Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s early in the morning. Too fucking early in the morning for anyone to be ringing his doorbell, but someone is and they’re goddamn lucky that Steve is an early riser. He’s already had his morning run and showered, so he’s presentable when he opens the door.

The absolute last person he expects to find there is Eddie Munson. They may be friends now, may be used to dropping by the other’s house to hang out at all hours, but Eddie still rarely shows up anywhere before noon.

"I need you to do me a solid,” the metalhead says. No greeting, no cheerful teasing, just straight to the point.

"Okayyy," Steve says slowly, watching Eddie fidget from foot to foot on his doorstep. "What do you need?"

"A big favour, like, fucking massive. Like, I'll owe you all the weed in my stash and will drive Henderson around for like, the rest of the fucking year." Eddie swallows. "I'll... I'll even throw in, fuck," he grips his guitar pick necklace. "I'll throw in a punch."

"A punch?" Steve demands, equal parts confused and horrified. "Why the fuck would I want to punch anything?"

Eddie gives the weakest smile. "Don't knock it 'till, you've, um, heard it."

"Eddie, you're starting to freak me out, man. What the hell's going on?"

Eddie chews hard on his bottom lip. He then looks around like he's checking for witnesses at ass o'clock in the morning in the middle of his driveway.

"Ever since the, um, Upside Down, Wayne's been really worried about me, right? I get a fucking bruise and he's at my fucking heels making sure I'm okay."

Eddie sounds frustrated but there’s also something undeniably fond in his tone. Steve forces down a twinge of jealousy at having someone so attentive and loving. His parents... they're not as bad as some people think they are, but ever since he's turned eighteen? Ever since he's refused to go to college, stop working at Family Video and give up his friends? They've more-or-less left him to fend for himself, and even before that they weren't exactly... aware of what he was up to, or checking in long enough to notice his worse injuries.

"And um, well," Eddie continues, snapping Steve from his wandering thoughts. He looks at the older boy, who is fidgeting even more than before, "I went to, uh, Indy, right?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. 

He'd gone away for the weekend, wouldn't give specifics. He'd only come back last night, going as far as to ring a few of them and say he was back safe, nothing else.

"Right," Eddie says, biting on his lip. "Well, um, I went to Indy to, you know, have some fun." Steve stares blankly, even when Eddie makes an odd, pointed expression and waggles his eyebrows. Steve’s still lost. "Christ, Harrington. I went there to hook up."

"Oh!" Steve says, hoping his cheeks aren't pinking with embarrassment. "Right. Got it." Then he frowns. "Why can't you do that here?"

It's a simple question, but apparently it does not have a simple answer. Eddie's hands get shoved deep in his pockets. He stares at the ground.

"Not the right people here, Steve."

Steve’s frown deepens then clears with realisation. "Oh. Your reputation?"

But rather than nodding, Eddie laughs, awkward and uncomfortable.

"Well, that doesn't fucking help but, no, um." He hunches a little. "The um... people I hook up with don't hang out around here." He dares a glance at Steve, but he's just as lost as he's been in this whole conversation. Eddie grimaces, shuts his eyes and then whispers so damn quietly Steve barely hears it. "Guys, Steve. It's guys."

Steve's lips part, shock first because he hadn't ever realised that, followed by something that doesn't feel surprising at all, like now that he's looking at it, Eddie being queer just... fits.

“Oh," he says, then, realising Eddie looks about a second from bolting or throwing up he adds. "Right, okay." He then very carefully reaches out and pats Eddie's shoulder. Eddie peeks open his eyes and Steve smiles. "Sucks you have to go all the way to Indy for it, man, but, um, it's cool."

Eddie smiles faintly, relief in his expression but still mixing with the lingering wariness.

"Yeah, it really fucking sucks, especially, um, because there’s not a lot of like, good things happening in the community right now. I'm careful, fucking swear I am but, um," he chews his bottom lip again, "Wayne worries. A lot."

Steve's eyebrows rise at that and he can't help but blurt, "He knows?"

Eddie snorts, finally looking and sounding a bit like himself. "Clocked me when I was fucking thirteen and couldn't keep my eyes off the pretty male waiter at the diner." He smiles, so soft and fond, his gaze far away. "Dropped enough hints to let me know I could come out. Did when I was fifteen and... yeah, he's good. Supportive."

"Eddie, man." He squeezes the metalhead's shoulder. "That is so great, seriously."

Eddie looks shy for a second, but then it changes, going back to nervous again. He starts to shift, moving around so much Steve is forced to let the guy's shoulder go. Eddie's hands come out of his pockets, only so his arms can wrap around his stomach.

"Yeah, um, so, like, he knows why I go to Indy, what I get up to." He chews his bottom lip some more, probably about to crack it. "I was trying to be, you know, subtle about it? Knew he didn't like it before the Upside Down and knew he'd be fucking..." Eddie looks away, staring at the ground. "He saw me after I got back. Saw the... marks."

"Marks?" Steve demands, immediately worried and scanning Eddie, trying to check him over. 

The older boy holds up his hands. "Christ man, just like, hickies and shit."

Steve relaxes a little at that, but the way Eddie is biting his lip still makes him feel like there's a big ass 'but' coming.

"So, what's the problem?"

Eddie heaves a heavy sigh. 

"He got so fucking disappointed, man. So worried. I swore I'd never put him through that shit again. Fuck, he almost looked like he would cry." He scrubs a hand over his face. "So I... I lied."

"You lied?"

"I told him it was from a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend?"

Eddie swallows. "Yeah."

"Right. Okay?"

Eddie finally lifts his head, giving the most awkward grimace that Steve has ever seen and suddenly, fucking suddenly the penny drops.

"Oh shit. You said it was me?"

Eddie holds up his hands. "I didn't say it was you, I fucking swear! I just..." he winces. "You're the only new guy I hang around with and, like, Wayne kind of asked if it was you and I pretty much said I couldn't say shit because the guy wasn't out and Wayne took that. But I..." and Eddie sounds miserable, "I think he's going to think it's you and I literally don't have anyone else it could be. And just...how the fuck can I tell him the truth?"

Steve doesn't know what to say, he kind of just stares at Eddie for a long time. He's used to people thinking he and Robin are dating, but this is the first time a parent has thought he's dating a guy.

"I'm so fucking sorry, man," Eddie says.

It finally snaps Steve enough from his utter confusion. He tries to shake it off and focus on the reason Eddie is here, the thing that has suddenly become very fucking relevant. 

"What exactly is the favour you want from me?"

Eddie screws up his face like he's in physical pain. "Can you just... agree I was with you this weekend? If he asks? You don't have to say anything else, I fucking swear, man. If anyone else asks I'll say you're my fucking alibi—"

"But your uncle is still going to think we're dating."

Eddie slumps even more, arms squeezing even tighter around his chest like it will somehow make him smaller.

"This is why I said I'd offer the punch," he mutters glumly.

Steve scowls. "Dude, fuck off with that. I'm not going to punch you."

“Kinda think you’re owed it,” he mumbles.

At that, Steve just sighs. He also steps forward and very gently pulls the other boy into a one-armed hug. Eddie goes ramrod straight, but Steve stays there, patiently waiting until Eddie tentatively leans into him.

“It’s not your fault your uncle made an assumption, man, and like, you never specifically said it was me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eddie snorts bitterly. “What? Being gay isn’t enough?”

Steve pulls back at that, glaring at his friend. “No, it fucking isn’t. Just like people assuming I’m dating Robin isn’t my fault.”

For a second, Eddie looks like he wants to protest, his face screwing up like he has an argument on the tip of his tongue, but in the end, he clearly lets it go. He sighs and slumps.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “okay. But just… I’m sorry, man. I know my uncle won’t say anything but, just, shit, it’s not something you’d ever want someone thinking about you.”

It’s definitely a new thing, but honestly, there’s a lot worse things he has been; a raging douchebag, a pretentious dick, a sideline bully. He’d take his friend’s uncle thinking he was into dudes over any of that shit again.

It’s why he wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and gently encourages him into the house. Eddie still looks spooked and unsure, but he comes without a fight.

“Come on, man,” Steve says gently. “If you stayed here over the weekend, we should at least make it look and sound a little believable.”

Eddie blinks, looking at him owlishly. “You’re going to do it?”

“Yeah, sure, man.” He does sigh a little. “I mean, I don’t think it’s great you’re lying to your uncle, but I can get why you are. I’ll tell him you were with me, if he asks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie whispers. “Fuck, man, thank you.” Eddie abruptly turns in his hold and squeezes him so damn tight; he even partially lifts him off the ground. When Steve’s let down, Eddie is looking a bit more like his old self. “Seriously man, all the weed and all the chauffeuring of the kids.”

Steve snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

And even though Eddie starts assuring him ‘from the bottom of my heart, sworn on my copy of The Fellowship of the Ring’, that he will uphold his end of the bargain, Steve isn’t going to hold him to it, because, really, all his friend wants is a small favour in the grand scheme of things.

And, he barely even talks to Wayne, how much of an imposition is one little agreement going to be?

Eddie lives up to his word.

The day after his agreement, he shows up with a tin rather than his lunchbox, inside is a ridiculous amount of weed that he tries to hand to him. Steve just rolls his eyes, drags him inside and they smoke up together.

He also makes the guy take his little drug box back. He’ll take the free weed when and if he feels like smoking it with Eddie.

The metalhead also goes hard on chauffeuring the kids, even for prearranged lifts, Steve is suddenly not needed. He gets a series of phone calls with variations of; ‘Eddie’s taking me now.’ He’d feel a little jealous, even pushed to the side, if he didn’t know exactly what the other guy is doing. Not to mention, the kids sound completely puzzled and concerned by the whole thing, as if they think something is wrong with him.

By the third day of near radio silence from the kids, Steve decides to just bite the bullet and talk to Eddie. He appreciates the guy living up to his promises, but despite all the goddamn complaints he’s given, he actually likes spending time with the brats.

Now, he feels like he’s being sidelined.

It’s only when he pulls up at the trailer park and notices Eddie’s van is absent but Wayne’s truck is there that Steve kind of remembers exactly why Eddie’s going out of his way to play driver. It leaves Steve sitting in the car, engine still on and mentally debating what the fuck to do when the trailer door opens. Wayne Munson stands in the doorway, looking directly at him.

Shit.

There is no way he can drive away without looking rude, but there’s no way he can go inside without living up to his promise.

Fuck.

But Eddie had said he didn’t have to officially confirm anything apart from having Eddie at his house. Just because Wayne might make some assumptions it doesn’t mean he has to pretend to be gay or anything.

And if he had of shown up here only a week ago, he would have got out of the car and greeted Eddie’s uncle, asked when Eddie would be back. He’s not going to make it fucking weird just because of what he knows the older man is now thinking.

Turning off the engine, Steve climbs out of the car. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks up to the trailer.

“Uh, hey Mr Munson,” Steve says when he’s close enough. “I was looking for Eddie, but he’s obviously not here and—”

“He should be back any minute.” He steps back and offers a clear path inside. “You can wait for him in here.”

Steve feels a nervous sweat break out, the kind that normally only appears when he’s at a house to pick up a date and has been cornered by the girl’s overprotective father. And, shit, it really is like that, isn’t it?

“Thank you, sir,” he says politely, stepping inside.

Wayne Munson smiles at him. “None of that sir stuff, kid. Wayne’ll do just fine.”

Steve smiles back and hopes it doesn’t look as strained as it feels. Once he’s inside, he hovers awkwardly by the door. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or where to sit.

“Coffee?” Wayne asks.

“Thank you, sir—er, Wayne,” he answers.

Wayne’s smile only deepens as he wanders into the kitchen. All Steve wants to do is fidget on the spot, maybe book it back to his car and come back for Eddie some other time.

“Seen you around a lot lately,” Wayne says. “You’re friends with the kids Eddie does that dungeons game with?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve agrees. “That’s how we met. Sort of.”

Wayne looks over his shoulder, meets Steve’s gaze. “You helped my boy during it all.”

It all.

Meaning the murder chargers, the man hunt, the trauma of the Upside Down that hurt Eddie both physically and mentally.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. He helped us too. Helped this whole fucking town. “I didn’t know him well before then, but I’m really grateful that I do now. That he’s my friend.”

Wayne smiles, soft and Jesus Christ, knowing.

“I’m glad he’s got a boy like you around, Steven.”

Wayne turns away to continue preparing the coffee and Steve feels like he can breathe. He’s been around a lot of parents before and very rarely have the fathers ever liked him. They usually look like they want to shoot him. Wayne looks like he wants to hug him. It makes the lie feel even heavier on his shoulders.

Bringing over the coffee, Wayne passes a mug to him before walking over to an armchair. He takes a seat in it, groaning softly. Steve shuffles on the spot for a moment before tentatively taking a place on the arm of the couch.

“Not meaning anything by it,” Wayne begins, “but you don’t look much like the kind that Eddie normally hangs out with.”

Steve cracks an awkward smile. “Yeah, we, uh, don’t have a lot in common.”

“Sometimes it’s good to be different, keeps things interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Steve clears his throat. “And Eddie can find a way to befriend anyone.”

Wayne chuckles fondly. “That he can. Kid always collects his little damn sheep.”

Steve’s smile becomes a little more genuine. “Yeah, he does. And I guess, I do too.”

“That so?” Wayne asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Like the kids,” Steve says, feeling like he’s nervous-rambling, but unable to help it. “They were so into D&D and Eddie. Dropping all these weird words and I never really got it, but then we hung out, and Eddie explained it.”

“Oh yeah?” Wayne remarks again, still giving nothing away. “So, you gonna be playing it yourself?”

“No,” he says, quick and firm. “Eds keeps offering to teach me, but it’s not my speed. I’d only annoy the shit outta him. Er.” He clears his throat. “Sorry.”

Wayne grins. “Ain’t gotta apologise for swearing, kid. You and I know Eddie does enough for all of us. Boy has a hell of a mouth when he ain’t playing that guitar right.”

Steve snorts and finally relaxes a bit more. “Yeah? He only ever sounds good in front of me.”

Wayne’s eyes twinkle and Steve abruptly remembers what Eddie’s uncle is thinking as the man remarks, “Oh, I bet he does.”

Steve hopes his cheeks aren’t pink. He drops his attention to the coffee, drinking it and hoping that Wayne won’t notice—that he won’t read into it exactly the wrong way.

Because it’s not… Eddie is just good at guitar and he’s not going to want to fuck up in front of anyone, guy or girl. So, like, it doesn’t matter who’s in front of him, he’s going to perform his best either way.

Steve clears his throat, hoping to change the subject somehow. Only, Wayne seems to already be on the same track.

“Ed’s mentioned you played basketball?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“You been watching any games?”

Steve relaxes because this he can talk about easily. “Yeah. You watch any?”

“When I get the chance,” Wayne agrees. “Who’s your team?”

Their conversation flows easy after that question, he can answer about favourite players and teams, games he’s seen and who he thinks will be the best this season. Steve almost forgets to be awkward—forgets why he should be awkward, right until Eddie steps into the trailer looking reminiscent of when he’d shown up at his door.

Fidgety, wary, afraid.

Steve stiffens, gripping tight to his now empty coffee. Eddie freezes in the doorway. They stare at each other, each of them like deers-in-the-headlight—and then Wayne huffs. They look away, Steve to his mug, Eddie to his uncle.

“Way you boys look, you’d think you’d been doing something wrong.” Wayne stands with a groan and Steve dares to peek up at the man. Eddie is grimacing, but Wayne just squeezes his nephew's shoulder on the way past. “Ain’t nothing to worry about son, was just getting to know your friend.”

And if Wayne emphasises that word a little strongly, well, Steve is grateful to see Eddie’s cheeks heat up in a mortified flush. It makes him feel a little less alone over his own heating cheeks.

“Fucking Christ, Wayne,” Eddie groans, his voice high-pitched and horrifically awkward.

But it seems to have done the trick as Eddie finally moves. He snatches the cup out of Steve’s hands and puts it on the coffee table. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to fully protest before Eddie is pushing him into a standing position and down the trailer towards his room.

“We are going to be in my room having a normal, civilised friendly conversation now, Wayne,” Eddie insists.

“Uh huh,” Wayne remarks, not sounding convinced in the slightest. “I’ll be off to work. You come back any time, Steve.”

“I, uh, thank you—”

It’s all Steve manages to get out before he’s elbowed into Eddie’s bedroom and the metalhead is slamming the door shut loudly behind them.

Eddie stands there for a moment, back to Steve, hands against the door, staring at it before he whirls around. He shoves his fingers in his hair, pulls and demands, “What the fuck are you doing here, Steve?”

“I came to see you.” Steve frowns, worried. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Okay? Am I okay? What the fuck, Steve? How am I going to be okay when you show up here talking to Wayne?”

“I—”

But Eddie turns back around, pulling open his door and peeking out like he’s trying to see what his uncle is doing and if the man is spying on them. Steve rolls his eyes, grabs Eddie by the jacket and yanks him back. Eddie squawks but Steve shuts the door again.

“Jesus Christ, dude,” Steve mutters. “You trying to make us look even more suspicious than we probably already do? If you’re going to lie, you’ve gotta hold out and try and act fucking natural.”

“Natural?” Eddie demands. “Natural. Because it’s so fucking normal for King Steve to hang out in a gay dude’s bedroom.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been hanging out in your room for weeks.”

“It’s not the same,” Eddie whines, tugging on his hair again. He shoots him a baleful glare. “And you fucking know it isn’t, Steve.”

Steve sighs. He also turns and walks over to Eddie’s bed, taking a seat on the edge of it.

“I agreed to this, remember, Eds? I agreed to your uncle thinking this about us. It’s fine, it’s whatever. And he’s going to think it whether I’m in your room or at a shift at Family Video. So, what’s the difference?”

Eddie groans loudly, his face screwed up again like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. He ends up walking over to the bed and falling face down onto it. Steve has to steady a hand on the mattress with how it moves. Eddie just groans again, face smushed into a pillow. Steve fights a smile. He pats Eddie gently on the back.

In response, Eddie lifts one hand and flips him off. Steve barks out a laugh.

“Fuck you too, dude.”

Then, a second later, he scrunches up his nose, because if they’re supposedly dating, they’d probably be fucking, and how does that even work with two dudes?

He’s tempted to ask, but he’s distracted by Eddie flopping onto his back. He stares at the ceiling, a dark furrow to his brow. All the frantic energy of before seems to have drained away—a switch flicked somewhere.

“Seriously, Steve,” he says, now quiet and sombre. “You should have called or like, arranged another time to show up.”

“What?” He asks, getting confused. “I can’t hang out with you anymore?”

“You can,” Eddie says quietly. “I just…” he curses and rubs his palms over his face. “I don’t want to make this awkward, Steve.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Then maybe just act normal and don’t do all that weird shit you just did?”

Eddie scowls and points a finger at him. “You aren’t dealing with your uncle believing you are sleeping with the King of Hawkins as if it is even a remotely plausible situation.”

“You are the one who asked me to do it,” Steve counters. “So, suck it up, dude.” He grins a little and pokes him in the leg. “How about you enjoy dating the King of Hawkins? I mean, doesn’t this mean you like, turned me gay or something? Shouldn’t you be, like, proud?”

Eddie splutters, eyes incredibly wide before: “I didn’t… I didn’t turn you gay. Jesus.”

“Your uncle thinks you did.”

“Wayne doesn’t know any better. If he did, he’d know you are an impossible option for my boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Steve complains. “No way. If I was queer, you could totally be my boyfriend.”

Eddie groans and covers his face, muttering something that sounds like at least three curse words. Steve rolls his eyes. He also decides to let Eddie have his little moment—he’s learned by now that if the guy gets on a high horse about something, he’ll take a while to get off it. So, instead, he kicks off his shoes and climbs further up the bed, resting his back against the headboard with one knee drawn up to his chest.

By the time he’s comfortable, Eddie seems to have finished his little grumbled rant. He lowers his hands and looks up at Steve through his hair. Steve grins, but Eddie glares. Steve’s expression doesn’t change apart from raising an eyebrow. In the end, Eddie is the one to crack. He groans and flops over onto his stomach, cushioning his chin on his arms. His fingers pick lightly at the bedding.

“I didn’t think you would, you know?” Eddie eventually mumbles.

Steve frowns. “I wouldn’t what? Agree to pretend it’s me you’re dating?”

Eddie shrugs, the gesture awkward with the way he’s lying. “I guess,” he mutters. “But I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d show up here, you know, without me.” He swallows. “You’d say when you wanna come, and I’d have made sure Wayne wasn’t here and it just… wouldn’t have happened. Any of it.”

Steve tries to puzzle that out. “So, you, what? Had me agree and then… expected me to never do anything about it?”

Eddie shrugs again, still not looking at him. “Kinda figured once you thought about it, you’d wanna take it back but be too nice to do it. So, you’d just,” he fiddles with the bedding. “Not come around unless the coast was clear.”

“Dude, that would be shitty,” Steve says, feeling a twinge of sadness that Eddie would think that. “I really don’t mind your uncle thinking it, okay man? I’d rather him think I’m your nice boyfriend than an asshole.” He gently nudges Eddie’s leg with his foot. “I mean, before the Upside Down, you thought I was a dick. Your uncle probably heard you bitch about me, yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t look at him, but he mumbles, “Maybe.”

“Right!” Steve says. “So, this is a lot better, dude.”

Eddie looks like he’s about to rip a hole in his sheet.

“Yeah, but he didn’t mind you before all this. So, you don’t need to be dating me to have Wayne like you. You’re not an asshole, man. I made sure he knew that, like, the second I got out of hospital.”

Steve holds in a sigh. He feels like they’re going round in circles for no good reason.

“Okay, look, I must be missing something because I don’t understand what the problem is?”

Eddie drops his face, burying it in his arms. Steve patiently waits as the metalhead figures out whatever he wants to say. In the meantime, Steve looks around Eddie’s room: full of posters and mess and Eddie. And he suddenly wonders, how many guys has Eddie had in here? Like actual gay guys. Because Eddie said he had to go to Indy because they weren’t around Hawkins.

Was he… fuck, was he Eddie’s first so-called boyfriend?

That’s so shit.

And it makes him think of Robin. His two best friends, better than so many people in this fucking town but unable to have someone to date and love all because they were looking at the ‘wrong’ gender.

He glances at Eddie and feels a swell of sadness and protectiveness.

You deserve so much better, Eds.

It also firms his resolve. He’d always been willing to go along with it, to pretend he was a secret boyfriend around Wayne, but now, he’s even more determined. He isn’t into anyone right now, and he’s had more girlfriends than he can count—it’s time that Eddie was allowed to have a boyfriend, even if it’s only a phoney straight one like him.

“The problem,” Eddie mumbles, finally answering the question, “is that he thinks you’re gay, Steve.”

“I—”

“You, Steve,” Eddie says, interrupting his attempted protest and finally pulling a thread loose from the sheet, “The King of fucking Hawkins. And yeah, fuck, you’re a beyond reasonably sane and nice friend, like holy shit, I didn’t get punched or, like, kicked out of the Upside Down crew for coming out—”

“You wouldn’t have—”

“And, hoo-fucking-ray for me,” Eddie continues, undaunted. “Steve Harrington will play queer because he’s apparently beyond comfortable in his own sexuality and certain of his reputation that it doesn’t even register.” He squeezes his eyes shut, grinds his teeth. “It doesn’t even register,” he says again, his voice softer, “that rumours are death sentences in small towns like this.”

Steve blinks, something finally clicking—the way Robin always gets tense or quiet, or her eyes widen with fear at the mere idea of being found out.

“Eddie,” he murmurs. “are you worried about me?”

Eddie slants a glance at him, and his face says all the things he hasn’t voiced.

“Eddie.”

Steve shakes his head. He also switches position, dropping down to lay on his stomach, shoulder to shoulder with his friend. It means they’re close, like, really close, their faces inches apart, but Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about this weeks ago, he refuses to do it now.

“I really don’t care what people think about me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And I’ve got a fucking nailbat in my car if people try to start shit.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “You can’t just fucking use a nailbat—”

“Sure, I can,” Steve interrupts, smiling lopsidedly. “And like, your uncle’s kept your secret for years, right? So, he’ll keep our secret and no one will know I’m queer, yeah? So, what are you worried about?”

“But if someone finds out,” Eddie tries to protest.

“If someone finds out,” Steve says, “we’ll deal with it then, okay man? End of the day, we aren’t dating anyway, so.” He shrugs. “What the fuck are they going to call us on? Hanging out? Your uncle’s the only one thinking it, and he ain’t about to do something to get you in trouble. So, we’re sweet.”

Eddie stares at the bedding, a pensive frown on his face—but it’s not just unhappiness on his features, there’s other things that Steve can’t pull apart, and maybe he’s just not qualified for it. Maybe, it’s something that only people like Eddie and Robin can think and feel. People who have spent so long knowing who they like and how dangerous it is to do it. Steve’s never had that—he’s never had to be afraid of wanting someone or trying to hide it. To him, it’s simple: don’t tell anyone, no one will know. Don’t act guilty or afraid, because there’s nothing to be guilty or afraid about. He hates that his two best friends have that so engrained—that Eddie can’t even imagine he’d be willing to take the risk because his friend asked and needed him to.

He makes sure to press their shoulders together even more, he also lowers his voice and swears, “Whatever happens, man, I can handle it. Promise, Eds.”

Eddie’s frown deepens, his face screwing up before he just… crumbles. He slumps and sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Fuck. Fuck, okay.” He tries to smile, but it’s still a little tight. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Harrington. If this blows up, I am relinquishing full responsibility, this is at least sixty-forty now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You’re the one who picked me for your fake boyfriend.” He shoves his friend. “And you better talk me up to your uncle. I’m not some shitty asshole who treats you wrong, got it?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, back to burying his face in the bedding. “I am not talking about it. Nope. You are not out, and he doesn’t need details, Jesus H. Christ.”

Steve snickers at the dramatics but insists, “Well if he does get details, I’m the good kind, you hear?”

Eddie groans and mutters under his breath. It’s another series of curse words and Steve rolls his eyes, but a smile tugs at his lips. He lets the metalhead continue ranting under his breath and props his chin on his hand.

Although, there is something about this favour that they still needed to discuss. The very thing he’d come here for, actually. He pokes Eddie in the shoulder, making the metalhead glance at him, glaring through his hair.

“I did come here for a reason, man.”

“What? Something that wasn’t making my life a misery?”

“Fuck you, dude. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out like the child he still is and Steve rolls his eyes, but continues undaunted.

“Stop stealing all my time with the kids, okay? I’m not going to be able to recognise them if you keep it up.”

Eddie blinks, surprised. “But I said—”

“Yeah, I know, but I like the brats. They’re pains in the asses, but they’re worth it, you know?” Eddie nods, his gaze softening. Steve has to resist clearing his throat at the look. “So, if you wanna do something, help me buy all their fucking snacks or bring me some when I’m bored at Family Video.” He grins and knocks their shoulders. “Actually, definitely bring me snacks. That’d be like, totally a good boyfriend move.”

Eddie’s smile is immediately wiped clear and he hides his face behind his hair, but Steve swears he looks a little pink in the face.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Steve,” he mumbles.

Steve just grins. “If you’re gonna bring me snacks at work and give me free weed, then hell yeah you are, Munson.”

And the funny thing is, it doesn’t sound as weird as Steve would have thought it would—in fact, maybe it will actually be nice, because with the way he’s been striking out lately, even a fake relationship with a friend sounds better than not having one at all.

Chapter Text

Over the next two weeks, things kind of return to normal. Well, normal from before Eddie’s request. He goes back to sharing kid-driving duties with Eddie, Robin teases him for not having ‘good taste’ in movies, the three of them all hang out, sometimes with the kids in tow, but mostly on their own.

But a few new things happen too—like Eddie showing up the first time he was on a shift alone, bearing his favourite snacks and making Steve laugh but readily accept and share them. Eddie also appears at his side one afternoon when he’s taken the kids to the arcade, sharing not only the attention but the costs of the hyper-active, hole-for-stomach brats.

There are also the nights that come with free weed and long rambles about Hellfire and music—but even though they jump between Eddie’s place as much as his, Eddie makes sure to never invite him to the trailer when Wayne is there. He’s subtle about it, but Steve shoots the metalhead a few pointed looks. Eddie doesn’t acknowledge them.

And maybe it could just be a coincidence since he’s rarely run into Wayne in the past—and their last discussion about sports is the longest they’ve ever been in a room together—but Steve gets the feeling it isn’t that. He’s pretty sure Eddie is keeping a wide berth between them.

It’s something that feels all the more obvious when, for the first time that Steve can remember, Wayne Munson walks through the doors of Family Video. And while that would be one thing, he looks directly at Steve with the kind of pointed focus that means he is the reason the older man’s here.

And Steve’s immediate reaction? Worry.

He freezes in the middle of what he’s doing and before he can really think about it, he’s walking forward and blurting, “Is Eddie okay?”

The instant softening of Wayne’s features lessens Steve’s alarm, as does the gentle; “No need to worry son, he’s planning his monster game for that club of his.”

Steve lets out a heavy breath of relief, never fully able to let go of the fear that something might happen to any of them, even if it isn’t specifically Upside Down.

And yet, a second later, his nerves are reigniting over a different worry because Wayne is here in Family Video when, by all accounts, he’s never rented a movie before (or if he has, Eddie’s always been the one to come in and collect it for him.) Steve isn’t stupid, he’s got a feeling that Wayne isn’t here for the latest blockbuster.

“That’s um, good.” He resists the urge to clear his throat. “Can I help you with anything, sir—er, Wayne?”

“Not too busy are you, son?”

Steve resists the urge to look around. Robin’s already left for the afternoon and there hasn’t been a customer for the last ten minutes.

“No, just, you know, killing time until close.”

“Eddie mentioned you work here a lot. You get back late too?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, wary about where this is going. “Pretty often, but I get cheap movies so, it’s not all bad.”

Technically, he and Robin get free movies, but no one needs to know about that and have Keith find out and fire them over it.

Wayne nods. “Can’t be easy. Know what it’s like coming home on an empty stomach.”

“Uh, I guess.”

Wayne, for the first time looks almost as awkward as Steve feels, his voice turns gruffer and his hands go into his pockets. “Hope you don’t mind the offer, son, but I got some meat on sale. Plenty to go around. Think it’d be good to have a friend of Eddie’s over. If you ain’t got any plans for dinner?”

Steve’s lips part with shock, but the surprise is quick to be overtaken by warmth. He feels a little bashful as he fights with that happy feeling—the idea of being thought of, wanted and welcome isn’t common for him. Joyce was always nice to him. Claudia invited him over sometimes. Robin’s mother wanted him to be the boyfriend Robin would never have—and he played along to help her out, but this… Wayne had gone out of his way to come into his work and invite him.

“Might seem a bit odd,” Wayne continues when he doesn’t answer. “But I’d like to get to know you, son. Eddie speaks…” there is a tiny pause, barely there but Steve catches it, “well, he speaks about you, and I’ve been worried about him. I like to know he’s keeping good company—I’d like to get to know that company.” He huffs a little. “And I don’t think that boy of mine is going to be the one to invite you to a family dinner.”

Steve had known, but in that moment it feels so painfully obvious.

Wayne thinks he’s Eddie’s boyfriend, his secret boyfriend who isn’t out and who Wayne wants to get to know—to make sure Eddie is being treated right and won’t be hurt. Because Wayne worries, Eddie had already said that, it was the whole reason he’d lied.

And Wayne had almost lost Eddie, he wouldn’t want to risk losing him again—or do anything to make Eddie think he (and his boyfriend) weren’t supported and welcome. And Steve feels a new wave of his earlier envy and longing. He wishes he had a parent like that, wishes he had any family member like that—wishes that a girlfriend he was serious about had a parent who would come up to him and usher him into their home with open, friendly arms.

But he doesn’t have that. All he has is a promise to a friend, and Wayne Munson looking at him with encouragement.

And Steve, goddamn it, has always wanted to be liked, and he really does want Wayne Munson to like him.

“Yeah, I can, um, I can come over. Thank you for inviting me.”

Wayne smiles and cups his shoulder, squeezing it kindly. “You’re always welcome, Steve. Now, when you finishing?”

“Uh, like another hour? I can come straight from work.”

“You do that, we’ll have it all ready for you.”

“Do you want me to bring—?”

“You bring nothing, son. Just yourself.”

Steve is going to reply, but the door to the store opens. Wayne lets him go, and offers a friendly nod of farewell, already leaving him to his new customers. Steve still feels a little off-kilter by the whole encounter and the unexpected nature of it.

It’s only later, as he’s dealt with the influx of customers and is doing the final wind down before close that he has to wonder: how the hell is Eddie handling his uncle’s impromptu invitation to his not-actual-boyfriend?

The answer? Not very well.

Steve gets to see it first hand when he rocks up to the trailer, knocks on the door and a very frazzled Eddie opens it to look at him.

Steve isn’t the best at reading faces, but even he can tell that Eddie looks far from happy to see him. If anything, he looks like Steve is the embodiment of bad news. It’s actually a little insulting.

“Dude,” he says, leaning close and lowering his voice to a whisper. “You could at least look happy to see me.”

“You,” Eddie hisses just as lowly, “could have said no.”

A twinge of hurt sparks through Steve’s chest—the warmth from Wayne’s invitation fading as if a cold gust of wind had snuffed it out. And some of that must show on his face, because he doesn’t even get a chance to try and leave—or at least, find an excuse to leave—before Eddie is grabbing his Family Video vest in a tight grip.

“No, wait. Shit. I didn’t—” he looks genuinely stricken, and blurts, “You’re always welcome here, Steve. I always like having you around.”

A moment after he finishes, he flushes, looking at his shoes rather than meeting Steve’s gaze. It makes it obvious that the words are genuine and likely more honest than Eddie had meant to be.

It soothes the hurt and makes him relax, his built-up tension dispersing.

“Then, you gonna invite me in, Eds?”

The familiar conflicted expression appears, twisting his features, but it only lasts a few seconds before he sighs and steps back to allow him inside. Once he’s passed the threshold, Steve can see the small table that’s been set up with three plates and some bread. He can smell spaghetti sauce and see Wayne in the kitchen, his back to the room.

“That Steve?” Wayne calls.

“Yes, sir—er, Wayne.” Wayne chuckles and glances over his shoulder. Steve gives an awkward laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll get the hang of that.”

Wayne’s smile is filled with nothing but warmth. Steve swallows hard in the face of such naked, honest fondness. He doesn’t… he genuinely can’t remember the last time an adult looked at him like that.

Christ, no wonder Eddie can’t bear to disappoint or upset him.

“Dinner won’t be too long, boys. Eddie, you wanna get Steve a drink?”

Eddie doesn’t quite stomp to the kitchen, but it’s a near thing. He opens the fridge and pulls out three beers, shooting Wayne a look as if he’s daring him to disagree. Wayne just raises an amused eyebrow but says nothing.

Eddie plops them down on the table only to drop into a seat with arms crossed and an almost ridiculous pout on his lips. Steve isn’t entirely sure what to do—how to navigate the unusual dynamic in the trailer—but then Wayne says, “Have yourself a seat, Steve. Ain’t your fault Ed’s in one of his moods.”

“Moods?” Eddie erupts. “You just—! And you sprung—! And—”

“And Steve ain’t complaining. Although he might, if you keep acting like you ain’t happy he’s here.”

It snaps Eddie’s mouth shut almost comically and he shoots Steve another one of those looks like when he’d grabbed him outside the trailer: like he doesn’t mean what it sounds like he’s saying, rather, he means something different. Something painful and awkward that only Steve’s picking up.

And honestly, Steve can kind of get it? Like, he thinks Eddie’s being unnecessarily weird and dramatic about it, but he supposes Eddie’s just not used to being even remotely out with a guy. He’s also not used to a guy who is willing to accept the assumptions and implications flying around about him.

So, Steve is the one to grab a chair and drag it a little closer to Eddie’s. He sits down next to him and flashes a grin. He also leans in and whispers, “I told you, I can handle it, man. Sixty-forty, remember?”

It forces Eddie to huff an almost strangled laugh. He also rolls his eyes. “Can’t believe you accepted an invitation to dinner from my uncle.”

“Well, it’s not like you were asking,” Steve counters.

It has the unexpected reaction of having Eddie drop his gaze, he stares at his lap and fiddles with one of his rings.

“Guess I didn’t think you’d say yes,” he mumbles.

Steve opens his mouth, ready to protest, but he’s distracted by Wayne arriving with a large pot of spaghetti. Steve tries to stand and offer his help, but is quickly declined. Wayne dishes straight onto everyone’s plate, taking it back to the kitchen before reappearing with some grated cheese for the meal, and butter for the bread.

When they’re all suitably seasoned and ready to eat, the awkwardness that had been lingering at the edges is quick to seep back in. Eddie’s gaze is pointedly on his food. Steve is glancing between uncle and nephew and Wayne is looking at Eddie as if he can will the usually talkative metalhead into speaking by thought alone.

Steve, rather than let it fester, shoots out his leg and kicks Eddie in the shin. Eddie jerks and lifts his head, glaring at him. Steve raises his eyebrows. Eddie scowls mulishly—but only for a beat before his expression softens and he grumbles, “I’m paying you back for that, sweetheart.”

Steve smirks and almost quips ‘I’d like to see you try’ but Wayne clears his throat and Eddie flushes. Steve feels his own cheeks heat at having Wayne hear the familiar nickname but interpret it in a very different way.

“Did you, uh,” Eddie clears his throat, “see Dustin today?”

“No,” Steve says, grasping onto the subject eagerly, “he didn’t come in, why?”

“Says he’s got a lift to Hellfire this week, doesn’t need a ride.”

“Oh, okay cool.” He has a bite of dinner and turns to Wayne, insisting. “This is really good, thank you for inviting me.”

“Welcome any time, son,” Wayne replies. “Glad you like it.”

They lapse into another tense quiet—the kind of quiet that Steve fears at any meet-the-parents dinner, so he hurriedly turns to Eddie and blurts, “Wayne said you were working on your, uh, campaign. Anything good?”

It has the immediate effect of perking Eddie up. He goes from being awkwardly slumped to bright-eyed and grinning. He starts talking, going a mile a minute and Steve sighs with relief. Wayne huffs a small sound and Steve flicks a look at him. Wayne meets his gaze and smirks; expression full of amused fondness and Steve finds his own smile matches.

Because, he meant what he’d said the last time he’d spoken to Wayne; he really is glad he’s gotten to know Eddie, that he can call this overly excitable dork his friend.

Or, as the case might be tonight, his boyfriend.

Dinner becomes a little more bearable after that. Eddie spends almost half of it talking about D&D and Steve spends almost as much of it asking questions or teasing him. He’s as easy to ruffle and rile up as the kids—only he catches on much faster; pouting and kicking him under the table.

Sometimes, Steve nearly forgets Wayne is there, but his soft chuckles, and the nervous, almost shy glances Eddie shoots the man always brings Steve back to the present.

He does try and talk to Wayne, asking about the plant and getting questioned about Family Video in return. Eddie using that time to complain about them being ‘slaves to the corporate machine’ only for Steve to threaten to withhold cheap renting of his latest nerd movie as punishment. Which starts a whole new round of bickering as Wayne cleans up the plates and (once again) refuses any help from Steve.

But with their meal finished, drinks empty and table cleared, Steve quickly feels at a loss. Wayne, however, makes their next move simple.

“Don’t you boys stay out here ‘cause of me.” He gestures absently at Eddie’s room. “Know you’d rather be on your own.”

It’s surprising in how different it is—if he’d been having dinner with a girl’s family, he wouldn’t be allowed in her room unsupervised, or at least, they’d be expected to keep the door open to make sure nothing was happening her parents disapproved of.

Now, he’s being encouraged to be alone with Eddie. He doesn’t know if that’s because the threat of pregnancy is non-existent, if Wayne just doesn’t care what they do, or if he simply trusts them together and wants to make sure they feel safe.

Steve isn’t queer, but Jesus Christ, if this is the kind of support and warmth he’d receive from Wayne Munson? He’s almost envious of Eddie’s future boyfriends.

Eddie, by comparison, looks like he’s trying not to squirm. A permanent blush also seems to be fused to his cheeks. So, Steve has to be the one to stand and say, “Thank you.”

He grabs Eddie’s arm, tugging and forcing the metalhead to his feet. He then hesitates for a second, torn between the instinctual urge to grab a date’s hand—and the fact that this isn’t his date—but Eddie makes the decision, shaking off his touch and shouldering him into moving.

It’s not quite as dramatic or ridiculous as the first time, but it still feels unnecessarily awkward by the time they’re inside with the door closed. Eddie leans his back against it, shutting his eyes and tilting back his head.

“Jesus. H. Christ,” he whispers, as if he’s been through some kind of ordeal.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “I hope you don’t pull this shit in front of an actual boyfriend, dude. He’d probably dump your ass.”

Eddie flips him off without even opening his eyes. Steve barely represses a snort, but he must make enough noise as Eddie opens his eyes, glaring half-heartedly. The metalhead also pushes off the door, crossing the room and dramatically throwing himself face first on the bed. He rocks with the motion, his arms spread-eagled and taking up so much space that Steve opts for the chair in the corner.

Pulling it out, he sits backwards on it, his arms braced on the top. As he does, Steve hears the sound of the TV start up in another part of the trailer, clearly offering them some privacy. It's really fucking nice of Wayne—and, of course, Eddie doesn’t even notice.

“I still can’t fucking believe Wayne did that,” Eddie bemoans.

Steve rolls his eyes again—honestly, the guy is becoming worse than Dustin with being ridiculous.

“Dude, of course he did. He wants to make sure your secret boyfriend isn’t, like, a dick. Especially since you’ve made sure I’m never around him lately.”

“You were never around him anyway,” he grumbles.

Steve waves that off. “Whatever. It’s like, pointed now, man. Makes it feel like you’re the one hiding me. Like I’m your secret, not the other way around.”

“And you’re not meant to be out,” Eddie argues. “So, like, of course I’d want to fucking hide you.”

Steve frowns. “Yeah, but like, if we were dating, you’d have told me your uncle knew, right? So, I’d know he was safe and stuff.”

“That doesn’t mean you’d want to be out, Steve.”

Steve scowls. “Nu uh. I could totally be out to your uncle. He’s like, super awesome and nice and stuff. Why wouldn’t I want to be telling him I’m dating you?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, burying his face in the bedding. He then mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, ‘I should have picked someone more homophobic to be my fake boyfriend, Jesus H. Christ’.

Steve regrets not being closer if only so he couldn’t kick Eddie again, he settles for saying, “Trust you to be complaining I’m not homophobic enough. Maybe you do need a fake boyfriend, if only so you know how to act when you finally get one.”

“Fuck you, I know how to act.”

“Not from where I’m sitting,” Steve counters. “I’m not feeling loved here, man. I’m not feeling wooed.”

“Wooed?” Eddie asks incredulously, pushing up from the bed and facing him to give Steve the full force of his disbelieving stare.

“Yeah, man. Like, the snacks and stuff were cool at work, but I told you to do that, not like you did it on your own.” Eddie splutters. “Just sayin’, you gotta work on the romancing routine.”

“I am not romancing you, Steve,” Eddie gets out, sounding strangled.

“But—”

“No, absolutely not. End of story. You are not my boyfriend and so I am not treating you like one.”

Steve huffs, still a little put out, but not quite sure why, after all, Eddie is right, they aren’t boyfriends. It just… it sits wrong with him. They’re meant to be faking it, aren’t they? So, shouldn’t Eddie at least be putting in some effort? Sure, maybe not when they’re out with the others—since it's only Wayne they're doing it for—but like, why not while they’re here?

So far, he’s been the only one actually making it look like they’re dating. Hell, if it wasn’t for him accepting the dinner, they’d look even less like boyfriends—they’d barely look like friends!

But why should it matter? His inner voice—unerringly Robin-sounding—points out. This is his favour. If Eddie wants to be a lame boyfriend in front of his uncle, why should you care?

And he shouldn’t… it’s just… he’s a good boyfriend, damn it. He knows what looks normal and what looks bad. He agreed to this, and he’s not going to have a hit to his reputation just because Eddie’s got some weird hangups.

“I’m just saying,” Steve insists, “you need to stop acting as if I’m some terrible secret. Wayne’s only going to get more curious and worried the more you hide us.”

Eddie flops sideways like a fish, lying across his bed, most of his legs hanging off the side. He looks ludicrous. He then crosses his arms—pouting the same way he’d done at the table. It shouldn’t, but it somehow makes Steve fight down on a smile.

“Wayne should learn to back off,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve shakes his head. “Your uncle just wants to make sure you’re okay. We just gotta let him know that he doesn’t have to worry, then he’ll cool off.”

“By having family dinner?” Eddie asks sarcastically.

“By acting normal,” Steve stresses. “Let me come over when he’s around and like, act how we always did. He’ll calm down and then, I don’t know,” he shrugs, “when you get sick of it, just dump me.”

Eddie makes a noise, somewhere between shocked and scandalised. He even sits up on the bed. “Me? Dump you?”

“Well yeah, man. How else we gonna end this?”

“Uh, by you dumping me?”

Steve scrunches up his nose. “Why have I gotta do it?”

“Becaaaaaause,” he says, drawing out the word unnecessarily. “You going back to girls? That will make a lot more sense than me deciding to break up with a queer in Hawkins who is willing to date me.”

The words clench something in Steve’s chest. And God, he hates to acknowledge it but Eddie has a point. His own dating life might be hitting the skids lately, but he’s never looked around and thought he’d be lucky to find anyone to be with—or that they’d be his only option if they even existed.

It sits horribly, but what else is he supposed to do? Argue something he can't deny?

“Okay, fine,” he agrees. “I’ll… dump you.”

Eddie actually nods, looking relieved that they’ve come to this agreement.

“Right,” he says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. “Okay, future ending of relationship sorted. Current relationship…” he makes an unhappy face, but continues, “acknowledged as needing more groundwork.”

Steve frowns. “Was that nerd speak for agreeing with me?”

“It is me admitting you may have had a point.” Steve begins to smirk, triumphant and pleased, but Eddie continues, “But, don’t expect it to be dramatic.” He waves his hands as if to depict this. “We’re like, still super-secret, Steve. You are not out to anyone and we are making sure Wayne knows this and does not expect like, actual boyfriend activity.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and unable to help it, points out, “Like sending us to your room, where you have a bed, and turning up the TV so he can’t overhear what we might get up to?”

It takes all of a second for the implication to set in, and then Eddie’s face is flushing fire-truck red. Steve can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Which probably means he deserves the pillow to his face, but really, he still can’t believe that Eddie Munson of all people is this fucking embarrassed about sex.

For a guy who goes to Indy to hook up with strangers, Steve really doesn’t get why he’s so shy about supposedly dating and fooling around with him.

After his dinner at the Munson trailer, Eddie finally seems to get with the program and stop acting so twitchy around Wayne. It means that Steve ends up crossing paths with him three times over the next week. He also gets invited to dinner two more times which are, thankfully, less awkward than the first one.

It gets to a point that he’s actually pretty comfortable with Wayne, like, he would choose to strike up a conversation with him if they met out in the town. Wayne’s just such a nice, caring and supportive guy. He’s interested in what Steve has to say, and actually listens to his opinions.

It makes Steve hopeful that, even after his and Eddie’s eventual break up, he might still be invited to dinners with them.

In fact, Steve gets so comfortable, so happy with what is happening, that he doesn’t notice what they’re edging towards until it’s too late.

He’d shown up early for the pre-arranged dinner, finding Eddie absent as he’d been sent out to get milk—Steve had quickly taken the opportunity to offer his help, using his most charming smile until Wayne had sighed long-sufferingly but directed him to chop up the vegetables.

The kitchen is cramped, nothing like the one at his home, but Steve finds he likes it more—it makes the whole place feel cosy and warm, rather than sterile and cold. Wayne also has the radio on, filling the trailer with the faint sounds of country music.

“Been enjoying getting to know you, Steve,” Wayne remarks into the quiet.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Me too.” Then he backtracks, “Uh, about you. Not the getting to know me… um.”

Wayne just chuckles. “Knew what you meant, Steve.”

“Oh. Cool. Cool.”

They fall into another brief silence before Wayne clears his throat. “Did Eddie tell you about a conversation he and I had a couple weeks ago?”

Steve stills, the knife poised mid-chop as his eyes widen.

Shit, he thinks. Shiiiiit.

“Uh.” He clears his own throat. Steve knows he could play dumb, but this is the whole reason Eddie wanted the favour, so he could support Eddie’s lie. “Y-Yes, sir?”

Wayne nods, still not looking at him. “Good, s’good. Guess I just wanted to tell you what I told Ed a few years ago: you can always talk to me about anything, ya hear? Ain’t nothing you could say that’d make me think less of you.”

“I—” Steve isn’t sure what else to say—his throat too tight, formed by a lump he can’t get rid of. He isn’t even sure if the word had been audible over the radio.  God… how could Wayne just say that?

It’s not the gay thing—it’s… it’s being told he’s good enough, that he’s approved of and nothing could change Wayne’s opinion of that.

(And if a cynical part of him whispers that there’s a lot of reasons for Wayne to not like him, Steve does his best to shove those down.)

“Just sayin…” Wayne continues, as if he hasn’t just shaken something important loose inside Steve. “If you wanted to come around more to see Eddie, if you wanted to stay the night… well, whether I’m here or not, you’re always welcome, Steve.”

Steve lowers the knife to the bench, but that’s all he’s really able to do. He feels like a deer in the headlights, caught in a conversation he’d kind of thought would never come up. And, okay, he’d prepared for it to come up. At least, he thought he had—but he hadn’t prepared for Wayne fucking Munson.

Because, Jesus Christ. Wayne was telling him he could stay over in his boyfriend’s room. Wayne was telling him that he could confess anything, and he’d still have Wayne’s good opinion and support.

Jesus Christ, he thinks again.

Wayne finishes what he’s doing with dinner and washes his hands. He dries them and turns around. Steve still feels frozen and tongue-tied, but Wayne has no such problem.

“Know you were with Eddie… during it all,” he murmurs, a deep frown marring his brow. “And Eds… he hasn’t been sleeping too well lately.” He sighs. “He’d never want me to say anything, probably wants to keep up that strong front he pulls up too much lately. But, I think it’d help, having you here a bit more.”

“I—”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Wayne says, shaking his head. “Just wanted to say it, make sure you knew it. All right?”

Steve can do nothing but nod. Wayne finally smiles. He also takes a step closer, squeezing his shoulder only to give him a shrewd look before gently pulling him into a hug. Steve freezes for a second before he just… melts.

Wayne is solid and warm and smells of cigarettes and cheap aftershave. Steve can’t remember the last time he’d had a hug so enveloping and comforting—as if Wayne was prepared to hold him there and hold him up as long as he needed.

The lump in his throat makes it hard for Steve to swallow and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Never have to be afraid to be yourself in this trailer, Steve,” Wayne says quietly, barely loud enough to be heard. “You’re good to my boy. A man can’t ask for much more than that.”

It has the opposite effect to what Wayne intends, making Steve feel both guilty and like a fraud—and for a second, he feels like coming clean and admitting exactly what he’s doing, that his dating Eddie is all a lie, but the trailer door opens with a bang.

They both jerk, but Eddie moves faster, appearing at the kitchen and giving them a look of such confusion and affront.

“What are mine eyes seeing?” Eddie demands, adopting a voice far more suited to his nerd game. “Is thoust stealing King Steven?”

Wayne snorts. He also gently grabs Steve’s shoulders and before he can really react, he’s all but pushed into Eddie. They end up toe-to-toe, both their eyes widening at the sudden and abrupt closing of the space between them.

“Ain’t stealing your King, Eddie,” Wayne drawls. “Now, where’s that milk?”

Wordlessly, Eddie lifts his arm and holds it out, but he never once looks away from Steve.

Steve’s equally trapped in the moment, until he feels a nudge in his back that is far too purposeful and before he knows it, he’s moved the last bit of distance and after only a brief hesitation, he curls his arms around the metalhead.

Eddie stiffens, but Steve ignores it, staring at the wall of the trailer as he mumbles, “Hey, Eddie.”

He’s so close Steve hears Eddie’s harsh swallow, but after a long moment Eddie’s arms jerkily come around his waist, looping low at his back.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie whispers back, his hair tickling Steve’s neck.

Steve’s cheeks heat in response, and he’s not entirely sure why—but even though it feels different than hugging any other guy, Steve doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shifts a little bit closer, and when Eddie sighs softly, Steve makes up his mind. One way or another, he’s going to follow Wayne’s suggestion. He’s going to stay the night.

Chapter Text

Of course, Steve doesn’t tell Eddie this immediately—he kind of isn’t sure how to, especially not in front of Wayne, because he feels like Eddie is going to make a deal out of this. He already has for everything else.

Steve just figures it’s going to solve a lot of problems: Wayne’s worries and Eddie’s nightmares. Because by doing this, they’ll look like proper boyfriends to Wayne, and with company Eddie shouldn’t dream about the Upside Down—and if he does, Steve will be there to calm him down.

Simple.

So, he waits until dinner is finished to even broach it. They’re heading to Eddie’s room in the now familiar post-dinner routine. Eddie has been getting more insistent lately about educating him on metal music trying—in vain—to make him like the stuff. Steve’s only half-paying attention to his descriptions about the band, most of his focus is on shutting the door and hearing the TV start up.

When he feels comfortable that they won’t be overheard, Steve interrupts: “Oh, I’m staying over tonight.”

Eddie freezes halfway to his stereo, hand stilling mid-air as he turns to him with wide-eyes. “You’re what now?”

“Staying over.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“In this trailer?”

“Uh huh.”

And then, at a rather ridiculously high-pitch, “In my room?”

“No, man,” Steve says sarcastically. “I thought I’d go bunk with Wayne.” He rolls his eyes. “Of course in your room.”

Eddie gapes for a minute before he points at him, expression turning accusing, “Wayne! That’s what this is! He put you up to it!”

He looks ready to storm out there and have it out with his uncle. Steve holds up his hands, hoping to stop him before he flies out the room. “Jesus, man. Calm down. It’s just for a night.”

“A night!” Eddie says, voice rising. “A night he says, as if that isn’t—mmph!”

Steve covers Eddie’s mouth with his palm, getting him to shut up. “For fuck’s sake, man,” Steve hisses. “You wanna out the fact we’re not actually dating? Jesus.”

Eddie bats Steve’s hand away, glaring. “You wanna invite yourself into my bed without fucking asking, Steve?”

“You invited me here first!” Steve counters. “You like, picked me as your boyfriend.” He pokes Eddie in the chest. “So, this is the shit that happens. Deal with it!”

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes, like he isn’t sure what to say—and well, Steve has to admit, it wasn’t his best defence. Eddie asked him to play along, yeah, but he didn’t tell him to spend the night and share a mattress.

It’s enough to twinge his guilt and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, glancing away. “I mean… like, if you really aren’t comfortable, I can say I gotta go home or—”

Eddie releases a strangled laugh and it’s enough to make Steve glance back. Eddie is grimacing. It’s the kind of look he’s worn numerous times during this whole thing: awkward and uncomfortable.

“Eddie?"

“You really think I’m the one who is most likely to be uncomfortable with this, Steve?”

“I mean, I did spring it on you,” Steve admits, his guilt growing, “and I didn’t ask and it’s your bed and—”

Eddie barks another laugh, making Steve stop. Eddie points at his chest, his lips twisted in a rueful grin. “Gay, Steve. Gaaaaaay.”

Steve frowns. “Yeah? I know…?” His answer just makes Eddie groan and rub his face. “Eddie?”

“Steve, just think for a second: what guy in Hawkins do you think would be fucking comfortable with this?” He wrinkles his nose. “Well apart, apparently, from you.”

Steve still feels like he’s missing something.

“I don’t get it,” he admits. “Why should being gay make a difference?” Eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second-head. “What?” Steve asks. “What’d I miss?”

Eddie just shakes his head. “Nope, no way. I am not touching that—not even… nope. Noooo.”

He waves his hands and turns away, almost tripping on his chair, but managing to stay upright. He then looks around the room, glancing a few times at the bed, a twist to his lips.

“Jesus,” he says, “can’t believe I’m even considering this. Bed-sharing with the King of Hawkins, what a fucking trip that one is. Fuck.” He laughs a little hysterically. “And my uncle got it to happen. God.”

“Eds, you’re rambling, man.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles without any heat. “I am attempting to wrap my mind around this inconceivable occurrence.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I think you’re giving this a lot more weight than it deserves, man. I’m just sharing a bed with you.”

There’s an odd change to the room after he says it. Eddie doesn’t really do anything, but the words seem to hit differently. Steve frowns, wondering why that is, but before he can try and puzzle it out further, Eddie is back in motion—his usual whirlwind activity distracting Steve.

“Well, sharing is caring, Stevie, and it seems, right now, sharing will also come with clothing because, as if I am sleeping next to you in jeans. That shit will chafe. And ooh, music, I can have Ozzy sing you to sleep and then—”

“No. No metal music or I will not sleep.”

“Never say never, sweetheart. Metal has some soft ballads you know, and—”

“I will go into my car and find a fucking Wham cassette—”

“And commit sacrilege to this here trailer?” Eddie asks with mock-affront, plastering his hands on his chest as if displaying his shocked horror. “This here Haven of Metal?”

“God knows you’re already going to put me in one of your metal shirts and that’s bad enough—”

Eddie’s eyes light up before he can finish and he’s immediately diving for his clothes with unholy amounts of glee. Steve sighs loudly but is ignored. So, he settles down on the bed, kicking off his shoes as he accepts his fate of being dressed up like a cheap metalhead knock off.

He’s grateful at least that Eddie seems to be back to normal about the whole thing.

Wearing Eddie’s clothes is weird—they smell like him, they’re a bit too tight in some places, and too big in others.

When he walks into the main part of the trailer to get a glass of water, Wayne does a double-take and then flashes the biggest smile at him. Steve freezes, feeling like the biggest fraud underneath that warm and proud stare.

He scuttles past a little awkwardly and wishes the man goodnight before fleeing back into Eddie’s room. He tactfully doesn’t mention it to Eddie. They have their own problems to deal with when it comes to actually going to sleep. Eddie lets him pick a side, but when the metalhead lies down, he twitches and jerks so much that Steve has to throw an arm over the guy’s chest to make him go still.

Of course, that prompts Eddie to start talking, running his mouth about music and guitars and the latest problem that’s happening with the van. All Steve can figure is the guy is nervous to go to sleep—understandable if he’s having nightmares.

So, Steve lets him talk, humming and grunting where applicable. He keeps his arm around Eddie’s chest and lets his eyes fall closed. Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he’s certain he’s the first to do it.

When he wakes briefly in the night—overly warm and confused about where he is—he’s brought back by a snuffling sound against his chest. He glances down, unable to see much in the dim light, but able to realise he’s in Eddie’s room and said metalhead is wrapped around; both arms and legs encircling him like a favourite stuffed toy.

He snorts, rearranges the blankets so it’s not as stifling and doesn’t bother pushing Eddie away. Frankly, it’s nice to have anyone holding him so possessively—it’s not like he’s had a lot of takers lately.

When Steve wakes up again, it’s morning and although it looks like he’s rolled away from the metalhead in the night, Eddie has followed him, managing to loosely fist his hand in Steve’s shirt and drool on his shoulder.

Looking down at the other boy, bathed in the occasional beam of early morning light, Steve can’t help a wave of fondness—for all that Eddie’s loud, hyperactive, and a little bit insane, Steve really likes the guy. He wants him to have this; a peaceful night’s sleep curled up safe and happy in a boyfriend’s arms.

If only I was a real one.

Steve sighs, a sad twinge in his chest. He lifts his hand, gently brushing some hair out of Eddie’s face. The metalhead’s nose twitches, but he stays asleep.

When Steve hears the faint sound of movement further in the trailer, it’s quickly his nose twitching at the siren call of coffee. It takes a bit of work to get out from Eddie’s grip, but he manages it without waking the other boy.

He sneaks out of the room on tip-toe, not thinking to fix his hair or his shirt until Eddie’s bedroom door is shut and he comes face-to-face with a very amused Wayne. Steve flushes and tries to hurriedly tame his hair.

Wayne shakes his head and huffs a silent laugh. “Don’t need to look a certain way for me, kid. Hair’s hair, and Eddie’s is always a mess.”

Steve smiles, but he still keeps trying to fix it as he wanders into the kitchen. His smile becomes softer when he sees two mugs already set out, one for Eddie and another for him. He takes the blue one and fills his mug. Wayne’s already seated on the couch, and Steve perches on the armchair, it feels like a mirror of their first conversation, only this time Steve is far more relaxed than awkward.

“Sleep well, Steve?” Wayne asks softly.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, equally quiet. “You?”

“No complaints.”

They each take a sip of their coffee and Steve lets his eyelids stay half-lidded. It’s just… God, it feels so nice. He’d always tried not to notice how quiet and empty the Harrington Manor feels in the mornings. It‘s why he always goes for a run—he needs to get out, to hear and feel things that aren’t the stifling weight of his parents’ disapproval and his past regrets and mistakes.

Here? He doesn’t have any of that.

He’d woken up almost too warm with the scent of Eddie everywhere—a sharp contrast to his own washing powder. The mellow sunlight from the trailer is different and seems softer compared to the glaring brightness that hits the uncluttered walls of home. Sometimes, he feels like a stranger or a ghost, never fully comfortable or necessary. Here? He always feels relaxed, welcomed and enveloped by the Munson’s warmth.

“Steve?”

He blinks back from his thoughts to pay attention to the other man. “Yeah, Wayne?”

“Really glad you stayed over tonight, son.”

“Oh, uh, yeah of course.” He chews his bottom lip. “Honestly, I was happy to, I—” he hesitates, “I really like it here.”

“Good, that’s good,” Wayne says, nodding, but his gaze is on his mug.

Steve frowns, worried he's overstepped somehow. “Wayne? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, son.” He looks up, flashing a reassuring smile. The tension Steve hadn’t realised he was holding quickly dissipates. “I just… I ain’t as good with words as our Eddie is.” Steve’s eyes widen, and he’s not sure Wayne has realised that little slip: our Eddie. “Took a right few years before I got that boy to realise… well.”

Wayne pauses, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Steve does his best not to shift awkwardly in the quiet that’s fallen. He glances at Eddie’s door, half wanting the other boy to interrupt and stop whatever Wayne is building towards—the rest of him certain that Eddie will only make it worse.

“I know you ain’t got much reason to trust me—” Steve makes a noise, because that isn’t true, but Wayne forestalls him with a raised hand. “Easy, son. Not asking you to say anything, know what this kind of town is like to people who don’t always fit in.” He sighs. “And I know from Ed that you made sure to fit in for a long time.”

Steve swallows hard, his body going cold at the confirmation. He’d known of course that Eddie wouldn’t have been shy about what he thought of King Steve during their shared high school years. He’d known Wayne would have heard and thought the worst of him—but hearing it now feels so much worse.

“I’m sorry,” Steve forces out hoarsely. “I wasn’t… I was such an asshole and I’m trying, and I’m not—”

Wayne stands and before Steve can offer any more excuses or apologises, Wayne is crouching down in front of him, taking the coffee from his trembling hands and putting it aside. He then covers Steve’s hands with his own.

“We all make mistakes, son. What matters is how we behave after. Eddie’s been saying you’re a good one for a long time. I’d never doubted my boy, but I’ve come to agree with him.” He squeezes Steve’s hands and smiles. “You're kind, you've got a good head on your shoulders, and you've worked out what the important things in life are: damn shame most men twice your age can't say the same."

“Wayne—” Steve tries to choke out, but words fail him.

Wayne squeezes his hand again. "It's all right, Steve."

But it doesn’t feel all right, it feels like too much and like he’s both too big and yet too small for his own skin.

Wayne’s smile remains heart-achingly kind. “Now, you listen to me, son. You and my Ed? You deserve a better world than many of the bastards in this town will ever allow. It’s why I want you to know you always got me in your corner."

"Wayne—" he tries.

Wayne clucks his tongue and Steve falls silent.

"You’re a good boy, Steve," he says softly, "And when you’re ready? You can come to me about anything, all right, son?”

Steve’s eyes sting, and his throat feels too tight.

Wayne might have said he was bad at words but that was a fucking lie because all Steve feels is so thoroughly accepted—as if that same love that Wayne has for his nephew is being carefully draped around him.

“That’s what I want to say,” Wayne says. He lets go of one hand to gently squeeze his shoulder. “You’re safe with me, no matter what you might not be ready to tell me.”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes, he swallows around a harsh lump. He stares down at Wayne Munson offering his support, love and protection without any strings attached.

And Steve… he can't... he doesn't... he...

“I’m dating Eddie.”

It’s out before he even realises that he’s going to say it. The moment he does, his eyes widen and he slaps a hand over his mouth. Wayne’s face both brightens with pleasure and softens with pride. Steve hears a strangled noise and he thinks it’s from him, but when Wayne turns around that’s when Steve realises it’s so much worse than that.

He drags his gaze up and Eddie is standing in his bedroom doorway, eyes bigger than saucers and looking like he’s frozen mid-step.

It makes Steve really truly understand what he’s just done.

Oh… fuck.

Wayne is the one who helps him get to his feet. He feels a little wobbly, but Wayne pulls him into a firm, supportive hug.

“Proud of you, Steve,” Wayne murmurs against his ear. “Brave thing you just did, son.”

But Steve doesn’t feel brave, he feels guilty and like he’s a big fucking idiot—but Wayne is already taking his shoulders and walking him the little distance needed to stand in front of Eddie.

It’s like last night, only Steve is too busy reeling to be nudged into hugging Eddie. So, Wayne takes matters into his own hands, all but handing him off to Eddie who grabs him somewhat stiltedly by the arms.

“You take care of your boy, Eds,” Wayne says gently. “He’s earned a good breakfast, I’d say.” He then looks them up and down and snorts. He ruffles both their heads and says, “And stop acting like you ain’t doin’ a whole lot more than hugging behind that door.”

Eddie makes a strangled, protesting sound and Steve is sure both of them flush cherry-red, but it has the effect of breaking the moment. Eddie fists a hand in his shirt and yanks him violently inside the room, Steve ends up half bent over to avoid being choked by the material.

Eddie slams the door shut and rounds on him, an almost wild, panicked look to his eyes.

“What the fuck, Steve?” Eddie demands, mercifully keeping his voice at whispering level.

“I don’t know!” Steve whispers back. “I just… I felt bad!”

“You felt bad?” Eddie demands, baffled.

“He wanted me to trust him!” Steve tries to explain, feeling a little bit panicked himself. “And he was… God, he was so nice and I just…” Steve swallows hard. “I couldn’t disappoint him, Eds.”

Something shifts in Eddie’s gaze, he still looks rattled, but there’s something frustrated and understanding there too—and that’s when it clicks. It’s the exact same thing that had made Eddie throw out the lie in the first place: neither of them could bare to hurt Wayne Munson.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, curling his fingers in his hair and tugging. “This just got so much worse, Steve.”

“But he’s not going to say—”

“Wayne just called you ‘my boy’, Steve,” Eddie grits out, looking pained. “He’s not going to tell anyone, but he’s going to… going to expect shit now, man.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, quickly understanding.

Before, they’d had the veil of secrecy and a hidden relationship now… now Wayne knows and he’d expect what anyone would of a couple: affection.

Something twists inside Steve’s gut—something nervous and a little fluttery which briefly confuses him because, what? But then Eddie is speaking and distracting him.

“Fuck, man," he says, sounding distressed. "I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

So, Steve pushes his confusion and that weird feeling aside to be dealt with later: for now, the immediate problem has to be sorted.

He takes one quick look at Eddie before making his decision. He takes Eddie’s hand, pulling it from his hair and then pointedly links their fingers. Eddie stiffens, his gaze locked on where their palms are pressed together.

Steve clears his throat a little awkwardly, but refuses to back down.

“You know what we gotta do now, man,” Steve says. “Be boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends,” Eddie repeats hoarsely.

“Yeah,” Steve says, but Eddie still doesn’t look away from their hands. It makes him feel a little self-conscious. He hopes his palm isn’t getting sweaty. “Like, I know this one’s my fault, but if you’re up for it, I am too.”

Eddie swallows and finally turns away, staring at the wall but not letting go of his hand.

“Eddie?”

He doesn’t respond for a long time. Steve’s nerves increase and he thinks about letting Eddie go—maybe finding a way to backtrack everything with Wayne? Fix the apparently big mistake he’s just made.

Until: “How far you wanna push this, man?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks.

Eddie still doesn’t turn to face him, but he answers, “Like I can hold your hand, and hug you and stuff. But I—” Eddie swallows noticeably. “I don’t wanna push a boundary, okay, Steve?”

Steve frowns, giving the question serious thought. He’s surprised (and relieved) by the easy acceptance—especially considering how hung-up he’s seen Eddie get on him being ‘out’—but if it’s just around the trailer he doesn’t see the big deal in faking it further.

“I mean, it was fine when you cuddled me last night.” Eddie’s head finally snaps around to him, eyes wide in shock. Steve startles into a laugh. “What? You didn’t know? Yeah man, you fucking like, latched onto me all night.” Eddie makes a little squeaky noise and Steve’s grin spreads wider. “It was kinda nice, dude. I’ve missed doing that at night.” He shrugs. “And since I’m not dating while we do this—”

“You’re not dating?” Eddie blurts, seeming surprised.

“Uh, yeah?” Steve replies, puzzled. “That would be like cheating. Not gonna do that while I’m pretend-dating you.”

Eddie looks a little owl-eyed before he ducks his head, hair falling in front of his face and hiding his expression.

“Thanks, Steve,” he mumbles.

Steve doesn’t really get why it needs a thank you, so he just shrugs. “Yeah, all good, man.” He then focuses back on the subject. “So, like, hand-holding, cuddling, all good. Are you thinking about—”

Eddie shifts forward and Steve stops mid word as the metalhead presses a very gentle kiss to his cheek. His brain just kind of white-noises for a second. He watches Eddie pull back, his skin tingling and his heart racing as he stares at his friend.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks quietly, his cheeks a very faint pink.

But that’s fair because Steve is pretty sure his are flushed too.

“Uh.” He clears his throat. “Yeah. Uh, that’s fine.” He swallows. “When we’re in the trailer, right?”

Eddie nods, a serious expression taking over his face. “I promise, Steve.” He lifts their hands so they’re held in the air between them. “All of this? It only ever happens here.”

“Right.” He ignores that same squirming feeling in his gut. “Then we’re good, Eds.”

Eddie hesitates, lifting his free hand and seeming to debate something, only to gently brush Steve’s cheek and then tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve blinks at him, feeling very aware of his own skin, but Eddie just smiles a little shyly.

“You tell me if any of that changes, okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks. “Your boundaries, your pace, Stevie.”

“Yeah, no, that’s… we’re good, um.” Steve internally flails for a second, but eventually settles on, “Babe?”

Eddie’s face does something, but before Steve can puzzle it out, Eddie’s grabbed some hair, pulling it in front of his face. He also turns away—yet, he doesn’t let Steve’s hand go.

“Right, right,” he blusters. “No need to get out any of that Harrington charm. I’m not a blushing maiden needing to be won.”

“But, I’m not—” Steve tries to protest.

“Uh, uh, uh!” Eddie protests, dropping his hair if only to waggle a finger in Steve’s face. “No arguing with the boy—” he stumbles over the word, “—friend.” He clears his throat. “Now, let’s get some coffee and get this train wreck out the gate and on its maiden voyage.

Steve sighs, giving up trying to decipher or argue with Eddie. Instead, he lets himself get tugged by his hand out of the other boy’s bedroom and into the trailer.

And really, it could almost be like normal—except, when Wayne glances over his shoulder from the kitchen and sees their joined hands, he breaks out in such a happy smile. And when Eddie gets his coffee and refills Steve’s, he does it one-handed because the other is occupied by Steve’s.

When they sit down on the couch to wait for breakfast, they’re pressed thigh-to-thigh with Eddie’s arm tentatively looped around his waist. Steve feels that strange squirming feeling in his chest kick up again, scratchy and warm, but he tries to push it away. He listens as Eddie complains about his uncle’s radio station, and Wayne threatens to give Steve all of Eddie’s share of the bacon. It's so cosy and nice.

And, if Steve glances briefly at Eddie’s lips and remembers them pressed against his cheek… well, that’s nobody’s business but his, because Wayne and Eddie are so busy arguing they don’t notice it anyway.

If Steve had of thought about it—which, considering he blurted it without any planning, proves he wasn’t thinking at all—then he would have expected Eddie to get twitchy and avoid the situation again.

Instead, surprisingly, Eddie is the opposite.

Sure, when they’re away from the trailer, Eddie acts a little different. He doesn’t hug or get in his personal space as much. There is also a large drop in ‘sweethearts’.

But at the trailer? It’s completely different.

Eddie either takes his hand the moment the door is closed, or wraps him in a hug. The cheek kisses are still pretty rare and Eddie always looks flustered after he does them—glancing between Wayne and him as if he’s still not sure he should be doing it.

It always twists something in Steve until, one afternoon, he beats Eddie to the punch. He comes inside after a long day at Family Video and greets Eddie with a kiss on his cheek.

Eddie squeaks and flaps his hands and rambles something that Steve is sure doesn’t actually make sense. He ends up shooting Wayne a peculiar look, but Eddie’s uncle just shakes his head and fondly rolls his eyes before asking Steve about his day so, Steve lets it go.

But basically, in the two weeks after he comes out, nothing really changes. He still comes over for dinner with the Munsons at least once a week—staying the night almost as often as he doesn’t—and, when Eddie’s van breaks down, he starts dropping him to and from Hellfire as well.

It’s just… it’s actually really nice. Like, Steve knows it’s fake, knows he isn’t actually dating someone, but Christ, sometimes it really feels like he is in a relationship. Because apart from it being a guy, and apart from the lack of sex or kissing or outside the trailer dates it feels like more of a relationship than anything he's ever had, even with Nancy.

And he supposes that’s why he’s more irritated than he should be when he shows up at the Munson trailer after work.

It’s a night when Wayne’s working, so it’s just the two of them. It’s become their movie night; their date night. He brings something he’s swiped from work and Eddie sets up the popcorn and drinks. Normally, he loves it, but when he steps inside tonight, not even Eddie’s bright smile and cheerful, ‘evening, sweetheart!’ helps to shift his mood and Eddie is quick to notice.

“Uh oh,” he says. “Was it Keith? I’m betting it was Keith.”

“Not Keith,” Steve grumbles.

He shrugs off his vest and drops down heavily on the couch. Eddie appears at his side, popcorn bowl on the table and beer held out. He flashes a grateful smile and takes it. Eddie sits down beside him. Instinctively, Steve shifts closer and Eddie compensates with an arm around his shoulders.

And that’s, yeah. It’s a thing that they’ve developed kind of by accident; even when Wayne isn’t around, they still act like they’re dating while in the trailer. Eddie had been awkward the first time he’d gone to take Steve’s hand when Wayne wasn’t around, but Steve had shrugged and grasped the metalhead’s palm.

‘Makes sense, right?’ he’d said. ‘Be more natural if we do it anyway, and if he comes home early, we still look like we’re boyfriends.’

‘Right,’ Eddie had said, expression hard to read. ‘If you’re sure, Stevie.’

But, he had been, so, that had been that.

“Well, come on sweetheart,” Eddie says. “Lay your woes on me.”

Steve huffs and tilts back his head. It forces him to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, but he looks up at the grinning metalhead. He breathes in cigarettes, Eddie’s now familiar cologne and popcorn. It loosens some of the remaining tension.

“There was this girl at work.”

He feels Eddie go tense against him. He frowns, but Eddie grins as if nothing is wrong. “Oh? Is she the one? Do I need to start preparing my break up song?”

“What?” Steve scrunches up his face. “Oh, as if dude. No. She was, ugh, she was so fucking pushy. Like, Christ. I was giving literally no signals and she wouldn’t leave me alone.” Steve then frowns and lightly whacks Eddie’s chest. “And hey, I told you, I’m not looking at girls while I’m dating you.”

Eddie’s lips pinch unhappily. “Not actively looking is different than having a girl you’re interested in walk into Family Video. I’m not going to stop you from dating someone that you actually like, Steve.”

Something about that sentence doesn’t sit well with him, but Steve can’t pinpoint it and he doesn’t have the time to puzzle it out.

“Well,” he insists, “it sure as hell wasn’t going to be this girl. Seriously man, I eventually told her I was dating someone just to—”

“Why would you do that?” Eddie asks sharply, back to being tense again.

“Well, I wanted to get her off my back,” Steve answers, frowning. “And, I mean, it’s true enough anyway.” He grins and nudges Eddie. “I’m dating you.” Eddie doesn’t respond immediately to the tease, so Steve pokes him. “Eds?”

Eddie quickly flashes a grin, but it doesn't look quite as genuine. “Ah, well, then I must perform the full good boyfriend treatment, musn’t I?”

He scrambles off the couch, almost making Steve spill his beer as he quickly rights himself, watching Eddie dart into his room. He’s confused until Eddie returns, holding up two packets of peanut M&M’s.

“Hey!” Steve says, brightening immediately.

Eddie bows dramatically and holds them out. “Your favourite, my liege.”

“Dude, they are!” Steve takes them, feeling momentarily shy as his fingers brush Eddie’s—when had any girl he’d been with ever done something like that for him? “Thanks, Eds.”

Eddie’s smile softens. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

The moment stretches as they look at one another, but soon enough, Eddie glances away and grabs the VHS, opening it and talking about the movie as he preps the player. Steve sits back and puts his drink between his thighs. He opens one of the packets and puts the first M&M in his mouth—it tastes even sweeter than normal, and looking at Eddie, Steve feels a surge of something complicated and suspiciously like envy for Eddie’s future boyfriends.

Because, here he is, getting some of that treatment first hand and he’s well… he’s… fuck, he’s kind of charmed, isn’t he?

He’s kind of… kind of into it.

And what is he meant to do with that?

Chapter Text

Steve feels a little off-kilter after the M&M’s. He tries to ignore it and just enjoy the movie, but it lingers in the back of his mind, because movie nights have also become their guaranteed evening of sharing a bed. They’ll cuddle up together, stumble out in the morning and greet Wayne before he turns in to sleep after the night shift.

Sometimes, Eddie will hop in his car and come over to the mansion so Steve can shower and change and then they can hang out for the day. Other times, Steve drops Eddie off at band practice, or they meet up with Robin or the kids.

But whatever tomorrow brings, tonight is always the two of them and he doesn’t want to make that awkward with…whatever is going on with him.

So, he does his best to focus on teasing Eddie when he monologues over the good and bad points in the movie. He shrugs and waves off his own opinions, because they’re never as intense as Eddie’s, but the metalhead always wants to hear every one of them.

They brush their teeth side by side, Steve complaining for the hundredth time about Eddie putting his damn hair up so he doesn’t get toothpaste in it—only to grab one of the spare ties he keeps on the basin and tying Eddie’s hair up himself.

(And if that makes his chest have another one of those funny moments, and makes Eddie’s pink cheeks and freckles so much easier to see—well, the less said about it the better.)

He then changes into another set of Eddie’s clothes, because the one and only time he bought something over, Eddie had descended upon them like a hellhound, yanking them on before Steve had even had time to blink.

He still thinks it’s ridiculous that Eddie fights him for his faded blue sleep shirt every night (the fact that Steve doesn’t actually want to win is another one of those things Steve is beginning to think he should really start paying attention to.)

When they finally make it to the bed and Eddie has switched out the light, Steve makes himself comfortable—sighing softly at the familiarity that is now even more enjoyable and relaxing than his own bed.

And like every night he’s here, it would be so easy to fall asleep—to drift of knowing Eddie is right there and going nowhere—but Eddie gently touches his shoulder.

“Steve?” Eddie asks.

“Mm?” he hums, turning his head.

In response, Eddie shifts, it’s hard to really make him out in the dark, but he seems to be propping his head up on one arm, elbow digging into the bedding. When nothing more is forthcoming, he prompts, “Yeah, Eds?”

“That girl from your shift—”

“Ugh, dude.” Steve screws up his face. “I’d just managed to forget about her.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t sound very apologetic. “Look, I just…” he trails off and Steve thinks he’s going to have to prompt him again when the metalhead adds, “I know you didn’t like her, but I get that one day there is gonna be a girl you do like and…”

Eddie goes quiet again, but this time Steve’s heart-rate has picked up, something almost panicked catching in his throat. It almost feels like tunnel-vision, like he’s about to be told ‘it’s not you it’s me’ and somehow that is terrifying.

“And,” Eddie continues, unaware of what his words are doing, “I just wanted you to know that when you… when that happens, you can break up with me, okay?”

“Eddie—” he tries, but the other boy’s name gets stuck in his suddenly dry throat.

“We’re gonna have to do it some time,” Eddie hurries to continue. “And like, Wayne’ll get over it.” He laughs roughly. “God, he’s going to have to—swear he’s walking around thinking you’re the future son-in-law he’s excited to have and—” he cuts off, the abrupt quiet feeling loud until, “—and, I just… I wanted you to know that, okay, man? Whenever she comes along… whenever you’ve had a gut full of this whole thing… just… just break up with me, yeah? No hard feelings about it, promise.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say—but no actually, he does know and that’s slightly more frightening, because he wants to say no. Because the idea of ending this—of breaking up with Eddie, it feels wrong, like he wants to scramble across the bed and hold on.

Because he… Jesus Christ, he doesn’t want to do it.

He wants to keep coming here for movie—for date nights and having dinner with the Munsons. He wants to put up Eddie’s hair as the other boy gives a foamy toothpaste smile. He wants to argue over sleep clothing but still steal each other’s shirts. He wants Eddie to curl around him at night and talk to him about D&D and all the music that he’ll never like.

He wants… he wants Eddie to kiss his cheek and maybe kiss him somewhere else. He wants to ask how gay guys have sex and he wants to try it with the boy beside him. He wants to be the boyfriend Eddie dates, rather than the friend who fakes it with him.

And lying in bed looking at Eddie’s shadowed shape, Steve has absolutely no idea how to deal with it. He also doesn’t know if Eddie would even want that with him.

But then… maybe he would? Maybe, Eddie has already said it?

That will make a lot more sense than me deciding to break up with a queer in Hawkins who is willing to date me.

Maybe, he could be that queer guy? Maybe, he could be Eddie’s boyfriend for real?

But Steve can still hear the ring of Nancy’s voice in his ears—it’s bullshit, you’re bullshit—and it seals his lips tight around the question.

“Right,” Steve forces out instead, feeling sick. “Sure, yeah, man. I… yeah.”

“Cool, good,” Eddie says. “Yeah, that’s… that’s good, man.”

Steve can picture his smile and it hurts to imagine Eddie’s fine with this, that he’s not going to care about losing Steve as his fake-boyfriend.

And yet, a second after thinking it, Eddie is shifting on the bed, wiggling a little bit closer. Steve’s heart pounds, but he doesn’t move as Eddie curls an arm around his waist and lays his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Okay, Steve?” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, lifting his arm and tentatively curling it around Eddie.

“S’okay if you don’t want to,” Eddie says, his face mostly buried in Steve’s chest.

“No… no, it’s… we’re good, man.”

Eddie nods against him but doesn’t say anything. Steve just stares at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes when he feels so aware of Eddie against him.

They’ve done this before, but it’s usually in the middle of the night, or when he wakes up in the morning. It’s not usually at the start—not consciously like this… but, God, he likes it.

He likes Eddie.

Jesus.

He likes Eddie.

He wants to slide his hand up the metalhead’s back, into his hair to curl in the messy strands—tug him into a kiss, maybe? Lazily make out until they want to do more—whatever more is between two guys.

Steve’s stomach twists at the idea, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good feeling or a bad one or if he’s just nervous, but Steve knows he absolutely cannot be having a queer crisis with his newly-acknowledged crush curled around him.

He needs time.

He needs distance.

God, he needs Robin.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will himself to sleep—but when Eddie’s hand moves slightly, fingers very gently curling in his shirt, Steve knows he’s in trouble. Because his heart is skipping at that simple touch and his throat is dry.

He can already tell it’s going to be a long fucking night.

Steve doesn’t mean to flee Eddie’s company the next morning, but he’s desperate for some time alone—some time to figure this out.

Eddie had wanted him to come with him to Gareth’s, and he’s grateful to be able to pike out, citing the other musician’s clear and still lingering mistrust. He drops Eddie off—still pouting and complaining—before driving to Robin’s.

She is beyond annoyed at the early morning wake up and his pleading that she come with him for a drive, but he likes to think he’s forgiven when they park at the quarry and he says, cutting right to the chase. “I think I want to date Eddie Munson.”

Robin had been fiddling with her hair but she stops and turns slowly to look at him, blinking in bafflement. “Huh?”

“I want to date Eddie.”

“Eddie? Eddie Munson? Male metalhead and giant nerd?”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

Robin stares some more, her eyes going wider and her face slackening as the seconds pass.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

She makes a sound that is almost a squeal, flapping her hands in the air as she turns in her seat, reaching out and snagging his hands.

“Steve!” She shrieks. “Oh my God. When did this happen? When did this start?”

Steve bites his bottom lip because… well…

“Uh, well… I, uh…”

Her eyes narrow and she manages to lean even closer, eyeing him suspiciously. “Steve. That is a face. You are doing a face. What aren’t you telling me?”

“You, um, know when Eddie went to Indy a few weeks ago?” She nods. “Well, he, uh, came to see me when he came back.” He hesitates. “Do you, uh… know why he goes to Indy?”

Something crosses her face then, a look that makes it obvious. She knows. And he can see it in her expression that she sees the same thing in his expression.

“He told you?” she asks, soft and secretive.

Steve nods. “He, uh… yeah.”

“Wow,” Robin breathes. “I didn’t know if he ever would.”

“Well, he, uh, needed a guy to do him a favour,” Steve says, stressing the word. “He needed them to look a certain way around Wayne. You know, when they were with him.” He raises his eyebrows pointedly and Robin still looks a little confused so he adds, “You know how your Mom sees me and—”

“Oh, oh!!” Robin exclaims only to grimace. She lets go of one of his hands to slap her forehead. “Oh my God, he’s an idiot.”

“No, hey, like, he’s really not,” Steve protests. “Wayne is like, insanely hard to disappoint, Robin. Like I ended up—”

He stops, wincing at what he almost let slip. Robin zeroes in on it immediately. “Oh no, you are not stopping there. What did you do, dingus?”

Steve sighs, knowing it was a foolish hope to think he could hide it from her. “I, uh, well. I did the favour, yeah? But it was like… it wasn’t a fact, you know?”

“Right,” Robin says dryly.

“But, Wayne was so fucking nice, Robin, and he kept telling me I could talk to him, I could tell him things when I was ready and—”

“Oh my God, Dingus. Did you tell him you were gay?”

Steve winces. “No! I just… I told him that Eddie and I were… um… dating.” Robin stares, her mouth agape as she looks at him shock. So, Steve figures, he’s already said the worst of it, why not the rest? “So, like, we had to start… looking like we were dating with um, hand-holding and cheek-kissing and sharing a bed and I… fuck, I… Christ, Robin. I really like it. I really want it to be real.”

Robin continues to look incredulous, but after a few blinks, she manages to get under control, her expression turning pensive as she looks at him.

“Steve… look, that’s… are you sure it’s Eddie you want? Or do you just want to be with someone?”

Steve is already shaking his head. “No. No way. I’ve had, like, girls at Family Video flirting, and I just… I don’t want any of them, you know?”

“That’s true,” Robin agrees. “You have been, like, ignoring them, even the really cute ones.”

“Right! Because I’ve just been… I’ve been dating Eddie, you know? And it wasn’t real, but it still was real and I’ve kept…” He lets go of one of her hands to press his palm to his chest. “I keep getting this feeling, Robin. And I didn’t think about it, because it wasn’t supposed to be there but it is. It’s him. It’s wanting him and liking him. And it’s… it’s…”

“A crush?” Robin asks, a very faint smile beginning to twist her lips.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, slumping with the relief of admitting it.

Robin squeezes his hand, but a beat later she says gently, “But he is still a guy, Steve.”

“I know.”

“Like, he’s not exactly got boobs.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I know.”

“But do you know what that means, Steve?”

“That he has a dick?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Robin’s cheeks are a little pink, but she tilts up her chin determinedly. “It means you’re going to have to touch that dick, Steve. Well, like, if you want to actually date him.”

Steve really hopes he isn’t fucking blushing. Of the two of them he has far more experience with sex… and yet, in this, he really is a fucking virgin, but, well…

“I do want to date him,” Steve says firmly. “And I… I do want to touch his dick. Well, if he’ll let me.”

Robin scoffs, like the statement is ridiculous. “Oh, please. Eddie would let you touch his anything.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t know that.” Robin scoffs again, but Steve insists, “No, like, I mean, yeah, whatever, he might let any guy get him off but I just… I don’t want that. I want to date him, Robin.”

“Ah, yeah, dingus. Duh.”

“So, I don’t just want to touch his dick for no reason!” Robin makes a face. “Robin.”

She sighs. “Fine. I will continue talking about dicks. For you.” She takes his other hand and cradles them both gently. “Steve, my best friend, my dingus, Eddie would love to touch your dick, and have you touch his, and date you in some horrifically nerdy, sappy romantic way that will make me want to throw up.”

“Robin,” Steve groans, his heart flipping with hope even as he quickly supresses it.

“Steve,” she replies back.

“You don’t know any of that,” he forces out. “He could just,” he waves his hand awkwardly, “do it because I’m the only guy around. It might not be because of me.”

“It would so be because it’s you.”

“It might not!”

She sighs, long-sufferingly, as if he’s being an idiot.

“Fine. Then tell him you want it to be serious. Ask him out.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”

She makes a gesture with his hand. “Do your whole you thing. Flirt and say you want it for real, then kiss him and win your man!”

Steve splutters, feeling horrified at the idea. “I can’t just… just kiss him out of nowhere!”

“Why not?” Robin demands. “He’s gay, you are newly queer. Which,” she squeezes his hand, “I am still very, very excited about and we are going to talk a lot about it but, priorities. He will be ecstatic if you kiss him.”

“He might think I’m faking it!”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Then tell him you like him first, then kiss him!”

“He might not like me back, Robin!”

He yanks his hands out of hers, crossing his arms and sinking low in the car seat.

“Dingus—”

“I can’t risk that, Robin,” he interrupts. “I can’t.”

Steve scrubs his hands over his face, but all he sees is Eddie’s goofy smile and his ridiculous pout and the way he looks all soft and relaxed in the morning before he’s woken up. Having all of that turn into a wince? Turn into no-strings sex like the guys in Indy? Or worse, turn into bullshit?

“I c-can’t,” his voice cracks on the word and Robin makes a soft sound.

“Oh, Steve,” she whispers, reaching out and touching his arm. “You’ve really got it bad for him, haven’t you?”

And what other answer can he give to that?

“Yeah,” he admits, shutting his eyes. “I really fucking do.”

And isn’t that just his luck?

Because in only a few hours, he’s going to have to go pick Eddie up and pretend to be his boyfriend.

And how the fuck is he meant to do that without making a mistake or putting a move on the metalhead that the other boy might not even want?

Steve is jittery.

He really is trying not to be, but he cannot fucking help it. His talk with Robin might have given him a new perspective on being queer, might have given him a hug and support and he adores his best friend—but he’s only more convinced of how deep in the shit he is.

She hadn’t told him to ask Eddie out again, but even thinking about it leaves Steve’s heart in his throat.

He’s glad Eddie is so distracted by band practice to pay much attention to his shortened concentration. The metalhead rambles the whole drive back about the band and how he absolutely shredded his guitar solo and Steve ‘should have been there to see how fucking awesome I was, sweetheart’ and Steve is kind of glad he wasn’t there because he’s not entirely sure where his limits are anymore.

Would he grab Eddie in a hug? Would he tell him he looks awesome all with hearts for fucking eyes? He’s a little afraid to find out.

When they get back to the trailer and step inside, Wayne is already awake and he takes one look at Eddie’s sweat-stained singlet and guitar slung over his back before pointing him in the direction of the shower. Eddie pokes out his tongue and gripes, “You just don’t know how to deal with my raw talent, old man.”

“I don’t know how to put up with your raw funk,” Wayne fires back.

Eddie makes to go at him in a hug, but Wayne holds out his hand, catching Eddie on the forehead and shoving him away. Eddie laughs.

“Get’f with you,” he grumbles but with a fond smile.

“All right, all right,” Eddie complains. He flashes Steve a quick grin. “Be back soon, Stevie.” He does finger-guns. “Then I’ll tell you more about Gareth’s insane drumming today. So fucking sick, man.”

He spins on his heel and wanders toward his room to put away his guitar and Steve can’t help the way his gaze follows him. He doesn’t realise he’s been staring too long until Wayne clears his throat. Steve jumps and swivels back around to look at the older man.

“You all right, Steve?” Wayne asks, eyeing him shrewdly. “Seem a bit off.”

“Oh, no, I’m—I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Wayne hums.

“I mean it,” Steve says, trying to sound firmer. “Totally, uh good.”

“Hmm,” Wayne hums again, but otherwise doesn’t comment. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Steve says eagerly.

Wayne nods and heads into the kitchen. Steve is left to stand a little awkwardly—it’s the first time he’s felt awkward in weeks. He can’t help glancing again at Eddie’s room. He can hear him moving things and stomping around. He hears the door to the bathroom close soon after and knows Eddie will be there at least a little while.

Wayne comes back with the mugs about the same time. Steve takes his and carries it over to the couch. Only, unlike he expects, Wayne takes a seat beside him. Steve glances at him, but Wayne is silent, just watching him over the rim of his coffee mug. Steve has to resist the urge to fidget.

“Is… is something wrong, sir?” Steve asks, the formality coming out automatically.

Wayne doesn’t call him on it. “You know you can always talk to me, right, son?”

“I, uh, yeah. Of course.”

“Well, ya can.” Wayne nods his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Even if it’s about Ed. Know the boy can drive me up the wall on a good day.” He smiles faintly, conspiratorially. “‘spect he can do the same to you.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head, realising what the man is thinking. “No. He didn’t do anything. We’re um… it’s fine.”

Wayne raises his eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, just waiting patiently. Steve has to look away. He fiddles with his mug, staring at it as he struggles with what to do.

But, well, Wayne knows Eddie, right? He knows him better than Robin, better than anyone.

And so… maybe… he’d know if… well?

“Do you think, um, Eddie…” Steve rubs the back of his neck, feeling an absolute fool, but fuck, he’s committed now. “We’re not really alike, and I mean.” He glances at the other boy’s bedroom. “Gareth and him, they have music and D&D and I don’t know anything about—”

Wayne snorts. “You can stop it right there, son.”

Steve shrinks a little, gripping tighter to his mug. Wayne huffs a small laugh and touches the top of his head, ruffling it gently.

“Don’t know what got in your head, but it ain’t a thought worth lingering on, ya hear?”

Steve doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even care about the state of his hair. He just… looks at the mug, wishing the words would do anything to sooth the squirming pit in his stomach.

Wayne just huffs another laugh. “I mean it, son. Ain’t gotta have more than a few braincells to see you’re that boy’s whole damn world.”

Steve jerks his head up at that, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, prepared to protest, but Wayne gives him a stern look so he snaps it shut.

“Now, I know you probably ain’t used to this kind of thing. Know you had your girls around town, but just ‘cause it ain’t there for everyone to see, don’t mean it ain’t there at all.”

Steve swallows hard, shakes his head. “It’s not… Wayne, I, we—”

“I know what I see,” Wayne interrupts firmly. “From you, and from him. May not have known you long, Steve, but I know my boy.” He smiles faintly. “And Lord knows I heard enough about ‘that pretty boy Steve Harrington’ from Eds when he was in school.”

Steve’s breath catches and he is so fucking glad he’s sitting down because he’s not entirely sure he’d be standing otherwise. Wayne must read his utter shock as he chuckles.

“Oh? He didn’t mention that to ya, did he?” Wayne shakes his head fondly. “That boy hated how much he was looking at you. Swear it got that much worse when you two started being friends. Damn near swooning every time you smiled his way.”

Steve isn’t sure he’s actually breathing, he feels so far removed from the world.

“How I knew it was you,” Wayne continues. “Even when he was telling me he couldn’t say who it was. You’re the only one my Ed’s been looking at, only one he’d wanna call his boy.” A squeeze to his shoulder jerks Steve back into his body. He blinks at Wayne, seeing the pure kindness there. “So, don’t you be worrying that Ed is looking elsewhere, you hear? Don’t be looking for reasons to get hurt over things Ed won’t care about. Told ya at the start, differences keep things interesting, and the one thing my boy don’t want to be is bored.”

Steve almost wants to laugh, a slightly panicked, partly relieved and horrifically hopeful mix of emotions that are so potent that he’s surprised he swallows the sound down. He ends up forcing a smile and nodding harshly.

He gets to his feet, feeling like he’s just had a knock to the head and the world is still spinning.

“I… I’m going to talk to Eddie.”

Steve doesn’t look at Wayne. He’s not sure what will be on the man’s face, and he really can’t deal with that right now. Not when he’s still trying to navigate everything Wayne has just said—the secret he’s just confessed without even knowing it was one to begin with.

He gets into Eddie’s room without interruption. He stumbles to the desk, shoving the coffee onto a piece of available space and collapsing in the chair.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The laugh bubbles up and escapes, he claps his hand over his mouth to silence it, but he still feels giddy.

Eddie has a crush on me. He’s always had a fucking crush on me.

And that sobers some of Steve’s emotions, sending a twinge of pain through his chest. Because Eddie had liked him from the start. He’d faked this with him, he’d cuddled him, and kissed him, and fucking told him to dump him, and never said a fucking word.

Steve stands up, abruptly unable to keep still. He begins to pace, his mind racing as he thinks about all the times Eddie blushed or reacted oddly to being called his boyfriend or holding his hand or sharing a bed.

Jesus fucking Christ, I’m a God damn moron.

Steve scrubs his hands over his face, but even as he does, he’s fighting a smile. God, they’re both morons. They’ve been dating this whole fucking time and neither of them had even realised!

He wishes he’d cottoned on sooner, that Eddie had said something—that anything could have happened to make this come about weeks ago.

But it’s happening now, and you can make it real, his inner Robin pipes up. You can be Eddie’s real boyfriend. You can get your man!

Steve’s heart flutters and he’s almost ready to go into the damn bathroom and corner Eddie there when he finally hears footsteps and Eddie’s steps into the doorway. He pauses, blinking in surprise.

“Oh, hey, sweetheart,” he says.

Eddie’s got on pants, but no shirt or shoes and he’s still towel-drying his hair. He looks natural, and at ease, and so fucking gorgeous.

“Wayne couldn’t keep you entertained?” Eddie questions, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “Do I need to call foul on his terrible hosting qualities? Complain that there has been no satisfaction for the royalty who is visiting our humble shores?”

He’s such a fucking nerd. So overdramatic and ridiculous and Steve likes him, God, he likes him so much. He can’t help but grin at the metalhead.

But, in response, Eddie frowns, tilting his head to the side. “You okay, man? You look a little different.”

Steve keeps grinning even as he crosses the room. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of the other boy. He sees Eddie’s eyes widen and the metalhead swallows noticeably. His next smile is also a little nervous.

“Now, now, Stevie.” He raises one hand and waggles a finger. “I only just got clean, don’t be suggesting anything that’ll make me get messy again.”

It’s clearly pitched and done for Wayne’s benefit, because the man calls, “Don’t make me turn the radio up, boy.”

Eddie laughs and spins around, throwing his towel on the floor and grabbing the door. “Deal with it, old man!”

Wayne grumbles something Steve can’t make out, but Eddie shuts the door, only to turn back to look at him and shrug faintly.

“Gotta play up that boyfriend schtick.” He starts to walk around him. “So, anyway I was going to tell you about Gareth—” Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, keeping him from getting too far away. Eddie stills and looks over his shoulder, frowning faintly. “Steve?”

Steve looks at the boy in front of him. No boobs, as Robin pointed out. Instead, he has tattoos and a flat, scarred chest. His curly hair is damp and unconditioned, his clothes have rips and holes, and weird band names and symbols.

He’s a guy who has a dick and liking him will make Steve queer. Being his boyfriend will make Steve need to keep a massive secret and there will be problems if it ever comes out. And even with all of that, Steve doesn’t care. His heart is speeding up, his chest is aching with affection and he likes this boy, he wants this boy, and if Wayne and Robin and his gut are all correct, then Eddie wants him too.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. “You’re starting to weird me out, man. Are you—?”

Steve steps closer, putting them chest-to-chest, and he hears Eddie’s breath catch.

“Eds?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Can I be real with you?”

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie clears his throat. “I mean, you can always be honest with me. Never have to worry about anything.” He smiles a little awkwardly. “Kinda told you all my biggest secrets anyway. So, like, fair’s fair.”

But, you didn’t. You left one out.

Steve has to resist the urge to lean in even closer. Instead, he puts his free hand on Eddie’s chest. Eddie shivers, and Steve’s own hand feels electrified. The other boy’s skin is still a little damp from the shower, but he’s warm, and his heart is pounding almost as hard as Steve’s.

“Do you think you’d be up for a boyfriend?” Steve asks. “You know, a real one?”

“Uh… huh?” Eddie asks, looking confused but also nervous, maybe even vulnerable. He gives a strangled little laugh, ducking his chin down so Steve can’t meet his gaze. “What you talking about, man? Found another queer guy in Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. He moves his hand to Eddie’s chin, forcing him to glance up. He catches those uncertain brown eyes and confesses, “You’re looking at him.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath—a broken shard of hope seeming to crack through his expression.

“Steve,” he whispers.

His hand comes up, oh so tentatively wrapping around Steve’s wrist—and Steve can’t take it. He moves the last few inches closer and presses his mouth to Eddie’s. The other boy gasps, but a second later, Eddie’s hand is on his neck and he’s being kissed back. It’s almost too strong—too desperate, but Steve doesn’t care. He gives as good as he gets, catching his teeth on Eddie’s bottom lip, making the metalhead release a soft groan.

Eddie is the one who yanks back, panting hard.

“Jesus,” he gasps out. “Jesus, Steve. You’re… you can’t be… fucking… fucking hell.”

Steve laughs a little, running his thumb along Eddie’s jaw.

“Jeez, man,” he teases. “That’s not what you say when your boyfriend kisses you.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie wheezes. “You just…” He swallows hard and grabs Steve’s hand pulling it from his face. Eddie keeps hold of his palm but doesn’t move away. He shakes his head, like he needs to clear it. When he meets Steve’s gaze again, his expression is guarded. “What are you doing, Steve?”

It sobers him, and Steve lets his smile fade, giving the situation the gravity it deserves.

“I like you, Eddie. I like you and I want to date you for real.”

Eddie just stares at him, shock cracking through his carefully serious facade.

“No way,” he whispers. “No way did you just… did you actually just say that to me.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Why? Because you’ve wanted me to do it since High School?”

Eddie immediately flushes pink and stutters, “I-I, no, I didn’t. Where the fuck did you hear that?” Steve doesn’t even have to say anything before Eddie’s closing his eyes with a mortified groan. “Wayne. It was fucking Wayne. Oh Godddddd.”

Steve laughs, but he also takes pity on Eddie and presses in close, letting their foreheads rest together.

“Shh, don’t stress about it, babe. I think it’s cute as hell, and like, I was freakin’ out you wouldn’t want to date me. Hearing that you already liked me? Fuck man, made me decide I had to say something to you.”

Eddie still looks incredibly shell-shocked and pink-cheeked, but he tentatively lets Steve’s hand go and brings his fingers to brush Steve’s cheek. When he isn’t rebuffed, he cups it in his hand. Steve can feel him faintly trembling.

“You really mean this?” Eddie whispers. “You’re saying you like me?”

“I—”

“A guy,” he interrupts, stressing the word and speaking too fast. “Like, I’ve got guy parts and I’m fucking… I’m the Freak, Steve. And this means you’re queer, and that—”

Steve is the one to cut Eddie off, but he does it by capturing his mouth in another kiss. Eddie makes a muffled noise, not even a full protest before he’s kissing back, Eddie’s hand sliding back to his neck, fingers curling in the strands of his hair.

This kiss lasts longer, staying slow, soft and incredibly tender.

When they pull apart, Steve takes a long time to open his eyes, too busy feeling warm and cradled by the moment. When he finally looks at Eddie, he finds the metalhead already watching him. His expression is openly stunned and adoring.

“Steve,” he whispers. “Stevie, sweetheart.” He finally smiles, both hands cupping Steve’s cheeks. “You really mean it, baby?”

Steve flushes a little at that new endearment, but he nods. “I mean it, Eds.”

“You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m your boyfriend? Really your boyfriend?”

Steve grins. “Yeah, you’re really my boyfriend.”

Eddie lets him go, but only so he can stamp his feet and do a literal happy-dance. Steve fights not to laugh at the ridiculously adorable sight. The second the metalhead finishes, Eddie is immediately wrapping him in a tight hug. A kiss is then smacked loudly to his cheek. Steve finally laughs and hugs Eddie back.

“You dork,” Steve says affectionally.

“Your dork,” Eddie says, sounding utterly thrilled with the concept. “I’m your dork, Steve.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees affectionally. “You’re mine.”

Eddie laughs, sounding so utterly full of joy. It makes Steve’s heart sing and he bundles the other boy even tighter in his arms, finally feeling like things are right. The feeling in his chest is no longer scratchy and like it wants to get out—it’s a soft warm hum, the kind he always gets in the Munson trailer with the boy he likes, and the supportive Wayne Munson who shoved him, for the third time, in the right direction.

And, as if summoned, there is a knock on the bedroom door. Neither of them move but Eddie calls cheerfully, “Yeah, old man?”

Wayne pushes the door open slowly, poking his head inside cautiously. Eddie’s grip tightens on him, as if afraid Steve might be planning to move. He just tugs him even closer, placing their chests flush.

Wayne smiles approvingly at him, a knowing gleam in his eye.

“You boys in a good mood?”

“Best mood, Wayne,” Eddie says. “There is no better mood. The mood cannot be improved.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “Not even by pizza?”

“Pizza but pales in comparison,” Eddie says firmly, his fingers tangling possessively in the back of Steve’s shirt.

Wayne rolls his eyes and meets Steve’s gaze, giving a pointed look as if to say ‘what did I tell you?’. Steve ducks his head, bashful and so happy he can’t contain it. He ends up lightly nuzzling Eddie’s hair, making the metalhead shiver in his arms.

“Not gonna get any sense out of that one,” Wayne grumbles. “Steve? Pizza? You able to answer for that boy of yours?”

Steve’s cheeks hurt from his smile. He lifts his head and answers, “Yeah, my boyfriend would love pizza, thanks Wayne.”

Eddie squirms in his hold, burying his face in Steve’s neck. Wayne just shakes his head as if they’re a lost cause, but he turns and leaves shutting the door behind him.

“You called me your boyfriend, Steve,” Eddie whispers once he’s gone.

“Yeah.”

“And you meant it.”

“I did,” Steve says firmly.

And I’m going to be a good boyfriend. The best boyfriend, he silently vows.

Because he’d said it from the start: Eddie deserves someone who will hold him tight, make him happy and take him on dates. And, now that he has the opportunity? Steve is going to do exactly what he’d promised from the start: he’s going to date Eddie Munson, and this time, it’s going to be completely and utterly real.