Archive of Our Own

When a prickly government lady walks into Eddie’s hospital room, he expects her to ask him to sign some NDAs or offer some hush money on top of their newly commissioned trailer. Or maybe apologize one more time for almost getting him killed.

(Well, first, he expects her to tear Eddie a new one for gulping down a milkshake that most definitely isn’t on the list of meals that the doctors pre-approved for his recovery. He thinks about throwing it in the trashcan before she notices, but it was already hard enough to convince Steve to sneak it into the hospital and he refuses to let it go to waste.)

But the one thing that Eddie doesn’t expect is for her to put him on house arrest.

Turns out that building a cover-up for a series of inexplicable murders takes time, as well as a lot of paperwork. The government thinks it would be a good idea if Eddie lays low until they manage to put a story together, meaning that as soon as the doctors discharge him, Eddie must return to Forest Hills and stay locked up in his trailer until they convince the police and what’s left of the population of Hawkins that he’s innocent. That means no school, no band practice, and certainly no Hellfire Club meetings. 

“For how long?” Eddie asks cautiously. He has a feeling he won’t like the answer.

“A month or two,” the lady says without looking up from her clipboard, not until Eddie starts choking on his milkshake. When she looks up, her expression is pinched. “You’re lucky to even be alive, Mr. Munson, and you’re lucky we’re not keeping you in this hospital room or shipping you to a safe house in another state.” 

Lucky? Eddie wants to say. He’s got forty-three staples on his stomach and chest, half a dozen stitches on his face and a lifetime of nightmares guaranteed. She could be a little more sympathetic, considering it was her people that almost got Eddie killed. 

But he stays quiet. He really doesn’t want to stay here or be shipped somewhere that his uncle or his friends can’t visit. At least this way he gets to be home- a different one, yes, but from what he’s been told, most of Eddie’s stuff was salvaged and his new room looks pretty much the same as the old one. It’s certainly more familiar than these four white walls that have been driving Eddie crazy for two weeks. 

Two weeks. That’s enough for Eddie to feel like climbing the walls and now he has to stay locked up for two more months? Jesus H. Christ, maybe they should’ve left him in the Upside Down. 

“You should be discharged tomorrow,” the prickly lady continues. The news aren’t as exciting now that he knows what awaits him. “We’ll provide transport to the trailer park and we’ll inform you when it’s safe to come out. You’re not to leave the trailer under any circumstances until then. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie grumbles somewhat politely but makes a face at her when she turns her back to him and walks out. 

The next day, Eddie informs the Party that he’s on house arrest until further notice, and the news are met with groans of displeasure and indignation, as well as some swearing that Steve quickly shuts down with stern “language!”

They’ve been taking turns visiting him for the last two weeks, but today they’re all gathered around Eddie’s hospital bed. When Eddie asked how they managed to convince the nurses to let them all in at the same time, Steve waved him off with a smirk. He probably just fluttered his pretty hazel eyes at Eddie’s nurse. He can hardly blame her for folding when he knows just what those doe eyes look like up close. 

“I thought they were going to clear your name,” Robin says from where she’s perched on the arm of one of the chairs. 

“Yeah, but it takes time to fake an asylum break out or whatever story they’re going with. And they need to make sure their cover is airtight so the police can’t come after Eddie,” Nancy explains, putting a gentle hand on Robin’s knee.

Eddie nods. “Right as always, my dearest Wheeler.” 

“It’s not fair, man,” Steve says. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a cute divot between his eyebrows. “They’re the ones who fucked up, why do you have to pay the price?”

The chorus of “language!” coming from the kids makes Eddie chuckle, especially since he literally just scolded them for the same thing. He’s convinced that Steve doesn’t really care if the kids swear, he just enjoys bitching about it. 

Right now, he rolls his eyes and waves them off. 

“It’s not like I have any other choice. Stupid town is still after me, what’s left of it anyway.” Most people had packed up their bags and left Hawkins the day after the earthquake, Jason Carver included, thank God. But even with him gone, there were plenty of people who still blamed Eddie for what happened and wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if they saw him walking around town. “’Sides, Prickly said it’s either this or a safe house in bum-fuck nowhere.”

“Prickly?” Steve asks, cocking an eyebrow. He doesn’t tell Eddie off for swearing- which further proves that he doesn’t care. 

“Government lady. She was, you know, prickly,” Eddie explains and Steve gives him an amused half-smile that makes his stomach swoop so hard he’s worried one of his staples might pop off. 

“At least this way we can visit you,” Dustin says. He’s sitting at the foot of Eddie’s bed, eyes flicking between him and the machines he’s connected to, the ones that monitor his heartbeat and his breathing. He’s looking at them like he expects them to suddenly stop working and Eddie can’t help but feel bad for traumatizing the kid by basically dying in his arms. 

“You better, you little shrimp,” Eddie says, nudging him with his blanket-covered foot. “And you better bring me tubs and tubs of my favorite ice cream.” 

Dustin nods with a toothy smile. “Cherry chocolate.” 

“The best there is.” 

“We have to be careful, guys,” Nancy cuts in. Her face is pinched, clearly she doesn’t enjoy being the serious one, but she knows she has to. “The point of Eddie being locked up is to keep him hidden from the people who want to hurt him. If they see us hanging around the trailer park all the time, they might get suspicious.” 

And it’s true. If they’re going to visit Eddie, which he really hopes they will, they need to be smart about it. 

They all nod in agreement and Nancy smiles, satisfied. 

“Okay, time to let Eddie get some rest before they discharge him. Everyone, say goodbye,” Steve says, pushing himself off the wall to start herding the kids out, too soon for Eddie’s liking. They just got here.

The kids take turns saying their goodbyes. Eddie ruffles Dustin’s hair, gives Max and Lucas a fist bump, and attempts to bow to Erica, but it’s hard when he’s lying on a bed and every inch of his body aches. Before following the kids, Nancy and Robin wave at him and Eddie gives them a two-fingered salute. 

Then it’s just Steve in the room with him. 

“Saving the best for last?” Eddie asks with a grin. 

“Didn’t want the kids to see me give you this,” he says, taking a Snickers bar from his pocket and giving it to Eddie. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Jesus H. Christ, Harrington, you’re lucky I can’t get on one knee or I’d propose to you right now.”

A red flush forms on Steve’s cheeks. “It’s just chocolate, dude.” 

“You know what they gave me for lunch today? More of that gray meatloaf. This,” he takes a bite and sighs happily, “is heaven.” 

Steve lets out something between a snort and a giggle. “I didn’t expect you to have such a sweet tooth.” 

“I’m full of surprises, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, you are,” Steve says with a soft look. So soft that Eddie has focus really hard on not choking on his chocolate-flavored saliva. 

“Why did you bring me this? I had to beg to get you to smuggle in that milkshake.” 

Steve’s pink flush returns. “Oh, I just thought it could be like a good you’re going back home gift, you know?”

Eddie doubts that’s a thing, but he’ll take it. He grins widely at Steve, hoping there isn’t any chocolate staining his teeth. “Well, thanks, man.” 

He expects him to leave after that- the kids are probably waiting for him since he was most likely their ride to the hospital, but instead he lingers, scuffing his foot against the white tiles. 

“They’re, uh. Are they driving you home?” 

“Yeah, Prickly said they’ll send a car. They want to wait until it’s dark so fewer people will see the mysterious black vehicle dropping me off.” 

“Makes sense.” Steve nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It really sucks that you gotta be locked up like that, man.” 

Eddie drops his head back against the pillow. “Tell me about it, I already feel like climbing the walls after two weeks of being here.” 

“At least your trailer is a little bigger than this,” he says, glancing at the small room. “A little bigger than your old one too.” 

“Is it?” Eddie wouldn’t know, he hasn’t seen it, but apparently, Steve has. 

“Oh. Yeah, I, uh, I helped your uncle move your stuff from the old one before they cleared it out.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in his face. “You met Wayne?”

Steve nods shyly. “Someone had to explain what happened to you and it sure wasn’t gonna be that government lady. I didn’t tell him everything though so he’ll probably have a lot of questions for you.” 

Oh, he’ll have questions alright. Eddie knows Uncle Wayne must’ve appreciated getting news about his nephew, but he also must’ve been confused as fuck when Steve Harrington, of all people, was the one to deliver them. One of the first questions he’ll probably ask Eddie will be- since when are you and that Harrington boy friends?  

“Well,” Eddie says, “thanks for that.”

Steve brushes it off. “If anything happened to me I would want someone to tell the people I love.” 

The people I love, not his parents. He probably means Robin and the kids. His real family.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “I hope I never have to return the favor?” 

Steve snorts. “Yeah, me too.” He glances at the door and then back at Eddie with a sigh. “I should probably go, gotta get the kids home.”

“Okay, thanks for stopping by, Stevie.”

He’s halfway through the door when he remembers something. “Your, uh, your uncle has my number so, if you need anything, just give me a call.”

Eddie perks up at that. “Careful, I’m gonna be bored out of my mind, might call you just to entertain myself, pretty boy.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink, but he smiles. “I’m counting on it,” he says and then wiggles his fingers in a wave before leaving the room. 

Eddie fails not to pout when he thinks this will probably be the last time he gets to see Steve for a while. 

1.

It’s been only five days since Eddie left the hospital and he’s already more than a little stir-crazy. 

Even if he spends a lot of time sleeping, both from the exhaustion that seems to have seeped into his bones after the interdimensional hell that he went through and the assortment of meds he was given at the hospital that make him a little woozy, Eddie still finds himself bored out of his mind when he’s awake. So he’s losing it. A little. 

And he’s not the only one. He knows he’s driving Uncle Wayne crazy with his pacing around the trailer, which never lasts long because he goes breathless very easily now and his limp starts bothering after a while, and his whining about how bored he is, which, on the other hand, can easily last hours.

Not that Wayne has said anything about it. Or about anything, really. He’s either satisfied with whatever bullshit explanation Steve gave him or he’s cutting Eddie some slack, not making him talk about what happened and not chewing him out for being annoying. 

Whatever the reason, he doesn’t ask Eddie about his wounds or how he got them. Not even the first time that he helps him change his bandages and he sees the mess that is his nephew’s torso. He just tightens his jaw, and carefully but confidently, wraps clean bandages around it.

Wayne was in the war, it would make sense that he’d be unaffected by the state of Eddie’s body, but he knows that’s not the case. He knows he’s only putting up a front. He knows because he catches the way Wayne looks at him sometimes like he thought he’d never see Eddie again and he’s surprised he’s still here. Or the way his eyes widen in alarm and dart to Eddie’s chest and stomach when he moves too fast, hurting himself. Or the way he hugs Eddie a little too tightly, but always carefully, when he leaves for work. He might not know exactly what happened, but he knows that he’s lucky that Eddie made it out alive. 

The only thing he asks about, as Eddie predicted, is Steve or how he refers to him- that polite Harrington boy. 

He doesn’t ask Eddie about him right away, only after the first time Eddie calls Steve, during his second day back home. The truth is Eddie wanted to call him as soon as he made it back, his fingers itching for the yellow post-it note on their fridge with Steve’s number scribbled on it next to his name and a smiley face that must have been Steve’s doing- his uncle isn’t exactly the smiley face type. Ultimately, he decided that calling him on his first day back would be too desperate.

(He still agonized over it all day, eyeing the post-it note every time he walked by the fridge, and he was grateful when Max showed up after school to keep him company, finally distracting him.)

But the next day, his second day back home, he realized he didn’t need to worry about being too eager to talk to Steve, not when he was clearly waiting for Eddie to call. 

After two rings, he answered the phone with a bored, “Harrington residence.” 

“Why so serious, Stevie?” Eddie said, instead of saying hello like a normal person.

“Eddie?” Steve asked, and his voice no longer sounded bored, he sounded surprised and a little excited.

Eddie started playing with his hair, twirling it around his finger, glad that his uncle was on the couch watching a baseball game and not there to watch Eddie behave like a teenage girl. “Yup, calling from the confines of my enclosure. Hi.” 

Steve chuckled. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s up like, there’s literally nothing to do in this trailer.” 

“It’s been like, two days, Munson, how are you losing your mind already?” 

“Two days and yet no visitors! Well, Max came over yesterday, but she’s mean to me.” 

“She’s mean to everyone,” he said. Then, with a sigh, “Shit, sorry man, with half the town leaving, Keith’s got me covering other people’s shifts and I haven’t had the time to come over.”

He sounded genuinely upset about it and Eddie felt a little bad so he brushed it off. “I know, it’s okay, you have a job, the kids have school, I get it.” He paused, suddenly worried that he caught Steve at a bad time or during one of his few free moments. “I actually wasn’t sure if I should call.”

“You can always call,” Steve said without missing a beat.

A giddy smile took over Eddie’s face. “Okay.”

“Just- be careful. My parents are rarely home, but if they are and one of them answers, you might want to hang up, we wouldn’t want them to-” 

“Send the angry hicks my way. Got it. I’ll just pretend to be a telemarketer and have them hang up on me.” He paused, switching to an annoying high-pitched voice. “Good evening ma’am, may I interest you in one of our brand new ultra vacuums for the amazing price of sixty nine ninety five? If you order now we’ll throw in an extra vacuum because who doesn’t need two of those at home!” He trailed off when Steve started to giggle. 

“That’s almost too convincing,” he says, and his voice sounds like it’s getting further and further away. “I’m thinking about hanging up.” 

“No! Please, Steve, I’m going crazy, I’m driving Uncle Wayne crazy.” 

Steve chuckles. “Okay, okay, I guess I can talk for a bit. Tell me, how’s the new trailer?” 

A bit turned into two hours. During that time, Wayne walked by Eddie a few times and gave him a funny look that Eddie promptly ignored. By the time Steve said he needed to get ready for work, Eddie had sunk into the floor and was leaning against the wall, tired after standing up next to the phone for so long. He never had a good physical condition, but after the Upside Down it was like the Demobats had bitten chunks out of his lungs, the slightest effort left him winded. Even just standing up to hang up the phone and head to the couch was enough to make him breathless.

There, he found Wayne, who gave him another one of those funny looks. “That the Harrington boy?”

“Steve, yeah.” 

“Didn’t know you two were friends.” 

There it was. “Um, it’s a- recent development,” Eddie said, fidgeting with his rings.

“Hm. These phone calls gonn’ be a thing now?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe.” 

“Just make sure you don’t send us to the streets with that phone bill, boy,” he said before going back to the game. Eddie saw a small smile playing on his lips, the only giveaway that his uncle was teasing him. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Eddie didn’t actually expect the calls to become a thing, but they did. The next day, Steve called him after his shift to complain about how excruciatingly boring it was because, apparently, the destruction of half the town had left the people without any interest in watching movies (“Not a single customer in three hours! Three hours, Eddie!) 

They talked for over an hour that day. 

Then, the following day, it was Eddie who called. He waited until Wayne left for his shift so he could twirl the phone cord and kick his feet like a teenage girl in peace. He whined to Steve about his injuries being particularly painful that day. It made Steve go on a rant about how important it was that he took all of his prescription meds in a timely manner, and after Eddie assured him that he was, in fact, being a good boy and taking his antibiotics and pain meds, the Vicodin just wasn’t cutting it today. Steve’s voice softened then and he told him that a warm shower usually helped when his own scars were bothering him. Eddie felt too tired to stand up in the shower in that moment, but he told him he’d try it later. 

Last night, Eddie called Steve on impulse, not really expecting him to answer at half past midnight. He’d woken up screaming from a nightmare, and before he could form a coherent thought, he’d dragged himself out of bed and towards the phone, dialing the now-familiar number. The phone rang a few times, unanswered, and Eddie felt stupid. Of course Steve wouldn’t answer, he was sleeping, and yes, he said that Eddie could call anytime, but he probably didn’t mean literally any time, definitely not half past midnight just because Eddie was a big baby who couldn’t handle a nightmare-

“Hello?”

“Steve,” Eddie breathed in relief, his voice coming out scratchy from screaming. 

“Eddie? Are you okay?” Steve asked, sounding more awake, as well as worried.

“Uh, nightmare,” Eddie mumbled, he pressed his free hand against his eye so hard it hurt. God, he was pathetic. He half-expected Steve to tell him to fuck off, but instead, he sighed and then softly, gently, he said, “Was it the Upside Down?” 

Eddie made a noise that was supposed to mean yes. 

“Was it your first one?” 

He had to clear his throat a few times to speak. “Yeah. At the hospital, they gave me stuff to sleep, so I didn’t really dream or anything and this is the first time Wayne has a night shift since I came back so maybe that's why-”

“Yeah, probably,” Steve said when Eddie trailed off. “I’m sorry, I know how bad they can be. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.”

“Okay, do you want to hear about how Robin poured an entire milkshake all over herself at work today?” 

Eddie chuckled weakly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, it all started ‘cause were fighting over what to pick for movie of the day-” 

He listened to Steve talk and talk until his breathing slowed down and his heart didn’t feel like it was going to explode out of his chest from beating so rapidly. He didn’t realize that he had fallen asleep listening to Steve talk until he woke up on the floor with a terrible crick in his neck, his injuries screaming in pain, and the dial tone ringing out from the phone next to him. 

That was how Wayne found him when he came back from his shift. Something in Eddie’s face, maybe the heavy bags under his eyes or the haunted look from last night’s nightmares, made Wayne decide to keep his mouth shut, simply helping Eddie stand up and move to the couch, where he’s spent the last few hours sulking.

Eddie knows he’s being a pain in the ass, and he feels bad that Wayne has to deal with him after he worked all night, but aside from talking to Steve, Eddie’s night was pretty shitty. First, he dreamed about being eaten alive by hell bats and then he fell asleep on the floor which led to his staples digging painfully into his skin. He thinks he’s allowed to be in a poor mood. 

He also thinks he’s allowed to stay on the couch and make Wayne open the door when someone knocks on it at 10 am, even if, technically, Eddie is closer to it than he is. 

“You expecting someone?” Wayne asks and Eddie replies with a sardonic scoff.

Jesus Christ, his uncle is a saint for putting up with him. 

From his spot on the couch, Eddie can’t see the door, but he can hear the voice of the person who’s on the other side when Wayne opens it. 

And he jolts upright so fast when he hears it that he’s pretty sure one of his staples pops off. 

“Good morning, Mr. Munson, is Eddie home? Um, that’s a stupid question, of course he’s home.” Steve chuckles nervously. Steve. That’s Steve at Eddie’s door. “Is he awake?” 

“He’s awake, son, but I gotta warn you, he’s in a pissy mood today,” Wayne’s gruff voice replies.

“Wayne!” Eddie protests loudly.

“Just telling it like it is,” Wayne throws over his shoulder. “You still wanna come in?” He asks Steve. 

“If that's okay, Mr. Munson.”

God, he’s so polite. Eddie hates that he finds it endearing. 

“Please call me Wayne, son.” 

Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to try and make himself look somewhat decent. Right away, there’s the sound of the door closing and then Wayne walks back into the living space with Steve in tow, looking perfectly put together in his neat polo shirt and blue jeans. 

Eddie is still in his fucking pajamas, for fuck’s sake. 

They stare at each other, Steve with a shy smile and Eddie with a mildly horrified expression when he thinks about what his hair must look like right now. Wayne sends him one of those funny looks, knowing but unreadable at the same time. He clasps Steve’s shoulder, making him jump a little, and says, “Good luck with him. I’ll be outside having a smoke if you boys need me.” Then he leaves them alone.

Steve gives Eddie one of his little waves. “Hey, man.”

“Um, hi. Sorry about him.”

Steve sniggers. “Are you really in a pissy mood?” 

“You would too if you fell asleep on the floor with staples digging on your side,” Eddie mumbles. Shit, maybe he really is in a bad mood. He tries to sound less like he’s going to bite Steve’s head off when he says, “Didn’t have any more nightmares at least, your sweet, angelic voice scared them away.”

Steve flushes a little. “Glad I could help.” He fidgets where he stands and Eddie notices the paper bag in his hand.

“What’s that?” 

“Oh. That’s- breakfast. For you. For us, I got us breakfast before coming here.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in his forehead. “You got me breakfast?” 

Something about the way Eddie asks the question sends Steve into a nervous ramble. “Well, not just you. Me and- and Max too. I had to drive her to her physical therapy appointment and then drop her off and she was hungry, so we stopped by Daisy’s Dinner on the way here and I figured since I would be like, across the street from you that I could bring you something too, so. I hope you like egg sandwiches.”

Eddie blinks at Steve. He vaguely remembers Max talking about her therapy appointment for her hurt leg. They had snapped her out of her trance right before her bone broke, but she still had some nerve and muscle damage that had left her with a limp and a lot of pain, but it was supposed to be reversible with therapy. She didn’t mention that Steve would be the one to drive her, but it made sense that if her mom couldn’t do it then she would ask Hawkins’ best babysitter for a ride. 

Still, Eddie doesn’t understand why Steve would go through the trouble of getting Eddie breakfast. Then again, he’s the nicest guy Eddie knows and maybe that’s enough explanation. 

“I love egg sandwiches,” he says because Steve is still fidgeting with the bag and looking like he’s bracing himself for Eddie to tell him to fuck off and Eddie can’t have that, not when Steve is only being nice. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot if you don’t mind getting it, pick any mug you like.” A few of Wayne’s mugs perished during the earthquake, but there’s still plenty to choose from. 

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, shaking his head with a big smile. He hands the bag over to Eddie. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” 

He watches Steve disappear and hears him rummaging around the kitchen. Meanwhile, he tears away the grease-stained parchment paper wrapped around one of the sandwiches. It’s still warm, and when Eddie takes a bite, he can’t help but groan. 

“Good, huh?” Steve asks, walking into the living space with two mugs of coffee. “This one’s yours,” he says, making sure Eddie sees exactly what mug it is. 

“Hilarious, Harrington,” he says sarcastically, accepting the “Don’t bother me, I’m crabby” mug from a trip he and Uncle Wayne took to Maryland years ago. 

“The crab looks like you,” Steve says with a little smirk, taking a sip from his mug, a white mug with a green cable knit sweater sleeve. Eddie lets out an undignified squeak when he looks down at the moody crab painted on the side of his mug. It does not look like him. “I also put enough sugar on your coffee to give you a toothache.”

Eddie takes a tentative sip and hums happily when it tastes just like he likes, sweet and creamy. “Hm perfect. I forgive you for the mug.” 

Steve snorts, putting his mug on the coffee table in front of them and reaching for his sandwich. “The egg sandwich wasn’t enough?”

Eddie hums. “It is pretty good.” 

“Ronda makes the best egg sandwiches in all of Hawkins.” 

“Who’s Ronda?” Eddie asks through a mouthful of sandwich. 

“She owns the dinner.” 

“Thought it was called Daisy’s Diner.”

“Yeah, but maybe Daisy was the old owner,” Steve shrugs. Eddie wrinkles his nose. “What? Are you saying she should change the diner’s name?” 

It’s Eddie’s turn to shrug. “Or change her name to Daisy,” he says and Steve snorts from his spot next to him. 

Eddie watches him take small careful bites of his sandwich while he wolfs it down almost worryingly. He slows down a little, not wanting to choke.

“I thought about bringing you pancakes ‘cause of your sweet tooth, but I’m glad I didn’t,” Steve says, noticing the enthusiastic way in which he’s eating his breakfast. 

“I probably would’ve inhaled those too.”

Steve sniggers. “Maybe I can bring them next time.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Next time?”

“Well, yeah. If I’m gonna keep, um, taking Max to therapy then I can stop by after, and I don’t know, actually keep you company instead of just on the phone.”

Biting his lip, Eddie says, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“I don’t mind,” Steve says, then pauses. “Do you mind?” 

“Please, I’d be a fool not to want the company of the King of Hawkins.”

“Not much left to be the king of,” Steve says with a grimace.

“That bad?” Eddie asks. He still hasn’t seen what happened to their town because of the earthquake. He’d only heard about it. 

Steve shrugs. “It could’ve been worse.”

“Don’t I know it.” Eddie could’ve died, Vecna could’ve won, the rift could’ve been opened. Yeah, their town was partially destroyed and Eddie’s chest cavity was basically torn open but hey, they stopped the end of the world on time and they lived. 

“At least you don’t have to go to school,” Steve says, getting his attention again. “The brats keep complaining that they literally just saved the world so why are they supposed to learn algebra?” 

“No joke, man, right now I actually miss school,” Eddie says then he stiffens as he thinks of something. “Shit, wait, do you think they’ll hold me back again because I’m missing class? Fuck, I can't be a senior for a fourth time!” He throws himself against the arm of the couch with a dramatic flare and regrets it when his stomach protests. “Ouch.” 

Steve gives him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe we can talk to Prickly about it, or ask Suzy to hack into the school’s system and give you a perfect attendance sheet.” 

“Or we can hope that Higgins wants me out of there so bad that he just lets me graduate anyway,” he says glumly. Steve’s nose scrunches up like he doesn’t think that’ll happen. Eddie groans. “So much for ‘86 being my year.”

“There’s still plenty of time to turn it back around,” Steve says, carefully putting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His tongue slips out to lick at his lips and Eddie’s eyes flicker down to them. 

He can’t help but think that a kiss from Steve Harrington would definitely turn this year around. 

As soon as he thinks it though, Eddie flinches back as if Steve could possibly read his mind. 

Steve frowns, jerking his hand back. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Uh, no, no. I just- my neck hurts from sleeping on the floor,” Eddie says hurriedly, his eyes darting around him looking at everything except Steve. They land on the old TV and he asks, “Do you wanna watch something?”

“Oh sure, do you mind if we watch the replay of last night’s game? I missed it ‘cause of work.”

“You want to watch a basketball game?” Eddie asks, his eye twitching slightly.

“If you don’t mind.” 

And Eddie does. He minds. He’s gone on many a rant about sports and jocks and conformity and he gives Wayne hell every time he tries to watch one with Eddie in the room, but right now all it takes is one look at Steve’s big hazel eyes and he’s done for. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and Steve beams.

And the smile, that goddamn smile. Eddie can’t ignore how dangerous it is- being friends with Steve, Steve being so nice and caring and gorgeous, Eddie being a gay disaster. 

There’s only one way this can end and it’s with Eddie falling for a straight boy and getting his heart broken. 

Maybe he should’ve said yes to that safe house in bum-fuck nowhere, after all. 

2.

Much like the phone calls, breakfast on Saturdays with Steve become a thing. 

He’ll drop Max off and walk over to the Munson’s trailer with two egg sandwiches, and a sweet treat for Eddie. They’ll eat it together, on the couch if Eddie’s wounds are bothering him or on the kitchen table if they’re not. Steve, bless his soul, even brings a bacon and egg sandwich for Wayne once he learns that it’s his favorite, and Wayne will join them as they eat. They’ll talk about sports and the slow-going town reconstruction, Steve will tell them about his job, and the kids, and Eddie will listen attentively because this is the biggest entertainment he gets in his lockdown state. 

Sometimes, the kids will come over, they’ll ride their bikes to Max’s house and sneak to the Munson’s trailer one by one to not raise any suspicions. Nancy also comes over once, and at first, it’s awkward with just her and Eddie in the room, but then Eddie asks her about college and she starts running her mouth in a way that tells him she’s been spending too much time with Buckley. The next time she stops by she brings Buckley with her and Eddie has trouble keeping up with those two together, but he appreciates the company nonetheless. 

Eddie even gets to meet the remaining members of the party- Will and El, as well as Jonathan. Contrary to what other people are doing, the Byers-Hopper family moved back to Hawkins after the earthquake. Eddie doesn’t understand how it was easier for the government to explain Hopper coming back to life than it is to clear Eddie’s name, but at least with Hopper back in the police and up to speed with Eddie’s involvement in everything, he trusts that it won’t be too long now before he can leave his trailer again. 

All in all, Eddie can’t complain. Or well, he can because if there’s one thing that Eddie Munson knows how to do is complain, but he gets at least one visitor every other day and it’s more than what he expected really. 

That doesn’t mean that being cooped up in his trailer isn’t dull, or sometimes, terrifying. 

Talking to Steve on the phone helps but he’s so swamped with work that, more often than not, he’ll miss Eddie’s calls. He always calls back and they talk for a long time but once they hang up, Eddie is back to feeling lonely and a little scared. 

It’s worse on the nights that Wayne works because the trailer is too quiet but too loud at the same time, and on those nights, more often than not, Eddie will end up having nightmares. 

It’s for that very reason that he’s dreading going to sleep tonight- Wayne isn’t home, he’s with his lady, Sheila from Melvald’s, and Eddie is alone with wounds that have been bothering him all day, which only convinces him further that it’ll probably be a hellish night. 

He thinks about calling Steve, but stops himself. They already talked today and Steve mentioned having plans with Henderson later. Eddie tried not to sound too jealous or whiny when he asked about the plans, but he doesn’t know if he succeeded. The last thing he wants is to make Steve feel bad for spending time with the kid. 

In an attempt to put off going to sleep, Eddie puts on The Goonies, hoping that it will keep him up for a while. If the film reminds him of his flock of lost sheepies and brings him comfort- that’s only for him to know. 

He’s halfway through when there’s a knock on the door. Eddie jumps, his heart jackhammering against his ribcage. He’s not expecting anyone- Wayne said to not wait up and Max usually calls before she comes over and everyone else is supposed to think that he’s dead or missing. 

He considers not answering the door, worried that it might be someone looking for him with nefarious purposes, but then he hears the tell-tale crackle of the walkie-talkie he’s kept on his nightstand ever since the Upside Down.

“Eddie, do you copy? Open the door, it’s me, over.” 

Eddie immediately recognizes Dustin’s voice and relaxes. He runs to his room and grabs the walkie before heading for the door. “I copy, you butthead. What are you doing out so late? You shouldn’t be wandering around,” he pulls the door open and finds not only Dustin there but Steve too, “alone. Oh. Hi, Steve.”

“Hi.” Steve waves and Eddie gives him a little smile. 

Henderson clears his throat. “Hello? I’m here too, you know?”

Eddie blinks and lowers his eyes to Dustin. “Hey, buddy.” 

“Hello, Eddie, now that we’ve all said our hellos are you going to let us in or are you waiting for someone to recognize you and call the police?” Dustin says in that tone of his. Eddie rolls his eyes. Entitled little shit. 

He steps aside, sweeping his arm over the entrance with a flourish.  “My lords.” Once they’re inside, he closes the door. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but what are you two doing here?” 

“Bringing you ice cream!” Dustin says, holding up a bag and flashing him a big toothy smile. 

“At 9 pm on a school night?” Eddie asks, eyes darting to Steve, who is standing behind Dustin with his hands on the kid’s shoulders. “Not very responsible of you, babysitter Steve.” 

“You try saying no to this face.”

“Actually,” Dustin jumps in, “this was Steve’s-” 

But Steve all but shoves him towards the kitchen before he can finish. “Go get some spoons, Henderson.” 

Eddie blinks. “You’re staying?” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. “Unless you’d rather we go-”

“No! No uh, you guys can stay. Here, give me that.” He grabs the ice cream, taking one of the tubs out of the bag. He blinks. “Cherry chocolate. My favorite.” 

Dustin sniggers. “Yeah, Steve had to-” 

“Henderson! Spoons!” 

“Okay! Jeez!” Dustin bats Steve’s hands away and drags his feet to the kitchen. 

Eddie watches Steve give an exasperated little shake of his head. He looks a little nervous, but Eddie can’t begin to figure out why. Maybe he’s worried about not getting the kid back home before his curfew. 

“So this was Henderson’s idea?” Eddie asks, playing with the ice cream tub in his hands.

Steve hesitates, his eye twitches a little. “Y-yeah. Kid looked a little sad when we left the movies, said he missed you.” 

Eddie’s heart grows three sizes. God, he loves that kid. “I’m glad he managed to convince you. I’ve missed him too.” 

“Not me?” Steve asks with a little smirk. 

“Stevie, baby, I’ve missed you the mostest,” Eddie says, fluttering his eyelashes. 

Steve lets out a nervous laugh, his cheeks turning pink. At that moment, Dustin comes back. “The spoons, my liege!” He says, bowing dramatically and handing Eddie the spoons. Then he gets distracted by the TV. “You’re watching The Goonies?” 

“Yup.” 

He turns to Steve, pleading eyes out in full force. “Can we watch it, please? Please please please?” 

“I’m already halfway through, bud,” Eddie says.

“Then can we finish it?” He turns his pleading eyes to Eddie. Damn it.

“Uh, ask your mom,” Eddie says, pointing at Steve with one of the spoons.

Steve’s hands find their way to his hips. “Thanks, man,” he says sarcastically. Then he checks his watch and sighs. “I guess we can finish it and I can still get you home on time.” 

“Yes!” Dustin cheers, throwing both of his hands in the air. Then he flops down on the couch, against the armrest. 

Steve motions for Eddie to take the seat next to the kid, leaving him in the middle when Steve takes the other end of the couch, sitting a little closer to Eddie than he probably has to. 

Eddie opens the ice cream and they each grab a spoon as Dustin hits play. 

“I swear the kids have rented this movie like a million times,” Steve says, grabbing a small spoonful of ice cream.

“Have you watched it before?” Eddie asks. 

Dustin shushes them like he hasn’t seen this movie a million times. 

Steve nods. “Took them to the movies to watch it for the first time.” 

“Just how long have you been their babysitter, man?” Eddie asks, amused, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Two or three years?” 

“No wonder you’re so good at it.” 

Steve grimaces. “Except for the fact that I’m letting Henderson have ice cream at 9 pm on a school night.”

Eddie sniggers, muffling the sound against Steve’s shoulder so he doesn’t bother the kid. “Mrs. Henderson will have your head.” 

Steve shakes his head. Then, to make them more comfortable, he lifts his arm to drape it across the back of the couch, around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie grips the spoon so tightly in his hand that he thinks it’s going to snap. 

“Nah, man, she loves me. I’m a hit with the moms.” 

Eddie snorts. “I’m sure you are. No one is immune to that Steve Harrington charm.” 

“No one, huh?” Steve asks, arching an eyebrow and giving Eddie a look that melts his insides a little.

Definitely not me, he thinks. He shoves more ice cream in his mouth to not blurt it out. Then shakes his head. “Not even Uncle Wayne, man, he’s always going on about that polite Harrington boy.”

Steve flushes. “Really?” 

“Yeah, he probably wishes I had your manners.” 

“No, dude, he loves you. I can tell.” Eddie arches an eyebrow at him. “After everything, he plastered fliers of you all over town, and when people vandalized them ‘cause they’re assholes, he replaced them every day. He never gave up looking for you. He was ready to come get you even if he had to break into a secret government hospital.”

Eddie swallows thickly. “I didn’t know he did that.”

Steve nods. “When I came over to tell him what happened he almost sent me away thinking I was here to- to talk shit about you. He never believed you hurt Chrissy or the others.”

Eddie chews on his lip. He has to admit that he wondered if Uncle Wayne ever believed those lies about him. He’s glad to learn that he didn’t. “I- I don’t give a shit what other people think but I guess I was a little worried that Wayne might think-”

“He didn’t. He always believed in you.” Steve’s fingers brush Eddie’s shoulder. He shivers despite the trailer being warm. 

Dustin shushes them again, and Eddie gives him a light shove. 

“It’s more than what I did,” Steve continues.

Eddie blinks up at Steve. He gets a little closer so Henderson doesn’t hear them, no other reason. “You thought I did it?” 

Steve makes a disgruntled face. “Look man, when Max and Dustin showed up and told me that you’d fled the scene where Chrissy showed up dead I- maybe I thought you’d done it, yeah, but that quickly changed after! When I met you!” 

“I’m not mad, Steve. There’s a reason why so many people believed the accusations. I get it.” He pauses, lowers his voice even more. “Did the kid-” 

He doesn’t need to finish the question for Steve to understand. He shakes his head. “Never. He was worried about you, but he didn’t believe you had anything to do with it.” 

Eddie nods. Yeah, he really loves the little pipsqueak. 

“For what is worth, if I’d known you before all of this, I never would’ve believed it either.” 

“Yeah? Did I win you over by almost dying for this shitty town?” Eddie snorts.

“Before that,” Steve says but doesn’t elaborate. 

“Would you look at that?” Eddie says with glee. “Guess Eddie Munson has some charm as well.” 

Steve winks at him. “Oh, he does.”

The wink makes Eddie’s heart stutter in his chest. 

“Your ice cream is melting,” Dustin says then and Eddie glaces down at his lap. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” he repeats, shoving spoonfuls of slowly melting ice cream into his mouth. Dustin chortles, Steve snorts. Eddie can’t help but cringe at the melting ice cream that he can feel dripping down his chin. He glances to his side to check if Steve is watching him behave like he was never taught how to eat properly and finds him staring back. Shit. 

There’s an amused smile playing on his lips as his eyes dart over Eddie’s face. “You’re a mess,” he says with a fond lilt to his voice. Then, with the hand not currently draped over the back of the couch, he reaches out and wipes the ice cream from the corner of Eddie’s mouth with his thumb. Same thumb that he licks clean right after. 

Eddie freezes. His brain short circuits, shuts down, and reboots in the three seconds that it takes for Steve to realize what he just did.

Eddie can only stare at him with eyes big as plates as Steve flushes to the tip of his ears and scrambles to his feet. 

“I’m gonna,” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “wash my hands.” And then, he leaves. For a moment, Eddie thinks he’s gonna walk out of the trailer, but instead, he heads in the direction of the kitchen and Eddie lets out a sigh, slumping against the couch.

“You guys aren’t even paying attention,” Dustin says, but he doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s judging them.

“Sorry kid,” Eddie says, bumping their shoulders together. 

“It’s okay,” he says, bumping it right back. 

“I’ve missed you, buddy. You know that, right?” 

Dustin tears his eyes from the TV and beams at Eddie. “Me too, Eddie,” he says earnestly. Eddie ruffles his hair. “School isn’t the same without you. Hellfire isn’t the same without you.”

“You know, I’m surprised Higgins didn’t shut that shit down.”

Dustin sniggers. “The son of a bitch tried but Max threatened to call her lawyer.” That surprises Eddie and he lets out a hearty laugh. “It didn’t even matter that she isn’t in the club.”

“Thought she didn’t care for Hellfire or D&D.”

“She doesn’t, she still thinks it’s lame, but she said what they did to you was already unfair and that we deserve to keep our stupid club, even if we’re missing our DM.”

Eddie needs to remember to thank Max the next time she comes over. 

“Well, we knew this day would come, I thought it’d be when I finally graduated and not after I was wrongfully accused of murder, but alas, it’s your club now,” Eddie says, giving Henderson a nudge. “Better find some lost sheep of your own.”

Dustin hangs his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. Eddie can’t stand seeing the kid sad so he throws his arm around his shoulder. His side stings with the movement, but he ignores it. “Tell you what, when I’m Eddie The Banished no more, I’ll run one last campaign, the most metal campaign this shitty town has ever seen before I pass the baton to you. How’s that sound?”

“Awesome!” Dustin says, beaming. And not even Eddie giving him a noogie is enough to wipe the grin off his face. 

After that, their attention goes back to the movie. Eddie actually pays attention this time, only getting distracted when Steve flops back onto the couch and wordlessly slides a paper towel to Eddie.

“Thanks,” he whispers, wiping his face and hands. 

Steve smiles and drapes his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. It stays there until the end credits start to roll. 

3.

Eddie knows he hasn’t made Wayne’s life easy. 

Even before he was wanted for murder, disappeared for days and almost died, he was the reason behind half of the gray hairs in Wayne’s beard. 

He was twenty years old, he had no job unless you consider selling weed a job, and he was on his third try to graduate high school. Despite all that, Wayne never let Eddie feel like a burden or like he wasn’t loved or wanted, not once since he showed up at his doorstep at thirteen after his mom died and his old man was sent to prison again. 

Since then, he’s put his uncle through a lot, whether it was his fault or not. But now he’s trying to change, or he will once he’s allowed to leave the trailer. He’ll graduate, he’ll get a job, he’ll save money until he has enough to take Wayne on vacation somewhere nice. He can’t remember the last time Wayne went on a vacation. 

That’s why, when he mentions that Sheila’s birthday is coming up and he’s been saving up to take her somewhere nice for the weekend, Eddie practically shoves him out the door. 

“Not so fast, son. Haven’t even asked her yet.” 

“Then ask her! What are you waiting for?” 

“Wanted to talk to ya first.”

Eddie raises his eyebrow. “Me? What. Do you need my blessing or something?” 

“Or something,” he mumbles as he munches on the mac and cheese they’re having for dinner. “Don’t know how I feel ‘bout leaving you for two days, s’all.” 

“Wayne, I'm twenty, I know how to cook- sort of and I know not to open the door to strangers. I’ll be fine.” 

“What if you need anything? You can’t leave and I ain’t gonna be around to help with your bandages either.” 

“I’ll ask Steve,” Eddie says then backtracks. “I’ll ask him if I need anything. Uh, I can handle the bandages on my own. ‘Sides they’re almost fully healed.” 

Wayne rolls his lips between his teeth. “You sure you’ll be alright?” 

“Yeah, Wayne. I promise.”

His eyes study Eddie for a moment before he nods. “I’ll go call Sheila.” 

The next day, after a quick grocery run, Wayne is packed and ready to go. He hugs Eddie goodbye even if he’s only leaving for two days and then hops on his truck and drives away. 

After he leaves, Eddie doesn't know what to do. He thinks about calling Steve, but before he can, he remembers that he’s at work right now.

If Wayne was here he’d probably be watching some game while Eddie complains that sports are more boring than watching paint dry. But Eddie refuses to sulk or regret sending his uncle off to spend time with his lady. Not when it’s what he deserves.

So he makes himself lunch, fucks around with his guitar, organizes his comic books and his D&D handbooks, and tries not to think about sleeping in a dark empty trailer tonight. 

Several long, painfully slow hours later, Eddie runs out of things to do so he sits on the couch, eating Honeycomb straight from the box and watching cartoons. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, a few pieces of cereal falling on his lap, as he thinks, not for the first time, that his friends should come up with a special knock so that Eddie knows when it’s one of his them at the door and not someone coming to hurt him. He’ll have to tell Dustin to come up with something next time he sees the kid. 

For now, he has no choice but to leave the couch and open the door, hoping that whoever is on the other side doesn’t want to kill him. 

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve says as soon as the door cracks open. The sight of him at his door won’t ever make Eddie feel less than completely shocked. 

“Uh, hello. What- what are you doing here?”

“I’m checking up on you.” When Eddie raises his eyebrow, Steve fidgets a little. “Uh, your uncle! He asked me to check up on you! I ran into him at the grocery store today and he said he was worried about leaving you alone.” 

Eddie groans, letting his face hit the door and shutting his eyes. “Damn it, Wayne. He didn’t- I’m sorry he did that. You really don’t have to check up on me, man.”

“Kinda do now. I promised him I would, and I can’t let your uncle down.”

“Why? You’re already his favorite,” Eddie grumbles.

“And I intend to keep it that way.” Steve grins widely. Eddie wants to punch him. Or maybe kiss him. “So, can I come in?” 

Eddie wishes he could say no. It’s embarrassing that Wayne is making Steve check on him, the last thing he wants is to be a burden to him. But he’s also a weak man with a crush and he hates being alone in this trailer, so he can’t just say no. He steps to the side and lets Steve in. 

“What’s that?” He asks when he notices the bag that Steve is carrying. 

Steve looks down like he forgot he had it too. Immediately, his cheeks start turning a little pink. “Oh, this is for you actually.”

Eddie blinks. “Did my Uncle ask you to get whatever that is too? Because if he did I will kick the old man when he comes back, Jesus.”

“Uh, no. I picked this up myself.”

Curious, Eddie reaches for the bag and when he looks inside he finds a few cassette tapes. “Tapes?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. “New tapes. You told me last time that you were sick of listening to the same music over and over so I picked a few new tapes for you. Don’t worry there’s no pop songs or anything.” He chuckles and it sounds a little nervous to Eddie’s ears. 

“Steve, man, you didn’t need to do that,” Eddie says softly. 

“I know that, I wanted to,” he says simply. 

Eddie fights the sudden urge to pin Steve to the wall and attack him with his mouth. Seriously, he’s just too sweet, it’s driving Eddie crazy. 

“Thanks, Stevie,” he says. “Wish I had a gift for you too.” 

“I don’t need any gifts.” Steve waves him off. Then his stomach grumbles loud enough for both of them to hear. He huffs out a half-laugh. “But I’ll take dinner if you have some. I’m starving.” 

“Um, do you like mac and cheese?” Eddie asks, feeling a little bad about only having leftovers to offer to Steve, but his reply is a big smile. 

He reheats the mac and cheese from last night while Steve picks one of the tapes and plays it. Eddie enjoys the feeling of listening to music for the first time, fingers itching for his guitar so he can learn to play it by ear. It’s always been one of his favorite things to do. The guys from the band always find it impressive- up until Eddie starts getting cocky about it. Then they just find it annoying. 

“The other guys from Hellfire, Gareth and Jeff and Dougie, do they know I’m alive?” Eddie asks suddenly, breaking the silence that they fell into when they sat down to eat. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think they do.”

Eddie nods, staring down at his plate as he moves his mac and cheese around with his spoon, not taking a bite. “Probably better that way. Sinclair said that Jason went after them when he was trying to find me. I don’t want to bring more trouble their way.”

“I’m sure they miss you,” Steve says and knocks his feet against Eddie’s under the table, trying to get his attention. Eddie looks up and finds Steve smiling sweetly at him.

“Yeah, I miss them too. I miss a lot of things.”

“Like what?” He asks, letting his foot rest against Eddie’s instead of dragging it back.

“I miss our gigs, even if we played for an audience of five drunks. I miss driving. I miss weed.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow at the last one so Eddie adds, “Wayne doesn’t like the smell inside the house and I can’t go out to smoke.” Steve nods in understanding. “I miss Hellfire meetings. I miss the kids. I miss the stars.”

“The stars?” Steve asks, cocking his head to one side.

“When we were in the Upside Down, when I was dying,” Eddie pauses to swallow down the panic that rises in his throat whenever he thinks about it, even now. He feels Steve’s foot press harder against his, grounding him. “When I laid there with Dustin, I was looking at the sky and I kept trying to find the stars ‘cause I wanted- I wanted to see the stars one last time before I died.” Steve is watching with a pained expression, probably thinking about when he found Eddie like that, so close to dying. “But the Upside Down has no stars. It’s just darkness.” Maybe that’s why Eddie hates the darkness so much now, why he sleeps with a nightlight like a three-year-old, because the darkness reminds him of the Upside Down and how he almost died there. “I still haven’t seen them. The stars. You couldn’t see the sky from the hospital, and of fucking course, the night they brought me here, it was cloudy as shit and you couldn’t see anything.”

“The sky is clear tonight,” Steve says, speaking for the first time. 

“What?”

“The sky is clear, you can see the stars.”

Eddie scoffs. “Too bad I can’t leave this shitty trailer.”

Steve bites his lip, thinking. Then he abruptly stands up. “Come on.”

“What?”

“We’re going outside.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Steve, I can’t go outside.” You’re not to leave the trailer under any circumstances until then, were Prickly’s words. Eddie doubts that a pretty boy asking him to go outside with him constitutes an exception.

“No one has to know and it’s late, no one will see you,” Steve insists. He offers his hand to Eddie. “You deserve to see the stars, Eds.”

Eddie bites his lip, considers Steve’s hand for a moment before reaching out to take it. “Okay.”

Steve guides him to the door, but right before stepping through it, he pauses. Eddie thinks that he came to his senses, realized that this was a bad idea and changed his mind. But when he turns around, he’s grinning.  

“Get your lunch box,” he says. 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“You said you miss weed but your uncle doesn’t like the smell, we’re going outside,” he explains his train of thought. “Two birds, one stone.” He chuckles. “Get it? Stone?”

A laugh tumbles past Eddie’s lips. “You, Steve Harrington, are a dork,” he says, then runs to his bedroom to find his lunchbox. 

Outside, Steve guides them around the trailer before swiftly climbing to the roof and offering his hand to Eddie again so he can climb up too. 

Eddie rolls them a joint and Steve helps him light it up, holding the lighter to the tip, the other end hanging between Eddie’s lips. The first drag feels familiar despite how long it’s been and that feeling settles something inside Eddie. He blows out the smoke mixed in with a sigh of relief. 

He hands the joint to Steve, who places it between his lips, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s as he takes a drag. It’s Eddie who breaks their eye contact, glancing down at Steve’s lips just as he breathes out the smoke. 

He quickly agrees when Steve suggests that they lay down, otherwise he knows he’ll have a hard time keeping his eyes off Steve’s lips. They spread out on their backs, pressed shoulder to shoulder, and when Eddie finally glances to the sky, his breath leaves him in a whoosh.  

“Oh.”

“Beautiful, huh?” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, his eyes never leaving the sky. 

Before the Upside Down, Eddie never spent a lot of time watching the stars. When he was there, bleeding out, listening to Dustin sob and tell him that he would live, that he would make it, that ‘86 was his year, Eddie regretted never paying more attention to it because in that moment he couldn’t remember it clearly enough. So now he looks at it, hard, trying to memorize it, burn it into his memory so that he can always remember it even in the darkest of times. 

They lay there in silence, their heads pillowed on their folded arms, ankles crossed while they pass the joint back and forth a few times, their eyes never leaving the inky black sky. 

The joint is mostly gone when Eddie speaks again. 

“Thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Hm? For the weed? Or the view?” Steve asks, and he sounds a little floaty. Eddie isn’t surprised, his stuff is strong, even he is starting to feel it,  especially after so long without it. 

“Neither. Both. But I meant thank you for saving my life.”

Steve turns his head to look at Eddie and he does the same. Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.

“I never thanked you for dragging me out of there, for not- not leaving me. I would’ve left me, man, I thought I was done for. I thought I was going to die there. It would’ve been easier for you to just leave me behind, but you didn’t.”

“I never would’ve left you,” Steve says quietly, still frowning slightly. “Even if you died, I would’ve carried you back. You don’t belong in that place, Eddie, and I wasn’t going to leave you there.” 

A fuzzy feeling spreads through Eddie’s body, one that might have something to do with the weed, but probably has more to do with Steve’s words and how sincere he sounds. 

“You, Steve Harrington, are a real life hero. All noble and shit. My knight in shining-” he pauses, looking down at Steve’s chest. He giggles. “My knight in a shining polo shirt.” Shit, maybe Eddie smoked a little too much and a little too quickly. 

“Oh my God, you’re stoned,” Steve says, but he’s giggling too. “How are you stoned? This is your shit.”

“I haven’t tried it in almost two months, man, leave me aloneeee,” he says, stretching the word. 

“I think it’s time to get you back inside,” Steve says, sitting up and looking down at Eddie.

“Hm, probably,” Eddie agrees with a sigh. “Gotta change my bandages.” 

“And I should probably go home,” Steve says just as Eddie pushes himself into a sitting position. 

Eddie bumps their shoulders together. “Dude, you’ve been smoking for the last hour, you’re not driving home, you can stay on the couch.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie bumps their shoulders again. He can’t help himself, he likes touching Steve. “You look out for me, I look out for you ‘cause that’s what friends do.” He pauses and then giggles again. “Hey, that rhymed.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re done, Eds, come on,” he says through a fond chuckle. Eds. Steve hasn’t called him that before tonight. He likes it. 

Steve helps him down from the trailer and guides him back inside by his hand like Eddie will lose his way in the dark if he lets go. Eddie’s fingers are tingling and he doesn’t know if it’s the weed or Steve’s touch.

Right before they go in, Eddie stops, staring up at the sky one last time. The stars blink at him like a reminder that he’s alive, that he made it out, that his friends saved him and those same friends stuck around, and he’s not alone anymore.

When he looks down, back at Steve, he swears he can still see the stars shining in his eyes.

Though that might just be the weed. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, squeezing his hand. 

“Yeah, Stevie, I am.” 

And for the first time since Chrissy, since the Upside Down, since they locked him up inside this trailer, Eddie finds that he means it. 

4.

Eddie writes a few notes down in his notebook before immediately crossing them out. He puts the pencil in his mouth and grabs his guitar again, playing the melody he’s been trying to figure out for the past hour. 

After a few more tries, he hears a knock on his door. 

“Come in,” he mumbles, the pencil still hanging from his lips. He doesn’t look up, fiddling with his guitar some more, thinking that it’s probably just Wayne wanting to ask what he wants for dinner.

“That sounds nice,” a voice that’s decidedly not Wayne’s says.

Eddie’s eyes snap up, the pencil falling from his lips when he sees Steve standing there in his room.

“Uh. Thanks, Stevie. How did you get in?”

Steve shrugs. “The window, of course. You know me, stealthy like a ninja.” 

Eddie snorts. “Sure you are, big boy.”

“Your uncle let me in,” Steve says. “He said you’d be in here.”

“Well, you found me.”

Steve’s eyes dart over Eddie, they come to a stop on his hair. “Your hair is up.”

Eddie blinks. One hand instinctively goes to the back of his head, where his hair is tied into a messy bun. “Oh, yeah it is. Easier to play that way.”

“I like it,” Steve says softly. Eddie blinks a few times, his ears turning pink. Before he can find his voice to thank Steve, he points at the guitar, fidgeting a little. “What were you playing just now?”

“Just something new that I’m working on so when I make my big comeback, the band doesn’t think I’ve been lazing around,” Eddie says bitterly.

“No news from Prickly yet?”

Eddie levels him with a look through his bangs. “Do you think I’d be here, fucking with my guitar, if I’d heard from her?”

Hanging a hand from his neck, Steve says, “Yeah, fair.”

“What about you? Where are you headed looking so snazzy? Are you meeting some lucky girl?” Eddie asks with an eyebrow waggle.

Steve scuffs his feet against the floor, blushing slightly. 

Eddie regrets his words, he regrets speaking them into existence because Steve looks nervous, and embarrassed like Eddie is right, but he doesn’t want to be right.

Don’t say yes, don’t say yes, Eddie thinks. 

“Just Robin,” Steve finally says and Eddie relaxes. “I- I was heading to her house for a movie night.”

“And you thought you’d stop by and say hi to little ol’ me?” 

Steve bites his lip. “Actually, she- uh, called to cancel because her parents called for a family dinner, and since I was ready, I thought I could come here and we could have a movie night ourselves,” he explains. “Unless you’re too busy with your sweetheart,” he adds with a soft chuckle.

Eddie grins, placing the guitar on his bed. “Never too busy for my other sweetheart.”

Steve goes red in the face. “Come on then, Munson.”

Eddie pushes himself from the bed and follows Steve to the trailer’s living space. Wayne is there, sitting on his armchair, reading a book. He looks up, glancing at them over his reading glasses.

“You leaving already, son?”

“Actually, Steve’s staying, we’re gonna watch some movies,” Eddie says, twirling some hair around his finger and tugging it over his face. 

Wayne looks between the two with an unreadable expression but luckily doesn’t say anything other than, “I’ll leave you to it then. There’s some Jiffy Pop in the kitchen if you boys want.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson, sorry- Wayne,” Steve replies. 

Wayne leaves through the kitchen and Eddie leans into Steve’s space. “I told you you’re his favorite, Wayne’s Jiffy Pop stash is sacred to him.” 

“Shut up.” Steve shoves him lightly.

“It’s true, I have to beg him to let me have some, sometimes he even hides it from me.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but there’s a pleased smile teasing at his lips. “Should I start the movie and you make the popcorn?”

“You got it, Stevie.” He winks exaggeratedly. “Be back in a jiff.”

Shaking his head, Steve snorts. “You dork.”

Eddie finds Wayne in the kitchen instead of his bedroom where he said he’d go. He gives Eddie a look as he starts looking for the popcorn.

“If ya told me he was coming over, I would’ve cleared out,” he says after a while. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide, he splutters a few times before getting any words out. “Do I look like I knew he was coming over?” He gestures at his old plaid pajama pants, the Dio shirt with holes around his collar and the hairs sticking out from his bun. “Thanks for the heads-up, by the way, sending him into my room like that,” he grumbles, shaking his head, a few more curls coming loose and falling over his face. “‘Sides, it’s not- it’s not like that.” 

“Boy dressed up quite nice just to come here,” he says with a shrug. 

“He wasn’t coming here in the first place, his plans got canceled!” 

Wayne lets out a snort. “Sure, son, just keep it down, will ya? I got a shift soon. After that, you and your boy can do whatever.” 

“He’s not my boy,” Eddie groans, his cheeks going red despite his words. 

He gives Eddie another look but doesn’t push it. “Popcorn’s behind the cereal,” he tells him, ending his search for the new hiding place. Then, he turns around and actually goes to his room this time. 

Eddie busies himself turning on the stove, waiting for it to heat up a little before putting the pan on top of it, shaking it when it starts to sizzle. All the while, he tries not to think about Wayne’s words or about Steve, waiting for him on the couch, looking so pretty in that white shirt with blue and yellow striped sleeves that hug his toned arms, and those blue jeans that are tight in all the right places, and his hair. Eddie never wanted to run his fingers through someone’s hair so badly, to mess it up as he-

Pop, pop, pop!

Popcorn kernels start flying outside of the foil after Eddie lets himself get distracted by his thoughts and leaves the pan on the stove for too long. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” He swears, turning off the stove and frantically looking for a bowl where he dumps the popcorn. He throws a few into his mouth- at least they’re not burnt. 

He grabs a couple of beers and heads back to the living space. Steve is sitting on the couch, nervously wringing his hands together. The movie is already on, paused in the title sequence. Eddie gasps when he reads the name. 

“Labyrinth?” He asks, surprised. He expected to have to push through a silly romcom- the kind that Steve insists Robin is the only one to like but he secretly loves too- since these are supposed to be their movie night selections. This movie is more Eddie’s speed. “You and Buckley were gonna watch this?” 

Steve shrugs. “Yeah? We both like Bowie,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. Eddie doesn’t push.

“Well, Buckey’s loss is my gain,” he says, flopping down on the couch next to Steve, slightly closer to him than he has to, but it’s easier that way since they have to share the popcorn. Yeah, that’s why. “Alright, play it, Stevie.”

The movie starts and they both get sucked into the story, the only thing that manages to distract Eddie is the way Steve keeps touching him. Their fingers brush every time they reach for the popcorn, and when they finish it and Eddie puts the bowl away, Steve drapes his arm on the back of the couch, around Eddie’s shoulders. Halfway through the movie, his fingers start absently playing with the hairs sticking out from Eddie’s bun, occasionally brushing and tickling his neck. 

“I’m gonna have nightmares about these goblins, man, they’re so ugly,” Steve says casually, completely unaware of what his fingers are doing to Eddie. 

They’re probably the ones to blame for Eddie’s knee-jerk childish response. “You’re ugly.”

Steve scoffs. Then he curls some of Eddie’s hair around his finger and tugs. “Brat.”

Eddie bites down on his tongue so hard tears spring to his eyes, but it’s either that or moaning out loud so he has no choice but to suck it up.

“The Demobats were uglier, nasty little shits,” he says after a moment, hoping that Steve doesn’t notice the slight shake of his voice. 

Steve hums in agreement. “Are you still having nightmares?” He asks softly. He’s still playing with Eddie’s hair, but luckily, doesn’t tug again. 

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits. “Sometimes. It’s not always Demobats, sometimes I see Chrissy. Those are the worst ones. When it’s the Demobats, I feel them biting and ripping at me, but when I wake up the pain is mostly gone ‘cause the scars don’t hurt all that much anymore. But when it’s Chrissy- I wake up and she’s still dead.” 

Steve stays silent for a moment, then his arm leaves the back of the couch and wraps fully around Eddie’s shoulders. “There’s nothing you could’ve done to save Chrissy,” Steve says softly. “But you did everything you could to save Max and anyone else that Vecna could’ve targeted and this whole town. I’m not saying you can’t feel bad about her but you can’t blame yourself for what happened, especially not after you made Vecna pay.” 

“That was you, hotshot.”

Steve shakes his head. “It was a team effort,” he says, squeezing his shoulder. 

Eddie bites his lip, thinking a question over in his head. “Do you get nightmares?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says in a bitter tone. “Demogorgons, Russians, Vecna. Take your pick. Just yesterday I woke up ‘cause I couldn’t breathe, I swear I could feel that Demobat tail wrapped around my neck.”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, his eyes flicking to the fading scar on Steve’s neck, partly hidden by the collar of his shirt. He knows that the shirt hides more scars, ones that match Eddie’s. “You and I make for a really fucked-up pair, don’t we, Harrington?” 

Steve’s eyes meet his and they soften. “At least we have each other, Munson.”

They stare at each other for a little too long. Eddie’s tongue licks over his lips nervously, tasting salt from the popcorn. Steve’s eyes flick down for a split second before they’re both jumping apart when they hear Wayne’s bedroom door shut loudly. 

Then there’s the sound of his boots against the floor, and just in case he wasn’t loud enough, he clears his throat before coming into the living space. Seriously, what exactly is he afraid that he’s going to walk into? Actually, Eddie tries not to entertain that thought. 

“‘M heading off to work, boys,” Wayne says, grabbing his hat from the coat rack and putting it on. 

“Bye, Uncle Wayne.”

He gives Eddie another one of his looks when he tells them to have fun and Eddie resists the urge to flip him the bird. 

“Have a good shift, sir,” Steve says and Wayne tips his hat at him before leaving the trailer. 

Eddie turns to Steve, crowding him against the armrest and saying in a mocking voice, “Have a good shift, sir.”

Steve scoffs indignantly. “I don’t sound like that!”

“You’re just so polite, aren’t you, Stevie?” Eddie teases, pinching his cheek. Steve pushes him off, but he’s laughing. 

“Watch the movie, you asshole!”

“Asshole? That’s not very polite of you,” Eddie says with a pout. Steve’s eyes flick momentarily to his lips again before going back to the TV. 

“You’re so annoying,” he says fondly and Eddie sniggers, turning back to the TV too. 

They finish Labyrinth and then Eddie does have to push through a silly romcom, but he doesn’t actually mind, he just pretends that he does. 

Steve claims that it’s one of Robin’s picks, but Eddie suspects that it’s not true. Steve seems overly invested despite already knowing everything that happens, and Eddie teases him endlessly about how his bad taste extends to movies and not just music.

By the time the second movie is over it’s late so Eddie offers the couch to Steve. They set it up together and Eddie has a hard time peeling himself from Steve’s presence to go into his room, but he’s got an early shift tomorrow and it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up longer.

Besides, he’s pretty sure he’s safe for the night, he rarely gets nightmares when there’s someone else in the trailer these days. 

Or so he thinks. 

Maybe talking to Steve about the nightmares brought those thoughts to the surface because not even an hour after they go to sleep, Eddie wakes up thrashing and crying in his bed. 

He jolts upright and tries to slow down his breathing, the tears keep falling from his eyes but at least they do so silently the more he calms down. 

Just like earlier today, there’s a soft knock on his door and it’s Steve who opens it when Eddie tells him to come in with a shaky voice. 

For a moment, Eddie is confused to see him there, but then he remembers that he slept over. And Eddie most likely just woke him up. Shit. 

“Fuck, Steve, sorry. Did I wake you?” He asks, running his hand anxiously through the mess that is his hair. It gets tangled in the knots that no doubt came from all the thrashing around, so he lets it fall limply to his lap. 

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, you didn’t. I’ve been tossing and turning for like, an hour.” He studies Eddie, taking in the shaky hands and the sweat matting his hair to his forehead. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Eddie snorts. “Pretty far from it, man.”

Steve fidgets by the door. The nightlight that Eddie keeps on allows him to see Steve despite the lights from the hallway and his bedroom being off, and he wishes the circumstances were different so he could appreciate the way Steve looks in his sleeping clothes- Eddie’s sleeping clothes. The Black Sabbath shirt he lent him is so stretched out that it’s loose even on Steve and it almost fully covers the old shorts that Eddie found in the back of his closet. He looks soft and adorable, and Eddie’s nightmare-rattled brain also thinks that he looks like belongs in Eddie’s clothes- and also in Eddie’s bed with him. 

That’s probably why, when Steve asks if he should go, Eddie finds himself blurting out a request that he’d never dare to make in the light of day. “Actually, can you- can you stay here? With me?”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but before Eddie can take it back or duck under the blankets to hide, his eyes soften and he nods. “Yeah, I can do that,” he says and walks over to the right side of the bed, lifting the covers and sliding under them. Eddie stays completely still, worried that he’ll spook Steve if he moves and accidentally touches him and it’ll make him leave. “That couch is shit anyway.” 

A wet laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips and it reminds him that he woke up crying. He wipes at his face in embarrassment, but it’s probably too late and Steve already saw the tear tracks on his face and probably thinks Eddie is a big baby-

Except this is Steve and Steve gets it. He gets the nightmares, he gets why Eddie keeps a nightlight on, he gets why Eddie calls him after, why he asked him to stay. He gets Eddie. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, and then there are fingers wrapping around the hand wiping furiously at his face. He guides it to the space between them, forcing Eddie to copy Steve’s position- on his side, facing him. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He squeezes Eddie’s wrist. Their faces are so close that Eddie can count all of the tiny moles and freckles scattered across his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his eye. He wants to trace them with his fingers, with his lips. His fingers twitch against the bed with how much he wants it. “Go to sleep, Eds.”

“You should too, Stevie.” 

“I’m right behind you.” Steve smiles, starts rubbing soothing circles with his thumb over Eddie’s pulse point. 

Eddie focuses on that and on Steve’s breathing, and together, they lull him to a dreamless sleep.  

He doesn’t wake up again that night. Not even when Steve sticks a post-it note to his forehead, to make sure that Eddie sees it when he wakes up. 

Miraculously, it’s still there when Eddie rises from his slumber, despite how much he moves around when he sleeps. It’s a simple note: ‘had to get to work. you drool in your sleep. x steve’  

Nothing Eddie doesn’t already know, but he finds it sweet that Steve went through the trouble of writing it down so that Eddie wouldn’t be confused as to why he woke up alone. He spends an embarrassingly long time in his bed, reading the note over and over again, entertaining the thought of what it would be like to get more notes like this from Steve if they shared a bed again and he had to leave early. 

Eventually, his stomach grumbles and he’s forced to leave the note on the bedside table and head to the kitchen. Wayne is sitting on the table, Garfield mug in one hand and the Hawkins Post in the other.

He mumbles a “good morning” to his uncle and heads for the coffee pot, but instead of Wayne’s usual gruff “mornin’, son” he says, “I ran into the Harrington boy this morning.”

Some of Eddie’s coffee spills, he mutters a string of curses as he wipes it with a paper towel before it drips to the floor. He catches Wayne’s eye and tries to put on a clueless face. “Uh really? Where?” He asks, hoping that he means he ran into Steve somewhere in town before Steve’s shift. 

“Right here in this kitchen, kid,” Wayne says with a hint of amusement. “Jus’ as he was leaving.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was late by the time the movie ended so he spent the night on the couch,” he says, hoping to sound casual. 

All of that flies out of the window when Wayne says, “Ain’t nobody sleeping on that couch when I came in. I saw him coming out of your room.” 

Oh.

Eddie scrambles for something to say, but comes up with nothing. 

“What you and your boy get up to ain’t none of my business, kid, just be safe,” he says after he sips some coffee. 

Eddie makes a strangled sound. “We’re not ‘getting up to’ anything, Uncle Wayne, Jesus Christ. We’re friends!” 

“Just saying, kid.” 

“Yeah well,” he waves his hands wildly. “Don’t say anything!” 

Wayne gives a shrug, going back to his paper, or at least pretending to, because then he says. “Might wanna hide that love bite on your neck next time.”

And god dammit. Eddie falls for it. He knows there’s nothing there, but his hand still flies to his neck, towards a love bite that doesn’t exist. Wayne raises a knowing eyebrow at him before taking a sip of coffee, which does nothing to hide the way the corners of his mouth twitch up. 

Eddie’s face feels like it’s about to burst into flames. “I hate you, old man.” 

Wayne simply hums. 

5.

Eddie steps out of the bathroom after a quick shower, a towel hanging from his hips while he uses another one to dry his hair. Instead of heading to his bedroom, he pads down the hallway in the opposite direction, where he can hear some country folk song playing through the staticky radio that his uncle keeps next to his armchair.

“Hey Wayne, we’re almost out of shampoo,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s toweling his hair until there’s a high-pitched yelp that couldn’t have come from Wayne. 

His eyes nearly bulge out of his face when he sees that Wayne is no longer on the armchair watching Bonanza reruns like he was when Eddie said he’d wash up for lunch. He’s standing in the middle of the room. And Steve is right next to him. “Oh shit.”

Eddie drops the towel- luckily the one he was using on his head and not the one on his hips- blinking at Steve, who stands there with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on his face, which is so red it almost matches the sweater that he’s wearing. 

“Uh, Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s jaw works as he opens and closes it a few times while his eyes shamelessly roam over Eddie’s body, from his hips to his chest to his neck and then back down again, his face somehow turning an even brighter shade of red. 

“Boy was ‘bout to tell me when you decided to give ‘im a free show,” Wayne says, reminding Eddie that he’s there. He glances at him and finds the old man trying not to grin. He clearly is getting a kick out of this. Bastard. 

Wayne’s voice also brings Steve out of his reverie and he averts his eyes from Eddie, staring down at the tray he’s holding in his hands instead. 

“I- Brownies! Mrs. Henderson sent over some brownies for you both, so I’m dropping them off, but I should probably go-” He starts frantically looking for a place to put the brownies so he can flee. Eddie’s never seen Steve so nervous, not even when they were preparing for battle against Vecna and all because Eddie is shirtless? Maybe it’s the scars that are making him jumpy. They’re much better now, but they’re still pink and a little raw around the edges. Maybe they remind Steve of his own scars.  

“Hold up, kid,” Wayne says, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder and stopping his fidgeting. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Um, no I just-”

But Wayne doesn’t let him finish. “Then you can stay for lunch. And then we’ll have some of your brownies.”

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “They’re not- they’re not really mine, and I don’t want to intrude.”

“You ain’t, right Ed?”

“Uh, no,” Eddie says and Steve relaxes slightly. 

“Come on, son, you can help heat up leftovers while our boy throws on some clothes.” 

Our boy. Eddie is going to strangle Wayne with his towel. 

Luckily, Steve doesn’t pay it any mind and he nods, letting Wayne guide him toward the kitchen until it’s just Eddie in the living space with a towel around his waist. 

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters and heads to his bedroom to put on some clothes. 

Lately, he’s given up on wearing jeans since there’s really no reason for him to do it, but knowing that Steve is here, and having seen him in his neat red sweater and trademark blue jeans, Eddie doesn’t feel like wearing sweatpants or shorts so he ends up in a Hellfire shirt and ripped jeans. When he walks into the kitchen, he finds his uncle and Steve chatting about last night’s game while setting up the table. Eddie leans against the doorway, partly so he doesn’t have to help and partly to take it in- the familiarity in which Steve moves around his kitchen, talks with Eddie’s uncle, like he belongs there. 

Steve notices him first. His eyes dart to Eddie’s chest for a split second, like he’s remembering how it looked bare just a few minutes ago, before he catches himself and focuses on filling their glasses up with water. The flush in his cheeks is significantly fainter this time, but it’s still there. 

“Don’t just stand there, you slouch,” Steve says, trying to sound stern, but it’s downplayed by the smile teasing at his lips. 

Eddie grins widely at him. “You and Wayne seem to have it under control, sweetheart.” 

Wayne arches an eyebrow that Steve doesn’t see. He’s too busy using a rag to clean up the water he spilled when Eddie called him that. Eddie does see it, but he decides to ignore it. 

“I’ll just take care of the dishes later,” he says, taking a seat just as Wayne places a bowl full of last night’s pasta in front of him. 

He dives right in. Wayne simply shakes his head at the way he shoves a forkful into his mouth before he and Steve even sit down. Steve gives him a disapproving look. “Seriously, Eddie, were you raised by animals?” He asks as a joke, his mouth acting a little quicker than his brain. His eyes go wide the second it slips out.

Eddie grins wickedly, clutches at his heart, eyes wide in faux shock. “Are you calling my dear uncle an animal, Steven?” 

Steve’s eyes widen even more. “That’s not what I meant!” He says, glancing at Wayne with his cheeks tinted pink. 

But Wayne gives a hearty laugh, throwing his head back, and Steve relaxes, letting out a chuckle himself. 

“Maybe you can teach him some manners,” he tells Steve, “I’ve tried, but it ain’t sticking.”

“I don’t know, I’ve been trying to teach Dustin manners for years with no luck.”

“That the curly boy?” Wayne asks, both Steve and Eddie nod. “Kid’s broken more mugs than the damn earthquake did,” he says, but he doesn’t sound mad. Eddie thinks he’s just happy that Eddie has friends like them now. 

Steve grimaces. “I’ll talk to him.”

Eddie bumps their shoulders together. He tells Wayne, “Steve’s like, the kid’s second mom.” 

“Guess that makes you the dad,” Steve jokes, bumping his shoulder back.  

“The cool dad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And here I thought I ain’t need to worry about kids with you, Ed,” Wayne jokes. Eddie snorts out a laugh. 

Steve looks between them, confused. “W-why?” 

Oh. Right. Eddie looks Steve straight in the eye. “‘Cause I don’t like girls, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes widen then flick to Wayne, whose posture changed slightly, like he’s preparing to intervene, then to Eddie, who instinctively shrinks in his chair, tugging a strand of hair in front of his face. He blinks, erasing the shock from his face. “Right, no yeah, I knew that.” 

And he didn’t. Eddie never got around to tell him because he was afraid. And now it turns out that he didn’t have to be. Because Steve looked a little shocked for a moment, yes, but now he’s smiling at Eddie and his ankle knocks against his under the table in a silent we’re okay. 

Wayne relaxes and Eddie goes back to eating enthusiastically, listening to Wayne ask Steve about his job and Steve tell them that people are actually renting movies again so his shifts aren’t as slow and boring, and that Keith is talking about leaving Hawkins and Robin bets he’ll make Steve Family Video’s new manager. 

Eddie gives Steve his last meatball in congratulations, even if he tells him there isn’t anything to congratulate him on yet. Eddie insists and Steve eats it with a pleased little smile. 

They bring out the brownies once their plates are cleared and Steve gets a little nervous when Wayne and Eddie try them. Eddie isn’t surprised that they’re delicious, he’s never tried Claudia Henderson’s food himself but he’s heard what Dustin and Steve have to say about it. Steve seems pleased when both of them reach for a second brownie. 

Once they’re full, Wayne reminds Eddie that he’s on dish washing duty before excusing himself to go take a nap.

Eddie cleans the table and starts rinsing and scrubbing the plates. His uncle’s radio is still playing in the background, some sixties ballad now, and Eddie hums along to it. 

He expects Steve to hop on the counter or stay seated at the table and keep Eddie company, but instead, he grabs a rag and situates himself right next to Eddie to dry while he washes. 

“Pretty sure that’s my job too, Stevie.” 

Steve shrugs. “I don’t mind helping.”

“Of course not,” Eddie coos, getting all up in his face. “Such a polite boy.”

Steve hipchecks him. “Or I can go and leave you here.”

Eddie grabs him with a wet hand over his sweater sleeve. “No no, stay with me, sweetheart.” 

Steve flushes, but he grabs another plate and starts drying it.

They work in silence. Eddie humming or singing along to the music if he knows the song from years of listening to Wayne’s old records, and Steve moving his hips to the beat, occasionally brushing against Eddie.

Steve is the first to break the silence. “Hey Eds, about before, when you said you were-”

“Gay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say thank you for telling me.” Eddie glances at him, but his eyes are on the glass he’s drying. “I- and we’re cool, I’m cool, I know it can be scary in a town like this, but I got your back. We all do.”

Eddie’s jaw tightens and he feels a lump in his throat. “Thanks, Steve.” He says, his voice a little choked up.

Steve looks up then, giving him the sweetest smile and Eddie wants to kiss it off his face. He wants to kiss Steve so bad. But just because he didn’t run when Eddie told him he likes boys, it doesn’t mean he won’t if he learns that Eddie likes him. It doesn’t mean he won’t reject Eddie if he tries to kiss him right now. 

He doesn’t realize when he started to lean in, but they’re closer now and Steve isn’t backing away- no, Eddie is pretty sure he’s leaning in too except he can’t be. There’s no way. It must be in Eddie’s head which means he needs to stop this before he fucks it up. He needs to stop right now. 

So Eddie scoops a handful of water and splashes Steve right on the face. 

He splutters, rearing back and giving Eddie an incredulous look. “What the hell, man?”

He doesn’t sound mad, only surprised, so Eddie gives him an innocent smile. “Muscle spasm.”

An incredulous laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “That makes no sense,” he says, and then, water is splashing Eddie on his face and shirt. 

“Hey!”

“You literally started it, Munson,” Steve deadpans. 

“I barely splashed you,” Eddie says, pointing at Steve’s sweater which is predominantly dry whereas the front of his Hellfire shirt is soaked. Steve shrugs. “Oh I get it, you liked the sight of me wet so much that you’re trying to get a repeat.”

Steve’s eyes widen, eyes momentarily flicking to Eddie’s chest, to his wet shirt. 

Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve. “Don’t gotta make a mess of my uncle’s kitchen for that, sweetheart, I can just give you a private show.”

Steve flushes, but doesn’t let himself get flustered. He smirks at Eddie. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

Eddie blinks, taken aback by Steve playing along. 

He faces Eddie then, getting all up in his space, staring him down. Then his eyes flicker at something behind Eddie and Steve’s lips twist to the side.

“Not today, though. I have a shift to get to.”

Eddie whines, displeased, before he tries to mask it with a cough, but it’s too late. Steve grins.

“Tell Wayne I said bye and thanks for lunch,” he says, absently reaching for one of Eddie’s curls on his shoulder. Eddie stays very still. 

“Ever so polite,” he mumbles, but his usual mocking tone seems to be out of commission.

Steve chuckles. “I’ll call you later?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye, Eds.”

“Bye, Stevie.”

And with a small tug to Eddie’s curl, he steps out of the kitchen. Eddie hears the door close a moment later and he has to take a few minutes to collect himself. 

But even after finishing the dishes and cleaning up the floor from the water they splashed each other with, Eddie’s face doesn’t feel cooler and his scalp hasn’t stopped tingling where Steve tugged on his hair.

On his way to his room, he wonders if Wayne will find it weird if he takes another shower. 

+1.

“Eddie, pay attention!” 

Eddie’s head shoots upright when Max practically yells in his ear. 

Only he doesn’t recognize the voice as Max’s at first and he yells back, “I’m paying attention, Mrs. O’Donnell!” before realizing he’s not at school, falling asleep in the middle of his English class, but sitting on his couch with Max watching a movie. “Er- I mean I wasn’t falling asleep, Max.”

Max glowers at him. It’s a little intimidating so Eddie looks back at the TV. He’s pretty sure he didn’t miss much from the movie- a dorky romance that Max didn’t suggest so much as demanded that they watch as soon as she came over. 

Eddie whined and complained, but of course he agreed in the end. Before they started the movie, he offered Max some dinner since he knew her mom was working a late shift, then they sat in front of the TV with reheated pizza that Wayne picked up for lunch. 

“Why are you so tired anyway? You do nothing all day,” Max says, her eyes also returning to the screen. 

Eddie scoffs. “I do plenty. And I’m not tired, I’m bored.”

“I listen to your shitty music, the least you can do is watch a movie with me.” 

“I am! And I’m happy to be spending time with my favorite redhead,” Eddie says, nudging her. She shoves him, but smiles, just barely. “But you’d have better luck watching something like this with our lover boy, he’d eat this shit up.”

She knows Eddie is talking about Steve without asking. “We’ll invite him next time, we’ll watch romance movies until your eyes bleed!” She mocks in that sarcastic way of hers. 

Eddie wipes a fake tear. “That’s cruel, Red. After I took you into my home-” 

“I let myself in.”

“And fed you-”

“You reheated some pizza!”

Eddie shakes his head, his curls bouncing. “Children these days! So ungrateful!”

Max snorts and Eddie focuses back on the movie, but he gets bored again within seconds. His thoughts drift to where they always do these days- Steve.

He hasn’t been around since the day he brought over Mrs. Henderson’s brownies. He’s been busy, is what he told Eddie when they talked on the phone, and at first, he didn’t believe it. When a day went by without Steve calling like he said he would, Eddie started to panic, worrying that his coming out or the fact that he almost gave in and kissed Steve in his kitchen might’ve driven him away, might’ve made him want to put some distance between them.

But then, the next day Steve called and apologized because his shift had been chaotic with everyone in Hawkins deciding to rent the same movie on the same night, him running out of copies, the rewinding machine breaking and having to deal with angry parents and crying children. All of that left Steve so exhausted that he ended up crashing as soon as he got home. 

Eddie felt a little silly then, for worrying about Steve when he’d promised they were okay, but he couldn’t help it. It was one thing to know your friend is into guys and another thing to know he’s into you. And at this point, Eddie feels that the latter is stupidly obvious.

(Wayne sure seems to think so. He gives him multiple looks a day now, every time he walks by Eddie while he talks on the phone with Steve, giggling and twirling the cord around his finger, or whenever Eddie brings him up, lighting up just by talking about him.)

So Eddie might be just a tiny bit nervous about their breakfast tomorrow, considering how much harder it is to hide how he feels now. He’s trying hard not to think about it. 

He glances at Max, then at the screen.

He gestures at it. “Is this what you two talk about when Steve takes you to physical therapy?” 

“What?” Max asks, frowning at the TV.

Eddie repeats himself, assuming she didn’t hear him. “Yeah, when he drives you to your check ups, Saturday mornings. Do you talk about romance movies?”  

Her frown deepens as she glances at Eddie, like he’s not making any sense. “Steve doesn’t drive me to my check ups, my mom does. That’s why she switched shifts.” 

Eddie blinks. “Oh,” he pauses, thinking. “So Steve’s never taken you for breakfast at Daisy’s Diner?”

Max purses her lips. “Hm, not breakfast. He took me for a milkshake there once after picking me up from Wheeler’s, but that’s it.”

“Oh,” Eddie says again, and when he doesn’t say anything else, Max turns back to the TV. 

“Now pay attention, this is the part where she realizes the guy has liked her all along.”

Eddie glances at the screen, but his brain is reeling with a realization of its own. That Steve’s been lying about their Saturday breakfasts, and he doesn’t know why.

***

The realization makes Eddie wonder if Steve has lied about anything else, so when Max leaves, he decides to investigate. 

He grabs the walkie-talkie by his bed and pushes the button. 

“Dustin? You there, Henderson? Over.”

It’s only a minute later that Eddie hears a crackle and then the kid’s voice. “Eddie? Over.”

“Dude, quick question. Remember when you and Steve brought me ice cream like two months ago? Over.”

“Affirmative. Over.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Was it your idea? Over.” 

“No, it was Steve’s-”

Eddie frowns. Then why would Steve say it was Dustin’s? “What did he say?” 

“You’re supposed to wait until I say over-” Dustin says and Eddie can almost hear him roll his eyes at him. 

“Time is of the essence, kid.”

Dustin sighs loudly, making sure the walkie picks it up. “He said we should bring you some ice cream since you were trapped home and miserable, and then he drove us to three different stores until we found your Cherry Chocolate ice cream.” 

Eddie blinks at his wall. “Oh.” Steve drove to three stores to get Eddie’s favorite ice cream and then lied about it. He lied about why they were there too. 

“Why is this important? Over,” Dustin asks after the walkie goes silent for a minute. 

“It’s not,” Eddie says, then he lets out a noise of frustration. “Well it is, I just don’t know how yet, gotta go.” 

“Wait-” 

“Over and out.” 

***

He leaves the walkie by his bed and moves to the phone. He fidgets as he waits for his call to be picked up. 

“Hello, Buckley residence, Robin speaking.”

“Buckley!” Eddie says, glad that she’s the one who answered and he didn’t have to hang up on her parents. 

“Oh hi, Eddie! How are you? It’s late, why are you calling this late? Please tell me there’s not another portal opening in your roof as we speak I just put on my pajamas and-”

“That’s great,” Eddie says, stopping her mid-ramble. “Listen, did you happen to cancel plans with Steve on Sunday night at the last minute?”

“Uh, no? Sunday is family dinner night so I didn’t have plans with Steve.” 

Eddie tucks a strand of hair into his mouth, chewing on it. “Any chance Steve got the date wrong or something?”

“No, dingus knows it’s always family dinner night on Sundays, he’s even come over a few times.” 

So Steve lied to him about this too. 

“Okay, cool. Bye.” 

“Eddie, wait!” 

Beeeeeep. 

***

“Henderson residence.”

Eddie puts on the most polite good boy voice he can muster and says, “Hi, Mrs. Henderson, this is Eddie Munson.” 

Claudia Henderson is one of the few people outside the party that knows about Eddie. She knows that he was badly hurt trying to protect Dustin during the earthquake, which is what her son told him, and that he’s recovering and waiting for the police to drop his charges. They’ve talked a little on the few times that Eddie called Henderson’s house, and she thanked him for saving her son on at least half of those occasions. 

“Oh hi dear, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you, ma’am?” He may be on a mission here, but Wayne will chew him out if he doesn’t act civil towards one of the few other adults in this town that don’t want him dead.

“I’m good, I’m good,” she says, delighted. “Do you want to talk to my Dusty?”

“Actually, Mrs. Henderson, I wanted to ask you a question.” 

“Oh tell me, honey.”

Eddie chews on more hair. “Did you happen to send over some brownies for me and my uncle with Steve last week?”

If she says yes, he’ll just tell her he called to thank her, but Eddie suspects that she won’t.

“Oh, no, honey, but I did help Steve make some. Apparently, his first batch didn’t turn out quite as they should so he asked for some advice, I figured he’d give them to some girl he likes.”

Eddie squeaks at the last part. Some girl he likes.  

Mrs. Henderson hears him and asks, “You okay, Eddie?”

“Yes, yes, I am, thank you ma’am.”

She must sense he’s in a rush because she simply says, “Of course, goodbye Eddie,” and hangs up. 

***

The last person he needs to question doesn’t require a phone call or a walkie. 

He hangs the phone and goes into the living space where Wayne is sitting on his armchair watching Miami Vice.  

He looks up when Eddie walks in, raising an eyebrow. “Finally done hoarding the phone?”

Eddie grimaces, flopping down on the couch. “I’ll pay you back for the bill, Uncle Wayne, I promise.” 

“‘S alright, about time that old thing got used.”

Eddie chews on his lip. “Can I ask you a question?”

Wayne studies him for a second, then he mutes the TV and leans forward on his knees, his attention solely on Eddie. “Go ahead, son.”

“Three weeks ago, when you and Sheila went on that trip, did you ask Steve to keep an eye on me?”

Wayne shakes his head. “The Harrington boy? No, I didn’t.”

Eddie chews nervously on his lip. “He said he ran into you at the store and that you said you were worried about me being alone for two days.”

This time Wayne takes longer to answer, Eddie can see him thinking it over. “I ran into ‘im and I said that, but I didn’t ask him to keep an eye on ya. Didn’t think I needed to.”

Eddie whines, slumping back against the couch, covering his face with his hands. 

“What’s this about, Ed?”

“I- He’s been lying to me, Wayne,” Eddie mumbles against his hands. 

“Do I need to get my shotgun?” 

Eddie snorts, he peeks at his uncle through his fingers and finds him staring back at Eddie, looking dead serious. He shakes his head. “No, it’s not-” he sighs. “He’s been making up all these excuses about why he keeps coming over. He said he’s been driving Max, the Mayfield girl, to her physical therapy appointments on Saturdays and that’s why he shows up with breakfast, but she says it’s not true. And he said it was Henderson’s idea to bring me ice cream last month, but Dustin said it wasn’t and he said Robin Buckley canceled movie night plans with him but they never had plans to begin with! And Mrs. Henderson didn’t make those brownies, he did with her help but he said she sent them over anyway.”

Wayne listens to Eddie ramble, watching his hands flailing and his body shifting on the couch until he ends up sprawled on it. Then gruffly, he tells Eddie, “Sounds like he’s going through a lot of trouble jus’ to spend time with you.”

“But why?” Eddie whines, tugging on his hair like it will shake the answers out from his brain. 

“Probably for the same reason you’ve been eating up those lousy excuses.”

Eddie flushes bright pink.

“You like this boy,” Wayne continues, spelling it out in case Eddie didn’t get it. It makes him flush even more. “And he likes you.” 

“But does he?” Eddie asks, he shifts on the couch until he’s on his back, staring at the roof. He blinks a few times to get rid of the image of Chrissy floating and then the portal, reminding himself this is a different trailer, that it’s over so he can focus on the problem at hand. “I mean, why would he? I’m- I’m just me and he’s-” He trails off with a vague gesture of his hands, words failing him to describe Steve and how painfully out of his league he is. 

“He’s a good kid,” Wayne says, and Eddie hears the armchair squeak, then he feels his uncle’s hand on his shoulder. “But so are you, Ed, and you both light up around each other like candles at a goddamn church.”

Eddie groans dramatically, thrashing on the couch like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Jesus H., Wayne, what do I do?”

“You tell ‘im, son,” Wayne says, dropping his hand as he leans back on the armchair. “No excuses, no lies, you tell ‘im dead on how you feel.”

“I think I’d rather die.”

Wayne snorts. Eddie doesn’t need to see him to know he just rolled his eyes at his dramatics. “You almost did, you went up against whatever killed that girl and you survived by the skin of your teeth. Don’t tell me you’re scared of this.” 

“But I am!” Eddie says, throwing up his hands. “It could ruin everything! He’s- he’s too important to me, Wayne, I can’t lose him.”

“Son, that boy is worse than a lost pup around you, he ain’t going nowhere.”

Eddie shifts onto his side, looking at Wayne with big round eyes. “You promise?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure?” Wayne nods. “‘Cause if you’re wrong, you’re moving us out of Hawkins and across the country.” 

Wayne snorts. “’M sure.” 

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Okay, well, tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Usually comes after Friday, yeah.”

“Shut up, I mean- Steve will probably show up tomorrow after ‘taking Max to therapy’,” he says, making air quotes with his fingers. 

“No doubt ‘bout it.”

“Should I say something? Should I do something? Wayne, what do I do?” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Wayne says, pushing himself up, his bad knee cracking almost as much as the armchair does. “Give me a call at the factory if you need me to pick up anythin’ after my shift.”

And with one final squeeze to Eddie’s shoulder, he leaves to start getting ready for work. 

Eddie wallows on the couch some more until he notices the VHS that Max made him watch earlier. He realizes there’s only one person who can help right now. Luckily, she lives across the street from him. 

And sure, he has to break Prickly’s golden rule to enlist her help, but Eddie is on a mission. Surely, she’d understand. 

***

“I was literally just at your place,” Max deadpans the moment that she opens the door to Eddie, rocking back and forth on his heels and with the hood of his sweater thrown over his head. 

He knows he probably shouldn’t stay out long, even if it’s late and the trailer park is deserted, so he ignores her mean remark and says, “Steve has been lying to me for weeks.”

Max narrows her eyes. “Do I need to beat him up?” 

A surprised laugh tumbles past Eddie’s lips. “No, but thank you for the offer,” he says, his heart feeling a little warm knowing that Max has his back, but he can’t dwell on that right now. “The thing is- I like him, I like Steve, not in a friend way, in a gay way, I hope that’s cool.”

Without missing a beat, Max says, “Of course it’s cool.” Eddie could hug her, but he has the feeling that if he did, she’d push him down her front steps. “It’s also obvious as shit,” she adds and there goes the urge to hug her. Eddie grimaces. 

“Well, I think- I think he likes me too or- well, he’s been lying to me about driving you to therapy every Saturday for the last two months, stopping by with breakfast after ‘cause he was ‘in the neighborhood’,” he says, using air quotes again. “And there’s also been other times when he made up excuses just to come over.” 

Max smirks. “He definitely likes you.”

Hearing it from a second person fills Eddie’s heart with a little more hope. He knows he sounds wistful when he says, “I hope you’re right, Red, ‘cause I want to tell him. I want to do something tomorrow morning when he shows up, but I can’t leave the trailer park to do some grand gesture and I’m also shit at romance, but you’re obsessed with those movies so I thought you could help. Please.”

Max studies him for a second. Eddie considers dropping to his knees and pleading, but before he can, she says, “You’re gonna owe me so many rides to the arcade and the skate park for this.”

Eddie snorts. “Can’t wait for the day I can deliver. House arrest sucks.”

“At least you’re getting a boyfriend out of it.”

Eddie squeaks, the thought of Steve being his boyfriend makes him feel giddy and nervous at the same time. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me what to do.”

Max purses her lips, thinking for a moment. Eddie sees the moment an idea occurs to her, the way her eyes sparkle. “First, do you know the Bairds from two trailers over?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at her. “Yeah?”

“Mrs. Baird has a nice flower garden. Daisies, I think.”

“Okay?” Eddie asks, still confused. “So what?”

“Well, I’m gonna distract her, and you are gonna steal them.”

***

Eddie protests at first. After all, the government is trying to clear his name and Max is asking him to commit thievery. 

“All is fair in love and war,” is Max’s reply, and without giving Eddie a chance to say anything, she starts making her way to the Baird’s trailer. There, she puts on the act of ‘girl who just lost her dog’ perfectly and long enough for Eddie to snatch as many daisies as he can to make a pretty bouquet. 

They meet back at her house and she nods approvingly at it, telling Eddie to put them in a flower vase with water. 

Eddie snorts. “Bold of you to assume we own a flower vase.”

Max rolls her eyes, muttering, “Do I have to do everything myself?” before disappearing into her house. She comes back with a vase, a white tablecloth and ushers Eddie back to his trailer. 

She helps him set the table with the tablecloth and the flowers while Eddie tells her about all the excuses that Steve’s been making up. She snorts louder at each one, muttering about boys being useless and oblivious and blind. 

Max’s idea is simple- taking a piece of every time they’ve hung out together (“dates, they were dates, Eddie,” she said) to show Steve how important they were for him and help Eddie tell him how he feels. 

Steve will bring the egg sandwiches from their Saturday breakfasts, Eddie calls Wayne to the factory and asks him to pick up Cherry Chocolate ice cream on his way home, he’s got the tapes Steve got him which he plans to play when he gets here and Max lets him borrow the romcom they watched early tonight which isn’t the same one they watched the day Steve came over, but it’ll do. 

For the last one, Eddie and Max spend the rest of the night making brownies. It’s a miracle they turn out fine, even if they’re not as good as the ones Steve made with Mrs. Henderson, but hopefully he won’t mind. 

By the time Max leaves, it’s almost midnight and Eddie feels a little bad about sending her home so late, so he lets her take one of the brownies with her. 

“Thanks for doing this, Red,” he says, hanging hand from his neck.

“Good luck, Eddie,” Max says, offering her hand for a fist bump that Eddie accepts. He keeps an eye on her through the window until she’s safely inside her house and just like that, he’s alone. 

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to sleep now, but baking and panicking and finding out that his unrequited crush might not be unrequited after all, turn out to be very draining and Eddie falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

***

He wakes up when Wayne knocks on his door.

“Got your ice cream, boy. Had to drive to three stores to find it,” his uncle says through the door. 

Eddie’s response is a confused grumble.

But when his sleep-addled brain makes sense of what he just heard, remembering what happened yesterday and what he’s doing today, he jolts upright, suddenly wide awake. 

He knows Wayne gets home a little after eight so that gives him some time before Steve shows up. After one look in the mirror, he decides to take a shower and wash away the flour that somehow ended up in his hair last night. 

He forces himself not to overthink what he’ll wear, lest he sends himself into a spiral. He grabs one of his many band shirts but makes sure it’s one with no holes in it, a flannel, and his favorite pants. He feels silly putting on his chain and his earrings and his rings when all he’s going to do is hang out at his place, but he does it anyway. No one needs to know he wants to look good for Steve Harrington.

As soon as he steps into the kitchen, it’s clear that Uncle Wayne knows that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. He looks Eddie up and down and hides his smirk behind his morning paper. 

“Nice set up you got here. All of it for me?” Wayne asks, gesturing at the flowers and the tablecloth. 

Eddie groans, going red in the face, and heads straight for the coffee pot. He probably shouldn’t have any caffeine with how nervous and jittery he already feels, but he needs to be doing something.

“Ice cream’s in the fridge,” he says when Eddie sits down across from him. 

“Thanks.”

“I assume you want me to make myself scarce for a couple hours.”

Eddie hides his face behind his Star Wars mug. “If you don’t mind.”

“No problem, son, I’ll just pay Sheila a visit.”

They have their coffee in silence, careful not to stain the Mayfield’s tablecloth. It’s a near miss with how Eddie keeps bouncing his leg under the table, making the mugs shake and the coffee almost slosh over the side. 

It’s a quarter before ten when Wayne stands up to leave. 

“Gotta tell me where you got those pretty flowers. Sheila might like some,” he says, gesturing at the flower vase. 

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “They're from Mrs. Baird’s garden.”

Wayne snorts. “Thought they looked familiar.” 

He rinses his mug and folds the morning paper,  leaving it on the table for Steve. On his way out, he puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Relax, son, that Harrington boy is a sure thing.”

“Thanks, old man, I hope you’re right.”

“Tell him I said hi.”

Eddie hums in acknowledgement. The next thing he hears is the door closing as his uncle leaves. 

He sits on the table for a few more minutes, watching the flowers. Their yellow center makes him think of Steve in his yellow sweater, the one they left behind at Lover's Lake. Steve taking off that sweater sent Eddie into a panic that night, but he feels an even worse panic right now. Back then, he was worrying about not openly checking Steve out, and in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t seem like much, but right now, he’s about to bare his heart to Steve and hope he doesn’t break it irreparably. 

***

He finishes setting up- fixing the flowers, smoothing the tablecloth, putting the tape in the cassette player- just as there’s a knock on the door. 

Eddie feels like he could throw up. “Jesus H. Christ. Pull it together, Munson.” 

Three deep breaths later, he’s opening the door to Steve. Steve in his yellow sweater. 

Just perfect. 

“Hey Eddie,” he says, doing that little finger wiggle wave that he does. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Eddie says, his eyes flicking down to Steve’s chest. “I thought that sweater was still floating somewhere in Lover's Lake.” 

Steve looks down with a frown. “Oh! This is a different one.”

“Of course Steve Harrington would own two of the same sweater,” Eddie says with a fond eye roll. 

“More importantly, why does Eddie Munson recognize which sweaters I own?” He asks with a playful smirk as he side-steps through the door. 

Eddie closes it behind him, biting his lip. “Well, you look good in yellow.” 

Steve blinks, flushing pink. “Oh. Thanks. You- uh-” He looks Eddie up and down and the flush reaches his ears. “You look good. You, uh, going somewhere?” 

“Can’t, remember?”

Steve smiles sheepishly. “I know, but usually I find you in your pajamas and with pillow creases on your face.”

“Well, I felt like dressing up today.”

Steve’s hand reaches out to give a drying curl a little tug. “I like it.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “So, uh, how was physical therapy?”

There’s a flash of something across Steve’s face that Eddie now recognizes as Steve trying to come up with a lie. 

“Good, good, yeah, she’s getting so much better, but try to tell her that and she’ll give you the middle finger.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Damn, you’re good.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing! I said- that’s good, that she’s getting better. Soon she won’t need you to take her to her appointments, huh?” 

Steve frowns like it just occurred to him that his Max excuse has an expiration date. “Oh, I guess.”

Eddie sighs longingly. “I’m gonna miss our Saturday breakfasts.” 

Steve bumps their shoulders together. “I guess we're just gonna need a new excuse to keep having them.” He starts heading for the kitchen where he’ll be able to see Eddie’s entire set up. It’s now or never. 

“Or we could, you know, drop the excuses altogether?” 

Steve whirls around, his eye twitching a little. “What do you mean?” 

“I know you’ve been lying to me, Steve.”

Steve’s smile falters, but he still tries to play it off. “Okay, maybe I was the one who finished your sandwich while you in the bathroom last week, but-” 

“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “About Max’s therapy appointments and Mrs. Henderson’s brownies and Buckley canceling your movie night.” 

Steve gulps. “Oh.” He shrinks a little, fidgeting with the paper bag that contains their egg sandwiches and probably some other sweet treat for Eddie. 

“I’m not mad, Stevie,” he says reassuringly. “I’m just- confused.”

Steve sighs, he runs a hand through his hair, which he only does when he’s too anxious to care about messing it up. “Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to spend time with you.” 

Eddie’s stomach swoops, giddy and nervous at the same time. “But why all the excuses?” 

“‘Cause I didn’t- I don’t know-” Steve runs his hand through his hair again, blowing out a puff of air. “I knew you’d be miserable stuck here with nothing to do so at first it was about that, keeping you company without you feeling like I was hovering, which is a thing I do apparently, but then. Then I wanted to keep showing up and I kept coming up with excuses not just to come here but to bring you things like- like the brownies or the tapes ‘cause I didn’t- I didn’t know how you’d react to me basically- I don’t know, courting you or whatever.”

“Courting me? What am I, a Victorian lady?” Eddie can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

Steve leans against the wall, letting his head fall back against it with a thud. “If you were a Victorian lady this would be so much easier because I could just tell you I have feelings for you.” 

Eddie squeaks, grabbing some of his hair and tucking it in front of his face. “You have feelings for me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Steve says, hanging a hand from his neck. “I thought you figured out as much with me showing up at your door like a lost dog.” 

Eddie bites his lip, trying to wrap his head around Steve’s words. “I thought about it, and Max and Wayne both said but- wow. You actually have feelings for me, that’s- wow.” 

Steve smiles softly. “Yeah, Eds, of course I do.” 

“Jesus H. Christ.”

There’s a short silence where the only thing that can be heard is Steve’s Nikes scuffing against the floor. 

Steve breaks it by asking, “Wayne and Max knew?” 

“They didn’t know you were using them as cover, but as soon as I told them, they put it together.”

Steve scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know which shovel talk I’m more worried about,” he jokes, once again his mouth moving quicker than his brain. He seems to realize what he said when Eddie yelps. “Not that- not that there needs to be a shovel talk cause you haven’t said anything about liking me back, shit, you haven’t said anything-”

Before Steve starts spiraling, Eddie grabs hold of his wrist and starts leading him to the kitchen. “I never really questioned your excuses, you know, flimsy as some of them were. And I guess it was because I didn’t really care, not as long as you kept coming over because-” Just before they reach the kitchen, Eddie stops and faces Steve. “Because I have feelings for you too, Steve, big gay romantic feelings and shit, and I guess since you’ve been courting me like you said, I could do the same thing.” 

Steve watches with wide eyes as Eddie turns on the music and then pulls him toward the kitchen. He blinks down at the tablecloth, the flowers, the brownies, and then, at Eddie, his hazel eyes sparkling. 

“It’s, uh, my attempt to take a piece of every time you were here so the brownies that you said Mrs. Henderson made for us, but it was actually you, and the tapes from that time you told me my uncle asked you to check on me, but he didn’t. There’s a movie we can watch like we did after your so-called canceled movie night with Buckley.”

Steve follows Eddie’s movements with his eyes as he gestures wildly, his cheeks turning pinker as he exposes all of his excuses. 

“And, uh,” He opens the freezer and points at the ice cream tubs that Wayne put there earlier. “Cherry Chocolate ice cream from your visit with Henderson, which I know now wasn’t his idea and I know you drove to like, three different stores to find it.” 

“Four,” Steve corrects, then he shakes his head when he realizes his admission. “Damn it, Henderson.”

“And finally-” He gestures at the bag that Steve is still holding. 

“The egg sandwiches from our Saturday breakfasts,” Steve finishes. Eddie nods. “Eddie-”

“Max helped me with all of this. I uh- I stole those flowers, it was probably a bad idea but they remind me of you or the yellow thing does.” He plucks one out from the vase and takes a small step towards Steve. 

His breath catches when Eddie tucks the flower delicately behind his ear. “Truth is, Steve, you’re the only reason why I didn’t lose my mind these last two months, and if I wasn’t locked up in here for the foreseeable future, I would ask you out right now.” His hand drops to Steve’s shoulder where it plays with the soft fabric of his sweater. 

Steve catches it in his own hand before Eddie can drop it to his side again. “I would say yes. If you asked me out.”

“Yeah?”

“Eddie, I’ve been driving here every Saturday morning just to have breakfast with you. I’m pretty gone for you, man.” 

Eddie giggles, feeling giddy. He uses his free hand to bring a strand of hair in front of his face. “Jesus H., Steve. I guess I’m pretty gone for you too. If anyone else showed up at my door before ten in the fucking morning I would tell them to fuck off.”

Steve laughs. He reaches for the hair in front of Eddie’s face and tucks it behind his ear, then his hand cups his jaw. “I’m glad you didn’t.” His thumb strokes Eddie’s cheek. Eddie notices the way Steve’s gaze drops to his lips, almost longingly. He knows he’s looking at Steve in the same way. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“God, yes,” Eddie says, and then Steve guides Eddie’s face back to his with a gentle hand. Catches Eddie’s mouth in a kiss. 

Something explodes inside Eddie’s chest at the first press of their lips and he worries that all the healing of the last two months will be for nothing- that his chest is going to burst open from the sheer exhilaration of Steve kissing him. But he doesn’t care, he wants it. He wants more. His hands go to Steve’s waist, tentatively at first, before grabbing a fistful of soft yellow fabric and pulling him closer. 

Steve gasps against his lips and Eddie wastes no time licking into his mouth, and the sweet little noise it pulls from Steve makes Eddie feel a little lightheaded. They lick and kiss and nip at each other’s lips for a while, until they have no choice but to come up for air. 

Eddie can’t help the giddy laugh that escapes him, which quickly trails off into a whine when his eyes flicker over Steve’s well-kissed lips, his dopey sweet smile, his soft eyes. 

“What?” Steve asks, licking his lips. Eddie’s breath catches. 

“All those times you came over, we could’ve been doing this,” he says, feeling a little dizzy while thinking about kissing Steve on the couch, on the roof of his trailer, on his bed. 

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he thinks about it too. “Maybe not all of them,” he says, pursing his lips, thinking. “I don’t think Dustin or Wayne would appreciate us making out in front of them.” 

“Well, they better get used to it fast because I’m a little obsessed with your mouth, I think.” It’s true, he hasn’t been able to tear his gaze from those pink lips. 

Slowly, they pull into a smirk. “And I haven’t shown you all it can do yet.” 

A choked laugh tumbles from Eddie’s lips. “Jesus, Steve!” 

He winks. “For now, though,” he says, swaying forward until his lips are hovering right over Eddie’s. “We should have our breakfast before it gets cold. No excuses this time.” He closes the distance and presses his lips against Eddie’s in a short kiss. 

Eddie tries to chase after him when he pulls away. “And a lot more kissing.” 

Steve smiles, that fucking charming lopsided one that Eddie loves so much. “So much kissing. All the kissing you want.”

“Careful, Steve. That’s a dangerous thing to offer.”

“I think I can handle it,” Steve says, his own eyes darting down when Eddie’s tongue slips out to lick over his lips. It’s wild- seeing the way Steve looks at his mouth like he can’t get enough of it. It’s wild to see his same feelings and thoughts reflected at him on Steve’s face. It’s a dream.

“Oh, I’m sure you can, big boy,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek and watching in wonder as it turns red. 

After that, they go through breakfast the same way they’ve done for two months, only this time they hook their ankles together underneath the table and when Eddie inevitably gets bread crumbs on his chin, Steve brushes them away with a soft touch and an even softer look, muttering about Eddie being a mess, his voice dripping with fondness. 

It’s probably too early for dessert, but after they’re done with breakfast, they each have a brownie with a scoop of ice cream on top anyway. 

“They’re not as good as your brownies, but Max and I did our best.”

“Well, I had Mrs. Henderson’s help so it’s hardly fair,” Steve says with a shrug. 

“You know, she said she thought she was helping you make those for a girl you like,” Eddie says teasingly. 

Steve blushes. “Well, she only got the ‘girl’ part wrong.” 

After they’re done eating, they clean up the table and take care of the dishes the same way they did the other day. Eddie washes, Steve dries. 

While they do that, Steve confesses that he almost kissed Eddie that day, right before he started a water fight. 

“Wait, really?” he asks, thinking back on that day and how he thought Steve was flirting back, inching closer until Eddie panicked and splashed water on his face. “Why didn’t you?”

“You splashed water on my face,” Steve says in that bitchy way he does. 

Eddie gives him a sheepish smile. “Okay, fair, but after that.”

Steve shrugs. “I didn’t want to presume that just because you like guys, you’d like me.”

“Presume away,” Eddie says with a snigger. Steve hipchecks him. “I thought you were going to kiss me, for a moment, but I figured I was just imagining it.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “What, you thought you were imagining me blatantly checking you out too?” 

A faintly hysterical giggle bursts out of Eddie. He accidentally drops one of their mugs on the sink. Luckily, it doesn’t crack. “You were checking me out?” 

“The guy I like walks out wet and with just a towel around his hips? Eds, I couldn’t look away!” Steve says with a laugh, Eddie gapes at him like a fish out of water. “If Wayne hadn’t been there, I would’ve jumped you right there,” he adds with a smug smile, Eddie squeaks like a chew toy. 

“I thought- I thought you were looking at my scars and they made you nervous or something-” Eddie says. He wasn’t entirely blind, he remembers Steve looking and he remembers how jumpy he was, but it never occurred to Eddie that it was because he was attracted to him. 

“Hm no, I was thinking about tracing them with my fingers and then my lips-”

This time, the mug does crack when it hits the bottom of the sink. Shit. He doesn’t know how he’s explaining that to Wayne. “Dude! Stop saying shit like that!”

Steve simply dissolves into giggles, muffling them against Eddie’s shoulder. 

They finish the dishes without any other incident and Eddie guides them to the couch so they can watch the movie that Max let him borrow. He was right about it being Steve’s type of movie, he seems to be enjoying it- right until the moment that he falls asleep with his head on Eddie’s chest. Earlier, he confessed that he’s been waking up early every Saturday despite having a late shift on Fridays just to come here so Eddie thinks it’s only fair to let him take a nap on top of him. 

That’s how Wayne finds them an hour later. 

He raises an eyebrow at Eddie, eyes flicking between the two of them, and Eddie gives him a thumbs up. His other hand stays stroking circles over Steve’s arm. 

Eventually, the movie ends but Eddie still doesn’t move. His leg is starting to fall asleep under Steve’s weight and the tender skin of one of his scars is starting to sting, but he holds off a little longer, just so he can keep Steve like this. 

***

Three days later, a call wakes Eddie up.

He stumbles out of the bed and reaches the phone on the last ring. The call is quick, right to the point. 

“It’s done. Your chief of police will release a statement today. You’re free,” Prickly’s voice says as soon as he answers and then immediately hangs up. 

Eddie lets out a boisterous laugh that alerts Uncle Wayne. Before they can celebrate, there’s a call from Hopper who fills Eddie in on the details- Henry Creel, who was presumed dead until now, was confirmed to be the murderer (“If they can believe I came back from the dead, they’ll believe Henry did too,” Hopper says), he died during the earthquake before they could arrest him, the same earthquake that led to Eddie getting hurt in and having to spend two months recovering at a hospital, explaining why no one saw him around. 

Eddie only half-listens until Hopper tells him he’s free to leave the trailer, but to be careful in case some people are still out to get him. 

He assures him that he will, even calls him ‘sir’ which gets him an eye roll from Wayne, standing next to him by the phone. Hopper can probably tell he’s just trying to get rid of him, but he lets it happen, hanging up soon after. 

As soon as the phone line goes dead, Eddie is hugging his uncle, grabbing the keys to his truck since his van is still stashed at Rick’s, and driving to the Harrington residence.

He rings the doorbell, and then rings it again when no one comes immediately. He’s about to ring it a third time when he hears Steve’s voice behind the door, “I’m coming, Jesus! I’m coming!”

He opens the door while rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but as soon as he sees Eddie, he suddenly looks wide awake. “Eds, what- what are you doing here?” He asks, alarmed, looking around to make sure no one’s seen Eddie before he takes hold of his wrist and pulls him inside. “Someone could’ve seen you!”

“Relax, Stevie,” Eddie says, barely containing his excited grin. “Prickly called.”

Steve’s eyes go wide. “She did?”

“I’m a free man, baby.”

As soon as the words are out, Steve tackles him with a hug, sending them stumbling back a few steps. 

“Eddie, that’s great!”

Eddie hums in agreement, squeezing his arms around Steve’s waist. “And as a free man, I have a very important question.”

Steve leans back, but only his head, his body stays encircled in Eddie’s arms. He raises an eyebrow at him. 

Eddie’s entire body shakes with excitement, something Steve can probably feel, when he asks, “Steve Harrington, would you like to go out, emphasis on out, on a date with me?”

Steve shakes his head, lips stretching into a big smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Then he pushes Eddie against the door and kisses him, hard. And as Eddie melts into the kiss, pulling Steve closer to him by the collar of his shirt- Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt actually, that he must’ve stolen the day he slept over- he can’t help but think that maybe being on house arrest wasn’t so bad after all.

Not if it gave him this, not if it gave him Steve.