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Eddie’s kind of a douchebag, honestly.
Steve isn’t sure what Dustin and the others see in this dude, but they flock to him like he’s a shepherd in a torn up denim vest. Every time Steve turns around they’re talking about him, or he’s supposed to be taking them to the arcade, or the record store, and no that doesn’t sting, not at all.
Okay so maybe it does, just a little bit.
It’s just that Steve used to be the kids’ go-to for things, and as much as it does annoy him to have to drop whatever he’s doing in order to take a bunch of nerdy pre-teens to the mall or something, he liked being someone they could count on. He knows they have Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan, but sue him, he likes feeling special.
He looks up at the clock and swears to himself, grabbing a jacket and his keys. He’s supposed to pick the kids up from Dungeons and Dorks at the home of Sir Dickface himself soon, and if he has to hear another one of Dustin’s lectures on ‘the essence and importance of punctuality’ Steve will surely throw himself off of a cliff.
–
He pulls into the gravel driveway at five o’clock on the dot, just in time for the front door to bang open and the kids to spill out. Max and El go trotting over to Max’s place, another host home to the kids since Max’s mom got better, and they spare a wave to Steve as they open the door. Which leaves him five other kids to squeeze into the poor Beemer and take home.
Mike, Will, and Lucas pile into the backseat, squishing themselves as far into the other’s personal space as they can to try and make room for Erica on the end. It works, but just barely, the door pressing Erica halfway into her brother’s lap.
Dustin’s still on the porch, chatting happily to Eddie about some sort of monster thing they might have to beat next week, and Steve gets out of the car, leaning on the hood. This tactic usually works, reminding Dustin of his presence to snap him out of it and get him into the car. Not today, though. Today, he opens his backpack and smiles when Eddie drops a cassette tape into it.
“Yeah, I’ll listen to it tonight, thanks dude,” Dustin says, closing the backpack and slinging it over one shoulder. He usually wears it over both shoulders.
When Steve gave him one of his favorite tapes, he saw it on Dustin’s bedroom floor collecting dust the next week.
Steve stands up, hands naturally moving to his hips. General disdain for Eddie or not, there’s Golden Girls reruns and cozy pajamas calling Steve’s name right now, and Dustin’s holding up the whole operation.
“Hey, Henderson! Chop-chop, yeah?”
Dustin turns to face Steve like he didn’t even know he was there, and there’s a hint of an eye roll Steve certainly doesn’t appreciate. There’s an extremely blatant eye roll from Eddie that Steve chooses to ignore.
“Better hurry, dude, your second mother’s gonna have an aneurysm any second now,” Eddie says, smirking and ruffling Dustin’s hair the way Steve hasn’t been allowed to lately. Something about hair gel and a curl routine.
“You can give that big mouth a break anytime now, Munson,” Steve throws back, and Eddie smirks.
“That’s not what your mom said last night.”
Dustin snickers, and Steve sighs, turning to get back into the car.
That’s when he feels it.
“Ow!” He shouts, feeling a piercing, needle-sharp pain right in the center of his left asscheek.
He turns around, looking down to see an arrow sticking out of his ass, and his face goes white. When he looks back, everyone’s staring at him like he’s lost his mind, which is objectively insane. There’s an arrow in his ass, how is he the crazy one here?
“Hey, brochacho! Over here!”
Steve’s head whips to the side, and he has to be hallucinating. There’s no other explanation for a tiny little man hovering over his left shoulder. Flying is a more accurate description, if the tiny wings coming out of the little dude’s back mean anything.
He’s got long, dark hair, and he’s wearing the brightest, tiniest clothes Steve’s ever seen. He’s got on a bright yellow t-shirt, a neon blue and yellow short sleeve shirt over that, and bright blue and purple pants in a completely different pattern. He seems friendly enough, offering a slightly dopey smile and a little wave.
Steve waves back, and when he moves his head to see if everyone else is seeing this shit, he’s met with looks of extreme confusion.
“Did you take something?” Eddie asks, “because if you did, I can take the kids home.”
Steve’s face scrunches up. “No, I did not take anything before coming to pick up children, thank you very much.”
Dustin looks at him, one foot still on the stairs up to the porch. “Then why are you hollering? And whipping your head around like there’s someone next to you when there isn’t?”
The little dude on Steve’s shoulder sighs. “Rude, but I’m used to it.”
“Wait, so none of you see the tiny little man next to my shoulder?”
“The fucking what now, Harrington?” Eddie asks, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
Were his eyes always pretty? Did Steve just not notice somehow?
“The little guy? Right here? Bright clothes, long hair, wings?”
Dustin shakes his head and turns back to the porch, dropping his backpack inside the screen door while the others file out of the car.
“Yeah, no, I’m not letting you drive anyone home like this. Whatever strain you smoked, will you let me know later? Seems like good shit. C’mon, minions! If you don’t wanna sleep over, it’s into the van with ye!”
“But I didn’t-” Steve protests, but it’s no use. The kids are already loading into Eddie’s van, complaining that it smells like smoke and old beer. Eddie goes into the trailer for a moment, shoving shoes on his feet and grabbing his keys from a hook on the wall. He’s wearing black and red plaid pajama pants and his Hellfire shirt, and when he reaches up to grab his wallet from a shelf, there’s a sliver of his stomach showing.
Steve must be staring, because Eddie pats him on the cheek as he walks by, smirking. His hair is in a low bun, and it looks so soft. Like if Steve reached out to play with it-
Oh dear god, he’s going insane.
The van pulls off into the night, and it suddenly occurs to Steve he still has an arrow in his ass.
“Oh shit, dude, I forgot about the arrow thing. Hold up,” The miniature winged man says, and with a snap of his fingers the arrow and subsequent pain are both gone.
“Am I going insane? Was I poisoned?” Steve asks aloud, to no one in particular. It’s possible someone could’ve slipped him something at some point, but when? He’s been holed up in the house for awhile now, except for work. Does Keith really not like him that much? Would he really put the effort into poisoning Steve? He certainly doesn’t put effort into putting on deodorant.
“Not poisoned, brother, just in need of some assistance,” the winged man says, and Steve’s brow furrows.
“I need to go home,” he mutters to himself, and the little flying guy zips right into the Beemer and makes himself comfortable on the dashboard, sitting criss-cross applesauce right in the center.
The drive is spent in silence, Steve looking down occasionally to check that the figment of his imagination is still there. It, no, he follows Steve out of the car and into the house, perching on the top of a lampshade while Steve flops face first into the couch.
“I’m going crazy. I’m barely twenty years old and my mind is coming apart,” Steve says into the cushion, and he feels the fluttering of tiny wings next to his face.
“Nah, man, you’re fine. You just needed a shot from the love doctor. Get it? Shot? Because I shot you in the butt?”
Steve heaves an exasperated sigh. “Yes, tiny figment of my imagination, I get it, thank you.”
“I’m no figment, my dude. I’m cupid, the mystical cherub of love. But my friends call me Argyle.”
Of course the culmination of head trauma and regular trauma would present itself as cupid sitting in Steve’s living room, reminding him that-
“Look, cupid, I know I’m chronically single okay? Everyone in my life loves to remind me of that.” Steve turns his head to the side, the texture of the fabric on the cushion imprinted on his face in pink marks.
“I told you my friends call me Argyle, and you and I are gonna be great friends by the end of this week.”
“Wait, week?” Steve asks, like that’s the most important question here.
“Yep, I’ll be with you for a week to help you fall in love with the person fated for you. Don’t ask me how that part works, that’s not my department. I’m head of the love department, along with my co-worker Chrissy, whose given name is Aphrodite, but she prefers Chrissy, and-”
Steve makes a squeaky, startled sound. “Aphrodite?!”
Argyle nods far too calmly. “Goddess of love, brah. She consults the fate department, picks out the soulmates, and if anyone needs a nudge, my arrow and I swoop in. Usually when the two people are in close range of each other. Which means…”
Steve sits up incredibly quickly, launching himself into a criss-cross position on the other end of the couch. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way- “You’re telling me Eddie Munson is my soulmate?”
Argyle nods, and Steve feels the blood drain from his face.
“I have to call Robin.”
–
“Steve, my dearest, you have to slow down,” Robin says, “you know I have ADHD.”
Steve breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Robin. There is a miniature winged man in my living room who says he is cupid and also that Eddie Munson, yes that one, is my soulmate.”
“Steven Marie Harrington, you promised you wouldn’t do drugs without me!”
“Why does everyone think I’m on drugs?!” Steve shrieks, several octaves higher than he’d like to admit.
“Because there’s no other option besides a severe mental break. Are you having one of those? I can bring you cookies.”
Steve smiles for a moment, despite the stress of the situation. Whenever he’s even slightly off, his platonic soulmate always offers to bring him cookies. Which brings up another question.
He covers the speaker of the phone with his hand. “Hey, Argyle, you said Eddie’s my soulmate, but what about Robin? She’s my person.”
Argyle nods around the miniscule bite of potato chip he’s got in his mouth. “That’s the friendship department next door.”
“Got it,” Steve says, and takes his hand away from the phone.
“I’m coming over, you talking to cupid alone in your living room is giving me the heebie jeebies.”
“Bring Oreos!” Steve says, and hangs up the phone.
–
Robin arrives via bicycle fifteen minutes later, Oreos in hand as requested. She uses her key to come in, drops her helmet by the door, and then-
“Holy fucking shit!”
Steve watches her go pale just like he did, which must mean- “Wait, can you see him?”
Robin nods, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, and relief courses through Steve’s veins.
“Oh, hey! You must be the Robin Buckley that’s on my list next,” Argyle says, and both Steve and Robin whip their heads to face him before facing each other. They communicate without words, vowing with just their eyes to never utter a word of this encounter to anyone else. They give each other a curt nod at the same time before continuing.
“So,” Robin says, mostly to herself to process, Steve knows. “From what you told me on the phone, cupid is real, soulmates are real, the goddess of love Aphrodite is real, and your soulmate is one Eddie Munson, which is tricky considering you’re not exactly his number one fan.”
“That’s an understatement,” Steve snorts.
Robin paces in front of Steve and Argyle, who sit on the couch. Argyle’s perched on top of Steve’s head in a way that isn’t unpleasant by any means. Maybe it’s the whole ‘god of love’ thing. She stops in front of Argyle, pointing at him.
“Do you know why Steve and Eddie got put together?”
Argyle shakes his head. “That’s not my part of the operation, dudette. Chrissy, goddess of love, and also my co-worker and best friend-”
“Right, right,” Robin says, taking this tremendously. But she’s been this way since Steve met her; curious and ready to make a plan. She actually reminds him a lot of-
“Nancy?!” He shouts, and his suspicions are confirmed when Robin’s cheeks flush the color of roses.
“One soulmate at a time, please,” Argyle says, and the two of them nod, focusing their attention back to him.
“Like I was telling Steve earlier, Chrissy picks out the matches, runs the data through the fate department, and then if things aren’t progressing at the correct rate, she sends me down to give gentle nudges. I don’t know why she picks who she does.”
“Gentle nudges my ass. Literally,” Steve gripes. His asscheek still hurts.
“Speaking of which, how can you shoot human-sized arrows?” Robin asks. It may not be the point of the discussion, but it had crossed Steve’s mind.
“Oh, the arrow comes out of the bow mini and then once it makes contact with the person, it becomes human-sized so it’s noticeable.”
“Is there any kind of like, love spell in there or anything?” Steve asks, and Argyle shrugs.
“Kind of? There’s magic in the arrowhead, I know that, but I can’t remember if it does anything or not.”
Steve lets out a breath before starting to laugh. It must sound completely unhinged, but of course. Of course he has to be drugged to fall in love. He’s still cackling when Robin speaks up.
“So did you make him start to have feelings for Eddie with the arrow?’ She asks, and Steve quiets down to hear the answer.
“Nah, man, that would be a total violation of like, human rights or something. I’m only here to speed things up so the two of them don’t miss their spot in the universe’s timeline. It’s complicated shit, bro.”
“Wait, hold the fucking phone, you’re telling me I have lovey-dovey bullshit feelings for Eddie? That’s literally ridiculous. The only feeling I have for that jackass is disdain,” Steve says.
The universe and its timeline can absolutely go fuck itself. There’s no way in hell Steve has feelings for him, and there’s certainly no way he’d do anything about it even if there was an inkling of a chance the feelings were mutual.
“Have you considered that your feelings of disdain towards him are rooted in compulsory heterosexuality and the leftovers of toxic masculinity making you see him as a competitor instead of the person he really is?” Argyle asks, and both Steve and Robin’s jaws drop.
“What? I know stuff.”
“Wow, okay,” says Robin, and she continues to pace in front of the couch. “So we need to get Dingus One and Dingus Two to fall in love,” she says to Argyle.
“Yes.”
“And you said it has to happen in a week?”
Argyle nods sagely. “They at least have to get the process started within the week, or their place in the universe will be lost.”
“Eddie Munson?” Steve murmurs, because he’s still stuck on that part. Of all the seven billion people in the world, someone picked Eddie Munson to be his soulmate.
Good grief.
“I don’t wanna narc on the dude, but I don’t have to shoot him with a magic arrow,” Argyle says, “Just you, bro.”
Robin looks at the two of them, and a smile creeps up her face. Steve knows that smile. It’s the ‘haha I told you so’ smile, but she’s never said anything about Eddie liking Steve.
“They both have feelings for each other, but Stevie here had to have a little push to get things moving. Got it,” she says, the smile still lifting the corners of her mouth. She grabs a pen and an old receipt from her pocket, getting ready to take notes. “It would seem we need a game plan.”
–
The three of them stayed up most of the night, discussing what needs to be done in the week and pinning their notes and plans to Steve’s cork board in his room. He put it up to be able to pin pictures of him and Robin and the kids to it, but it’s now holding a bunch of pieces of scrap paper with date ideas and factoids about someone he doesn’t even like.
Well, he does like Eddie. Apparently. He still isn’t buying this, despite having tangible proof via cupid that he has feelings for Eddie. But when the game plan was being made and Steve chimed in with the fact that he’s really not sure about it, Robin sat herself directly in front of him and squished his face together with her hands.
“Stevie, honey, you have a soulmate,” she said. “We’ve both been so worried about never falling in love to the point that we wanted to combine. But you have a soulmate, and a timeline, and I don’t want you to miss out on that.”
So he’s on board now. Because Robin’s always right, it’s just a fact at this point, and Argyle pointed out that fate doesn’t make mistakes.
“That’s their literal slogan, bro,” he said, and honestly the thought that there’s someone out there that’s been handpicked for Steve is sort of comforting, despite who that person is. So he’s on board, and he’ll give it his best shot, starting today.
The kids are scheduled for another Douches and Dragons game today, despite just playing yesterday. Apparently the Sinclairs are going out of town, and they’re at ‘the apex of the events’ so the kids need a ride. Typically their parents drop them off and Steve comes to get them, so he’s preparing for the awkwardness that’s going to ensue when he shows up on the Munsons’ porch early.
The drive seems shorter than it usually is, and he knows it’s just because he’s anxious. Steve stares at the trailer for a while before working up the courage and getting out to knock on the door.
Steve can hear the kids talking when he knocks on the door, and he hears Eddie tell them, the great adventurers, to pause for water while he ‘sees who dares to enter the cavern of Edward the Evil.’
Steve suppresses an eye-roll and waits for the door to open. When it does, he’s met with an incredibly confused face. Which happens to be a cute one. If Steve were into that kind of thing.
“Shit, is it five already? I could’ve sworn they just got here,” Eddie says, looking back at the kids and then a clock on the wall in the living room, a little wrinkle popping up between his eyebrows. “It’s two-thirty, Steve, is something wrong?”
“Uh, no. No, we’re, I’m- it’s all good. I just wanted to, uh. Hang out? I guess?”
Smooth.
Eddie’s face goes from confused to suspicious, and Steve hates it. He hates that just existing still makes people wonder what his motives are.
“You, Steve Harrington, want to ‘hang out’ in my house with a bunch of pubescent teens who are playing a nerd game?”
Steve shrugs, nodding, and by this point he’s got the attention of the kids.
“Steve? The fuck are you doing here?” Dustin shouts, and there’s a shout of, “Language, kid!” from the depths of the trailer.
“Sorry, Uncle Wayne!” Dustin hollers, and Erica covers her ears since she’s sitting right next to him.
“I just wanted to hang out with you- I mean, uh, you guys. All of you. Together,” Steve stutters out, hoping Eddie won’t catch the slip.
Of course he does. “You want to hang out with me? Whatever for, dear?” Eddie has a sarcastic glint in his eye, and it should make Steve back down, but he’s never been one to do that. When he’s in, he’s all in. No exceptions.
So he lets the pink of blushing tinge his cheeks and watches as Eddie sees it bloom over his face, his expression changing from smug to shocked in the span of seconds.
“Maybe I just wanted to see your pretty face, Munson. Did you ever think about that?”
Where Steve blushes a light pink, Eddie turns beet red. It’s nice, to watch it happen to him and know that Steve was the one who caused it. Eddie steps aside and lets him in, muttering something about snacks on the counter and covering his mouth by playing with his hair. Steve wishes he could see it, though. His lips are pink and full, almost always twisted up in thought or wrapped around a pen he’s biting on to focus.
The group is seated on the living room floor, a big paper map spread out in the middle. The kids each have their own sets of dice, and El is equipped with a notebook and pens. The miniature figurines Erica is always talking about are spread across the map, most of them on the upper right hand corner grouped together. He would reach out to grab one so he could look at it closer, but he knows he’d lose his hand altogether.
Steve tucks himself into the corner of the couch, dodging the glances from the kids that say ‘what the fuck?’ with their faces. The only person who isn’t looking at him warily is El, so he gives her a smile and a little wave before settling into his spot.
Eddie sits cross-legged in the empty spot at the head of the group, and Steve pulls a blanket over himself as he watches the kids shift so they’re all facing towards him.
“Adventurers! You stand on the precipice of Cassian’s Crossing, a vast and shadowed land,” Eddie begins, launching back into the story.
It’s almost annoying how easily he finds himself completely transfixed. Eddie uses his hands to illustrate the story, flinging them around when he raises his voice and moving them back and forth to represent the wind coming through the barren trees. He does character voices, which Steve already knew from listening to him and Robin read comics at the counter of Family Video, but they don’t sound silly or unnecessary, they sound right. Steve can’t take his eyes off of Eddie, not even for a second, and when the kids are deciding which downtrodden path to go down, Eddie looks back.
His pretty brown eyes catch the light, coloring themselves honey and glinting. A little smile ticks the corner of his mouth up, and he reaches up to fiddle with the ends of his curls again. Steve smiles, warm and genuine, at him, taking in the details of his face. His laugh lines, the little line between his eyebrows he gets from knitting them together when he’s thinking, every freckle on his face.
Around the thirty minute mark of listening in, Steve mostly understands what’s going on. The kids are on a mission to recover an ancient book that could save mankind (apparently), and they’re coming around a corner when Eddie calls for a perception check. Steve doesn’t know why, but the hair on the back of his neck stands up like he’s actually going through a dark, twisty path in the forest, and when Erica rolls a one, he cringes.
“Continue on your merry way then,” Eddie croons, smiling mischievously, and Steve narrows his eyes. Eddie looks at him with a devilish grin, mouthing ‘watch this’ while the kids aren’t looking.
“While you tread through the darkness, you feel the earth shake beneath your feet. A tunnel tears through the ground, knocking you to the dirt,” Eddie exclaims, sweeping the miniature figurines off of their tiny bases, “and you stand in fear and wonder of the creature before you…”
“Pause for dramatic effect,” Max mutters, and El snickers beside her. Eddie sticks his tongue out at the girls before continuing.
“An umber hulk!” He screams, the growl in his voice making a shiver run up Steve’s spine. He wants to know if Eddie would make that same noise again, perhaps tied to the bed and-
Oh dear.
He gives his head a miniscule shake to get himself focused again. He felt his eyes cloud over with want, and when he looks back at Eddie, it’s obvious he knows it. Steve blinks it away, his mouth open just the slightest bit, and Eddie’s gaze drops to meet his lips.
“Don’t look in its eyes!” Dustin shrieks, and Steve starts to pout and take offense, but then he remembers there’s a whole game going on around the eye-fucking Steve and Eddie are doing.
Eddie’s attention snaps back to the game, but Steve’s brain completely tunes out what’s going on. The kids are trying to fight this… giant ant? Maybe? But all Steve can hear and see is Eddie. His pretty pink mouth forms beautifully around every word, his hair moving wildly around his head as he narrates the fight.
“Told you bro,” a voice says, and Steve has to fight back a sigh when he feels Argyle take residence on Steve’s shoulder. He can’t even respond out loud right now, but it doesn’t stop Argyle from talking.
“You and Eddie, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”
Steve acts like he’s brushing dust off of his shoulder, eyes still on Eddie, and Argyle tumbles down to the couch cushion, picking himself up with a pout.
“Not cool, man,” he mopes, sitting on Steve’s ankle and starting a small braid in his hair. “I was gonna tell you to ask him out today, but nooo, you flick me off of your shoulder.”
Steve looks down at Argyle and gives him a small, friendly smile. Even if it’s weird having a tiny god of love sitting on his ankle, Argyle’s a good dude.
The fight is almost finished, all of the kids screaming now. In Steve’s brief attention absence they barely survived a swipe of the monster’s claws, and some of the members of the party can’t fight because they’ve been stunned somehow.
In the end, it’s down to Erica.
She turns to the other kids, panicked where she’s usually not easily rattled.
“What do I do?!” She asks, but none of the kids have an answer. Some of them literally can’t speak, apparently, since Max opens her mouth but gets a hell of a glare from Eddie. He looks up at Steve after he looks at her, like he’s expecting admonishment, but Steve’s thinking.
He’s racked up a little bit of knowledge, despite never actually playing, since the kids talk about this so much, and he figures he’s not necessarily in the group, so…
“Magic Missile!” Steve shouts, and every jaw drops, including Eddie’s. “Oh shut your faces, I know stuff, now use Magic Missile if you wanna kill this stupid thing!”
Eddie’s face bursts into the most beautiful, sunny smile. Steve smiles back at him, more reserved than he usually does, and he revels in the proud expression painting Eddie’s face.
“A wonderful idea from Sir Harrington,” he says, and Erica takes a deep breath as she rolls a six-sided die three times. Steve watches her, secretly crossing his fingers under the blanket.
“Fifteen,” she says, staring Eddie down like he’d better say that’s good or else.
Steve sees him whip around to grab a notebook from behind him, peering at the pages before putting it back. He takes a dramatic look at the kids, making them wait for it. Finally he tosses his head back, throwing his arms out and hollering, “the foe is vanquished by the great Lady Applejack!”
The trailer erupts into chaos, the map and figurines upended, and the kids jumping around screaming. Eddie still sits on the floor, cross-legged and staring up at the kids like they’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Steve smiles, laughing at Lucas and Mike chest-bumping each other.
It’s nice to see the kids happy. It reminds Steve they all still have a life left to live.
“I think we’ll call it there, kiddies,” Eddie says, getting up and stretching out. He reaches his arms upward, his shirt riding up. Steve tries not to stare, he really does, but the combination of soft stomach and fine, black happy trail proves to be too much. Eddie clears his throat, and Steve’s eyes snap back up to Eddie’s face, blushing at being caught out.
The kids are all protesting, saying they wanted to get to the book before Lucas and Erica leave for Florida, but Eddie starts rolling up the map.
“You’re almost through the crossing, my little explorers. Almost dying is a great stopping point,” he says, giving Mike a noogie while the others gather their things.
“Okay so here’s what you do,” Argyle says conspiratorially, “you’ll get the little dudes and dudettes out the door before you get him alone and ask him out.”
Steve nods minutely, not wanting to catch the attention of Eddie or the kids.
“Maybe something chill like milkshakes, ya know? He’s a milkshake kinda man.”
Steve nods again, folding the blanket up and hanging it over the back of the couch before getting up.
“Children, please make your way to the Beemer of Transport, I need to speak with your mother,” Eddie says, and the kids all roll their eyes before putting their shoes on and heading outside.
Dustin tries to linger a bit longer, tying his shoes at a glacial pace with a suspicious squint on his face.
“That means you too, Dustpan,” Eddie says, shooing him away with a wave of his hand.
Steve opens his mouth to say something about how he can’t get the kids to do anything he wants, so how can Eddie, when Eddie beats him to the punch.
“Are you fucking with me, Steve? Because if you are, I’d like to know now.”
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, defensive, and Steve frowns.
“Why would I be fucking with you?” It makes Steve much more sad than it should that Eddie thinks he’d play some kind of prank by flirting with him. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could escape the shadow his teenage self left behind.
Eddie softens slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe you thought it would be funny to make the local freakshow think you want to spend time with him.”
Eddie’s words in the Upside Down echo back in Steve’s ears now. Actually a good dude. Did he not think that anymore?
“I’m not fucking with you,” Steve says quietly. “I was actually gonna ask you if you’d like to get a milkshake with me.”
Eddie’s eyes go a mile wide when he hears that. His arms drop from their crossed position, and he looks like a deer in headlights, pale and nervous.
“Jesus Christ, okay. Wow, uh- oh my god you must think I’m an asshole, like the world’s biggest asshole. Milk, yeah, milk- good. Milk good? Jesus, Munson,” he says, rambling to only himself at this point. “Get it the fuck together, man, you can do this.”
Steve is more than happy to stand back and watch Eddie unravel himself for a minute or two, so he smiles as he watches Eddie try to come back from where he’s misstepped.
“Is this, like, a date-date? Like, do I need to find slacks?”
Steve bursts out laughing, his shoulders shaking and his head thrown back. When he looks at Eddie again, he’s trying so hard to be put out, but he really just looks lovesick.
Lovesick.
“No, Eds, you do not need to find slacks. Also, who calls them slacks?”
“Wayne,” Eddie grunts, blushing.
“It’s just milkshakes with little ol’ me. No slacks necessary. Does Friday sound okay?” Steve asks, looking at Eddie through his lashes. He has half a mind to bat them, but that just might be laying it on too thick.
“Friday is wonderful, I’m free, Friday- milkshakes,” Eddie stutters, pulling his hair over his mouth again. Steve gently removes it, tucking it behind Eddie’s ear.
“I’ll come get you at seven,” he says, swiping a thumb over the apple of Eddie’s cheek. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut for a second before they snap open and he stands ramrod straight.
“Sounds great,” he says, moving past Steve to open the door for him. “See you later, esteemed colleague!” He shouts, likely because the kids are trying their damnedest to listen in despite being in the driveway.
“Bye, Eddie!” Steve shouts, opening his door and putting a hand up to stop the questions before they even start. “I’m not taking questions at this time,” he says, ignoring the kids’ pleas as he drops them off one by one.
–
When Steve gets home, Robin is waiting in the living room for him.
To anyone else it would be abusing the spare key policy, but for Steve and Robin, who are now SteveandRobin, it’s common practice.
“So, how’d the infiltration of the nerd squad go?” Robin asks, munching on some microwave popcorn on the couch.
When he was little, Steve’s mother used to tell him that the living room furniture was meant to function like display furniture. He’d try to sneak into the living room after school for a snack and cartoons and he’d be met with a sharp look and a reminder that ‘we don’t eat in the living room, Steven.’ Now that the house is basically his since his parents permanently moved to their condo somewhere in the Carolinas, the living room is whatever Steve wants it to be.
So he flops his head into Robin’s lap, laying on the couch in his outside clothes, and opens his mouth so she can toss a few kernels of popcorn into it.
“It went well,” Steve says, talking through chewing his popcorn. “We have a milkshake date for Friday at seven.”
“I knew you could do it, broski!” Argyle says, poofing into Steve’s vision. He hovers above Steve’s face for a little while before sitting on Robin’s shoulder.
Steve recounts how watching Eddie during the game had a mesmerizing quality he hadn’t expected, how pretty his eyes are, and how much he wants to-
“Steven Marie Harrington!” Robin shrieks, throwing her hands over her ears and making gagging sounds.
Steve turns on the TV, Grease playing on whatever channel it was left on, and the three of them share popcorn (Argyle only needing one kernel for himself) and discuss the dynamics of a milkshake date.
“It can’t be too serious, so no big life questions. He probably believes in aliens and Bigfoot, so no need to ask that,” Robin determines, shoving more popcorn in her mouth.
“You just need to be yourself, man, you don’t have to dress up or anything. Or shit, maybe you do, what do I know?”
Steve and Robin both turn to look at Argyle like he’s got three heads.
“Well I’d hope you know a lot, you’re the literal god of love,” Steve says with an eye roll.
“I’m the god of love, not the god of dating. That shit sucks,” Argyle gripes.
Speaking of which.
“You guys do know I’ve done this before, right? The whole lighthearted milkshake date thing is sort of a specialty of mine. The waitresses at Benny’s all knew me by name in high school.” Steve may not be able to see Robin’s eye roll, but he sure can feel it.
“Yes, we know, dear, the Harrington charm, blah blah blah,” Robin says, starting to thread her fingers through Steve’s hair. When he looks up at the clock, he sees it’s only eight-thirty, but he figures there’s no harm in resting his eyes.
He can still hear Robin and Argyle discussing his hair when he drifts into sleep.
–
Steve finds himself standing on a very fluffy pink cloud.
The mechanics of it would be incredibly concerning if he didn’t feel the safest and most comfortable he’s ever been. A boundless sunset surrounds him, pink, orange, and yellow blending together in the sky, and somehow he smells rose and citrus.
He looks around, not seeing much at first until he’s suddenly face-to-face with a woman. She looks to be around his age, a bouncy strawberry blonde ponytail sitting on top of her head. She’s wearing a pretty pink dress with strawberries all over it, tulle ruffles decorating the cap sleeves and hem.
“Hi!” She says, a wide smile on her angelic face. “I’m Chrissy. I believe my friend Argyle introduced you?”
Is he… Is Steve seriously talking to fucking Aphrodite right now?
Holy shit.
“Uh, yeah, shit, hi. Hi! I’m Steve,” he says, reaching out for a handshake like his parents taught him.
She graciously takes it, giving him a light handshake with both of her unnaturally soft hands.
“My dearest, I’ve come to tell you that your window with your soulmate is beginning to close. If your love is not affirmed in seventy-two hours time, you will have to wait until your next lifetime to be reassigned.”
Seventy-two hours? Steve counts the days on his fingers, and that’s-
“Shit, that’s Friday night!”
He’s just about to go into a downward spiral of losing his chance at having a real soulmate when Chrissy steps forward, taller than him somehow, and places her hand on top of his head. His anxieties are instantly soothed and he sighs contentedly, melting under her touch.
“Everything will be alright, Steve. You’re on the right track. Your soulmate adores you. The only thing left to be done is confirm your placement in the universe’s timeline.”
Steve takes a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of the air. “How do I do that exactly?”
“True love’s kiss,” is all she says before the dream melts away.
–
Friday evening comes, and Steve is kind of a nervous wreck.
His outfit has been pre-selected by Robin; denim shorts that are just this side of slutty, a navy blue t-shirt, and the white and blue shoes he always wore at Scoops, sans monster guts. He’s choking on a cloud of Farrah spray when Argyle pops up.
“Big day, brochacho! Are you ready?” He asks, and Steve shrugs, a nervous habit.
“What if it doesn’t work? What if I do all this and it’s not enough? You said fate is in my favor or whatever, but it won’t do everything.”
Argyle frowns, moving a piece of Steve’s hair into position. “It won’t, but you heard Chrissy, Eddie adores you, man. He looks at you like the sun shines out of your juicy ass.”
“Juicy?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I said what I said.”
Steve looks at the clock and takes a deep breath, grabbing his wallet and keys and checking his hair one more time before making his way to the front door.
“Promise you won’t poof in and throw me off?” Steve asks, just to be safe.
“Pinky,” Argyle says, holding his tiny pinky finger up to Steve’s big one.
–
When Steve pulls up to the trailer, Wayne’s waiting on the porch with a shotgun perched between his knees.
Steve would say he’s seen this before, but he honestly hasn’t. The girls he’s taken on dates typically don’t have parents who care much about where they’re going or who they’re with. Wayne Munson is very obviously not that kind of parent.
“Hi there, sir,” Steve says, getting out of the car and approaching the porch just a bit too slowly.
“Evenin’. I hear you’re takin’ my kid for milkshakes.”
Steve hears an exasperated “Jesus H Christ, Wayne!” from the inside of the trailer, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of Wayne. He is the man with the gun after all.
Eddie comes barrelling out onto the porch, and he skids to a stop once he sees Steve. He’s gorgeous in the summer evening light, backlit by the golden-orange hue of the sun. He’s in his classic band shirt and ripped black jeans, but his hair is in a bun at the back of his head, two strands loosely framing his face.
“You look really nice,” Steve says, smiling at Eddie. Eddie opens his mouth to say something when Wayne clears his throat behind them. Eddie rolls his eyes, but Steve smiles.
“Yes, sir, I would very much like to take Eddie out for a milkshake,” he says, hoping he sounds more confident than he actually feels.
Wayne squints, giving him a once-over before laying the gun down on the wood floor of the porch. “Fine by me. As long as you know that if you mess with my boy, you mess with me. I imagine this steel toe won’t feel so great if it ends up where the sun don’t shine.”
Steve nods, still smiling at Wayne, and Eddie smacks his palm to his forehead.
“Understood, sir,” Steve says, “I’ll have him back by ten.”
“What am I, Cinderella?” Eddie gripes, turning to head for the car. “I’ll be back when I’m back, you old coot.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne says, shooing the two of them off of the porch.
“Have a good night!” Steve calls behind him, and reaches for Eddie’s hand.
–
The drive to the diner isn’t long, what with it being a small town and all, and Eddie fills silence easily. He talks about the game, and how he enjoys putting the kids through different situations to see how they react. Their hands creep towards each other over the console until their fingers intertwine, and it makes Steve’s heart light up.
They get a booth in the far corner of the room, just enough space between them and the other patrons that Steve’s comfortable starting a coy game of footsie under the table.
“I didn’t peg you for a footsie type,” Eddie says, fidgeting with his rings while he playfully bats Steve’s foot away.
Steve locks his ankle solidly around Eddie’s, getting a menu out so they can pick their shakes. “Well they say you learn something new every day.”
Eddie smirks, leaning his chin on one hand. “What else could I learn, hmm? Tell me a deep, dark, Steve secret.”
Steve recalls the advice of Robin and Argyle; keep it light and fun. What comes out of his mouth instead is: “I accidentally killed the class pet in third grade and blamed it on Bobby Gable.”
Eddie slaps his hand to his chest like he’s heard something life-altering, his jaw dropping. “I wonder what the statute of limitations is on that? Orange wouldn’t suit you, I don’t think,” Eddie says, shaking his head.
“Jokes on you, it absolutely does suit me,” Steve says, a faux upturn of the nose before laughing along with Eddie.
Steve chooses a strawberry milkshake, a classic, and Eddie goes for chocolate banana, which Steve didn’t really see coming.
“I thought you’d be more of a cookie dough man, honestly,” he says, smiling up at the waitress who writes down their order and gives them a knowing glance before going to the back to mix the shakes.
Their ankles are still interlocked, but Steve reaches across the table anyway, happy to see Eddie blush and offer his hand.
“Still can’t believe this is real,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve nods in agreement.
“Me, neither. It kind of hit me like a ton of bricks, to be honest. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize you were never, like, competition for me, if that makes sense. I couldn’t really understand that I had feelings for you because I was too defensive about losing my kids.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in concern, his soft face creasing. “What made you think you were losing the kids?”
Steve sighs, embarrassed. “Dustin was the first to start pulling away, and it was hard. You give him a tape and he listens to it religiously, but when I do, it ends up on the floor. You wear your backpack on one shoulder and now he does. I just felt like he cared so much more about you.”
Eddie gives Steve’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Steve, he loves you. Most of the time, he either badgers me about what I’m doing in the campaign next or talks to me about you. Just the other day he was telling me how excited he is for you teaching him to drive.”
“God help us all,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie snorts out a loud laugh that makes an old lady a few tables away look over at them.
“I don’t wanna steal your kids, Steve. Actually, I think I’d like to co-parent, if that’s alright with you. Since you have feelings for me and all.”
Just as Eddie finishes his sentence, the shakes arrive. The waitress sets them down on the table, asking if there’s anything else they need. As soon as Steve tells her they’re all good, thanks, and she walks away, he gets a fingerful of whipped cream and plops it right on Eddie’s nose.
“Why, I never!” Eddie exclaims, fake transatlantic accent and all, and Steve outright cackles. It doesn’t matter that everyone in the restaurant just heard his ugly laugh. Or that they all probably know the two of them are on a date. It just matters that he made Eddie laugh.
“That’s what you get for being a shit,” Steve says in between giggles, and when the laughs simmer down into sweet smiles, they strike up a conversation.
They sit and talk for ages, milkshakes finished and glasses forgotten at the end of the table, and Steve finds himself content to listen to anything that comes out of Eddie’s mouth. They talk about what they were like as kids, how they liked to play pretend, and how growing up in Hawkins has affected them. Steve tells Eddie that he really did enjoy watching D&D, but that he might be a bit biased because the dragon person is so pretty.
“It’s dungeon master, but you get a pass for now,” Eddie says, a sugar-sweet smile on his face.
The sun is fully set over the horizon by the time Steve lays down the bills for the check and offers his hand to Eddie to help him out of his side of the booth. They mosey into the parking lot, swinging their hands between them and looking up at the stars that dot the navy-black sky.
“I don’t want this to end,” Eddie says quietly, his chin tilted up like he meant to say it to the stars.
“It doesn’t have to,” Steve murmurs, turning to face Eddie and gently tilting his chin down with his knuckle. “We’ve got time.”
“We do, don’t we?” Eddie muses, and Steve nods before letting his eyes flutter closed and moving forward.
It’s a movie kiss is what it is.
Steve moves his lips against Eddie’s under the stars, the two of them locked in a moment together. Eddie opens his mouth for Steve who gladly takes the invitation, and he feels it as soon as his tongue slides against Eddie’s- their place in the universe.
It’s all connected, golden and sparkling between them, and it’s like a piece of Steve that he’d been missing clicks into place. The breathy sounds Eddie makes make a symphony in Steve’s ears, and he can’t help but smile into the kiss.
In the moment their lips are apart, Eddie whispers, “do you feel that?” Steve nods, pulling his soulmate back in, ready to begin their lifetime.