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Steve has finally talked himself into doing what he'd been wrestling with for nearly three weeks. He decides it for certain while driving Robin back to her house. But he waits until they're stopped outside and she's clicking her seatbelt off to tell her, because he's not sure he can have this conversation while he's driving.
"Eddie will want to make it a four movie night." She's not looking at him while she talks, not paying attention while she zips her jacket back up. "I know that much. Which brings up the hilarious possibility of you needing to remind him that he also has school tomorrow. Though you better not watch any of my choices without me, because I know that school is important but so is guiding you through groundbreaking cinema, Steve, I can't just–"
"I'm going to tell him," he says.
Robin stops talking, hand still half raised to open the door and get out. She blinks at him for a moment and then drops it back into her lap. She doesn't have to ask what he's talking about, because of course she knows.
"Tonight?" She seems surprised. He really hopes it's not at the fact that he was doing it at all.
"Yeah." He'd decided on tonight but confirming it to her makes it real somehow, locks it in and stops him from backing out. He wants to explain, because he remembers how she'd almost felt...disappointed in him when he confessed. "I know that you think it was wrong for me to pretend in the first place–"
"No." Robin drags her bag up into her lap and sighs out a breath. "No, Steve, I get it, I've been thinking about it since you told me and I actually pictured myself in your shoes and...I get it. You weren't ready and expecting you to put it all out there literally minutes after you'd even thought it was an option for you." She squeezes the fabric she's holding and tips her head back onto the rest, rolling her eyes in his direction. "I think I would have done the same thing, and I don't think I would have ever admitted to it. How am I supposed to justify being all judgy and making you feel bad for not saying anything when a hypothetical me is out there doing the same thing?"
"Well don't beat up hypothetical you–"
"I'm beating her up as we speak," Robin says and Steve can feel himself smiling. How does she always know what to say? He worries so much about disappointing her but she's always there, always right there.
"You were still right though." He has to say that, because she deserves to hear it. "I wasn't thinking about after, and I feel as if I got away with something, y'know?"
"Yeah, I know what you mean." The agreement's quiet, and he knows it's because she'd put herself in Eddie's shoes as well. Steve had done the same thing and it hadn't made him happy. "But both can be true, you know."
"I have thought about it, about how to say something. I've been doing nothing but thinking about it, and all the ways in might go wrong. What if it ruins our friendship? What if it was just a spur of the moment thing? What if he doesn't want..." He waves in a way that he hopes indicates literally all of him, and his issues, and his inability to be anything but all in.
"The Harrington special?" she suggests.
Steve pulls a face. "Don't call it that."
"Because it makes it sound like some sort of kinky sex move?" she wonders. "Because, oh my God, it absolutely does! Even more so now I've said it out loud."
"Exactly why you shouldn't call it that, especially not in public please," he decides. She's laughing again, she's laughing when he's trying to have a moment here. He's not even annoyed about it, because he knows her and she loves him. "I love that you're finding this so funny, sitting right next to me laughing at my pain."
"I'm stopping you from overthinking the pain." She reaches over and smacks him on the shoulder, three quick pats that sound too loud in the car. "You will overthink and then make this way more complicated than it needs to be."
"Because confessing you like someone is famously a breeze?"
Robin's giving him the serious eyebrows again and he knows she's either going to say something supportive or make another joke at his expense.
"You used to think it was a breeze. We had a board, remember, you would shoot your shot twice before lunch."
"That's an exaggeration."
She pinches finger and thumb together to indicate something very small.
"Shut up, anyway this is different, this is Eddie, we've been through some shit together, he's our friend and we literally just got him." Steve knows that's a weird way to phrase it but it's true, he feels too important to lose. "I don't want to lose that. I don't want to ruin it."
"If he says no then he'll still be our friend." Robin sounds so confident about it, like she knows for certain. "You know how to be friends with people you are or were attracted to Steve."
He knows that's supposed to be supportive but he can't help taking it as 'the history of Steve's failed relationships and crushes.' Which is not helping right now.
He sighs. "You think I should hang out with Jonathan more, see if I can collect the whole set?"
Robin smacks him on the arm, but she's laughing again.
"I mean it, you're a good guy, you give relationships room to grow. You don't push people, granted, that also sometimes means you let a lot of things go when you shouldn't, but that might be a me thing. I tend to hold grudges."
"You do hold grudges," he agrees. "I think sometimes you hold grudges for me too."
She stares back at him without even trying to dispute that, wrapping her arms around her bag.
"So I think you should go back to Eddie, watch a movie, stick your toes in the water and see if it's warm–"
"Officially the weirdest way to pep talk me," he tells her.
"I know." Robin's whole face scrunches in what's clearly apology. "I could hear it as I said it but I couldn't stop myself."
"Ugh, fine." Steve didn't think there was any real chance of her not encouraging him. But knowing that she understands and supports him, it helps him feel a little more settled, more confident in his decision. He feels less like he's about to do something incredibly stupid. "Go get an early night, like a nerd," he tells her.
Robin smacks him again but this time she also opens the door and pushes it wide.
"And if it goes poorly you know where my bedroom window is."
"You have school tomorrow." They both know he'll come anyway.
"So does Eddie, you're still intending to keep him up late."
"He mostly keeps himself up late," Steve reminds her, because she's been there. "We're all just along for the ride."
Robin turns to look at him, teeth in her lip, and he knows she's trying really hard not to say something.
"Get out of my car." Steve points the way she's going.
She does, cackling, bag swinging up hard enough to hit her in the ass.
"Goodnight, dingus."
She's too far away to hear his reply.
It's not a long drive back to his house, not enough time for him to work through anything Robin said, but he'd got here on his own and he figures he can manage the final stretch by himself. The lights are still on low and his house smells like popcorn, and ever so slightly of cigarettes. Steve suspects that Eddie took the lack of Robin as an opportunity to stand by the outer door and smoke rather than throwing his jacket on and going out into the cold.
When he gets into the living room he finds Eddie sprawled out on the pile of cushions they'd all been occupying twenty five minutes ago. There's a bowl on his chest and he's holding a VHS case over his head, reading the back.
"I made more popcorn." He slaps the side of the bowl, making kernels rustle into view over the edge. "It was to celebrate your triumphant return, unfortunately it proved too tempting for mortal men so I've already eaten, like, a third of it."
Steve can't help smiling as he tosses his keys down, kicks off his sneakers and flops down in the cushions next to him. As much as he's been struggling with the wildly unexpected crush on Eddie for the last few weeks he can't imagine not wanting to be friends with him, and if he only gets to have this, nothing more than this, then he thinks he could be happy. He retrieves the popcorn and sets it on his own chest, choosing to ignore the fact that Eddie's still digging a hand in it.
"So what's next on the agenda? I personally vote for The Thing." He holds the case up so Steve can see the parka blasting light into the arctic wilderness. "A personal favorite of mine for the intensity and the creeping menace and the pointed lack of flying monsters or moldy vines." Eddie nods his head at Steve and shoves more popcorn in his mouth. "Not a lot of snow memories from the Upside-Down," he says between bites.
"I don't like the dog parts," Steve admits.
"No one likes the dog parts, that's why we're rooting for the scrappy humans." Eddie makes a fist and shakes it over his head, then immediately lets it fall into the popcorn bowl. Steve thinks he should fight for more of it, but he's enjoying the way their hands keep knocking together. Eddie's knuckles are warm and his fingertips keep skating over the back of his own.
He could say what he needs to say after they've watched a movie, but it'll be really late then, closer to when Eddie goes home, giving him an excuse to just leave after everything's out. But the idea of sitting around and watching a movie with him after Steve's said what he wants to say sucks too. He knows he should do it before. He should get it all out, and if Eddie wants to go home early then at least it will save them a horrible and awkward hour and a half sitting in his living room and not speaking.
Steve knows he's making this a lot more stressful than it probably needs to be, but in his defense this is kind of a huge thing.
So...
He's going to do it.
"Can we leave the movie for a second. There's something I want to...I want to talk to you about something?"
Eddie rolls his head on the cushion he's resting on, eyebrows up like he can hear the seriousness in Steve's voice.
"Yeah, of course." He lifts the remote that he's still holding in the other hand. "You want me to turn off the TV?"
Steve thinks about it for a second, but the muted static-y glow and hum makes him feel less like all attention is going to be on him.
"No, you can leave it on, might help as background noise."
Steve sets down the bowl, the quiet rustle of popcorn moving every time they reach inside cutting out. Eddie puts down the remote too, pulls himself up higher in the cushions, as if he thinks this is the sort of thing that's going to need his full attention. As much as Steve doesn't really want to eat anything he feels compelled to reach over and pick up a last handful of popcorn, if only to stop this suddenly feeling so serious.
"So, ah, I don't really know how to–" He can't help the short, annoyed noise at his failure to start this how he'd wanted. Maybe he was less prepared than he thought? "All that build up and I don't actually know where to start."
Eddie's still watching him and now there's less quiet curiosity to his face and more tension.
"Steve, if I did something wrong, you can tell me–"
Steve hates the way Eddie's voice sounds so careful. But, worse than that, he hates the way he immediately jumps to assuming it's his fault, almost as if he expects it.
"No, no that's not– that's not what this is about. It's more something that I need to say. It's more of a confession, something I've been sitting on." It had felt complicated when Steve was piecing it together but he realizes that maybe it can be easy if he wants it to be. He just has to start at the beginning "Something happened to me and it's taken me a few weeks to, like, absorb it."
"Something happened to you?" Eddie says it as if he doesn't like the taste of the words. Steve can read the question he's not asking well enough though, and the fact that Eddie's more than willing to be in Steve's corner if what happened to him wasn't a good thing. The fact that coming to Steve's defense is so easy for him, that he doesn't take a moment to even think about it, it's a perfect picture of how far they've come. It helps, Steve thinks, it helps and maybe Eddie will forgive him for not saying something sooner. For hiding behind the anonymity of a dark room.
"Nothing bad," he promises, hoping that's true, and watches Eddie relax at the reassurance.
"Yeah, so tell me." A socked foot presses to Steve's knee, a nudge to let it out, whatever it is.
There's nothing for it but to go straight in.
"You remember the fair we went to?"
He watches the curious interest in Eddie's face tighten into something far more uncertain. Which has the last piece of doubt, the last possibility that perhaps he'd been wrong, that he'd seen things that weren't there, draining out of him. It had been Eddie, three weeks ago in that funhouse, hands on his face, mouth opening under his like he'd just been waiting for Steve to ask.
"Yeah, I remember." The admission is quiet and a little tight, which is fair if Eddie's not sure where this is going.
Steve's in this now though, there's no backing out, and if he's being honest with himself he's sick of this being a secret. He's worried it's going to start affecting their friendship if he doesn't say something, and he promised himself that he'd be brave.
"Something happened there," he starts. "I was supposed to meet a girl there, Hayley."
"Yeah, I remember Hayley too," Eddie says. There are none of his usual jokes or asides about Steve's ability to attract girls. No more poking him to continue. Maybe Eddie realizes that too, realizes that it's telling in some way, because he clears his throat and shrugs with half his usual drama. "You decided not to go for it, weren't into her or something."
"There was a reason for that." Steve laughs, stares at the fuzzy static on the TV. "I was looking for her a while after we got there, and Robin said she'd seen her in the funhouse."
"Didn't get to see it," Eddie says, shaking his head. "I think I was getting ice cream." He furrows his brows as if he's trying to remember.
Steve's next words stall out at the obvious lie, confidence cracking a bit. Because it had never occurred to him that Eddie might want to pretend the whole thing never happened. What if Steve bringing it up is the last thing he wants?
"Er..."
Eddie watches him hesitate over what to say next. All the words he'd prepared grinding to a halt at the possibility that he might be dragging something up that Eddie would rather stay buried. He's not sure he could feel worse, doesn't know where to go from here. But then the tightness in Eddie's face softens into something more like Steve's used to. He makes a show of turning on the cushions and tucking his legs up under himself, leaning towards him to show that he's listening.
Steve watches him pat the floor between them, an encouraging little drumbeat, the shine of metal in the deep pile of the carpet.
"Steve, come on, you can tell me anything, you know that."
He hopes that's true, he really does. He makes himself continue.
"They had a dark room inside, and I mean almost totally dark. There were glowsticks on the walls, but they were weak as shit so you couldn't really see anything except the way to the exits. And I expected to find Hayley in there. I thought I did, because when I got close to the end there was someone waiting– I thought for me. They were the right height and they had the right hair and so I figured 'hey, that must be her.' They felt familiar to me, y'know. They felt like I knew them."
Eddie stares at him for a beat. "Yeah, that's Hawkins though, right? Everyone feels kind of familiar?" The comment feels clipped, as if he's fighting not to say anything else, or to dismiss the possibility that it might have been someone Steve knew well. He's also keeping a careful distance between them now. Steve doesn't know if it's because he thinks Steve still doesn't know, or because he regrets it.
"So, I know them and they seem to know me and, yeah, it's almost completely black, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's Hayley, so I kiss her." Steve had kissed him first. He was the one who'd leaned in and touched his hair and kissed him.
Eddie's hands are folded in his lap, completely still, fingers not even fidgeting. There's an unnatural sort of stiffness to him, as if he's waiting for the punchline and he knows it's going to hurt.
"But I realize pretty quickly that it's not Hayley, that it's not even a girl–"
Eddie's inhale is shaky. "Steve, kissing a guy by accident doesn't make you gay–" The words come out fast, but it's the wrong moment, it's the wrong confession that Eddie's got stuck on and Steve has to get this out.
"Let me finish." He drags a hand through his hair. "There's some stuff I need to get out."
Eddie presses his mouth shut and nods. "Sorry, yeah, no talking over you, sorry." He squeezes his hands in his lap, all his usual fidgety movements and gestures restrained, and Steve feels bad about that because it says a lot about where Eddie's at right now. But he needs to explain everything.
"So, I realize it's a guy, some guy I don't know, but I don't...I don't hate the kiss, it's a good kiss, it's a great kiss." Steve wishes he'd known at the time that it was a first kiss. The kind he might have put more meaning into, that he might have taken his time with, if he'd caught up sooner. "I expected that I would pull away the moment I realized but I didn't do that. I like kissing, and I liked being kissed by this guy, I liked the way it made me feel–"
Eddie makes a sound next to him, and Steve stops to look at him. He thinks if he lets the moment hang Eddie will say something and he doesn't know whether that's good or not, doesn't know whether he wants to hear it before he admits to everything.
"But then I got scared, because I realized I was kissing some strange guy. Someone who knew who I was, because I actually spoke in there, in the dark. I can't even remember what I said but I'd made it so obvious who I was. So, the only thing I could think of was to say Hayley's name, to pretend that I'd mistaken him for a girl the whole time. And I know it was stupid and I felt like an asshole. But he left, he left really quickly and I'm standing there in the dark and realizing that I don't hate the idea, that the kissing felt the same for me. The kissing was good and I enjoyed it and I didn't know what to do about it for a while, because it was...a lot of thoughts to get through. Robin has been helping me with that."
Steve shoves a hand in his hair and stops talking just to breathe. This isn't the same as the way he'd explained it to Robin, because he wants Eddie to know what he was feeling, it's not about Steve here– it's not just about Steve.
"So, yeah, I'm finally at the part where I can admit that I want to kiss a boy as well, and it was because of that guy I kissed in the dark. Even though I was a dick to him, and I probably made him feel fucking awful. Maybe he thought he'd found a guy who was the same as him and it turned out to be a stupid case of mistaken identity, only it wasn't, not really."
Steve turns his head and looks at Eddie, who's braced against the couch now, arms flung over his knees, a strand of hair at the corner of his mouth that says he'd probably been chewing it while Steve was trying to find the right words. But for the first time in a long time, Steve's getting nothing from his face. It's a careful sort of blankness, as if he's afraid to feel anything. Which is more worrying than something, more worrying than anger, because he doesn't know– he doesn't know what Eddie's thinking right now.
"And I've thought a lot about apologizing, about telling him I was sorry, that I wasn't ready, that I was an asshole whose dating pool rapidly expanded in under two minutes, and then I didn't have a chance and he was gone."
"You're not an asshole, Steve," Eddie says, as if he'd suddenly realized he should say something supportive. And it's so obvious the way he pulls himself out of his own head to be there for Steve. He's folded over in a sit, cushions still piled behind him. He could have leant back, could have sat on the couch, could have moved out of touching distance, but he didn't. He's still within reach if Steve needs him. "But...you know it's ok right? Of course it's ok, it doesn't change anything. Or– I mean, it's like a new part of you, so it's a good change? But I get that it's also huge that you're trusting me with it, that you told me." Eddie winces after he says it, one hand making a quick pull down his face. "Sorry." There's a quiet laugh that sounds a lot more like the old Eddie. "I've never had anyone come out to me before. But, I guess, same for me as well." He grimaces immediately and looks as if he wants to take the words back. "Wow, yeah, yours was way better."
That has more the feel of a quiet show of solidarity than a confession, and the last thing Steve wanted to do was push. Which makes the next thing he's going to say harder to get out than he wanted it to be.
"So I wanted to say that maybe he did find a guy who liked him, he just needed a moment to work it out for himself."
Steve drags a knee up and turns until he's facing Eddie, who looks like he's trying really hard to be supportive of Steve but has never quite got the hang of hiding what he's feeling.
"And so I was wondering if you wanted a do-over?"
It's so quiet that the static from the TV might as well be a roar.
He's still looking at Eddie, never looked away from him, so he watches the moment realization hits, and slowly turns into hurt, a solid wave of it that pulls at his face in a way that Steve wants to smooth away and apologize for, tell him that he's sorry, he's so sorry he let this linger for weeks. But then the hurt turns into anger, which is a lot sharper.
"You knew," Eddie says tightly, and yeah, there's definitely some anger there.
Steve is so afraid that Eddie is going to get up and go that he's reaching over, getting a handful of rings and curled fingers, feeling how warm he is. Eddie flinches at the touch but he doesn't pull away, doesn't shake him off, which is something.
"Not to start with," Steve says quickly. "Not while we were in the dark. I didn't know, I swear I didn't. But when we came out and I watched you and I saw your belt and the way your hair fell and I heard your rings click together while we were at that bench."
Steve feels the way Eddie's hand closes tight, feels the hard metal shape under his palm but still squeezes gently.
"And I didn't know for certain but I thought maybe it was you– and then I started hoping that it was you. Which made me realize that it wasn't just a new experience I had in the dark, it was something that maybe I'd been looking at for a while but not really thinking it was something I could want, or I could have."
"You didn't say anything." Eddie sounds so hurt that Steve can't bear it. "It's been eating at me for weeks that I fucking...took advantage of you or something," he grates out. "Because you didn't know it was me."
"No," Steve says immediately. Because he hates the idea that Eddie might have been punishing himself for this. It wasn't that at all. It was never that. "I kissed you first, and you thought we both knew and that was the part that I kept coming back to, over and over, that you knew it was me and you still let me kiss you."
Eddie swears again and rubs at his face with his hands, fingertips disappearing briefly under his bangs.
"I kind of got used to being notorious," he says with a short laugh. "The idea of someone not knowing who I was, even in the dark, seemed pretty ridiculous."
Steve watches the shadows from the TV flicker over his face, everything angry scraped away until Eddie just looks lost.
"I wanted to say something, man, but you've never actually–" Steve gestures helplessly around the room. "You never actually told me you were interested in guys, come out, or whatever. So for a while it felt like if I admitted to knowing it was you, that it was the same as admitting that I knew something about you that you didn't want to share. Then after that I didn't know how to say it, and then it had been weeks and I felt like an asshole–"
"I am interested," Eddie says flatly. "In men." Judging by the way he jumps at the volume of his own voice it might not be something he has a habit of sharing much. "That feels a bit belated now, but, fuck it, it's out there." He lifts his hands and pulls them down his face again, the skin pale and tight for a moment he does it so hard. "I actually wondered at the time how you even knew, or if you didn't and you were just being stupidly recklessly brave about it. Which..." He gives a harsh laugh. "I realized how stupid that was as soon as it was over."
Steve can feel the way his face pinches, feeling guilty all over again that he could make Eddie feel like this.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Eddie tells him. "Ugh, it's worse that you feel the need to apologize. You made a mistake and left yourself in a really awkward situation that could have gone so badly for you. I understand how there wasn't really any good way to get out of it without upsetting someone. You didn't even know it was me. You thought I was just some random guy." He throws up his hands. "Hell, I probably would have freaked out too. So how can I be mad?"
Steve thinks, after everything, Eddie's earned the right to be mad about anything he wants. He's been through enough already.
"But after I knew it was you. I'm apologizing for the after," Steve says, that's the part he wants Eddie to know he's serious about. "I don't want it to be a secret." He doesn't want that to be their only kiss and maybe that's the thing that really pushed him into saying something today.
Eddie's hands grip his knees, and he seems to realize all at once where this had started.
"You want...what do you want, Steve?" He's frowning like he really doesn't know.
"I want–" Steve shakes his head and starts again. "I don't want to ruin our friendship, because you are so important to me. But I like you and I've been realizing exactly how much over the last few weeks. So I'd really like a do-over if you'll let me have one. I'd really like to kiss you again, only this time not in the dark, and with everyone knowing who the other person is." Steve hopes the gentle tease of it lands. He thinks most of that comes out too fast, and he knows that's telling in some way. It does nothing to hide how much he's been thinking about it, how much he's probably bored Robin to death, though she's been really good about his minor crisis, that admittedly has been mostly Eddie-focused if guilty enough to still be confusing.
Eddie's exhale is so hard his bangs flutter upwards and come down askew.
"This isn't just to fix it, right?" he asks. "Because you feel guilty?" That kind of hurts, but Steve supposes he can't blame him for making sure. The face he's wearing is trying hard for casual, but Steve can feel how Eddie's bracing himself for the answer, explanation already queued up to tell him that he doesn't need to do that. He'd thought all his rambling had been clear enough but maybe it hadn't.
Steve makes a point of moving the popcorn bowl out of the way, the kernels rustling and shuffling when it hits the coffee table. He turns into Eddie, where he's sitting on Steve's living room floor among the sofa cushions, looking nervous and out of place for the first time in far too long.
"Ok, no, I clearly need to do this properly." Steve pulls himself fully upright. "Eddie, I really like you, do you want to go out with me sometime?" Because maybe sometimes the easiest answer is the most obvious one.
Eddie's wary expression breaks for a laugh. Steve would be more offended if Eddie didn't look shocked by the sound, as if he hadn't meant for that at all.
"Steve." The way he says his name sounds like an accusation, but there's something gentle to it.
"Yeah?"
"Don't, yeah, me." Eddie's tugging at a long strand of hair, as if he's frustrated by the fact that Steve's not getting it. "You're seriously asking me out right now?"
"I'm trying to," Steve says. He thinks he'd be more worried if the smile on Eddie's face didn't feel so soft, and a little crooked like he doesn't believe him.
"I thought you only wanted…" Eddie starts to make a gesture and then seems to think better of it, drops his hands back into his lap. They start fidgeting almost without thought, rolling the rings he's wearing in slow circles. "Um, I've never dated anyone before," he admits.
Steve feels his stomach sink. It hadn't occurred to him that even if Eddie did find him attractive they might want completely different things from each other. Steve doesn't think…he doesn't think he could do anything halfway.
"Ah, is it not something that you want?"
Eddie blinks. "No," he says. "I mean, yes, that's something I want, I didn't know that you did."
"Yeah, so, I know we can't make a big deal of it, or go anywhere too public, but I want to do all the relationship stuff with you." It's the first time he'd said it out loud and he likes the sound of it. He's biting back on the word 'boyfriend' because he doesn't know if that will scare Eddie away, if it's asking for too much too fast. How do guys even do this?
"Fuck."
Steve frowns, because he'll admit he's still lost about what Eddie actually wants.
"Good fuck? Bad fuck?" The laugh that comes out after the question is nervous. He can feel the expression he's wearing, the one he wears far too often. 'Steve is confused, Steve doesn't know what's going on. A little help here.' Story of his life.
He never gets an answer to the question because Eddie pushes the cushions aside and slides his way into Steve's personal space, warm hands on his face, mouth pressed to his. It's their second kiss, technically, but it feels like the first. The memory of hair under his fingers in the dark is replaced by the very real way he cups the back of Eddie's head and feels the spread of it over his knuckles. The hungry push that opens him out is less tentative and more aggressive than the last time. In the light this time, they break occasionally to look at each other, and Steve knows he must look dazed. Eddie keeps saying his name, the sound of it soft and a little accusing against his mouth.
"Of course I wanted you to have meant it," Eddie says, the words low in his throat like an ache.
He kisses the corner of Steve's mouth, thumbs rubbing on cheek and jaw, before they press to his lower lip in a way that feels indulgent. Eddie seems surprised at being allowed to, which is funny because Steve would let him do so much more than that.
"God, I love your mouth, I nearly lost my damn mind when you kissed me."
He laughs at Steve's sound of agreement.
"For a minute and a half I thought you'd somehow read through every look I ever gave you. Scared the shit out of me. But you were kissing me so I figured it couldn't be that bad."
"Eddie."
Eddie shushes him, fingers sliding their way up into his hair.
"I thought the very best I would ever get was maybe you wanting to experiment a bit, to try a guy on for size, get your rocks off until you got it out of your system. No one wants to date me, Steve." He snorts a laugh, like that's so obvious he doesn't even have to say it.
"Eddie, that's not true," Steve complains, and he's a little annoyed at how certain he sounds when he'd literally said exactly the opposite a moment ago.
"Yeah, from you I might even believe it." Eddie gently squeezes Steve's face between his hands, pushing his lips out far enough to kiss with a laugh. "You don't do things halfway do you." His hands gentle until he's just holding him again, fingertips moving in his hair. "You are stupidly hot and brave and funny and you are also such a catty little–"
"Hey!"
"And I am gone for you, if that wasn't blindingly obvious by now." Eddie rolls his eyes and then leans in, so close their noses almost touch. "So, yes, I want to go out with you sometime, or stay in with you? Or pretty much anything. Consider me your squeeze until you get bored of me."
"What is this, the fifties?" It doesn't come out with half the tease Steve means it to. He feels so light and he knows that he's smiling.
"Shut-up," Eddie says, but he's still grinning like an idiot. He stops holding Steve's face so he can clap his hands together. "I'm going to date you so hard. You'll probably regret it, I am famously unbearable when I'm excited or I have a new hobby– ok, no, that sounded bad. I'm not calling you a hobby, I'm just saying you're new and exciting. But I will provide you with amateur dating to the best of my abilities, and I've said yes already so it would be bad form to take it back now–"
Steve kisses him to make a point, realizes he's done the impossible and shut Eddie Munson up, promises himself that he'll only use his powers for good. Eddie makes an agreeable sound into his mouth, then a hummed half of a word, which muffles into a second, and Steve realizes that he's actually still talking. He ends up breaking the kiss to laugh.
"Seriously, you'll have to tell me if I'm too much." Eddie tugs on a strand of hair that was tucked behind Steve's ear. "Can't believe I get to touch this now. The famous hair."
Steve bats his hands away. "Not if you're going to be weird about it," he complains, not meaning a word of it.
Eddie just laughs and slides his fingers in deeper, scratches gently in the depths of Steve's hair with a little hum of appreciation.
"And I think you missed the memo that I can be kind of clingy too," Steve admits. "I like to..." he's not sure how to end that, "...to be with someone. I like to make them happy. Sometimes maybe I get too much."
"Believe me I am never going to object to that, Stevie." Eddie's so close, chest to chest, one hand Steve's waist the other in his hair. He kisses him, swears against his mouth and gives another breathless laugh. "Imagine that, me having the audacity to kiss Steve Harrington."
"I kissed you first," Steve reminds him. Only for Eddie to send him into the cushions with a push. He makes a surprised, confused sound when he lands. Because he has no idea what's happening.
Eddie reaches for the table and picks up the popcorn, props it back on Steve's chest.
"Wait there."
Eddie knee-walks back to the TV and Steve can hear him pushing a tape in, then hiking his jeans up and shuffling back to him, throwing himself into the cushions next to him. They're close enough that Eddie's hair is tickling his neck, the crunching of popcorn almost against his cheek as the familiar thumping tones of the beginning of The Thing start playing in the background. The breath that Steve feels as if he'd been holding all night drains out of him. Because suddenly something he'd thought he wouldn't get to keep feels easy. It feels like something he could have just reached out and asked for all this time.
"I'm not really known for being very good at waiting, so this is our first date," Eddie tells him, then turns his head and lays a sticky kiss on Steve's cheek, made messier by the fact that he can't seem to stop smiling. The hand Eddie's not using for the popcorn finds Steve's on the floor and threads their fingers together, the bulk of Eddie's rings between them. "We can pretend you took me out, the theater's empty and the snacks are full, and if you're good I'll let you get to third base before the end.
Steve's not entirely sure what third base is with a guy.
But he's excited to find out.