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Steve probably should’ve seen it coming.
In reality, everything that had ever happened to him, every choice that he’d ever had to make, had led to him stumbling his way to Eddie Munson’s doorstep, half-drugged and very bruised, on the night of the Fourth of July 1985. That night wasn’t where the story started, not by any means, but it was certainly the night that Steve Harrington truly, for the very first time, realised that he was capable of being loved. Loved so fiercely that he let himself be selfish, let himself be taken care of and protected like he never had before.
Steve Harrington had always been the protector, the one keeping everyone else away from the danger that he was all too willing to face. But that summer night, Steve gained a protector of his own — one that, for once, wasn’t going anywhere. Not like his parents had, the people who were supposed to protect Steve from the sort of horrors that nobody should ever have to face. Steve didn’t need them anymore — Steve had Eddie.
The story really began on New Year's Eve the year before. That in itself was still somewhat of a mystery to Steve, who had been one of the two main players in the events of the final day of 1984.
The November of that year had started abysmally for Steve — not only had the vicious, other-worldly monsters from the year prior returned to torment them all again, he had also been dumped.
Steve probably should've seen it coming. There had been plenty of signs, after all.
Things had been rocky between him and Nancy for a while before their relationship ended. In fact, if Steve was being completely honest, things had been rocky as soon as their relationship started — after all, they'd barely been dating a week before Barbara Holland had died in Steve's pool, plunging him and Nancy headfirst into a set of circumstances that would change them forever.
So, his relationship with Nancy had never been perfect. Upon reflection, Steve figured that they'd only clung to each other for as long as they did because of their shared trauma. But that was a trauma that wasn't even unique to the two of them — unfortunately, the monsters didn't haunt only Steve's dreams — so it never would've been enough to keep them together, in hindsight. Still, getting broken up with after everything they'd been through had hurt. Steve had loved Nancy, and watching her give her own love to someone else had left a hole inside Steve — a gaping, black pit that kept whispering to him that he would never be enough.
Steve had haunted the streets of Hawkins for weeks after that, his bruises taking longer than expected to heal after Billy Hargrove had beaten his face in. By the time December rolled around, only a small pink scar beneath his lower lip was left as a reminder that November had even happened — well, that and the fact that Nancy was haunting the streets of Hawkins with Jonathan Byers. Steve was a lonely ghost, he realised.
Sure, he had found a true friend, maybe even a brother, in Dustin Henderson, and it was a relationship that Steve hoped would last a lifetime — he didn't know what he would do without that smart, stubborn kid. But a friendship with a thirteen-year-old wasn't enough to fill that black hole in Steve, the one that told him he would never find the love he craved. His parents were never around, having emotionally neglected their son for as long as he could remember — that was probably part of the reason Steve was desperate for closeness, for someone to understand him. Steve yearned for someone who would turn him inside out and inspect his flaws, and still choose to love him anyway.
On New Years Eve 1984, Steve had been wandering the woods, surrendering to his thoughts for once, rather than shoving them deep down like he usually did. Someone from high school was hosting a party for the turn of the year, and Steve had been planning on going — but by the time the sun had started to go down, he had realised that the last thing he wanted to do was welcome the New Year will people who didn't, and had never, truly cared about him. He didn't want to bother Dustin or any of the other kids whom he'd come to adore, and he certainly didn't want to encroach on Nancy and Jonathan's plans. The very last thing he wanted to do was drink alone in his empty house, so that was how he'd found himself wandering the worn paths between familiar trees, bundled up in his layers to ward off the December chill.
He hadn't had a particular destination in mind when he'd set off, but he wasn't at all surprised when his feet had led him in the direction of Skull Rock. As well as being the place he'd brought girls in the past, the large lump of stone was also a sort of safe haven for Steve. No girl he'd ever brought here would dare to find the spot without him as a guide, so Steve could always count on the area being deserted.
Apart from that night, apparently.
Steve probably should’ve seen it coming. Had he been paying more attention, he would’ve noticed the fresh footprints in the snow, guiding the way to his destination.
He saw the amber glow of a cigarette before he saw the figure holding it, and his steps stuttered upon his approach. He hadn't come here to talk to anyone — he'd come here to think, to count down to midnight alone and watch the fireworks through the trees. He considered turning around, letting the stranger have his safe haven for the night. He was halfway through turning around when his foot snapped a twig, the sound echoing through the deserted forest and making the figure snap their head in Steve's direction.
Steve sighed, closing his eyes briefly in resignation, before turning back to Skull Rock. He couldn't leave now, not now that whoever-it-was had seen him. So, he lifted his hand in an awkward display of a wave and slowly walked the remaining few feet towards the boulders.
Up close, out of the shadows of the trees, Steve could see that there was no mistaking who the stranger was now — anyone in Hawkins could recognise the long mop of curly hair, whether you liked the guy or not. Eddie Munson raised the hand holding the cigarette in a mirrored greeting, his dark eyes wary.
"You lost, Harrington?" he asked, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Steve froze, not having expected Eddie to say anything first. They'd never spoken at school, not even to exchange jabs or insults. Steve had never really been the type to insult someone without good reason, even when he had been a Grade A asshole.
"I– no," Steve replied, folding his arms across his chest in a defensive manner. "This is my spot, you know."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Your Highness," Eddie drawled, smoke curling out of his mouth as he spoke. Steve's eyes were drawn to the action. "I didn't realise that this neck of the woods was part of your royal territory."
A small frown tugged at Steve's eyebrows, but it wasn't born out of irritation — Steve just felt weary. He dropped his gaze to the leaf-ridden floor, his arms tightening around himself in a gesture that was more self-soothing than defensive now. His "King Steve" title had never failed to make him uncomfortable, even back when it had been an accurate description of him. He wasn't angry at Eddie for using it, but he really wished it wasn't so tethered to his public identity.
"It's not," he mumbled, shaking his head and rubbing a hand down his face. He should've just stayed at home and gotten drunk. "I'll go."
He turned to leave, his hand now running through his hair. Then, as an afterthought: "Happy New Year, Munson."
"Hey, wait." Steve was surprised, yet again, to hear Eddie speak. Maybe he wanted to give Steve one last jab in an attempt to bring his non-existent ego down a notch. Maybe… maybe he wanted Steve to stay. He turned to look back at the metalhead, praying that he didn't look as pathetically hopeful as he felt.
There was a look of concern in Eddie's eyes, and Steve wondered for a moment if it was glaringly obvious how lonely he was. If the slump in his shoulders and the slight dragging of his feet was like a neon sign, blaring out that Steve Harrington knew he was not fit for love, and was grieving that fact. The concern was replaced by a thoughtful expression, one that made Steve a little nervous, before Eddie seemed to settle on resolution, as if he'd made a decision about something. That decision, it seemed, was to hold out his still-burning cigarette to Steve.
Steve's eyebrows shot up, but he quickly schooled his expression, not wanting to come across too eager. He offered Eddie a grateful smile, which was, surprisingly, returned. Steve took the cigarette from Eddie's fingers and brought it to his lips, leaning against the rock beside the other man before passing it back to him. Smoke danced in the cold air around them, the only light coming from the warmth of the cigarette and the moon, nearly at its peak in the sky — a few minutes until midnight.
"What are you doing out in the woods on New Year's Eve?" Eddie asked casually, his head tilted up towards the sky. Steve glanced sideways at him, wondering if he actually cared about the answer — after all, why would he? Maybe he was just making conversation, seeing as he'd allowed Steve to stay. Steve narrowed his eyes slightly at Eddie's profile, assessing his motives, but his scrutiny quickly turned into blatant staring.
Eddie was… well, Eddie was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. The back of his head was resting against the rock as he blew smoke towards the stars, the sharp line of his jaw shifting with the action. He had freckles, Steve noticed, faint and spattered across his nose. When he blinked, his eyelashes brushed his cheeks — Steve had never seen a man with such long eyelashes. Or maybe he'd just never stared at one for long enough to notice.
He didn't realise that he hadn't actually answered Eddie's question until those dark eyes had turned on him, a questioning look passing across his face. Steve felt his cheeks redden as embarrassment rolled through him. He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Eddie's face.
"I– uh…" Jesus Christ, what was wrong with him? "Don't have anyone to celebrate New Years with so… came on a walk."
He shrugged as he said it, taking back the cigarette just to give himself something to do. He didn't want Eddie to pity him, or worse, scoff in disbelief. But Eddie did neither of those things — after staring at him for a second longer, Eddie sighed and sagged back against the rock.
"Me neither," he admitted, making Steve raise an eyebrow before he further explained. "My uncle works most nights, and he's sorta all I got, so… what better place to be than the infamous Harrington make-out spot?"
He gestured dramatically to the rock they were leaning against and the small clearing in front of them, a sarcastic, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. Steve let out a huff of laughter, feeling slightly less lonely than he had done when he left his house an hour before. His next words spilled out of him before he had a moment to check himself.
"What, were you hoping I was gonna show up and kiss you at midnight?"
It had been a joke, but they were standing so close to share the cigarette that it came out sounding almost teasing. Flirty. Both of their eyes widened at the same time, and Steve felt his heart rate skyrocket. Why had he said that? A hint of solidarity or understanding from a near-stranger and he was flirting. Why was he flirting with Eddie?
Because he's beautiful, his mind supplied, not for the first time that night. And not for the last time, either.
Steve opened his mouth to backtrack, to confirm that it was just a joke, or maybe just to turn tail and leave, but he couldn't get a word out before fireworks erupted above them, bathing them both in hues of pink and blue. Eddie startled, looking up at the sky with his chest heaving a little. When his gaze returned to Steve, there was something unreadable there — something that both thrilled and terrified him.
"Well," Eddie murmured, closing what little was left of the distance between them. "It's midnight now."
Steve probably should’ve seen it coming. He’d kissed enough people to know what someone looked like right before the press of lips against his own, warm despite the winter chill.
Steve froze, brain short-circuiting as he desperately tried to process what was happening. Eddie Munson was kissing him at midnight on New Year's in the middle of the woods — soon enough, Steve was kissing him back. The cigarette had long burned out, lying in the dirt by their feet.
The puncturing sounds of the fireworks seemed to align with the beating of Steve's heart as he pulled Eddie closer, his mind not bothering to remind him that they barely knew each other, that Eddie was a guy and he'd never kissed a guy before, that this was a really stupid idea. All he knew was the feeling of Eddie's lips, softer than expected, against his, and the realisation that he never wanted this to end.
When they pulled apart, they were both breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. Eddie had his hands fisted in the front of Steve's jacket, and Steve's hands had managed to find their way to Eddie's arms, subconsciously holding him in place. Something warm flickered inside of that gaping hole inside of Steve, a distant light in the endless black.
Eddie exhaled shakily, and Steve could see his breath as it ghosted over his lips. "You can run away now," Eddie whispered, and he sounded terrified — why did he sound so frightened? Maybe he worried that he wasn't a good kisser, but as far as Steve was concerned, that was a pretty damn good kiss, if the rapid thrumming in his own chest was anything to go by. "Or– or kick me in the balls, or something, I don't know–"
Steve blinked, pulling his head back slightly so that he could still see his face. The fireworks were still going off above them, their vibrant colours reflecting in Eddie's eyes. It was only now that Steve realised Eddie's entire body had tensed up, and the grip he had on Steve's jacket wasn't because he didn't want to let him go — it was because he was too scared to move. It took Steve a second, but he finally understood. Obviously, Eddie wasn't terrified about being a bad kisser — he was terrified because he'd just kissed another man and had no idea how that other man was going to react.
Steve then realised with a slightly hysterical laugh that it actually wasn't glaringly obvious that he liked guys, seeing as it was one of the many things he'd shoved deep down… until now, apparently. Eddie flinched a little at Steve's sudden outburst of laughter, the fear in his eyes morphing into a look of reluctant wariness, and making Steve realise he should probably stop laughing in Eddie's face and actually say something useful.
"No, I'm– I'm not gonna run away," Steve murmured with a shake of his head and a small smile. "Or… kick you in the balls."
Eddie seemed to relax a little in his hold, letting out another shaky breath. He didn't bother masking his surprise, however, choosing to frown at Steve. "…You're not?"
Steve shook his head, his heart beating a little faster again and his ears warming. He chewed the inside of his cheek, hands tightening on Eddie's arms. "No, but… um," he began quietly, cursing himself inwardly for being so bad at this. Since when was Steve Harrington bad at this? "I kinda wanna kiss you again, if–"
The sentence was barely out of Steve's mouth before Eddie was surging forwards again, all fear gone now that Steve had confirmed he wasn't about to beat Eddie up for being queer, but rather the opposite. Steve let out a hum of surprise as his lips found Eddie's again, the small noise quickly dissolving into a pleased sound as the kiss deepened. He wound his hands into Eddie's long curls, and Eddie responded by wrapping his arms completely around Steve's waist, as if he was trying to mould their bodies together.
Fireworks continued to shower the night sky as Steve and Eddie welcomed 1985 with a most unexpected kiss.
The two of them saw a lot more of each other after that, in every sense of the word. Whether it was subtle smiles shared across the high school cafeteria, or gasping breaths shared in the back of Eddie's van, Steve spent more and more time with the metalhead as December bled into January. He'd had hook-ups before, sure, but never one this all-consuming. When he wasn't with Eddie, he was thinking about him, and when he was with Eddie, it was impossible to think about anything else. They were having fun, more fun than Steve had had in a long time. Every day that passed, Steve felt that black hole inside of him getting smaller and smaller, and he found it easier to ignore the voice that whispered to him from the darkness, making him doubt his self-worth. It was probably foolish, to let that warmth inside of him, the warmth he only ever felt with Eddie, grow until it was a blazing fire. After all, they'd agreed early on that this thing between them was only about sex, a distraction from the things they both wanted to ignore.
It was never supposed to be about love.
But Steve probably should've seen it coming. People who weren’t falling in love didn’t do the things that they did.
If it had only been about sex, there would never have been hours spent cuddling and giggling against each other's lips afterwards. There would never have been nights where they didn't even have sex, choosing instead to talk or smoke or just be in each other's company. If it had only been about sex, Steve never would've stayed the night again and again and again. He never would've pressed soft kisses to Eddie's hair before he slipped away in the quiet of the mornings, and never would've left little notes on his bedside table, promising to see him again soon. If it had only been about sex, Steve never would've fallen irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him.
But Steve hadn't seen it coming. Eddie had well and truly snuck up on him, and Steve was powerless to resist his magnetism. He couldn't help but be pulled in by a laugh so melodic and beautiful, Steve thought he would never hear a sweeter sound again. He had no choice but to get lost in the endless brown of Eddie's eyes, so dark that Steve swore he could see stars reflected there.
So, what had started as a rebound evolved into love – one deeper, stronger, and more real than any Steve had ever dreamed of, let alone experienced. Because Eddie… well, Eddie loved with his whole being.
It had been, of all the cliché days, Valentine’s Day when Steve had decided that he couldn’t hold it in anymore. That warmth inside of him had been threatening to spill out for longer than he cared to admit, and knew if he didn’t tell Eddie how he really felt soon, he’d end up with his heart shattered and a gaping, black hole that was sure to swallow him whole this time.
He’d planned to do the only thing he really knew how to do: romance Eddie. He’d bought flowers — dark red ones that he thought Eddie might like — and set up a picnic under Skull Rock, the site of their first kiss, with enough blankets to keep them cosy. It was all terribly corny, but Steve reckoned he could pull it off. That didn’t mean, however, that he wasn’t practically vibrating with nervous energy by the time he heard Eddie’s slightly sporadic footfall making its way through the trees.
Eddie’s jaw dropped when he saw Steve standing there with flowers in hand and a shy smile on his face, and Steve swallowed, stomach churning.
“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat when it came out raspier than intended. He really should’ve rehearsed this more beforehand. “I– um… I wanted to surprise you. I got you these–” He held up the flowers lamely, suddenly feeling a little stupid about deciding to buy them. Did Eddie even like flowers? “–and I got some food and stuff.”
Eddie still wasn’t saying anything, his mouth now snapped shut as he watched Steve like a deer in headlights. Steve gently laid the flowers down on the blanket at his feet, taking a step in Eddie’s direction and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.
“I know I didn’t ask you to be my Valentine, and I guess it’s kinda late for that now because it’s–” He checked his watch, sucking in a nervous breath. “– 8 o’clock, but, um… fuck, what was I gonna say…”
Eddie was slowly walking towards him now, but Steve didn’t dare look at his face. He was starting to regret this whole thing — why couldn’t he have just left their relationship as it was? He just had to go and fall in love with Eddie and make everything a million times more difficult. He scrambled for his words, trying to salvage what they had before it was too late. Steve knew Eddie wasn’t the type to be mean, but he didn’t know if he could face rejection again. Not when his feelings were this strong.
“Steve.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, unreadable to Steve’s ears. He glanced up, bracing himself — Eddie was standing right in front of him now, almost as close as they had been on New Year’s Eve, when innocently sharing a cigarette had turned into making out against Skull Rock.
“Yeah?” Steve whispered, swallowing.
Eddie did something then that made Steve’s heart soar out of his chest. He brought his ring-clad hands up to cradle Steve’s face gently — Eddie was almost always gentle with him — and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Steve melted with relief, his own hands coming up to rest on Eddie’s waist. His stomach was fluttering, but it wasn’t from nerves anymore. When Eddie pulled back to look at him, he was smiling, eyes bright.
“How did you know that red dahlias are my favourite flower?” he murmured, nudging his freckled nose against Steve’s.
Steve grinned, feeling lighter than he had in years. “Lucky guess. You like them?”
“I love them,” Eddie confirmed quietly, fingers twitching against Steve’s face as he added: “I love you.”
Steve would’ve been annoyed that Eddie had swooped in and said it first, had it not been for the fact that he was overcome with a joy so strong it threatened to burst out of every orifice in the form of blinding, golden light. They spent the rest of Valentine’s Day sharing body warmth and food and kisses and “I love you’s” in the shelter of Skull Rock, until it was too cold and too late to stay any longer. Steve spent that night in Eddie’s trailer, and woke up surrounded by the warmth of his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who loved him, and wasn’t afraid to repeat the sentiment the minute he opened his eyes to the early morning sun. Steve grinned and whispered it right back.
The months that followed were some of the best of Steve’s life. Sure, he hadn’t gotten into any colleges and Eddie hadn’t even graduated (again), but it didn’t matter to either of them — when they were together, the rest of the world fell away. Keeping his love for Eddie a secret was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, sure, but it was all worth it for the look on his boyfriend’s face when he’d climb through the trailer window in the middle of the night just to say hi, whisper-laughing against his lips because everything was funnier when they had to be quiet. The black hole inside Steve gradually shrunk until it was nothing more than a meaningless spec, overtaken by Eddie’s warmth, his light. He could tell Eddie anything, and he did.
Well… almost everything. There was one thing that Steve would never clue Eddie in on unless he had no other choice, and it wasn’t because he liked keeping secrets from Eddie — he was trying to protect him. Protect him from the horrors that lay beneath their very feet, the monsters that crept through shadows as they slept. If Eddie ever got dragged into any of it, if Eddie ever got hurt… Steve didn’t know what he’d do. A world without Eddie wasn’t a world worth living in, so Steve made it his mission to keep him alive. Safe.
Which was why he avoided Eddie completely in the two days leading up to the Fourth of July 1985. Steve had known in his gut that the Russian broadcast Dustin had intercepted was somehow connected to the Upside Down — he prayed that it wasn’t, but he just knew. Nothing in Hawkins ever slept for long, and Steve had been through this twice now to know the signs. The monsters were coming back, and this time, Steve had something too precious to bargain. So, when Robin started cracking the code, Steve started ignoring Eddie’s calls. It was a miracle, really, that Eddie didn’t show up at Scoops, demanding that Steve talk to him, until it was too late. Until Steve was already down in that bunker, miles below Eddie’s feet.
If the months he’d been with Eddie had been his time in Heaven, the 24 hours he spent in the Russian base was certainly his time in Hell. After they’d been caught, and the two kids had thankfully managed to escape, Steve had been separated from Robin for questioning. Foolishly, he thought that ‘questioning’ was all it would be — Steve would tell them that he really didn’t know anything outside of the coded broadcast, and that would be that. He didn’t expect the fist that connected with his face after his first honest answer.
Steve probably should’ve seen it coming. After all, the one in charge had nodded to the big burly one, who had obviously been put in the room for a reason — the reason was all too obvious once Steve’s ears had started ringing, but he hadn’t noticed the subtle, wordless order that passed between the two men in enough time to brace himself.
It hadn’t been the only hit, either.
The only good thing that had come out of that experience had been gaining a best friend, platonic soulmate perhaps, for life. Steve had never been more glad to have someone like Robin by his side when they’d been drugged — Steve was so terrified that he would say something about Eddie and put him in danger, he thought he was going to puke all over the Russian officer that was questioning them. Robin’s presence calmed him, her back pressed against his, and inadvertently reminded him, in his hazy, drugged-up state, that the Russians weren’t after Eddie. They didn’t know about him, they couldn't use him to get information out of Steve. Eddie was safe. Eddie was safe.
Escaping whilst on Russian-issued truth serum was an experience Steve wasn’t likely to forget. If it wasn’t for Dustin’s quick-thinking and Erica’s no-nonsense attitude, Steve and Robin never would’ve made it out. Thankfully, they puked up most of the drugs soon after, leading to a confession that bonded them for life — it was nice to hear that Steve wasn’t alone, even if he didn’t tell her about Eddie. Not yet. Maybe he could introduce them, sometime.
A harrowing fight followed, one that battered Steve up even more than he already was. But this time, finally, it seemed like the horrors were truly over. Or, at least, Steve hoped they were — he wasn't entirely sure he could handle this for a fourth time. Ambulances arrived at the scene, along with a lot of government officials, already concocting a perfect cover story for the events of the night. Steve didn’t let the paramedics look at him at first — he was too focused on making sure everyone else was alright, El especially, who’d lost not only her powers but her father too. Eventually, he let himself be manhandled into the back of an ambulance, where a rough-handed medic cleaned and dressed the worst of his wounds. His face still ached, and he could feel a sharp twinge in his side whenever he moved too quickly, but he didn’t want to sit around in the back of the ambulance forever.
He wandered over to a curb, wincing as he lowered himself to the ground. It wasn't long before Robin joined him, wrapped in a blanket, and wordlessly rested her head on his shoulder. After that, the group started leaving one by one. Robin’s parents came, and Steve could tell that she didn’t want to leave him. He waved her off and watched her reluctantly walk to her parents' car. Both her mother and father embraced her immediately, worry and relief etched across their faces — Steve couldn’t help but feel the dark stab of jealousy, deep in his gut. He was 18 now — he didn’t need an adult to come and collect him, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that his parents never would have come to get him, to check that he was safe and alive, even if they were in town, even if Steve wasn't legally an adult. They didn’t care enough about him, which was something that Steve had long come to terms with.
Nobody ever cares about you, that spec of darkness whispered, seeping through the cracks of his slightly drugged brain.
Someone does, that warm light argued, repelling the darkness. That voice was stronger, it had been for months, and Steve couldn’t ignore it. He hated himself for it, hated that he was doing the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t do, as he rose from the curb and let his feet lead him towards the one person whose orbit Steve just couldn’t escape.
Steve knew that Wayne was working the night shift — he’d long ago memorised his schedule — so he could use the front door tonight. He sighed, the heaviness of the breath making his ribs ache, and knocked softly on the door. The trailer park was peaceful, the quiet only broken by the distant pop of fireworks. Despite how much pain he was in and how tired he felt, Steve smiled to himself. Fireworks always reminded him of Eddie.
Eddie, who still hadn’t opened the door. Maybe he hadn’t heard the knock, or perhaps he was asleep, blissfully unaware of anything that had happened at the mall tonight, as most of Hawkins still was. Maybe, Steve thought with a sickening guilt, he'd recognised the familiar rhythm of Steve’s raps and was ignoring him, angry at him for being avoidant. Steve leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the trailer door, squeezing his eyes shut.
He could leave, right now. He could accept Eddie’s silence as a sign and go home, leaving him out of this mess. Because if Eddie saw the state Steve was in, he’d demand answers — if Steve chose to go inside the trailer, Eddie would have to know. There was no way Steve could lie to him now. Eddie was too smart to accept “accidental mall fire” as an excuse, and Steve was too exhausted to make the lie believable. If Steve went home, Eddie would be safe.
Forcing himself not to cry, Steve straightened up and took a step back down onto the grass. He lingered at the door for a moment longer, wishing that his life wasn’t so incredibly difficult, when the door opened.
“You better have come to explain, or I’ll–”
Eddie stopped himself the second he laid eyes on Steve. Steve, who was still wearing his bloodied, torn Scoops uniform, his face so badly bruised that one of his eyes wouldn’t open properly. Steve’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the one person he should walk away from right now, the one person who he needed the most.
“Stevie, what happened?” Eddie whispered, eyes wide and knuckles whitening where he was gripping the doorframe. Steve couldn’t stop himself, finally letting the tears fall — the salt stung his fresh wounds.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, shoulders shaking as Eddie pulled him inside and shut the door. He cradled Steve’s face in his hands, and he was being so gentle that it made Steve cry even harder. He really didn’t deserve Eddie Munson.
Eddie’s beautiful doe eyes, now filled with worry, were flitting rapidly across Steve’s face, assessing every injury. “Who did this?”
Steve felt sick. He didn’t want to lie to Eddie, but he didn’t want to tell him either. He had to choose: lose Eddie and protect him, or keep him and put him at risk. It was the hardest choice Steve thought he would ever have to make… until Eddie spoke again.
“Steve.”
It was nothing ground-breaking — just his name. But Eddie’s voice had always found a way of burrowing itself so deep inside Steve that the sound of it seemed to echo through his very soul. Steve met Eddie’s gaze again, and it was so intense and sure that it wasn’t hard for him to understand what Eddie was trying to convey: “I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not.”
Eddie would never be safe because he loved Steve — he loved him with everything he had. So long as Steve was in danger, then Eddie was too, whether he knew what the dangers were or not. It hit Steve with a blinding clarity that it didn’t matter whether Eddie knew about the horrors that spilled into their world every year. It didn’t matter how many lies Steve told, or how hard he tried to protect Eddie.
For the first time in Steve’s life, someone was protecting him. Choosing him. Eddie would fight any evil for Steve, and he knew that now, could see it rooted deep in those unwavering brown eyes. How could Eddie fight an evil that he didn’t know?
The realisation made Steve burst into tears all over again, and he sagged forwards into Eddie’s arms and told him everything.
At some point, they moved away from the front door and collapsed onto Eddie’s bed. Steve wasn’t entirely coherent when he’d launched into his explanation, so Eddie had told him to breathe and made him a hot chocolate — it was shitty because it was cheap, but it warmed Steve right down to his core, washing away the lingering taste of vomit. After Steve had calmed down a little, Eddie helped him out of his tattered uniform — the older boy sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the bruising across Steve’s ribs, but he didn’t say anything yet, waiting for Steve to explain what had happened to him first. He helped Steve change into one of his own band tees and a pair of black sweatpants, whispering, “I know, sweetheart, I know” into Steve’s hair whenever he hissed in pain.
Finally, Steve was comfortable, and tiredness hit him like a truck. Eddie would’ve let him sleep, he knew he would, but there was no way Steve would be able to properly rest without giving Eddie the explanation he deserved. So, he did, starting right back on November 6th, 1983.
To Eddie’s credit, he didn’t interrupt Steve once. His expression remained mostly unreadable for the majority of the story, but Steve noticed the flash of anger when he got to the bit about the Russians beating him up mere hours before. All the while, Eddie’s thumb was brushing soft, steady lines across the back of Steve’s hand, grounding him and making him feel slightly better about dragging him into this. By the time he was done, Steve felt like a lead weight had been lifted off his chest, and he slowly glanced up at Eddie to see his reaction.
It was unlikely that Eddie would believe him, Steve knew that — monsters and alternate dimensions almost definitely weren’t part of the explanation that Eddie was expecting. Eddie still had an unreadable expression on his face, which made Steve nervous — he’d become so good at reading Eddie by now that it rattled him when he couldn’t. After what felt like hours, but was probably only ten seconds, Eddie frowned.
“You could’ve told me about the code,” he mumbled, and he sounded almost petulant. He was practically pouting. “I like solving puzzles.”
Steve gawked at him, his body protesting as the skin on his face stretched to accommodate for the fact that his jaw had dropped wide open.
“That’s– that’s it?” he exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at his boyfriend. “I just told you that there’s a Hell dimension full of monsters that I’ve fought… and you’re upset that I didn’t let you help crack the code?!”
Steve was beyond flabbergasted — how on Earth was that the thing that Eddie was focusing on? Out of everything Steve had told him within the last hour, secret Russian codes was certainly not the thing that should be dominating Eddie’s brain and–
And yeah… Steve probably should’ve seen it coming. But Eddie’s sense of humour was often quite blunt, so Steve didn’t catch onto the joke before his boyfriend was cackling in his face.
Eddie was downright vibrating with the need to laugh, until it finally burst out of him. Usually, Steve would go all lovestruck and gooey at the sound of Eddie’s laugh, or the sight of him throwing his head back like he was now — but all Steve could feel was confusion and a little bit of annoyance. He folded his arms across his chest the best he could and glared at Eddie.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie wheezed, his entire body shaking with laughter until he managed to compose himself to sit upright, still grinning.
“You don’t believe me,” Steve mumbled, dropping his hands to his lap in defeat.
“Oh no, I believe you,” Eddie said sincerely, even though he was still sporting that infuriatingly teasing smile. “I just can’t believe you managed to keep a secret like this from me. You're usually a terrible liar.”
Steve stared at Eddie, feeling a disbelieving laugh threatening to escape him. Not only did Eddie actually seem to believe him without any proof, but he was taking the whole thing remarkably well, so much so that he was teasing Steve. Steve kind of wanted to kiss him about it, and he probably would’ve if his face wasn’t busted.
He also kind of wanted to cry about it, which he did, his lower lip trembling as his eyes stung again. Eddie softened immediately, all teasing forgotten as he drew Steve into his arms, one hand coming up to gently card through his hair.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to the less injured side of Steve’s face. “Look at me.”
Steve did, sniffing, and Eddie brushed his thumb lightly across Steve’s cheekbone to catch a stray tear.
“I mean, yeah, that’s… a lot to take in,” he said softly, exhaling a shaky breath. Steve saw it then: the hint of fear that he was all too familiar with. It was an echo of the look that he’d probably displayed the first time he saw a Demogorgon in the Byers house. Steve felt a wave of guilt all over again for telling Eddie. “Monsters and… and shit. Not exactly what I was expecting, Stevie.”
He huffed out a laugh, still stroking his fingers through Steve’s hair. “But… there would be so many more believable explanations for the way you look right now, and…” He chewed on his lower lip, making Steve want to reach out and stop him, soothing the chapped skin with his own thumb. He didn’t, because Eddie kept talking. “And I– I guess I kinda always knew that there was something, you know. I mean, I know you.”
He knows me. Steve felt warm at the thought that Eddie really did know him, inside and out, flaws and all. They could reach each other like books, both fluent in the other’s own unique language. It felt so good to be known, and Steve couldn’t help the small, wet smile that tugged at his lips.
Eddie mirrored his expression, letting out another shaky breath. “I just wish you’d told me earlier. I could’ve–”
“No,” Steve cut him off, as firmly as he could muster with how fragile he was feeling. “I wanted to protect you.”
Eddie huffed, his smile turning fond. “And what if I wanna protect you, huh? Ever think about that, pretty boy?”
Steve blushed at the familiar nickname, feeling a little sheepish now that he’d had the life-altering realisation that Eddie always would protect him. That they could protect each other. “Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, resting his forehead gently against Steve’s. “You should be.”
Steve sighed, closing his eyes and breathing in Eddie’s comforting scent. Carefully, Eddie lowered them both down and pulled the blanket up to cover them, being extra cautious of Steve’s ribs. Steve wasn’t sure when he fell asleep — probably the second his head hit the pillow — but the next thing he knew, he was blinking awake to warm sunlight and the distant sound of something sizzling in a frying pan. The bed was empty beside him, but still warm.
Steve’s entire body ached as he pushed himself into a sitting position, already planning on getting up to help Eddie with breakfast. He winced when he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, and he was preparing himself to stand when:
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Steve looked up at the bedroom door, halfway risen from the bed, to see Eddie stood there with a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. His hair was tied back in the way that Steve loved, and he was wearing the same outfit he’d worn almost every day of summer so far: a pair of baggy sweat-shorts and a cropped band tee that he’d obviously cut up himself. He was unfairly attractive.
“Um… getting up?” Steve tried, but Eddie was already depositing the plate and mug on the bedside table and gently, yet forcefully, pushing Steve back onto the bed. “Eds–”
“You’re not getting up, Harrington,” Eddie said flatly, positioning the pillows behind Steve in a way that made him able to sit up comfortably. Steve had never seen him fuss like this before, but it was oddly endearing. “Your ribs are broken and you look like shit. You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna let me take care of you.”
Steve blinked, letting himself be manhandled into a sitting position by his boyfriend, who started tugging the blanket back up over his legs. Nobody had ever treated him like this before. When he’d hurt himself as a kid, his father had simply told him to “stop crying and get back up” because “Harrington men don’t cry,” and he couldn’t remember a time when his mother had done more than put a plaster over a scrape on his knee. After both times he’d fought Demogorgans, Steve had returned to a big empty house to lick his own wounds.
If Steve had known that this was an option, he would’ve sought Eddie out a long time ago. The warmth in his chest grew and spread right down to his toes as Eddie brushed his hair away from his face and gently touched his bruises to check them, before pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose and handing him the food he’d made — the bacon was burnt, because Eddie was a terrible cook, but Steve didn’t care one bit. As far as he was concerned, it was the best meal he’d ever eaten. Even as Eddie forced painkillers down his throat, Steve could feel himself falling even more in love with him, if that was even possible.
They spent the rest of the day in bed, and Steve let Eddie take care of him. His beautiful, funny, intelligent Eddie, who’d snuck into his life one night and filled him with enough warmth to last a thousand terrible winters. Eddie, with his starry eyes that Steve loved getting lost in, eyes that only ever looked at him with adoration, as if Steve himself had hung the moon. It was like Eddie had been made especially for him, filling in every empty crevice in Steve’s life that he thought would never be filled. He was perfect.
Steve probably should’ve seen him coming. But really, he didn’t mind that he hadn’t — there was no surprise sweeter than Eddie Munson.