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“Would you stop squirming down there? It’s 1 A.M. and I’m getting seasick”.
Steve let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry-”. A loud thunder covered the rest of his words.
“Couldn’t hear, what’d you say?” Eddie asked, letting his head hang from the upper bunk to look in Steve’s direction.
“I said: I can’t sleep because of this stupid thunderstorm” he repeated, as if insomnia was something new for him, when actually Steve could not relax for his life and spent half of each night thinking about God knows what. Eddie picked up on that because his tossing and turning had woken him up every night since the start of the summer, and because he paid more attention than he could admit to his habits and moods. Even in highschool, back when Steve was more handsome than decent, Eddie seemed to notice an awful lot about him. Better not to dwell on it (especially since the kids had gone home for the weekend and they were all alone, at night, an arm's reach away).
The point was: Steve Harrington did not get much sleep in general and Eddie knew, but in weeks had never commented on it. Commenting on it was new.
Underneath him Steve once again changed position.
“God, Harrington, don’t tell me you’re afraid of thunderstorms” Eddie teased as a fond smile formed on his lips. He wanted to act surprised, but it just made perfect sense.
“It’s not like I wet the bed, they just creep me out. I mean, we’re alone inside a little wooden box, in the middle of nowhere. Doesn’t it creep you out?”. Somewhere along Steve lost part of his composure and Eddie decided not to tease anymore. “Fear not, I’m coming down” he said. “There’s no need-” Steve (mildly) protested, when Eddie was already on ground level.
The older boy tried flicking the light switch a couple of times. “Well, fuck, the storm must have messed something up. I’ll have to fix it in the morning”. Steve gulped somewhere in the dark behind him. “There should be a torch under Dustin’s pillow” he suggested.
Eddie went to Henderson’s bunk, but there was no torch. “Only candy wrap here, I’m afraid lightning will be all we get until morning”.
“Mary Magdalene” Steve cried when the wind made the door open and slam. Eddie, just as startled, ran and locked it right away. “We’re not going to survive the night” the other boy stated gravely.
“I swear, you’re more dramatic than me sometimes - Eddie mumbled, back to his bunk- Scoot over, big boy”. It was a crazy thing to say, but he didn’t care because he knew Steve was going to say something like “What the fuck” and they could joke about it later.
Steve didn’t speak a word, though, and obediently moved towards the wall, resting on his stomach. Eddie sat against the head of the bed, which was tiny for the record, and asked himself what kind of idiot he had to be to willingly go head first in a situation like that.
There was an inch between so they didn’t touch, that would have been weird.
Eddie had no reason to keep track, but all the touching that happened in weeks had been accidental, not counting that annoying habit of Steve to put an elbow on his shoulder just to remind him he was taller than him -whatever the fuck that was. (Eddie usually shrugged him off, but Steve kept doing it every time he could, always with that godforsaken smug smile. “Jeez, Munson, you’re difficult”).
Well, that was different, the point was they were not on hugging terms, not even on comforting-hand-to-the-shoulder terms, so what the fuck was Eddie doing there and why the fuck Harrington let him.
“What if lightning hits the cabin?” Steve asked, breaking the silence.
“First of all, this is a wooden cabin, so even if it did you would not die electrocuted. Secondly, it’s far more likely for lightning to hit a tree, and under this much rain it wouldn’t even catch fire. So, we’re safe. You can relax, Steve”.
“Steve?” the other boy asked with a tone Eddie couldn’t quite make out.
“Isn’t that your name? D’you want me to call you Mr. Harrington?” he asked back theatrically.
“Please don’t, that’s my father” was the fretted answer. “You never call me by my first name, that’s all I meant” Steve explained.
Eddie was well aware because it was absolutely deliberate, though he hadn’t expected him to notice. Calling him by his name would have been personal, and Eddie needed to put as much space between them as possible before he catched some serious feelings (the idiot thought, heart pounding in his throat, on Stephen’s fucking bed in the middle of the night). Conversely Steve called him by his first name almost all the time, “Munson” only when he had that smug smile -whatever the fuck that meant.
He opted for a distraction. “Yeah, I know. It’d be weird to call you Harrington while you’re wetting the bed”.
“I said I don’t w-” he was cut short by another loud bang. “It’s okay, Stevie, I wasn’t judging” Eddie taunted. He didn’t even realize he was patting the other boy’s head. He did without thinking, and was already calling himself names when Steve moved an inch closer so that his shoulder was touching Eddie’s leg. Oh. “Could you do that again?” he asked in a neutral tone, like he was asking to pass the salt. Eddie was too stunned to joke about it, so he just did as he was told and began to caress his head as gently as he could.
Steve sighed quietly.
“I actually love thunderstorms” Eddie eventually said to fill the silence.
“Of course you do, so metal to enjoy chaos and loud noises” Steve commented. (Was his tone fond? Was he smiling? Eddie must have been imagining things).
“Oh, shut up. Storms are definitely metal. I mean, I get why they should be scary, and I’m not saying I wouldn’t take a walk in the woods during one, but they sort of calm me down. When I was a kid and saw dark clouds I always hoped it would start raining at night. Best sleep of my life every time”. Why was he yapping about his childhood?
“Griefly sorry about keeping you up, Munson” Steve said cheekily, as he turned on his side to face him. Eddie hadn’t moved his hand and he could swear Steve had pressed his head against it.
“So tonight you’re Steve and I’m Munson, how is that fair?”.
He heard him chuckle. “Didn’t know you minded, d’you want me to call you Edward?”.
“Oh, fuck off” Eddie laughed.
Silence fell for a moment, while the wind roared outside the shaking window. Eddie’s hand steadily in Steve’s hair, Steve’s hand tugging at his shirt. What?. “You should get some sleep, I don’t want you to stay up all night” Steve whispered with less confidence. Was he suggesting… “Be specific, Steve, sleep where?” Eddie asked, finally gaining the upper hand. “I don’t know, Eddie, nevermind” he grunted, but Eddie was already lying down next to him. “Eddie again, how nice”.
The thing about lying down next to him was that he still hadn’t moved his hand from Steve’s hair, and it took him a minute to realize he was practically holding him. At night. In his bed. “God, you’re clingy” Steve said as he brought an arm around Eddie’s ribcage and pressed his face against his chest. “Excuse me, I would be the clingy one?” he exclaimed, offended. He felt Steve smiling. “It’s okay, Eddie, I wasn’t judging”.
“You’re insufferable”.
“Mh, anything else?”.
The amusement in his voice drained whatever smart remark Eddie had prepared. “Fuck off” he blurted out, no real bite to it.
“Clingy and polite” Steve continued.
“Fuck off” he pathetically repeated.
“And creative, almost forgot”.
Eddie, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, was about to shove him off when a lightning bolt fell somewhere near in the woods and the following thunder shook the cabin. “Now, who’s the clingy one, Stevie?” Eddie sneered, biting his lip, because Steve Harrington was holding him tight and it was honestly too good to be true.
From the crook of his neck Steve said something that sounded as polite as he had been a moment before and Eddie just held him back, held him and held him until he felt his shoulder relaxing and his breathing evening. Only when he was sure the other boy fell asleep did he place a light kiss on his forehead. “G’night, Steve”.
“G’night”.
Eddie opened his eyes the moment sunlight reached them from the window. Steve was still asleep in his arms, face hidden, hands gripped around his back. Wild butterflies in his stomach, Eddie smiled to himself and dozed off again.
“MY EYES, MY EYES, MY POOR INNOCENT EYES” was the dramatic yell that woke him up hours later. Small faces were peeping through the stained window glass.
“Fucking Henderson” Steve groaned. He lifted his head a bit towards the window. “Leave us the fuck alone!” he yelled. That was all it took for kids to run off between fake gagging sounds.
Alone again, the two of them, in (metaphorical) broad daylight, Eddie waited for the spell to break. Now Steve was supposed to awkwardly disentangle himself from him, make some comment out of embarrassment and pretend it had all been the queer Freak doing. He knew it was about to happen and braced himself for the inevitable.
But Steve did no such thing. He was looking at him with that smug smile. “‘Morning, Munson”. And Eddie had to look away because he was blushing like an idiot, not a coherent thought in his brain. He checked the time on his cheap looking wrist watch. “God, it’s already 9 A.M.” he gasped in surprise. Steve took a hold of his hand and pulled him down. “Never slept that much in my life” he reckoned, self-satisfied. “Bet a couple more minutes couldn’t hurt”.