Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As soon as Steve got home that day the first thing he did was furiously scrub any remnants of blue from his hands. He had finally gotten himself to stop crying, but it still felt like everything hurt. He hadn't wanted to hurt Eddie, and he half-regretted the things he'd said, but he had a choice to make and he made it. He couldn't be normal with Eddie in his life. They had talked about differences this weekend, changes, the fact that sometimes weird things could be good, but...but that was supposed to be about things like Coke and Oreos, puns, music, not-! Not about being gay.

Even though that subject had come up briefly, and from an outside view, sure Steve hadn't really cared, took an even opinion because he thought his friends were making fun of Eddie, not really thinking it...it could be true. Steve had never met a gay person, but now he'd spent a whole weekend with one. He slept in the same bed, they showered together! The thought of which made him sick, but not just with disgust; with guilt.

He still blamed himself, he should've known, he should've known that what he was feeling hadn't been normal. It had just made him feel so...so good in the moment - being with Eddie! But he supposed that's what they tell you, things that are good are usually too good to be true. Or maybe that's why gay was synonymous with happy, something he might've made a pun about if Eddie were here. If they were friends.

Steve had to stop thinking like that, but it seemed the whole day he couldn't get Eddie off his mind. Even as he was getting ready for bed he had felt something in his pocket, and that's when he pulled out the folded portrait. His initial reaction was to rip it up, shred it, throw it in the trash and wait for it to be crushed just like his Captain America lunchbox.

He just…couldn't.

Instead he kept it folded and shoved it in the back of a drawer to be forgotten. Which is what he tried to do with all the memories of the past four days, just shove them aside, bury them in a box in the corner and eventually they'd go away. If he did that things would go back to the way they were. Tomorrow will be normal.

Tomorrow was normal, as was the day after that and the day after that, and all the following days. He avoided Eddie like the plague, and if he ever caught his gaze drifting that way in class he would immediately snap his attention elsewhere. Eventually his other friends stopped poking fun at how 'weird' he'd been those few days and things went back to normal there too.

The next few years passed in a similar fashion - sports, parties, girls - all things that any typical teen flick would show you. The most notable thing was that Steve fell in love his Junior year. Nancy Wheeler wasn't the ideal love interest: she was bookish, didn't do sports or cheer, and she was only a sophomore, but Steve couldn't help it. He loved her smile, her curly brown hair, her sweet brown eyes, and he actually liked that she was a bit nerdy. It certainly helped when he had to study, because even if they disregarded the books to kiss Nancy made sure they had at least accomplished something first. His friends weren't as thrilled, Tommy especially was vocal about her flaws, but as soon as he started dating Carol things seemed to calm down enough. It was nice. Things were nice in Steve's life and he could only see things getting better.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long and far he had walked that afternoon to escape the woods by Lover’s Lake and finally make it to a pay phone. But he was tired and cold by the time he got there, and the sun had slipped under the horizon. All he knew was that guilt gnawed at his stomach as he heard the underlying note of worry in his uncle’s voice, when he picked up the phone after one ring.

By the time they made it back to the trailer, Eddie discovered he did still have some tears in him, after all. And Wayne, stoic and gruff as he was, was still good enough to hug his boy as he cried, managing to get enough of a half-garbled version of events out of Eddie to know that he and Steve had had a fight, one that made their childhood falling out look like little more than a silly boyhood squabble in comparison. There’d been a couple of offers to “get his guy” put on the table, Eddie’s vehement insistence that he just wanted to forget the whole thing had ever fucking happened the only thing that silenced Wayne, eventually.

The next day when Gareth tried to tease him about his afternoon ice cream rendezvous, he hadn’t even managed to get Steve's name out before Eddie announced that he never wanted to hear it again, all but writing it into some kind of Corroded Coffin pact of honor. Jeff and Kenny seemed…borderline relieved at the announcement, or, at the very least, less confused than they had been when Steve’s presence had graced their table the day before. Gareth just looked worried, but after he tried to broach the subject one last time and Eddie asked him weakly to, “Just drop it, man. Please,” he kindly had. There was a reason he was Eddie’s best friend, after all.

Eddie never told Gareth Steve had kissed him. He never told anyone. And then the years passed by for Eddie, too.

It didn’t look anything like a teen movie. At least, not any movie Eddie had ever seen. Corroded Coffin kept up their band practice, even finally managed to land a semi-regular gig at Hawkins’ one and only dive bar, the Hideout. Eddie finally got his D&D club off the ground, and Hellfire was born. And when the bills started to wear the Munson cupboard bare, the circles under his uncle’s eyes growing more prominent, Eddie started dealing for Reefer Rick.  He couldn’t say he loved skulking on the edges of rich kid parties, or dealing to the jock meatheads who held them, but, hey. Money was money, and Eddie wasn’t in a position to turn his nose up at that. People still called him a freak, a Satan worshiper, a nasty queer. He hadn’t bothered to challenge them on that last point in a long, long time.

Then, finally, when Eddie was 16, he kissed a boy who wasn’t Steve Harrington. And though he wasn’t exactly a gay Casanova–who the hell could be, in Hawkins, Indiana?--he kissed a handful of boys after that, too. Even managed to lose his virginity to one of them. Steve Harrington held the title of the first boy to kiss Eddie and then call him a freak, a fag, tell him to stay the hell away from him with a shove to the arm or a fist in his shirt–but he sure wasn’t the last.

There were other boys, though. And, yeah, their lips never tasted like peaches and sunshine, like giddy friendship turned to romance, but it was still…fine. It was good, even. It was how things were supposed to be. Happily ever afters weren’t real.

Sure, Eddie still believed in the power of escaping into a good fantasy–after all, he was president of the school’s D&D club, for Christ’s sake–but he’d learned well, after that day, that fairytale endings were for children, and love and romance were Hollywood constructs used to sell heart-shaped cards in February. That wasn’t for people like him, and it never would be. That’s what he told himself, at least.

For his part, during that time, Eddie honored the demand Steve had made in the woods that day. He reverted right back to the strategy he’d been using up until the fateful weekend everything had gotten turned on its head–pretending like he had never known Steve at all. It wasn’t easy, exactly, but it was at least familiar. So, he didn’t talk to Steve. He did his best not to even look at Steve, if he could help it. Shit, he pretty much stopped going to Johnson’s history class altogether not too long after their presentation, to minimize the possibility they’d even end up breathing the same air. He earned an F for his efforts, and there were other classes they shared the next year, unfortunately for him. But no one could claim Eddie hadn’t tried to avoid Steve as much as possible.

Sure, when he was in Steve’s vicinity, sometimes he’d stoop to doing shit Eddie knew would annoy him, just out of spite. But, for the most part, he stayed out of Steve’s way, and Steve thankfully stayed out of his. …That didn’t mean, however, that Eddie didn’t still notice him, from time-to-time, picking up the nuggets of information that seemed most relevant. Know thy enemy and all that shit.

So, he kept just enough of an ear to the ground to end up shocked when whispered rumors circulated the halls that the King had started dating pretty, preppy sophomore Nancy Wheeler. Eddie couldn’t say he knew Wheeler all that well, didn’t really have any reason to. They did share an afternoon math class, though, which meant he knew enough to know she seemed whip smart, always raising her hand to answer questions despite being a year younger than a lot of her classmates. From the little that Eddie had seen, Wheeler always seemed quiet, careful and sweet. She hung around with Barb Holland, wrote for the school newspaper and shit. If Eddie had to sum her up, he’d say she struck him as kinda prim and buttoned-up, absolutely not the cheerleader type, maybe even a little bit nerdy. …Every single one of these things seemed like a box just waiting to be checked off on an imaginary list somewhere labeled: “Reasons Steve Harrington Absolutely Won’t Look Twice at You.” Steve had, apparently. And Eddie did his damnedest not to think about it.

And he also tried his best not to be bitter. He really, really did. Eddie was a cheerful person by nature, he thought, despite appearances. Besides, he had a fine life. He had friends, he had his campaigns, he had his music, he even had a handful of trysts under his belt now. There was nothing to complain about, not really. So, yeah. Eddie wasn’t bitter.

…But he also wasn’t enough of the ‘bigger person’ to pretend he didn’t hate the fucking basketball team. And not just the basketball team. Jocks in general. Anyone, really, who upheld the status quo. Sure, he would never target anyone directly--he wasn’t that much of an asshole, and he refused to become a bully, on that point he was adamant–but that didn’t mean the rest of the student body wasn’t going to get an earful of his opinions on the subject matter. Loudly. On top of a lunch table. On a semi-regular basis. …which was exactly how he was spending the lunch period this fateful day of junior year.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Commonfolk of the Hawkins High cafeteria, gather round, and I will tell you a tale of a magical orange sphere that has you all entranced under its evil spell. They call it–the basketball!” Eddie had adopted his DM voice, big and theatrical in parts, a stage whisper in others, as he brandished his arms broad and wide.

Below him, his friends were snickering, encouraging his ridiculous antics as usual. As he carried on, Eddie cupped his hands around his mouth and, well. If he happened to turn in the direction of Steve and Hagan’s table, it didn’t hurt to have a target in the audience, as an example if nothing else.

“You’ve been brainwashed, my friends, into thinking that anyone who can handle these balls should automatically be granted the title of high school royalty, valorized as ‘cool’ forever, whatever the fuck that means. But, I’ve got news for you. Like 90% of the shit lauded as ‘noble’ in Reagan’s America it doesn’t. fucking. matter. It’s just one in a million among the pointless bullshit they want you to care about so you’ll stay docile, think you’re happy as you grow up behind your miserable white picket fences, and never, ever even think to rock the boat!”

Eddie's speeches weren't new. Not to Steve and not to anyone else with ears. Keeping to his promise though, Steve made a point to tune out anything and everything Eddie Munson related. Even when the guy knew just how to push his buttons Steve knew better than to engage with that particular classmate. Tommy on the other hand wasn't above taking the bait.

He turned around in his seat to sneer at Eddie. "Why don't you come over here and say that to my face, freak?"

Steve just put a hand on the side of his face, blocking anything else out as he focused on the mushy casserole in front of him.

Eddie grinned. He'd never been one for a physical fight, but he'd take his blows if he had to. Plus, riling up the jocks was too entertaining, like shooting fish in a barrel. Moreso, though he loathed King Steve these days, he hated Hagan just as much if not more. Getting under his skin, easy as it was, felt like a personal triumph.

"If I thought it'd actually penetrate your thick ass skull, I might, Hagan!" he crowed cheerfully, knocking on the side of his head. "Think you've taken one too many blows to the head in your laundry basket game for that, though."

At that Tommy stood up. ""That's it! If you wanna talk about blows, we'll give you a blow to the head you won't forget. Come on, Steve."

Steve was still doing his best to ignore the situation. "I-I don't want to blow anybody."

"Yeah." Nancy said pointedly. "I think we all just calm down and sit down."

Rather than a verbal retort, Eddie simply stuck up devil's horns on the side of his head, sticking out his tongue, snake-like, at Hagan. Satisfied he had gotten a rise out of the jock, pumped up his anger with nowhere to go, Eddie decided to make a noble retreat. After all, he'd said his piece for now. So Eddie spun on his heel, preparing to hop down and rejoin his friends' conversation.

Except Eddie wasn't free to go yet. Tommy hadn't sat down; hadn't backed down yet. "Come on guys, are we going to let him get away with this? Steve, dude, back me up here!"

"I don't-" But Steve's support wasn't needed as Jimmy and Bobby stood too.

"I don't think he should get away with it either."

"Great!" Tommy grinned. "You guys hold his arms."

Descending like lions, the jocks were quick to grab Eddie's arms before he could make it back to the head of his table. They pulled him down to the ground, primed for a beating. Except instead of throwing punches, Tommy grabbed an applesauce off of Jeff's tray and smashed it against Eddie's shirt. "How you like them apples, freak?"

And...yeah, so Eddie really should have anticipated he wasn't gonna get away with that one scot-free. The applesauce was cold and sticky where it dripped down the front of his shirt, and he could practically hear Uncle Wayne's voice in the back of his head, his drawl thick. ‘You got to learn when to leave well enough alone, boy.’ Didn't really seem like a lesson he was going to learn today. So he smiled, big and bright.

The years had taught Eddie well enough how to smile through every taunt and shove, wield the expression like a weapon to put off anyone who messed with him. "Aww, Hagan, for me? You shouldn't have, man."

Tommy's smirk faltered for a second before his tiny brain came up with something else. "Well if you liked that, maybe you'll like a knuckle sandwich."

As he was priming to pull a punch, Nancy was shaking Steve's arm. "Steve, you have to do something! Are you just going to let them hurt him?"

Steve shrugged a bit. "I uh..."

"Steve, please ."

With a sigh Steve finally got out of his chair in time to grab Tommy's hand. He took care not to even look at Eddie. "Alright guys, cut it out."

Tommy turned his glare to his buddy. "Oh come on. What, you're really going to let this weirdo insult us and act up just because your little girlfriend said so?"

Steve stared Tommy down, but as he did he could feel everyone else watching him. That was the drawback of being popular - all eyes were on you all the time. So as much as Steve loved Nancy, he couldn't disappoint his public. "No...I just think you're going about this all wrong. The first step to proper humiliation is that you've gotta milk it."

To make his point Steve took Gareth's open carton of milk and poured it all over Eddie's head. "See? Now that's how it's done."

His basketball friends laughed and gave him pats on the back. They were still chuckling back to their table, but as soon as Steve saw Nancy's expression he stopped.

She had stood up, holding her tray. "I can't believe you. I'm going to sit with Barb."

"Oh Nancy, come on we were just joking." She turned up her nose and started walking. "Nance! At least I stopped them from hitting him!"

She didn't listen, but she did stop by Eddie a moment to hand him a bunch of napkins from her tray. "I'm so sorry about that. If you want to know how to get those stains out, I can tell you."

Eddie really, genuinely couldn't believe that Steve had thrown out a fucking pun before pouring milk, sopping wet and cold, all over his head. The worst part about having actually known Steve--in ways the lies in his head couldn't truly erase--was seeing glimmers of the boy he'd known pop up in the worst possible ways.

"Yeah, Wheeler, don't you know what a practical jokester the King is?!" Eddie called out sarcastically, loud enough for the other table to hear him. But he felt chastened the moment after he'd done it. There was no reason Nancy should have to see his ire, not really. So he took the napkins gratefully. "But, uh...thanks for this. Really. And no need to apologize, man. You didn't do shit."

"You're welcome. And I know. I'm not the kind of person who picks on people to make myself feel better." She also spoke loud enough for others to hear her. Steve groaned from his spot at the table.

"Babe, it's not like that. I'm sorry, okay?"

"And I'm also not the one you should be apologizing to." She threw a look over her shoulder at him.

Steve kept his eyes on her, but eventually let them flick to Eddie's for a moment. Then he just turned his back, focusing on Tommy and the rest of his table with a muttered 'whatever'. Nancy just clicked her tongue before reaching out to pat Eddie's shoulder, but seeing as it was covered with lunch items, she held off.

"Baking soda and dish soap should fix that right up." She gave him a quick smile and then went off to find Barbara.

The moment Steve's eyes met his made Eddie's stomach turn. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen their particular shade of warm brown. But the look was brief, there and gone in a flash, and Eddie instantly squashed any emotions it might have stirred up within him.

"You're good people, Wheeler!" he called to Nancy's retreating figure, giving her a brief salute.  And the worst part was...it was true. Eddie found himself forced with no choice but to actually like Steve Harrington's girlfriend.

He turned to the Hellfire boys. "So...who wants to go help me use one of the tiny ass sinks in the bathroom by the chem lab to wash milk out of my hair?" he asked, faux chipperness back.

Like Nancy, Jeff just barely managed to avoid patting Eddie on the arm as he said, "We've got your back, man."

Gareth stood up, seemingly suppressing a sigh even as he shot Eddie a concerned look. "I'll go get the spare Hellfire shirt out of my locker."

So, his friends in tow, Eddie made his way out of the cafeteria. And he didn't look back over to the jock table once.

Chapter Text

There were a few more lunchroom close-calls all the way to Senior year. Except by then Steve had stopped joining in, mostly because he wasn't even a part of his old table anymore. He'd had a falling out with Tommy and the rest towards the beginning of the year, and that made it all too easy for the newcomer from California, Billy Hargrove, to usurp the King. So from then on Steve just sat by Nancy and people that she knew. But not Barb.

Something had happened last year, starting with the disappearance of Will Byers, and since that day things in town had felt...off. People died, there were rumors of monsters, and then Will had seemingly come back from the dead. It seemed like something that should've garnered more attention overall, but most people eventually moved on, reverting back to normalcy as society does even after the strangest of occurrences. One constant though, something that everyone could rely on...was a Halloween party.

Steve needed a party. Especially since he hadn't been able to throw one at his own house since...well since Barb was alive. Then being ousted from his throne hadn't earned him a ton of invites lately. So Steve begged and put on the puppy-eyes for Nancy to get dressed up and join him. She eventually conceded and Steve raised his hopes high for the night.

That was a mistake. It only caused him to crash that much harder when Nancy called him 'bullshit'. Not just him, but everything. She called their love bullshit. Nancy didn't love him. The girl he had started to think of marriage with, of having a family with... Nancy. Didn't. Love . Him.

Steve walked out of that bathroom, slamming the door behind him, and did his best not to cry. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he pushed past other partiers. His intended goal was to get outside, but just through the glass door he saw Tommy. Not wanting that headache, he decided to go with a different kind of headache. The numbing kind.

He grabbed a red Solo cup and dipped it into the jungle juice he had knocked out of Nancy's hand. She had had enough to drink, but now his night was just starting.

Eddie wasn't the type to get invited to parties. His standing on the Hawkins High food chain wasn't so much at the bottom as--off the scale altogether. ...But. He was also pretty much the only dealer most of his classmates knew. Which meant he had scored an automatic invitation to Tina's big Halloween bash, one he couldn't refuse given the amount of cash he was likely to rake in before the night was out. So, Eddie did what any young entrepreneur would do. He donned his best Han Solo costume and showed up barely fashionably late to the shindig, just ten minutes after the festivities kicked off.

That had been several hours ago now, and Eddie'd had to sell to Hagan and Hargrove in the intervening period. The only pleasure he'd managed to derive from that entire encounter was the fact he'd charged them both double the usual going rate. But that one interaction alone was enough to really surpass his 'dealing with assholes' quota for the night, meaning that he had more than earned his right to a drink. Once he'd made his way over to the jungle juice, Eddie reached for a cup. Somehow in the process, he accidentally jostled against the guy already ladling a generous serving out for himself.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, ma--" As Eddie turned to face his fellow party goer, the words died in his throat.

...Staring back at him was Steve fucking Harrington, looking worse for wear, eyes red-ringed. Evidently, the fates thought his asshole quota hadn't been reached just yet. Eddie yanked his arm back from where it was still touching Steve's, the motion quick and jerky, as if he'd been burned.

Steve blinked at Eddie, and then at his arm, and then he did one really long blink as if his brain was trying to put the pieces together. When he opened his eyes again he was looking at Eddie's face. Then Steve started to laugh, a small scoff at first, but it escalated to a full laugh. He cut himself off by taking a swig of his...whatever number drink this was. He raised his almost empty cup to the ceiling, a dopey smile now on his lips.

"Sure! Why the fuck not?" He said to no one except the invisible god that decided to curse him tonight, and then he looked at Eddie yet again after a heavy sigh.  "So...how've ya been?"

Eddie recoiled slightly in sheer confusion, giving Steve a look like he was the one deserving of the 'freak' moniker in that moment.

"Um...what the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie heard himself ask flatly, mouth moving on autopilot despite the fact he and Steve hadn't spoken directly in years. "You--you do know who you're talking to, right?"

"Of coursa know who you are." Steve poked a wavering finger into Eddie's chest. "Boop! You're that...you're that scruffy nerf-herder Eddie Muns-ter-son." He snorted. "Eddie Munster. That kid was weird, but you're weird too, but it's okay because the whole fucking world is weird."

Well, that made sense, at least. Steve was drunk. That was the only reason he was speaking to Eddie at all, because his inhibitions were too low to know any better. Eddie felt mildly impressed, given his state, that Steve had managed to recognize the costume. Not that he was gonna tell him that. ...And he was also adamantly ignoring the way the spot Steve had poked him in the chest felt like it had been seared with sudden heat

 "Holy shit, dude, you're plastered," Eddie remarked with a snort of his own. "And, uh, gonna disagree with you there--no big surprise. Far as I can tell, weird isn't allowed anywhere near your zip code, let alone all over the whole goddamn world."

There was the faintest tinge of bitterness to the words, and Eddie had no idea why he'd said them in the first place. Disagreeing with drunken Steve Harrington was an exercise in futility, but the situation was also so surreal Eddie wasn't sure he could walk away from it.

"But it is!" Steve started out defensive. "Weirdness is just...all over fucking Hawkins! It's...it's..."

At that point Steve had gestured out at the crowd in the house, but then got distracted looking at his own hand, turning it over and waggling his fingers. Then he pulled his arm back close to his chest and looked at Eddie briefly. A gasp escaped him and he snapped his fingers, except they were too clumsy to make a sound.

"Han Solo! That's the dude's name from uh...Star...Planets. Star Shooters. It's that movie Nancy's brother likes." Steve scoffed. "Hey that's, that's one good thing. I'll never have to see that little prick again. He always hated me. Maybe Nance always hated me too. You...you know what she said to me tonight?"

He swayed towards Eddie, putting a hand on the guy’s shoulder to steady himself.

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. 'Star Shooters' sounded a lot more like the Steve Harrington he remembered. His brow drew together at Steve's continued drunken rambling, though. Wheeler hating him was...a new development. Not too long after giving Eddie his little milk shower in the cafeteria, it seemed like former King Steve had pulled his act together for his lady love. He'd showed up to school one day with a hell of a shiner, rumor had it bestowed by Jonathan Byers of all people in some back alley fight. It was clear, in the days that followed, that he and Hagan had had some kind of falling out, too, one it didn't seem like they were coming back from. Steve stopped hanging around with his old crowd, sat exclusively at Nancy's table in the cafeteria. And just like that, Steve Harrington's reign was over.

Sure, he was still a jock, so it wasn't like he became a total social pariah overnight. But that top of the food chain popularity Steve would have done anything to maintain when they were freshmen was gone suddenly. Eddie was impressed, honestly. Steve must have really loved Wheeler. ...Cuz Eddie knew for a fact he sure as shit never could have convinced Steve to do something like that. But it was starting to sound like there was trouble in paradise for the happy couple.

"Sorry, your highness, my Satanic psychic power's on the fritz tonight," he quipped dryly. "So...no, can't say that I do know what Wheeler told you."

Eddie didn't jerk his shoulder out from under Steve's hand--commendable of him, in his humble opinion-- solely because he was pretty sure the guy would topple flat on his face if he did.

Luckily Steve pulled his own hand away, so that he could dramatically throw out his arms. "She said I'm bullshit! She said our love is bullshit, she doesn't fucking love me!"

Whatever small amount was left in his cup came sloshing out onto the kitchen counter, but Steve didn't notice, he was too busy pointing and waving his free hand around.

"Or well she didn't say she didn't love me, but she didn't not...not say...she did?"  Long pause. "Fuck, whatever! Either way she apparently, she apparently thinks our relationship is a sham, but...but like does she even know how much I love her? I stopped being a dick, I picked her over my friends, I-I-I fought a freaking...ceiling teeth monster for her! I coulda fucking left, but noooo I went back into the house to swing a bat at that fucker! And how does she repay me? Hm? By-By jumping on-on Jonathan Byers's dick? Like sure, yeah, I get it, the guy's strong and hot, but...but like what the fuck? So then...so then did she never love me? Any time she said it to my face, was she just lying? Because I loved her! I was gonna marry that girl because I don't...I don't throw 'I love you's around lightly. I say that shit and mean it, but...I guess romance is dead, true love is a lie!"

Eddie blinked in surprise, trying to process the torrential downpour of information that Steve had opened his mouth and unloaded all over him. The bit about fighting a ceiling monster had Eddie side-eying the punch bowl suspiciously, wondering what, exactly, the jungle juice was spiked with, but...the rest of it. Well. The angry, bitter part of Eddie–a big part, if he was being honest–felt vindicated. Fuck Steve and the horse he rode in on, frankly. If he'd gotten his heart broken, well…join the goddamn club. But the small sliver that remained, that had been Steve's friend–a teeny, tiny, fast fading portion–just felt kind of…sorry for him.

"Okay, well…I gotta be honest, man. I really don't know what the fuck you want me , of all people, to say to…any of that.” He shook his head, still trying to deal with the bizarreness of the entire situation. "That bit about love and romance, though. I coulda told you that. That shit is fake as hell, Harrington, always has been. Can't believe you didn't wisen up before now, but I guess I'm not really that surprised."

"Yeahhh." Steve drawled out, somberly agreeing with Eddie. "It's like every time I'm in love something fucks it up. Usually me. Except this time I dunno what I even did wrong! I guess she just never felt the same."

He tipped his cup back for another drink, and then seemed surprised when it was empty. He shook it upside down, but when nothing came out he just tossed the plastic over his shoulder. Then he looked at Eddie again, his eyes re-focusing a bit.

"Hey...hey can I," Steve swayed forward again, putting his hand on Eddie's chest this time, "can I tell you a ssssecret?"

Eddie had to suppress a laugh, bordering on hysterical, at watching Steve just chunk the empty cup away from him. "You know, weirdly, I kinda get the sense you're gonna tell me no matter what I say," he observed dryly. "So...sure. Why the hell not? Lay it on me."

"Okay...okay, but you can't, you can't tell Eddie Munson, that guy hates me."

Eddie started, taken off guard once again. This night was just throwing him curves left and right.

"The way I heard it, you hated him first," he noted quietly.

Eddie felt a twinge of guilt, then, that he was accidentally getting secrets out of Steve when he clearly had no idea who he was talking to. But he was also burning up with curiosity to know what exactly Steve was going to say. That insatiable desire to know won out in the end.

"But, uh...sure. I'll keep your secret. Cross my heart, all that shit."

"Good, good." Steve patted Eddie's chest, and then leaned in to whisper, but not really whisper. His lips briefly, clumsily, brushing Eddie's ear. "I-I kissed him once, and...and I sss-still think bout it."

Steve backed up, even taking a whole step back before stumbling forward again. "E-Even with Nancy! But...but ssshhhh..." he shoved a finger against his own lips, "sshhh issa secret ."

Then he started laughing again, giggling and snorting until he suddenly stopped, looking much more serious. "I...I'm gonna throw up." He glanced at Eddie again. "B-Bye Mr. Solo I...I gotta throw up."

Then Steve, at least with that much self-awareness, staggered off and made it to the backyard before puking his alcohol filled guts out. A few of the other party-goers were disgusted while a few of them laughed, but a large majority just ignored him.

Eddie was left to gape helplessly in his wake. His skin felt too hot from all the places Steve had touched him, and, at this point, the entire kitchen felt too hot, suffocating and stifling, like it was closing in on him. He could feel the phantom of Steve's warm breath still ghosting over his ear, his whispered secret pounding in Eddie's head like he was the one with the hangover coming on. ‘ I kissed him once, and I still think about it.’

"What in the flying fuck was that?" Eddie demanded, voice rough. But there was no one around to answer him.

Chapter Text

Somehow Steve survived his hangover the next day, and even more surprisingly he survived the rest of the year. Monsters galore and other interdimensional nonsense, not to mention all the kids he had to suddenly protect. Yet it didn't stop at just protecting them. For the rest of the school year, and the summer that followed, Steve not only fought off even more monsters - and Russians - with these brats, but he somehow became their full-time babysitter. He was the one they called when they needed a favor, or a ride. They would sometimes even drop by unannounced at his house for snacks and movies. That was something Robin, his new best friend and second gay person he's ever met, would do too.

He had known of Robin Buckley in high school, but it wasn't until they worked together, and then almost died together that actually made them friends. She was someone he never would've seen himself with, but now he couldn't be happier they were a pair. It renewed his faith in soulmates again, even after his crush on her disappeared. He was also thankful to her for answering all his questions about the gay community which...ultimately led to him making some discoveries about himself. That was a whole day filled with eating ice cream and talking well past midnight.

So it happened after three monster attacks that Steve had gotten himself a new group of friends to hang out with. It was just a shame that most of them were under 16, and even the ones who were old enough - Robin and Nancy - didn't drive. So that meant anytime anyone wanted to go somewhere without riding a bike, Steve had to be the chauffeur.

The kids were the main abusers of that privilege. They had him driving, routinely, to their D&D meetings. Too bad the Byers moved away, because then all that nerd stuff just happened in each other's basement. Now though they had joined some 'Hellfire' group that met in the school's theater. So Steve had to pick them all up, listen to them go on and on about their characters and their dungeon master, drop them off, and then pick them up again to listen to more rambling.

Today they were all animatedly bickering about what Lord Drakkonian, or whatever the hell they called their game leader, was going to do to them. Something about a dungeon, and a dragon, or maybe some other fantasy thing Steve wasn't really listening to. He stopped the Beemer outside the back entrance to the school, where the door had been propped open a bit.

"Okay, here we are, you kids call me when you're done. And don't forget the brownies I-" The kids were already filing out, still talking amongst themselves. Steve spoke louder. "Uh, guys? The brownies you begged me to make? Don't forget-!"

It was too late, they were already rushing inside the school, leaving Steve by the sidewalk. With an eye roll he shut off his car and grabbed his own pans out of the passenger side. "Oh sure, fuck me, right? Ask for snacks and then don't even fucking bring 'em in. Entitled little jerks."

But for all his complaining Steve didn't mean a word of it. He babied those kids way too much, but he couldn't help it. So he walked up the sidewalk and shouldered his way into the theater, balancing both pans in his arms. He could see all sorts of colored lights just beyond the curtains, and a glimpse of Lucas sitting at a long table.

"Hey, you little shit-heads forget something? Or did you just want me to walk all the way in here and-" Steve stopped talking when he fully walked into the meeting and saw who else was sitting at the table.

He couldn't remember the names, but he was sure one of them was called 'Gareth'.  Either way he recognized them as friends of Eddie Munson, and it made sense that they were there because sitting at the head of the table in a throne was none other than Eddie Munson himself. Steve hadn't seen or talked to the guy since Freshman year. Maybe briefly Junior year, but he didn't think bullying someone counted.

Steve's mouth flapped open and closed a few times. His face had to be totally red because not only had Steve seemed to walk into something that was off-limits, but Eddie looked so...hot in his element. It was nothing, something Steve had confessed to Robin one night when they were talking about old crushes and 'awakenings' and all that. Apparently Steve never got over his.

"I...I-I..." And now he couldn't even form words, he just stood there.

After that bizarre and frankly baffling encounter with Steve at the Halloween party, Eddie's life resumed pretty much as normal. D&D, band practice, dealing at parties, and trying to scrape by in classes took up the majority of his waking hours, with little fanfare to disrupt his routine. The only real major life occurrence came at the end of the year, when Eddie failed to graduate, which...was a real kick in the nuts, he couldn't lie. But at least people like Steve Harrington had walked the stage and snatched that diploma, which meant Eddie didn't have to worry about dealing with him or his goons' harassment anymore.

Even if Steve had pretty much dropped it after his junior year, his continued downward trajectory in the Hawkins High social hierarchy never really made a comeback after he gave it all up for Nancy Wheeler. In fact, in the months following the aftermath of his and Wheeler's breakup, Steve had become almost something of a loner, toppling well and truly off his throne once and for all. Sure, he still went on dates, continued playing his sports, as far as Eddie could tell, but at school he mostly kept his head down and stayed to himself. ...Not that Eddie had paid attention. 

If he had, and if he'd been a different person, one who wasn't committed to the bit of pretending to be totally unaffected by Steve's continued existence, Eddie might have thought that fallen Steve Harrington had the look of yet another one of his wayward little lost sheepies and adopted him into his flock accordingly. But he wasn't, and he didn't. And so, graduation day signaled that Eddie didn't have to see Steve Harrington ever again, or deal with the confusing storm of feelings his presence always elicited in him.

…Or, so he thought, at least. Because a disruption one perfectly normal afternoon at Hellfire Club shattered that illusion. Eddie was perched on his throne, in the middle of narrating the current epic battle sequence that was taking place between the party and their enemy, the vampire king Lord Drakken. He was so engrossed in the moment, he hardly noticed the ruffling of the stage curtain, not even clocking that they were no longer alone until a clearly irritated voice started speaking. When Eddie looked up, Steve Harrington blinked back at him, two large pans of...something, clutched in each hand.

Around the table, Jeff and Kenny stiffened immediately, both on high alert, while Gareth shot Eddie a confused, startled look. Eddie leapt to his feet, on the defensive. Maybe he was being paranoid, but, with the freshmen seated around the table, if anyone was going to have a target painted on his back, it was going to be Eddie.

"Harrington? Wha--what in the hell are you doing here?!" Eddie demanded, too shocked by the incongruous appearance of Steve in this setting for his usual strategy of 'ignore his existence' to really work. "Cuz I'm pretty sure your license to bully the nerds gets revoked once you're no longer a student, man."

"W-What I'm not...I... Brownies!" Steve had to shake his head, hard, to clear his brain. "W-What I mean is, I baked brownies. For uh, for the kids. Well really everyone because there's certainly enough to go around, and it's too much sugar for three people so everyone can eat them. I even made one pan with nuts and one without because Dustin doesn't like nuts. Which is really lucky because I know you don't like nuts either so it's kind of like I also made that pan for you, and-"

Dustin stood up with an embarrassed groan and took the pans. "Yeah, yeah, snacks we got it. Thank you Steve, you can leave now."

Eddie barely registered what Dustin had said, too busy staring at Steve like he had grown a second head. He didn't even have time to dwell on Steve mentioning Eddie's aversion to nuts--a statement which implied he knew Eddie, and broke all the rules of the game they'd been playing for the past four years--because the wheels in his head were too busy rapidly turning. Puzzle pieces Eddie hadn't realized existed shifted suddenly into place, forming an entirely new image, one he'd never even considered before.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," he waved a hand through the air, "I--fuck, hold on a second. You’re not–-there's no way in hell, you can’t be–-Steve the babysitter is you?!"

Now it was Steve's turn to make a sound of embarrassment as he put a hand over his face before looking at the kids. "Is that what you guys call me?"

Mike didn't even turn around as he muttered. "What else are we supposed to call you? That's all you do."

Steve then managed to look at Eddie again, still feeling butterflies and nerves. "And I guess that makes you Lord Darkon, or the mysterious DM."

Again, it was jarring to look into Steve's eyes after all these years. The last time Eddie'd seen them, they'd been red-rimmed with unshed tears and too much booze. But Steve–Steve wasn't drunk this time. This wasn't the surreality of standing in that kitchen at Tina's Halloween party, and the present situation offered none of the security Eddie had gotten from knowing there was no way in hell Steve would remember the conversation the next morning. The entire thing left Eddie feeling wrong-footed, in part because he was trying to reconcile the tales the boys had regaled them with of their beloved, bad ass babysitter with Mr. Popularity standing before him now. Steve might have dated Nancy Wheeler, but he didn't dare tarnish his reputation by hanging out with D&D geeks, and Eddie couldn't even begin to imagine him ferrying around a whole troop of them that were basically five years his junior, playing the role of some kind of doting den mother. It just didn't make sense.

"Lord Drakken," Eddie corrected flatly. "King of the Vampires. And, yeah, I'm Hellfire's formidable Dungeon Master, equal parts adored and feared. So, his royal highness has entered into my domain bearing…brownies?"

"They're not poisoned, are they?" Jeff asked. The way he eyed the pans warily made it seem like he might not be joking.

"Let's just hope they don't come with a side of milk ," Gareth murmured, the final word coming out sharp as he glared daggers at Steve.

Lucas had already taken a bite by the time Jeff asked about poison, and then he too shot Steve a look.

"No Lucas," Steve answered, "they're not poisoned. If I wanted any of you dead, you know I'd have better ways of doing it. Besides, I would never tarnish the sacred act of baking like that." Then he looked at Eddie, smiling for once. "I uh, took one of those baking classes we talked about."

No. No wrong thing to say, he shouldn't have brought up anything high school related. Especially nothing from that time.

"Sorry, sorry I don't know why I said that." Steve awkwardly waved a hand around, still not sure what to do with them now that they were empty. "And sorry about the uh," he glanced at Gareth, "the milk thing too. That was...that was wrong of me. I was just trying to think of something that wasn't physically painful, but I can see now that that also wasn't a good choice. Nancy was right I uh- By the way N-Nancy and I aren't together anymore. That's kind of old news, but I didn't know if it traveled to your circle yet I um-"

Dustin cleared his throat multiple times until he caught Steve's attention, drawing his fingers across his lips. Steve saw the action, but he didn't shut up, he just changed subjects. "But anyway! Yeah I was just dropping off some baked goods. S-So I hope you guys enjoy your game, what uh, what're you playing tonight?"

Mike covered his face, almost lowering his head to the table in shame. "Steeeve, please just get out of here."

Something inside Eddie’s chest clenched at the mention of the baking class, a reminder of one among dozens of conversations they’d had that weekend he had worked so hard to cast out of his memory. And now Steve was here, smiling at him, bringing it up like…nothing had happened in the intervening period. The whiplash of it made him feel sick.

“Yeah, it felt real fucking harmless when we had to use an entire dispenser of soap to try and get the rank milk smell out of Eddie’s hair,” Gareth said sarcastically, Jeff and Kenny making noises of agreement.

They were just being defensive, appropriately outraged on Eddie’s behalf, but the reminder still made his face flush with embarrassed heat. Eddie just desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“Yeah, I heard you and Wheeler split up,” he muttered, anything to change the subject, even if he sure as shit wasn’t going to explain where he had heard. “Brutal, or whatever. But, uh, to answer your question, we’re…playing D&D,” Eddie gestured around at the table, as though it was self-explanatory, “same as we do every afternoon, Harrington. And, now, thanks to the interruption, we’re kinda running behind schedule. So, you know, since you're not here to reenact any of your greatest lunchtime hits, maybe you could listen to Wheeler Jr., and just…let us get back to it?”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Kenny quipped, sardonic smile bright.

Steve continued to smile and nod for a bit longer until he saw how everyone was staring at him. "Right! Yes, the door. I uh, I should be heading that way now that I've dropped off the snacks and-and everything. Once again I'm uh, sorry about the milk incident. How dair-he or I , I guess, heh. That, that didn't make sense. Anyway I should...I should go. But feel free to call me when you're done."

He realized he'd said that while still looking at Eddie so he quickly looked at the kids for a moment. "You guys! Just call me when you're done, I'll come and get you. But uh, Eddie you can call me too I guess, o-or any of you! Number's still the same."

Seeing how even Lucas was shooing him out Steve finally started to make his way back out the curtains. Except he couldn't find opening on his first, or even third try, but eventually he fought with it enough to get through. "Anyway bye, bye everyone. You all just uh, have a fun game. Slay those dungeons and explore those dragons or whatever! Bye, bye...I'm gonna...bye."

Once outside Steve kicked at the grass and smacked himself in the face. He'd secretly been brainstorming a scenario where he ran into Eddie after all these years, and he'd planned out everything he was going to say in a smooth and eloquent manner that was sure to earn him a third chance. This was the opposite of that. Things could not have gone worse as he made a huge fool of himself. He'd just been so caught off-guard! He wasn't expecting Eddie to be the DM his kids were always ranting and raving about! Although he really should've known, or he should've paid more attention when those nerds talked. Oh he couldn't wait until work tomorrow so he could lament to Robin all his woes.

Watching Steve’s exit certainly didn’t dispel the fever dream quality of his entire surprise guest appearance in their Hellfire Club session. If anything, Eddie was beginning to wonder if he was actually asleep. As soon as Steve finally managed to untangle himself from the stage curtain enough to leave, Gareth’s head swiveled towards Eddie, mouth open like he was about to unleash a barrage of questions.

Eddie held up both hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I don’t fucking know. Let’s just–play the goddamn game, shall we, gentlemen?”

“Jesus, can we?” Jeff asked.

At the same moment, Kenny muttered, “Thank fucking Christ.”

As he began setting things up to launch back into their battle, however, Eddie noticed how the senior members of the Hellfire Club were still eyeballing the brownies anxiously. And Eddie thought he was fucking dramatic. He had no idea what the hell was going on with Steve, but he was positive it didn’t involve poison. Steve wasn’t that Machiavellian, even as a former monarch.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Eddie gestured to Dustin. “Henderson, pass me one of those brownies.”

Before he resumed Lord Drakken’s maniacal, cackling villain monologue, Eddie made a show of taking a big bite. And the worst part was? It was fucking delicious.