Archive of Our Own

Eddie and Robin sat shoulder to shoulder at the bow of the rowboat, leaning against each other for support.

“I'm still not convinced he isn't going to murder us,” Eddie whispered into her ear.

“I'll go high, you go low?” Robin suggested under her breath.

“Mmhm,” Eddie agreed, their defense plan now set.

Steve turned to face them. “Okay,” He said, his lips quirking into an easy smile. “Who’s ready to fish?”

Eddie and Robin blinked at Steve through their respective sunglasses, neither of them sharing his enthusiasm. He stood at the center of the boat with a fishing pole in each hand, a pail of bait, a scoop net, and two small coolers at his feet, all geared up for an afternoon that he was supposed to be sharing with Dustin, until the kid canceled on him last second. When Steve had called Eddie and Robin that morning, they assumed that they were just going to lunch because Steve didn’t have plans anymore. But then he was driving them to the lake afterwards, insisting, “this will be fun, we’re having fun,” whenever they tried to bring up any discussion or disagreement about it. By the time he had gotten them into the boat and cast off with everything that he had piled into the trunk of his car, their fate was sealed.

Eddie rolled his neck, already past his limit. “Look man, I'm sorry that Henderson ditched on your little father/son fishing trip, but why are we here?” He asked, gesturing to himself and Robin.

“You said you’ve never been fishing before, so I’m taking you fishing,” Steve huffed, as if the answer was obvious. “Plus, I already had everything packed,” he muttered as an afterthought, leaning the fishing rods across the bottom of the boat and running a hand through his hair.

“I told you he was upset,” Robin said to Eddie in a stage whisper.

“I’m not upset,” Steve snapped defensively, placing his hands on his hips for emphasis.

“Of course not, dude. You just dragged us out here because this is something we allll wanted,” Eddie shot back sarcastically.

“I bought you both lunch- and you got a milkshake,” Steve pointed an accusing finger at Robin, then looked at Eddie, “and you got an extra order of fries.”

“I did get a milkshake,” Robin whispered, turning to Eddie for help.

Eddie gave Steve a devilish grin, “so, extortion is your game.”

“More like a quid pro quo… that you have no choice in,” Steve shrugged shamelessly, “unless you plan on paying me back some other way.”

“Are sexual favors on the table?” Eddie quipped.

“Ha, that’s cute, very cute,” Steve rolled his eyes, settling down on the center thwart and picking up a fishing rod, “come bait your hook. We’re fishing. End of story.”

Eddie looked to Robin expectantly, gesturing for her to go ahead with a wide sweep of his arm.

“Oh no, this one is all you,” she scoffed, pushing her round sunglasses up her nose and sinking back into her seat.

Eddie sighed. He really didn’t want to do this, but Steve was giving him that look: the classic Steve Harrington puppy dog face. It wasn’t even a sad face, it was cocky, a look that said ‘I know I’m going to get my way, so you might as well just come over here.’ It was infuriating. The man thought that he could make anyone do anything because he was so fucking handsome and cool and-

Eddie got up, taking careful steps to the middle of the boat before placing a foot on either side of the center thwart and sitting down. Steve flashed him a triumphant smile and pressed the fishing rod into his hand. Eddie accepted it reluctantly, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the collar of his shirt with another sigh. He could have sworn that Steve’s eyes followed the pull of the fabric under the weight of the glasses, tracing over Eddie’s collar bones before he quickly switched his attention to the pail of bait at his feet. But that couldn’t be right. Steve must have just been looking at the sunglasses- they were his ray bans after all. Eddie had swiped them off of the dashboard of the bimmer earlier for a joke with Robin, and then never took them off afterwards.

Shaking the thought from his mind and coming back to himself, Eddie startled when Steve was suddenly dangling a dirt flecked worm in front of his face. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite,” Steve cooed at him mockingly, having noticed him flinch.

“Careful Harrington, you just gave me a weapon,” Eddie replied darkly, gripping the fishing rod like it was a club.

Steve chuckled, dropping the worm into Eddie’s hand and then grabbing the second fishing rod and bait for himself, beginning his demonstration on how to secure it to the hook. Begrudgingly, Eddie mimicked each of his movements, managing to skewer his own worm on the third try, and only stabbing himself in the thumb once. It was a gross process, but strangely satisfying. Steve then went over the parts of the fishing rod; the reel, the bobber; and then how to cast the line. Eddie wanted to be grumpy and defiant throughout the tutorial, but it was hard to when Steve spoke to him without condescending, his explanations succinct and direct. Meanwhile Robin kicked back, watching the exchange between the two as if this was her favorite comedy show.

Eddie shot her a dirty look as he wound up for his first attempt at casting. He was sure that it would be a disaster, so in his head about it that he nearly jumped when Steve’s hand slid over his own, adjusting his grip placement. Somehow the contact helped Eddie relax, bolstered by Steve’s easy confidence in him. Shit, was this what having a positive paternal role model was like?

He took in a focused breath and then cast off the port side of the boat, the line giving a satisfying zip as it flew across the water, submerging a decent distance away, though not as far as he had been aiming.

“Not bad,” Steve smiled, giving Eddie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he zeroed in on Robin. “Your turn, let’s go.”

“No no no no,” Robin groaned in protest, becoming dead weight as Steve tried to pull her up.

The boat rocked dangerously as the two struggled, so much so that Eddie barked at them to cut it out before they all ended up in the drink. Robin took the opportunity to dodge around Steve and snatch up the scoop net, declaring that she would be in charge of it as her fishing contribution, silently praying that she wouldn’t actually have to use it.

Steve reluctantly agreed. It did allow him a chance to fish since they only had two rods, so he wasn’t too annoyed about it. With everything settled, he sat back to back with Eddie at the center of the boat and cast his line off the starboard side.

“Sooo, what? We just sit here now?” Eddie asked, his knee bouncing restlessly as the silence of the lake pressed in around them.

“That’s the idea,” Steve nodded, flipping open one of the coolers and handing a beer to Eddie.

“That’s more like it,” Eddie smiled, passing the beer to Robin then taking the next one that Steve held out.

“Look who's having fun now,” Steve teased, clocking Eddie’s expression.

“I’ve never had fun in my life,” Eddie replied coldly, his face completely deadpan.

“Were these for you and Dustin?” Robin asked, looking at her beer suspiciously.

“No, I packed them for us when that little butthead canceled on me,” Steve said defensively.

“Drinking our feelings away, are we Harrington?” Eddie joked, elbowing him playfully.

“Shut up.”

A couple hours of light conversation and a few beers later, they had yet to catch even a glimpse of a fish. It was like the lake was completely empty. Eddie fidgeted with his reel, debating if he should reset his line yet again. He was getting better at it, had even let out a proud yip after his last cast since it had been practically perfect. Steve and Robin had both given him long looks in response, Robin’s being purely judgemental and Steve’s being annoyingly smug.

Okay, so fishing wasn’t completely terrible- but casting was really the only good part, the waiting afterwards was mind numbingly dull. Eddie had yet to find the charm in it. Even with booze and company, this was the last way he wanted to be spending his afternoon.

With Steve behind him, Eddie reclined against his back, Steve’s weight balancing them out like two legs of an archway, comfortably meeting in the middle. Steve was warm, the muscles of his back the perfect cushion against Eddie’s spine, sliding and shifting every time Steve moved, either flicking his line, gesturing while he talked, or bringing his beer to his lips.

Eddie sighed. The three of them had been silent for a while now, the sounds of nature filling the spaces between their individual thoughts. Eddie’s flitted between his growing hunger, growing boredom, wishing that they had some music or that he had brought his guitar, and then to the comforting warmth against his back.

Steve's head rested on Eddie's shoulder, his breath tickling Eddie’s ear as he whispered a muddled string of words that sounded like, “get in the car, I know a place.”

“Hm?” Eddie perked up at the sound, craning his neck to look at Steve and noticing that his eyes were closed. When his brain had pieced together what Steve had said, Eddie furrowed his brows. Was Steve seriously asleep and dreaming about his car right now?

Eddie snapped his fingers at Robin, who lay at the bottom of the boat staring at the clouds. “Is he asleep?” He mouthed to her, pointing at Steve.

Robin sat up, looking over the man in question and pursing her lips to keep from laughing. “Yup, he is out,” she whispered back.

As if in confirmation, Steve let out a light snore, his arm twitching like he was changing gears, elbowing Eddie in the kidney painfully. “Okay, get him off me,” Eddie hissed. He was not dealing with this shit again.

After a series of awkward maneuvers and incessant giggling from Robin, Eddie was able to slip out from under Steve before they gently laid him back. Eddie shrugged off his jacket and placed it under Steve’s head as a makeshift pillow, though the bastard hardly deserved it.

Noticing a loop of metal that looked like a rod holder mounted to the inside lip of the boat, Eddie slipped his fishing rod into it, taking Steve’s out of his slack grip and securing it into a twin rod holder on the starboard side.

Now free from his fishing obligations, Eddie sat down next to Robin, pulling his bag over to them and digging out a red plastic basket of cold french fries wrapped in checkered paper.

“Is that from the diner?” Robin gaped at him.

“Yup,” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing.

“I can’t believe you took that!”

“You can get away with anything if you do it with enough confidence,” he winked, offering her a fry.

She glared at him, but took one anyway. “We should probably save some for Steve, since he paid for them,” she sighed, still feeling guilty about lunch.

“He can have some right now,” Eddie smiled, rising onto his knees.

“No, no, if you wake him up he’ll make us keep fishing,” Robin pleaded, trying to pull him back down to her.

“Us? You haven’t even done anything,” Eddie said accusingly, but then his expression turned mischievous. “And who said anything about waking him up?”

Intrigued, she watched as Eddie shuffled over to Steve, selecting a french fry from the basket in his hand. Then he carefully moved in, steadily tucking the fry behind the sleeping boy’s ear. Steve twitched at the contact, mumbling “mmm, not while I’m driving,” under his breath before settling, still fast asleep.

Robin was at Eddie’s side in a flash, taking another french fry and slowly slipping it into Steve’s hair without him even reacting. They took turns after that, like a game of reverse Jenga, finding more places to stash french fries on Steve without him waking up. Soon he had them in his hair, behind both ears, tucked into the collar of his shirt, and between his fingers, like he was a scarecrow made of food.

Eddie moved in with another, sliding it into the cuff of Steve’s blue crew neck. But as the fry grazed the inside of his wrist, he let out a groan and stirred. Robin grabbed Eddie’s forearm to keep him steady while Eddie clapped his hand over Robin’s mouth to keep her from laughing, the two holding each other in frozen terror as they awaited their doom. Steve smacked his lips and scratched at his chest, the french fries between his fingers rolling across his shirt. “Turn the music down… sss too loud,” he muttered, turning his head to the side and settling back into a comfortable sleep.

Robin and Eddie leaned back as one, retreating to their place on the floor of the boat as they snorted with laughter, in disbelief that they had gotten away with that.

“He’s going to be so mad when he wakes up,” Robin squeaked.

“Fuck it, let him,” Eddie said, continuing to eat what was left of the fries.

“Do you think a bird will try to eat him?” Robin giggled, looking at the mess of fries that were still scattered across Steve.

“One can only hope. That’s what he gets for dragging us out here,” Eddie scoffed. “What would you be doing right now if we weren’t stuck here?”

“I’d probably be with Vickie,” Robin admitted, suddenly growing shy, “maybe go for a walk together or something.”

“Nice, very cute,” Eddie nodded.

“What about you?”

“Oh, you know, either playing guitar or doing campaign work,” Eddie shrugged.

“You don’t have a special someone to spend the day with?” Robin asked.

“Nah. I’m afraid there aren’t any available suitors on my side of the rainbow right now,” Eddie sighed wistfully.

Robin raised an eyebrow at him, then started nodding her head and darting her eyes towards Steve suggestively.

“That's very funny,” Eddie scoffed, catching her not-so-subtle meaning.

“Who says I'm being funny?” Robin smiled coyly, looking at him over her sunglasses.

Eddie blinked back at her, unamused. “Why are you fucking with me right now?” He scowled, instinctively reaching for a cigarette.

“I’m not fucking with you,” she replied innocently, her voice pitching up an octave.

“Yeah, you are- you are making heavy insinuations knowing that they go against my cardinal rule,” Eddie shot back, putting the cigarette in his mouth. “I don’t fantasize about the straights, Robin, you know this.”

They had talked about it before, not crushing on straight boys was the number one rule in Eddie’s personal Munson doctrine. So of course he had never thought about Steve that way, why would he? Even without his rule, Eddie had spent so much time hating Steve in high school on principal alone that by the time they actually met and bonded, friendship was the only logical path forward. And that friendship was good! It was all Eddie needed.

Meanwhile Steve was still asleep, his face almost nuzzled into Eddie’s jacket, like he knew whose it was and wanted to be close to it.

No. Eddie was not going down this road. Sure, Steve was charming and conventionally handsome or whatever, Eddie wasn’t blind, but fantasizing about him was not a can of worms that he was about to open. He refused.

Before he could light his cigarette, Robin plucked it out of his mouth, earning a warning glare from Eddie. Before he could promise her that if she threw it in the water he would throw her in after it, she asked, “what if this didn’t break your cardinal rule?”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, his brain shutting down and rebooting at least three separate times before he could even comprehend what she had just said. He let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and desperately trying to keep it together. “Okay, I see what’s happening. Look, it’s very cute that you got a kick out of Steve snuggling me in his sleep the other day, but he did that while dreaming about some girl- so it didn't mean anything. Let it go.”

“It does when you know who he was dreaming about,” Robin shot back.

“No, it- wait, did he tell you?” Eddie’s eyes widened in shock and realization. Of course Steve had told Robin, Steve told Robin everything! And it only made Eddie just a teeny bit jealous, just the littlest tiniest bit.

Robin chewed her lip, suddenly realizing that she had said too much. “Uh, yeah… he might have…”

“Who was it?” Eddie perked up, his heart suddenly racing.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Robin said shortly.

“Oh, come onnn Buckley, you gotta at least give me a hint,” Eddie pushed, “was it a girl from the video store?”

“No.”

“From school?”

“Everyone in this town went to our school, so…”

“But it’s someone I know,” Eddie said, remembering that Steve had let that slip the other morning.

“I mean…” Robin thought aloud but then stopped herself short, “Wait, no, I’m not answering that- or anything! Steve will tell you when he’s ready.”

“Why are we talking about this then?” Eddie deflated, leaning his head back and pulling his hair over his face. “Jesus Christ, Robin."

“Just forget it, okay? Forget I said anything,” Robin backpedaled desperately.

“Oh good, why don't I just do that then,” Eddie said mockingly, throwing his hands in the air.

This mystery was going to be the death of him, he knew it; and it was even worse that Robin knew the answer before he did. And now, because of her, his mind was buzzing, leaping and bounding headfirst into conclusion after conclusion. Because if Robin was right, and him pursuing Steve didn’t break his cardinal rule because of who Steve had been dreaming about the other morning, that could only mean one thing: Steve had been dreaming about a guy.

No, no that couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be right. Because Steve was straight and nothing could change that- not even one bi-curious dream. Eddie had to let this go, there was another answer to the puzzle, the real answer. He just had to make Steve tell him.

Robin started bumping her shoulder against Eddie’s, trying to be cute so he wouldn’t stay mad at her. Eddie sighed, giving in and wrapping his arm around her shoulder so she could lean against him.

“I’m sorry,” Robin whispered, resting her head on his chest and handing him his cigarette back.

“You’re a nightmare, Buckley, you know that?” He huffed, stuffing the cigarette back in his pocket.

She grimaced, “yeah, I’ve been told.”

Eddie pressed a kiss into Robin’s hair, reluctantly accepting her apology. He could never stay mad at her for long.

Robin opened her mouth to say something else but then stopped, tilting her head to the side. “What's that sound?”

Eddie froze. He could hear it too. A familiar zipping noise.

“Shit!”

The reel on Eddie’s fishing rod was spinning, the line unraveled as the bobber was pulled under the water by whatever was on the hook. Eddie lunged for the fishing pole as it rattled in the rod holder, threatening to come free. At the sudden lurch of the boat, Steve startled awake, his arms flying out to brace himself as he sat up, then looked down. “Is there a reason I’m covered in french fries?!” He stammered.

“Fuck the french fries! Come help me!” Eddie shouted at him, fighting to reel in the fish.

Steve stood, french fries continuing to shake off of him as he came to Eddie’s side. Immediately, Eddie tried to push the fishing rod into his hands, but Steve pushed back, coaching him through what to do instead. It wasn’t long before the three of them fell into a chaos of shouting:

“Just reel against the drag, against the drag-”

“What does that mean? Speak English!”

“Where did I put the net? What do I do with the net?!”

“Don’t rush it, slow down- now pull up, pull up.”

“I Am Pulling!”

“I got the net!”

“That’s it! Keep it steady!”

When the fish finally broke out of the water, Eddie was sweating, sitting down hard as Steve pinched the line and grabbed the fish, Robin slamming his fingers with the metal rim of the net as she tried to scoop it away from him.

“I got it Robin! Ow, stop! Stop!” Steve shouted at her, retreating to sit on the stern thwart to unhook the fish in peace.

“What is that? What the fuck is that?” Eddie asked at full volume, adrenaline still surging through his body.

“It’s a bluegill,” Steve reported, trying to hide a smirk.

“What? Let me see,” Eddie stammered, stumbling over to Steve.

Steve held out the fish, pinching it between his thumb and index finger to hold it steady.

The thing was tiny, barely three inches long, dwarfed further by Steve’s hand.

“Are they, uh… are they usually that size?” Robin asked over Eddie’s shoulder, standing behind him as they watched the little fish twitch and gasp.

“Well, they can grow to be between seven to twelve inches, give or take,” Steve elaborated, trying to be kind. “But this is great, Eds, you caught your first fish. Nicely done.”

Eddie looked like a deer in the headlights, gaping at the baby fish just as blankly as it was gaping back at him. “You’re telling me that allll of that, was to catch this?” He panted, his eyes flashing.

“I mean, considering that it was the only catch of the day, that’s pretty good,” Steve said sweetly. “You should be proud.”

“Yeah, it's a… great fish,” Robin agreed, cautiously squeezing Eddie’s arms in a gesture that was supposed to be supportive but looked more like she was holding him back.

“Mhmm, great, yeah, may I?” Eddie asked, trembling as he took the fish from Steve, cupping his hands around it. The bluegill flopped against him, trying to escape, tiny and pathetic and stupid. Eddie wanted to hate it, to kick it back into the water for the waste of time and effort that it was. But as he held it up to his face and looked it in the eye, he couldn’t help but soften.

“Do you want to throw it back?” Steve offered.

“No! Why would I do that?” Eddie snapped.

“I mean, we can keep it if you want to eat it, I just didn’t think-”

“We’re not eating him,” Eddie cut him off sharply, “this fish is my prisoner now. Get him water.”

“Prisoner?” Robin raised an eyebrow at Eddie.

Steve opened the second cooler and hastily dumped out the ice before refilling it with lake water. Setting it down, Eddie tenderly placed the fish inside, the three of them hovering over it as it acclimated to the water then started swimming in desperate circles.

“What do bluegills even eat?” Robin wondered aloud.

“I have no idea,” Steve shook his head, a stray french fry still tangled in his hair.

Clocking it, Eddie plucked the fry off of Steve and dropped it into the cooler without a word, the fish darting away from it at first but then nibbling at it curiously. “Mystery solved,” Eddie smiled, picking up the cooler and holding it to the sky, “From this day forth, ye shall be known as Dustin Henderson Jr..”

Steve and Robin burst out laughing. “Why are we naming it after Henderson?” Steve snorted.

“Because if it wasn’t for that little turd canceling on you, I never would have caught him,” Eddie replied matter-of-factly, suddenly proud of his achievement.

“Aw, looks like your special someone is a fish,” Robin teased.

“Robin, I have so little in my life, do not take this from me,” Eddie hissed at her angrily.

“Woah, okay!” Steve interjected, surprised by the sudden intensity between his friends, “why don’t we call it a day, yeah?”

“Yes, thank god,” Robin rejoiced, hurrying to set the oars back into the oar locks so they could leave.

Steve took a step towards Eddie, kicking at the french fries scattered across the bottom of the boat. “So, are you gonna tell me why I woke up covered in french fries?”

“Depends,” Eddie shrugged, giving him a devious smile, “are you gonna tell me who you were dreaming about the other night?”

Steve sighed through his nose. “Okay, good talk, man,” he said dryly, clapping Eddie on the arm and stepping around him, effectively ending the conversation. He wasted no time reeling in his own line, bickering with Robin as she kept trying to rush him towards the oars while he was still putting everything away.

Eddie chuckled and sat down at the stern, cradling the cooler in his lap and tracing a finger through the water, mindlessly watching Dustin Henderson Jr. dodge and weave away from him. Recounting what Steve had mumbled during his latest dream, Eddie wondered if Steve’s mystery dream crush had been in this one too, what they had been doing, where they had been going.

“Get in the car, I know a place.”
“Mmm, not while I’m driving.”
“Turn the music down… sss too loud.”

Steve couldn’t hold out on him forever, and having Robin in the mix certainly tipped the scales in Eddie’s favor. Though she was a loyal friend with the best of intentions, she had already proved that her secret keeping abilities were lacking. If Eddie was clever, he could surely get more hints out of her. Bullshit aside, he had learned one thing for sure; it wasn’t a girl from the video store. That certainly slimmed down his list of suspects.

Eventually, the three made it back to the dock and tied off the rowboat, Steve taking the fishing rods and bait pail while Robin held the beer cooler and Eddie carried the cooler with Dustin Henderson Jr. in it.

“Admit it, you had fun today,” Steve prodded Eddie as they walked back to the car, Robin lagging behind the two boys.

“Yes, congratulations Steve, you have officially healed my childhood,” Eddie joked.

“Good,” Steve replied smugly, pulling his sunglasses free from Eddie’s shirt, putting them on, and flashing him his most dazzling smile, “mission accomplished.”

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, his chest tightening as he watched Steve walk towards the bimmer. He had just imagined that, right? Steve hadn’t just used his signature Steve Harrington Flirtatious Grin on him, right? The one that Steve used on girls that he was attracted to, right?!

Steve had never used that smile on him before…

Robin caught up to Eddie then, pausing to lean on his shoulder and whisper, “just so you know, he called you first this morning after his plans got canceled.”

She left him with that thought, continuing to the car while Eddie remained frozen, the butterflies in his stomach flapping wildly and tearing his Munson Doctrine to shreds. He swallowed hard, “Henderson Jr., I think we’re in serious trouble.”

With everything packed in the trunk and the fish secured, Steve steered the car back towards the road. In the passenger’s seat, Eddie dug for the Black Sabbath tape that he had left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago and blasted the music through the speakers, desperate for anything to help him regain his sanity.

“Turn the music down, it’s too loud,” Steve snapped at him, fighting him for control of the volume knob. “Jesus, I’m having deja vu with you, man.”

The next day, Eddie laid on his couch balancing a pencil on his upper lip, lost in thought. Campaign notes were spread out across the coffee table, completely untouched since they had been placed there that morning. Currently, he was doing his best to think about anything that wasn’t Steve, and utterly failing.

He had been caught off guard yesterday, but Eddie could put a lid on this, could get his emotions in check and continue forward with a level head. He was fine. Everything was fine.

A knock at the door made him jump, snapping him out of his mental paralysis. Simultaneously glad and annoyed at the interruption, he stood, ruffling his bangs as he crossed to the door. Opening it, he froze as he came face to face with the devil himself: Steve Harrington.

Steve smiled at him warmly, “hey.”

“Hey,” Eddie echoed, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep his heart from escaping his ribcage.

“I, uh, took a trip to the pet store this morning and got some proper food for Henderson Jr.,” Steve explained, shaking the container of fish flakes in his hand.

“Ooo about that…” Eddie grimaced, leaning against the doorframe, “I’m afraid he didn't make it through the night…”

Steve stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah…” Eddie confessed, remembering how he had found the fish floating belly up in the cooler this morning, “I flushed him a few hours ago so he could go back to the sea; gave him a nice little send off and everything.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you on a septic tank?”

Eddie froze, realization hitting him like a brick wall. “...Yup, I did not think of that,” he muttered, kicking his toe against the floor, feeling justifiably stupid. “You, uh- you didn’t tell Henderson that I named a fish after him, did you?”

It was Steve’s turn to grimace. “I may have let that slip, unfortunately, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Eddie sighed. “He’s gonna be pissed that it died.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna live that one down, man,” Steve said apologetically.

“Nope, definitely not…” Eddie deflated.

“I guess we'll just have to go fishing again so you can catch another one,” Steve grinned.

“Nice try, dude. You'd just fall asleep on me again.”

“I didn't fall asleep on you.”

“You literally did. And elbowed me in the back too,” Eddie recalled. “So I guess you owe me two secrets now, one for my shin and one for my back.”

“Ha, you wish,” Steve scoffed.

“Maybe I do.”

Steve paused, searching Eddie’s face with an amused gleam in his eye. “Okay, do you want one right now?”

“Hit me,” Eddie shrugged, fighting to keep cool. Was this it? Was Steve going to tell him who he had been dreaming about?

Steve took a breath and said, “I’m not surprised you killed the fish.”

Eddie blinked at him. “That’s not a secret, that’s just hurtful.”

“Dude, you fed it a french fry and wanted to leave it in the cooler with the lid on.”

“It lives in water, why would it need air-” Eddie cut himself off, not wanting to rehash the argument they had had yesterday. “You know what Steve, get off my porch. Return the fish food while you’re at it.”

Steve cursed under his breath. “I didn’t keep the receipt.”

“Just eat it, then,” Eddie offered, completely straight-faced.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, Goodbye Munson,” he said dryly, turning on his heel and stalking back to his car.

“Bye. Good luck. Maybe try seducing the pet store lady into giving you your money back,” Eddie called after him.

“Hell no, that woman is like 80 years old,” Steve scowled over his shoulder.

“That’s a good amount of time to learn a trick or two. Might be worth it,” Eddie reasoned, shouting so Steve could still hear him as he retreated to the street.

Steve opened the driver’s side door of his car, pulling a childish face and mockingly repeating Eddie’s words under his breath as he slipped inside. Eddie couldn’t help but smile; annoying Steve was always a good time, a real staple in their friendship.

But as he watched Steve drive away, he couldn’t deny the buzzing warmth in his chest. What it meant.

‘Serious trouble’ had been an understatement. Eddie was fucked.