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Eddie doesn’t like it when Steve is upset. He just wants that on record. He would prefer it if Steve could feel happy and safe and content all the time.
But–
A sad Steve Harrington is a cuddly Steve Harrington, and Eddie is absolutely weak for that shit.
There’s nothing quite like the days when Steve will come home from a shitty shift at work and immediately sit down with Eddie on the couch and curl into his side, never even bothering to change out of his work clothes. Or the days when Steve has to talk to his parents on the phone, and afterwards he’ll come find Eddie and pull him into a hug that may last minutes or hours while Steve presses his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck and loses himself there.
Or nights like tonight, when Steve comes to bed in an old pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt he’s stolen form Eddie’s side of the dresser and lays down more in the middle of the bed than on his own side, his head practically on Eddie’s pillow.
He’s asking without really asking, but Eddie will never, ever deny him.
He’s quick to roll onto his side, facing Steve and prodding him until he rolls over, too, facing away and allowing himself to be scooted back across the mattress. Eddie gets an arm around his waist and pulls him close, until he’s practically molded to Eddie’s front, chest to back, hips to hips, Eddie’s knees tucked into the bend of Steve’s.
It isn’t that Steve isn’t normally a touchy sort of person; he is. He thrives on physical affection, and Eddie loves to be the one to provide him with it. But there’s something different about it when Steve gets like this, like it isn’t just a want – it’s a need.
He buries himself in Eddie’s presence, curling in close like he can hide away inside of him, like Eddie can keep the world at bay – like Eddie can protect him.
And hell if that isn’t a heady feeling. The thought that Steve, so strong and sure of himself, lets himself be soft around Eddie, will let his armor fall away and let himself be cared for; Eddie can’t say he doesn’t cherish the privilege.
Who protects the protector? Eddie does.
And he takes his responsibilities very seriously, thank you.
He presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck, stroking his thumb against his ribs over the soft fabric of the pilfered t-shirt. He can feel Steve’s chest rise and fall with a sigh.
“Bad day?” Eddie asks softly.
Sometimes Steve wants to talk about it. Sometimes he doesn’t. Eddie always gives him the chance, either way.
Steve shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know. Nothing happened, I just feel… bad.”
He sounds defeated, and Eddie won’t have that.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to know.” He presses another soft kiss to the nape of Steve’s neck. “I’ll make it better.”
“Yeah.” Under the blankets, Steve’s hand finds Eddie’s where it’s draped over his waist and threads their fingers together, squeezing gently. “I know you will.”