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Steve didn’t know who to turn to after Starcourt.
His parents were perpetually out of town, the kids were all either at the hospital or with family, and the adults were all with their kids. He was alone, really. He didn’t have many friends other than his gang of small children and their siblings.
So as he sat in the back of the ambulance, thin wool blanket thrown around his shoulders, Steve thought about what to do. Who to call. Where to drive. His mind ran in endless circles of the people he knew. He drifted into a hazy reverie of his high school years, of shot-gunning beers and sucking cigarettes. Of his stupid friends and his even stupider basketball team. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe everything really was bullshit. Steve’s polished high school career meant nothing when he couldn’t even make it to college, or keep contact with anyone of importance, or get a decent job. None of it mattered. It never did. How did he ever care about something so trivial?
A defeated sigh left Steve’s lips. What the hell was he going to do? He dropped his head into his palms and tugged at his hair sprayed roots. He stayed that way until a heavy hand found itself on his shoulder. Steve whipped around so fast he tore some of his hair out.
“Woah, Stevie, don’t get too excited,” Steve knew that voice. He knew the wild eyes that accompanied it, knew the weight of the rings hastily slung on each finger.
“Eddie?” His voice shook like a flame. Steve finally stared up at him, eyes already brimming with tears. Kind irises looked back at him, holding him in an achingly warm embrace.
Eddie and Steve had…a history, if you could even call it that. It consisted of heated make-outs in the back of Eddie’s car in abandoned parking lots and hookups in Steve’s bedroom with the door locked, even though he knew no one would try to come in.
With only his four walls for company, Steve never did know why he locked the door. Maybe it was fear. If he locked the door, then he locked away that part of himself for good. His queerness only existed behind padlocks and barbed wire. That was what he thought he wanted.
That was what he wanted until the end of his senior year.
He and Eddie had been hooking up for the better part of 1984. Their dynamic had been known and well-established. There was no wining and dining before sex; no romance, or chaste kisses, or candle-lit dinners. It was an unspoken rule that had existed between them. A solid something that barred off their hearts from ever becoming intertwined. But Steve took a sledgehammer to that wall when he called Eddie one night for no reason at all.
“Just wanted to hear your voice s’all,” is what he had said. It was stupid and reckless and filled with thinly-veiled yearning that neither of them were ready to acknowledge.
But Eddie complied, and all they did was talk. It was mundane; almost domestic, and it was so sweet and unlike anything the two had ever engaged in before. It was scary, but Steve was chasing the thrill. He had dipped his toes into the unknown and was now plunging headfirst into the unfamiliar water.
Calls like those had persisted all through the summer. Sometimes Eddie initiated, sometimes Steve, but they all ended with the same warm feeling in both their chests. That feeling was one they danced around; twirling and twirling until they believed they lost the feeling in the music.
Then Steve got a job.
It started eating away at his time, for one, but it also forced him back into the box of being “King Steve”. He got caught up with the girls he thought he needed to impress, and that started to be the only thing he would talk to Eddie about. Steve thought the queer had been sucked right out of him, that it was a good thing, but all he felt was empty. Like some secret part of him had been ripped out under his feet and he could do nothing to stop it. He didn’t know how to stop it.
As the days at Scoops progressed, Eddie’s calls shortened. He always had something to do, somewhere to be, another customer to deal to. Steve knew what he sounded like over the phone. He knew it and yet he still pushed. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he keep talking about stupid, stupid girls when something infinitely better was right in front of him?
Eddie’s calls stopped a week before The Russian Incident. Steve waited by the phone all day before his shift, and then waited by the phone at scoops, and then waited by the phone back at his house. It never rang. He knew it wouldn’t, but he had hope that there was the slight chance that Eddie might call. Just to check in or say hi or bother him or do anything at all.
Steve’s hope was short lived as the days dragged on. He started to snap at his friends. Robin could sense the shift in his energy (not just from the yelling) and tried asking him what was wrong on multiple occasions, even though Steve always brushed it off.
“It’s nothing Robin, okay? I’m fine, just tired. This job is driving me nuts. ”
That was his go-to excuse when his friends tried to question his drastic change in temper. He was always tired, annoyed with customers, annoyed with his parents. Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be honest. He was disgusted with himself for acting like a queer, because he wasn’t. That was wrong.
Then he got captured by the commies living under the mall and everything got put into perspective.
While Steve was getting his shit rocked, all he could think about was how pointless his problems sounded in the grand scheme of things. When death was staring him in the face and pulling at his consciousness, falling in love with Eddie Munson didn’t sound all that bad. It actually sounded pretty nice.
Thinking about Eddie was Steve’s tether to the world. When the Russian hit him square in the jaw for the 10th time, Steve remembered how smooth and sweet Eddie had sounded over the phone. When he crumpled in a heap on the floor after a particularly hard jab, Steve thought about the rings on his lover’s hands. How cool they felt against his flushed skin. Every blow landed became a kiss, a caress, sweet words whispered into his ear instead of “Who do you work for?”
But sometimes the Russian’s voice became his father’s. He heard his booming tone telling him he was a failure. A fluke in the family legacy. Mistake. Disappointment. Faggot.
That one hurt the most. While the beating persisted, Steve remembered when he got caught with his hairspray one day.
He was getting ready to go to a random house party and was doing his usual primping and preening beforehand. He had already showered and changed, all that was left was his hair. He went through the usual motions of styling it, meticulously placing the strands to achieve the look he wanted, and was just about to spray it all down when his bathroom door swung open.
“What the fuck are you doing?” For the record, Steve thought his dad was joking. He wasn’t doing anything incriminating; wasn’t jerking off to guys in leather or slathering his face in makeup. It was only hairspray.
“Getting ready for a party, why? Did you need anything?” He didn’t take his eyes off the mirror and continued to spray down his curls.
“You’re going out like that?” His father scoffed. He inched further into the bathroom and when Steve was about to respond, snatched the bottle out of his hands.
“Hey! I was using that, man-” He was cut off by a sharp slap to the face. He attempted to cradle the affected cheek, but his father caught his wrist with an iron grip.
“I did not raise you to end up like this, Stephen!” His father’s voice boomed.
“Like what? What did I do?”
“You’re not a fucking queer, Stephen, so stop acting like one!” He dropped Steve’s wrist in disgust. “And wash that shit out of your hair, be a man for once.” He then stormed out of the bathroom, grumbling about his son being a stupid fag under his breath.
Steve never went to that house party.
He just got right back into the shower and sobbed himself hoarse on the floor. All he ever strived for was his father’s attention, his father’s love , but all he was to him was a pebble in his shoe. That was all he ever would be, it seemed.
He was abruptly brought back to himself when the commie bastard beating his ass landed a particularly harsh blow to his face. He gasped, or more so wheezed, and smiled deliriously.
“Mm, that one stung…” He slurred, chin hanging towards his chest.
“Who do you work for?” Steve internally flipped the officer the bird. He could barely understand himself as he spoke, just talking and talking, trying anything to delay the inevitable. It was all a blur, but he remembered something about butterscotch, and the soldiers laughing. Then a fist came rushing towards his face, and he was being dragged to another location.
When he woke up, Robin was at his back.
They were tied together, sitting in rather uncomfortable chairs, and seemed to be in a doctor's office. Robin was yelling for help, that was what woke him up, but all he could focus on was the pain that was everywhere.
Robin was talking to him, he knew that much, but her voice drifted in and out of Steve’s head and he couldn’t make out half of what she was saying over the ringing. But from the bits and pieces he did hear, he gathered that a doctor was coming, and there was a pair of scissors close by, and that they were going to hop over to them.
To make a long, painful story short; they tried and failed to acquire the scissors, and ended up curled in a heap on the floor.
And then Robin laughed. She was giggling like a maniac and Steve didn’t know what the fuck to do.
“Do you remember Mrs. Click’s sophomore history class?” Yup, Steve was losing his mind.
“What?”
“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity? That’s what us band dweebs called her,” Robin explained.
The conversation was fairly hazy and Steve didn’t remember much, but he knew that Robin thought was an asshole for most of highschool, which stung a lot worse than he thought it would.
As he grew closer with her, Robin had become his best friend. He had no clue if the feeling was reciprocated (he assumed it wasn’t), but that didn’t really matter to him. She was so kind, smart, funny, every synonym for good in the fucking dictionary. However, somewhere along the way Steve started to twist his feelings into something they definitely weren't.
He was in love with Robin. He was in love with Robin.
It didn’t feel right to even think the words, but he needed something to latch onto to distract himself from Eddie. He needed a girl that was just like him to make him forget. A funny, kind, intelligent woman to fall in love with. Because Eddie was completely and utterly unattainable. If only Eddie was a girl, then it wouldn’t feel so wrong to be normal.
***
The next thing Steve remembered was being drugged with something that made his brain feel like it was melting in his skull. The whole room went blurry around the edges and started to spin a little, and Steve couldn’t really focus on the words coming out of his mouth, so he may have given up Dustin’s name. He was sure the kid would understand.
After a while of being tied to a chair and drugged out of his goddamn mind, Dustin finally showed up and got them out of the secret Russian torture chamber. He dragged a very hyper Steve and Robin to the elevator they first came in and herded their group into a showing of Back to the Future.
After not even 20 minutes, the pair of high teens had snuck off to the water fountain and were having a blast before they ran to the bathroom clutching their stomachs.
The sound of vomiting and dry heaving were the only thing echoing through the small stalls Steve and Robin were situated in. Steve sat down against the wall after flushing the toilet and stared up at the ceiling.
The lights in the bathroom were warm. They reminded him of Eddie. His trailer had the same kind of comforting and inviting light that Steve wanted to bury himself in. The only thing that was missing in this picture was Eds. That was all he really wanted. Eddie’s warm hands in his hair, petting the concussion clear out of Steve’s skull. His voice rumbling in his ear, telling him everything would be okay, his lips brushing against his forehead softly. Him, him, him.
The ceiling was a video screen that projected Steve’s every sinful desire. The picture stared him in the face and he stared right back. He wouldn’t be scared anymore. This godforsaken town could try to beat him down all they wanted but he wouldn’t budge. Steve was ripping off the barbed wire and padlocks, tearing down the walls he meticulously put together years ago.
The next time he saw Eddie, because there would be a next time, his door would be unlocked.
“The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?” Steve jerked his head at the sound of Robin's voice. He stared back up at the roof again and realized for the first time since he stopped retching that it was still.
“Holy shit. No. Do you think we puked it all up?” He responded, tone filled with relief. Along with now knowing that the ceiling was not spinning, he was also aware that this bathroom smelled absolutely fucking awful. The acrid scent of vomit was still heavy in the air and any nice-smelling cleaning products used had long been drowned out.
“Ask me something,” Robin’s voice filters back into focus. Steve racks his brain for an adequate question.
“Uhh, when was the last time you…peed your pants?” That seemed alright.
“Today,” Robin responds. She still sounded out of it and a bit delirious, but then again, she had just hurled violently into a mall toilet.
“What?” Steve snorted at her response.
“When the Russian Doctor took out the bone saw, ” The pair giggled over her silly response for a moment, and then it was Robin’s turn.
“Have you ever been in love?”
The question rang through Steve’s soul. Had he ever been in love?
The answer was obviously yes. There was Nancy. Sweet, smart, wonderful Nancy who he fell in love with so fast and hard that it gave him whiplash. She was his first heartbreak, but she had also taught him so much about himself. He still loved her, really, but not in the way he did before.
And then there was Eddie. Eddie, who was never meant to happen. Eddie who was supposed to be an experiment, but turned into the greatest loss of his life.
It happened slowly, so slowly Steve barely realized it, but he had fallen in deep, deep love with the school freak and dealer. Every jab at what kind of music Steve listened to, every lukewarm insult thrown at his hair or his outfit pushed him closer and closer to the edge until he finally let himself fall into the sweet bliss below.
Loving Eddie wasn’t some big revelation. It was simple, easy. Like it was meant to happen, like The Fates themselves had scrawled it into his being long ago.
Steve knew it scared him, it rocked him to his fucking core , but he could handle this kind of fear. This was the good kind. This fear made him want to try, and he could do that. He could try just for Eddie and make something of himself. He’d do anything Eddie wanted.
However, the urge to say Robin was ingrained so deep inside his brain that he felt the need to add her to the list. It felt so wrong to say that he was in love with her, but that was how things were supposed to be, right? If he loved Robin, he could be normal to everyone else. If he loved Robin, really loved her, then maybe his family would show him something in return. But Steve knew that could never happen. He hated himself a little for that.
Jesus, why was he this way? If only God had followed the mold, made Steve the perfect Adam and Robs the perfect Eve, then everything would be okay. Everything could be normal , because that was all Steve wanted to be.
However, to answer Robin’s question, Steve decided to play it safe.
“Nancy wheeler, first semester, senior year,” He mimed a gun shooting his heart. The breakup with Nancy was rough, to put it lightly. After all, being called “bullshit” and told their whole relationship was a waste of time was never going to turn out well. However, Steve pushed on, got through the thick of the heartbreak and put one foot in front of the other.
Robin complained about Nancy being a priss and Steve just chuckled. “Turns out, not really.”
“Are you still in love with Nancy?” Robin sounded curious and disinterested at the same time. How one person could achieve that, Steve didn’t know.
“No.”
“Why not?” Robin was really trying to dig deep here. Fuck.
“I think it's because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me,” Steve responded. This was his big moment. He was finally going to pony up and tell Robin he was in love with her. The thought nearly made him dry heave. He chalked it up to just being nervous, even though the feeling that pulled at his conscience was something else entirely.
To stall, he started to talk about Dustin’s fake-maybe-potentially-real girlfriend. He ran his mouth for as long as he could before he realized he was getting off track. Fuck, this is actually happening.
“But that's–that's not really the point, that doesn’t matter. The point is this girl, the one I like,” He internally shuddered at the words that spewed from his lips. They tasted bitter and nauseating in his mouth. “It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school.”
Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, his brain thought unhelpfully. No no no, this was about Robin. He was describing Robin. Steve tried so damn hard to keep his thoughts on track, but at some point, the only person that was flooding his senses was the man he was in love with. He could almost smell his cheap cologne and lingering cigarette smoke. God, that was all he wanted. If only he could just let himself want.
No, that wasn’t happening.
“She’s smart. Way smarter than me. You know, she can crack top secret Russian codes…” Steve wanted to sink into the linoleum floors and never come up for air. He thought that maybe saying what he obviously didn’t feel would lift his spirits, but he had never felt so low in his life. The only moment that rivaled this feeling was when Eddie stopped calling. Jesus H Christ, could Eddie ever get out of his head?
The more words he spat the quieter Robin became. Fucking hell, this could not be happening. No, no, no, she wasn’t supposed to be the miserable one here. Steve had really fucked this whole thing up. Damn it.
“Robin, did you just OD in there?” There was a long, uncomfortable pause before Steve heard Robin speak.
“No. I…am still alive.” Steve shook his head and slid under the wall dividing him and Robin. He knew the floor was disgusting and Robin did too, but he figured he was already filthy, so it didn’t really matter.
“So, what do you think?” Rather than sounding confident, Steve’s voice came out like a wince.
“About?”
“This girl,” Steve tried so damn hard to sound sincere. That seemed like the only thing he did lately. Try and fail, try and fail.
“She sounds awesome.”
“She is awesome. And what about the guy?” His nausea was hidden behind a smile. He didn’t want to do this. This wasn’t what he wanted, but he forced himself anyway. He was wearing the skin of someone who was supposed to be normal.
“I think he’s on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight.” Shit.
“Really? Because I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual,” Steve was clinging so tight to the character he was playing. He felt like a selfish prick for doing it.
“He’s not. Look…he doesn't even know this girl. And if he did know her, like, really know her, I don’t think he’d even want to be her friend.” Steve rushed to say that wasn’t true, which was the only honest thing he’d said this whole conversation. Steve would always love Robin as his best friend, that would never change. That was the only love that felt right to him when it came to their relationship.
“It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you.” Robin’s voice was soft as a caress. The bile came rushing up Steve’s throat again, and he felt like a terrible person for the way his stomach churned.
“But I’m not like your other friends, and I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.”
“That’s exactly why I like you,” Steve wanted to cry and scream and punch a wall. Then Robin brings up Click’s class, and apparently Steve had missed when she said something about being obsessed with him.
“It wasn’t because I had a crush on you.” Robin whispered. Relief washed over Steve in sickening waves, and he hated himself for it. But then Robin said she. She? The only person he could think of was Mrs. Click, but he was surprised when–
“Tammy Thompson.”
Oh. Oh.
Emotions crowded every crevice of his mind. He wasn’t alone. They weren’t alone. Robin was speaking but he wasn’t paying attention. He could vaguely hear her making jabs at Steve’s high school self, but nothing mattered to him anymore. They were in this together.
“Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” He didn’t care how he sounded anymore, because Robin was like him.
“Steve.” Well, at least he did a good job hiding his relief.
“Holy shit.” He expertly bit back a smile and, after a while of calming down his nerves, dove right into throwing shade at Tammy’s muppet voice. He started to sing in a disrespectful impression of the girl Robin liked, which made her laugh. After about two verses they were both cackling like maniacs and all was right with the world. Steve could finally love Robin in the way he wanted, the way that was better for the both of them.
When Dustin walked in on their moment, Steve still felt giddy with the knowledge that someone was in his corner, whether she knew it or not.
***
Flash forward a couple hours, and everything went to shit. El had saved the world (again), but it didn’t come without a price.
Hopper died in the explosion. Billy died in front of his sister.
Steve had watched Billy die on the floor of Starcourt mall. That fact didn’t hit him for a while. He still needed to herd the kids out of the burning building safely, which was something to focus on. Eleven was injured, but Mike and Will were holding her up. Jonathan went with the trio. Lucas and Dustin were with Nancy, and Robin was with Steve. Max, however, was a fucking mess.
Originally she was being hugged by El, but now she was curled up on the ground next to Billy, sobbing herself sick on the tile. Steve tried to get her on her feet, but she remained unresponsive.
It was a struggle to get her out, but Steve and Robin somehow managed to guide her to the exit. She was sobbing into Steve’s chest the entire time.
Once the group stepped outside, they were greeted by a sea of red and blue. Police, ambulances, paramedics, the whole nine.
Slowly, the kids started to find their families and get driven home. Then Steve was alone.
Was.
Because Eddie was staring at him with his big, glossy eyes, and Steve wanted to break down crying. He felt all the noise around him fade away until all he could hear was the man in front of him. He could feel his eyes start welling with tears, and he let it happen. For once, there was no one around to berate him for not acting like a man. There was no one to put on a brave face for. It was just Steve and Eddie, Eddie and Steve.
“Stevie? Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Eddie sat down next to Steve and wrapped a sturdy arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the touch, self-hatred momentarily forgotten.
“Can–can we go back to yours, please,” Steve choked around the lump in his throat and rested his head against Eddie. The latter started to rub small, soothing circles into Steve’s arm. He wanted to crawl into his ribs and live there forever.
“Yeah, Harrington, we can do that.” Eddie whispered gently, as if Steve would shatter at a louder tone. He stood up and held out a hand, which Steve gratefully took. Every point of contact was sparking up his nervous system.
Eventually, the pair made it to the trailer.
Steve had always loved it there. It was charming and so unlike what he was used to. It wasn’t anything like the houses he was forced to go to for dinner parties. They were all ironed sheets and elaborate, expensive bedspreads. Fancy cutlery and plates that probably cost more than his car. Eddie's place was so charming, so lived in.
Steve lived in a damn nice house, he would never complain about that, but it was always so devoid of any personality. Everything was perfect in his house; not a thread out of place. It had always set Steve on edge, like he wasn’t allowed to sit anywhere or do anything for fear that he would fuck up his parents work and disappoint them with yet another thing.
“Sit down, big boy, I’ll get you some water.” Eddie’s voice was so kind. Steve didn’t know what he did to deserve him. All he could do was thank the universe for dropping this angel of a man into his life.
He let himself be guided to Eddie’s room. The hand on his back was warm and soothing, comforting in a way that he never felt before. Steve wanted to bottle this feeling and huff it for the rest of his time on Earth.
Eddie’s bed was soft and littered with blankets and pillows. It’s so cozy that Steve nearly passes out the second he sits down. His eyes flutter (as much as they can with a black eye) and fight to stay open. Eddie apparently notices and snorts softly at the sight.
“Oh, baby,” Eddie’s voice is filled with affection and it makes Steve’s head rush. He makes an embarrassing sound of content and shrinks into himself. Eddie tilts his chin up sweetly.
“Talk to me, Steve-o. What’s going on in here?” He moves his hands to his temples, taps ever so gently.
“Everything hurts,” Steve responds simply. It isn’t what he’s thinking exactly, but it is something he’s feeling. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve holds his ground for all of two seconds.
“ Fine, ” He sighed. He dropped his head into his hands and dug into the bruises on his scalp. He had no clue how to articulate how he was feeling other than empty. He was a shell of a person that could only house his organs.
“I don’t…I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really thought about what happened yet. It hasn’t sunk in, or something.” Steve was swallowing his tears which was evident in his voice. “It just…I feel wrong. Something’s wrong, but I don’t…” He let out an embarrassing whimper. God, he was fucking pathetic.
But Eddie didn’t seem to think that. He just wrapped Steve up in his arms and carded silky hands through his tangled hair. He whispered sweet nothing into Steve’s ear and pressed gentle kisses to his forehead.
Steve wanted to curl up in this moment, burrow inside it until he could recite it from memory. All his confusion and loathing had cleared, if only for a second, but what a wonderful second it was.
“You need to shower, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice cut through the silence like butter.
“ Mmmm, noo… ” Steve whined. The shower was the last place he wanted to be. His ribs were aching and every breath was a challenge, not to mention the various cuts and scrapes that littered his entire body.
“ Yess. Stevie, you’re currently sitting in many bodily fluids, some of which are not your own, and it would be much more comfortable to be clean. I’ll help you with whatever you need, ok?” Eddie pulled away and stroked Steve’s hair back. His eyes looked amber in this light.
“I can do it myself, it’s fine,” Steve whispered, embarrassed at the thought of Eddie washing him like a stray dog. He was a man, he could tough out a fucking shower.
“Let me help,” Eddie breathed. “I want to.”
Steve wanted to let him. He wanted to so bad, but all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was his father’s voice. Be a man.
“I’m fine, Eds, really.” It came out snippier than he had wanted it to, and he immediately regretted it. Eddie looked hurt, and it broke Steve’s heart.
“Alright, Steve. Go ahead. I’ll be here.” Steve could tell Eddie just wanted to make him happy. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. Fuck, he was so good to him, and Steve always fucked it all up.
Eddie slid his hand back into his lap and patted Steve’s thigh, urging him to go to the bathroom.
“Call me if you need anything.” He smiled; a sad, tight-lipped thing.
Steve hobbled to the bathroom with his head hung low. Why couldn’t he ever just say what he wanted? What block was there between his mind and his mouth? His thoughts ran wildly through his skull and before he realized, he had made it into the bathroom.
Steve was running on autopilot as he stripped himself bare and turned on the tap. A constant stream of why, why, why distracted him and suddenly he was under the scalding water and he might have been yelling because the door was being yanked open.
“I’m here, baby, I’m right here, what do you need?” Eddie’s voice was distant and staticky, like he was stuck in a television with no signal.
Steve felt like he was outside of his body. He was watching himself through his eyes as Eddie dragged him out from the shower head and toweled him dry. Everything he felt was fuzzy, and he didn’t know what the hell was going on. He just watched on as Eddie sat him down on the toilet seat and started to fill the tub.
After a few minutes, Steve returned back to himself and blinked back into reality. He looked around and noticed that the tub was done filling and steam was fogging up the mirror.
“You back to me, Harrington?” Eddie moved to crouch in front of Steve and place a hand on his knee. All Steve could do was nod and make a sad attempt at a smile. Eddie smiled right back.
“C’mon big boy, let’s get you clean,” Steve could hear the smile in his words and it was so pure it burned his tainted soul.
He let himself be led into the tub and fussed over, too spent from the day to fight it. Eddie seemed to notice and took care to be gentle with him. He gently ran water over every crimson red stain on Steve’s skin, massaging them until all that remained was clean skin. Every cut and scrape was kissed and every bruise was pet with a feather-light hand.
Steve slowly began to relax in the water, eyes fluttering shut as he let himself be pampered. This reminded him of the visions he saw in the ceiling of the mall. A strange sense of deja-vu wrapped around Steve’s mind as he recalled what his imagination conjured up. Warm hands, soft lips, homely, yellow light. The only thing that changed was that this was no longer a dream. It was real.
“Want me to get your hair?”
“ Please, ” Steve’s lips slipped around the word.
***
After washing his hair, Eddie lifted Steve from the bathtub and wrapped him in a warm towel. He sat Steve on his bed and quickly rummaged through his drawers to find a pair of sweatpants and an over sized band tee.
“It’s not much, but it’s what I got,” Eddie threw the clothes down next to Steve and began to change himself. Steve politely turned away, but not without flushing down to his chest. Eddie smirked and kept his (many) comments to himself.
“If you want help, you can tell me, baby. I don’t bite,” Eddie encouraged gently.
“I–yeah. I need you–can–” Steve sputtered and searched for the right words. Eddie just shushed him comfortingly and placed his hands on the hem of Steve’s shirt, silently asking for permission. When Steve nodded again, Eddie swiftly changed him, nimbly avoiding every injury with ease.
Once the two were both changed and as comfortable as they could get, Eddie lifted the covers and draped them over Steve, who was already half asleep. Eddie ran a soft hand over his face and prepared to sleep on the hard floor.
“Eds? What’re you doin’?” Steve murmured groggily.
“You need your rest, sweetheart, you can have the bed. I’m fine with the floor, I’ve slept in much worse places that you definitely do not need to hear about.”
“No. With me. Stay.” Steve really couldn’t think straight and the words exiting his mouth barely made sense, but he knew one thing: Eddie Munson would be sharing a bed with him.
“You sure, Steve? I really don’t mind, it’s just for the night–” Eddie was cut off by a floppy hand grabbing his and dragging him up to bed. For someone who was severely injured and also half asleep, Steve Harrington was a strong motherfucker.
“Stay.”
“...Ok, baby. Whatever you want.” Eddie conceded and crawled under the covers. Steve made a content sound and leaned into the body at his side. Eddie smiled and curled an arm around the boy in his bed.
Eddie had fallen asleep in 5 minutes flat, but Steve was still awake. All he was doing was listening to Eddie’s heartbeat and steady breathing. It was like an organic lullaby that Steve wanted to listen to every night for the rest of his life. However, after a few minutes, he could feel his eyes fluttering shut, struggling to hold up the weight of his consciousness.
But as Steve drifted into the warm embrace of sleep, he finally let himself want.