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Eddie finds Steve in the woods.
It’s past midnight.
They’ve done this dance time after time.
“Steve, come inside.”
“How’d I even…sorry, man, dunno how I ended up here again.”
“It’s ok. But it’s cold, and you don’t even have any shoes on, big boy.”
Steve looks down at his feet as if noticing their shoeless state for the first time. He blinks at them, sluggish, sways a little and leans on a tree.
Eddie steps forward. Wants to grab, to hold, to tuck Steve under his arm and pull him close.
But Steve’s just as shirtless as he is shoeless. In fact, all he’s wearing are some sweatpants, and Eddie’s shivering even in his hoody and Steve really shouldn’t be out in the woods like this. All the same, Eddie can’t just go…touching. As much as he’d like to soothe his hands over soft, mole-spattered skin, he can’t.
It’d be dangerous.
For their friendship, and for Eddie’s stupid aching heart.
He curls his hands into fists, releases them again. “Steve, c’mon, can you walk?”
“Yeah, I, um…” Steve squints, looks around at the trees glowing in the moonlight. “I was sleepwalking again?”
“Seems like it.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
Eddie’s not sure why Steve’s apologizing - it’s not like these nightly escapades are his fault.
Since being relocated to a little house on the other side of the woods to Steve’s Loch Nora home, Eddie had discovered Steve out here an alarming amount of times.
See, Eddie has a lot of trouble sleeping. Since…Vecna, the gates, the bats that had almost torn him apart. Nightmares and pain from his still-healing wounds keep him awake in equal measure. The woods are oddly soothing – he’d taken to walking a short distance from the house when he couldn’t sleep, having a smoke, letting the cool night air dry the sweat from his skin and soothe the burning of his scars.
The first time he’d come across a confused, sleep-addled Steve out there, Eddie had been terrified. Terrified that this was a repeat of Chrissy all over again, that Steve was in a trance, that he was about to witness him float and snap.
It had become clear pretty quickly that it hadn’t been Vecna at all. Steve had simply sleepwalked right out of his house and stumbled into the woods in a daze.
And sure, while Eddie had been relieved that this wasn’t anything…Upside Down related, it still wasn’t exactly safe or healthy for Steve to be out here night after night.
He hadn’t told anyone else yet. About Steve’s habit. Steve had begged him not to, had given Eddie a funny look when he’d brought up talking to Nancy about it. Eddie had just thought…well, Steve’s still pining after her, and her and Jonathan didn’t seem very close since his return from California, so it might be a way to get Steve and Nancy talking and then maybe they’d finally get back together and then Eddie could let this go.
His all-consuming feelings for Steve, that was.
“Careful, watch your step.” Eddie takes Steve’s arm, stops him from putting his muddy foot right down on a pinecone.
Steve turns to him, blinks slow, like a damn cat, his eyes tired and soft.
Eddie clenches his jaw and lets him go.
Slowly, Steve limping slightly, they make their way out of the trees and to the front door of Eddie and Wayne’s little house.
Eddie’s uncle is working a nightshift at the plant, which is fortunate – Eddie didn’t exactly want to explain why he’s got a half-naked, dirt-encrusted Steve Harrington at the doorstep again.
“I don’t wanna get mud all through your house,” Steve mumbles, like they didn’t already have a routine in place, like they hadn’t done this before.
“Here.” Eddie hands him the old socks he keeps by the door now, exactly for this purpose. “Put those on, I’ll throw them in the wash afterwards.”
Steve winces as he eases the socks over his scraped-up feet. While he’s preoccupied with that, Eddie lets his eyes wander, tells himself it’s because he needs to assess Steve’s condition, that he’s not just greedy and wanting to take in the sight of every square inch of that man that he can.
The half-healed wounds on his sides mirror Eddie’s. While Steve’s hadn’t been as deep, Eddie also knew he hadn’t received the same level of care from the hospital as Eddie had – Steve had checked himself out early, of course he had, insisting he needed to look after the kids, needed to help with the clean-up and recovery efforts around town.
There’s dirt on those wounds now. Eddie pictures Steve lurching around in the dark, perhaps falling over, brushing up against mud and sticks and all kinds of nasty shit out there. They’re gonna have to be cleaned.
With his feet now encased in socks, Steve follows Eddie inside, closes the door wordlessly behind him.
“I’m gonna run you a bath, ok?” Eddie tells him. He knew from experience that the spray from the shower was hell on bite wounds, and figured a bath would be better for warming for Steve up – in the light of the hallway, he can see him shivering.
Steve nods, eyes downcast. He looks younger than he really is, smaller, a ghost of King Steve. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
“Don’t be, it’s fine,” Eddie promises. He ducks into the bathroom, gets the bath running, and returns to Steve.
He’s lowered himself down to sit in the hallway, head resting back against the wall, exhaustion pouring off him.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Steve laughs humourlessly, drags a hand over his face. “Can’t even sleep like a normal person. S’like I can’t…relax, even when I’m sleeping. My brain keeps telling me there’s still something out there, that I’ve gotta go find it before it finds us.”
Eddie nods. “I mean, I have nightmares all the time. Every fucking night. Just mine are a little less…active than yours.”
Steve snorts. “I might as well camp in the woods at this rate.”
“I mean, you could stay here,” Eddie says, before he can stop himself. “Just because you always end up practically on the doorstep anyway so it would just, like…save you a trip through the woods in the middle of the night, you know.” He vomits the words into the space between them.
Steve looks at him. Thoughtful, eyes puffy with fatigue, cheeks pale.
Eddie’s breath catches in his chest.
He’s beautiful, and it’s killing him.
“I’m gonna get that bath,” he says abruptly, standing up and heading for the bathroom quickly. He checks the temperature, curses to himself because why had he even suggested that to Steve, and turns off the taps. “Ok, it’s ready!”
Steve appears in the doorway.
Eddie stares again.
He’s a weak man when it comes to the prettiest guy in Hawkins. Hell, in the entire Midwest, Eddie’s sure.
“Thanks,” Steve murmurs.
“S’ok.” Eddie swallows. “I’ll just…well, I’ll leave you to it. Make sure you clean those bites well, ok? I’ll get you some clothes to change into.”
Steve nods, eyes averted, a flash of pink in his cheeks.
Or maybe Eddie imagined that last bit.
While Steve’s in the bath, Eddie rifles through his drawers, picks out a pair of sweatpants and the softest t-shirt he can find for Steve. There’s a pile of clean clothes already sitting in the corner of the room too – clothes borrowed by Steve already, always washed and returned to Eddie promptly.
Not that Eddie would mind if Steve chose to keep something. Seeing the man in his clothes made his stomach swoop.
“Eddie?” Steve calls out.
Eddie practically flies to the bathroom door, at the beck and call for him. “Yeah?”
“Um…this is…well, kinda embarrassing but I sort of need help,” Steve answers quickly, seeming to trip over his words.
“Sure, what do you need?” Eddie lingers on the other side of the door.
Silence for a moment, before Steve replies: “My back’s pretty dirty and I can’t reach everything.”
Oh.
“You want me to come in?” Eddie checks, because he’s gotta check, has to make sure he’s correct in thinking Steve practically just invited him into the same room he’s currently naked and bathing in.
“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”
“Nope, no, I don’t, not at all,” Eddie blurts, then forces himself to shut up. He’s gotta keep this…clinical.
Still, his heart skips a beat when he sees Steve in the tub, knees pulled up to his chest to hide his…
Yeah, not going there, Eddie swiftly cuts off that train of thought.
“Ok, just lean forward a bit more, let me have a better look,” Eddie says softly, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
Steve shifts a little, his cheeks on fire now.
And yeah, his back’s a bit of a mess, dirt clinging to half-healed grazes where Steve hadn’t been able to reach with the soap.
Eddie grabs a clean washcloth, runs it under the tap, and lathers it up. “Right, so I’m just gonna…” He gestures awkwardly with the cloth towards Steve’s back.
Steve nods, setting his jaw, anticipating pain.
But Eddie moves gently, carefully. Places a hand on Steve’s shoulder and it’s just to steady him, ok? And ever-so-lightly dabs across the grazes, lets the water drip down and carry away the dirt. Steve shivers under his hand, just a little, and Eddie quickly lets go of his shoulder like he’s burnt him.
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
“No, I um…well. I didn’t mind,” Steve says hoarsely.
Eddie’s stomach flip-flops. Tentatively, he returns his hand to Steve’s shoulder, wonders just how he’d earned the favour of the old gods and the new because that’s surely the only way he’s able to crouch next to a naked Steve Harrington and help him bathe.
As Steve relaxes, Eddie gets braver. He’s finished cleaning up the grazes, thinks there’s probably not a speck of dirt left on the broad expanse of tanned skin but he’s not ready for this to end.
He ditches the washcloth. Rubs his thumb in circles over Steve’s upper back, over his neck, lets his fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his head.
A tiny noise escapes Steve. The softest moan Eddie’s ever heard, and it sets him on fire.
Steve’s eyes are closed now, and he’s pressing back into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie’s earlier, valiant attempt at remaining clinical goes out the window.
He can never be clinical with Steve.
He’s starving for this man.
Steve’s lips are parted. Pink, perfect, one of the last things Eddie imagines before he goes to sleep every night.
The lighting in the bathroom is dull, the single bulb on the ceiling barely hanging on these days but moonlight streams through the window, bathing Steve in a soft glow.
Eddie’s about to force himself to look away. Has to, before he does something stupid. Something that would make Steve hate him, that would have him storming out of here and slamming the door and never speaking to him again.
But then Steve’s opening his eyes.
They lock on Eddie, catching him staring.
“Eddie…” Steve whispers.
Eddie feels like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Because Steve knows.
Eddie can see the realization all over his face.
He slumps against the tub. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “look, I’ll get you those clothes and drop you home, ok? And if you don’t want to talk to me again -”
“Eddie, that’s not –”
“And I really think you should talk to Nancy about all this. She’s smart, she’ll probably work out some way to help you. And maybe it’ll help the two of you, you know, get close again.” And then you’re truly out of my reach.
Steve frowns. “What? Me and Nance? Yeah, that ship sailed a long time ago, we’ve moved on.”
“But…”
“C’mere,” Steve says, soft smile tugging at his lips.
Eddie goes. Would do anything Steve asked.
He leans forward, and Steve reaches up, large palm covering Eddie’s cheek.
Steve kisses him.
Eddie’s entire world tilts on its axis.
Because Steve’s mouth is on his, soft lips pressed to Eddie’s.
He’s pretty sure he makes an embarrassing sound, has to brace himself on the edge of the tub. He feels warm breath on his face as Steve chuckles slightly in response, then deepens the kiss even further.
He’s kissing Steve Harrington.
Late at night in his shitty bathroom, both of them tired and scarred and vulnerable.
When Steve finally pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed against Eddie’s. Eddie, who’s just trying to get his heart rate under control.
“Is that offer to stay still going?” Steve whispers, smiling.
Eddie smiles back. Reaches for Steve, strokes across his cheek like he’s been longing to do for months.
“Always, sweetheart.”