Archive of Our Own

Steve doesn’t feel it immediately. For a couple of seconds he just stands there, looking. The world around him moves like they’re all stuck in honey, even slower than slow motion, everything muffled to his ears and he can’t understand anything. It’s just like in a movie, the scene after a big explosion, just a ringing sound, everything else slowed down to an unrecognizable blur, before the hero really wakes up, regains consciousness, snaps right back into action.

Steve doesn’t snap back into action.

His body gets it, before his brain does. When he hears the scream, he doesn’t realize it’s himself. Doesn’t recognize his own voice, doesn’t even really hear it. He feels his knees hit the floor, hears the thud of his own body falling, but it’s still like everything is wrapped in clouds of cotton or a better fitting, less peaceful analogy, because this, this is not peaceful.

This is Steve’s worst nightmare.

It’s the worst thing Vecna could have done to him.

Vecna, who is dead now. Who pulled one last victim with him into the fangs of death.

Steve’s soul. His person. His best friend. The most important girl in the world. The most beautiful thing his hell of a life had to offer.

The next hours, fuck, the next days just pass him in a blur. Steve doesn’t remember what happened. He doesn’t remember how they got out, doesn’t remember a hospital or the physical pain, or eating or getting up and out of his bed, or his bed, or anything really.

He just feels numb. Like he’s not there anymore. Like not just a part of him, but everything died with her.

With Robin.

Because Robin is dead.

She’s dead.

And Steve’s not.

And Steve knew the world was unfair, but this-

This is…

He doesn’t know. Doesn’t have the words for it. Because Robin’s not there anymore to help him with it. She always knew what he wanted to say, found a way of expressing it that Steve would have never in a million years thought of himself. She got him. Understood him. Every part of him. Parts that he didn’t even understand himself.

She loved him. She was the only one who ever really, truly loved him.

And she was taken from him.

And everything in this goddamn town, every store, every crack in the street, every person reminds him of her.

So he can’t stay. He just can’t. He writes apology goodbye letters, packs his bag (a single bag…he really doesn’t own anything that matters) and then he’s gone. He cries on the highway on his way to the airport, sight blurry the whole way, but not about Robin. Never about Robin.

He has to leave, has to get away, awayawayaway, buys a plane ticket. Gets on the plane, flies to London, sleeps on a park bench the first two nights. Gets a job in a coffee/music shop that also sells books (?) (he doesn’t question it), finds a small shitty apartment. Doesn’t know how he manages all that. Doesn’t care either. About nothing. He’s still just numbnumbnumb and when he wakes up in his own puke one day because he might have gotten drunk yesterday or he might just be fucked up in every way, who knows, certainly not Steve, he just cleans it and doesn’t even bother wondering what happened.

Life just goes on. And it makes him sick. He keeps breathing as if nothing happened and he gets mad at his lungs. He keeps opening and closing his eyes, keeps cracking his knuckles when he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. He hates his body. Hates the way it just keeps working, the way everything does what it’s supposed to do and he just-

He can’t be fine. Robin is dead. He’ll never see her again. Never hug her again, inhale her scent and feel comfort. He’s damned to be cold till the end of time. But he can still see, unlike Max. He knows what it feels like to have bats digging into your flesh but all of his nerves are still intact and he can walk without limping, unlike Eddie. And he’s still fucking breathing.

Which is why he can’t even-

He’s thought about it. About adding more scars to his collection and how he would feel it, unlike everything else, but…but he couldn’t get himself to do it in the end because he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He doesn’t deserve the delicious pain, because he doesn’t even want to be reminded that he’s still alive, he’s not, not really.

And he can’t- he can’t think about them now, can’t do this, because about Eddie and Max and Dustin and Will and Lucas and…all of them, about them, he can cry. So he keeps them out of his head for as much as he can, blocks his thoughts out, builds up walls around him to not let them get into his head from over 4000 miles away.

He just ignores everything. He’s numb and dead inside and he keeps going to work and paying his rent and eating if he doesn’t forget.

And the days pass. They pass and they turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months and suddenly, it’s been two years. Two years and he still hasn’t even shed a tear about her.

He kinda hates himself for it. But he just can’t, he can’t. He cannot do it.

Think about her. Deal with it. Cope.

He can’t.

So it’s been two years and he doesn’t think about it, think about anything really, he just goes on about his life.

He’s not alive, he exists. Hardly.

“I lost my sister,” he tells people when they ask about his grief or that one photo in his wallet he never looks at.

“Accident,” he says when people are rude enough to keep digging. Because he can’t say an asshole monster tore her body in half right in front of my eyes, made me watch as he took the best thing in the world and ripped her dead, stole her life, now, can he? Sometimes he wishes he could. Tell the truth and see the horrified look on their faces, make them wonder how in the world he could possibly joke about something so horrific, see the flash of ‘oh shit, he’s insane’ in their eyes.

How Steve wishes it was a joke.

He still hears her. All the time. It doesn’t matter the situation. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the dark of his apartment after nightmares kept him up and he hears her soothing voice saying something along the lines of “It’s okay, Steve, I’m here, breathe”, or if he’s out and about getting a coffee and walking through the rain of London, when he randomly hears her crack a bad joke or hears her laugh in his ear like she’s right behind him.

It feels good, somehow. He knows it’s not real, knows he’s delusional and probably clinically insane but…but she helps him after the nightmares. She calms him down. She’s there to laugh at a bad joke when nobody else is. She’s…there. With him, at all times.

Sometimes he likes to think it’s her ghost, clinging to him. It’s a weirdly comforting thought and honestly, it wouldn’t be the weirdest shit he’s seen. But Robin deserves not to be stuck with him here. He’d hate it if her ghost actually stuck around, just for his sake.

So he lives his strange, barely real life and tries his best to keep it all out. Not think about her but also not think about all the other people he left behind. The kids and Hopper and Nancy and Eddie-

God. Eddie.

Eddie and the thing that’d been blossoming between them, the thing that had Steve confused and giddy and happy, calling Robin after every single interaction he had with the guy, telling her how when they were watching a movie Eddie touched his knee for a while, how Eddie looked at him with those eyes, how he feels the same right, he has to, he does, I’m not imagining things and Robin would just-

Fuck. Robin.

Robin who’s gone.

It goes like that every time Steve loses control over his brain and every time he regains it just before he’d start breaking down and just busies himself with something, anything else. It works well enough.

Even though using the word well to describe anything in Steve’s life might be a euphemism.

Then, Taylor shows up.

Steve doesn’t know where he suddenly came from, but he’s convinced he’s gotta be an angel. He’s just there at work one day, introduces himself as a new coworker, mentions that he needs a roommate and only about two weeks later Steve moves all his stuff into a bigger apartment, because Taylor just has a way of getting to him that Steve can’t shake off. He doesn’t let Steve shut him out. He kind of bullies himself into Steve’s life and gets him to open up about stuff when Steve wasn’t actually planning on doing that.

Taylor doesn’t complain when Steve screams in the middle of the night, because she died in his dreams and when he wakes up she’s still dead. He just makes him breakfast the next morning and acts like nothing happened. Taylor doesn’t complain about the excessive cleaning on some days, he just does his laundry when Steve is wiping down the kitchen for the sixth time in one afternoon and chuckles at how mad Steve gets at the soap, because it’s not working well enough. He doesn’t complain when Steve locks himself in the bathroom for hours on end, just thanks him for being a wingman because he can use the shower of their hot neighbor and “blame his weird roommate”. He doesn't complain when Steve doesn’t feel like talking, just fills the silence with his own voice, or is silent with him, in quiet comfort.

Steve thought he’d stopped caring about shit for good, was damned to be numb for the rest of his life, but Taylor slowly brings feelings back. He remembers how to laugh, when they’re watching a dumb movie, remembers how to regret something, when he actually crossed a line and hurt flashed over Taylor’s face for a second. Steve remembers what getting attached feels like, is scared as shit as he mentally adds Taylor to the list of people he would take a bullet for in a second.

They don’t talk about it, the dark cloud hanging over Steve every day, at all times. Taylor never even acknowledges it. Steve is grateful for that.

He doesn’t want it to be acknowledged. Ever.

He’s fine just pretending it isn’t there. (He isn’t fine, not really.)

Talking about it doesn’t bring her back. So, whatever.

And he’s gotten pretty good at blocking it all out. Not just her, but all of them. He crammed them all into boxes in the back of his brain and slammed them shut.

Problem’s just that Taylor keeps making him crack open and- and that one of them has never fucking liked being put in boxes.

So Eddie keeps finding his way out of there. Keeps creeping back into Steve’s mind, keeps tormenting him with just the thought of him, until one night, it reaches a breaking point.

Taylor comes home right when Steve’s throwing up in the toilet bowl.

“Oh fuck.” He’s next to him in an instant, one hand on Steve’s back, the other grabbing a wash cloth. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“Hngh,” is the noise Steve makes and Taylor sighs, rubs his hand over his back and squeezes his shoulder. It’s so comforting Steve almost feels guilty.

“Okay, no talking, just let it out.”

He’s there with his hand on his back, when Steve hurls again, more of what little he had for lunch making its way into the toilet bowl, and he’s still there when Steve’s on the couch, twenty minutes later, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, an empty pot in his lap, because he can’t stop gagging, but his stomach’s got nothing left to give.

“Is there anything that you think could help?” he asks, his hand still on Steve’s shoulder. He still doesn’t acknowledge it. Just tries finding a way to make it better. Steve could cry. Only that he doesn’t really do that anymore.

Steve just stares at his deformed reflection at the bottom of the pot, and bites his lip. “I don’t know.”

And Taylor doesn’t press. Of course he doesn’t. He never does. Which is exactly what makes Steve crack. “Maybe,” he starts and stops, swallowing the lump in his throat and taking a deep breath. “Could I- would it be okay with you if I put some photos up?”

“Um.” Steve doesn’t look up but he can hear the surprise in Taylor’s voice. “Of course, Steve. Go ahead. You don’t have to ask. This is your home too, you know?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums and tries his best to hide how that statement doesn’t really make sense to him. His home too. Is it really? It doesn’t feel like it. Robin’s his home. Was his home. She was the first time he really felt like he belonged, ever.

He gags again. Taylor rubs his strained neck. Steve sighs.

_____

He looks at Eddie every day now. At all of them. The kitchen’s plastered with photos, with his friends, his family. There’s one of Eddie and Nancy that he stuck to the fridge, right in between Taylor’s go-to lasagna recipe and a piece of paper with someone’s phone number scribbled on (Steve has no clue whose, though). So he looks at them. A lot.

And he would have never thought it would- but it actually gets a little tiny bit easier. Over the weeks, the months, he starts to let them in a little. Bakes a cake on Dustin’s birthday and eats it with Taylor and Taylor’s one night stand in the middle of the night. Smiles when someone buys that The Clash album Jon never shut up about.

He still never thinks about her, never lets it get that far.

But time passes and he looks at Eddie every day and it mends a little tiny piece of his broken heart to have him closer. At least…from what it feels like.

Which does not mean, though, not in any way, that he’s prepared or anything even remotely close to fine when they’re opening up the shop one morning and Taylor says “there’s someone here for you mate” and then suddenly, after almost five fucking years, Steve is confronted with the sight of Eddie Munson.

In the flesh. In real life.

Just standing there in the place Steve ran away to, this stupid store that had nothing to do with Robin or any of them and now-

Now Eddie’s here.

In dark jeans. Dirty sneakers. Chains, a band tee, a leather jacket. His curls still falling over his shoulders, even a little longer than Steve remembers. And the most devastated expression on his face Steve has ever seen.

A wave of…something rolls over Steve, almost washes away all his walls at once.

“Eds,” tumbles off his lips before he can stop the words, pull them back.

He feels frozen. He can’t move. He’s ice cold. He’s burning.

He doesn’t know what to feel. He can’t. He just can’t.

“Steve,” Eddie says and it’s sort of quiet, intimate, hits Steve like a truck. Eddie says his name just like he did five years ago, when they were lying in his bed and Eddie reached over to brush a strand of hair out of Steve’s face and rolled away again and Steve wanted nothing more than for him to stay there, to pull him close, to kiss-

He blinks.

Eddie’s still there. Is this real? It can’t be real. He feels sick.

He blinks again. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening. He’s not strong enough. He takes a breath.

“What are you doing here?” he asks and his voice sounds weird. Distant, strange, like it’s not him talking. Is it him talking? He’s not sure.

“What do you mean? I’m here for you,” Eddie says and Steve can’t. Fucking. Do this. Eddie’s voice is…it’s too much. He can’t do this.

For you, echoes in his brain. I’m here for you.

Steve doesn’t understand. Why does Eddie even care? Steve left. He left and cut them all off, he crossed them out of his life and Eddie came looking for him?

“Why?”

“Wh-” Eddie makes a shocked laugh sound. Steve almost flinches. “What the fuck do you mean why?” He’s staring at Steve and Steve feels a weird shiver deep inside. “Because you hid away, Steve. You hid away for over five years and I came here to find you!”

Steve feels too much and nothing at the same time. He can’t deal with this. He can’t, it’s too much, it’s so much, he’s not used to feeling so fucking much. Eddie shouldn’t have come. He should have just let Steve stay here, working until he dies, until he can finally see Robin again, shit, fuck, he can’t do this.

“You shouldn’t have.”

Eddie frowns. “What?”

For a second Steve thinks Eddie didn’t even understand him, because his voice is too quiet, so quiet, but no. Eddie definitely understood.

“I just-” Steve shrugs helplessly. “You shouldn’t have come.” Eddie doesn’t deserve this. He should live his life, be happy, he shouldn’t even care about Steve.

“Steve,” Eddie says and there it is again, that fucking word, his fucking name out of Eddie’s mouth. Steve shivers for real now. “Please don’t do this. Don’t shut me out now. Please talk to me.”

He’s sort of begging. And Steve can’t handle it. He’s so- he’s so sorry. Why does Eddie still care? Steve doesn’t want him to care. Because that means he- he caused even more pain. And he knew it, of course he did, but he can’t-

“I uh, I’m gonna give you guys some privacy,” Taylor’s voice suddenly makes it through the fog in Steve’s brain and, to be totally honest, he kind of forgot he was here, but suddenly it feels like his friend’s his only lifeline. Taylor is here, Steve can make it through this. He has the last five years. He can.

“No!” Steve stops Taylor from pulling the door closed. “Taylor, don’t. Please, stay, I-I need you.” And fuck, his emotions are boiling over, he knows he won’t be able to compose himself much longer, keep this up, his facade, his walls, his fortress.

Taylor just raises his hands and nods. “Okay,” he says, voice so goddamn soft and caring and shit- he cares about Steve too, why do people care about him, he can’t handle it. “Oh-okay Steve, it’s all right. I’ll stay.”

Steve looks back at Eddie. Dares to.

For just one second everything else washes away. There’s just Eddie, standing there. So goddamn beautiful. He’s so beautiful.

Eddie’s talking again. It’s muffled, Steve’s hardly listening. “-can’t shut me out,” he makes out. “I flew all the way over here, I-”

And he looks so desperate, so helpless in a way that Steve can’t bear, that he blurts, “I didn’t ask you to.”

“No,” Eddie says and clenches his jaw. Fuck, now he’s mad. “No, obviously not. Because you shut me out. You shut all of us out. You cut us off and-” he scoffs. “Do you even know how hard it was to find you? Track you down? Just for me to get here and have to listen to you saying you didn’t ask me to come? Now, of course not Steve, I know that. Of course you didn’t ask me to come, how the fuck would you, when you haven’t talked to me in five years?”

He’s so angry. He’s so mad, his voice is so calm but loud and it cuts right into Steve. And he’s right, that’s the worst part. He’s right.

Steve tries taking deep breaths, tries to keep his heart from tipping, from spilling the emotions right into Eddie’s arms. “I just- Eddie, please, I can’t-” he pleads, begs almost, and breathes and he’s shaking now, but he thinks it’s mostly internal shaking. The worst kind. The one where the cold comes from the inside and there’s nothing you can do against it.

Eddie’s face hardens a little- He seems to sober up, stands up straighter, lifts his chin. “Have you even…cried about her?”

It takes Steve a second to process the words.

Then everything in him freezes. He straightens up, too. “Leave,” he says and his voice is strong and loud for the first time today.

Eddie takes a step closer, determination set in his face. Taylor says something, but Steve isn’t listening. He just sees Eddie and he feels pain in his chest, like he can’t breathe, and maybe he stopped. Maybe he actually stopped breathing. Maybe he’s gonna pass out.

He might pass out actually. And not just from a lack of oxygen but just pure panic. Everything’s too much. “Eddie, I said leave,” he grits out, using up all the strength he has.

“I heard,” Eddie says, voice loud and full. “But for once in my goddamn life, Steve Harrington, I’m not gonna cave when it comes to you. Because you’ve been running from us for half a decade and I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

That hits Steve right in the chest. Something cracks. He needs to leave. If Eddie won’t, then he needs to. Because he’s definitely not strong enough for this. He starts shaking again. “I am talking,” he tries, but he knows it’s bullshit.

Everything about him is bullshit.

“No. No, you’re not.”

Steve takes a deep breath. Even his lips are trembling. He’s so close to breaking down he can feel it.

“Eddie, please,” he whispers, begs, again. “Please, don’t do this to me, I-”

“Steve, he fucking took Robin from us!” Eddie might as well have slapped him right across his face. Steve flinches hard, his sight begins to blur, he’s shaking even harder. “But you’re still here! You might not have understood that, but I have. And I can’t keep grieving you too, please. We need you, Steve.” Eddie’s voice is softening. Steve’s ears are ringing. “We want you,” Eddie says. “We love you, we all love you and we can’t…I can’t- I’m here and I won’t lose you again, I won’t let you shut me out, or, or, or run away, I won’t.”

Steve stares at Eddie. At beautiful, strong, determined, beautiful Eddie, who’s here. Who says he loves him. Who says he needs him. Who says he’s been grieving him.

And Steve breaks.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t understand anything, but then there’s Eddie everywhere. His scent, his strong arms, his voice, it’s all around him and Steve thinks he’s crying and screaming, but he isn’t really sure.

He feels safe, though.

He can let go.

_____

When Steve wakes up, he’s disoriented. He’s warm for one, which is new. He’s warm and he feels safe, so safe and -oh yeah, right.

He’s in Eddie’s arms.

Steve melts further into his embrace and just…lets himself. He breathes. Eddie pulls him closer in his sleep and Steve sighs quietly.

Suddenly, he realizes that for the first time in five years he feels a tiny little bit at peace.

They shift together and Eddie pulls the blanket up further and Steve breathes against the soft skin of Eddie’s neck and- god, he feels like crying again. He sort of feels like he doesn’t deserve this because this- it- it feels so good.

He slips back into sleep before he can think about it more.

When he wakes up again, he’s still curled into Eddie’s chest. He’s still safe. He’s a little overwhelmed, hardly knows what to do with himself. He feels Eddie stir again, as if he can feel whenever Steve wakes up.

Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead. Steve’s breath hitches. “Hey,” Eddie rasps, his voice thick with sleep. It’s some time in the afternoon, they must have slept for hours. Steve doesn’t mind. His sleep schedule’s fucked anyway and Eddie’s probably still jet lagged.

“Hi,” Steve whispers back and looks up. Eddie smiles at him and it’s so soft Steve feels a slight pang in his chest.

“How’re you feeling?” Eddie asks and rolls Steve even more on top of him, starts running his hands over Steve’s back. Steve wonders if Eddie knows how comforting it is to feel him breathing so closely. It seems so definite. Eddie’s breathing. He’s alive and well and breathing. And here. With Steve.

“I-” Steve isn’t really sure what to say to that. “I’m not sure. A little…freed,” he settles on saying because it’s true. He does. There’s…something gone that’s been constraining him, caging him and it’s Eddie who made it go away. Eddie and his strong arms that held him while he cried for hours. That are still holding him. Grounding him.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “That’s good.”

They don’t move from their position in bed. They stay there, tangled together and Eddie gets Steve to talk. He doesn’t really know how he does it, he just knows he has a way of cracking Steve open, like Taylor only a hundred times as strong and Steve’s talking, really talking, about all of it, about Robin, and it feels so good. It feels…nice. Like he’s being understood. Being listened to. Eddie is listening, Eddie is understanding, Eddie doesn’t…he doesn’t hold anything against him, he’s so good.

Eddie tells him he loves him.

It makes Steve so sad, because- because he caused so much pain.

Eddie tells him it’s okay. Says it like he means it. Steve can breathe.

Steve loves him too. He doesn’t say it.

Eddie tells him about the kids. Tells him about where they live, what they do, Lucas plays for a big college team, Max can see a little, Jesus Christ. El finally does whatever she wants.

Steve gets hit by wave after wave of longing. Missing them. They hold pieces of him; when Steve left they carved out parts of him to keep. Or he did. Fuck, he misses them so fucking bad. He tells Eddie as much.

“They miss you too,” Eddie promises. Insists. Steve’s not so sure he believes him. They talk more and Steve breaks down again, presses into Eddie’s chest as he cries and Eddie just lets him. Holds him tight. Is there for him.

Fuck, Steve’s his, right? If Eddie’ll have him, he can. Forever.

“Eds,” he whispers, when the tears aren’t suffocating him anymore.

“Mhm?”

“You know I love you back, right?” He’s still whispering, still not looking at him, drawing a pattern on Eddie’s chest with his finger. Eddie takes a deep breath. Nods against the top of Steve’s head. “Yeah, I think, I do,” he whispers into his hair. “I think I do.”

And then he pulls Steve even closer.

Steve rests.

_____

Taylor made dinner. Eddie and him talk about something, laughing, when Steve joins them after a shower. He’s still miserable, but he’s facing his feelings and he didn’t know how right that would feel. The sight of Eddie in their kitchen makes his stomach flutter.

This is your home too, he hears Taylor’s voice saying years ago. This is the first time it sort of feels like it. Now with Eddie in it.

Maybe Steve got it wrong all this time. Maybe Robin was never the only thing that made him feel at home. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe she was the biggest part, but not the only one.

The food tastes really good. Eddie smiles at him and Taylor seems a little happier than usual and Steve- Steve can breathe.

_____

Eddie stays for a week. Steve breaks down a lot, Eddie’s there every time. Steve loves him.

He misses Robin. He misses her so much.

Eddie understands. Steve loves him.

When he zips up his backpack, ready to leave for the airport, something’s wrong. That sight doesn’t sit right with Steve.

So when he asks Steve to promise never to shut him out again, Steve doesn’t answer. “Steve?” Eddie steps closer and reaches out. Steve takes his hand and promises him, just-

“Yeah?” Eddie’s so gentle with him. Steve leans into his touch, when Eddie cups his cheek, closes his eyes. He’s so safe. “What is it?”

See, the thing is, if Eddie leaves, Steve’ll be missing him again. Like he misses all of them. His family.

He misses them, he’s been missing them and for the first time he realizes…

That he doesn’t really have to.

So, “I think I wanna come with you,” he says.

_____

Eddie sleeps on the plane and Steve loves him.

He. loves him.

_____

Eddie drives them to Hawkins and Steve loves him.

_____

“It’s like that bible story,” Eddie says when Steve admits how scared he is to face everyone again.

“What?” Steve asks, perplexed, because did Eddie Motherfucking Munson just say ‘like that bible story’?

“You know the one about the lost son or something. I don’t really remember but I think it fits, right? They won’t be angry, Steve. Maybe they’ll call you an idiot for leaving, or stupid, but they won’t mean it. They will just be so happy to see you, sweetheart. Look, take me for example, I was angry but- but it was nothing like the intense relief and love I felt when I finally knew I had you back.”

Steve stares at him. He remembers the story actually. From back when his mother would drag him to church every Sunday, in an uncomfortable suit and with a grip on his arm so tight Steve still sometimes thinks he can feel when he thinks about his parents. He didn’t like church.

But he always liked that story. It comforted him in a way. That love like that could exist. That maybe, someday he would find somebody to love him that much; so much they would be happier about him coming back than they would be mad at him for leaving. It kinda feels like fate that Eddie brings it up now.

So, “it’s like that bible story,” Eddie says and Steve loves him.

_____

“Welcome,” Eddie says, when he opens the door to his and his uncles house. It’s cute. Homey. It screams Eddie and Wayne and solely for that reason Steve’s already comfortable. “Gimme,” Eddie says and reaches for Steve’s jacket, pulls it off his shoulders, hangs it up on the coat rack.

It’s so soft.

Steve’s so in love with him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, toes off his sneakers while Eddie bends down to untie his boots.

“Ed, boy, is that you?” someone asks from one of the rooms down the hall and Steve’s heart tightens a bit. Wayne is- fuck, he missed Wayne. “Your annoying little menace’s here, I think she’s been missin’ ya.”

“Shut up, old man, I know you love me,” another voice quips back and Steve feels like he can’t breathe. Erica.

We’re good in Hawkins, actually. We’ve got each other’s backs, he hears Eddie say in his head and a small smile settles in the edges of his lips.

“Eddie? Your uncle’s bullying me,” Erica says and her voice is coming closer and Steve’s so not ready for this, oh god.

“I thought you were 16 and can fend for yourself?” Eddie calls back. “Don’t tell me a fragile, little man can get to you.”

And Wayne shouts something like “Ey, I heard that, boy,” but Steve, Steve’s not really sure, because suddenly…

There she is. Standing in the door of what he presumes to be the kitchen and she’s- god, she’s so- she’s…

16.

Yeah.

She looks good. Healthy. Happy.

But then her smile falters. And Steve’s heart grows heavy.

“Hi,” he says quietly. Tries a wave, but feels stupid doing it. Clears his throat, doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Throws Eddie a glance who just smiles and nods at him reassuringly.

“You fucker,” Erica then exclaims and Steve’s breath hitches, but before he knows it Erica sort of comes running and Steve doesn’t know if she’s just gonna swing at him or-

She crashes into his chest and hugs him. And she’s a little taller than she was, but she smells the same as years ago when she fell asleep on his shoulder at movie nights. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her tight.

Steve feels like crying yet again. She pulls away a little, stares at him.

“You goddamn idiot,” she says and swats at his chest with the back of her hand, before hugging him close again and burying her face in his chest. “I missed you.”

“Get ready for that exact same reaction from Max,” Eddie says from behind them, amusement but so much fondness in his voice and Steve feels warm. He drops a kiss to Erica’s head, because for as much as she’s grown, she’s still pretty short.

“And Dustin,” she adds, mumbling into Steve’s chest. Steve smiles. “And probably stupid Mike Wheeler.”

“I missed you, too,” Steve says instead of anything else and Erica just squeezes him tight once more and then lets go.

“Yeah, you better have,” she says and then looks over at Eddie, smiles.

“Hi Sinclair,” Eddie drawls. Erica rolls her eyes and goes to hug him too. “How’ve you been without me? Just fine? Or has my sweet, old uncle been torturing you?”

“More like she’s been torturin’ me,” Wayne’s voice says and Steve spins around. He’s standing where Erica stood just a moment ago. He smiles. He looks older too. But settled in a way he wasn’t really before. Really alive, somehow. Like he’s had time for himself, like he’s been doing what he loves. And judging from how the yard looked when Eddie pulled into the driveway earlier, he probably has been.

“Hi there, Steve,” he says, voice gruff but smile and eyes so soft. Steve swallows.

“Come on, let’s make coffee, go to the living room and start catching everyone up,” Eddie says, puts a warm hand on the small of Steve’s back and gently pushes him forward. Steve goes easily, would go anywhere Eddie guides him and when they’re next to Wayne, the old man’s smile deepens and he opens his arms.

Steve almost falls into them.

“Welcome home, son,” Wayne whispers and if Steve cries a little into his shoulder that’s nobody’s business but his own.

_____

Grocery shopping feels weird. At least it does at Gerald’s now, because he hasn’t been here in so long and it’s sorta like nothing has changed. Hawkins sometimes feels like a time capsule with how everything stays the same.

Just that it isn’t the same. Steve takes a deep breath.

Robin’s not here.

Then again she always wanted to get out. Move to a big city. With more freedom. San Francisco maybe. Work bad customer service jobs with Steve to help her parents support her with college tuition. They had plans, the two of them. Dreams.

And then Vecna killed her. In that gruesome way, he-

Steve’s breath speeds up. No, he thinks. No, no, don’t!

Steve, it’s okay, Eddie’s voice echoes in his head. It’s okay. I’ve got you.

Steve takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. Takes another one. Counts backwards from ten. Recalls the feeling of Eddie’s arms around him. Of letting himself fall and being caught. Surprisingly, he’s okay. He blinks a couple times but it’s all good. He can see the produce aisle in front of him, his vision stays. He looks down at Wayne’s list in his hand and then reaches for a zucchini. Eddie went to pick up Erica from school (apparently he does that everyday? Steve loves him) and Steve needed some air, so Wayne asked him to get everything he’d need for the casserole he wanted to make tonight. So Steve’s here. And he can do this.

And it’s actually, surprisingly, not as hard as he thought. He’s out of the store and back in Wayne’s truck about 15 minutes later, without running into anyone (if he doesn’t count Carla from the cheese counter), which he was terrified of (and for good reason, this is Hawkins after all). He puts one of the old man’s Billie Holiday tapes in and softly hums along to it on his drive back to the house.

When he unlocks the door (because Wayne immediately gave him a key) (which made Steve tear up again but he held it together) (he really cries just about anything now that he’s started doing it again), he hears Eddie’s voice, and the wave of affection and love washing over him makes him stop for a second to just take it in.

He smiles to himself when he finally enters, and brings the groceries into the kitchen to put them away, setting everything Wayne needs for dinner aside.

Then he walks over to the living room and when he gently pushes the door open, the sight welcoming him makes his heart glow.

Erica’s on the couch, crosslegged and leaned forward in concentration. Eddie’s on the floor in front of her, head tipped back slightly, eyes closed, completely relaxed and trusting, with Erica’s hands in his hair, braiding it in calculated, practiced motions. The TV’s on, but neither of them’s paying attention, deeply lost in their conversation. “And then Maria told her that she wouldn’t even wanna come, you know, and-”

“What, no, she didn’t?” Eddie gasps disbelievingly and it’s so obvious that it’s genuine. Steve can’t help but smile, his face twisting in a mix of confusion, surprise and affection. So much affection. Fondness.

This is obviously a regular occurrence. A routine thing. Steve loves them so much.

“Yes, she did. Which is crazy, because there’s no reason to just, like, friendship-break-up with her, Tina didn’t even do anything wrong, just the facts.”

“I know,” Eddie nods, at which Erica tuts and Eddie raises one hand in apology for moving.

“It’s just all a bunch of bullshit, lemme tell you that,” Erica replies. “We’re in high school, not kindergarten.”

“Still confused about that, honestly.”

Erica sighs fondly. “When will you ever stop with the Erica’s-so-young-jokes?”

“As soon as you’re older than me, kid.”

Erica huffs out an annoyed breath, presumably at the ‘kid’, but she apparently can’t help the chuckle that follows. She shakes her head and Steve bites his lip to stop his smile from growing even fonder than he’s sure it already is.

Eddie’s eyes open then, as if he’d sensed Steve’s presence and maybe he did, because he tries to look in his direction as much as he can without turning his head. “Steve, is that you?” he asks and Erica turns around. She smiles when her gaze lands on Steve. “Hey,” she says and smiles, before turning around again and telling Eddie, “Would have been a little awkward if it turned out to be Wayne.”

Eddie just snorts and then waves Steve over. “Come here,” he says to Steve, voice so soft immediately and Steve just gives into the pull and walks over to them. He sinks on the ground next to Eddie and when Eddie gently places a hand on his knee he immediately feels grounded.

“Where have you been?” Eddie asks softly, not accusatory at all, not even a tiny bit unsure.

“Got groceries,” Steve replies. “Wayne’s making a casserole and asked me to get some things.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I missed his casserole. Sure you don’t want to stay for dinner, Sinclair?”

“Wish I could,” Erica says and really sounds like she means it. “But I promised mom I’d be home for dinner tonight, plus, I have a date later and I know that Wayne always says he’ll be fast but ends up taking ages cooking, so…”

“Oh,” Steve hums and tries a soft smile. “Bobby, right?”

Erica’s lips pull into an O of surprise and she nods, throwing him a glance, before finishing one of the braids and fixing it with a hair tie from her wrist. “Yeah,” she says. “Bobby.”

“Still a stupid name,” Eddie grumbles and Erica swats him in the shoulder. “Shut up, Edward.”

“Hey, my name’s totally sophisticated,” he says. “Unlike Bobby. If I ever were to sign up for a loan or some shit like that it would not fail because of my name.” He purses his lips for a second. “Well. At least not my first name.”

Erica rolls her eyes and ties the second braid. “There you go, all done. Eddie. You grown, sophisticated man.”

“Thank you very much.” Eddie turns around and smiles at her, then fully faces Steve. “Hi,” he says. Steve can just look at him. “Hi,” he replies.

“Well, okay,” Erica says. “I’ll get out of your now perfectly braided hair. You guys need some time alone, I think.”

“No, Erica, it’s-” Eddie tries, but she shakes her head. “If I leave now I can help mom make dinner and make sure I get to my date on time. Bobby will hold it against me if I’m late for the ninth time in a row.”

“Yeah, okay I get that, poor kid’s been waiting for you every time, huh?”

Steve smiles. “You talk so much like Wayne,” he says.

Eddie looks at him, surprised. “Well. He did raise me.” He chuckles softly.

“Anyway,” Erica pronounces loudly, putting the attention back on her. “I’m leaving. See you losers tomorrow.”

“Alright, but Erica-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says from the doorway, “if I’m gonna be stupid at least use protection, I got it the last ten times you told me.”

Eddie grins. “That’s ma girl.”

“Plus, I told you we’re not doing that yet.”

“And thank fucking god for that,” Eddie mumbles.

She turns around to face them again and narrows her eyes. “But even if we were it wouldn’t be any of your business, you do realize that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Eddie sighs. Then he frowns. “You’re not, though, right?”

“Eddie!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop…Are you?”

“I’m gonna go now.” She walks into the hallway, out of sight, probably stepping into her sneakers.

“Is that a no? Erica Sinclair, I need you to-”

“Bye,” she calls and then Steve can hear the door opening and falling shut behind her.

Steve snickers. Eddie shoots him a look. “What are you giggling at?” He doesn’t look annoyed, though. Actually it might be slightly endeared.

“Nothing, just…” Steve trails off and smiles. “You.”

Eddie smiles back. It reaches his eyes, crinkles the corners of them and god, fuck, Steve is so in love with him.

“Come on,” Eddie says and pushes himself off the floor. “Let’s go get everything ready for that casserole. It really does take Wayne ages to cook.”

_____

Dinner is amazing. It tastes really good and it feels like home and for a second Steve is really happy. Which makes him feel incredibly guilty right after, the grief crashing in on him like a tidal wave and he spends the rest of the evening in Eddie’s arms. He doesn’t really feel worthy of it, but-

But he knows Eddie loves him. Eddie told him. Steve can feel it in everything he does. And he also knows that no matter if he deserves Eddie or not, Eddie definitely deserves not getting hurt again. And if that means Steve being with him, because he wants and chooses Steve, however hard that is for Steve to understand, who is Steve to deny him that?

So when Wayne goes to bed and wishes them a good night, when they can hear his footsteps ascending the stairs, Steve turns in Eddie’s arm to really look at him.

“Eddie?” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Eddie replies softly, giving Steve all of his attention, all of his focus.

“I know I’m like…not fine-or well…very fucked up actually,” Steve can’t help but let out a short self-deprecating chuckle, “and maybe not in the right headspace for this and maybe that’s why you’ve avoided-…I-can we…talk about…us? For a second?”

“Us?” Eddie echoes.

“Yeah. I mean…you told me you loved me and I did say it back, right? And I meant it, I-” he sucks in a sharp breath. “I really meant it. I love you. And for the last five years I didn’t even dare to dream about a reality where it was anything other than…well, a fantasy. But…I’m here now. Right? And you are too, and I’m not- I’m not leaving, I swear I’m never leaving again, never leaving…you, I-” He starts to talk himself into something, gets really emotional, can feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

Eddie moves them, untangles his arms from Steve’s body, still manages to hold him close. He cups Steve’s face in both of his hands and looks into his eyes. “I know you won’t,” he reassures, quietly and intimately. Steve loves him. Everything in him aches for Eddie, in a way he can’t explain.

“So?”

Eddie frowns slightly. “So?” He smiles and runs his left thumb over Steve’s cheek. “So whenever you’re ready…I’m here waiting.”

Steve looks down for a second, then back up in Eddie’s eyes. “What if I’m ready now?”

“Steve. I’m here.” His voice is so soft. Steve could live off of nothing but the comfort of Eddie’s voice from now on.

“So can I-” Steve’s eyes fall shut, naturally, and he feels himself shifting a little closer to Eddie. “Can you kiss me?” he asks and recognizes his own voice in a strange way he hasn’t in years. It’s vulnerable and broken, but it’s real.

Eddie doesn’t reply, but his right hand moves to get a light grip on Steve’s jaw and the back of his neck and Steve is convinced he can feel the way Eddie’s lips pull into a smile from the warmth radiating from him.

And then Eddie kisses him.

And it’s soft. But deep, and at the same time also still oh so innocent. And Steve is melting under Eddie’s touch.

He isn’t cold anymore. He feels warm.

And safe.

And loved.

And Eddie deepens the kiss and the hand in his neck feels like it belongs there and when they break the kiss, Eddie rests their foreheads together, breathes Steve’s air, stays with him. Inhales a little shakily and then Steve just-

Eddie has been waiting for this. For so long. Steve presses a kiss to his forehead, lingers there with his lips, before pulling back a little to find Eddie’s eyes. They’re shining, glassy with tears, but he’s smiling and these tears didn’t come from hurt.

Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand, tangles their fingers together and breathes, “I love you.”

Steve smiles. Nods slightly. Squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I love you too,” he says.

_____

He’s not sure what wakes him up in the middle of the night, but when he does, Eddie isn’t there anymore. Steve panics for a second, but the bed’s still warm and after a second of blinking himself really awake, he can vaguely make out Eddie’s warm voice from the hallway, gently carried over to him through the slightly ajar door.

It sounds like he’s on the phone, if the sound of the cord hitting the wall softly is anything to go by. “Yeah, but that was actually not why I was calling,” Steve makes out and frowns. He quietly shuffles out of bed and tiptoes over to the door.

“I, uh,” he hears Eddie say now. “I have some good news.” There’s a small pause. Then, “I think you can have that wedding now.” He chuckles, wetly, and Steve bites his lip, trying not to make a sound.

Because he- is he talking to-

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, laughing a little more. “Yeah, I got him back. So you better finally set a fucking date.” He snorts. “Right, as if I hadn’t heard you curse like a- no, yeah, you’re totally right.” Now there’s a sarcastic, playful edge to his voice. “I apologize for my language, chief.”

Steve’s breath hitches. He can hear Eddie smiling now with the next sentences he speaks. “I’ll see you soon. And I’ll bring him with me, I promise. You’ll see him soon.” A pause. “No need for that, Jim, seriously. I mean it was also really selfish, I…yeah. I did. Okay. Yeah…tell her I said hi, okay? Bye…yeah, bye.”

The click when he hangs up makes Steve flinch a little. He rushes back to bed, dips under the covers, pulls them up to his head.

Eddie doesn’t immediately come back, but steps into the bathroom first that’s has doors to the hallway and his room. Steve can hear some water running, some rummaging around a little and then the door opens and just a moment later the mattress dips and there are hands reaching for Steve. Steve smiles, lets Eddie and pretends he’s waking up, stirring a little.

“I know you’re awake, baby,” Eddie says, voice low and slightly amused and Steve just opens his eyes and smiles at him.

“How?”

Eddie shrugs playfully. “I have a Steve tingle.”

Steve pushes his face into Eddie’s chest and can feel it vibrating when Eddie laughs. “I also have good news,” he whispers and Steve shifts to look up at him again. “Yeah?”

Eddie nods and kisses him and Steve’s melts under Eddie’s hands, like he does every time. “We get to go to a wedding soon.”

“Who- whose?” Steve asks.

“I know exactly you eavesdropped, you little shit,” Eddie says, a wide, happy grin on his lips. Then he gets a little more serious though, pulls Steve closer with his hands of his waist and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Your father’s,” he then whispers into Steve’s ear.

And Steve huffs out a dry sob and pushes close to Eddie who just wraps his arms tighter around him.

Eddie just has this way of…untangling everything in Steve. With just two words he makes him unravel.

Eddie just managed to say out loud the very thing Steve has been afraid to call the truth for years. So many years. Just two words. He was so afraid to call it what it was and just like that, Eddie took the scary thing and made it not scary at all.

Steve misses Robin. Of course he does. She was his soulmate, his other half, his favorite person, and the idea of life without her-

It had destroyed him. It was the most terrible thing in the world. The scariest.

But he’s starting to realize, really realize, that in Eddie’s arms he can get through everything.

Maybe even this.

Finally, dingus, he hears Robin’s voice echoing in his mind. I finally know you’ll be okay. I can let you go now.

Steve smiles.