Archive of Our Own

Steve woke with a gasp that was moments from being a scream, but over the years he’d become good at tamping that instinct down. Instead, he sat up and shook, his skin clammy with sweat as he looked around the room.

Normal. Safe. No flickering lights.

Just a nightmare.

But just because it seemed okay, didn’t mean it felt okay. It didn’t mean he could turn over and go back to sleep. Not with twisted memories and horrible outcomes from the Upside Down playing through his head.

Reaching out blindly for the phone, he dialled a number on instinct.

Half a year ago, it would have been Robin he called. Longer than that, he would have forgone sleep and suffered in silence.

Now, he called the person who, in the last few months, had become someone he spoke to at least twice a week in the dead of night.

He called Eddie.

It took a while for the call to connect, and that was normal. Sometimes, he had to hang up and call a second time before Eddie was able to get to the phone. It wasn’t in his room, not like with him.

“Hello?” Eddie finally answered, sounding sleep roughened. “Steve?”

Steve slumped back against the bed, relieved to hear the other boy’s voice. “Eddie.”

“Hey,” Eddie said, his voice not sounding quite like usual. “Hey man.” He coughed. “Sorry, just, still waking up.”

“Shit,” Steve whispered, pressing a hand to his face as he realised. “You were asleep. Actually asleep.”

Because that was a rarity for either of them since Vecna. They were sleeping a lot more now, but not the deep untroubled rest of before the Upside Down.

“No, hey man, it’s fine. All good. I just, uh.” He cleared his throat. “Need to, um, wake up.”

And that was… different.

Their usual routine found Eddie cracking jokes or teasing him near instantly; not about the nightmares but about something mundane. His music taste, clothing style, choice in food. All silly things that would make him laugh and get them on a light-hearted tangent. Right now, Eddie sounded almost… awkward. The throat clearing was something he did when he was hiding behind his hair; when something had thrown him off guard.

And, frankly, Steve was desperate for any kind of distraction. His friend’s odd behaviour was the easiest thing to latch onto, and maybe it was the late night or some other instinct. The awareness of Wayne’s schedule that let him know Eddie was home alone. The knowledge of the kind of activity that would allow someone to feel exhausted enough to sleep – but either way his brain made a leap that had his eyes widening.

“Oh shit,” he whispered. “You have someone over.”

Eddie spluttered. “What? I… no! Who do you think I am, Harrington, you?”

“But you’re acting different,” Steve insisted. “You’re all half-asleep and awkward and shit. We’ve talked hundreds of times, you’re never like this. Shit. I can hang up. I can-”

“For fuck’s sake, Steve. You woke me up from a dream, okay?”

Steve blinked. “A dream?”

“Yes, okay. A good dream, all right? I’m still, you know, coming down from it.”

“Coming down-? Oh! Oh.” His cheeks heated slightly, but he also huffed a faint laugh. “Well fuck. I feel just as bad. I can’t remember the last time I had one of them.”

There was a brief pause.

“Steve, that’s just sad.”

Unable to help it, he laughed. He also ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, well. Too many demons in my head, not enough women.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry I ruined yours.”

“It’s not like it’s as good as the real thing,” Eddie said, his tone oddly soft. Steve’s brow furrowed but before he could question it, he heard Eddie shifting and when he spoke, he sounded more like his normal self. “But, since I am very much awake now, Stevie. I expect to be either entertained or appeased.”

Steve snorted, relaxing back in bed as his friend’s familiar mannerisms washed over him.

“Well, since I kind of fucked up your night, I suppose I better choose appeasing.”

“Oh, what a good choice,” Eddie answered, brightening already. “Because I have been working on the latest campaign, and Stevie, you just got to tell me what you think about this trap because I just need them to fall for it.”

Steve smiled, already feeling better as Eddie startled to ramble about his nerd game.

It was one of the three things they did whenever Eddie mentioned appeasement. He listened to Eddie talk about Dungeons & Dragons, he listened to Eddie’s music or, when they were both feeling a little too raw, Eddie would read to him from one of his favourite books.

Entertainment was usually when he talked to Eddie; usually embarrassing stories or whatever shit that had happened over the course of the week. Sometimes, Eddie would poke and prod him about his music taste or hair products, pushing them into a teasing argument that ended with them laughing.

Very rarely there had been a third option; where Eddie had needed calm words and comfort. The first time, he hadn’t had anything on hand and had ended up driving all the way to the trailer. They’d spent the night sitting on the couch pressed together.

After, Eddie had handed him a book, not meeting his gaze and mumbling something under his breath. He’d kept the book beside his bed ever since, just waiting for when Eddie would need him to read it. He’d only done it twice, but both times, Eddie had barely corrected his mispronunciations and when he had spoken to say something, he’d sounded so soft and content. Steve would never admit it, but he liked the nights he read to Eddie the best.

He'd never been great with books; didn’t have the attention span or interest when he could be out and doing something physical, but there was a real intimacy and sweetness to reading to another person.

He imagined it was the kind of feeling people got when they read to their wives or their children. Even though Eddie wasn’t either, Steve was happy to experience it in any capacity, especially when it helped Eddie get back to sleep.

Tonight, all he had to do was follow along as Eddie explained his plans, going off on long tangents and no longer bothering to threaten him with pain of death if he breathed any secrets to the kids. They both knew he’d forget half of it and, the parts he did remember, he wouldn’t spill to Henderson or the others even if they begged (and they never would, because while they knew he and Eddie got along, they didn’t know about this, and neither he nor Eddie wanted to tell them.)

Their late-night conversations were theirs. Yes, Robin knew they occasionally spoke, but she didn’t know what about or how often. It was something entirely for them; safe, comforting and non-judgmental.

By the time Eddie ran out of steam, Steve’s eyelids were drooping and his head was resting on the pillow, the phone sandwiched against his ear.

“Okay to sleep now, Stevie?” Eddie asked softly.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Yeah.” He yawned. “Sorry, Eds.”

“We don’t apologise, remember? You told me that.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, well, I meant for the other bit.”

“Oh.” The air felt heavy with a weighted silence Steve was too tired to read into. “Don’t worry. Real thing is better. You go sleep now, Stevie.”

“Okay. You sleep too?”

“With you whispering in my ear? That’s a ticket to dreamland, sweetheart.”

Steve huffed a laugh, fondly amused by his friend. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, Steve.”

Steve was still smiling as he hung up the phone and let his eyes drift shut. He couldn’t help picturing Eddie propped up in the living room of his trailer, on the phone and gesturing dramatically as he’d spoken about his DnD. He’d have been sleep-ruffled, probably only in worn sleep pants with his hair a mess and pillow creases on his face.

Steve’s heart did a little thump, but he was too tired to really notice it, just like he barely realised that as he fell asleep, he imagined he was sitting right there beside Eddie, basking in the man’s enthusiasm and beautiful smile.

It happened again.

It wasn’t even the next time or the one after that, it was actually a couple of weeks later. The last nightmare had found Eddie waking him up, the one before that, it had been him.

They seemed to be taking it in turns, and Eddie had commented about it only a few days ago.

‘Our fucking nightmares man, as if we’re, I don’t know, one of your sports games. Throwing the ball to one another or some shit.’

He would have laughed at the guy’s attempt at a sports metaphor, but he was tired and the similarity had merit, so he’d just grunted and replied, ‘Can we have a fucking halftime, then? I could use a week where if I dream about anything, it’s normal shit like being in the NBA.’

‘Or a rockstar,’ Eddie said wistfully. ‘Or getting the fuck out of Hawkins. Man, I’d like a dream about that.’

They’d compared a variety of good or strange dreams after that, making each other laugh before changing the subject. The one kind of dream they hadn’t talked about was the one that he’d woken Eddie up from.

Good dreams. Sex dreams.

And, three weeks after the first time, Steve did it again.

He’d had a particularly horrible one where things with the Russians had gone so much worse, but instead of Robin it had been Eddie. Not in a Scoops uniform, but beaten and bloody with a gun at his head.

Steve had been pleading: ‘I just work at Scoops, he’s just my friend, we don’t know anything, we don’t know anything!’

They hadn’t cared and he’d woken up just as the trigger had been fired.

He’d been gasping for breath, his fingers fumbling on the phone and getting it wrong at least once before finally calling the trailer. It rang out, and he was shaking so badly by the time the second call was picked up.

“Christ. Shit, fuck,” Eddie began, sounding a little breathless as if he might have run or tripped. “I’m here. Shit.”

Steve breathed out heavily, already feeling calmer hearing Eddie’s voice; no pain, no terror. He was alive and well.

“Eddie,” he whispered, soft and relieved.

Eddie sucked in a breath; it was audible over the line.

“Uh. Steve.” He cleared his throat. “Right, hey.” He did it again. “Maybe speak a little louder, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed, his throat was dry and his voice was probably lower and rougher. “Yeah. I can be louder, Eds.”

Eddie made a noise. A strange sort of wheeze and Steve swore he heard a softly whispered ‘fuck’ but couldn’t be sure. And the silence really wasn’t helping; he needed to hear Eddie’s voice, needing to know he was okay.

“Can you talk?” he asked. “I really want to hear you, Eddie.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie muttered.

Steve frowned, feeling a new and different worry. “Eddie? Are you okay?”

“Fine!” He hurried to say. “Fine, absolutely fine.” He cleared his throat. “Right, me, talking. I can do that. Yup.”

Steve’s confusion deepened as he tried to understand what was wrong with his friend, but there was only one other occasion when he’d been awkward. He winced.

“Awh, fuck man. I woke you from another good dream, didn’t I?” The line went silent and Steve’s heart picked up, his lingering fear from the nightmare rearing up and making him jittery. “Eddie? Eds?”

“Sorry, I’m here.” he said. “And, I, uh… fuck.” He sighed, sounding strangely embarrassed. “Yeah, okay, you did.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “We have them, man, it’s normal. Actually,” he laughed a little. “Tommy H used to tell me about his, especially if it was about some chick from a movie.” He shook his head, smiling faintly in memory. But it also brought with it a sense of curiosity. “What kind of chick did you dream about?”

Eddie didn’t reply immediately and Steve shifted uncomfortably, not over the subject but the silence.

“Eds? Look, sorry, but I… it’s one of those nights and I really need to have you talking to me, okay? Can you just… talk, please?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, sounding off. “I can talk. But are you… is this the subject you want to pick, man?”

It was odd, yeah, but it was different. It was also completely unlike his dream, so utterly removed from Starcourt and the Russians. Eddie and he never really talked about girls or sex. It meant there was nothing that could tie him back to where his head had been.

“Honestly, it’s nothing like where my head was at before,” he admitted, rubbing a hand through his sweaty locks. “I’m not sure what else might drag me back. This won’t. If it’s okay? Yeah. This would be good.”

Once again, he thought he heard Eddie curse under his breath, but, a moment later he said, “Okay. All right. Sex dreams. I can talk about them. Sure.”

Steve couldn’t help a hint of amusement.

“Are you nervous, dude? I didn’t pick you for even having shame.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie grumbled. “Dreams aren’t easy to explain. And they’re… they’re fucking the product of your subconscious. They’re weird and they, like, aren’t accurate to reality. And-”

“I’m not going to think you’re like, fucked up or anything,” Steve interjected. “It’s just a dream. I mean, if you said you dreamed about Robin that would be weird.”

Eddie laughed, the sound harsh and abrupt like the idea was completely ludicrous. Steve smiled at the sound.

“God fucking no. It definitely was not Buckley in my bed.”

“But it was someone in your bed though?” Steve prompted, feeling oddly unwilling to let the subject drop.

There was a brief pause but, thankfully not as long as the others.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said, his voice different; quieter and maybe a little guarded. “They were in my bed.”

Steve chewed his bottom lip, shifting in his bed until he was sitting upright, his back to the headboard.

“And?” he prompted.

“Well,” he murmured, still sounding hesitant, “we’d been making out. They were under me. My hands were under… their shirt. Their legs were around my waist and I was rocking into them. It felt so fucking good because they looked so happy to be there, you know?”

Steve’s heart twisted at the last part; as if deep down Eddie still didn’t think someone would want to be there with him. Steve knew Eddie wasn’t well liked in town, that it had to be hard as the local “freak” and formerly accused murderer to get a date, but Eddie was such a sweet, smart and funny guy. He deserved to have a chick want him.

“I bet they were happy to be there,” Steve insisted, wanting Eddie to feel more confident about himself. “I bet they felt lucky as hell to be in your bed.”

Eddie chuckled, but it sounded bleak. “Man, I was the lucky one.”

Steve’s heart ached but he didn’t know how to fix it. He wanted to shake Eddie, or maybe the girls in Hawkins. He needed to get everyone to listen and work out that Eddie’s circumstances didn’t change that he had a heart of fucking gold. Eddie Munson was a far better catch than Steve Harrington, only no one important seemed to God damn notice it.

But he knew Eddie wouldn’t see it that way.

So, he swallowed those words down and said instead, “Guess you were both lucky.” He then chuckled and asked, “So, come on, did you get lucky?”

Eddie snorted. “That was terrible.”

“You found it funny!”

“Barely.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Now, come on, you’ve got her where you want her, what happened next?”

There was another long pause, but this time the silence didn’t make his skin crawl, he just waited patiently to hear the next part of the dream.

“We, um, stopped kissing, or, I don’t know, the dream changed but we were both shirtless. And… fuck. I’ve wanted to touch them for ages and I finally get to and it’s… shit, it’s good. And they touch my tattoos, tracing them like I’ve wanted them to do every time I catch them looking.”

Steve sat up straighter, his eyes wide over the way Eddie was talking about his dream girl. It was obvious; this wasn’t a random person in his bed. This was someone Eddie knew, someone he wanted. He’d thought about them outside of the dream and imagined this situation before. Steve knew already that Eddie hadn’t meant to reveal that. This—she, was secret.

He’d been so cagey from the start and he never talked about girls or crushes. It wasn’t the sex that made him awkward (he always cracked jokes and waggled his eyebrows about it if it came up in general conversation) it was because he was getting close to admitting something more.

It hurt a little to not be trusted, and yet, it also made the answer obvious. What kind of girl would make Eddie bite his tongue around Steve? Nancy.

Eddie must have a thing for her and didn’t want to make things awkward because of their history. Which just showed Eddie was nice and considerate of a friend’s feelings. But Eddie didn’t need to be concerned. He was over Nancy, had been for months, so he shouldn’t care that Eddie liked her.

So then, why did he feel a tight pain, a sharp jealousy thinking about Nancy in Eddie’s bed, touching his tattoos and seeing Eddie’s awed smile?

Steve gripped the bedsheet, scowling at nothing as Eddie continued to talk, oblivious to his confused and unhappy feelings.

“And then we start rocking together, and it’s not just the feel, it’s just… it’s everything, right? I’ve got all their focus on me, got them arching up to meet me, and then we kiss and I just have to get their shorts off and God, but their cock is just as good as-”

Eddie stopped, his words ending abruptly and Steve, for a second, thought the phone had cut out and he was going to check and call back when the word registered, a few seconds later than it had for Eddie.

Their cock.

His eyes widened. Oh. Oh shit. It wasn’t a girl. It was a guy, and it made Eddie’s wariness make a fuck tonne more sense.

Nancy fucking Wheeler, as if that’s his type. He barely talks to her!

Yet, for all that Steve was rapidly trying to fit this new information into the box marked ‘Eddie’ in his head, the rest was shouting ‘make this okay!!’ because he knew from Robin how terrifying revealing being queer was – and the silence had lingered too fucking long.

So, Steve blurted the first thing he could think of, “I didn’t wake you up there, did I?”

He winced, but at least he’d said something normal. Well, normal for the conversation.

Right, okay. Just, got to have him realise that this is okay. Eddie has a guy in his bed. That’s fine.

And it was fine. It was whatever. So, why then did the idea of Eddie pinning some random dude to the bed twist something in his gut the same way it had imagining Nancy?

“You, uh, you didn’t,” Eddie said, sounding horrifically uncomfortable. He then let out a heavy, shaky breath. “Look. Fuck. We don’t have to do this. This was a bad idea.”

“No,” Steve insisted, frustrated and not sure why. “No. Come on, man. It’s fine. I asked, it’s your dream.” He steeled himself. “So, you were taking off this dude’s shorts. Then what?”

“Steve,” Eddie said so, so softly, “I’m not going to make you listen to that.”

Steve scowled. “I said-”

“I know what you said,” Eddie interjected, “I am insanely fucking relieved that you said it and aren’t making it a big deal. Because, fuck, it’s a huge deal and I thought I was going to drop the phone I was shaking so hard, so.” He pulled in a deep breath. “So, yeah. You know and you aren’t… it’s really fucking… I just.” He cut himself off, making a frustrated sound before saying, “I don’t dream about girls. Ever. Okay, Steve? So, we should talk about something else. Whatever subject. Just pick one.”

There was something firm and insistent about the last part, as if Eddie wanted nothing more than to bury this conversation and what had come with it; but Steve didn’t think it would work. If they left it now, it would be awkward. Steve could see how the cold light of morning would make Eddie retreat, he’d also start overthinking what to say and how to be around Eddie. He didn’t want that.

And while a part of him still felt… unhappy picturing Eddie in bed with a guy, Steve refused to let it win out over Eddie’s comfort and their friendship.

“I am picking one,” he said firmly. “The same one. We were talking about this before and it’s not finished yet. So, you’re taking this guy’s shorts off. What next?”

Eddie’s swallow was so loud he could hear it over the phone. The quiet stretched and Steve gripped the phone, worried that Eddie would hang up or something else would fracture the moment.

“I take off his shorts,” Eddie said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “And he… he takes off my pants. We’re naked and I… I kiss him again and he touches me. And-” He hissed out a breath. “And fuck, do you really want to hear this, Steve?”

Steve wasn’t sure he did. His teeth were clenched just picturing some guy underneath Eddie; getting to slide their hands over the metalhead’s thin torso, trace his tattoos and get Eddie’s full, undivided attention. It made him want to punch something. But this was a fucking dream. Eddie was gay and that was fine.

Loosening his jaw, Steve took a grounding breath, refusing to let whatever the fuck was going on with him effect Eddie or make him feel like Steve hated gays or something.

(Because he didn’t, he didn’t. He’d watched the Rocky Horror Picture Show with Robin for fuck’s sake. It had been weird but he hadn’t cared about the gay shit then. So why did it matter so much with Eddie??)

“This is your dream, dude,” Steve said, sounding thankfully normal. “I was listening when I thought it was a chick. I can listen knowing it’s a guy.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “Fuck. Okay. Okay.” He breathed out heavily. “Well, I… slide our bodies closer because I always want to be closer, just want to touch him. My fingers bury in his hair and I can’t stop kissing him even though our bodies are rocking together.”

Steve clenched his jaw again, glaring at his own bedsheets as the same realisation from earlier came back. Eddie liked them. Whoever this guy was, Eddie had a crush on them. It spilled out in every longing word.

Well, lucky fucking them, he thought, feeling a jolt of something he didn’t want to look too closely at. (Or he might call it envy.)

“Then, he flips me. Lucky fucker has always been stronger than me.”

He sounded amused, huffing a vague laugh. Only further confirming this guy existed. And who the fuck was it? Steve tried to think about the guys that Eddie hung out with; someone from Corroded Coffin?

“Then he’s in my lap and… fuck, he’s so beautiful, you know? And he has that look, like this is where he wants to be; with me. And it’s… fuck, it’s the best thing. So, I touch his chest, tell him I’m going to make this good. I slide my hands through his chest hair and over scars, getting lower to reach his cock.”

Steve froze in the middle, barely hearing the part at the end. His mind was focused on one word and it ran on repeat scars, scars, scars.

This time, he’d caught the slip before Eddie had. It also brought his attention back to what Eddie had said before, the first time, ‘it’s not as good as the real thing’. He’d said it softly, said it while talking to him, as if maybe, maybe the real thing was being with the guy in the dream, even if it wasn’t in the same bed and kissing him.

Holy fuck, it’s me. I’m the guy in his dream. And, on the heels of that thought came a relieved and giddy, thank fuck.

And what the fuck to that? Since when did he-? When had it started that he wanted-? When was it Eddie? But, like a slap to the face, it was impossible to ignore. The moment he’d heard Eddie describe the person in his dream as someone he wanted, not just something his imagination had conjured, he’d been feeling unhappy and hurt. It wasn’t because it was Nancy or some random guy, it was because Eddie had someone he liked and it wasn’t Steve.

Steve’s head was spinning, but not so much that he didn’t hear Eddie’s continued descriptions.

“I start stroking him and he looks so fucking good, head thrown back, saying my name.” His breath leaves him heavily. “Breathing it so fucking softly like I’m someone he really wants. Like he’s really enjoying this. So, I use my free hand on his nips. Squeezing and pinching, wanting him to feel even better. They’re sensitive, you know? And-”

“Not that sensitive,” he corrected.

A second later, he sucked in a breath, realising what he’d done.

“Huh?” Eddie asked.

Steve licked his lips, but he wasn’t one to back down. He felt nervous, because he could be wrong, but he didn’t think so.

His heart was pounding, but he said, “They’re not that sensitive.” Then, because he’d always been one to dive in without double-checking. “My nipples.”

“W-What?” Eddie stuttered. He laughed high-pitched and nervous. “What are you talking about, Steve?”

But there was something in his voice, something caught-out and anxious that only made Steve more certain.

“You said he had scars,” Steve said quietly. “That he’s stronger than you. You’re talking about him as if he’s real, someone you know and… want.” He chewed his bottom lip but added, “And the first time, you kept telling me that the dream wasn’t as good as the real thing. As if the real thing was happening to you then. The only way that would be true is if it was me.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, sounding gutted. “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.” He gasped in a breath, panic obvious as he blurted, “I’m so fucking sorry, Steve. I tried not to do it – to say it, to tell you. I didn’t… I fucking, fuck!”

“Eddie! Eddie, it’s okay. It’s-”

“I messed up,” he sounded so upset. “I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t! Fuck, Steve. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Eddie,” he said loudly, “Eddie, calm down. I’m not-”

“But you are,” he said, sounding so distressed and frustrated. “You are him.” His voice was watery. “You are him,” he repeated, “And I can’t take it back or, or hide it, and all because I wanted to talk about you… like it was… like we were…”

Real.

Steve pulled in a deep breath, hearing the word even if it wasn’t said. He made his decision in a heartbeat.

“I’m coming over.”

“What? Steve, fuck, please, don’t do that. Please, I am literally begging you right now. I-”

“Do you know what I thought when I realised it wasn’t just some random guy in your bed?” Steve interjected, his heart pounding.

“I wish it wasn’t me?” Eddie guessed, sounding defeated.

Steve’s fist clenched and he felt that same earlier urge to shake Eddie and make him realise that he was worth so much more than what he and the town believed.

“No,” Steve said firmly. “I thought ‘thank God’. That’s what I thought, Eddie. I was so fucking relieved, even though it surprised me to feel like that. But it made sense, didn’t it? Because when I thought it was a guy, or fucking Nancy for a while there, I hated it. Hated it so much, and it wasn’t because you were with them, it was because they were with you.”

The silence was loud, all he could hear was their breathing before, whispered so quietly and with so much disbelief, “You wanted it to be you?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, Steve,” Eddie breathed and he sounded so fucking awed that Steve flushed.

It was just like earlier, when Eddie had been talking about the person in his dream; how much he wanted them there, how amazing it had felt to him. Steve had hated the idea of Nancy seeing that smile and being the cause of it - but now he could picture it and know it was all for him.

And God, over the phone suddenly wasn’t enough.

“Can I come over?”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie said, sounding so excited. “Please. Come here. God, I’ll be waiting at the door, sweetheart.”

“Ten minutes,” he promised.

“Okay.”

He could hear the smile in Eddie’s voice and Steve ended the call and leapt out of bed. He was only in a shirt and shorts, but he didn’t change. He grabbed a jacket and slipped on some shoes.

He left his bedroom only pausing to get his keys before he was out of the house and in the Beemer. It was still the dead of night, so there was no one on the roads. It allowed him to break more than a few road rules to get him to the trailer park faster.

When he pulled up in front of Eddie’s trailer, the light was on and Eddie was already waiting in the doorway. His hair was a mess like he’d been running his fingers through it. He was only wearing loose and ripped sleep pants, his feet were bare and his fingers free of rings. He looked fucking gorgeous.

Steve turned off the car and climbed out. Eddie stayed where he was, gaze locked on him as he walked up to the trailer’s door.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Eddie replied.

He tugged some hair in front of his face, chewing nervously on the strands. Steve smiled and stepped closer.

“Let me in?”

Eddie stepped away, walking backward and never taking his gaze from Steve.

He climbed inside and shut the door behind him. They stood there, just looking at one another. Eddie half-raised a hand, his fingers twitching in mid-air before he stilled. His expression was openly hesitant and unsure. He looked at Steve as if he needed some kind of cue.

And it was still new, still so incredibly sudden, but Steve wanted him. He liked him.

So, he plucked up his courage and closed the distance. He didn’t kiss Eddie but he wrapped his arms around the metalhead’s torso and pressed his face near Eddie’s neck. Eddie sucked in a breath, but immediately hugged him back, holding on a little bit too tightly, but the desperation of the touch only made Steve relax into him more.

He felt Eddie shift, noticed the hesitation a moment before he felt Eddie’s lips press down on the top of his head. Steve sighed and a second later, Eddie did the same, his arms loosening from their harsh hold to something sweeter. Eddie kissed him again, this time near his ear and he smiled.

“Steve,” Eddie whispered. “I’m not… I mean – fuck it. Could I see your face, sweetheart? Could you… could you just. I mean. This is real, yeah? You’re kind of… you like me back, right?”

Pulling back, Steve caught Eddie’s nervous gaze as it darted over his face, clearly trying to work out where they stood.

“I like you back,” Steve agreed.

Eddie’s breath left him in a shaky, relieved exhale, and, because Steve didn’t do things by halves, he leant forward and caught Eddie’s lips in a chaste, but genuine kiss. When he pulled back, Eddie’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were turning pink.

“I’m not here to have sex with you though,” Steve said, grimacing a little. “Well, not yet. Sorry.”

Eddie laughed, sudden and incredulous.

“Fucking. You don’t have to say sorry. Jesus H. Christ. You like me, Steve. You… you kissed me.” He smiled, the expression so wide and delighted. “Christ. We can take as long as you like with the rest of it.”

Steve smiled back. “Okay. Good. But, we can still spend the night in your bed, if you want? We can cuddle and shit. Sound okay?”

“Okay? Okay. Oh sure, just another fucking dream of mine. Christ.”

Eddie continued to smile despite his cursing. He also grabbed Steve’s hand, linking their fingers and squeezing, perhaps a bit too tight, but Steve squeezed back. Eddie tugged him through the trailer, seeming to bounce the entire way there.

When they reached the bed, he did briefly hesitate, a faint flush on his cheeks, like maybe he was remembering what he’d been thinking about the last time he was there. Steve blushed as well, but he didn’t let it stop him from taking off his shoes and jacket and climbing onto it.

The moment he was on the mattress, Eddie came alive again, muttering about getting the trailer ready for bed. He rushed back out into the living room, locking up and turning off the lights; nearly tripping as he crashed into something on his way back. Steve stifled a fond chuckle.

When he came back in the room, the only light in the trailer was the lamp by Eddie’s bed. It illuminated everything, including Eddie’s uncertainty as he sat down on the bed before tentatively laying down on his side. Steve rolled over so they were facing one another, near enough that with a small movement, they’d be touching.

“Hey,” Steve greeted quietly.

Eddie swallowed. “Hey, Stevie.”

Sensing that Eddie wasn’t going to be the one to move, Steve shuffled closer. Eddie bit his bottom lip but raised his arm, wrapping it around Steve’s waist and helping to slot them together.

It was nice, but Steve had other plans. He gently pushed Eddie onto his back and laid down with his head on Eddie’s chest, and, because they were right there, he started tracing one of the tattoos on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s breath caught before he released it in a deep sigh. The hand that had been on Steve’s back, gently started to run up and down his spine.

The quiet was nice; comfortable and relaxed, but with the light still on, Steve knew they weren’t going to be sleeping soon. There was something about Eddie that gave Steve the impression he still had something he wanted to say.

After a few minutes, he finally did.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you thought it was Wheeler, for a while. What made you think it was her?”

“Oh. Well, I worked out that whoever they were, you liked them. I just didn’t get why you wouldn’t tell me about a girl you liked. The only way it made sense was if it was about my ex.”

Eddie’s fingers started tapping against his back, a thoughtful if anxious rhythm.

“Eds?”

“And you… even knowing it was her… you didn’t want...?”

Steve shifted his head, looking up and seeing Eddie’s hair over his face again, gaze averted to the ceiling.

“If it was her that I wanted instead of you?” Steve asked softly. Eddie wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he shrugged a little, making the answer clear. “No, Eds,” he promised. “It was you.” He shifted forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s slightly stubbled jaw. “I was jealous of Nancy being in your bed, of some guy being in your bed.”

Eddie turned his head away, but Steve could see the pink flush overtaking his face and neck. Steve grinned, feeling his heart swell at the sight and only wanting to flatter Eddie more.

So, he kissed him again and continued, “It’s you I want.” He moved to his cheek. “It’s here I want to be.” Then, right beside his ear. “I’m lucky to be here.”

Eddie made a noise and he turned his head. His free hand cupped Steve’s cheek before he pressed their lips together in a kiss. Steve melted into the embrace, kissing Eddie back and trading soft kisses until, when they finally parted, their lips were swollen and their breathing a little heavier.

Eddie smiled and gave him one final peck on the lips, then the cheek and the nose. Steve scrunched it up and Eddie laughed. He also shifted a little, contorting his back to reach for the lamp and turn it off.

They plunged into darkness, but the moment he was back lying comfortably on the bed, Eddie grabbed one of Steve’s hands and linked their fingers. Steve laid back down on Eddie’s chest, their bodies wrapped around one another so that it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended.

And as Steve closed his eyes, lulled by the sound of Eddie’s soft breathing and heartbeat, Steve already knew he wouldn’t have any more nightmares tonight.

How could he? He had Eddie right beside him, holding him tight and offering him so much to look forward to in the morning.