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Eddie had a thick skin, okay?
He had to, growing up how he did, with who his parents were. He learned young to let names and taunts roll off of him. By the time the slurs get added to the mix, it was practically background noise. He’d take a thousand muttered ‘ queer ’s over an unexpected dunk in the toilet or hard slap on the back any day.
That didn’t necessarily mean he liked it, though.
And, look, Steve wasn’t the only one from highschool who called him names. Lots of people did. But none of the other jocks who bullied him had since dragged his dead weight from another universe, helped get his name cleared of murder, and, most recently, wanted to start a tentative friendship with him.
Eddie wanted that, too, he thinks. They’d grown closer in the days since he woke up in the hospital, but he was still holding a part of himself back. And, sure, Steve seemed like a nice enough guy, now, but there was still a bit they needed to talk over. A beef that needed to be squashed, as it were.
(It didn’t help that, when he thought back on it, he was pretty sure Steve introduced that word into the school’s collective lexicon, back before even he had heard it thrown at him by an angry father who had caught him with the wrong type of skin magazines. Part of him wanted to ask, how the hell did Steve know before even he did?)
And he knew about Robin, now. Even knew that Steve knew. That he was fine with it. That maybe he had changed. That maybe he wouldn’t punch him in the face if Eddie wanted an apology before they could set off on some sort of epic bromance, or watch sports on Tuesdays together, or whatever else straight guys do with each other.
So, he’d have to bring it up. And, well, if it went poorly, at least he could skip town with his diploma now.
~.~
He decided he’d bring it up after a Hellfire session, hosted at Steve’s place. He could probably arrange something with Nancy for her to pick everyone up, so he or Steve didn’t have to do drop offs, and he could help clean before he brought it up. And, if even he had to admit he was waiting until the last possible minute, that even he knew he had about a fifty percent chance of saying anything at all, maybe ever, because he still could be a big fat coward sometimes, well, no one had to know that but him.
~.~
The opportunity made itself available less than a week later, as Nancy was more than willing to be a taxi for a night once Eddie hinted at what he needed to talk to Steve about. She knew what Steve could be like at his worst, and she wasn’t stupid. She knew he had to experience him at his worst far more often than she did, when they were younger.
And, once she knew, once she had validated his feelings , in a way, it was like the dam broke. Not only did he decide he was definitely going to bring it up with Steve, why the hell should they get to jump into a friendship without at least clearing the air first, but he had written a speech. Ha, Harrington. Take that.
Granted, it wasn’t a particularly long speech, especially for someone used to writing entire campaigns, because he wanted to be able to memorize it, it’d be embarrassing to read it off of a piece of paper, and he only had a day. But it was written down. It existed.
Day of, however, some of that bravado had drained out of him. Walking up to the Harrington’s door, his main emotion was low level nervousness.
Steve, of course, seemed to catch on that something was off relatively quickly. When Dustin asked, mere moments after being let into the house, who’d be bringing him home, Eddie cut in that he’d asked Nancy before Steve could either offer his services or ask Eddie to take them this week. (He usually followed Steve’s lead. What? The guy was already offering up his house for a game he didn’t even play. The least he could do is not force him to waste his gas if he didn’t feel like it.)
After that, it looked like Steve was glancing at him more, looking almost…guilty? Ah, so maybe he does suspect. If he’s already looking at Eddie like he feels bad, maybe this won’t be so hard, after all.
Not that he wants Steve to feel bad. It’s just, you know, probably better than him getting mad that he even brought it up, and then punching him in the face for daring to be gay in his presence.
Eddie may have been thinking up worst-case scenarios in some of the later hours of the night, the past few days.
When Nancy walks in at 9 o’clock sharp, telling the kids to get in the car without giving them a chance to help clean up, Steve doesn’t protest. After they hear the final slam of a door followed by blessed silence, indicating that the kids had left, Eddie feels a sense of calm wash over his body.
Steve opens his mouth.
“Wait,” Eddie says, holding up his hand, “I know what I want to say to you, but I want to do this first.”
Steve closes his mouth.
As they clean in silence, Eddie can feel the tension building. Steve looks a mix between distressed and thoughtful.
Trying to loosen up the mood, because he genuinely didn’t want to make this harder than it needed to be, Eddie directed Steve to the couch before making his way to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers. Just a casual conversation about previous usage of hate speech, Eddie snorts to himself.
In the minute he was gone, Steve seemed to have riled himself up. “Eddie, I should have said this sooner, I’m-”
Eddie holds up his hand. “Let me talk, okay? Please? I just…I want to make sure you know what hurt me, you know? So we can move past it. And I know you’re actually sorry.”
That shuts Steve up. “Of course. I just, I probably hurt you a lot, so-”
“I mean,” Eddie starts, then takes a deep breath. Begins what he memorized. “Steve Harrington, you and your friends put me through hell in high school. Just because you never got your hands dirty and just because you weren’t the worst of them doesn’t mean what you said didn’t bother me.”
“I know, Eddie, I’m so sorry I-” Steve cut in when Eddie paused in what he would soon find to be dramatic effect.
“BUT,” Eddie cut in louder, continuing his speech, “I am willing to forgive and forget. You were part of the crowd, just going along with others, most of the time.”
“That doesn’t excuse it, I’m-”
Eddie barely even registers him talking now, he’s on a roll. “But you were one of, if not the first, person to call me a,” he stumbles over the word, even though he throws it around now, sometimes, in the right circles, like a badge of pride, “a fag.”
At that, Steve pauses, looking almost confused. Eddie would have probably gotten mad at that, or at the very least would have mirrored his confusion, if he had been paying attention.
“It’s just, it caught on after that. Everyone started calling me that, it really stuck.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, realizing that Eddie was hurt, and he felt bad that Eddie was hurt, but seemingly unclear as to why, “Sorry about that, man, I mean I know it’s not like, the nicest-”
“And I didn’t even know yet, you know,” Eddie said, not even noticing that Steve had spoken again. “I didn’t even find out what it meant until, like, six months later, and at that point I didn’t even know that was an option.”
Steve cocked his head, “Know what was an option?”
“But, like, you’ve been cool with me so far, and, like Robin said you were cool with her-”
“What does Robin have to do with this?” Steve said, finally getting louder, seemingly concerned that he’d accidentally insulted his friend.
Finally, Eddie stops. Registers Steve’s words. Freezes. “Wait, she said she told you. I-”
“Told me what?” Steve said, looking even more confused.
Eddie suddenly realized he needed to tread very carefully. Sure, Robin said Steve, without a doubt, knew she liked the fairer gender. Joked about her lack of a love life. Often, even. That didn’t mean he was gonna risk outing her, in case he forgot or something. “Robin told me that you know she likes…you know.”
His eyebrows scrunch together as Steve looks at him for a second before his eyes suddenly go wide and his jaw drops. “She told you she likes boobies?”
Eddie stopped, then. Not exactly how he would have worded it, but at least they were on the same page about that. “Yes, okay, so you know that, good. Well, since -”
“Why did she - Did you ask her out or something - no, she would have told me, right?” Steve said. Eddie truly felt like they were having two completely different conversations now. Steve shook himself, “No, first question first, what does this have to do with Robin? I never called her names.”
“Steve.” Eddie said, because he feels like he needs to state the obvious at this point. “You called me a faggot in, like, fourth grade.”
Steve looked at him like he thought he had some further conclusion to make. When it was clear he didn’t, Steve said, “And?”
Eddie was a bit at a loss for words, which is unlike him. “You don’t have any idea what might be a bit at odds with having a lesbian best friend?”
Steve looked around, as if someone was about to jump out and tell him Eddie was pranking him. “No.”
A thought popped into Eddie’s head.
No.
That was ridiculous.
“Steve.” Eddie said. “What does faggot mean?”
Steve rolled his eyes, relaxing a little. “It’s just, like, a basic insult. You know. It’s, like, one of the worst ones, for when you’re like, really pissed at someone. You know, jerk, asshole, faggot. You leave faggot for people who you think are like, worse than assholes. I guess that was pretty mean, you’re not so bad.”
Eddie was speechless.
Alert the media.
Noticing the look on Eddie’s face, Steve got less confident in his answer. “What?”
“That’s not -” Eddie starts, pauses, throws his hands up. “No.”
“What do you mean, no? ”
“I mean, no, that’s not what it means.” Eddie all but shouts.
Steve stops and seems to think about it, before throwing him a smile. “Very funny, Eddie. Okay, then, what does it mean?”
Eddie had fully lost the plot at this point, but was reasonably sure Steve honestly, truly did not know that the word he had used liberally throughout middle and high school did not have a meaning past ‘general asshole.’ So, he took a deep breath and decided he’d have to explain. “Steve,” he started, gently, because he didn’t want to make this harder on the guy, “it’s a slur.”
The head tilt was back. “What’s a slur?”
Eddie’s head fell to his hands and he groaned out a quiet, “oh my god.”
Steve blinked at him.
Eddie took a deep breath. “Steve.” he began, more firmly this time. “It’s an insult. For gay people.”
Steve’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“Gay men specifically.”
He looked at him, fear flooding his features, “What?”
Eddie wasn’t exactly sure how to go from here, honestly. He’s got Steve sitting here, clearly feeling bad that his insults had hit a little too close to home for little Eddie, even though he had no clue what they even meant. Apparently.
“It’s-it’s fine-well, it’s not, you’re not even really supposed to say it unless you’re into men, but-”
“No,” Steve interrupted, again, but this time Eddie finally let him. It certainly couldn’t hurt at this point. “That was terrible of me. Even if I didn’t know what it meant, I saw everyone else taunt you, too. And how many other people called you that after I started it. It wasn’t right, and I should have apologized before. I can’t imagine how terrible it was, everyone looking down on you for that. Especially when you’re not!” Steve said, with a level of certainty that made Eddie snort before he could stop himself.
“Right! Good one, Steve.”
Steve looked at him again, and oh, no, more confusion. Will it never cease?
“Steve, come on. We went to high school together. Look at me. I’m gay. You know this. Everyone knows this.”
Steve, clearly, did not know this, and seemed flustered that he was being come out to. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I didn’t know I needed to trust you! I thought you already knew! You saw Tommy H write ‘Eddie Monson Sucks Dick Under The Bleachers’ on my locker!”
“I tried not to listen to rumors after I started dating Nancy!”
“I didn’t get the janitor to take it down for, like, three days! I kept telling people it was advertising! I think I told you it was advertising!”
“Come on, man, that was clearly a joke.”
Eddie stopped, then. “Well, yeah, mostly. I have some standards. But I probably would have tried hiding it better if I didn’t know for a fact everyone already knew I was gay as a fucking rainbow!”
Steve seemingly did not have a response to that.
~.~
Later, they sat next to each other, nursing their beers.
Steve mumbled to himself a bit while he picked at the label. Eddie picked up a, “But if it - then why did he -” Which, nope, that was not his thread to pull.
“I used to wonder how you, like, knew, man.” Eddie finally broke the relative silence. “I didn’t even know.”
“Dude, I literally didn’t.” Steve said. “I didn’t know until you told me tonight.”
This was actually, sort of, the least of their concerns tonight, but also, since they had gotten through the explanation, and the apology, Eddie just needed to make sure. “And…you don’t mind, right?”
Steve looked him in the eye suddenly, clearly trying to appear earnest, “No, no. Of course not, Eddie. You’re…You’re my friend, who you’re into won’t change that.”
Eddie smiled. “We’re friends?”
“I hope so.” Steve responded.
They lapsed into a much more comfortable silence.
~.~
That was, until Steve rather suddenly and unceremoniously leapt to his feet.
“I need to apologize to Johnathan!”
Eddie tilted his head up to look at him, bewildered. “Huh?”
“I called him a - I mean, I called him that word once when this all started, I thought Nancy was cheating on me with him. Which, now that I know what that means makes no sense, actually.”
“Oh.” Eddie said. “Well, it’s kind of late, isn’t it?”
“Not really, three hours ahead.”
“Still kind of a weird evening call, right? Sorry I called you a gay slur after I thought my girlfriend slept with you. Not to be confused with the time my girlfriend broke up with me and then started dating you.”
Steve put his hands on his hips. “I’m not going to put it like that.”
“It’s held for three years. It’ll hold for another ten hours.”
Steve rolled his eyes and huffed before falling back into his seat, more dramatically than he usually would due to the hour or the weight of the discussion they had had. Eddie idly thought it was a little adorable.
Wait, what?
~.~
Eddie went home not long after that, promising to give Steve a call to let him know he got home safely.
Before he left, Steve had said, “I really am sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have, you didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Me not knowing isn’t an excuse. Thank you for forgiving me.”
Eddie smiled. “That’s all I wanted to hear, after everything. To know that you really have changed.” The smile turned a bit sharper. “The fact that you were only unintentionally a homophobe was an interesting twist.”
Steve sighed. “You’re never gonna let that go, huh?”
“Not as long as you wanna stay friends!” He said, jokingly, before saluting and heading out the door.
~.~
And that was how things went for them, in the next few months. They grew closer, started hanging out one on one. Talking more, joking more. They started hanging out less out of obligation, or boredom, and more because they wanted to.
On one such afternoon, Eddie was sitting on his mattress tossing a ball up and down, speaking idly to Steve as the other man flipped through an old magazine.
“You should come to a show Steve, the crowds are really starting to fill out, there’s a real energy to them now. Really starting to feel like they’re coming for me more than the cheap beer. Hell, just this week there were like, dedicated people there, you know? And I did my usual, like ‘hell yeah, these are my friends and I’m the faggot from Corroded Coffin,’ and they were like -”
He stopped, because Steve was looking at him like he’d just been slapped.
“Eddie.” Steve said, quietly, almost scared.
“What?” Eddie responded, completely confused.
“Eddie.” Steve repeated. Jesus, was he shaking? “Eddie, you can’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“ That word .” He was getting more desperate.
Steve couldn’t mean - “Faggot?”
Steve flinched with his whole body. “ Eddie .”
Eddie grinned. “Steve, you know I can say fag whenever I want, right? Because I am one?”
“But,” Steve said, as if hearing it three times in as many minutes while actually knowing what the word meant had addled his brain. “But you said it was a bad word. You said no one should say it.”
“No.” Eddie said. “I said you shouldn’t say it. Because you’re straight.”
( Unfortunately , Eddie thought, traitorously.)
Steve looked to the side, as if to reorient his thoughts. “Oh.”
Eddie smirked. “What, does it make you…” he leaned down and whispered conspiratorially, “Uncomfortable?”
“No! I mean, yes, but -”
Eddie’s smile widened, “Does that mean you think you can call me that, but I can’t call myself that?”
“Of course not! I-” Steve caught sight of Eddie, then, and sighed.
Eddie started laughing, “Dude, your face when I said faggot, you should have seen it, it was like I murdered your dog!”
“You drilled it into my head that it was a bad word! Sorry I was surprised to hear you use it so casually!”
Hm, Eddie thought, there’s an idea.
~.~
And, like he said, Eddie was known to throw the word around, in the right circles. On the right occasions. Amongst friends, while performing.
And, well. Steve was a friend.
~.~
It became strangely commonplace after that. Eddie would throw it around when Steve was hanging out. Not constantly, he had a verbose vocabulary thank you very much, but maybe once every other visit.
First it was just playing some of the songs he wrote, slowed down, to a speed where Steve could actually hear the words that were usually screamed.
Then it was calling himself one. It becomes what he calls himself in third person, just to see the look on Steve’s face when he does so.
Eddie’s learning that Steve is so expressive, which is why he keeps it up even past when Steve’s gone from flinching when he says it to being almost annoyed to finally landing on a long suffering but almost…fond? eye roll accompanied with, ‘you shouldn’t call yourself that so much.’
Eventually, it graduates onto jokes. Because Steve knows he’s not making them at anyone’s expense.
And that’s where things get…complicated.
~.~
Eddie’s bothering Steve and Robin at work when it happens.
Robin’s in the back rewinding tapes, because some people simply did not want to be kind, so Steve was stuck manning the front by himself. Luckily, it was a Tuesday morning, so no one had seen fit to rent a movie just then.
Currently, Steve and Eddie were discussing their evening plans, since Steve didn’t work tomorrow. They were planning on watching a movie and ordering in a pizza.
“How about that new one that just came out, Labyrinth ? The kids saw it, said it was pretty good.”
Eddie nodded, “Yeah, that’d be good. Should be fun. And hey, Bowie! He’s cool.” Looking at Steve like it was an inside joke, “Us fags gotta stick together, right?”
Steve looked almost sad, which wasn’t his usual reaction. “Sorry, man, wasn’t he married? Like, to a woman? I don’t know who told you Bowie was gay, but I think they were lying.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I know that. He’s bisexual. Likes both. Or, like, he did. He walked it back a few years ago but I’m not totally convinced he wasn’t just pressured into it, yanno?”
But, as he turned his head, Steve wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. Steve seemed to be staring directly at his aging BMW, which was parked outside and at the other end of the lot.
“Steve?”
Steve snapped out of it. “Sorry, what?”
“Bowie-”
“Likes both?” He said, sounding slightly frantic.
“...Yes?”
“Like, men and women?”
“That’s what both means in this context, yes?”
His voice goes up an octave as he practically yells, “You can do that?”
And. Look. Third times the charm on senior year aside, Eddie isn’t stupid. He sees the pieces of what’s happening here. They’re all lined up, nice and neat, ready to be put in a pretty little picture.
But, damn, if Eddie can’t put them together just yet. Because, no way. no fucking way.
(And even when it does click, only for a second, he says to himself, no, it’s wishful thinking, even if he was, he couldn’t want me .)
But Eddie can’t exactly vocalize his thoughts on any of this, so instead he says, “Yeah? If you want? I mean, I don’t, to be clear.”
“No, no,” Steve says, still clearly flustered, and Eddie loves when Steve’s polite midwestern ways cut through even his most clear moments of confusion. He really does. “I didn’t mean that, I just meant, you know. In. In general.”
“In general, yes. People can do that. If you’re attracted to them.”
“Huh.” Steve says, now staring down at the counter. “Huh!”
“Huh!” Eddie said, still not exactly sure what’s happening here.
Which makes Steve look at him, finally, before his eyes widen and he practically runs to the back of the store.
“I just forgot - I have to help Robin with the - shit,” He says as he gets his vest stuck in the lock somehow, “Listen, I’ll see you tonight, okay? Normal time!” Before he shuts the door and Eddie is left alone at the front desk.
Well. That was strange.
~.~
So when he showed up at Steve’s house, right around eight, he wasn’t exactly sure what awaited him. He was hoping that whatever came over Steve was resolved, so they could have a normal evening.
He realized as soon as Steve answered the door that that would be…unlikely.
First, Eddie was used to hanging around the door for a minute, giving his usual shave-and-a-haircut, two-bits and then expecting to wait another few moments before Steve reached the door at his usual leisurely pace. If he really felt like getting on Steve’s nerves, especially if it was just late enough in the morning where he was probably awake, but maybe not, he would start ringing the doorbell incessantly. Steve always gave him one of his looks but hadn’t told him to stop, and sometimes Eddie saw Steve fighing against a smile. So he would continue to do it. Just, you know, not ever when he’s actually tired from a long shift at work. Eddie’s not a monster.
So, when he barely gets through shave-and-a- before Steve opened the door with a breathy, “Eddie, hey.” He’s a bit surprised. Especially since Steve looks almost sweaty, like was running around. Did he run to the door or something?
And that’s when he sees Steve’s outfit.
Because he has seen Steve around town with his dates. And that is absolutely a shirt Steve wears to dates.
~.~
The pieces, against Eddie’s better judgement, are clicking into place.
Steve held the door open for him, even while he bitchily told him to take his shoes off, which was another clue. The guy was polite, but not that polite.
And then Steve said, “I thought maybe we could order in something a little nicer than pizza? My treat, whatever you want.” And Steve won’t even buy him an order of fries at the arcade, no matter how many times he points out that he grew up in a trailer park.
That wasn’t to say that Eddie didn’t get fries, oh no. Steve would simply buy himself the fries some fifteen minutes after Eddie asked for them, saying, oh, you know what, you made me realize I felt like some. Then he would eat maybe three before deciding they’re too greasy and gives the rest to Eddie. This happens every week and the fries are always too greasy, so they both knew exactly what they’re doing, but if that’s how Steve wants to deal with people over the age of sixteen blantantly asking him for money, he can respect that. Also, it’s their thing , and Eddie likes having those with Steve. But, long story short, if Eddie wanted to mooch off Steve and his inevitable trust fund they at least pretended to do a little dance first.
Steve offering? When no one else was even there? Unheard of.
Eddie stared at him. The picture was coming into view and he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it.
And maybe he was modest, in this particular area, because holy shit, have you seen Steve? Steve who is definitely painfully, hopelessly straight? Never in a million years, if you asked him even this morning. But he wasn’t blind.
And something changed in him a little when he got eaten alive by bats. Before that, he was a runner. And he still was, but he was better at picking his battles now. Because, sure, he had some nasty scars and was in a coma for three days, and when he did wake up he got five separate earfuls (in order: Dustin, Steve, Nancy, Uncle Wayne, and, most confusingly, Jim Hopper, recently found not-dead), but they were all alive. All of them, even when he could practically feel how close a call it could have been for Steve, Nancy, and Robin. So, no matter how stupid it made him feel, he did pick slightly more fights than he did a year ago. Stands his ground more. Not all the time, but when it matters? It feels like walking over broken glass, sometimes, but he does it.
And this? Yeah, it matters.
So Eddie narrows his eyes. Considers. Smiles, slow.
“Does Enzo’s do takeout?”
~.~
This was definitely a date.
Eddie was confident.
…Ninety percent sure.
(Okay, seventy-five).
Because that dinner suggestion was a challenge, right? Everybody knew Enzo’s was the Date Place to have Very Nice Romanic Dates with Very Nice Romantic Food. Sure, you could go there platonically, but you’d be the town gossip the next morning if you did. And, yeah, they’re planning to eat it in front of the TV and watch a kid’s movie, but it was the nicest restaurant he could think of. And Steve just smiled when he suggested it.
But now, they’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch, and Bowie’s doing something improbable with some stairs, and Steve is just kind of. Looking at him. Sneaking glances.
And he’s not moving any closer.
And. Well.
Eddie’s not totally sure if Steve knows this is a date.
~.~
By the end of the movie, Eddie couldn’t take it anymore.
After they’d eaten, and Steve had returned with a bowl of popcorn, he ended up sitting slightly closer to Eddie. Not close enough, but closer. And he kept making this abortive gesture with his arm, like he wanted to put it up against the top of the couch, almost around Eddie.
It was driving him a little insane.
So he waited until the credits rolled and took a deep breath. And then another. And really considered whether it wouldn’t be smarter to just walk away.
But he was reasonably sure Steve wouldn’t punch him in the face regardless.
“What are we doing here man.”
Eddie said it like a statement, and Steve looked at him like he was electrocuted.
“What?” Steve said, shocked, but Eddie just stared at him flatly.
Steve slumped. “I told Robin what you said, about Bowie, and I was like, did you know this, and she was like, of course I knew, dingus,” he made his voice go up slightly higher in a poor imitation of his best friend, “and I was like, why didn’t you tell me??? And she was like, why did you need to know???”
Eddie kind of wanted to stop Steve before the inevitable crash, but he was a bit shocked into silence that Steve was going to talk about this so willingly.
“So I told her, that, uh,” Steve paused before saying, “It doesn’t matter,” in a way that meant it mattered fucking a lot, actually, “And she told me not to make it weird. But I think I made it weird. Uh.”
“Steve.” Eddie said, slight edge to his voice, “I’m going to say something and I want you to try not to punch me.” He held up his hand to Steve’s protests, he was pretty sure he’d be fine, but who knew at this point, “Are you or are you not aware that you gave me the date treatment tonight?”
Steve slumped in on himself a bit more. “I didn’t really notice until I went to pick up the food. And then I felt bad because it’s not like I asked you out or anything. So I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t already treating it like a date.”
Well. “And you’re…okay with dating me?” Eddie was reasonably sure he was, but he wanted to make sure. He was still a bit surprised even though this wasn’t completely out of the blue with Steve’s. Everything today.
“Uh,” Steve said. “My conversation with Robin may have been about how much I had been wanting to date you if you were a girl. And how I had like, fantasy dates planned out with you if only you were a girl. And how I would fantasize about kissing you and stuff. But you didn’t like, look like a girl. Or really look different at all.”
“What.” Eddie wasn’t sure if this was normal behavior or not, but he wasn’t exactly expecting that to be Steve’s confession.
“And then Robin said I might be a little repressed. And we kind of figured out I might have a crush on you. But I didn’t want to cancel on you because you didn’t do anything. And I’ll get over it, I promise.” Steve gave Eddie a winning smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“What!” That wouldn’t do.
“And I’m sorry I tricked you into a date, that wasn’t cool. I’ll just clean up, hopefully we can stay friends once I-”
“Hey! HEY!” Eddie finally cuts him off, “I never said I minded!” which apparently is so shocking to Steve that he stops dead in his tracks.
“You-you want to date me?” Steve said, eyes wide.
“Yes?” Eddie said, and, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “I let you pick the music in the van every time I drove you somewhere for the past month, Steve.” Because that was basically a declaration of love to him, when Steve’s music taste is so radically different from his own. Not that Steve knew that until now.
“But,” Steve said, “Aren’t you, like, concerned I’m using you as an experiment or something?”
Eddie quirked up an eyebrow. “Are you?”
“No!” Steve said, “But wouldn’t you think that?”
“Not really,” Eddie said, “If you wanted to experiment you probably wouldn’t have pulled out the dinner and a movie. Straight guys aren’t really super into, like, holding hands and cuddling. And,” Eddie said, finally getting to the real reason, “I trust you not to do that, Steve. We’re friends.”
“Oh,” Steve concluded, seemingly surprised that Eddie liked him despite his history but not really wanting to question it. “Hey, do you want to make out?”
Like Eddie was about to say no.
~.~
And, later that night, Steve proved to himself for sure it definitely wasn’t just an experiment.
~.~
The next morning, Eddie lazily smoked a cigarette with one hand and mildlessly traced circles on Steve’s back with the other, before a thought occurred to him and he started giggling.
Steve turned to face him.
“You’re allowed to say fag again.”
Steve shot him with a look. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, no, this is great. You can say you were just repressed and didn’t know how to deal with your anger instead of you not knowing it was a slur.”
He wrinkled his nose in response, “Honestly, I don’t really like it that much anyway, now that I know what it means. Even if I do -”
“No need to get graphic, Steve-”
“Like you.” Steve finishes.
“Oh.”
They sat in comfortable silence once again.
“So,” Eddie said, changing the subject. “What’s this about fantasizing about going on dates with me?”
~.~
For their second (“First!”, “Second, Steve, we were both seeing it as a date, it was a date!” ) date, Steve took them to the drive in the town over, so they could neck and no one would recognize either of their cars.
On the way home, Eddie was in a particularly happy mood, which was probably why he was saying whatever popped into his head.
“Hey,” He said, “I could call you a fag now, and it’s not even mean! It’d be like, bizarro world role reversal!”
Steve, thankfully, wasn’t about to get offended by something like that. He simply rolled his eyes fondly before telling Eddie, “Whatever you want, darling.”
Which caused Eddie to blush.
~.~
Eddie did start calling him that, though. Occasionally. When they were alone, of course.
In response to small things, mainly to make Steve give him his fond little eyeroll. “A hey fag,” here, a “you’re my faggot” there. Steve would respond with a “darling,” sometimes, making him weak at the knees quicker than he would care to admit. It was stupid. It was them.
~.~
He realized a mere three months into this thing that they were doing that his tone, when he called Steve that, had taken on a very odd tone of affection. The same one that he got when he said Steve’s name.
It was a tone that, if you didn’t hear the words coming out of Eddie’s mouth, you would assume was saying ‘love.’
Which was a little terrifying.
~.~
And he was trying to stay honest in his relationship with Steve, okay? He didn’t want things to go up in flames because they didn’t talk about things, which Steve made him very scared of when they started all this.
He was jotting down notes for the next campaign in his bed, Steve curled up to his chest, listening to a Sabbath cassette on Eddie’s walkman. It was playing far too low for Eddie’s tastes, and Steve didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it, but he told him he was trying to get into it a little. Since it was so important to Eddie, and Steve at least wanted to know if he was actually any good at playing guitar or if everyone was lying to him.
Eddie sighed loudly, causing Steve to pull off the headphones in concern. “It has come to my attention that I am in love with you.” He said aloofly, and what the hell, why did he sound like an uptight lord from a regency novel? He coughed, “I mean. Sorry. I realized that I’m in love with you and I didn’t want to make it weird. So I’m telling you. I know it’s early, you don’t have to say anything back.”
Steve looked at him like he didn’t quite believe him, until his face broke out into an enormous grin. “I love you, too, darling.”
Eddie’s head snapped towards him, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Even though it is early. Shared trauma, or whatever Nancy said, I guess. But I do.”
Eddie tackled him, notes forgotten. After they were breathless and giggly, Eddie mumbled into Steve’s shoulder, “I love you, fag,” with more emotion than Steve had ever heard put into the word before, and if he starts to feel happy tears well in his eyes, that was no one’s business but his own.
~.~
Everyone finds out less than a month after, so the timing works out.
They weren’t planning to hide anything, of course, and Robin already knew. They couldn’t exactly hide it from her, what with her helping Steve speedrun a sexuality crisis only for her to see him two days later for their shared shift looking particularly relaxed and happy. When she asked, he didn’t even hide it, told her he and Eddie were going to try it out and see where it went, and she was regularly updated on their relationship.
(“More than I’d like to know, honestly!” When Steve asked, without even really meaning to, if that thing Eddie did with his tongue was out of Cosmo like he suspected or if there was a more likely place for a metalhead to have heard about it.)
But they hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone else. Not on purpose, because they hoped that, once they saw another universe, two of the guys who helped you save the world from that universe kissing a little wouldn’t bother them too much. But because they were a bit distracted. They weren’t purposely hiding anything, they just didn’t say anything outright.
~.~
“Get out of my way, fag.” Steve said, nudging Eddie away from the stove. He’d taken to using it every so often when they were in private, just a little joke between the two of them. He was pretty sure he’d never use it like Eddie did, like it was any other word around the right people, and even now he was afraid his partner would be hurt by it. But Eddie just smirked at him, clearly preparing a comeback.
They heard a gasp from next to them.
“ Steve! You can’t say that!”
The problem was, they weren’t in private. Dustin was looking at Steve like he had just brutally beaten Tews to death with his bat.
“Dustin, I-“
“Just because Eddie calls himself that doesn’t mean you, as a straight person, can just use it whenever you want. He got this through to me, Steve, you should be able to grasp the concept.”
“Dustin, I’m not -“
“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry !”
“I’m not straight!”
That at least stopped Dustin in the middle of his tirade. Very quickly, he decided the best course of action was not only to course correct, but to also speak to Steve like he was two.
Earnestly, and so calmly, Dustin looked up at Steve. “Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with us. But our words still can hurt, and did Eddie know this? You really should apologize.”
Steve put his face in his hands as he listened to Eddie laugh. As he shook his head, he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face.
~.~
And, as much as he claimed to hate the word, Steve only ever protested Eddie calling him that once, since he knew that, between them, it meant love. It was a disgusting, hateful little thing. But not for them. It was their history.
“You are not calling me that in your vows!”
But Steve had a line.