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The most shocking thing after everything was said and done wasn't that there was an interdimensional monster haunting all of them, that the government was experimenting on little kids to turn them into soldiers, or that Hawkins, Indiana was secretly a hotbed for weird supernatural activity. Eddie had always known there was more to life than what he could see, that the government couldn't be trusted, and that Hawkins, Indiana was weird as shit. No, the most shocking thing was discovering that Steve Harrington was nice.

Before the Upside Down, Eddie had never been inside the Harrington household, but now he spent the bulk of his time there. Whole afternoons were spent in Steve Harrington's living room, sprawled across overly plush white couches surrounded by all the little kids from Hellfire Club, as well a random assortment of kids from school.

Despite the new group being comprised entirely of children and kids his age he'd never had a single conversation with, it was fun.

The kids, well, he knew they were good kids. They were weirdos, freaks, outcasts. They were his lost sheep, and he was the leader of the Hellfire Club. They were of the same ilk. Even Max Mayfield and Will Byers he could understand. Will Byers was as queer as a three-dollar bill and head over heels in love with Mike Wheeler, which would be hilarious if it weren't so sad. Max Mayfield was trailer trash just like Eddie was, and just as covered in spikes, even now, still healing from all the damage Vecna had rained down on her.

Jonathan Byers and Robin Buckley, while Eddie had never been particularly friendly with either of them, he also got. Jonathan was a freak too, and a creep. Buckley was a fellow musician, and, as Eddie found out rather quickly, was another fellow invert. The sheer number of queers apparently involved in all this Upside Down bullshit was proving his first point that Hawkins was weird as hell.

Even Nancy Wheeler, he could understand hanging around a little bit, since she was Mike's older sister and Jonathan's girlfriend.

But Steve Harrington, the bane of his existence from age 14 onwards, until Steve graduated and Eddie no longer had to look at his perfect hair or sparkling eyes on a daily basis? Steve Harrington Eddie could not grasp hanging out with at all.

And yet somehow that was who Eddie saw the most of. Steve Harrington, of the hair. More than Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy, who somehow had their own lives outside of the mess they were all mired in. More than the kids who were a unit unto themselves. More than Eddie's old friends, certainly, since Eddie had no idea how to explain any of this shit to them.

And Steve Harrington outside of high school? He was nice.

Like. Sure, Steve was a bitch. He could be catty, and he could pout. But he wasn't an asshole, and he bent over backwards for the kids, as much as he pretended that he didn't. He drove the them around all the time, even if he whined about it. He kept track of Max's physical therapy appointments. He was happy to let his house serve as a meeting base for both the teen and kid contingents.

This newfound niceness, coupled with his stupid hair, bright eyes, and wide smile?

It was a lethal combination. Eddie didn't know what to do about it.

So instead, he needled.

It wasn't hard to do. Steve stood for all the things Eddie had always stood against: preps, jocks, rich kids. Everything that school had said was desirable and enviable. Furthermore, he was fun to pick at. All Eddie had to do was say the word, and Steve would be a hissing, spitting cat, a hot red flush spreading from his cheeks down his neck.

It was fun to watch.

The easiest thing to pick on Steve about was his interest in sports. It wasn't a common subject in their circle of nerds, freaks and weirdos, but Steve was a genuine, certified jock, and Lucas was athletic in a way that the rest of the kids were struggling with. So there were athletes in their midst, and every once in a while Lucas would say something, or Steve would say something, and Eddie would have the opportunity to get a rise out of Steve before the subject inevitably changed back into something more of the group was interested in.

It was the peak of summer. June and most of July had faded away into a blurry, heat-soaked haze and all any of them could think about was sprawling on the coolest surface they could find. Mostly, this meant the tile floors of the Harrington kitchen, though Max, who couldn't get up or down as easily as the rest of them, was sitting slumped in her wheel chair with the fan pointed directly at her. Lucas, though, was restless. He kept sitting up, looking around, and then laying back down.

Finally, Steve seemed to have enough of it. "Lucas, man, what's going on?" he asked.

Lucas huffed out a sigh, and finally sat up properly, leaning back against the kitchen cabinets and propping his arms on his knees. "Basketball tryouts are in like, two weeks," he said.

Steve shrugged. "So what? You made the team last year, you'll make it again this year. I don't know anyone who didn't make the cut after being on the team previously."

"Yeah," Lucas said. "But basically everyone you know spent the summer actually playing. I haven't played at all."

"That's not true," Steve said. "We've gone out a few times. We could go find a pick-up game, if you wanted to?"

"Really?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah, man," Steve said, a grin lighting up his face as he shook out his hair. "I'd love to. It's been a while since I've played, it'll be fun."

Eddie groaned. "It's too hot for this," he said, flopping on the ground. "Stop talking about sports, you're making me nauseous."

"Shut up," Steve said, shoving Eddie affably. "Just because you hate it doesn't mean everyone else does."

And there was his opportunity, Eddie thought, pleased. "You're just excited to go play with your balls," he taunted.

But this time, Steve didn't fluster. He rolled his shoulders, and shoved himself to a standing position before pulling his arms back into a long stretch that showed off the length of his toned stomach. Somehow, despite spending most of his time inside with the rest of the gang, Steve had found the time to go outside and actually get a tan. His skin glowed. Eddie swallowed with sudden hunger.

"Yeah, man, whatever," Steve said, laughing. "Lucas, we can play tomorrow when I get off, if that works for you?"

"Yes!" Lucas said, and Eddie checked out of the conversation, mentally making plans to be literally anywhere else tomorrow. It would be a good day to work on the campaign he was planning for the kids as a back-to-school surprise. He was hoping Steve was going to join. He was still insistent that he wasn't interested, but he had started hanging around and listening to the others play, so Eddie was hopeful. Steve would be fun in any role, but Eddie liked the idea of him playing a bard. His natural charisma would make for a fun game.

He rolled, trying to find a new patch of coolness on the floor, but the sun had moved lower, and more of it was coming through the kitchen windows, warming up the tile, and Eddie was forced to sit up.

"Let's watch a movie," he said.

Steve groaned. "Yes please. I'm getting so bored just lying around. Eddie, go pick something out."

Obediently, Eddie stood, and shuffled his way into the living room to paw at the stack of movies that lived on Steve's coffee table. It was an eclectic mix, foreign films from Robin, art films from Jonathan, fantasy movies from the kids, horror movies he himself had recommended. He paused over one of the films.

It was one of Eddie's favorites, an older horror flick from the 1950s that he watched with his uncle as a kid. It wasn't a good movie by any means, but it was comforting to him, a call-back to safer days and safer places, when the worst thing he could imagine was his dad showing up again to take him home.

He had overheard one of the kids ragging on it when they saw the VHS in the movie store, and hadn't been able to let it slide.

"You don't know what you're missing," he exclaimed, holding the VHS in his hands. "This is a top-notch film, here." The kids had rolled their eyes, and Eddie had put it back down, unwilling to die on the hill of a film he loved but knew was schlocky. But here it was in the pile of movies Steve had brought home from work.

"You spoke so highly of it," Steve said, and Eddie turned to face him, eyebrows high.

"It's not good, though," he admitted.

Steve just shrugged. "But you like it," he said.

"I do," Eddie admitted.

"Then let's watch it," he said, putting his hand out for the tape. Eddie passed it over easily, and Steve popped it into the VHS player.

Steve was just like that. Game. Down. If someone loved something, he'd give it a chance. As much as he ragged on the group for their "weird nerd hobbies", he never said no when asked if he wanted to join in. And he didn't half-ass it, either, the way Eddie would have if the tables had been turned. He tried.

He had apparently asked Will for lessons on how to play Dungeons and Dragons, something Will had only told Eddie in the strictest of confidences.

It shocked Eddie, Steve's willingness to try new things just because the people around him had expressed an interest in them. It certainly wasn't a trait that Eddie shared. If he wasn't interested in the subject matter, he just tuned out. Even his oldest friends had gotten annoyed with him because he had dropped out of a conversation midway through. It wasn't his greatest character trait.

But Steve made him understand why other people valued it. There was just something about someone hearing you, and listening to you, and thinking, ok, sure, I'll give it a try.

Steve settled on the couch besides Eddie, comfortably fast forwarding through the ads. "Lucas," he yelled. "You're in charge of popcorn!"

"Got it," Lucas called back from the kitchen. When he appeared a few minutes later, pushing Max, who was holding the bowl of popcorn, neither of them made any comment on the movie, either, and Steve started it without fanfare.

That casual kindness, the lack of questioning as to why they were watching a truly, truly horrific movie, was how Eddie found himself at the park the next day, sitting next to Max, while Steve and Lucas practiced basketball.

Like the day before, it was miserably hot. Eddie's black clothes and dark hair were absorbing all the sun's rays like they were hoping to become solar powered, and sweat was trickling down his back. He felt disgusting. He wished he had brought a water bottle or something. Maybe a beer bottle. Anything cold, really.

Beside him, Max looked just as miserable, red and flushed from the heat, but she wasn't complaining. She had tied her hair into a knot at the back of her neck, and had on a silly blue plastic visor that was protecting her face from the worst of the sun's rays.

"You should have a hat on, too," she told Eddie, fanning herself slowly with a magazine she'd brought with her but hadn't opened. "You spend so much time inside, I'm surprised you don't turn into smoke when the sun hits you."

"Despite all rumors to the contrary," Eddie drawled, "I'm not actually a vampire."

"Could have fooled me," Max said. "You whine so much every time some suggests doing something outside, I was beginning to think it might actually kill you."

Eddie flushed. It was true, he didn't like outdoor activities. He had his hobbies, and he didn't like to deviate from them. "I'm here, aren't I?" he said.

Max scoffed. "Yeah, but you won't shut up about it. It's been a nonstop stream of how much you hate basketball for the last fifteen minutes. Do you ever talk about anything else?

"I talk about plenty else," Eddie said.

"Mmhmm," Max said, turning her attention to the magazine she had finally decided to open. "I'm just saying. Have you ever thought that Steve doesn't complain when you ask him to do things?"

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Steve does whatever you guys ask him to do," Max said again, spelling it out for him. "Maybe it should go both ways?"

Max was right. It was the same thing Eddie had been thinking about the day before, when Steve had put in the movie Eddie liked, and watched it, without complaining. He leaned back on the picnic table, mentally combing through all the things Steve had agreed to since they'd started hanging out in the spring. Max was right.

Steve did whatever any of them suggested. And he rarely suggested anything himself.

Eddie knew Steve had interests separate from them all. He had hobbies before all of them, but when he kids became a part of his life, it was like he had dropped everything. It wasn't fair. It was kinda shitty, actually.

Eddie was going to have to balance things out.

He was going to have to play basketball with Steve. He groaned and draped himself over the picnic table. "You're the worst, Red," he told her.

Max shot him an amused grin. "But I'm right," she said.

"You're right," he agreed, grimly, and turned his attention to the court, where Steve and Lucas were laughing, haggling over a bright orange ball. Despite the two of them working far harder than Max or Eddie were, they looked significantly more comfortable then Eddie felt. The sweat just made Steve glisten, and the exertion brought a flush to his face, a vivacity.

He looks really fuckin' happy, Eddie thought to himself. And then, before he could think better of it, I could make him that happy. I'd like to make him that happy.

I'd like to try.

Eddie pillowed his head on his hands, and watched Steve and Lucas play basketball, until the two finally tired enough to join Max and Eddie on the benches. It was late afternoon by then, the horrific heat beginning to cool, but Steve took his water bottle and squirted it over his face before taking a long pull.

"You know that's all the water you brought," Max told him.

Steve shook his wet and sweaty head at her. "There's a water fountain right over there," he said, pointing.

Max crinkled her nose at him, leaning backwards and away from him. "It tastes like metal," she said.

"Not all of us are pretty princesses," Steve said. He turned towards Eddie, as if just realizing he was still there. "You stuck around, man!" he said, like he was genuinely surprised Eddie hadn't vanished sometime in the last forty-five minutes.

Eddie spread his arms wide. "Of course I stayed, your highness, seeing as you drove me here."

Steve's face fell and Eddie knew immediately he had said the wrong thing. "I didn't have anything better to do," he mumbled, and this time, he got Max's sharp elbow in his side for his troubles.

Eddie dropped his hands away from his face.

Steve was looking at him oddly.

"Basketball's important you to," he said, already feeling his face flooding with heat. "So color me curious."

"Was that really so hard," Max drawled.

Steve ignored her, and clapped Eddie on the back. "That's great, man," he said, all cavalier and fraternal about it, and that was all wrong. That wasn't what Eddie wanted at all. If he knew one thing for sure, it was that he didn't feel brotherly towards King Steve. He didn't feel brotherly at all.

He would have to turn up the charm.

That's where he went wrong.

He sat up straight, craning his head to look up at Steve, and put on his most absolutely winning smile.

"Why don't you teach me, big boy," he said. And then his brain disconnected.

It came back online a few minutes later. Steve was talking.

"...off Saturday, so we can play then?" Steve was saying.

Eddie didn't have to have heard the first part of that sentence to know what Steve had suggested. His heart sank. Steve looked so happy, so hopeful. It would be actually evil for Eddie to take that away from him. There was only one option.

"Sure," he said. "I'll play basketball with you on Saturday.

No God could save Eddie. He was too far gone.

But Steve's smile, brighter then Eddie had ever seen it, might come close.

The game was set for Saturday evening, so that gave Eddie two whole days to dread what he'd agreed to: a single one on one match with Steve, where Steve would teach Eddie the rules of the game, and Eddie, hopefully, would fail to spontaneously combust.

At least if Eddie burst into flames, he wouldn't have to play basketball. He wouldn't get to watch Steve in his tiny, sweaty shorts, either and he couldn't decide if that would be a blessing or a curse.

He did his best to put the whole thing out of his mind, but found he couldn't. He was haunted, haunted by what would become of him if any of his former friends found out what had become of him, haunted by his failure to stick by his own principles, and haunted by Steve's smile, fuller and brighter then Eddie had seen it in all the years he'd known Steve.

More than anything, he wanted to see that smile directed towards himself again. If that meant playing a sport, then so be it. Eddie would play a sport. He would even dress the part, so far as his own wardrobe would allow.

***

"Ok," Steve said, standing in his doorway and looking at Eddie. "This is not going to work. You'll get heatstroke and die."

Eddie looked down at his ensemble, the ratty jeans he wore every day, his softest band tee shirt. He had subbed his boots for the sneakers he wore in gym class, so that at least was fine, and he'd taken off his rings, because that just seemed practical.

"What's wrong with it?" Eddie asked. He'd done his best, but it wasn't like he had a wardrobe brimming with athletic gear. Not like Steve did, anyway.

Steve, who was wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had seen in his life, and a tank top cut so low Eddie might be able to see his nipples. He was trying not to look.

"Nothing," Steve said. "Generally. But if you want to like, actually be able to move, you need to wear something you can move in."

"I can move in this," Eddie argued, keeping his eyes carefully trained above Steve's neck.

Steve rolled his eyes, and grabbed Eddie by the wrist, tugging him into the house. "Come on," he said. "You can borrow something of mine. God forbid you wear something that isn't like, covered in chains..." Steve tugged Eddie along behind him, through the entryway and up the stairs to his bedroom, muttering all the while.

Eddie let himself be towed. It gave him ample opportunity to stare at Steve's ass in his sinfully short shorts. The white trim popped against Steve's skin. Eddie wanted to bite him.

He was so distracted that he didn't realize they had arrived at Steve's room until Steve pushed him down on the bed.

"This was your idea," Steve was saying, as he dug through his dresser. "Don't get mad at me just because I don't want you to hurt yourself by like, tripping over the hem of your pants or something."

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Eddie said. He was really just complaining to complain. It had been hot enough just watching Lucas and Steve play the other day. Wearing whatever Steve picked out for him would be humiliating, but he was humbling himself already by agreeing to play basketball. He might as well wear the appropriate attire.

No matter what Steve put him in, he had to concede it would be better than passing out on the court because he had overheated in his jeans. He had been dripping with sweat just watching Steve and Lucas the other day. If teeny tiny shorts were what one wore to play basketball...well, then Eddie would wear teeny tiny shorts.

"Here," Steve said, turning and handing Eddie a pair of blue shorts with white piping on them. "I know they aren't your preferred color palette, but they're the biggest pair I own."

"Are you calling me fat, Harrington?" Eddie snarked, taking the shorts from Steve's hand. They didn't look like they would be too bad. The inseam was a little longer then the indecent pair that Steve had on, at least.

"Fuck off," Steve had already turned back to the dresser, and was now rifling through a different drawer. "I just thought you wouldn't want your dick poking out of the bottom of your shorts, but maybe I was wrong."

Eddie leered at him. "Nice to know you think about my cock."

The back of Steve's neck flushed dark red, and wasn't that a fun development? Clearly there were other, more productive ways to embarrass Steve that weren't just making fun of his athletic prowess.

Steve turned and flung a shirt at him. "Stop being a terror and go change," he said.

"Sir yes sir," Eddie said, and headed to the bathroom.

Eddie had never felt so exposed in his life. The shorts were...fine. Less embarrassing then Eddie had expected, but still far, far shorter then felt appropriate. But he had known that basketball called for tiny shorts. He had expected it. But the shirt? The shirt was definitely not within uniform regulations. It was an old swim team tee shirt, but Steve had made some alterations to it: he had cut off the sleeves, and then down the sides so that they were open, only barely joined together at the hem. He'd also cut out the collar of the shirt, though Eddie was grateful that he hadn't cut it as low as the shirt Steve himself was wearing.

In the borrowed athletic gear, and without his usual rings, bracelets and other adornments, Eddie barely recognized himself. He looked like a totally different person. It was like trying on a character, he thought. Just for today, he could be Eddie the Athlete. Just for Steve.

Eddie the Athlete was not a success.

Steve had driven them to the court, oddly silent the whole time. He kept stealing glances at Eddie, opening his mouth as if to say something, and then snapping it shut again.

It was weird, and Eddie didn't know how to deal with it. Normally, he would fill the car with prattle, demand that Steve play real music, complain. But this was Steve's day. Max was right, Steve took a lot from them. It was time they balanced it out.

Steve lit up again when they pulled the car into the parking lot besides the court. Heat hung heavy over the park, suppressing everything. It definitely wasn't the best time to start a game, but it was the time they had available, and the time that the least people would be around to see Eddie making a fool of himself. If they had chosen to come to the park in the late afternoon or evening, they would have to vie with others for the court, and that was something neither of them wanted.

Steve led the way onto the court, bouncing the ball the whole way. He was almost bouncing himself, Eddie noticed wryly. He looked so happy to be there, so genuinely overjoyed that he was getting a chance to play.

"What do you know about basketball?" Steve asked, when they made it to the court.

Eddie shoved his hands, which felt naked without his rings, through his hair. "There is a ball and you bounce it and you try to get it through one of the hoops?"

"Close enough," Steve said, grinning. "So this is how you play..."

Steve walked Eddie through the fundamentals of the game. It really wasn't that complicated, he realized, as Steve talked. He hadn't been too far off in his guess.

Furthermore, he was realizing that Steve was a good teacher. A good coach. He had patience for things that Eddie never did when teaching new players DnD, never laughed off a question. He started with the fundamentals, things that Eddie knew Steve had to be taught when he was younger then the kids were now, and he wasn't shy about repositioning Eddie's body so Eddie could understand the postures.

The problem was that with every touch, heat seared through Eddie's skin, a flash of fire that felt like touching a hot pan. Eddie could barely look at Steve, in his barely-there tank top, the outlines of two sharp nipples poking through, without getting distracted. They were in a public park! He had to behave.

He had to focus. He moved up the court, circling Steve in an effort to take the ball from him before Steve made another basket. He currently had two points to Eddie's zero. They were only playing to five points, since just learning the rules of the game and basic skills had taken up the first hour.

Eddie had been surprised at how much fun he'd had, letting Steve move him around the court. For all that he'd never liked sports before, Steve's enthusiasm was apparently contagious, and with just the two of them there, Eddie found himself getting into it more than he had expected to. He wanted to score, wanted to slam that stupid orange ball through the hoop, if only just to see the pleased little grin he knew would appear on Steve's face. In order to do that, though, he needed to get the ball. So he needed to stop thinking about the brush of Steve's hands on his overheated skin, and more about slipping under his arms to steal the ball.

Eddie saw his opening, and he took it, moving back up the court, the ball in hand.

"Hey!" Steve yelled. "No carrying!" Eddy obeyed, and began bouncing the ball (dribbling, he remembered Steve telling him), and made the fatal mistake at turning back to look at Steve, behind him.

Steve's skin shimmered with sweat, but his hair was still flawless. He ducked easily around Eddie — and the ball was gone, back in Steve's hands before Eddie had even noticed Steve was close enough to take it. In a flash, he was back up the court, and with a swish, the ball was going through the net.

"Hey!" Eddie said, feigning annoyance. "What the hell, how was that fair. I had the ball!"

"And I stole it from you," Steve said, grinning. He picked up the ball and propped it on his hip, and Eddie wondered if he'd ever seen something more attractive in his life, and had to push the thought down, because Steve Harrington, playing sports? What was wrong with him? Sweat dripped down Eddie's nose. Heat shimmered off the pavement. Eddie felt on the verge of combustion.

Steve quirked a smile at him, and like someone had turned up the gas on a stove, flame roiled through Eddie.

"Three nil, Munson," Steve said. "You gonna catch up?"

"You bet your ass I am," Eddie growled.

"Get the ball from me, then," Steve said, laughing.

Eddie lunged, stealing the ball, and bounded back down the court, Steve hot on his heels. He pushed his elbows wide like wings, blocking Steve from getting close enough to steal. Just as Steve was reaching around Eddie, Eddie stopped and shot the ball forward, from further back then he would have liked, but still in a range he was reasonably confident he could succeed from. The ball slammed into the back of the hoop...and dropped perfectly through the net.

Eddie was too shocked to move. "What!" he yelled, turning to Steve, who stood next to him, hands on his hips, looking more like a proud mama duck then anything else. "Did you see that?" Eddie whooped

"I saw," Steve said. "Incredible. Now you've only got to make four more to catch up." His brown eyes sparkled. He was loving this.

"I'm going to," Eddie vowed, picking up the ball and bouncing it a few times, and then he shot it again. This time, the ball swished right through the basket cleanly.

"Nothin' but net!" Eddie crowed. "Look at her go."

"You're a real hoot," Steve said. "That doesn't count, that's blatant cheating."

"I got two baskets," Eddie said, protesting.

"Without restarting the game," Steve said, chuckling. "I should have known that Eddie Munson doesn't play by the rules." He softened, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I play by the rules you gave me," Eddie said, trying not to smile. He had made a basket, two baskets. "Don't you think I deserve a reward?" He quirked an eyebrow at Steve.

"A reward?" Steve said. "For scoring two-baskets?" He shook his head solemnly. "I don't know..." He took a step closer to Eddie, crowding into his personal space. Eddie nearly stepped back, but was prevented by Steve fisting his hands in Eddie's shirt.

Then Steve pulled Eddie in, and kissed him.

Eddie dropped the basketball.

"You know," Steve said, smiling against Eddie's mouth. "You didn't have to play basketball to get me to like you."

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, tugging him closer so their bodies were flush against each other. "I know," he said. "But it made you happy."

Steve kissed him again.