long fingers threading through his curls. His eyes slipped shut, surrendering to the pleasure of the slide of lips, the soft curl of his tongue, the gentle nip of his teeth. It was perfect, Steve was perfect.
Breakfast could wait.