Work Text:
It was a gradual thing, his insecurity. For as long as he could remember, Eddie was brash and unapologetically himself, and it never mattered what people said as long as he was being authentic. He didn’t care about being stared at or poked fun of, and he wore the title Freak like a badge of honor.
He supposed being disfigured was a little different. The bats had eaten parts of him, and skin grafts could only do so much. He was used to being treated like shit, but the moment he woke up, it was magnified in the worst ways possible. Nurses grimaced in disgust at his wounds, doctors uncomfortably talked around the fact that he’d have chunks missing from him forever, and even the kids went a little wide-eyed when they visited him at the hospital and saw the extent of the damage. No one was outright mean to him, but that was almost worse.
It was hard not to react to that. In the coming months, he found himself picking out clothing strategically to make sure the worst of it was hidden. He stopped wearing tank tops first. Then, any short sleeve had to be hidden by his jacket. Anything that exposed his midriff began collecting dust in his closet. The summer heat was his worst enemy, but sweating was better than having his scars out for everyone to gawk at. He was doing them a favor. Of course, he couldn’t exactly hide his face, but he wasn’t about to stroll into a beauty store for something to cover it with (though the thought did cross his mind).
Nobody noticed. No one but Steve, who he couldn’t help liking. When they were outside and the heat made him irritable or annoyed, when he was sweating so much that he couldn’t think, Steve was always there to gently usher him inside where the AC was blasting. He never made him feel bad for it, not once, and he never had questions. Almost never, anyway.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Steve eventually asked him. It was one of the hottest days of the year and Eddie had shown up to a swimming get-together in his leather jacket that he refused to take off. In the end, he began feeling faint and Steve practically dragged him inside and forced water down his throat. He had tried not to swoon with the care he was being given.
He attempted to play dumb, if only to avoid the inevitable. “What do you mean?” he asked. People joked that Steve was an airhead, but in reality he was really good at picking up when something was off with someone, so the chances of this being let go were minimal.
Steve huffed at him and put one hand on his hip, the other wildly gesturing at Eddie. “The fucking— the jackets, the long sleeves. I saw you in high school, Eddie, you didn’t always dress this conservative. What gives?”
The metalhead tried to think of some kind of excuse but came up with nothing. Steve would see through any lie he gave, anyway. Instead, he muttered, “I’m doing you a service, dude. You don’t want to see what’s under here.”
“Uh, I have," Steve snarked. “Remember when you were in the hospital and someone had to rotate you so you didn’t get bedsores? Yeah, that was me. And since when are you self conscious?”
“Since I started looking like Freddy Krueger!” Eddie exclaimed, a little louder than he intended. He quickly whipped his head around and checked outside to make sure no one had heard him, but the kids were still playing around in the pool.
The other boy studied him for a moment. Eddie fidgeted slightly at the scrutiny, eyes darting all around, not wanting to hear whatever horseshit his friend was cooking up. Steve didn’t get it. He was good-looking, hell, beautiful, someone Eddie and every other male interested person on the planet wanted to be with. Eddie was Eddie. He didn’t start out as anything extraordinary, and now he was… this.
“Do you really think that?” Steve asked quietly, and for a split second Eddie thought he was responding to his thoughts. Belatedly he realized it was about the comparison to everyone’s favorite sleep demon, which Steve seemed almost hurt by. That didn’t make any sense, because why would he care so much? “God, dude, I’m sorry.”
Eddie grimaced and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m not looking for pity.”
Steve reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He tried not to lean into the touch. “No. I’m not sorry you have scars.” Eddie looked up from where his eyes had dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry you see yourself that way. I don't see you like that, not at all.” Steve sighed and went to remove Eddie’s jacket for him. He protested, of course he did, but the other boy shot him a glare so deadly he dared not resist.
Once the jacket was off he was left in his t-shirt, scarring peeking through on his arms. Before he could even formulate a self deprecating joke, Steve pointed to them. “These? They prove you survived,” he said. “You went through something horrible, man.” An almost lost look came to his expression, as if remembering something, likely quite literally dragging Eddie back from the dead. “Something really, really awful.” He and Steve were almost nose to nose now. “But you survived, and these are part of you now. Whether you like it or not, this is a part of Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson is not fucking ugly.” He gained steam as he spoke, before deflating entirely once he was done.
Eddie didn’t know what to say, a little wide-eyed. He didn’t know where the hell any of that came from but found it extremely attractive. Steve? Sticking up for Eddie against himself? God help him. The man in question seemed to be surprised at himself also, and the spell was broken, a slight flush crossing his cheeks. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head as the silence lingered. “You can do what you want,” Steve continued, a little shyly. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to me, just— You deserve to be having fun in the pool. No one cares about the scars.”
After that, Steve patted him on the back and went back outside, leaving Eddie to make his decision alone. He considered it, that maybe he was building this all up in his head for no reason. After all, he had a lot of downtime in his recovery. Maybe his mind just went haywire when left to its own devices.
In time, things started to change. He couldn’t build the confidence back up with a snap of his fingers, but he consciously did little things to make it easier. He avoided the mirror less, tried not to put much thought into his clothing, and fought the instinct to cover any scars that might show. He remembered Steve’s kind words. They rang truer every day. No one ever said a word about his injuries, and Eddie began to think they never would; that the event of his near death itself was not insignificant, but the damage it did was. Everyone in their group had some kind of impairment, mental or physical, from the Upside Down, not just him, and everyone carried it differently. No one was expected to be okay.
Which was why, later in the summer, Eddie finally did it. They were all gathered around Steve’s pool like always, and at this point no one expected him to get in. The kids got ready to hop in, a couple glances thrown Eddie’s way, and he made a decision. Before the kids even got the chance to touch the water he ripped the band-aid right off, tugging his shirt over his head as fast as he could and yelling “Cannonball!” as he jumped into the pool.
After he surfaced, he made his way to the waist deep side where the kids had all started yelling over each other in delight, fighting over what they should do first now that Eddie was joining them. It made him smile, made him happy that he had made this decision.
Until he looked over at Steve. Steve, who was staring at him. A whole open mouth, wide eyed gape in his direction. How no one else noticed was beyond him. He didn’t even stop when Eddie caught him, because he wasn’t looking in his eyes, he was looking at his body. His scarred figure. The very thing he assured Eddie didn’t matter. Steve was assessing the damage, eyes dragging up and down his torso in what Eddie could only assume was horror. His stomach dropped as his fears became reality, the water suddenly feeling about a hundred degrees too cold.
Dustin looked at Eddie, then to where Steve was standing. “Steve, you should get in too!” he said, not understanding the gravity of what was happening. “Come on, you haven’t been in the pool all summer!”
Steve’s mouth finally closed, and he shook his head as if shaking himself from a daze. “Uh, not today, dude,” he spoke uncomfortably, eyes flicking between Eddie and Dustin, who grumbled about it while Eddie internally broke down. He didn’t even want to get in the pool with him. Was he that disgusted?
It haunted him for weeks. He didn’t leave the trailer. He didn’t go outside, hardly spoke to anyone, even his uncle. At first he made excuses about not feeling well, until he couldn’t handle their knowing tones anymore and just left the phone off the hook. They might have figured out he was lying, but hopefully they would never know why. He didn’t know where he could go from there, frozen in indecision, letting himself rot away while the outside world went on without him. That’s what happened to monsters, right? They didn’t get happy endings.
They didn’t get peace, either, apparently, because someone was pounding on the door. He tried to ignore it, but after a few minutes of incessant knocking he couldn’t take it anymore, whipping the door open, ready to chew out whoever was bothering him, only to be met with Steve, who he kind of never wanted to see again.
“Hey,” Steve said breathlessly, and Eddie tried not to show his displeasure at the boy standing on his doorstep. There was a moment of silence as Eddie really didn’t feel like speaking to him, but Steve was insistent. “Look, I’m not sure what’s been going on but we’re all worried. Everyone’s at my house already and we want you there. Please?” He was using that pleading doe-eyed look, which was not fair whatsoever.
All of the anger he had built up evaporated in an instant, because of course. Of course he was being nice. Even after seeing how awful Eddie looked, he was being kind to him, because that’s just who he was. Steve was planning to bury his discomfort for Eddie’s benefit and never say a word about it. He didn’t know why he expected anything different. Well, now he felt like a jerk.
That must be how he found himself following Steve back to his house, where the rest of the gang were already in the back socializing and swimming. Eddie opted not to explain himself, continuing the excuse that he had been feeling under the weather. He and Steve sat down in lawn chairs next to each other, Steve settling in much more comfortably than Eddie. They both watched the kids splash each other with water and come up with different games to play, all of them competitive, of course. Suddenly, Steve spoke up. “Are you gonna get in the pool with them?” he asked gently, as if the previous event had never happened.
“No,” Eddie said firmly. Part of him wanted to scream that Steve was the one who made him feel the need to cover up again in the first place, but he couldn’t blame him for being grossed out by his appearance, and he was clearly even trying to get over his disgust by suggesting Eddie swim. The fact that he was trying to help almost made him angrier.
Steve frowned. “But—”
“No, Steve,” he harshly interjected, voice a low growl. He stood up, spun around, and marched back inside without another word. He found the living room and started pacing, contemplating leaving then and there without an explanation.
It took less than a minute for Steve to follow, and he sighed as he watched Eddie pace. For a moment they just stared at each other. “Can we just sit and talk for a second, please?” Steve asked.
Eddie nodded. It was going to happen sooner or later, he figured, and despite his instinctive urge to run he knew it was probably best to clear the air before things built up any further. They sat at opposite ends of the couch, Steve facing Eddie, who halfway curled into himself and refused to make eye contact, anxiously biting his nails. Making a mature decision didn’t mean he had to be happy living with it, he reasoned.
“Look,” Steve said. “I’m sorry.”
A snort escaped Eddie before he could stop himself. “Whatever for?” he asked sarcastically, even though he already knew. The least Steve could do was give him the satisfaction of hearing the truth.
It was Steve’s turn to look uneasy. He gulped and turned his head away, speaking his apology toward the open air instead of Eddie. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said. Hesitantly, he turned back to the other with guilt smothering his face. “That’s why you don’t want to get in, right? You’d have to take off your shirt, and I was staring, that first time…” His eyes trailed downward a little, to the metalhead’s shirt, as if he could see the scars through fabric, before flicking back to his face.
It made Eddie squirm. He tried not to be humiliated, really, he did, but this kind of conversation didn’t have any other outcomes. The silence stretched on, and nothing had to be said to communicate that, yes, that was exactly the problem.
“I just couldn’t keep my eyes off you, you know?” At Eddie’s blank look, Steve amended, “Well, obviously you don’t. You’re just so…”
Ugly? Deformed? Unsightly?
“Hot.”
His brain froze, face scrunched up in confusion. What the fuck? He was not comprehending anything at that moment, convinced he must have misheard.
Steve continued, his tone getting a little more desperate. “And I know it must be weird for a guy to have feelings for you, but I’m sure we can work this out. I’ll be better about it—”
“Wait wait wait wait,” Eddie said, holding a hand out to stop the rambling, mind struggling to catch up with the words leaving Steve’s mouth. It was becoming increasingly clear that they were having two different conversations. “Back up. What?”
Steve paused at that, seeming a little confused. “Um. Where exactly did I lose you?”
Finally, Eddie’s brain put the puzzle pieces together. Feelings. Staring. Hot. That last word played on a loop in his head, as if repeating it enough times would make it make sense. It didn’t. He gaped in surprise. “You were staring because— because you thought I was hot?" No, it was impossible, because that would mean that all of his convictions were wrong, and that couldn’t be.
Steve cocked his head. “Yeah? Of course. I should’ve thought it through, though.” Clearly embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “Obviously you wouldn’t want some guy eye fucking you and I chased you into hiding and I’m just… I’m sorry.”
The real truth hit Eddie as subtly as a brick to the head. “Harrington. Steve.” He let out a hysterical laugh and crawled across the couch toward the other boy so he could grab him by both shoulders and just shake him, because Eddie was a maniac and he absolutely needed Steve to know that this was the best possible case-scenario. “I thought you were staring because you realized my scars are no joke.”
Steve’s head shot up so fast it must have made his neck hurt, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Dude, we fully established that that doesn’t matter to me!”
He supposed that was a good point, but he stood his ground. “Well saying it is one thing,” Eddie reasoned, “but I thought maybe you saw the extent of it and got grossed out?” His sentence became a question at the end as he verbalized his thought process, which seemed less and less logical by the second.
The disbelief grew wider on Steve’s face, somehow. “You so have trust issues,” he said flatly, his bitchiness returning now that he knew he wasn’t in trouble, and he scoffed at Eddie’s shrug. A calculated look crossed his face, and he studied Eddie for a second. “Come with me,” he beckoned, standing and leading him upstairs to his room.
Once there, Eddie took a moment to look around. It was horribly plain save for a board filled with pictures he had with the kids, and the design was god-awful. He chose to believe it was the Harrington seniors that picked it out, if only for his own sanity. When his attention was drawn back to Steve, there was that same odd look on his face, as if willing Eddie to understand something.
“Look. I have scars too.” Slowly, Steve lifted the hem of his shirt. Sure enough, there were scars all over his abdomen from his own bat bites. Eddie kind of felt like an idiot, because of course Steve personally knew an inkling of what Eddie was feeling, but he insisted that it wasn’t the same. “My bites were all over for me, man. Not just my torso. My arms, my chest, my—” he gestured to himself, “My fucking face! It’s different when…” He trailed off as Steve’s face became set with determination, and he suddenly started removing his shirt, lightly tossing it on the ground next to him. “What…”
Slowly, Steve turned around, and Eddie was met with the worst case of road rash he’d ever seen in his life. Almost the entirety of the boy’s back was mangled and uneven, some patches of skin pink and shiny with scar tissue while others were darker and rough looking. “Jesus,” Eddie whispered, resisting the urge to reach out. “When did this happen?”
“When I got pulled into the Upside Down through Lovers’ Lake,” Steve began quietly. “I got dragged all the way from the portal to where you found me.”
Eddie thought about it. Once he did, he realized it must have been several feet of the other boy’s back being shredded by the Upside Down’s rough terrain. Not to mention the places where it looked like small debris and rocks had gotten embedded in his skin, leaving indents in their wake.
Suddenly, he got it. He understood why Steve had dragged him up there, and like always, he admired his bravery. Belatedly, he realized that Steve must have been hiding his injuries too. He never took his shirt off either. The pep talk made a whole lot more sense, now. “We’re the same,” he whispered. All at once, it was like he could breathe again, unburdened by the solitary feeling that had plagued him since he first woke up with his injuries.
“Yeah”, Steve replied. “We are.” He turned back around and took a step closer to Eddie, intense eyes roaming the other’s face. “So about that crush thing…”
Eddie all but jumped him, grabbing Steve by the face with both hands and crushing their lips together. He felt ravenous, but as the shirtless boy ran a tender hand down the scar on his face he let the tension bleed out of him, arms lowering around Steve’s neck as they kissed.
He didn’t know how long they stood there in each others’ arms, holding one another’s hurt in their palms with the promise of keeping it safe, but before long, Steve leaned back, cupping Eddie’s face in his hands like he was something precious. “I think we have a party to get back to,” he murmured, and Eddie nodded, pausing to plant a kiss on the back of Steve’s scarred shoulder as they left the room. He’d never felt more alive.
They faced the pool hand in hand.