Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Said I’m fine and said I moved on

I’m only here passing time in her arms

Hoping I’ll find a glimpse of us

Steve sits quietly on his couch, cuddled beneath a blanket, wiping the silent tears from his cheeks. He doesn’t want to wake Robin, who is asleep at the other end.

He’s been putting on a brave face the last few months, but if he’s honest with himself, he’s not doing well.

When Eddie broke up with him suddenly four months ago, he thought he could shake it and move on quickly. But at night, he still ends up with tears in his eyes more times than not.

He didn’t give Steve much explanation when he called it quits other than he couldn’t see him anymore.

Steve believes that if he had some reason he could cling to, it would help him move forward, but living in the unknown makes things difficult to rationalize.

Their relationship had been a surprise to both men. It crashed into them like a freight train, rough, desperate, clashing of skin and teeth, and adrenaline filled. It was different from any other relationship Steve had experienced, leaving him craving more.

Eddie was aggressive, demanding, always said what he wanted, and gladly reciprocated. It started out as a sexual release, but the pair found a comfortable luxury in spending time with each other outside of the bedroom soon after.

But after three months, Eddie pulled the plug, leaving Steve to wonder what happened.

Steve hasn’t seen him since that day. He doesn’t even know if he’s still in Hawkins. The rest of their friend group hasn’t seen him either, and that’s abnormal. After everything they all went through, what Eddie went through, it should’ve brought them closer.

Eddie cracked open an already fragile Steve Harrington and left him as an unrepairable pile of dust. But in the beginning, Eddie’d filled those cracks with his smiles, laughter, gentle teasing, and unrelenting physical touch.

Steve had felt lighter with Eddie, almost floating, but now he was a blubbering mess.

“What are you doing?” Steve leans back, his eyes filling with fear.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Eddie keeps moving forward. His hands fall to bracket Steve’s waist around him on the couch.

Eddie’s eyes are locked on Steve’s face, surveying every inch of his handsome features. They’ve been dancing around this heat for weeks. The subtle touches, the heady laughter, the intimate nicknames, Eddie couldn’t take one more second of not having his mouth on the man before him.

“I-I…Eddie?” Steve’s chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“Do you want me to stop?” Eddie leans into Steve’s space and runs his nose along the tight column of Steve’s neck.

“N-no, no,” Steve squeezes his eyes shut and responds breathlessly.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” Eddie growls and Steve’s body sinks into the couch cushion.

“Wha-what?” Steve’s shaking and doesn’t think he could stop if someone attempted to force him.

“Fuck, Steve. I want to sink myself deep and fully inside of you. Pull you apart and lick every corner of your body until you scream out my name.”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve’s fingers grip the fabric at his sides, too scared to move them.

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to slow down once we cross this line. What do you want?” Eddie’s voice is low, and Steve’s taking every ounce of energy to focus on the words.

“Do…” he swallows hard. “Do it, do it, kiss me, Eddie, kiss me.”

As if smashing through a plate glass cage and releasing the animal within, Eddie moves quickly and crashes his mouth over Steve’s.

Steve leans into him eagerly, his hands finally moving and grabbing at the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

The night was filled with the sounds of finally losing control, letting every wanton craving and deep desire overcome them into a filthy night of passion.

Then every time they came together again, it ended the same way. It was as if the only time they could finally be themselves, finally feel everything they’ve ever wanted, was wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Their heat-filled desired nights began to swim easily into a warm, comfortable embrace, then into safe, secure contentment, and that’s when Eddie pulled the rug out from beneath Steve.

“Hey, this has been fun or whatever, but we shouldn’t do this anymore.” Eddie was pulling his pants back over his hips, avoiding eye contact with Steve, who was still naked and splayed out on his bed.

“What?” Steve shifts his weight and pushes himself onto his palms, covering his lower half with the sheets.

“Yeah, like, this has been fucking fun; honestly, you’re great, but we shouldn’t do this anymore.” After zipping up his pants, Eddie leans down to check out his hair in the nearby mirror.

“Are you? Are you breaking up with me?” Eddie ignores the crack in Steve’s voice.

“Come on, Harrington. We weren’t together or anything. Just fucking around, and it’s time.”

“Oh…” Steve’s stomach is twisting with regret.

“Cool, see ya around, man. I’ll let myself out.” Eddie avoids looking into Steve’s eyes and steps out of his room, leaving Steve to stare confusingly at the empty doorway.

Steve’s been trying to move on, move forward, and away from the memories of Eddie and their time together, but it doesn’t work.

He’s had a couple of one-night stands with women in hopes of removing the memories of Eddie’s hands on his body, digging into his skin like it was his to claim.

It hasn’t worked.

Just as the familiar thrum of his orgasm built, he’d close his eyelids and see those familiar chocolate eyes begging him to tumble over the edge into utopia.

It wasn’t what he wanted, and they were never him.

He was craving destruction.

He wanted to dig his fingers into chaos and thrum it up, leaving a mess behind. This was the only thing that worked to cover the ache and loneliness he couldn’t shake. The liters of alcohol, the sweat of someone else’s body, with the hum of intoxication flowing through his blood happily took him to a state of anything but Eddie.

“Steve? Baby, is that good?”

Steve returns to the present with Heidi, Heather, or whoever is riding him on his couch. 

His fingers are lazily holding her hips, and he’s not moving, making her do all the work. Her hands are holding his shoulders, trying to find the angle, the motion to get him to respond and pound into her.

“Yeah, uh huh, it’s good.” He adjusts his hips to slide a little on the cushion, and she responds by moving faster, thinking he will reciprocate.

The alcohol and weed flowing through him make it almost impossible to bring all of his senses into focus and give her what she wants.

“Steeeve, Steve, ah, ah, ah, I wanna…please fuck me.” She’s whining, and it annoys Steve. 

“Get up,” he rolls his hips and taps her thigh.

She happily obliges and stands up, waiting for her next order, when he sloppily rolls over, pushing himself to his feet, and stands unbalanced.

“Where do you want me?” She starts running her hands over her body, hoping to get his attention back.

“Get out,” Steve slurs as he finally stabilizes himself. “Leave. I want you gone.”

“What? Leave?” She moves toward him as he rounds the couch heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, get the fuck out.” His words are slurred and monotone.

“What? You were just fucking me, and now you’re kicking me out?” She gawks at him.

“Yeah, I’m done. Couldn’t even get me off.” He’s cruelly taking out his pain on this unsuspecting woman who wants to do nothing but make him feel good.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She stomps to the living room and pulls her clothes on hastily. 

Steve stays in the kitchen, naked, pouring himself another drink.

“You’re such an asshole! Don’t fucking ever text me again.” She slams the front door behind herself, and Steve lazily waves.

He slips back to the couch, staying naked. His dick is soft now and resting against his thigh. 

He takes a sip of his drink and grabs his phone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but his filter and control are gone.

He glares at his phone and types out his response before overthinking it.

He doesn’t mean it, but it’s the only safe thing he can bring himself to say.

He stares at the screen, his hands trembling and barely holding onto the device as he rereads Eddie’s words.

Eddie doesn’t respond, and Steve doesn’t know what’s worse.

His heart sinks, and he feels like he will be sick. Was it all a lie? Was everything between them bullshit?

Bullshit.

“Fuck,” he runs his hand over his face realizing he did it again. 

He doesn’t bother stopping the tears rolling down his cheeks. Instead, he drops his phone onto his leg and presses his face into his hands.

He’s such a fool.

I’m such an idiot.

He sets his drink on the carpet below him and slides his body down onto the cushions, shoving his face into the nearby throw pillow.

His phone slides off his lap and falls to the ground, making a thud that echoes through Steve’s ears.

He did it again, got his heart involved in something it never belonged in the first place.

It was stupid.

He was stupid.

He’d think it wouldn’t be a surprise by now, but it always was. He was so pathetic, desperate for affection, that he’d imagine they cared about him. But, obviously, they didn’t. He didn’t deserve it and couldn’t get it through his thick skull.

Everyone always called him slow, said he wasn’t that bright, and he kept proving them right.

Steve jumps head first into every relationship he’s ever had, romantic or otherwise. That ache to be accepted and needed vibrates at the surface of his skin, and every time someone turns to him for help, he feels that bloom of approval spread through his veins.

It’s intoxicating and addicting.

He throws the safety of his heart, head, and physical body out the window and does whatever it takes to keep getting that feeling. Even if it’s not real, even if it’s someone taking advantage of his kind heart. He needs to be needed as if it fills his lungs with the breath of life.

He stays crumpled on the couch all night, unmoving, ignoring the notifications pinging his phone and a couple of missed calls that come through. But he can’t ignore Robin when she grabs his ankle the next afternoon and yanks him from his fetal position.

“What the hell, dingus? Can you put some clothes on?” She covers her eyes and throws a blanket at him.

Steve’s eyes widen as he realizes she’s standing in his living room, her hands on her hips, looking more like Steve usually does than herself.

He groans and wraps the blanket around his waist, getting to his feet and squeezing his eyes through the hangover.

He lazily grabs his phone from the floor, and Robin follows behind him as he trudges to his bedroom, grabbing a pair of worn sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.

She finally takes in his look, the puffy eyes, the red nose, and the disheveled appearance, and moves closer to her best friend.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Her face softens, and she sits beside him after he falls to the edge of his mattress.

He groans and shakes his head, turning away from her and rolling onto his side on the bed.

“No, Steve. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. I’ve been worried. What happened?”

Steve tosses his phone behind his back, letting it land between the duo.

Robin scoops it up and unlocks the screen, knowing Steve’s security code. It immediately opens to Eddie’s text conversation. Robin reads the words that broke her best friend’s heart and covers her mouth in surprise.

“That lying bastard.”

“No, he’s right.” Steve’s voice is muffled by the fabric against his face.

“No, no, he’s not. I saw the two of you. I saw him. He’s fucking lying. He’s lying, Steve. I don’t know what’s going on with him, I don’t, but I swear, you can’t fake that. I saw it.”

“He was probably pretending. You know, he does all those voices, characters, and stuff for their D&D games. Probably playing some character.” Steve’s voice cracks as the idea that Eddie was pretending the entire time sinks into his bones.

“No…no, Steve, there’s no way.” Robin’s voice is quiet and sad, and Steve wants her to not worry about him, not to take on his pain. It’s not her job.

“Robin, it doesn’t matter. I’m the idiot that should’ve known better. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve looks over his shoulder at her, surprised. She glares at him, tears filling in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re my best friend, and if I want to feel bad that some asshole is making you feel like crap, I’m allowed. But stop trying to control my feelings because you feel like you’re not worthy. God, I wish…” She sighs and bites her lip, taking a few slow breaths before continuing. “I just wish everyone else saw how incredible you are. It’s not fair.”

She moves her body and slides down next to him. Steve moves a little, giving her more room, and she wraps her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his upper back.

“You really think he’s lying?” Steve asks quietly.

“Yeah, babe. Yeah, I do.” She nods, and he can feel it against his back. “I’m gonna hunt that jerk down and shave his head, then shove it down his throat.”

Steve laughs a little, and Robin squeezes him slightly tighter.

“Thanks, Rob.” Steve covers her hand with his and gives her a gentle squeeze.

“Love you, dingus. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

“Love you, too.”

“What are you doing here, Buckley?” Eddie wipes his hands with a dirty shop towel.

“You know what I’m doing here, Munson.” She crosses her arms and glares at him in the open bay doorway.

“I’m at work. I don’t have time for this.” He ignores her and continues moving around the shop.

“When would you have time, asshole? Because it doesn’t seem like you ever have time. So you get to deal with me here. Since you’re not answering your phone, you’re not going to D&D anymore. You’re never at your uncle’s, and this is the only place that anyone has seen the ghost of Eddie Munson lingering around. So, here I am to ask you what the actual fuck?” She keeps pace with his movements, following him but not getting too close.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He digs through the top drawer of his toolbox, looking for something specific.

“You’re such a shit liar. You know, you can trick him and everyone else, you’re probably even tricking yourself with your own bullshit, but you can’t trick me. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you. I don’t know why you ripped my best friend’s heart out of his chest and tore it to shreds, but you have to get your shit together.”

“Don’t you think you’re being slightly dramatic?” He crosses his arms, shifts his weight on his foot, pushes out his hip, and stares at her, almost daring her to continue.

“Wow, you’re a piece of work, you know that? You don’t deserve him.” Her nostrils flare as she tries to control the anger bubbling under the surface. “I know you know what it’s like to be loved by Steve Harrington, and now you know what it’s like to not have it. Is it everything you wanted? Being alone? Being miserable? Is this what you wanted for your life? You piece of shit.”

Eddie huffs a chuckle, then leans against the side of the nearby Toyota. “Yeah, yeah, it is. I’m pretty fucking great, thanks for asking. And Steve didn’t love me; that’s ridiculous. We barely hooked up for a few months. He knew what he was getting himself into. It’s not my fault if he couldn’t control his feelings.”

“Jesus, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you even believed that.” Her face falls to solemn, and Eddie’s eyes briefly widen before he catches himself. “I feel so sorry for you. I don’t know who hurt you, but Steve never deserved any of this. You could’ve been loved, taken care of, adored by one of the kindest, most generous people I know, but you chose this existence instead.” She shakes her head and turns on her feet. “You need help, man.” She doesn’t look back as she walks away from the garage.

Eddie sits in the darkness of Gareth’s parent’s guest bedroom, staring at Steve’s contact record.

Steve’s bright smile looked back at him from the screen. He remembers when he took that picture, Steve laughing at something ridiculous, and Eddie being lucky enough to memorialize it with an image.

Robin’s visit to the shop earlier that afternoon had shaken him. He thought he did relatively well controlling his emotions in front of her. Still, the second she disappeared, he collapsed onto a nearby stool, losing the strength in his limbs.

No one else had ever looked so blatantly through Eddie before, cracking through his strongly built facade.

She was right, of course she was, but it didn’t change anything.

Eddie knew staying away from Steve was the best thing for both of them.

Eddie remembers when things changed between them; it became more than casual hook-ups, and he knew it had to stop at that moment. They were getting in too deep, and there was no way Eddie could let that continue.

He was surprised to see Robin, though. He figured it would’ve been months ago, right after everything went down, if she’d shown up. Not months later, when things should’ve evened out. Sure, Steve texted him out of the blue the other day, but that happens sometimes. You get to this stage after a breakup where you kinda want to gloat or rub it in their face how much better they are now, and that was what Steve was doing, right?

There’s no way Steve’s still upset over this.

Not like Eddie is.

He had to stop seeing the kids and doing anything that reminded him of Steve.

He left Wayne’s place, too many Steve memories etched into those walls, and asked the Emersons if he could stay with them while he saved up to get his own place. He chips in to cover any extra costs he might be causing them and keeps the disturbances to a minimum.

Eddie had to change his entire life to avoid Steve.

His survival instincts push him through regret, longing, and hurt.

Eddie’s not made for romance.

He’s not made for true love or fairy tale tropes Disney shoves down our throats. 

He’s not built to survive, exposing the vulnerability of his soul to another human. Steve ruffled at the hem of that desire, and Eddie couldn’t let him unravel it.

He was never going to be good enough for Steve.

He was never going to give him what he deserved, and if he hadn’t pushed so hard and made it hurt so much, Steve would’ve never left.

It didn’t matter that it tore Eddie’s insides to shreds. It didn’t matter that it made him sink into bottles of Jagermeister until he was dry heaving. None of his actions, and how bad they hurt him, counted in the grand scheme of protecting Steve.

Eddie’s toxic.

Everyone he’s loved has been hurt by him in one way or another, and he knows it’s because of him.

He was born with this darkness inside of him that weaves through the lives of those around him until it takes them over.

He tries to cover the pain and hurt with laughter, jokes, and overcompensating with vibrato, but it never works. 

Eddie’d forgotten all about that when he started spending time with Steve.

The night’s they were together felt like they were all alone in the grand vastness of the universe, and nothing could touch them.

The slow breathing of Steve’s lungs, just lowering and raising his chest, lulling Eddie into a sense of false security.

There were days when Eddie found himself smiling at nothing. Then someone would walk by and ask what he was thinking about that made him so happy.

Then he slowly began to remember that darkness when Steve would smile at him like he was all that mattered in the world.

Eddie feared there would be a day when Steve would never look that happy again, and it would be all because of Eddie.

He didn’t want to do that to him.

Steve didn’t deserve to be ruined.

He was precious, fragile, and the man Eddie was falling for.

When he realized he was being consumed by that Harrington-pull, craving to be near Steve’s side no matter where they were or what time of day it was, he knew he needed to stop before it was too late.

Steve deserved a better life than the one Eddie Munson could provide.

Steve had the potential for an outstanding future.

He could find the love of his life, marry them, have children, be somebody, and Eddie couldn’t take that from him. So even though he wanted to crawl inside the warmth of Steve and let him consume his life’s breath, it was selfish.

He couldn’t bring himself to take Steve’s chance of true happiness. 

Eddie gets off the stiff mattress and grabs his infamous black lunchbox, and heads out the door.

“Hey man,” Eddie pops his head into Gareth’s bedroom. “You wanna join me?” He lifts his lunchbox, jiggling it a little.

“Naw, I’m good.” 

“Ok,” he tosses Gareth a nod and heads out the front door.

Gareth not joining him allows for a little more unhinged behavior, which Eddie craves.

He wants to fall hard into an abyss of sensations where no one can stop him from sinking away.

He trudges through the neighborhood until hitting the edge of the woods and slipping between overgrown brush and trees.

There’s a hidden alcove dug into the side of a couple of giant trees and rocks that he’s claimed as a home away from home. He slips in and grabs the camping chair he’s left behind, flopping into it loosely. He tosses open his lunchbox and smiles at his supplies.

He needs something more potent than the weed he would’ve smoked with Gareth.

Some days are harder than others.

When Steve can’t bring himself to pretend, he stays curled up in bed, scrolling through his socials and avoiding the world.

Those are the days when his heart constricts in his chest, and he forgets to eat all day.

Loneliness settles deep in his bones, a sensation he’s grown accustomed to. He doesn’t love how it feels, but it comforts him in a wave of familiarity.

Pain is constant, buzzing under the surface of his skin every day. It’s gotten worse, though, lately.

He wants to tell Robin, he does. He wants someone to remind him it’ll be ok, that things always work out, but he also doesn’t want to burden her with it. She has her own battles she’s fighting through, and it’s not his place to make her deal with more.

There are days he wonders if his mom has left any of her pills behind. Maybe she’ll have something a doctor gave her that could make him feel better, but he knows she never leaves anything helpful.

The expansive silence of his empty house hums painfully through his ears while he tries to focus on the images on his phone screen.

Sometimes it’s so quiet it’s too loud.

He can’t sleep when he’s like this. He’s used to being unable to sleep from nightmares. Still, during these bouts of swallowing pain, he can’t sleep because every time he closes his eyes, another day appears. If he sleeps, time continues forward, which he knows is not logical, but it’s something he feels. It feels like he’s unnecessarily wasting valuable, precious time wallowing in his feelings.

When Robin’s having bad days, she does the opposite. She sleeps days away, trying to avoid feeling the days as they pass, and Steve can understand her perspective, but that isn’t how he deals with it.

He wants to feel every passing second in case something happens so he won’t miss it.

Today’s one of the days when it hurts the most. It feels like he can’t fill his lungs correctly. He can’t get enough oxygen, which aches when he tries.

He won’t see the sky on this day or the temperature outside.

He will spend the entirety of one turn of the planet between his bedroom’s four overly stylized walls. Trapped in the space that his mother decorated and forbade him to alter.

Even though his parents never step foot within the walls, they dictate Steve’s life, including the cell he’s trapped within.

The last several months have been some of his most challenging months mentally. The years of fighting interdimensional monsters broke down his physical body, but his parents were responsible for laying the shaky foundation for his mental health.

He’s sure if you looked up Emotional Neglect in the dictionary, the Harringtons would be featured front and center.

Steve was birthed out of familial obligation.

It’s just what was expected out of a husband and wife who were putting up appearances. Steve’s mother, Linda, had clung to the possibility that if she gave her husband a son, maybe, just maybe, they would be adequate for him.

Steve, ultimately, was not enough to hold their already fragile relationship together, and he grew up being well aware of that.

This nagging desire to be seen, accepted, and validated as a human being drives Steve to make the decisions he does in his life.

He will always go first into battle.

He will always put everyone else’s needs above his own.

He will derive purpose from helping those around him so they realize how important he is and how much they need him.

He grew up a very lonely child. He was pushed into sports, and forced into activities he didn’t want to participate in, but his father would give him that approving shoulder squeeze every time Steve brought a new trophy home.

He was desperate for those interactions and acceptance by the man inherently supposed to love him. Steve imagined that if he was just a little better and worked a little harder, maybe he could fix whatever was wrong with him that made him unloveable. 

When this deep seeded, cold emptiness clashed head first into saving the world, it became a perfect storm of destruction.

He had the chance, the opportunity to leave, to get out of the mess.

Nancy pointed a gun at him and told him to leave, and he did, but then Nancy wouldn’t want him anymore, and Jonathan wouldn’t accept his apology. He couldn’t lose Nancy. She made him feel good. She was a light in the vast darkness that was his life. If he ran, he’d lose that shining brightness and be consumed by all that black again.

He had to go back.

He had no choice. He needed to be valid. He needed to be accepted and needed and wanted, and if putting his life in danger would give him those things, he would do it.

Then do it again, and again, and again.

His life is meaningless if he isn’t helpful. So, what’s the risk of almost dying if the alternative is being dead inside?

Eddie had been different, though. Eddie looked deep inside Steve and craved every inch of him. He craved Steve. He desired Steve. He wanted him so desperately that it soothed the cracks and crevices of his insecurity. That was until he blew it open and left behind a Grand Canyon-sized hole.

“Steve?” Robin’s cautious voice comes from the other side of Steve’s bedroom door.

He groans and pulls the comforter up and over his head. He wishes she didn’t have a copy of his house key.

“Hey,” she pushes his door open, taking in the sight.

Steve’s curtains are pulled tight, blocking the sun and sky from view. He’s curled up on his bed, and empty bags of chips are scattered on the floor.

“Go away,” he grumbles.

“No, you know I’m not going to.” She sits beside him on the bed, resting her hand against the nearest part of the Steve lump under the covers.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“So, uh, did you have a date with Stacy the other night?”

“Who?”

“Stacy Michaels?”

“Oh, I..uh yeah. I guess.” He pulls the edge of the comforter down over his face, tucking it under his chin. “Why?”

“I heard some things at work…her friends came in. Did you…did you like send her home mid-sex?” Robin’s cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Ugh,” Steve covers his face back up with the comforter. “Probably.”

“What the hell?” She slaps his leg, but the fabric covering him mocks the sting.

“I don’t know. I’m a fucking mess. She’s not…she wasn’t…”

“I saw him.”

“What?” Steve bolts up, the comforter falling to his waist.

“You know he works at the auto shop near downtown?”

“N-no… how’d he look? What’d you say?” A million questions were racing through his head.

“He looked exhausted and as stupid as ever. I needed to yell at him. He fucking deserved it.” She slides her body further onto the mattress, crossing her legs.

Steve adjusts and leans his back against his headboard. “What’d he say?” He was hoping she couldn’t hear the nerves through his voice.

“Not much. I told him he didn’t deserve you and that he’s an asshole. He pretended it didn’t bother him, but it did. I saw it.” She reaches forward toward him and grabs his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Steve, he doesn’t deserve the emotions and depression you’re experiencing. He’s a fucking jackass. He’s acting like he doesn’t even care. Why would you want to waste so much energy on someone like that?”

“Because it felt like something bigger. Rob, I swear. I think-I think I loved him, or at least was falling in love with him. I don’t understand what changed. Things were going so well.” He rubs his fingertips across her skin. “I wish I could explain it. But, y’know, at first, it was just fucking around, getting each other off.”

“Ew,” she groans playfully.

“But then… he’d make me breakfast, call me when I got home from work, and text me throughout the day with shit he saw or tell me what he was doing. He’d hold my hand when we were on the couch. Then, he started to call me sweetheart. It felt so fucking right.” Steve sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

Robin watched him, wishing she could fix it. “Then… nothing?”

“Then? After one of the most…” he clears his throat before continuing. “Romantic times we’d had sex, he was getting dressed and said we couldn’t do that anymore.”

Robin’s eyes narrow, and she leans in slightly. “Romantic?”

“Yeah, um,” he covers his face trying to hide. “We kinda…I mean, you could call it making love. It was different. It was intense. Then he just changed. I would’ve been less surprised if he’d dumped a cold bucket of water on me.”

“Hmm,” Robin tilts her head and screws up her face, mulling something over.

“What?”

“Do you think he got scared? If it was as romantic as you say, maybe whatever emotions he was feeling got intense and freaked him out.” She shrugged at him.

“Eddie? Scared? No, no, I think, if anything, I freaked him out. Maybe he saw it on my face or something and was like, ‘fuck this,’ and left. He didn’t want to deal with my shit.”

“Well, if that’s true, then fuck him even more. I don’t care what you say. You deserve to be wined, dined, and sixty-nined.” 

He chuckles at her and feels his chest loosen slightly. “Thanks, Rob. I wish he’d talk to me, be honest with me.”

“Let’s do something. I don’t know, but like, get out of town or go on a road trip or something.”

“I promised the kids I’d take them to the carnival this weekend. I can’t.”

“Well, that’s good. At least you’ll be out of the house.”

“You wanna come with? Keep me company while I try to keep them alive?”

“They’re teenagers, dingus. You don’t need to babysit them anymore.”

“Tell that to Claudia Henderson or Mrs. Sinclair. They all look at me with that glare of ‘protect them with your life.” He plays off an exaggerated fake shiver.

“I’ll go, but we’re having fun too. None of this standing around watching them ride rides bullshit.” She flicks at his leg, protected by the covers.

“Deal, I’ll pick you up.”

“Obviously.”

“Hey, did you hear there’s a carnival in town this weekend?” Gareth spins a ballpoint pen between his fingers mindlessly.

“Shit, yeah? We should get high and go.” Eddie thumps his fingertips against his chest to the beat of the Pantera album pounding through a nearby speaker.

“When is Jeff coming home?”

“I think he said sometime in June.”

“I miss the band, dude.” Gareth murmurs.

Eddie sits up, leaning on his palm. “What if we just play?”

“It’s kinda hard with a guitar and drums, man. We need at least a bass player.”

“White Stripes did it.”

“And we’re not the White Stripes. Seven Nation Army, my ass.” Gareth huffs.

“Oh, come on, they were good. We can make our own Corroded version of that.” Eddie pushes Gareth’s shoulder playfully.

“Maybe.” Eddie can see Gareth’s mind turning, thinking it over.

“We could write new music. Do our own thing, even.” Eddie’s heart is picking up speed as he contemplates that possibility.

“Like, a new band? Just us?”

“Yeah!” Eddie’s smiling wide, excited at the prospect of starting a new activity.

“What about the guys? It’s not like we split up or anything. They’re just off at college.”

“Yeah, and when they come back, we can still play with them, but we can do this on the side. Like Velvet Revolver.” Eddie slides on the mattress to his knees and starts bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Our own little supergroup? I mean, that’s not too bad. And if we need some bass, I could probably find something on Soundcloud, like a generic beat, or something on YouTube we could play in the background.”

“Is that a yes?” Eddie leans over and grips Gareth’s shoulder tight.

“Yeah, yeah, ok. Let’s do it.”

“FUCK YEA!” Eddie jumps off the bed and punches the air. “Yes, I needed a new hyper fixation. Let’s do this. When do you wanna start? Now?”

“Dude, chill, no, not now. My mom’s home, and it’s almost 9 pm. She’ll kill us if we start now. I have to work tomorrow from 2 to 8 pm. Do you work tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, shit. I have the 7 to 1 pm shift. Well, I can start fucking around when you go to work, and before we go to the carnival on Saturday, we can dick around together and find our sound.”

“Cool, ok. Wanna play some Skyrim?”

“Let’s go.” Eddie grabs his vape pen and follows Gareth to his room.

“Don’t go wandering off, ok?” Steve stands with his hands on his hips while six annoyed teenagers roll their eyes at him.

“Yes, Mom.” Dustin always gave him the most grief.

“I’m serious. Meet back here at 8 pm.” He points between the group. “Don’t be late.”

“We get it. You’re an adult.” Max grabs El’s hand and runs in the opposite direction.

Steve huffs and turns to Robin for some kind of mutual support.

“What? They have a point. Can we go get a funnel cake?”

Steve rolls his eyes and hears the other teens run in the same direction as the girls. He tosses his hands up and shuffles to a nearby food cart.

“Do you want anything else?” Steve stands before the menu, eyeing the fried and frozen offerings.

“Fried butter? Gag.” Robin makes a noise of disgust.

“They have fried Twinkies too.” Steve points to a line on the menu.

“That’s better than butter but still pretty disgusting.”

Steve laughs and looks back at Robin. She watches as his face falls and the color in his cheeks fade.

“Whoa, are you ok?” She gently places her hand on his shoulder.

He blinks slowly. “Eddie.” His voice croaks.

“What?” Robin whips around to see Eddie laughing and bouncing on his feet, smacking Gareth with a Redvine. “Fuck.” She huffs to herself. “Hey, we can….”

Steve’s feet are moving before he even realizes it. He pushes past Robin and stomps toward Eddie. His ears are humming loudly, and all he can feel is his pulse slamming against his veins.

“Munson!” Steve yells across the space between them.

Eddie turns in the direction of his name and sees Steve barreling toward him. His eyes widen as Steve approaches him, rearing his right arm back and plowing his fist directly into Eddie’s face.

“Whoa,” Gareth moves to grab Eddie, who stumbles back and falls to the ground.

“Fuck you,” Steve spits at Eddie, towering over him, ignoring the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Steve!” Robin runs up behind him and grabs his wrist, pulling him away.

Steve keeps his eyes locked on Eddie, who’s still leaning back on the dirt. He has blood dripping down his nose, staring at Steve like he’s never seen him before. 

Steve’s bottom lip begins to quiver as the tears fall down his cheeks of their own accord.

Robin continues pulling him away while Gareth helps Eddie to his feet.

The two men stare at each other. Steve hopes this is the version of him Eddie will see when he closes his eyes now.

“It’s not worth it, come on. He’s not worth it.” Robin tries to soothe Steve, pulling him to a nearby picnic table.

Eddie wipes his hand under his nose, spreading the blood across his cheek. While pulling Eddie away, Gareth looks back at Steve fearfully.

“Jesus Christ, what did you do to Harrington?” Gareth looks over at Eddie cautiously.

Eddie runs his hands over his chest and pants, trying to dust himself off. “Doesn’t matter.”

“What the fuck? Doesn’t matter? I haven’t seen him like that in years.” Gareth leads them to a concession stand, grabs a handful of napkins from the dispenser, and hands them to Eddie.

Eddie wipes them across his face, trying to clear the blood away. “I deserved it.”

“Deserved it? Did you kill his dog or something? What did you do?”

“No, just leave it alone, man. I deserve worse than that. If Steve wants to punch me every time he sees me, he can.” Eddie tosses the bloody napkins in a nearby trashcan and then grabs more clean ones.

“Dude, no. Like that was a fucking sucker punch.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Eddie holds a wad of napkins under his nose and motions to an exit.

“Shit, we just fucking got here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really in the mood now. If you wanna stay, that’s fine, but you gotta find your own ride home.”

“Naw, I’ll come with you. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shuffles his feet and hangs his head low as they trudge to the exit.

He doesn’t look back but is sure he can feel a set of amber-colored eyes boring a hole into his skull.

“What the fuck, Steve?” Robin pushes him, forcing him to fall onto the bench of a nearby picnic table.

He swings his legs around and sits facing the table. Covering his face to hide his tears, he leans forward, leaning all his weight on his hands.

“I-I just…” His tears are coming faster than he can try and choke them back.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Robin’s voice turns gentle, and she sits beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her cheek against his shoulder. “Sorry, hey, you’re ok.”

“That was…I haven’t seen him since. I-I don’t know what happened.” He’s trying to catch his breath and calm himself down.

People are milling around, watching what’s going on. Seeing Steve Harrington lose it and punch the infamous Eddie Munson would be town gossip before tomorrow morning.

“Oh, dingus. I’m sorry.” Robin looks up and sees Gareth and Eddie passing napkins between each other.

She catches Eddie’s gaze and scowls at him, but his face falls, giving her an embarrassed apologetic glance. She’s surprised and turns her attention back to Steve.

“He looked good,” Steve’s voice is shaky while he wipes his hands over his face.

“If you like that kinda thing.” Robin runs her hand over his shirt. “You looked kinda badass, though.”

“Yeah?” Steve leans his head over, trying to rest it against Robin’s.

“Yeah. Do you at least feel a little better?”

“No,” he sighs.

Steve opens his eyes and sees Eddie and Gareth walking from a concession stand. With Eddie’s head hanging low, Steve ignores the pull deep in his gut that the view causes him.

“Wanna go ride on the Gravitron until we puke?”

“Can we ride on it and stop just before we puke?”

“Fine, only because you’re feeling shitty. How’s your hand?” Robin grabs his right hand and cradles it.

“It kinda hurts. It’ll be worse tomorrow.”

“We could probably get a popcorn bucket and ask them to fill it with ice.”

“Naw, I’ll be fine.”

“All right, well, come on.” Robin grabs his elbow and starts yanking him to his feet.

“Steve!” Dustin runs up to Steve and Robin, who share an oversized soda. “Did you stab Eddie?”

“What?” Steve chokes a little on the beverage.

“We heard you stabbed Eddie.” Dustin rests his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Mike and Will come up behind him shortly, also breathing heavily.

“Holy shit, no, he didn’t stab him,” Robin interjects. “He did punch him directly in the nose, though.”

Steve whips his head to stare at her, and she shrugs.

“Wait, you did?” Mike asks.

Steve lowers his head in embarrassment. “Yeah.”

“Why?” Dustin asks. “Is it ’cause he abandoned all of us?”

“No…no, it’s complicated.”

Eddie and Steve had never told the kids about their relationship.

At first, it was because they were just fuck buddies, and that’s not really something you share with many high schoolers. But then it was because the pair ignored the truth that they were even in a relationship.

They would lie about their evenings, movie nights, dinners, and nights out drinking together. And when Eddie broke everything off, he didn’t give an explanation to The Party either. He just stopped replying to texts. He ghosted the reigning Hellfire Club members and avoided them all at any cost. This left Steve holding the bag, trying to come up with some explanation.

“I mean, it kinda is.” Robin nudges Steve. “You shoulda seen him. You know how he gets that look in his eye when he’s walking around with that bat? Eddie got to see that directed at him.” She raised her eyebrows and took a large sip of their drink.

“Bitchin’,” El says quietly. The girls had joined the group after the boys, having opted not to run.

“Yeah, bitchin’.” Robin smiles wide.

Steve rolls his eyes. “No, it wasn’t. Are you all done? Can we go home now?” Steve looks at his watch.

“No, we still have 45 minutes. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting arrested.” Dustin waves at him, and the boys run off again.

Max grabs El and Lucas’ hands and pulls them toward one of the nearby games.

“Wanna see if I can win that oversized frog?” Robin points to a florescent pink stuffed frog hanging up at the ring toss game.

“You’d spend less money just buying one on Amazon.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it. Come on.” She loops her arm in his and pulls him toward the stand.

Steve holds his phone in his hands and stares at the message briefly before sending it.

Steve’s surprised to see the three dots appear, telling him Eddie was responding. He imagined it would be one of those hundreds of times he’d texted him and never got an answer. Eddie’s response to his last text had been surprising, regardless of how hurtful it had been.

Steve’s chest hurts reading Eddie asking about his well-being in any way. It feels like the door’s been cracked open, and he’s scared Eddie will slam it shut again. Then, the overwhelming urge to fix it and return to his good graces takes over.

✨ ✨

Eddie’s heart aches at the idea Steve thought he’d left. Eddie had done such a great job at avoiding everyone and everything to the point that Steve didn’t even know he still lived within 5 miles of him.

He grabs the room-temperature beer on his nightstand and takes another pain pill from a nearby bottle. Then, swallowing both down, he summons the courage to reply.

Eddie stares at his phone and makes an impulsive decision. Maybe Steve had knocked some things around in his head earlier, perhaps it was the pills swirling in his bloodstream, or maybe it was seeing the pain Eddie’d created staring back at him through Steve’s eyes.

He’d spent months telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. Steve was better off, and he was sure he was doing fine but seeing the tears, the anger, and the hurt flooding from Steve as he barreled towards him cracked his remaining resolve.

And he’d meant it. He was sorry. He was sorry for so many things, and putting it all into words was hard.

He collapsed back onto his mattress, his feet hanging over the edge.

Eddie swallows, trying to stop the lump forming in his throat.

He didn’t use him.

He didn’t want Steve to think that he used him.

He thinks it hurts more to read those words than if Steve had said them to his face.

“Fuck,” Eddie exhales.

Eddie’s hands shake, and he knows it’s his fault Steve feels that way. Probably hard to think it was anything else when Eddie keeps confirming they weren’t anything more than sex.

He closes his eyes, trying to soothe his nerves.

Terrified was more like it.

He wants to tell him, fling himself at the mercy of Steve’s feet and beg for his forgiveness because as much as he pretended Robin wasn’t dead on accurate, she was. Eddie misses Steve every minute of every day.

But he’s not brave enough.

He can feel the medication swirling through him now. He welcomes the calm, relaxing his frayed senses.

✨ ✨

Steve’s phone hangs in his hands between his knees as he leans over, sitting on the edge of his couch.

He stares at Eddie’s reply, reading it over and over again. His stomach twists at what that was supposed to mean.

Ruin him?

Steve waits, and waits, and waits, and waits some more, hoping for some kind of answer, but it doesn’t come.

Eddie doesn’t reply, and after an hour of restarting his phone and obsessively checking his connection, he resigns himself to not knowing the answer.

He succumbs to believing he pushed too far. He knew he shouldn’t have said those things, been so brutal and honest because that crack in the door wasn’t stable. But he couldn’t help it. His anger and frustration took over, and he wanted to scream.

After months of cruel silence, the man dared to apologize and not even explain himself.

Steve deserved more than that. Didn’t he?

Maybe not.

When he falls asleep, he’s curled up on his couch. His cheek is smooshed into a throw pillow while his phone rests inches from his face. Finally, the tears he’s been shedding are able to dry, and exhaustion takes over.

Eddie groans as he’s awoken by banging on his bedroom door.

“Eddie? You up, man?”

“No!” He yells and throws his pillow at the door.

“Don’t you have work?” Gareth asks.

“Shit!” He sits up, grabbing his head as a headache slams into him. “Fuck.”

He looks down and realizes he’s still wearing his clothes. His phone is on the floor by his bed. He grabs it and finds it dead. Last night comes back to him, and he winces as he realizes he must’ve passed out while talking to Steve.

“Shit, you’re such a moron.” He slides the charging cord into his phone, hoping to gain a few percentages of charge while he gets ready for work.

He rushes through a shower and throws his hair into a wet messy bun. While brushing his teeth, he eyes his face, and a deepened purple bruise sits below his eye, probably in the shape of Steve’s fist. Eddie runs his finger across it carefully, wishing it was worse.

He deserved worse.

When he returns to his room, he grabs his phone and sees it’s at 12%. That’s as good as he’s going to get for now. He pushes it on, watching the dark screen spring to life. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath as he clicks on his texts and rereads Steve’s last message.

“Shit, shit.” Clicking the screen off, he slides his phone into his pocket and rushes out the front door.

They don’t text again.

Weeks pass, Eddie’s face heels, Steve doesn’t stare at his texts before bed every night, and things are almost back to normal.

“Are you nervous?” Robin chews on the end of her straw.

“Kinda, I know it’ll be fine, but it’s still a new job. Starting over, having to learn the new office politics shit, but actual children’ll be surrounding me, so maybe the adults won’t act like them so much.” Steve swirls his latte, letting the ice clink along the sides of the cup.

“You’re going to be covered in so much glitter.”

“Hopefully not,” he scrunches his face at her.

“You will. You’ll look like you left a strip club every day.”

Steve rolls his eyes at her; she might be right.

“Steve?”

Steve sees a blast from his past standing beside their table, clutching a small hot beverage.

“Carol, oh wow, hey.” Steve awkwardly looks at Robin, then pushes himself to his feet and hugs Carol Perkins. “How are you? It’s been a long time.” He steps away and slides back into his seat.

“Yeah, a couple of years. I’m good, moving back to town, actually.” She gives Robin a shy smile and then looks back to Steve. “You look…good. How are you doing?” Steve notices her eyes flit across him, taking in his appearance.

“Good, yeah. I’m going to Hawkins Community right now and actually starting a new job this afternoon.”

“Oh, that’s cool, congrats. What kind of job?”

“I’m working at a childcare center with pre-k kids.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, watching her take in this information.

“That’s cool. Wow, sounds like fun.” She smiles fondly at him.

“Hey, I’m Robin.” Robin gives Carol a small wave and nudges Steve’s foot under the table.

“Oh yeah, this is my best friend, Robin. She went to school with us, actually.”

“You did?” Carol grips the strap of her purse nervously.

“Yeah, but I was a couple of years behind you.” Robin pulls her straw out of her drink and continues chewing on the end.

“Oh,” Carol chuckles with relief. “Then I probably wasn’t a bitch to you, so that’s good.”

Robin makes a surprised face, and Steve chokes a little at her comment.

“Uh, nope.” Robin presses her lips together.

“That’s a relief. Hey, uh, speaking of which. I kinda owe you an apology, Steve.” Carol shifts her eyes and stares at her shoes. “I was terrible, um, Tommy wasn’t…the greatest influence, and I guess I took out my own shit on everyone around us. Including you.” She glances up at Steve, and he’s watching her cautiously. “We were supposed to be friends, and I didn’t do a great job of that. Moving to Indy and getting away from all of this,” she motions around herself. “Helped me realize I had a lot of growing up to do. So, I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Oh,” he sighs and takes in her face. She looks authentically sorry, and it fills his chest with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a while. “Thanks, Carol. That means a lot.”

“Yeah, well, it was nice seeing you. Unfortunately, I need to head out, but do you have the same number?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, it’s the same.”

“Can I text you sometime?” She nervously bites her lip, and Steve wants to run his thumb across it, pulling it from her teeth.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles at her and sees a gentle blush spread across her cheeks.

“Cool,” she ducks her head and shifts on her feet. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Robin. I’ll talk to you later, Steve.”

“Yeah,” Steve gives her an awkward wave as she shuffles out of the coffee shop.

“What the hell did I just witness?” Robin is still staring at the door.

“I don’t know.” And he means it.

Steve never had feelings for Carol when they were in school. She was his best friend’s girlfriend. She was off limits, which meant she wasn’t an option in his head.

He doesn’t know what to do with these feelings now. They’re uncomfortable but enjoyable.

He hasn’t felt that rush through his stomach since Eddie. He thought maybe he wouldn’t feel them again after the man, but Carol Perkins was giving him the warm fuzzies.

“Didn’t she date Tommy?”

“Yeah, but they broke up senior year after he and I stopped speaking to each other.”

“Are you going to go out with her?” Robin’s rolling her straw up.

“I don’t know. Should I?”

Robin’s eyes go wide. “I have no clue. Do you even like her like that?”

“I didn’t think I did, but I was feeling something there.” Steve’s eyes are locked on the ice in his cup, watching it slowly melt and water down his drink.

“Does this mean you’re over, Eddie?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, shrugging and not making eye contact with her.

“Has he texted you since that night?”

“No,” he takes a deep inhale. “That’s ok, though. I don’t care.”

“That’s a lie, but ok. Well, I think you should go out with her if you think you’re ready. It might be nice to date someone who doesn’t treat you like shit and apologizes to your face when they mess up.” Robin clicks her tongue.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Dude! I love this fucking song.” Eddie lifts his drink up and bops his head to the thumping drum beat blasting through the speakers of the small crowded bar. “We gotta cover this song, man. That would be sick.” Eddie’s yelling over the music.

Gareth nods and bops his head to the beat as well. Eddie’s shaking his leg under the bar table. It’s vibrating his chair gently.

They’re both looking around the bar, not for anything in particular, just taking in the scene for the night.

“Isn’t that Steve?” Gareth nods, motioning across the room to a table near the back by the dart boards.

“What?” Eddie’s stomach drops, and he scans the room toward Gareth’s motion.

He finds Steve smiling wide, holding a mixed drink near his chest, standing painfully close to someone.

Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to see who the other person is. It looks like a woman, her hair gracing her shoulders, and she’s resting her hand on Steve’s bicep. Steve laughs at something she says.

Eddie thinks someone just stabbed him in his chest from the sharp pain that view causes him.

“Is he on a date?” Gareth asks what Eddie is wondering.

Steve ducks his head closer to her to tell her something, and when he leans back up, they’re standing even closer.

Eddie’s chest is pounding, and he wants to do something destructive.

He’s craving to cover the pain Steve still inflicts within him.

“Shots?” He slides from his stool and moves to the bar, not waiting for Gareth’s response.

When he returns, he’s juggling four shot glasses of clear liquid.

“Dude, I don’t need two of these.” Gareth huffs as Eddie slides the glasses across the tabletop.

“Fine, more for me.” Before Eddie sits, he grabs a shot and tosses it back quickly. “Shiiit.” The bite of the sharp liquid takes Eddie’s breath away. “That’s better.”

He huffs and slides back to his seat, leaving the empty glass near the table’s edge while pulling the other two closer.

“I take it the two of you haven’t spoken still?” Gareth leans on his arms, staring pointedly at Eddie.

“Not really,” Eddie keeps his eyes looking anywhere else. “We texted a little that night. Maybe we could’ve at least gotten to a point where he wouldn’t punch me if he saw me again. But I had to go and do something so very Eddie Munson-like and passed out mid-conversation.” Eddie lifts another shot glass to his mouth and tosses his head back, letting the burn tear through his esophagus.

“Jesus Christ, man. How’d you do that?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Well, I was in fucking pain from him punching me, so I took some pills and washed them down with beer. Not my best moment, but in all fairness, I didn’t think I’d end up talking to him.”

“You gonna tell me what happened between the two of you?”

“Nope,” Eddie shoots back the last shot and slams it down on the table. “Doesn’t fucking matter, anyway.” Eddie’s eyes slide across the room, finding Steve.

“By the way you’re staring at him, I’d say it matters a lot.”

“Naw, man. I’m moving on.” Eddie tosses his hands in the air with a flourish, trying to shake his nerves inconspicuously. “I’m getting more shots.” He jumps off his chair, scoops the empties, and rushes back to the bar.

Eddie elbows through the crowd blocking the bar, and slides the empty glasses out in front of him. The bartender sees the movement and nods, so Eddie motions for another round. While he waits, he turns to look around, and his eyes immediately lock onto a surprised amber-colored pair.

Eddie sees Steve’s face pale just as their eyes meet. Carol doesn’t notice that Steve has stopped moving while she squeezes toward the bar. Eddie can feel the shots finally hitting him while his stomach flips over the immediate confrontation.

“That’ll be $17.50.”

Eddie hears the bartender behind him, and he slowly turns around, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Yeah, thanks.” Eddie slides cash across the bar, then pauses a beat before grabbing one and shooting it down immediately.

When he scoops the other glasses into his hands, Eddie turns around cautiously, trying to avoid looking at Steve. He doesn’t want to get punched again in the middle of a crowd.

✨ ✨

Steve watches as Eddie slowly turns to face him again. He’s clutching shot glasses carefully in his hands. While Steve stands frozen in place, Carol slides into the opening Eddie creates, not noticing the man.

Eddie keeps his eyes lowered as he tries to squeeze through. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes dart around, trying to find an opening to avoid Steve. Before he realizes, Steve’s feet move him into Eddie’s path. Eddie lowers his head, but Steve watches as he squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard before lifting his chin to look at Steve.

“Hi,” Steve says, too quiet to actually hear.

Eddie shuffles the shot glasses, lifts another one to his mouth, and tilts his head back. He winces and then looks into Steve’s eyes.

“Hey.”

“Steve! Hey, Steve, what did you want?” Carol’s voice cuts through the loud music.

The question seeps into Steve’s brain as he and Eddie hold each other’s gaze. They both are swaying slightly from the alcohol they’ve consumed, and he knows she means what he wants to drink, but what Steve really wants is standing in front of him.

“Date?” Eddie asks warily.

Steve shrugs and chews on his bottom lip nervously. It was. Or at least it was an hour ago. Steve’s not so sure now with Eddie’s mouth so nearby. The last time he saw the curly-haired man, he’d slammed his fist into his face. But right now, he wants to slam his mouth against his. It has to be the alcohol.

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes scan his face, his eyebrows furrowing, something clearly running through his mind. Eddie sighs, and his face slips into pained sadness. Then, looking away from Steve’s eyes, he huffs a fake laugh.

“I fucked up,” Eddie mumbles to himself and shrugs.

“Steve! Steve!” Carol continues trying to get Steve’s attention.

Steve steps closer to Eddie, crowding his space, standing too close to be casual. He can see a glassy haze swimming in Eddie’s eyes.

“Stevie,” Eddie’s voice cracks. “You smell good.”

“Hey, hey, Steve?” Carol steps to Steve’s side and looks between the two men. “What? Are you ok? Did you hear me?”

Steve doesn’t look away from Eddie for a beat before nodding his response to her. “I have to go to the bathroom. Get me a… what are those?” Steve nods to the shots in Eddie’s hands.

“Tequila,” Eddie slurs. “Well.”

“Get me one of those.”

“A shot?” She moves closer, trying to catch his eyes.

He doesn’t verbally respond, only nodding his answer.

“O-ok.” She shakes her head and heads to the bar, away from the men.

“Can I have one?”

Eddie stares at Steve, clearly contemplating his response. “Fuck it,” Eddie offers a shot to Steve, who takes it carefully.

“Cheers?”

Eddie chuckles, “Yeah, cheers, Stevie, fucking cheers.” He says solemnly.

They clink the shots together and, in tandem, suck them down.

Steve then runs his tongue across his lips, licking back a drop of the alcohol. He watches Eddie follow the movement closely.

Before Steve can overthink it, he grips Eddie’s wrist tightly between his fingers. The touch of the skin sends a surge of adrenaline to his veins. He then shifts his feet and pulls the man with him through the crowd. Eddie stumbles but stays upright, not resisting the urgent pull.

Steve’s eyes are cravingly searching for an exit or bathroom door; shit, he’d take a closet door. He sees an opening in the back corner that most likely leads to somewhere with options.

“Ste-eve?” Eddie mumbles behind Steve, still following along with the tug.

Steve’s relieved when he sees a heavy metal door labeled with a red glowing exit sign. Pushing it without hesitation, it slams open, almost taking someone out who was trying to get back inside.

“Shit, sorry.” Steve gives the man an apologetic look and realizes he’s found where the smokers mingle.

Pulling Eddie behind, he sets his empty shot glass on a nearby table. Then he slides past an opening in the small fenced-in patio, moving around the corner of the building. Once alone, he yanks Eddie closer, then slams his back against the brick building.

“Oof,” Eddie groans at the unexpected aggression.

Steve steps into him, presses his chest against Eddie’s, and grips his face. His entire body is shaking in anticipation. He can feel Eddie shaking just as hard in response.

“Steve?” Eddie furrows his brows and stares nervously, his hands hanging at his sides, still holding the empty shot glasses.

Steve’s eyes rake across Eddie’s face, trying to consume every inch of him. He wants to solidify the memory in case he never gets to be this close again. He knows he’s being selfish. He knows he’s taking advantage of the moment, of the alcohol-induced state of the man, but he doesn’t care.

“I fucking- shit!” Steve inhales deeply, then leans in, crashing his mouth onto Eddie’s.

Eddie doesn’t respond at first, but it doesn’t stop Steve. When Eddie’s brain catches up to what’s occurring, he drops the shot glasses to his side, slivers of glass crashing on the concrete below. He brings his hands to Steve’s face, and they both hold each other while messily devouring their lips. Steve groans and leans further against Eddie, pressing his hips into the man plastered against the wall. 

Eddie responds with a bite to Steve’s bottom lip and a desperate guttural groan, grinding himself back.

They both rutt against each other desperately, seeking release from one another. Their teeth clash, and their fingers are digging into their skin. Frustration, anger, longing, and desire are drowning their senses.

They’re breathing heavily, getting lightheaded with a lack of oxygen, but not caring for one second.

Eddie’s hands slide around Steve’s neck, pulling him closer somehow. The kiss is more pressing skin against skin, rubbing their lips and tongues against each other, than actual kissing.

Steve scrapes his fingers down Eddie’s neck, pulling a hiss from the man’s throat. Finally, finding the collar of Eddie’s faded t-shirt and twisting his fingers into the fabric to grip it tight. His knuckles are turning white while the cotton fabric stretches under his grasp.

They’ve forgotten they’re outside. They’ve forgotten anyone could catch them. They’ve forgotten everything around them and are consumed by the sensations and sounds being caused by the other man. The world has faded into nothing but Steve and Eddie.

Eddie hooks his ankle around Steve’s leg, his heel hitting the back of Steve’s knee, and moans as he presses his crotch harder into the other man. Steve responds in like, and they’re humping against each other, moaning with abandon.

Steve’s heart is hammering against his ribcage as he chases his release. No one has or ever will compare to Eddie Munson.

The moans coming from Steve shift and pitch higher as he gets closer to the edge. Eddie’s sounds fall deeper, enjoying pulling the whimpers from Steve’s chest. They’ve both missed the way they sound together.

Eddie always compared their sounds to a symphony. They each play their part and harmonize in sync with one another. At the time, Steve didn’t understand. But after months of not hearing Eddie fall apart and finding nothing but inferior substitutes, his ears are singing with the melody fusing between them now.

That familiar twist deep in his guts starts to build as he presses his entire body harder against Eddie. Their chests are flush, and their hips have transitioned into rough grinding. Steve’s still gripping Eddie’s shirt collar with one hand while the other moves to the top of Eddie’s head. His fingers twist in the deep dark curls of his hair, pulling it taut on his scalp.

Tomorrow they will be covered with sore muscles, bruises, and unavoidable memories.

Steve presses his forehead against Eddie’s, their lips touching as they pant into each other’s mouths. Eddie slides his right hand down Steve’s back, twisting his fist into his shirt hem, trying to pull the other man closer.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” Steve pants into Eddie’s mouth.

“Do it,” Eddie licks into Steve’s mouth, eliciting a melting whimper. “Fucking cum for me. I fucking need it, Steve.”

The rough denim fabric of Steve’s jeans is grating across his hard cock, and he can’t find himself giving one shit about the burn he’ll have tomorrow.

His whimpers move up an octave, and he knows he’s close. Eddie knows that pitch, knows Steve’s moments away, and pivots his hips to move in a circular motion to offset Steve’s straightforward grinding.

“Ah, fuck, y-yeah.” Steve closes his eyes, and his head lolls back while his mouth falls open.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie pulls Steve’s hair tighter in his clutch with one hand while gripping his shirt tighter in the other. “Fucking cum, Stevie. I got you; I’m right here.”

Steve opens his eyes and pulls his chin down, staring into Eddie’s face. The seam of his jeans adds the perfect sensation to the pressure against his dick.

Eddie’s panting hard. His tongue is displayed, pressed against his bottom lip. Steve sees fire and brimstone flickering in the irises of Eddie’s eyes.

He quickly releases his right hand from the shirt collar, crashing it hard against Eddie’s cheek. The slap bites the skin, pulling a growling laugh from Eddie’s chest.

“Fuck, I missed you.” Eddie leans forward and captures Steve’s mouth to kiss him sloppily before releasing him with a snarl.

“I hate you,” Steve whispers against Eddie’s mouth.

“No, you don’t.” Eddie snaps and moves his hand from Steve’s shirt to the waistband of his jeans. “You fucking missed me.”

“Shut up.”

“Say it.” Eddie’s pulling the denim tighter as they chase their release.

“Fucking shut up.” Steve’s so close.

“Say it, baby. Fucking tell me how much you missed me. Cause I missed you.” Eddie’s voice cracks as he whispers the end.

“Shut up,” Steve’s voice wavers, losing the confidence he was desperately clutching onto.

“I missed you, Stevie. I’m fucking sorry.”

“S-shut up,” Steve closes his eyes, pressing back tears. While his hips begin to falter.

“I’m fucking sorry. I need you, baby.” Steve hears the last straw in Eddie’s voice snap, and he can’t take it anymore.

He scrunches his face and moves his hands to Eddie’s chest, pushing himself away from the man and stepping back. His hips move two more times before they catch up with his brain.

“SHUT UP!” Steve yells into Eddie’s face. His entire body is shuddering as he tries to unwind the confusing emotions knotted in his chest. “SHUT UP! You can’t-YOU CAN’T SAY THAT TO ME!” Steve spins on his heels, turning away from Eddie and making fists with his hands at his sides. He tilts his head to the night sky and screams.

The release feels more potent than any orgasm.

It feels like a python crawling from his guts up his throat and out of his mouth, finally releasing him from a clinched grasp.

His knees buckle when the tightness that has been present for months finally lets go. He falls to the ground, his palms slapping against the cement while his chest heaves trying to catch its breath.

There’s a commotion on the side of the building when a few people come to check on the screams they heard coming from Steve.

Eddie’s still pressed against the wall. His face is stark white, and he’s terrified. Any buzz from the alcohol or what the two of them had been doing has drained from his system.

He stares at Steve, unsure of what to do.

Steve’s still on his hands and knees, gasping for breath as tears stream down his face. They fall to the ground below, making a tiny pool beneath him.

“You ok, man?” Someone asks.

Steve nods slowly, then inhales and pushes himself back onto his heels. He wipes his palms on his thighs, spreading dirt and tiny pebbles across his jeans. He nods again when he turns to face the stranger.

“Ya, sure?”

Tears still fall from Steve’s face, but they’re silent now.

There’s nothing left inside of him.

He gave it all to the night sky.