Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

In the grand scheme of things, it had almost become a little bit banal; the crazy, world ending situations that Steve had managed to get himself into and actually, watching Vecna getting torn to absolute shreds by what they presumed was El in his own mind was kind of par for the course with his life at that point. Strangely, what was lightyears more exhilarating was seeing the faces of Dustin and Eddie as they booked it like hell out of the Creel house and back towards the trailer. 

That excitement drained like bath water down the plug as soon as they were close enough to realise that Dustin was heaving Eddie with all his might though. His face white and sticky with sweat as he hefted Eddie into his arms towards their combined destination. Steve watched with frantic eyes as Dustin’s smaller frame almost collapsed under the weight of the limp Eddie he had clutched against him.

“Guys! Help!” 

Steve blithely thought to himself, ‘Like there was ever any doubt of them helping.’

It wasn’t the most gruesome or worrying thing he’d seen in his life, not by a far mark. Suckered, blooming bites, and whatever nasty slimy shit the demobats left behind, smeared across Eddie’s torso and somehow, he barely remembered how, they managed to practically toss Eddie’s body up and back into the real world. The gate slithering shut just as Robin landed her ass firmly back into the trailer. From then on, it all was sort of a big blur, all of them working on what little adrenaline their bodies had left and Steve watched almost in an out of body state as Eddie was shoved into the RV. His hand limply falling to his side and something in his gut crumpled as Dustin picked it up and clasped it. 

It wasn’t jealousy, like the type Eddie had admitted to when speaking about the kid. 

It was relief, perhaps.

All Eddie could remember from any of it, post demobat dining, was the soft, fuzzy blur of lights outside as he was whizzed back somewhere . His brain flicking in and out of consciousness as he was vaguely aware that his stomach hurt like fucking hell, but not enough for him to be mentally writing his will. Like someone had repeatedly punched him in the stomach while wearing a spiked set of rings. He touched a weak, shaking hand against where he could feel wet leaking out of him. Blood, he assumed. He pulled it back to gaze at the red and then made a choked noise which was as close to a laugh as he could manage, 

“This would be so cool if it didn’t smart so bad. Like a —a Tom Savini effect.”

Blearily he could see Steve peer down at him, eyebrows furrow and mouth downturned. 

Well. He thought he was being funny at least.

Steve didn’t laugh. Eddie chalked it up to the fact that he probably didn’t know who Savini was, so he let him off. 

“Shit, Harrington. Cheer up, man.”

Then his head lolled back against the couch with a thump, and he was out again.

~

When the land of the living appeared before him again, he had absolutely no idea where he was, but wherever it was had the softest mattress and pillows he’d ever had the joy of passing out in pain and terror against. He cast a glance around the room furtively, not bold enough in any way to try and sit up too far because, ouch . Even with the ridiculous collection of bedding behind him, his body ached like no motherfucker’s business and it was all he could do to leave most of the movement to his eyeballs. Which snapped to the door as it slid open, a strangely sombre looking Steve paced in and, ah , it all made sense. Who else would have the bed set-up of a rich kid other than an actual rich kid. 

“Nice place.” His voice was a little croaky, but after a few ugly clearings of his throat, he added in a voice that sounded a bit more like himself, “A privilege to be in Harrington’s ivory tower, as it were.” 

Steve patently ignored him, “You good?”

He shrugged in return, the movement not as painful as he might have expected and when he glanced down his side was taped and gauzed far too professionally. Though with the things Steve had explained to him about their absolutely insane friendship group, he wasn’t too surprised to put two and two together and realise that maybe Steve was Hawkins' own Florence Nightingale. 

“This your handiwork?” He slid a hand across his middle, “It’s pretty good.” He tipped his voice up just enough that he hoped it sounded as sincere as he wanted it to be, “Thank you. And all.”

The distance Steve kept was a little odd, but Eddie was aware that he smelled pretty terrible, so he let him off for that one. The handful of painkillers that Harrington then deposited onto the bedside table definitely was enough for total forgiveness as well, even if he did then follow the movement up by saying, 

“Not all at once, obviously. I just trust you enough to self-medicate.” 

“God, you’re a doll, huh?” Eddie didn’t know why he said that. 

It was a bit like the ‘big boy’ comment. Sort of just slipped out. 

There was no immediate verbal response from Steve, but the corners of his mouth wobbled for a moment before he allowed himself to smile at Eddie and something flashed across his face before he subtly concealed it with a flick of his eyes down to Eddie’s stomach. It was only then that Eddie realised a key part of the story he’d missed while in the land of Nod. 

“So, who undressed me then? The girls leave that one to you because it’s boys stuff and nothing you haven’t seen before?” 

He enjoyed the way Steve’s ears flushed and he tapped his foot against the pretty, floral carpet of what Eddie could only assume was a guest room. 

“You always make fun of the guy who saves your life and lets you hold up in his house?”

“Weird that you mention it, this is totally the third time this has happened to me. And, yep, yeah, made fun of the last guy too.” 

The short, huffed laugh that came out of Steve at that comment surprised Eddie enough that he almost didn’t believe it had happened until it did. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” Steve slid a glass of water across the side table towards Eddie. No coaster, which surprised Eddie just as much as the laugh. Just a shining, wet stripe that connected the two of them across the wood. “I maybe — and don’t quote me on this — feel a little bad that you’re the only one who got maimed.” 

“What’s a small maiming?” Eddie laced his hands across his middle, careful to not agitate his wounds too much, “If anything, I’ve done well to go this far in life and not get maimed. It was about time. Plus it landed me a cushy nights passing out in this room. Now, would the man of the house know how long I’m supposed to be here?” 

Steve rocked a little on the balls of his feet, “Until we figure out how the fuck we’re going to fix the fact you’re still under suspicion for murder.”

“ Bummer .” Eddie breathed.

“We’re working on it. Got the best minds in Hawkins.” The smile that Steve wound around his sentence made Eddie’s guts do something a little funny. 

“Bet you’re talking about Henderson.” 

“Something like that.”

“You sure I’m okay here?” The way that his voice quavered a little at the end of that made a twinge of embarrassment flicker through Eddie, but it was quickly washed away when Steve tossed him a waning smile, one hand on his hip, 

“Why would Eddie Munson ever be at my house?” 

“You got me. Good point.” 

~

By the second day, as Steve stood in his parent’s kitchen, staring at the blood stained shirt that Eddie had worn into the Upside Down, he got a call from Dustin. As he cradled the phone to his ear, Henderson babbled about the Byers being back, mouth almost moving too fast for Steve to truly comprehend what he was saying, but then another name was thrown into the mix and it made his synapses go off with the possibility of what could be done with Eddie; still tucked up in bed in his guest bedroom. Still classed as a murder suspect. 

Hopper.

Hopper was back. Alive.

Driven by a big, black car. Government, probably.

Fucking government. Higher than Hawkins police and no doubt higher than God if you knew the right people. 

The phone clattered hard against the cradle.

Steve had never booked it so hard over to the cabin before, not even the time that the kids had phoned him at ten thirty at night to say that some weirdo experiment they’d been doing had exploded and they didn’t want Hopper to know and could he come and help them clear it up. It was almost a straight shot from his house, having left Eddie dozing behind him with more painkillers and water propped on the table to his side as he put his foot down and more than likely broke a few speeding regulations just to pull up outside what was left of the cabin. 

The adults, thank God, were all still stood around. Joyce with her hands on her hips and a gaunt looking Hopper off to her side, his arm around a newly sheared El who peered with watery eyes at her father as he spoke about something with a woman in a nearly pressed suit. Short hair and sharp eyes which moved with precision to Steve as he bounded from his car and over towards them. Almost completely ignoring the fact that Hopper was dead to him only fifteen minutes ago and he grabbed the man’s arm, voice tight, 

“I need your help.”

Hopper’s eyebrows flew up his forehead, and the woman next to him’s expression shifted from neutral, to one of puzzlement, and then straight back to neutrality, 

“How many kids are in trouble in this town?” There was something that underlined her tone. Perhaps amusement, especially going on the way that her mouth threatened to twitch up into something reminiscent of a smile.

Steve couldn’t help the reedy laugh that burst from his gullet, “Jeez. You don’t know the half of it.”

~

It wasn’t funny to watch the sickly green cast that washed over Eddie’s face in the wake of a government official sitting opposite him on Steve’s couch, and as the conversation between the four of them went on, the more his hands twisted in his lap. Clammy and sticky against the rough denim of the jeans Steve had leant him, which he’d just about to get on without any help. Despite being thrown into some sort of pseudo-board meeting with a woman he’d never met before and a man he’d thought was burnt up in a fire, he felt better. Or, at least, the painkillers that Steve kept supplying him were working wonders on his aching belly. 

The clock on the wall of the living room wasn’t helping. Its tick-tocking caused a bead of sweat to slick its way from Eddie’s temple to the sharp edge of his jaw, and he flicked it away with a hand that could have been shaking a little but he deemed it unnecessary to think too much about it.

He kept himself polite and courteous to the woman, an echo of his Uncle Wayne running around his head, telling him, ‘Sometimes it’s better to not be a smart ass. Especially when cops are involved.’ Which, honestly, he didn’t entirely agree with. Cops were some of the dumbest people around. But to keep his ass out of prison, doing life for murder? 

He could maybe hold back on wise comments for a moment.

There was also the fact that Steve had done this. He’d dragged this woman in her sleek black car across town to come and save his sorry ass. 

When he looked to Steve across the room, he could almost see his halo. 

Again, that might have been the painkillers though. 

“The fact of the matter —” Steve’s hands were in tight fists on his knees “—Is that he didn’t kill them.”

The woman’s voice was gentle but firm as she replied, “I understand that entirely. I’m just trying to figure out how to do this.” She gave a secretive smile, “I’m also trying to work out who I might need to pay off to get this fixed.”

Hopper cleared his throat, sat in Steve’s father’s chair, “Could always pay me.”

The agent was quick with her retort, “We’re still working on the details of whether you’re still in charge, Jim.” She then smiled, properly this time and in Eddie’ direction, as though she knew exactly who in this room needed some sort of help, “I don’t have kids—”

“I’m twenty.” Eddie jumped in. 

“I don’t have kids—” Stinson continued, “—But it would be damn shitty of me to not at least leverage something here. We’ll work this out. For now, lay low. Is this your place?”

Eddie scoffed, hackles rising at the prospect that he’d ever be awarded the luxury of a place like this, “I live in a trailer.” 

“Perfect. Nobody would suspect you’re here then, correct?” Her head swept over to Steve for a moment before returning to Eddie, “As I said, lay low. My people will contact your people.” 

“I’m—I’m not sure I even have people?” Eddie glanced between Steve, Hopper and the agent. A little baffled. 

“You’ve got me.” The sudden warmth in Hopper’s tone made Eddie’s shoulders rise to his ears, like a strange shock to the system.

He licked his lips, “You don’t even like me. How many times have you busted me for smoking pot?” His hair curled over his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side, eyes fixing on Hopper. Although, it was unlike previous years when he’d had dealings with the Chief, he looked more tired than anything and he watched as Hopper wilted a little back into the chair. Eyes closing for a millisecond, like he desperately needed sleep, and then they flashed back open. The warmth still there.

“Kid, you’ll soon learn that it’s a sort of all for one and one for all bullshit when it comes to everything in this town.” 

“Uh. Yeah. That’s kind of why I’m in this mess. I got Salem’d, man. They were ready to throw me in the fucking lake and see if I floated or not!” 

“He’ll be fine here.” Steve cut in, seemingly tired of Eddie’s postulating, “My parents are away for a couple of months on the other side of the world. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.” 

“Shit, Harrington. My hero!” He waved an imaginary flag, which lowered as soon as he saw Steve roll his eyes.

Hopper stood, with a grunt he obviously tried his best to stifle but failed in doing so, “Watch yourself, boys. And you—” He pointed a finger at Eddie “—Don’t go near the windows and for God’s sake, have a shower. You smell like other dimensional shit.” He paused suddenly, face softening in a way either boy hadn’t remembered it ever doing, and then Hopper’s eyes were lingering on Steve, familiarity flooding in, “Glad you made it.” 

Steve nodded sharply, thinking of El, “You too.”

“Keep me updated.” Then, with that comment, Hopper and Stinson were going. 

Leaving Eddie and Steve alone. 

“You do kinda smell bad.” Steve supplied into the silence of the room, offering Eddie a hand to yank him off the couch and up towards his face where he teetered inches from Steve’s wrinkled nose and downturned eyebrows, “I’ll show you to the bathroom and get you some towels. I’m not helping you wash anything though.” 

Eddie’s lips almost pouted by themselves, “Not even some of my nooks and crannies?”

He still wasn’t sure how to act when Steve laughed at that one too, his eyes scrunching up as he slapped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, almost like they were friends, and remarked with a kind of carefully placed joviality, “I’m not a big nook guy. We’ll think about crannies if you’re still here in a month. How about that, big boy. ” 

It wasn’t until he was freshly showered and tucked back into that ridiculously over the top bed that the thought crossed Eddie’s mind that Steve might have been flirting with him a little bit. 

~

An all over body ache dredged Eddie out of sleep, and when he checked the clock and the fact the blue-ish glow of evening was permeating the room he was in, he realised he’d slept for about twenty one hours. A record, even for him back when he was about fifteen and would sleep all day in the summer, and be up and active at night. Much to the behest of Wayne. 

When the ache that made a course through his body lessened a little, he groaned, cracked his neck, and then was met with something else. 

Hungry. He was absolutely starving. 

It felt a little funny to be creeping downstairs in Harrington’s house, with the hope that rich people had a stocked pantry like he always expected them to. He had visions of huge, sharing bags of chips and dip. Toaster waffles. Branded Pop Tarts, not just the “breakfast toaster squares” he usually ended up getting for himself and his uncle. His stomach lurched painfully as his feet plopped onto the carpet of the hallway, but the joy of a nighttime kitchen raid was sapped away when he turned the corner and came upon Steve idling in the kitchen. Chewing on the side of his thumb with faraway eyes, and when they both caught each other’s gaze, he offered Eddie a weak smile. 

“Thought you might have died.” It was meant as a joke, but to Eddie, it didn’t really sound all too much like one. It was hurriedly followed by, “You also don’t look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a swamp anymore though. That’s good.” 

Eddie couldn’t stop the careening roll of his eyes at that, standing awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to even act in someone else’s house in general; let alone Steve Harringtons. 

Even if he did undress and bandage and tend to him. 

Even if they were at least friendly now. 

Friendly? Or friends. He wasn’t sure when he thought about it actually. 

It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “So, are we friends now? Is this friends?” 

Ah. Way to go Munson. Congrats on forming proper, human sentences, man.

The muted thud of Steve taking a step back was enough to chill Eddie’s insides with mortification at himself. But then, Steve steadied himself on the sink, blinking stupidly at Eddie as he all but stuttered, “I—I guess I can’t see why not.” The hand on the sink went a little tighter, “Be pretty shitty of me to say no to that, right? After everything.”

“After I admitted to you that I’m jealous of you as well.” Eddie’s attempt to alleviate the conversation of awkwardness seemed to work, as Steve’s mouth slid into a smile that had his mouth going dry. He did manage to croak out, “Funny. Right? A funny combo of guys.” 

“My best friends are Robin and Dustin. I’m not King Steve anymore. I am the epitome of just ‘a guy’.” 

“Does that mean I could be in the lineup for third best friend?” Eddie stepped closer, noting that Steve didn’t move away this time. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’m a traditional guy. No kissing on the first date and shit.” He ignored Eddie’s look of incredulity at that to add, “You did save my kid’s ass in the Upside Down though. So you’re up there on the list of people I feel pretty positive about.”

“Your kid?” Eddie’s arms crossed over his chest and a grin wormed its way across his face.

“Oh, come on. You know what I mean. My buddy. My pal.”

“I am absolutely going to tell Henderson you said that.”

In the evening, dimmed light of the kitchen, a sliver of sunlight just about peeking over the top of the horizon to cast a sickly orange glow across Steve, it wasn’t hard to notice the way that the tips of his ears went red again. Matched only by the bridge of his nose as it flushed.

Holy shit, was it ever going to be a ride at Casa Steve if he kept that up.

The topic of Harrington’s brood was clipped short by the man himself, face still a little pink as he angled himself away from Eddie and asked if he wanted to eat. To which Eddie’s stomach made a noise that he could quite possibly emanated from the Upside Down with how ferocious it was, and as he clutched his hands around his middle (carefully), Steve flipped his hair out of his eyes and murmured, 

“Well, I’m no chef. Chinese takeout?” 

Eddie could barely answer with the amount of saliva that flooded his mouth.

~

He ended up hidden in the laundry room, reading the back of a detergent, ignoring the way that his legs shook at the prospect of someone finding him and ratting him out. Steve had suggested it, though neither of them knew exactly why they thought the delivery boy for the local Chinese place would ever see fit to bother to tell police he may have caught a glimpse of Munson the Freak while handing over a plastic bag of noodles and rice. But into the laundry room he went anyway, not emerging until Steve padded over, wrapped on the door with his knuckles and met Eddie with a tight smile,

“Beats the boat house though, right?” 

Eddie had to agree. 

It came as a surprise that Steve had no objections to them laying the food across the floor in the living room, glasses of soda placed directly onto the carpet and Eddie couldn’t help the thought that he always assumed people like Steve probably had it beaten into them that you would never eat on the floor. Tables were for eating. The thought process apparently caught the attention of Steve, maybe it was the way Eddie stared, almost unblinking, at the selection of food in front of them. 

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them. I’ve done worse things in this house.” 

“That’s a loaded statement.” 

Steve shrugged, opening a carton of dumplings, “I’ve gotten good at tidying up after myself so they’d never know. Got good at a few things.” 

“Not cooking, evidently.” 

Steve smirked, “Obviously.” 

“That why you patched me up so good? Mommy and Daddy weren’t there to kiss boo boos?” He got a sour look in return at that, which wiped the smile right off his face, “Sorry. Just kidding.” 

The conversation receded after that, Steve’s eyes downcast and Eddie could have kicked himself. He’d heard about how in highschool Steve would host these parties while his parents were out of town, of course he’d never been invited, not that he expected to be. Even when he had sat next to Steve in two classes during one semester and had even picked up his pencil for him when it had rolled off his desk. He doubted Steve would remember that at all now. 

It had always seemed strange the frequency of those parties though, because he knew neglect. 

Not from Wayne, but he knew it.

You could have everything in the world, a huge house and the respect of a school, but the tangles of comprehension laced together in his mind as he pieced together why Steve might be predisposed to collecting and mommy-ing kids. 

He cleared his throat, raising his glass of soda to his mouth and he took a long sip before he entered into the arena of conversation with a mildly pissed off Harrington again, 

“So, Hop likes you then?” 

The answer came after a long, meandering pause, “I don’t know, honestly. I guess? I did a fair amount of carting his kid around last summer before it all went to shit. He knows me as the babysitter, so I guess he cuts me some slack. Plus, I know his kid can throw cars around with her mind. Maybe it’s good to keep tabs on people like that.”

“Am I gonna meet this magical girl one day?” 

“Not really up to me. But I don’t see why not. She was back with him and the Byers when I got over to the Hopper’s cabin.”

Eddie mused on a thought for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of noodles before he inquired, quite sincerely (enough that it made Steve’s belly warm with affection), “You think she could pick me up with her mind?” 

A laugh bubbled up from that same warmth inside Steve, “I guess. If you pissed her off pretty bad she’d definitely do it.”

“Hey—” Eddie raised those big, brown eyes at Steve, “—You got any good movies?” 

“I work at a video store. I have some stuff.” 

“Loving the short, sweet sentences, Harrington.” Eddie paused, gnawing on a chopstick in a way that made Steve slightly uneasy, “You got work at some point again I guess?” 

“Well, I haven’t been fired yet. Somehow. I think Robin told Keith we both got like…Mega stomach flu and have just been—”

“I’m gonna stop you there, Steve.” Eddie smiled with too many teeth, “I get the idea. So, that means you’ll be leaving me all on my lonesome then.” 

“Tomorrow, ideally.” 

“Oh.” 

Eddie couldn’t comprehend the wave of disappointment that flooded over him at the idea that by tomorrow Steve might be back into the real world, “Yeah. No, that’s cool.” He quickly followed up with, “My main issue, of course, is will I have enough food to survive. Or cigarettes. Or beer. Or entertainment because I’m like a tiger, dude. Gotta throw in a pumpkin full of meat into my enclosure every once in a while or I’ll bite your hand.” 

“Why my hand?” 

“You’re my, like, zoo keeper. Locking me up here.”

Steve pulled a face, “You’re not locked up. It’s just till Hopper says we’re good. I bet he’s at the station right now, trying to argue that his apparent death wasn’t a reason for him to be demoted or whatever.”

“All I’m saying—” Eddie twirled the chopstick around his fingers “—Pumpkin full of meat, man. Enrichment for baby.” 

“Are you baby? Who’s baby?”

It was almost physically healing his wounds, to see Steve bewildered like that. 

“You know, you’re not as cool as I remember people saying you were.” The carton of rice that Eddie had nabbed from the floor lowered in his hand, eyes squinting at Steve until the gaze made him want to squirm a little, “I mean, I’m glad. Of course. It’s just funny to experience your character arc. You should really join our DnD group sometime, I bet you'll be amazing at roleplaying a villain turned hero. Be a—” He smacked his lips thinking about it for a second “—A sexy Tabaxi or something.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“What it means is that I am full of the joys of spring to be living off of Steve Harrington right now. You know, we used to have two classes together, the first time I repeated senior year. I don’t think you knew I even existed, did you.” 

Steve seemed taken aback by that, guilt withering across his face, “I did. You just weren’t in my social circle.” 

“I get that. Not allowed into your orbit, lest I ruin the fun.” 

“It wasn’t like that. Senior year was a little crazy for me, man. It’s when I got roped into all this shit with the kids.” The fact they were sitting in a silent room really bubbled its way around them when Steve paused for a pregnant moment, then stated, “I don’t really need you to tell me I was a douche back then, I’m fully aware. I’m trying to be better.” 

He hadn’t expected the self awareness from Steve. It made Eddie feel a bit bad. 

“Well. Like I said before, you’re a good guy.” He grinned, trying to inject some more lightheartedness into a situation that was all but bereft of it, “I can forgive and forget that you didn’t spare me a glance in highschool.” 

“ I glanced. ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie’s voice pitched up higher than he might have liked as he asked that. What he got in return was a broad silence from Steve and a meeting of their eyes in the middle, that same clock from their discussion earlier ticking away and if Eddie could never have to think about that noise ever again, he would die a happy, happy man. 

He decided to smash through the silence with the question of, “You gonna eat that?” Poking a chopstick at a wonton, to which Steve shook his head and tilted the container towards him like some sort of young man’s peace offering. “Anyway—” Eddie spoke around the food in his mouth “—All I’m saying is that I think me and you might for real be friends if we spent some more time together. If what Dustin has gushed about you is all true.” 

Steve’s stomach twisted into a knot inside him, “You’re going to have to live in my house for God knows how long. We are going to be spending time together.” 

The admittance clung right to the corners of Eddie’s brain and sent a thrill up his spine. He wasn’t sure why.

“This house is big enough that if I wanted to ignore you, I could.” He countered with. 

“You know what I mean, Munson.” 

“Eddie.”

“Huh?”

“I’m your guest. And I’m saying that you don’t have to do the thing of only calling me by my last name. Eddie is fine.” 

Steve blinked, “Oh. Yeah. Cool.” 

“Why did you bring me here anyway?” Eddie shifted to relax back against the couch behind him, bruises littering his skin that became all too visible under the top light of the living room as he stretched out his legs in the basketball shorts Steve had left out for him. “You could have taken me back to my trailer.”

“The cops, man. I—I just made a split second decision.” There was no hiding the gentle shake to Steve’s voice. 

So Eddie merely said, “Then, it was the right one. I think.” He may have pushed a hand out and laid it onto the warm skin of Steve’s thigh if he were any braver, “I guess we’ll see how you deal with me as a houseguest.” He stopped, tucked a piece of his, now not so gummed up with demobat goo, hair behind his ear and confided quietly, “Thanks. For that split second decision. I think you really saved my ass, dude.” 

“It’s all good.” Came the semi-strangled reply, as did the complete ignoring of the way that Eddie peered at him with huge, saucer-like eyes, mouth parted a little. Steve ignored it the best he could. Promise. 

“ Hey. ” 

“What?” Steve replied, almost a whisper.

“You got any spare underwear I can borrow while I’m here? Or any clothes that aren’t—You know—Something a mom would wear?”

Steve exhaled, caught off guard a little, but relieved nevertheless, “I can pick up some stuff. You owe me though. I’ll try and get in contact with your uncle too, let him know you’re not dead in a ditch or in jail.” He patted his hands against his knees, conjuring the ideas of how they might get away with this, “Try and explain enough that he won’t have a heart attack.” 

“Good. Great.” Eddie stood, the freckles on his briefly exposed thighs catching Steve’s eyes for just a brief moment, “Hey, I’ll tidy up. I’m feeling a lot better after my coma sleep earlier, plus you gotta get to bed so you can go to work and keep me happy in my little trophy wife home.” 

There was an honest to God kiss blown at Steve right before Eddie begun to gather their plates and detritus that littered the carpet, and he mashed his own lips together to stop himself from countering with the fact that in any situation, regardless of who was involved, it was 100% him that would be a trophy wife. 

Trophy husband.

Whatever.