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The tiled walls of the Hawkins High boys' bathroom were sweating, much like Steve Harrington was. It was 1989, the air was thick with the scent of cheap hairspray and graduation floor wax, and Steve currently had his back pressed against a cold metal stall door while Eddie Munson attempted to devour his neck.
"Eddie, seriously," Steve gasped, his hands fumbling to find purchase on the leather of Eddie's jacket. "We can't do this. The kids... they're graduating. Any minute now. We have to be out there."
"Mhm," Eddie hummed against Steve's skin, his rings cold where they grazed Steve's jaw.
He didn't slow down, his hands sliding under Steve's blazer.
"Eddie, the kids are graduating—"
"Uh-huh," Eddie muttered, his teeth catching on Steve's earlobe.
"Eddie, the kids—fuck," Steve groaned, his head hitting the door with a dull thud as his resolve crumbled.
Suddenly, the heavy exterior door creaked open, followed by the sound of muffled giggling. Steve froze, his eyes widening.
"Oh shit," he whispered. "Who's that?"
Eddie paused, tilting his head.
The voices were higher than expected for the boys' room. "Is that... girls?!"
"Shhh!" Steve hissed, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Both men leaned forward, squinting through the narrow vertical crack of the stall door.
Steve's jaw nearly hit the floor.
In the center of the room, Nancy was pressed firmly against the sinks, her hands tangled in Robins hair.
They weren't just talking; they were midway through a very enthusiastic make-out session.
Eddie's eyes went dinner-plate wide. "Holy fuck, it's Nancy and Robin."
"What part of shh do you not understand?!" Steve mouthed frantically, swatting at Eddie's arm.
Outside, the girls jumped.
Nancy pulled back, her chest heaving, eyes darting toward the stalls. "Did you hear that?"
Robin blinked, looking dazed and slightly disheveled. "It was probably someone in the halls. Sound carries in this dump."
She grabbed Nancy's hand, pulling her toward the stall furthest from Steve and Eddie. "Come on."
Steve and Eddie watched in stunned silence as the two women disappeared into the neighboring stall.
Steve turned to Eddie, his face a mask of shock.
Before he could whisper a word, the main door swung open again.
footsteps echoed on the tile. Male voices this time.
"It got crowded in here fast," Eddie whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Steve glared at him with enough heat to melt steel, miming a "zip-it" motion over his lips.
"You think anyone knows?" Mikes voice was uncharacteristically soft, laced with a nervous tremor.
"No," Will replied, his tone steady but quiet. "How could they? Everyone's distracted by the ceremony."
"Okay," Mike breathed out. "But we have to be quick."
Through the crack in the door, Steve and Eddie watched as Mike reached out, cupping Will's face with a tenderness that made Steve's brain short-circuit.
When they started kissing, Eddie leaned back, looking entirely too delighted by the chaos.
"Well would you look at that," Eddie whispered, leaning into Steve's personal space. "Lots of gay to go around."
Steve, panicked and desperate to stop Eddie from blowing their cover, shoved his elbow back to nudge Eddie into silence.
He overcompensated. His heel slipped on the slick tile, and both men slammed hard into the stall door.
The latch—old, rusted, and never meant to hold the weight of two grown men—snapped.
The door flew open with a violent bang.
Steve and Eddie tumbled out.
Steve landed face-first, feeling his mortification deep in his soul. Eddie, ever the performer, managed to roll onto his back, looking more amused than scared.
Mike and Will scrambled apart, Mike looking like he'd seen a ghost. "Holy shit! Were you two—"
Will's eyes darted from Steve to Eddie, then back to Mike.
He grinned. "Nice. Oh wait, fuck." The realization of their own position seemed to hit him like a freight train.
Steve scrambled to his feet, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled a tomato.
He started bumbling, his hands waving aimlessly. "Eddie and I... we were just, uh... Preparing a speech! Together! For the... alumni association. That's all. Just practicing!"
Eddie snickered, dusting off his leather jacket as he stood. "Hell of a speech, Stevie. Very persuasive."
In his rush to look busy, Steve stumbled backward, his foot catching on Mike's sneaker.
He went flying again, this time colliding full-force with the door of the stall where Nancy and Robin were hiding.
The door swung inward.
A synchronized scream erupted from the girls as they were suddenly exposed to the entire room.
Steve looked at the six-way standoff—Nancy and Robin, Mike and Will, himself and Eddie.
"Oh fuck," Steve whispered. "Oh shit. Uhhhhhh. Gotta go!"
He bolted for the exit.
"Steve! Get back here!" Robin yelled, her voice cracking in a mix of shock and fury.
Eddie let out a loud, hysterical cackle. "Long live the gay revolution! Later, nerds!" he shouted, effortlessly vaulting over a stunned Mike and sprinting out the door after Steve.
Steve skidded to a halt two hallways away, his chest heaving as he leaned his forehead against a cold locker. He was vibrating with pure, unadulterated mortification. A second later, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of combat boots echoed down the hall, followed by a sound that made Steve want to dissolve into the floorboards: Eddie Munson's laughter.
"Why are you laughing!" Steve wheezed, spinning around to face him. His hair, usually a structural masterpiece, was starting to deflate from the stress. "They know, Eddie! They know! We are outed! To the children! To my ex-girlfriend!"
Eddie leaned against the opposite wall, clutching his stomach, his shoulders still shaking. "Yeah, Harrington, they know. But didn't you catch the scenery? We now know that apparently Robin and Nancy, and Will and Mike, are their own little 'secret' things, too." He held up his hands, wiggling his rings. "It's a literal miracle. The Hawkins High bathroom is officially a portal to Narnia, but, you know... gayer."
Steve let out a high-pitched whine, sliding down the lockers until he was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. "God, this is worse than the time I was fourteen and my fever spiked to 104. I started hallucinating that Matt Dillon was leaning over my bed flirting with me, but it ended up being the family chef offering me tomato soup."
Eddie paused, his smirk shifting into something intrigued. "Matt Dillon? Really? Huh." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, yeah. That tracks."
"Not the point!" Steve snapped, though his face somehow got even redder. "How are we supposed to go out there now? The ceremony is starting!"
He stood up abruptly and started pacing the narrow hallway, his hands flying everywhere. "And the after-party! Oh god, Eddie, the after-party. How are we going to survive? We all know things we should not know! It's like a Mexican standoff, but with... with feelings and social suicide!"
Eddie's amusement finally started to flicker.
He stepped into Steve's personal space, grabbing him by the shoulders to halt the frantic pacing.
"Okay, breathe, Big Boy," Eddie said, his voice dropping an octave, though he still had that manic glint in his eyes. "You're getting twitchy. And your freaking out is officially starting to freak me out, and I'm the one who usually handles the existential dread in this relationship."
Steve looked at him, wide-eyed. "What do we do? Do we ignore it? Do we acknowledge it? Do we form a secret society?"
Eddie rolled his eyes, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know what? You're right. This is a disaster. We should absolutely run away. Right now. Just say 'see ya, Hawkins,' hop in the van, and hit the road. We can be in the next state by the time they're tossing their caps."
Steve let out a frustrated huff and whacked Eddie's arm. "Very funny! That's your escape plan no matter what the situation is. Demogorgons? Run away. High school graduation? Run away. Mild social awkwardness? Drive the van into the sunset."
Eddie's expression softened for a split second, his gaze dropping to Steve's shoes before flicking back up. "Hey, we both know you're the only reason I stayed in this hellhole, so... the offer stands."
Steve sighed, rubbing his temples as if he could physically push the memories of the last five minutes out of his brain. "I'm being serious, Eddie. We need to unlearn everything we just learned. Total amnesia. We need to make sure they all unlearn it, too. Maybe we can convince them it was a collective hallucination caused by the floor wax fumes."
Eddie let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Yeah, you sure you don't have a fever now? Because that's not going to happen, Stevie. You can't 'Jedi Mind Trick' four peoole."
He reached out, grabbing the lapels of Steve's blazer and tugging him forward until their chests brushed.
"Look, they're probably just as wigged out as you are right now. Everyone in that bathroom has a secret to keep. It's like a mutual assured destruction pact."
Steve chewed his lip, looking unconvinced.
"Now," Eddie continued, smoothing out the fabric of Steve's shoulders with his rings clicking against the buttons.
"Straighten out that blazer. Put on your good ol' 'I'm cool as hell' Steve Harrington face. We're going to walk out there, sit in the crowd like the proud, older-brother-figures we are, and watch those kids graduate. We'll deal with the inevitable social explosion later at the after-party."
Steve took a shaky breath, adjusting his collar. "The after-party is going to be a nightmare. I can already feel the awkward eye contact."
"Oh, it's going to be a goddamn catastrophe," Eddie agreed cheerfully.
Steve glared. "Stop smiling." He whacked Eddie in the arm again. "And take a separate exit." He waved a hand down the hall.
"Aw come on, majority now knows. Maybe this is our time to shine and we can skip out hand in hand." Eddie grinned.
Steve glared again and pointed down the hall, but his lips still twitched in the corners as he fought a smile.
"Fine," Eddie let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. "But we are finishing that stall business later tonight, mark mu words." He held a finger to the sky, already marching on the opposite direction.
Steve laughed, and then he groaned.
This was not how he wanted anyone to find out about him and Eddie's secret relationship.
Then again... he wasn't expecting Nancy and Robin as a paring, or Mike and Will.
This was one giant mess and he hadn't a clue how to handle it.
He drew in a slow breath, held it, half way hoped he'd pass out and never have to face anyone ever again... when that didn't happen, he exhaled.
"Fuck my life."
***************************
Steve sat on the jammed, sun-baked bleachers, the wood groaning with the restless energy of parents and friends waiting for the graduation commence. Beside him, Robin was a ball of nervous kinetic energy. Her hair was unusually frayed, and one buckle of her overalls hung unclipped, swaying like a loose shutter in a storm.
He tried not to look at it. If he looked at it, he had to think about why it was unclipped, and his brain was already at maximum capacity.
Staring straight ahead, Steve focused on the sea of orange robes on the grass.
The graduates were lining up beside the makeshift stage, his gaze locked onto Mike and Will; they were laughing together, looking for all the world like normal teenagers. Beside them, Dustin, Lucas, and Max were joking around, blissfully unaware of the cinematic level of drama that had just unfolded in the boys' room.
Steve leaned slightly to his left, peering past Robin toward the Wheeler family.
Nancy sat between her parents, looking poised, professional, and entirely untouchable—the quintessential "Girl Most Likely to Succeed."
Not a hair was out of place.
No one would know what he had just witnessed with her and Robin in the bathroom either.
"So... you and Eddie, huh?"
Robin's voice was a dry rasp.
She didn't look at him; she just clapped her hands together in a slow, rhythmic, agonizingly nervous beat.
Steve kept his eyes glued to the stage, his collar feeling three sizes too small. "So... you and Nancy, huh?" he shot back, his voice low and tight.
Robin clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a sharp, cynical sound. "Touché."
She gave a short, jerky nod. "I've decided I don't like this game anymore. Let's never play it again."
Steve couldn't help it; a short, jagged snort escaped his lips. "Agreed."
"Where is Eddie, anyway?" Robin's head whipped left and right, her eyes scanning the rows of parents and alumni like a radar dish. "Not because I'm trying to meddle or anything... just thought he'd be here to watch Dustin give his speech. He's been bragging about that kid's GPA for three months."
Steve mirrored her, his heart doing a slow, heavy roll in his chest. He looked at the rows in front of him, then craned his neck to check the ones behind. No wild mane of dark curls. No obnoxious grin.
"I don't know," Steve said, the cool facade cracking to reveal an edge of worry. "He wouldn't miss this. He couldn't miss this."
He scanned the crowd one more time, desperation creeping into his eyes. He looked for that familiar leather jacket, for the way Eddie always seemed to take up more space than he actually occupied.
Nothing.
Robin gave a small, half-hearted shrug, though her foot was tapping a mile a minute. "Maybe he's hiding under the bleachers for old times' sake," she joked, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
Steve shot her a look before shaking his head and turning back to the front.
The principal and the faculty were taking their seats on the stage, the microphone feedback emitting a shrill whine that set his teeth on edge.
"Hope he shows up soon," Steve mumbled. "Looks like it's about to start."
He tried to focus on the kids.
He tried to be the proud mom of the group.
But his internal compass was spinning wildly, pointed directly toward the empty space where Eddie was supposed to be.
One by one, the names were called. Mike walked with a stiff, nervous pride; Will accepted his with a quiet, genuine smile; Lucas and Max followed, both looking like they’d survived a war just to reach this stage.
Steve watched them, his chest tight with a fierce, protective ache. They had made it. Despite everything under the soil of this town, they were standing in the sunlight.
Finally, Dustin stepped up to the podium.
He looked confident behind the microphone, his valedictorian medal catching the harsh afternoon sun.
He cleared his throat, the feedback ringing through the quiet field.
"This school needed change," Dustin began, his voice surprisingly steady. "I spent a long time being angry. I wanted a normal childhood, but that was stolen from me. It was stolen from all of us. And if you want the truth, I spent most of this year pretty pissed off about it."
A murmur ran through the crowd of parents.
Steve leaned forward, his heart hammering.
"But then I thought back on the last six years," Dustin continued, "and I realized that even though there was a lot of bad, there was so much good, too. In Dungeons & Dragons, there are different types of chaos. There’s Chaotic Evil—which brings anarchy and destruction. But then, there’s Chaotic Good. That’s the kind of chaos that brings innovation. It breaks down walls."
He looked toward his friends, then out at the crowd. "We were divided. Jocks, nerds, freaks. But in the chaos of the last few years, those walls broke down. I made friends who weren't supposed to be my friends. And I’ve seen the same happen with others too. And when you get to know people who are different from you, you learn who you really are. I’m a better person because of them. So, I’m not pissed anymore. But I am worried."
Dustin’s gaze flicked toward Principal Higgins.
“I’m worried that now that the chaos is over, the people in charge are going to do their damnedest to put everything back into boxes. To bring back order. Well, I don’t want their order. I mean, look at us. We look ridiculous. We look like Roman senators. This isn't who I am. I don't think it's who any of us are."
He reached for his collar. "So, honestly? Screw it."
With a defiant grin, Dustin ripped off his orange graduation robe.
Underneath, he wasn't wearing a dress shirt. He was wearing a, deep-blue t-shirt with his own take on the hellfire logo that read: HELLFIRE LIVES.
Before the gasps from the faculty could turn into protests, a wall of sound hit the bleachers.
The heavy, distorted crunch of an electric guitar tore through the air.
Steve’s head whipped toward the side of the stage.
There, standing atop a stack of speakers that definitely hadn't been there ten minutes ago, was Eddie.
Eddie was a vision of rebellion.
He was wearing his original, now frayed Hellfire shirt, his hair catching the wind like a dark halo. He swung his guitar—the warlock—around and leaned into the opening riff of Manowar’s "Die For Metal."
The heavy, rhythmic beat began to pulse through the football field.
The crowd was in a state of absolute shock, but the graduates? The graduates were electric. Mike and Will were on their feet, punching the air; Lucas and Max were screaming with laughter.
Steve felt a grin break across his face so wide it actually hurt. He looked at Robin, who was screaming with excitement, then back to the stage. Eddie was shredding, his fingers flying across the frets with a manic, joyful precision.
He caught Steve’s eye from across the field and winked, a wild, triumphant expression on his face.
Eddie wasn’t just playing; he was performing an exorcism. Every chord of "Die For Metal" was a middle finger to the years of being called a failure, a freak, and a murderer. He paced the edge of the stage like a caged predator finally let loose, his boots stomping in time with the driving bass.
Dustin didn’t wait for an invitation. He marched right up to Principal Higgins, who looked like he was having a slow-motion heart attack, and snatched his diploma out of the man’s trembling hand.
Dustin didn't shake it.
He didn't thank him.
Instead, he leaned into the microphone, his grin sharp and dangerous.
"I believe," Dustin shouted over the roar of the guitar, "that a certain member of the Class of '86 has a few words he never got to say."
Eddie killed the volume on his guitar just enough for his voice to carry, though the feedback still hummed like a live wire. He stepped down from the speakers, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Dustin.
"You know, Higgins," Eddie began, his voice dripping with a mock-sweetness that quickly turned to venom. "I sat in those halls for a long time. I was the repeat offender. The ghost in the machine. When I finally graduated in '86, you didn't let me walk this stage. You didn't want the freak tainting your precious ceremony."
He swept a hand out toward the graduates. Mike, Will, Lucas, Max—they were all standing now, a wall of orange robes and defiant eyes.
"But look at them!" Eddie’s voice rose to a theatrical bellow.
“They aren't your cookie-cutter assembly line. They’re weird, they’re loud, and they’ve seen things you couldn't handle in your worst nightmares. You tried to build walls between them, but the walls fell down, and look who’s left standing looking as pathetic as ever! How does it feel to know you lost? Fuck Hawkins High, and Higgins? Fuck you."
The silence that followed lasted exactly one second before Dustin leaned in and added his own punctuation.
"What he said."
Simultaneously, the two of them raised their hands, middle fingers held high and proud toward the faculty table.
"We are the school!" Dustin screamed, the adrenaline finally taking over. "Screw the system! Screw conformity! Screw everyone trying to hold us back and tear us apart, because this—this is our year!"
He slammed his hand onto Eddie's shoulder, the two of them looking like the leaders of a revolution.
In the bleachers, Steve was paralyzed for a heartbeat.
His brain was screaming Property Damage! Public Indecency! Social Suicide! But his heart was soaring.
He saw Robin beside him, screaming at the top of her lungs, and he saw the sheer joy on the kids' faces.
Steve stood up, cupped his hands around his mouth, and let out a roar of approval that drowned out his own common sense. "THAT’S MY BOYS!" he yelled, jumping onto the wooden seat.
"EVERYBODY!" Eddie shrieked, hitting the power chord again. "SING IT!"
The chorus of the song became a chant, a thousand voices—some confused, but most triumphant—joining the rhythm. Just as the song hit its peak, Eric’s, perched on the scaffolding behind the stage, yanked a heavy rope.
POP.
A massive, homemade confetti machine exploded.
Thousands of strips of white and orange paper rained down over the field, swirling in the wind like a localized blizzard.
Through the chaos of paper and music, Steve locked eyes with Eddie.
Eddie was laughing, sweating, and looking more alive than Steve had ever seen him.
Robin turned to Steve, her eyes bright with a manic, terrifying clarity. "So, what’s the move, Dingus?" she shouted over the music. "You gonna go up there and give conformity and this town a 'fuck you' too? Show them what Steve Harrington is really all about? Be the gay and bi icons this hellhole never asked for?”
Steve’s heart was trying to kick its way out of his ribs.
He looked at the stage—at Eddie, who looked like a god of thunder in a leather jacket—and then back at Robin.
“I don't know," he panted, his voice trembling. "You gonna go do that with Nancy too?"
Robin’s expression shifted, the bravado softening into a raw, honest challenge. "If you take the plunge... I take the plunge. Deal?"
Steve looked at his hands, then clenched them into fists.
He thought about the bathroom stall.
He thought about years of hiding behind hairspray and a King Steve persona that felt like a suit of armor three sizes too small.
He looked at Eddie and felt a sudden, sharp pull in his chest.
"Okay," Steve nodded, a grim, beautiful determination settling over him. "Guess it’s time to be scared shitless while not being scared anymore."
They parted like two soldiers heading into different sectors of the same battle.
Robin scrambled toward the Wheeler section, weaving through the stunned parents.
Steve didn't watch her; he leaped over the bleacher railing and sprinted toward the stage.
Dustin saw him coming and his brow furrowed in total confusion.
Eddie, still playing the song, slowed his hands on the strings, his eyes widening as Steve vaulted onto the stage.
"Steve? What are you—"
Steve didn't give him the chance to finish.
He was terrified, his knees felt like jelly, but he didn't care.
He grabbed Eddie by the face, his fingers tangling in those wild curls, and pulled him down into a hard, desperate, undeniable kiss.
The feedback from the guitar wailed, a high-pitched scream that punctuated the moment.
For a second, the world stopped.
Then, the explosion happened.
"NOW THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!" Dustin shrieked, throwing his cap into the air and jumping with glee.
Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max were howling, a chorus of "woos" and cheers that seemed to validate every secret they’d ever kept.
In the bleachers, Robin reached Nancy.
She didn't say a word.
She just looked at her, and Nancy, with a defiant glance toward her mother, grabbed Robin’s overall straps and pulled her in.
They crashed together, a messy, glorious kiss right in the middle of the perfect Wheeler family.
Mike and Will caught the sight from the corner of their eyes.
They looked at each other amidst the falling orange paper. The fear was there, but the permission was louder.
"Screw it," Mike mouthed.
He grabbed Will’s waist and pulled him in, their robes fluttering as they too finally stopped pretending.
Dustin, Max, and Lucas were swiveling back and forth like they were watching the world’s most chaotic tennis match.
"Steve and Eddie? Wait—Nancy too?!" Lucas yelled, pointing toward the grass where Robin and Nancy were still locked in a defiant embrace.
"And Mike and Will?!" Max shrieked, a huge, disbelieving grin breaking across her face. "Since when?! How did we miss all of this?"
Dustin looked like his brain had finally short-circuited from pure joy. "I don't know, and I don't care! The revolution is being televised!" He pointed a finger to Jonathan who had the oversized camera.
On stage, Steve finally pulled back from Eddie, both of them breathless. Steve’s hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and for the first time in his life, he didn't feel the need to check if he looked cool. He just felt right.
Eddie was staring at him with a look of stunned adoration, his guitar still humming a low, vibrating growl against his hip.
“Holy fuck," he breathed, "you really are full of surprises."
Before Steve could answer, Dustin threw himself at them.
Steve and Eddie reached out simultaneously, catching the kid and pulling him into a massive, crushing group hug. Dustin was cackling, squished between Steve’s blazer and Eddie’s leather.
Below them, the energy was infectious.
It was like a dam had broken. Seeing the former King of Hawkins High and the Town Freak" bridge the gap—along with the perfect Nancy Wheeler and the boys of the Party—gave everyone else the green light.
All over the field, graduates were screaming, hugging, and kissing the people they’d been told were off-limits for years.
The walls of the cliques hadn't just cracked; they had evaporated into the orange-tinted air.
In the middle of the chaos stood Principal Higgins.
He was red-faced, frantically yelling out who-knows-what that no one could hear over the Manowar track still blasting from the speakers.
"STAY IN YOUR ROWS!" Higgins screamed, waving his arms like a panicked flight controller. "DECORUM! I DEMAND DECORUM! THIS IS A FORMAL—"
A stray graduation cap sailed through the air and knocked him square in the jaw.
A group of theater kids danced past him, throwing handfuls of orange confetti into his face.
He was completely invisible, a relic of an old world that no longer had any power over them.
Eddie looked down at the struggling principal, then back at Steve and Dustin.
He reached over and flipped the volume knob on his guitar back to ten.
"Hey, Higgins!" Eddie yelled, striking a final, earth-shaking power chord that vibrated through the man's very shoes. "Class is dismissed!"
With one last roar of the crowd, the graduates began to surge toward the parking lot, leaving the robes and the order of Hawkins High behind them in the dirt.
Steve stood at the edge of the stage, looking out at a sight he never thought possible in this town.
The rigid, suffocating social hierarchy of Hawkins High was collapsing in real-time. It was beautiful: Goths were laughing with nerds; cheerleaders were trading high-fives with theater kids; members of the varsity basketball team were helping freaks tear off their robes.
Hawkins had changed.
The air felt lighter, the shadows of the past few years finally being chased away by the sheer volume of their collective voices.
Steve realized, with a lump in his throat, that none of this would have happened if his friends hadn't fought for it—if they hadn't broken the molds and written their own rules.
And he knew, looking at the man beside him, that the first big crack in that wall had been pushed by Eddie Munson back in '86.
Eddie slung his guitar over his back, his eyes bright with tears he’d never admit to, and hopped off the stage with Steve and Dustin right behind him.
They were immediately swarmed.
"That was insane!" Robin shrieked, sprinting into the group and nearly tackling Steve and Eddie at once.
Nancy followed close behind, her face glowing with a triumphant, rebellious heat Steve had only ever seen when she was holding a shotgun.
She didn't look back at her parents; she only had eyes for the group.
Then came the rest.
Mike and Will, still holding hands with a quiet, newfound strength; Lucas and Max, the latter leaning heavily on Lucas but grinning wide enough to reveal every tooth; and Jonathan, who had emerged from the crowd with a shell-shocked pride for his younger brother.
They formed a tight, chaotic circle in the middle of the field while the rest of the school rioted around them.
It was a huddle of survivors, freaks, and former kings.
Mike just stood there, looking at the confetti stuck to his orange robe, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. "Holy shit," he muttered, the reality of the last ten minutes finally hitting him. "We’re actually graduating. And we’re... we’re not dead."
"And we’re not in the closet," Will added softly, though he was grinning so hard it looked like it hurt.
Eddie let out a sharp bark of a laugh, his arm heavy and warm across Steve’s shoulders as he hauled Dustin into a headlock with his free hand.
He looked around at the wreckage of the ceremony… the stunned parents, the fleeing principal, and the kids finally acting like people instead of social projects.
"Better than that, Byers," Eddie said, his voice rough and triumphant. "We’re the reason this place is never gonna be the same. Look at 'em. It’s a goddamn riot."
Steve felt the weight of Eddie against him and the summer breeze on his face, and for once, his head was quiet. No monsters, no upside-down, no pretending to be the guy everyone expected him to be.
He just looked at his friends… the weird, broken, brave
family he’d ended up with and felt the sun on his skin.
"Let's get out of here," Steve said, his voice finally steady. "Before Higgins finds a megaphone that actually works."
“To the after party!” Robin cheered, hands up in the air.
Quickly, the groups voices rang in agreement in unison.
The group began trailing to the parking lot, joined by their parents that were mostly, and surprisingly, loudly approving. Watching the way their kids broke the norms and became who they wanted to be? Unlike their parents before them.
Steve was about to walk off to join the others when Eddie lightly rugged the sleeve of his blazer.
“Hang on one second,” Eddie said, unplugging his guitar as the music was cut, leaving the field feeling weirdly silent.
Steve tilted his head as he slowly followed Eddie around the stage where the amp, and back track had been set up.
There sat Erica, laughing to herself as she tossed a few stray pieces of confetti in the air.
Steve stayed a few steps behind as Eddie approached her.
“Lady applejack,” Eddie bowed before Erica. “I believe I owe you twenty for your help and genius.” He dug into his pocket and held up a crumpled bill.
Erica stood up, she was older now too. She’d be starting at Hawkins High come September, her freshmen year.
“Save it.” She held a hand up. “Just promise me if this whole thing blows up in my face come September, you and boy genius will be here to tell principal Higgins that I was merely peer pressured and it’s a coincidence that I’m the one taking over hellfire.”
Steve listened with a warm smile on his face, leaning against the back of the stage.
“Cross my heart.” Eddie said without an edge of humor, a hand placed firmly over his heart.
Erica nodded, then looked him up and down. “You know, you’re not too bad for a nerd.” She said with her usual flair, but this time it was said with a smile.
“Yeah, same for you.” Eddie chuckled, giving her a pat on the shoulder as Lucas called out for her from the parking lot.
“Duty calls.” Erica said with a sigh, as if she knew she was next in line to keep Hawkins from reverting back to how it was in ‘86.
Steve walked up beside Eddie as Erica headed off. “You gave her hellfire?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Eddie shrugged. “Technically Dustin did.” He said. “But it’s in good hands,” he flashed Steve a soft grin. “If anyone can continue to show Hawkins to take a stand, and to just be yourself, it’s her.”
He then turned to Steve fully. “And you, apparently.”
Steve laughed as Eddie pulled him in by the hips, a bashful smile taking over his face. “Me?” His voice cracked which was incredibly embarrassing for someone his age.
Eddie leaned in closer, his thumb hooking into the belt loop of Steve’s trousers, pulling him into that small, private bubble they’d been building for over three years.
"Yeah, you," Eddie said, his voice dropping into that low, earnest tone that always made Steve’s stomach do a slow roll. "Do you have any idea the precedent you just set? The sheer amount of lives and views you just shifted in ten seconds?"
Steve looked away, his ears turning pink. "I was just... I was tired of hiding, Ed’s."
"Babe, look at me," Eddie insisted, nudging Steve’s chin up until their eyes met. "You’re Steve fucking Harrington. You were the King of this school, the blueprint for every jock and kid who aspired to be normal in this county. And you just hopped on stage to kiss a guy like me? You saw what happened. You saw Robin and Nancy. You saw Mike and Will. You saw all those other kids—the ones who finally felt like they could breathe because you were the one to take that massive, terrifying first step."
Eddie let out a short, amazed breath, shaking his head.
"You dismantled the whole fucking system. You made it safe. You made it okay for people to just... exist. All because you decided you were done hiding."
Steve leaned his forehead against Eddie's, the adrenaline finally cooling into something steady and warm.
“I just wanted to be with you. Out there… here… wherever."
"Well," Eddie whispered, his grin returning, wider and softer than the one he used for the stage. "Mission accomplished, Big Boy. You’re officially a revolutionary. How’s it feel?"
Steve let out a long, shaky exhale, his hands coming up to rest on Eddie’s waist. "Terrifying. Exhausting."
He paused, looking toward the parking lot where their friends were waiting, leaning against cars and shouting for them to hurry up.
“But... I think it’s the first time I’ve actually felt like I’m not hiding myself from this place. And that feels… good.”
Eddie squeezed his hip. "Good. Because we have a party to get to, and I'm pretty sure Dustin is about to start a riot if we don't let him ride in the backseat while he asks every question known to man about us, and how this all started."
"Oh god," Steve groaned, burying his face for a second against Eddie’s shoulder. "Can we please skip the origin story? I am not prepared for Dustin to know that this whole thing started because of your stupid five-dollar bet."
Eddie laughed loudly. "What? It was a classic wager, Harrington! I bet five bucks you’d like it if we kissed, and you, in your infinite, stubborn pride, countered with ten dollars that you wouldn’t."
"I was trying to prove a point!" Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shirt, though he was smiling despite himself.
"Yeah, and you failed miserably," Eddie countered, pulling back just enough to smirk at him. "You kissed me before I even had the chance to lean in. Most aggressive 'I’m not gonna like this' I’ve ever seen. And, for the record? You still owe me that ten dollars."
Steve finally pulled away, adjusting his blazer and trying to regain some semblance of his dignity, even as he caught Dustin waving frantically at them from the far end of the lot.
"I’m pretty sure I’ve paid you back plenty over the last three years," Steve shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.
Eddie’s grin turned wicked as he slung his guitar off his shoulder and slid it into the case. "Good point. But seeing Dustin’s face when he hears that you lost a bet to me and it lead us here? That’s worth way more than ten bucks. That’s legendary."
Steve sighed, knowing there was no winning this one.
He grabbed Eddie’s amp with one hand and with his other he reached out, lacing his fingers through Eddie’s own. Not caring who was watching anymore.
"Fine," Steve said, leading the way toward the cars. "Tell him. But if he starts asking for details, you’re the one who has to explain the mechanics of it to him. I’m officially off duty from the 'Sex Ed' talk as of today until the start of the school year."
"Deal," Eddie chuckled, squeezing Steve's hand.