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It’s not a date, Eddie reminds himself for about the hundredth time that afternoon.
It’s just that the others must’ve cancelled, he figures. Robin and Nancy, because they definitely would’ve been asked too, maybe even Jonathan and Argyle, but it’s summer, people have other plans, the others just…must not have been available.
He tells himself this firmly as he follows Steve on the little path through the woods to the edge of Lover’s Lake.
As Steve sets up the picnic blanket, Eddie repeats it to himself again. And while he puts the little basket down, while he pulls out baked goods and small sandwiches with the crusts cut off Eddie chews on his bottom lip and digs his nails into his palms because Steve’s so fucking perfect and Eddie would love more than anything for the two of them to be something more, for this picnic to be something other than just an outing of friends…
But Steve isn’t his, and this is not a date.
“Want a beer?” Steve asks, blinking up at Eddie.
“Uh…yeah,” Eddie wills himself to speak, to unfreeze, to act fucking normal.
He lowers himself onto the blanket next to Steve, looks out across the lake. It’s a hot day, barely a breeze to shift the muggy air around, and the lake is still and clear as glass. Eddie sneaks glances at Steve as he rifles around in the basket for the beers he’d stashed there earlier. Steve’s in a tank top and stupidly short shorts, and he’s all golden skin kissed with moles and cheeks slightly reddened from long days spent in the sun and Eddie wants to reach out and touch…
He swallows thickly instead. Takes the beer Steve’s holding out to him, sips at it, then again to give his mouth something to do so he doesn’t say something stupid…
“S’nice here, huh?” Steve comments, taking the lid off one of his containers and offering it to Eddie.
Eddie reaches in, pulls out a cookie, no doubt carefully baked by Steve the day before.
Why did he have to be so perfect?
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, clearing his throat. He flaps a hand towards the water. “Certainly nicer than when we were last here.”
Steve chuckles lightly, nods. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to – they all know they’re remembering that time in the dark, in the cold; slimy tentacles and black depths and a gaping gate to hell.
They’ve come to the opposite side of the lake today, Eddie notices. As far away from…that spot as they can be. And everything looks different from this angle, like if he squinted they could be somewhere else entirely.
That had no doubt been intentional on Steve’s part, he supposes.
They eat in silence for a short time, until Eddie can’t bear it anymore – he never was very good at keeping his mouth shut.
“A shame Buckley and the others couldn’t make it,” he says through a mouthful of bread.
Steve frowns, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. “Huh?”
“Buckley,” Eddie repeats, swallowing before he was quite ready to, wincing as the food hurt his throat going down. “And Nance, Jonathan and Argyle…were they busy or something? They would’ve liked this.”
Steve’s frown deepens. “I dunno, I didn’t…I didn’t ask them.”
What?
Eddie falters. Stutters around his sentence a bit. “You didn’t? I – I just…well, I thought…you and Robin do everything together and Nancy often tags along with her now and so I just figured you would’ve asked them at least, too.”
Steve’s brow unknits. He puts down his beer, turns to Eddie, sunlight dancing in his eyes.
Eddie’s heart thumps at the sight.
“Eds…I wanted to come here with you. Just you.”
“Why?” Eddie refuses to admit the way that word came out as a squeak.
Steve tilts his head, a small smile playing across his lips. “You don’t know?”
No, Eddie very much doesn’t, because he’s been refusing to let himself believe even for a moment that Steve is remotely interested in him for anything other than friendship because he’ll be let down, he’ll be so fucking disappointed when it turns out not to be true. So he’s been strict with himself, he’s told himself over and over that Steve doesn’t like him like that, has ignored the lingering looks from the other man and the soft touches to the back of his hand, to his shoulder, because Steve’s a touchy sort of guy, they don’t mean anything.
Eddie’s not in love with Steve Harrington, he’s told himself every single damn day for months now.
The truth is, he’d fallen ass over tit in love with the former King that fateful night in Reefer Rick’s boatshed.
“Eddie,” Steve continues softly, reaching cautiously for his hand, taking it gently.
Eddie lets him. Thinks he’d let this man do anything.
“I…I like you. All this -” Steve gestures around them, to the lake, to the picnic blanket, to the food he’d prepared, “ – you know this is…a date, right?”
Oh.
Oh.
“This is me trying to…woo you, or whatever, maybe it sounds stupid but I’ve only ever done this with girls and they always liked this sort of thing so I thought…well. Sorry. If it’s stupid. Or…” Steve waves a hand, drops his chin to his chest, cheeks flushed with something more than just the sun now. “We can go somewhere else, if you want. Or home. If you want to go home. I could drive you back -”
“No,” Eddie interrupts, perhaps a little too zealously because Steve snaps his mouth shut. “I didn’t…I didn’t know this was a date.”
Amusement dances across Steve’s face. “You didn’t think the picnic with just the two of us at Lover’s Lake of all places was a date?”
Eddie sniffs, because when it was put like that…
Steve laughs, shuffles closer to him. “Sorry, Eds. Maybe I should’ve just told you. I was nervous, ok?”
“You? Nervous? Because of a date?” Eddie splutters. “You’ve been on so many, you could like…tutor people on dating, and shit.” And that was…a little lame, but Eddie’s reeling here.
“But this is you,” Steve says quietly, and it’s so sincere that Eddie goes still, looks down at their joined hands. “It matters.”
Eddie breathes out. Looks up again, meets Steve’s eyes and goes warm all over because Steve’s gazing at him like he hung the moon or something.
He’d try, if Steve asked him to.
He let Steve bring a hand to his cheek. Let him guide him forward, until their noses brushed, until their lips pressed together, and then Eddie Munson was kissing Steve Harrington and stranger things had happened - the two of them were all too fucking aware of that, they were sitting on top of a nightmare realm for fuck’s sake.
But somehow the Upside Down had been easier for Eddie to wrap his head around than this.
Steve kisses him. Gently, with his hand tangled in Eddie’s curls, and Eddie thinks he could die here, on the shore of the lake that really had nearly killed them.
But then Steve’s pulling back a little, and Eddie remembers how to breathe, and he’s very much not dead, he’s alive and Steve’s smiling at him and Eddie feels like the luckiest man alive.
“You do that on every date, Stevie?” Eddie quips, but he’s panting a little, Steve having stolen the air from his lungs.
Steve grins. “Only the best ones.”