Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Steve does it, Eddie doesn’t think much about it. Steve is laughing at something Eddie said, and then he’s against him; leaning fully into the weight of the laugh. And it’s so bright, so loud that Eddie feels like he has to blink several times just to get the sun spots out.

But then Steve is peeling himself off of Eddie, and looking away. The smile is still there, though. The remnants of the laugh linger in the air, so Eddie doesn’t think much of it.

But then it keeps happening.

Steve will move into Eddie’s orbit, unthinking, and then nearly throw himself out of it within the next breath.

At first, Eddie’s own self hatred - that snarling voice that never quite leaves him - grips him tight and hisses that it’s his fault. Too tainted, to other. Too much of a freak. But then he realizes that Steve does it with everyone. Not as much as with Eddie, but there’s moments. Eddie isn’t sure anyone else notices, but he does.

The way Steve only ever allows himself touch when it’s to comfort others. How he hesitates before reaching out. The unsure look on his face that lingers after.

And then Steve mentions to him, very casually, that his parents were never really around. That they’re assholes when they are, so who cares if he’s alone? And that hadn’t been the point of it to begin with, but now Eddie is suddenly struck with the heaviness of all of it. And he’s devastated for him. He knows the pain all too well, after all.

So the next time that Steve reaches for him - it had been very simple, just a hand reaching for his arm in passing - Eddie speaks up. “It’s okay, you know,” Eddie says matter of factly when Steve hesitates. Steve looks rightfully confused. “Touch. I don’t mind it. I don’t think any of us would. But if you need the verbal okay, here’s mine.”

As if to show Steve his sincerity, Eddie takes his own hand and squeezes Steve’s arm.

Steve looks shell shocked. It makes Eddie all the more sad for him. “Oh… okay. Thanks,” Steve says. Eddie doesn’t push it any further. He can tell that Steve is chewing on the information. It sometimes takes him a bit longer to process things, but Eddie can be patient when he wants to. And he wants to be patient for Steve however he needs. He doesn’t mind it.

The next time they hang out, Eddie sees it happen again. Steve, excited that Eddie has arrived to the small get together between all the teens, sways into his space. Eddie greets him with a grin, and patience. To his credit, Steve only hesitates a little before he sweeps Eddie into a hug.

Eddie can’t remember the last time he was hugged so wholly. It’s nice. Safe. He allows himself, just for a second, to close his eyes. Maybe this is just as much for himself as it is for Steve. Eddie has always been a little selfish.

When Steve steps back, he looks a bit proud; a bit nervous. But he’d done it, and Eddie is plenty prideful for the both of them, so he gives Steve’s shoulder a hearty clasp and spins them back around to head into the living room.

Their hangouts, just the two of them, become more frequent after that. It’s like a dam has broken, and suddenly Eddie’s life is Steve Steve Steve Steve. He doesn’t mind it. His petty school crush on him definitely doesn’t mind it.

Today, they’re sprawled out on the floor of Eddie’s bedroom passing a joint back and forth. It’s quiet. Nice. The weed makes Eddie’s body heavy and slow; a comforting weight as always. He likes seeing the way it unwinds people, and Steve is no different.

Steve is in the middle of telling Eddie about some far fetched plan Dustin had recently when he stretches and yawns. In one slow, sleepy movement Steve is suddenly curled toward Eddie; forehead brushing against his shoulder. Eddie stops breathing for just a moment; eyes wide as he watches Steve blink slowly at him. Steve’s voice is low enough that Eddie has been having to focus to really process them, and it’s even more difficult now with him pressed against him.

“Eddie?” Steve asks; tilting his head up to meet his gaze.

Eddie gives him a careful, small smile. “Yeah, I’m listening - sorry. I’m sleepy.” Which isn’t a lie.

Steve makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat. “Nap sounds good.” And as if to further prove his point, Steve shuffles closer. Knee knocking into Eddie’s thigh, cheek pressed against his arm, Steve only settles once he’s satisfied with his position.

Eddie, for just a moment, stares up at the ceiling and begs whatever higher being may be watching to spare him even just once. Somehow, fighting off an army of bats nearly feels like nothing in the light of this - just a tiny, vulnerable moment. Shit, fuck, shit, Eddie thinks vehemently.

“Okay,” he says instead, and is thankful when his voice is the epitome of calm. Steve doesn’t respond, and Eddie chances a look to realize that he’s already halfway to sleep. Eddie takes a moment to take another deep, long drag before putting it out. “Okay.”

Sleep comes to him easily, too.

Apparently, when given the ability to feel comfortable about it, Steve was clingy as fuck. He was all wandering hands and his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and hips pressed into hips and lingering looks and those horrible jock hugs with the slap on the back at the end and, and - Eddie felt like dying.

“I feel like I’m dying, Robin,” Eddie whines; rubbing his hands down his face.

“You’re so dramatic,” Robin says with an eye roll so powerful he’s surprised she doesn’t fall over by sheer force.

“What do I do?” Eddie asks, but he’s not sure what even he’s trying to solve.

Robin seems to feel the same way, as she raises a single eyebrow at him. “I mean. You seem to be enjoying it just fine.”

“That’s the problem,” Eddie hisses, and leans closer to continue to lower his voice, “My gay little heart can only take so much of Steve Harrington at such a close proximity! I’m going to explode. And it’s going to be your fault, because all you did was laugh at gay little Eddie.”

“First off,” Robin begins; disgust and exasperation written plainly across her face. “What did I just say? Dramatic. You’ve literally fought an entire army of bats off. Steve I’m too shy to ask Joyce Byers if it’s okay to stay for dinner after I helped her do yard work for eight hours Harrington is the one you’re freaking out about?”

“Okay, unfair. Joyce is terrifying - “

“Moot point, she’s basically his mom - “

“ - counterpoint, one could argue it makes it scarier - “

“Anyway. Isn’t this like, sort of perfect? What better way than to sweep him off his clumsy little jock feet than being all touchy feely or whatever?” Robin barreled on. Eddie blinked at her. She blinked back.

“Uh, well. I hadn’t actually… ya know. Planned to. Do anything.” Eddie barely gets the words out before Robin is hitting him repeatedly with the tape in her hand. He squawks, and does a very bad job at trying to bat the tape away with his hands. “Ow, ow, ow! What the fuck!”

“Why! Would you not!” She emphasizes each portion of her sentence with another, more intense swat of VHS, “Do! Anything!”

“Because! Because, ow!” Eddie finally manages to snatch the VHS away from her, and simultaneously uses the movement to make an elaborative gesture to his entire person. “I’m - “ another, more frantic motion to himself, “I dunno? Eddie Munson? And he’s? Oh, once again, I dunno - Steve fucking Harrington? Wow, wonder how that would go.”

Robin purses her lips, and it’s quiet for long enough that Eddie starts shuffling on his feet. “…You know that doesn’t matter, right? Especially not to him?” When Eddie doesn’t respond, Robin pokes at his chest. “Eddie, come on. You guys hang out almost every day now. You know that doesn’t matter. Not to him, not to us. Not to the people that matter.”

Robin is right, which she unfortunately almost always is. Eddie sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He grimaces, and tosses the tape back onto the counter. He hazards a glance toward the front door of Family Video, as if just by speaking of him Steve would materialize. “I’m just scared, alright? Like always.”

“That makes two of us,” Robin says, softer than she’s been towards him in a long time.

Eddie is suddenly in the hospital, blinking his eyes open, and Robin is softly cussing him out for scaring them all. There are tears in her eyes and her hands are fisted in the front of his hospital gown like she wants to shake him, but she’s gentle. So careful. Eddie wants to cry with her. He does.

“Yeah, well,” he says lamely, the memory stuck in his throat, “well. Well!”

“Uh huh,” Robin says, unimpressed. “So, anyway. When you’re ready to come up with some grand, elaborate scheme on how to seduce Steve, let me know. It may make me wanna hurl, but you know. I want him to be happy.” She thinks about it for a moment with a playful tug to her lips. “Oh. You too, I guess.”

“Gee thanks, Robin. Love you too, or whatever,” Eddie grumbles, but can’t help but laugh along when Robin does. Bastard. “Bastard,” Eddie says with affection.

The hugs are somehow impossibly longer now. Steve has some unconscious method of hugging, Eddie realizes. The initial embrace is a tight squeeze, and then the lingering hug. Right before he lets go, he’ll give another firm squeeze. And then, if it’s a good day, his fingers will trail down the spine carefully.

Eddie wonders if he hugs anyone else like that, but doesn’t let himself pay attention enough to find out. It would be a slippery slope either way.

“Dude,” Steve is giggling, face inches from Eddie’s. Eddie doesn’t dare to blink, scared he’ll miss even a moment of this - Steve, laughing and bright and alive. “Dude, you look like a wet poodle,” Steve says; giggle coming back full force. His laugh pitches him forward a bit, and then his forehead knocks against Eddie’s.

Eddie should be upset, should be trying to get out of the range of the sprinklers that he and Steve had gotten surprised by (stupid rich people, he’d thought moments after, but then Steve had happened and now he’s thinking it’s not so bad). He should be upset, but then he’s matching Steve’s laugh and they’re bending close together and giggling and he’s fucking soaked but god is this perfect, perfect.

It’s been two days, and Eddie hasn’t heard from Steve at all. Eddie feels foolish, being this worked up over it. People had lives! It was normal to not talk to someone every day. But he and Steve had spoken at least once every day for the past month and a half. And now, with this sudden silence, Eddie was suffocated with anxiety.

What was the last thing he said to Steve? Had he offended him? Was he okay? Eddie hadn’t gotten the chance to visit Family Video in a handful of days - was he annoyed he hadn’t gone to see him? Did he finally get tired of him? What if he -

Eddie was resolutely trying to ignore his simmering panic by trying a particularly difficult chord progression over and over and over again until his fingers were numb. He’d sort of stopped listening after a while, however, so he wasn’t sure if it was actually getting any better.

Eddie’s hand slips, and his guitar whines underneath him. “Shit,” Eddie mutters; lips pursed. “God.”

He was just about to try again when he realizes the phone is ringing shrilly in the living room. His heart, despite himself, leaps with the hope that maybe it’s Steve.

He gets to the the living room faster than he would ever admit.

“Hello?” He greets; swallowing down a small, harsh breath from the short jog.

“Eddie, man,” says the other voice, and Eddie’s shoulders slump. Dustin sounds exasperated on the other end, which wasn’t anything particularly new.

Eddie sighs. “Yeah, what’s up, Henderson?”

“It’s Steve,” Dustin says, and immediately Eddie is at attention again. “Oh my god, he will not shut up.”

Now that was particularly unusual. “Uh, what? About what? And why does this involve me?”

“It’s about you. He didn’t come pick me up today, which is like. Super weird.” Eddie found himself nodding even though Dustin couldn’t see him. He couldn’t think of anything short of the second apocalypse that would stop Steve from helping any of the kids. “So I went to go check on him. Apparently, he got sick and didn’t bother telling anyone. So now I’ve got a giant baby here and I can’t take care of him because he won’t let me.”

Eddie frowns. “He won’t let you?”

“Yeah! Every time I go to do literally anything it’s Eddie this, Eddie that! Oh, Dustin, you’re not good enough - go get Eddie for me!”

Eddie’s cheeks warm, and he fights a splutter. “Wh- huh? Me?”

“Yes, you! I dunno, man. Something about his stupid, fever addled brain is convinced that you’re the only one that can take care of him right now. He didn’t even want Robin to come over to help. Robin, Eddie. I’m actually going to lose my mind.” Dustin says this all in one breath, which tells Eddie that he really is on his last shred of patience. He takes a deep, calming breath before continuing, “so, please. Please, for all of our sakes will you come over and help? He’s uh. Actually kind of worrying me.”

And if Eddie hadn’t already been looking around the room for his jacket, that last sentence would have spurred him into action immediately. A worried Dustin was… concerning. “Okay, okay yeah. I’m, uh - tell him I’m on the way.” Eddie says while still trying desperately to not think too deeply in to the fact that Steve only wanted him.

“Thank god. Okay, I’ll tell him. You know, it’s fine to like - be in love or whatever, but this level of codependency can’t be healthy, Eddie. Once he’s feeling better you may wanna think about, like, existing outside of each other’s asses - “

“Hey, woah, woah!” Eddie interrupts, face aflame properly now, “we’re not a thing, Dustin. We’re just friends.”

Dustin snorts. “Seriously? Wow. Well. Maybe this a note for when it happens - “

“When? Excuse me, you don’t even know if I even like hi-“

“- just remember this, alright?” Dustin continues. “Codependency is bad. And annoying. Specifically for me, in this very exact situation. Now get over here and help your future boy toy or whatever.”

“Oh my god don’t ever call him that ever again that was awful - “

“Byeeee,” Dustin sing-songs, and hangs up.

Eddie stares down at the phone in his hand in disbelief. “…What just happened?” He asks the empty room, but the only answer is the loud beep on the other line.

By the time Eddie arrives at Steve’s house, he’s worked himself up into a flustered mess once again. Dustin scoffs at him audibly, so he figures he must be making some sort of distressed face. However, Dustin quickly shoves a glass of water and some medicine in his hands and ushers Eddie so quickly up the stairs that he can’t say anything in retort. “Steve,” Dustin says and barely knocks before swinging the door open sharply. “Your nurse is here, finally.”

There’s a lump on Steve’s bed that Eddie assumes is actually Steve, as it shifts at his name. “Wassit?” Steve’s voice is muffled and wrecked. Eddie grimaces in sympathy.

Dustin shoves Eddie inside the room and says, “The love of your life, apparently,” before slamming the door closed behind Eddie and leaving them to it.

“Dustin!” Eddie hisses at the closed door; heart nearly in his throat.

The lump shifts, and Eddie can barely make out a single sleepy eye from the barely lifted covers. “Eddie?” Steve asks.

“Oh, uhhhh, hey, Stevie.” Eddie laughs nervously. He raises both items in his hands like an offering. “Dustin told me you weren’t feeling well. Wanted to see me. What’s going on?”

Steve makes an affirming noise, and shifts further until his head is barely peeking out of the covers. He’s covered in sweat and his hair is the worst tangle of bed head Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. He, somehow, looks miserable and endearing all at once and Eddie’s heart aches with it. Steve’s nose is red, and he sniffles and coughs before he answers, “Mm, yeah. Wanted to see you.”

Eddie smiles a bit, amused. “Yeah, man, what I said. Why wouldn’t you let Dustin help you?”

Steve sighs heavy and slow, and Eddie swears he can hear his lungs rattle. “Can’t make him sick.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Oh, but it’s okay if you make me sick?” He’s just teasing, but the look on Steve’s face is suddenly panicked so he hurries to clarify. “I’m just kidding, I get it. Dustin’s just a kid.”

Steve relaxes at this, and nods a bit. “Mmmhm.” The hum is deep from his chest; heavy with sleep. Eddie inches closer to the bed to try and coax Steve up. Steve ignores the hand prodding him above the covers to blink slowly up at Eddie. “Wanted to see you.”

“You’ve said that already, b- “ Eddie bites down on the endearment so quickly he almost bites his tongue. “-bud.” He finishes lamely. Shit, shit.

“Oh,” Steve replies, none the wiser. “Thought you’d make me feel better.”

“How?” Eddie asks, because Steve sure as shit hasn’t attempted to accept the bottle of medicine he keeps shaking in front of his face. He just keeps looking up at Eddie in a daze.

“Cuddle,” Steve mumbles, but it comes out as more of a wheeze when he begins to cough.

Jesus fucking Christ. “Steve, I really don’t mean this to be mean, but cuddling with someone who looks like death warmed over might not be the best idea.”

Steve took a minute, much longer than usual, to contemplate this. “Oh…” Steve nods very slowly; eyebrows furrowed. “True. Don’t wanna,” a yawn that somehow turns into another cough, “get you sick. ‘M sorry.”

“Oh, Stevie, no,” Eddie says as he finally relents to this losing battle and puts the water and medicine on the nightstand. He moves the blankets back a little so he doesn’t accidentally sit on wherever Steve’s body starts and ends under the blankets, and settles on the edge of the bed. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay, I’m glad you want me here.”

“Really?” Steve whispers, and Eddie suddenly is struck with how young he looks right then. Eyes wide, face flushed with fever, Eddie suddenly remembers that - shit. They’re all so young. Barely twenty.

“Really,” Eddie agrees, and loses against the urge to brush Steve’s sweaty hair out of his face. Steve closes his eyes at the contact, and hums in contentment. Jesus Christ on a bicycle. “I was worried about you when you didn’t call.”

Steve frowns, eyes still closed. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, and Eddie has to stop him from trying to sit up. “The - work, and, and Dustin. I told him I’d take him to - shit - “ and then Steve is curling into himself with a horrible coughing fit.

“Hey, hey, easy.” Eddie begins to rub careful circles into Steve’s back. The coughing begins to die down as soon as it started, leaving only Steve heaving through the aftermath. “We have it taken care of. Dustin told me when he got here that he’s already called everyone. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

When Steve looks back up at him, his eyes are watery from exertion, and Eddie fights a grimace of sympathy. “Really?”

His hair is in his eyes again, so Eddie brushes it away again. “Yeah, really. Promise. Now, do you think you’ll be okay if we try to have you take some medicine? It’ll help you feel better.”

Twenty minutes later, Eddie is sitting on the floor beside Steve’s bed reading The Hobbit for what truly may be the thirtieth time. Steve had finally gone back to dozing after keeping the medicine down, and Eddie had gotten settled in for the long haul.

He was halfway through the third chapter when he heard a soft, quiet, “Eddie?” from above him.

Eddie turns around to peek up at the Steve Lump on the bed, and found him already staring at him from under his cocoon. Eddie smiles. “Yeah? Feeling okay?”

Steve’s nose scrunches in serious contemplation, and Eddie very nearly coos. “Mm. Dunno. Hard to tell,” Steve replies, but his voice can’t seem to reach past a throaty whisper.

“Did you need something? Want some water or tea?” Eddie tries. Steve shakes his head. “Soup? Dustin pulled out your like, entire cabinet’s worth of soup for you.”

Steve shakes his head again. “Was just checking.” Eddie tilts his head in a silent question, and watches as Steve’s eyes slowly close again. “If you were still here.”

“Of course I am,” Eddie says, because it’s true. Of course he is. “You know that right? Of course.”

Steve’s smile is small but genuine. “Mmhm,” he agrees. “I know. ‘Swhy I wanted,” he clears his throat, and obviously fights a cough. “Wanted you here.”

“Only for that, and not my amazing sense of humor?” Eddie asks with a grin.

Steve’s smile widens. “That too.”

“How’s Dingus feeling?” Robin asks hours later, when Steve had finally managed to drift back to sleep.

Eddie sighs, and leans back against the wall. “Honestly, not so great. He won’t eat anything, and will barely drink water. I’m getting a little worried.”

Robin makes a soft, concerned noise. “Jesus. I’ll bring over some stronger medicine when I’m off work in a bit. Maybe I can bully him into eating something.”

Eddie laughs quietly. “Yeah, it’s worth a shot at this point. I didn’t anticipate spending ten minutes bargaining with him to even take medicine, but here we are.”

Robin snorts. “Sounds like him, honestly. The second you put something that’s good for him in front of his face, suddenly he doesn’t want it. Sometimes I think it’s…” Robin trails off. “Anyway. I’ll be over soon. Try to hold down the fort til I’m there, yeah?”

Eddie, still mulling over what she’d just said with a deep frown, hums. “Yeah, sure, man. See you.”

“Hey, wake up,” Robin says as she shakes Steve’s shoulder. Or what she thinks his shoulder is under all the blankets.

“Eddie?” A quiet, gruff voice travels into the air from beneath miles and miles of fabric.

“No, lover boy. He’s downstairs making us some dinner. Which you’ll be eating soon.” Robin retorts.

The mound shifts, and Steve pulls his blanket down to his chin. He’s got a soft, sleepy smile on his face. “Rob, you’re here,” he greets.

Robin feels her expression soften, and she rolls her eyes affectionately. “Yeah, I’m here. No thanks to you.” She ruffles his hair, and immediately regrets it with how sweaty and tangled it is. She wipes her hand on the blanket-shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you let me come help?”

Steve frowns, and it takes him a long moment to think of an answer. “Didn’t wanna make you sick.” Steve says, and covers his nose and mouth with the blanket as if to try and shield her from himself. “Go ‘way.”

Robin rolls her eyes again. “So you can’t make me sick but you can make Eddie sick? That’s kinda rude.”

Steve’s frown deepens, and the pause is longer this time. “No… I think I…” Steve coughs, and grimaces. “Just wanted to… I can’t remember. Feel better.”

“God, you’re hopeless. It’s disgusting and endearing.”

They eat dinner in Steve’s room, and it’s fine for all of ten minutes before they have to help hurry Steve to the bathroom to throw it all up again. Eddie helps keep Steve’s hair out of his face while Robin gets him more water, and soon Steve is lowering himself to the bathroom floor to curl up in the fetal position there.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says; concern leaking into his voice as he shifts to kneel beside him. “Stevie, talk to me. You alright?”

Steve only nods minutely. Eddie doesn’t quite believe him, but then again he did just throw up only soup.

Robin comes back in with water, and hands it to Eddie. She takes a moment to flush the toilet. “Drink some water, Dingus,” she says.

“Don’t wanna,” Steve mumbles, but his words are heavy and slurred like it’s hard to even speak.

Eddie frowns as he notices he’s begun to shiver, but he can’t tell if it’s the fever or the throwing up or both. He looks up at Robin. “Hey, do you think we should call Joyce? Maybe she’ll know something.”

“Oh.” Robin’s eyes widen. “Oh shit! Why didn’t I think about that? Yeah, I’ll go do that. Be right back.”

Robin is barely out the door before Eddie catches Steve trying to sit up. “Hey, easy. Let me help.” It takes a minute of very careful maneuvering, but Steve finally sits up as best he can. When he does, he leans his full body weight into Eddie. “Sorry,” Steve whispers softly. He’s shivering so badly that Eddie wraps his arms around him in hopes of helping even a little. “‘M sorry,” and this time the words come out watery, almost a hiccup.

“What’re you apologizing for? It’s not your fault you’re sick,” Eddie says. Steve doesn’t reply, and only shakes his head. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and turns his head to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

“It’s okay, promise,” Eddie reassures him, because he’s not sure what else to do. “It’s okay.”

By the time Robin comes back, there are tears in the collar of Eddie’s shirt and Steve hasn’t stopped shivering.

Joyce Byers is a god send. She sees the distressed looks on both Robin and Eddie’s face post Steve meltdown (meltdown may be the wrong word. It was too quiet, too inward to really be a meltdown. But it was the closest thing they had to a word for something that heartbreaking, that had resulted in Steve crying weakly into Eddie’s shirt for so long that he passed out with exhaustion) and immediately moves to comfort them. “Oh, that bad, is he?” She asks softly, and squeezes their shoulders. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him back feeling better in no time, okay?”

After they tell her what they’d been trying, she nods and smiles at them gently. “You did everything right. You’ve been taking perfect care of him. Good job. I’ll take over for a bit, why don’t you two take a break, okay?”

When Joyce climbs the stairs, they watch her in muted awe. “I’m in love?” Robin says, confused.

It startles a laugh out of Eddie. “And you say I’m the useless gay.”

“Hey!”

Joyce is both a god send, and a magic worker. Through her careful coaxing and expert Sick Person Translator, she manages to not only get Steve to eat just the right amount to not make him sick but she also convinces him to take his medicine. When she comes back downstairs, she’s smiling but there’s a furrow to her brow. “Alright, he’s doing okay, now. I’m concerned about how high his fever is, but hopefully the medicine will help bring it down.” She moves to put the empty bowl into the kitchen sink, and returns to the living room where Eddie and Robin are sprawled out on the couch. “If it doesn’t improve by tomorrow, we may need to take him to the doctor.”

Robin scrunches her nose. “I don’t know if he’ll want to go.” Eddie nods in agreement.

“I know,” Joyce sighs. “But, if we need to, we have a bargaining chip.” At the two’s confused looks, Joyce sends a pointed look Eddie’s way. Eddie, shocked, points at himself. “Yes, you,” she laughs. “Steve is a nice boy.”

“Okay??” Eddie asks; just as confused as before.

“Oh!” Robin snaps her finger, and points at Eddie. “She means he’s a total pushover to people he likes!”

Eddie splutters, “Wh - huh? I don’t - I’m not - um?”

Joyce laughs. “He asked about you at least three times. It’s precious. But, I bet if you asked him very nicely, he would do it for you.”

Eddie manages to look confused through all the blush. “But he even refused to drink water when I asked??”

“It’s about how you ask, not if,” Joyce says, as if that explains anything.

To Robin, it seems to make total sense. “Oh, good point!”

“No? I don’t understand at all?” Eddie exclaims; throwing his hands about. “What does that even mean?”

When it’s time for Steve to take his medicine again, the women shove the bottle in Eddie’s hands with a laughed, “Go on. Ask him the right way,” before leaving him to fend for himself.

Eddie wishes he could hate them, especially when his first attempt doesn’t work. Steve simply shakes his head no, and rolls over so his back is facing him.

Eddie sighs. What the fuck does the right way even mean?

“Steve, man, help me out here. They’re gonna be pissed if I don’t get you to take this,” Eddie tries.

Steve shifts just a little. “Stomach hurts,” he says instead.

“I know. But this will help, okay?” No response. Eddie frowns, and shuffles closer to Steve from his place sitting on his bed. “Hey, Steve.” No response. Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder. “Steve, look at me. Please?”

Steve, with great effort, turns to stare up at Eddie through tired eyes. “Mmh?”

Eddie smiles despite himself, and laughs quietly. “Listen, we’re all really worried about you. We just want to help you feel better, and this will help. Will you take this, please? For Rob?” Eddie tilts his head closer to him, just barely. Rubs circles into Steve’s arm. “For me?”

Steve blinks up at him for such a long moment that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t even hear anything he’d just said. But then he quietly, with a grimace, responds, “Okay.”

Eddie brightens. “Really?” Steve nods, and Eddie’s smile widens. Carefully, Steve’s mouth tilts up in response. “Thank you. That makes me happy.”

“Oh,” Steve mumbles. “Oh, okay. Good.”

The girls look up at him when Eddie comes back down the stairs. When he shakes the empty water cup at them, they laugh and say, “see what we mean?”.

Robin and Joyce leave for the night with extensive instructions for Eddie, and mountains of soups and medicines for Steve.

With his sudden realization that he wasn’t leaving that night, Eddie came upon a dilemma. He hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

“Stevie, can I borrow some clothes?” Eddie asks after he returns from refilling Steve’s glass of water.

“Mmnyeah,” Steve yawns. “Stayin?”

“Yeah, man. I think it would help both of our sanities if I stayed over. That okay?” Eddie asks. He gains a nod and a smile from Steve. “Great. I’m gonna go shower, then. Need anything?”

“No,” Steve says. “Careful. Water’s hot.”

Eddie chuckles, and pauses on his way to Steve’s closet to carefully ruffle his hair. “Got it, thanks. Anything okay to grab?”

“Course,” Steve says, and shuffles around to pull his hand out of his blankets. He flops his hand toward his closet. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want? Careful of promises, Stevie. I might want too much,” Eddie says as he moves to open the closet. “Your softest hoodie will be all mine if you keep that up.”

Steve hums in thought. “You like soft things?”

“Yeah, man. Used to drive Uncle Wayne up the wall when I was younger. I would have to touch every blanket first to make sure I got the softest one.” Eddie laughs softly at the memory; smile widening when he remembers starkly the exasperated look on Wayne’s face.

“Green hoodie,” Steve replies. “Softest. Wear it, okay?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder to give Steve a thankful smile. “Preciate it, man.”

Steve’s smile back at him is sleepy and so gentle Eddie nearly has to look away by the sheer force of it. “You deserve nice things. Soft things,” Steve whispers so quietly that Eddie almost isn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it. He doesn’t get a chance to reply, as Steve is burrowing further under his covers. “G’night, Eds.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. His face feels warm. Nice things.

Steve is a nice thing, Eddie thinks.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve isn’t doing any better the next morning, but despite his increased wheezing and heavy eyes, he notices Eddie still in his hoodie. “You like it?” Steve asks through a shuddering breath, from the other side of another bad coughing fit.

“Yeah, it’s soft as fuck, dude,” Eddie says, smiling through his worry as Steve begins to cough yet again. “Hey, easy. Do you want some more water?”

Steve smiles, and ignores his question. “You can keep it, if you want.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Is this some kind of twisted way of getting me in jock clothing, Harrington?”

Steve laughs softly. “Not jock. Just mine.” Eddie opens his mouth to retort - something, he’s not sure what through the fluster - but then Steve is doubling over again with another fit of coughs. “Shit,” Steve wheezes when he gets a break. He lifts a shaky hand to brush the hair out of his face, and falls back into his pillow; eyes closed. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Eddie agrees, concern snowballing with every rattling breath Steve makes.

Eddie didn’t think Steve could get worse, but his fever only intensifies. It seems hard for Steve to stay awake now, or even simply roll over. It’s stressing Eddie the fuck out, but it seems to be making Steve panic even worse.

The first time Steve lets out a wounded noise, Eddie’s across the room before he even realizes. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. Steve? What’s wrong?”

“Scared,” Steve whispers, and Eddie immediately reaches out to soothe him. “Eddie, don’t…”

“Don’t what, baby?” Eddie asks quietly; hands through his hair and rubbing his arms and down his back. He feels jittery and useless. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t leave,” Steve manages; eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Don’t… it’s like. Before.”

“Before?” Eddie asks.

“Heavy,” Steve mumbles. Eddie moves to grip his hands, and Steve latches on as tightly as his energy will allow. “Scared.”

“I’m right here. I won’t leave, promise. I’m right here.”

“Robin, we need to take him to the doctor,” is all Eddie needs to say to her when she picks up.

“I’ll be there in 15,” she says, and hangs up.

She gets there in 10.

“I know, I know, baby,” Eddie mumbles into Steve’s ear in what he hopes is a soothing manner. “You’re doing so well. We just need you to sit up just a little. Can you do that for me?”

Steve makes a pained noise, but manages to comply. All the while, Eddie is whispering nonsensical encouragements into his temple. Eddie meets Robin’s gaze over the top of Steve’s head from where Steve is slumped against him. “Backup?” Robin asks.

Eddie nods, and continues rubbing circles into Steve’s back. “Joyce. I was going to drive, but…” Eddie doesn’t need to glance down for Robin to get the picture. Steve is curled into Eddie; hands fisted into his borrowed hoodie tightly as he seems to try to regain his breath. He doesn’t think Steve would let him go right then, much less would Eddie himself feel okay enough to let him go to actually drive.

Robin barely manages a nod before she’s hurrying out of the room. “Rob?” Steve wheezes when he hears the door close, but doesn’t look up.

“She’s just gonna be gone just a minute, baby. Don’t worry. She’ll be right back, okay?” Steve makes an affirmative noise, and Eddie rests his cheek against Steven’s head. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

It takes Steve a minute, but soon he mutters, “Doctor?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna take you to a doctor. They’ll help a lot, okay?” Eddie thinks he’s being soothing, but soon notices that Steve’s breathing begins to pick up.

“Okay… okay, just.” Steve takes a deep, gasping breath through his mouth. “Don’t leave me there, please. Alone. Please.”

“No, no, never.” Eddie says, distressed enough for the both of them. At the fear leaking through Steve’s words. “Never. You’re nervous about the doctor?”

Steve nods. Whispers, “Reminds me of the…” a moment is taken for him to cough heavily into his arm. “Of the Russians. Too clean. Syringes. Heavy.”

Eddie thinks this whole time that his heart has been breaking but maybe this is the tipping point. Eddie frowns deeply, and closes his eyes against it all. We’re so young, he thinks as he curls his arms tighter around Steve. He’s so young. God.

“I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll be there the whole time, okay? Me and Robin.” Eddie says, and means it.

Nancy ends up having to take them to the doctor. She shows up within 45 minutes, looking harried and concerned, and looks even more worried at the states of everything. Steve, still clinging to Eddie like a lifeline while he wheezes. Eddie and Robin, restless but exhausted. “Okay. Doctor first. Then I’m helping you two clean up when we get back.”

Eddie hadn’t even noticed the array of things strewn about Steve’s room with the hectic whirlwind of that day. With Steve deteriorating as the day went on, they’d both spent the better part of the day trying every trick Joyce had told them. There were damp towels and old water cups on the nightstand, bottles of medicine were moved up to Steve’s dressers, and half of the drawers were open from when they’d had to change Steve out of his clothes several times from the sweat. Eddie, now that he thought about it, was half certain there was a full bowl of soup on Steve’s desk that he didn’t touch earlier.

It took longer than any of them were comfortable with to get Steve into clean clothes, and to peel him away from Eddie enough to get him down the stairs. Steve was near tears by the time they got down to the steps, and Eddie found himself whispering encouragements to him while he caught his breath. “You’re doing so good, baby. So proud of you,” he said in hopes it would help, but for some reason it just made a few tears escape Steve instead.

The ride to the doctor is both short because Nancy is definitely going over the speed limit, and also innumerably long because Eddie has to listen to Steve’s pained sounds the entire way. The sunlight wasn’t helping his migraine at all, and so he curls deeper into Eddie to hide from it.

When they arrive, Robin and Nancy go in first to talk to the staff.

“Stevie,” Eddie says. His hand hasn’t stopped rubbing Steve’s back the entire time, and his other hand is smoothing Steve’s hair out of his face when he looks up at him. “Got some breath back? Think you’ll be able to get inside okay?”

Steve nods. “Mmhm. Sorry.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Nothing to be sorry about.” Steve looks like he doesn’t believe him, and Eddie wonders vaguely when all this heartache will stop. Instead, he smooths Steve’s hair back again. “I’m serious. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Just focus on feeling better, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, and lays his head back down against his chest.

Steve is given a truly tremendous amount of antibiotics, an inhaler, and a strict diet plan. He was tense the entire time at the doctor, and when he wasn’t clinging to Eddie he was clinging to Robin so tightly his knuckles were white. Eddie made a point to tell himself to ask Robin about the specifics of the Russians, and how to stop Steve from ever feeling like that again.

Steve is laid down on the couch when they return, and almost immediately falls asleep. “Okay. We’re cleaning up,” Nancy says in her no nonsense voice, but her face is still contorted in worry as she glances at Steve curled up on the couch.

In just a few hours, the house is clean again and Steve has fresh bedsheets on his bed. Eddie and Robin are also thrown in to the bathrooms with strict orders to “chill out and get clean, you look like a mess”.

When Eddie is done with his shower, hair damp and in another borrowed hoodie (this one is a pastel yellow and just as soft as the first one) he comes down to find Nancy talking to Steve quietly. She’s knelt down by the couch, talking to Steve who has cocooned himself in a blanket again. “- sick. We’ll all be fine. You’re not allowed to be concerned with anyone else right now until you’re able to sit up without having an asthma attack, Steve,” she’s saying, but her tone isn’t harsh. Instead, it’s gentle and exasperated. “Can you do that?”

Steve says something that Eddie can’t hear, but it makes Nancy laugh.

“God. You’re such a pain in the ass,” she laughs, and pats his shoulder. “Get some more sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

The doctor says he hopes that Steve will be on the up within a few days. Full recovery within a week and a half. Eddie thinks that if he has to listen to Steve softly cry from sheer exhaustion one more time, he may actually lose his mind.

With the revelation that this would not be over any time soon, Eddie is practically thrown out of the house with orders to go home and get what he needs before coming back.

Eddie tries not to work himself up with worry the entire drive home.

Wayne’s just entering the house when Eddie is almost done packing up. He pauses by Eddie’s open door, and leans against the doorway. “How’s your boy?” Wayne asks, because he never cared whether or not he’d give Eddie a fucking heart attack by saying shit like that.

“Wh - he’s not my boy, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie exclaims as he shoves a few more books into his duffel bag. Wayne simply raises an eyebrow at him. “He’s not!”

“Uh, huh.” Wayne snorts. “You look like shit, son.”

“Gee, thanks,” Eddie grumbles, and remembers to grab his notebook as well. Might as get some lyric work done if he can manage.

“Not doing so great, then?”

Eddie sighs, and his shoulders slump. He rubs his hands down his face. “So bad. He’s been.. it’s been scary,” he admits. It feels good and awful to say it out loud. “He’s so out of it all the time and he gets so overwhelmed he starts crying and it feels like I can’t do anything to fix it so I just sit there and watch him be so miserable and - “

“That is scary,” Wayne agrees, because he’s kind and understanding and so inherently good sometimes Eddie wonders how he and his father can be from the same blood. “It’s always hard seeing people you care about hurt when you can’t do anything. But I’m sure you’re doing a lot for him, just being there right?”

Eddie thinks about the desperate grip Steve had on him in the doctor’s office. The wide, panicked look that crossed his face sometimes that only calmed down when he caught Eddie’s gaze. “I like to think so.”

“Then you’re doing good, kid. He’ll be okay. You’ll make sure of it, won’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

Eddie enters Steve’s house quietly, just in case he’s sleeping on the couch still.

Instead of Steve, Robin is propped on the couch with a plate of pizza. “Pizza’s in the kitchen,” Robin says in lieu of a greeting; waving her slice towards the aforementioned kitchen. “Get some food before you’re back on nurse duty.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, alright. Where’d it come from?”

“Spite. Steve’s dad called and didn’t care that he’s half in the grave. So we asked Steve if we could use his card to buy some shit.” Robin’s grin is sharp and dangerous. “So we got pizza and Nancy’s gonna drive us to the store soon to buy some very imperative movies and snacks. You know. Since they can’t be here to look after their dear son they love so much. Fucking pricks.”

Eddie frowned. “They always been like that? He’s mentioned stuff to me vaguely but never really gone into details or anything.”

“Yep,” Robin says casually, but something in her eyes is burning. “Bastards.”

Eddie waits until he’s sat beside Robin, feet kicked up in her lap and a plate with a half eaten piece of pizza in his hands, to ask her about what Steve said. “Steve told me he’s scared of the doctor. Because of the Russians?”

Robin grimaced. “Shit. That makes sense, now. I was wondering why he was so freaked out. I thought it was just because he was so out of it.”

“I think that definitely didn’t help.”

Robin sighs. “Yeah. It was… bad. Drugged us. Tortured Steve. He wouldn’t tell me what they did to him. But I could have guessed. God. He was beat to shit, Eddie. Kept talking shit to them so they’d hit him instead.”

Eddie, very suddenly, could not fathom eating anything else. He places his plate on the coffee table. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Robin’s contorts with the memories; eyes far off as she looks past him. Her voice lowers as she continues, “Sometimes, if I get tangled up in my sheets bad enough when I sleep… I have this fucking sick moment where I wake up and I’m convinced I’m back there. And it’s fucking awful, Eddie. It’s just seconds of being terrified, of being back there again. And I can’t find Steve and I can’t do anything and - “

Eddie is curling himself around her before he quite realizes; hugging her fiercely. “Shit, Robin, Jesus,” he says, because he doesn’t quite know how to try and help soothe such a deep wound. Robin clings to him just as tightly; forehead buried against his shoulder as she tries to calm her breathing. “I’m so sorry, shit.”

Robin sniffles a little. “What’re you apologizing for, dummy?” Her voice is muffled, but there’s a soft little laugh under her words.

Eddie hugs her tighter. “We’re so young,” he whispers into her hair instead.

Robin is quiet for a long moment before she whispers back, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fucked up.”

Nancy leaves them with a pristinely written timeline of exactly which medicines Steve needs at what time of day, when he needs his inhaler, and when they need to try and get him to move around. She also leaves with a promise to be back, to give them a break. “No more of this Only Robin and Eddie, you hear me?” She tells Steve sternly before she’s leaving. Steve has the energy, at the very least, to look pouty. Nancy rolls her eyes. “The doctor said you’re not contagious, so that means you can’t hoard them here for yourself. They need a break, so we’re going to have other people come help so they can get some rest. Okay?”

She says okay in such a tone that it’s clear that Steve has no choice. “Okay,” he agrees quietly.

Nancy sighs, and dips down to press a kiss into his hair. “Okay. Thank you. Rest up. I’ll be back.” And in her usual whirlwind, she’s gone.

Seconds after the front door closes, Steve covers half his face with the blanket before he glances up at Eddie and Robin. “Sorry,” he says.

“Dude.” Eddie puts his hands on his hips, and huffs. “Literally what have I been telling you? No sorry’s.”

“But - “

“Hey, Dingus.” Robin leans down to violently ruffle Steve’s hair, who makes an offended noise and can only very softly swat at her hand. “Honestly, I’d be pissed if you didn’t want me here 24/7. This is my god damned due diligence as best friend. I’m happy to be here, and so is Eddie.” Eddie nods. He’d just be a worried mess if he weren’t - or. Well. Even more so. “Okay?”

This time. Steve says, “Okay,” with a shy smile.

Dustin comes over first the next day, all up in arms that he wasn’t allowed to come back until then. “I’ve been babysitting him for years before you two!” He exclaims with hands thrown in the air out of sheer offense.

Steve has more energy than he’s had in several days, and so he has enough to send Dustin a glare. “It’s the other way around, Henderson,” Steve wheezes at him after he lowers his inhaler down. Eddie watches Steve carefully - the inhaler makes him lightheaded with the effort, but he only takes a moment to blink himself right before he sits back against the couch.

“Uh, no it’s not! Anyway, I have a ton of stuff. My mom heard you were sick and she literally didn’t let me get out of the car without a box of stuff - a box! Okay, so we’ve got like, five hundred soups. Some of those really gross candies that help your cough. Oh, I brought some comics, too, and this like heated water bottle thingy. I dunno she said it might help, and then I managed to get - “

After the whirlwind that is Dustin, Max comes over that night just to check in. She doesn’t stay long, but does talk quietly to Steve about something that makes him laugh more than he has in a while. It ends with him coughing into his arm, but he quickly waves away Max’s concerned look.

Eddie tries not to eavesdrop, so he decides to go to the kitchen to clean up.

“So,” Max says out of nowhere, and Eddie jumps nearly a foot in the air.

“Jesus Christ, Red! God damn.” Eddie slaps a hand against his thundering heart as he spins around to face her. “Fucking warn a guy first, you little gremlin.”

She looks as though she could not care less. She probably doesn’t. “Having fun playing housewife?”

“Max,” Eddie hisses; glancing out the door as though Steve will magically appear there. “Don’t. Say anything. I swear to god.”

Max raises her hands; amusement clear across her face. “If you say so, Mr. Harrington.”

“Oh my god, stop!” But she’s out the door before he can say anything more.

The next day Hopper and El arrive. “We have brought Eggos,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

Eddie laughs. “That’s great, man, thanks. When he can eat something other than soup I’m sure he’d be ecstatic.”

“Ecstatic?” El asks; trying out the word carefully as Eddie lets them in.

“Yeah. It means like, really happy.” Eddie explains. He’s still a bit nervous about Hopper, but the smile he sends him is genuine.

“Ecstatic,” El repeats again, and nods. “That is good. Eggos make me ecstatic, too.”

“Go on, put them in the freezer, will you?” Hopper asks El, and she nods before hurrying off. Eddie moves to head deeper in to the house, but Hopper stops him with a hand on his arm. “Munson.”

Eddie blinks up at him. “Hopper?” He says, but it’s more of a question.

Hopper sighs. “You look like shit, kid.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” Eddie asks, incredulous. “Do I really look that bad? Jesus.”

Hopper snorts. “Yeah. You do. I get it. Believe me. From what Joyce tells me, it was pretty bad, right?” Eddie purses his lips, but nods. “Yeah. Then I get it. Go home, sleep in your own bed.”

“What? No, I’m fine here - “

“Go home,” Hopper says again. Stern. Eddie shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “Sleep in your own bed. You can come back tomorrow. He’ll be fine. We’ll be here.”

Eddie can’t in good conscious tell him that Steve’s nightmares have gotten worse with the fever, spurred on even more with the antibiotics. That he or Robin had been taking turns sleeping beside him for the inevitable times that he’ll wake up screaming. Multiple times a night. But he had to tell him why he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave Steve alone like that. They’d finally gotten Robin to go home herself. He couldn’t leave him. “He - he needs someone. At night. I can’t just - “

“We’re staying the night. Got our bags in the car.” Hopper replies. His voice is still no nonsense, but his eyes are soft. “We can take care of him while you get some rest.”

“He - “ Eddie sighs. Lowers his voice. “Look. He gets… he gets fucking scared, man. When he’s really out of it. Especially at night. It feels shitty. If I leave.”

Hopper nods. “I get it. Munson, look at me.” Hopper waits until Eddie meets his gaze. “I get it. I was in the hospital longer than I can remember when my little girl was doing bad. I know, kid. I know. But I also know that you, looking like a god damned zombie, is not going to help. Get some rest. We’ll take care of him. Promise. Right, kid?”

This kid is directed to El, who’s wandered back over to them. She smiles. “Yes. We will take very good care of him. He has taken very good care of me. I would like to return the favor.”

And how is Eddie supposed to argue with that?

When Steve wakes up screaming, Hopper is already beside his bed. “Hey, hey,” Hopper pulls Steve into his arms, easy. “You’re okay, kid. You’re okay.”

He doesn’t mention it when Steve begins to sob into his shirt.

It’s the third time Steve wakes up that night, and he does so whimpering for someone. Hopper can’t understand the words, but he hears the intention. The want beneath the panic. He’s already pulling Steve back in to his lap; easy as it’s always been. Hates that he’s gotten so used to comforting crying kids. “What're you saying, kid? Can’t help if I can’t hear you.”

“-ddie,” Steve croaks; body shaking like a leaf. He hasn’t had the wherewithal to be embarrassed like he normally would. Just small and scared and somehow that makes it feel even worse for Hopper. “Is he okay? I - there was - blood and the screaming - “

He’s half way babbling, by this point. Hopper didn’t catch the name quite enough, but he can hazard a guess. “He’s alright, kid. He’s asleep. We’re all safe. Everyone’s home.”

Steve is quiet as he processes the words, the only sound his heavy breathing. “I had to,” a gasping breath that Hopper thinks is supposed to be an attempt to get his breathing under control but doesn’t work, “I had to… I thought he was dead. Had to carry him home. He was so cold. I thought - “

“Shit, kid,” Hopper pulls him fully into his lap now; frown deep on his face as he cradles Steve’s head against his chest. Steve’s half way through a shaking sob. Hopper is surprised he has tears left to cry - Munson hadn’t been exaggerating. It’s bad. Shit. “I know. I know. But you got him out of there. He’s safe. We’re all safe. You did so good, kid. You did so good.”

And then Steve is properly wailing. And it’s awful and painful and all Hopper can do is hold him tighter; rock him back and forth like he used to to his own so long ago. He’s just a kid, he thinks, full of anger and hurt and despair for him - for all of them, he’s just a god damned kid.

When Steve falls asleep, he doesn’t wake up again all night. But Hopper stays there, cradling him against his chest. He can’t fix it all, but he can do this at least. He’s good at this.

Hopper calls Eddie first thing in the morning, but it’s Wayne that answers. “Eddie’s still asleep. The Harrington boy okay?”

Hopper sighs. “Gonna be honest with you, Wayne. These kids are gonna put me in an early grave.” Wayne chuckles at this, and agrees. “Kid had a rough night. Kept asking for Eddie.”

Wayne chuckles again. “Yeah. Seems like Eddie was half way out the door most the night too. I’m glad they got each other, at least. Shit they been through… well.”

Hopper sighs. “Yeah. Yeah. Alright, well, tell your kid to get his ass over here when he’s up.”

“Yeah, will do. Not that I think it’ll take much convincing.”

Hopper laughs. “Yeah, good point.”

Eddie thinks that sleeping away from Steve is an awful thing and he won’t do it again until Steve is completely healed. His own bed be damned.

It doesn’t help that Uncle Wayne tells him as soon as he’s up and about that Hopper had called for him.

Armed with a new duffel bag of items and a renewed sense of yeah, fuck leaving him heavy in his mind, Eddie makes the familiar trek back to the Harrington house.

Hopper doesn’t even make him sit through pleasantries when Eddie arrives in a whirlwind. He simply rolls his eyes, and shoves him towards the stairs. “Go on, git. You kids are exhausting me,” he says, but his tone is kind and his eyes are amused.

Eddie nearly trips up the stairs in his haste.

Steve looks just as sick as before, curled under his mountain of blankets. But he still finds the energy to smile when he sees him. Like the moon peeking through the clouds - sleepy, and bright, and beautiful. “Eddie,” Steve greets as bright as he can manage, and Eddie’s the one who feels like he can breathe again.

For once, it’s not Steve waking Eddie or Robin up. It’s Eddie, coming to consciousness in such a violent manner that even though he can’t remember what woke him, he knows the familiar aftermath of a nightmare.

“Eds,” Steve whispers.

“Steve,” Eddie chokes out at the same time, and they both are turning towards each other at the same time. Eddie’s shaking, clammy hands meeting Steve’s too warm ones in the air just above the blankets and they both latch on like their lives depend on it.

“‘S okay,” Steve whispers, voice barely a rumble through the illness. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

He says it so softly, so tenderly that Eddie feels tears sting at his eyes. “Yeah,” he agrees; hopes in saying it out loud he’ll convince his brain. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

They wake up around the same time the next morning, forehead to forehead. Fingers still grasping each other, legs just as entwined as they lay curled toward each other. Eddie watches as Steve blinks to consciousness; eyes finding his immediately. And he smiles soft and slow at him so genuinely that Eddie finds himself mirroring it immediately. “Eddie, g’morning.”

“Mornin, Steve.” Eddie whispers, and can’t remember ever waking up so gently.

Three days later brings Steve more awake and steady than he’d been in nearly a week. Eddie is so relieved at the sight of a clear eyed Steve that he’s able to sleep longer than four hours that night.

The next day, with Steve’s fever properly gone, the Harrington house is descended into chaos via a gaggle of over excited children.

Lucas, Mike, and Will are all arguing about what movie to watch in the living room. Dustin and Robin have disappeared into the kitchen to grab the truly abhorrent amount of snacks that Nancy and Jonathan had dragged over. It’s loud, and bright, and feels right. This is how a house with Steve in it should feel. It’s what he deserves.

“I’m getting drinks. What do you little gremlins want?” Eddie asks as he pauses by the sofa. Three pairs of eyes peer up at him. Max and El had successfully bullied Steve into letting him be their personal mannequin. His hair has several different braid in them. The right side is loose as El is still perfecting her braids, while Max’s side is tight and efficient. Steve seems at peace with his situation. It hadn’t been hard for the girls to persuade him.

“I can help - “ Steve begins, but Eddie is immediately shaking his head.

“Absolutely not.” Steve frowns at him, and Eddie usually can’t tell Steve no for shit. But it’s easy this time. Even with Steve’s frown turning in to a pout. Eddie smiles down at him. “When you can walk more than three feet without wheezing, then maybe - maybe - we can let you do your usual Mother Henning.”

“Okay, first of all I don’t do that and secondly, that’s not even a verb.” Steve retorts.

“Yes you do, and it is now. Girls, what do you want?” Eddie asks; ignoring Steve’s loud, offended huff.

“Coke,” Max says simply; frowning down at the braid she’s working on.

“I would like the orange one, please,” El responds. Her focus is just as detailed, but her fingers fumble together and she has to start over. She’s frowning as well, much deeper than Max.

“Got it. And the man of the hour?” Eddie asks.

Steve is still pouting at him, and he’s quite the sight. It’s painfully endearing at his attempt to look displeased when he’s so obviously relaxed. He’s slumped into the couch so the girls can reach his hair easier, and wearing his most oversized hoodie with a large blanket over his lap. When Eddie had been helping Steve down the stairs hours before, he’d noticed the striped fuzzy socks he’d been wearing. The thought had him laughing again. Steve huffs even louder. “Coke is fine,” he finally relents.

“Okay,” Eddie says; laugh dancing behind his tongue. He leans down to tap the underside of Steve’s chin. “Was that so hard?”

“Shut up,” Steve mutters, and Eddie can feel the glare on his back the entire way to the kitchen.

Max snorts directly in to Steve’s ear. “That was pathetic.”

“Shut up, Max.”

“You’re like, super red.”

“Shut up, Max.”

When Eddie is leaving Steve’s house - for good, this time - they both linger in the foyer. Steve has thanked him multiple times, which Eddie always brushes aside. And he’s doing so again, even with Eddie’s hand on the doorknob. “Steve,” Eddie laughs. Steve’s mouth snaps shut. “How many times do I have to tell you, man? I’m happy to help. I’m just glad you’re feeling better. You gave all of us a scare, you know?”

Steve sighs, and rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. Sorry - “

“We talked about that, too. I dunno if you can remember most of it since you were pretty out of it, but no apologizing.” Eddie shifts his duffle bag to his other shoulder.

“I remember,” Steve says quietly. “I remember a good bit, I think.” And suddenly Steve looks shy, and Eddie feels his face warm instinctually. Shit. What all did he remember? And now Eddie’s brain is going a mile a minute trying to remember every single Sick Steve interaction that may have caused him to want to be so shy. Shit, fuck. But before he can spiral too much, Steve is continuing, “Which is why I want to thank you so much. You did a lot for me, man.”

Eddie sighs, and smiles. “Alright, alright. No need to use the eyes on me, Jesus.”

Steve’s smile turns a little sly. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Eddie laughs. “Ass.”

Steve laughs too, and then he’s moving in to Eddie’s space. Eddie opens his arms easily, and finds himself wrapped in Steve’s warmth immediately.

There it is, again. The firm squeeze when he first gets his arms around him. The lingering, Steve’s temple pressed against his. The second squeeze nearly tighter than the first. And today is a good day, because Steve’s fingers skate down his back and find their places on Eddie’s forearms as Steve pulls back.

Eddie is faced with the full force of a Steve Harrington Winning Smile and feels breathless just like always. “Get home safe, Munson.”

Eddie reaches up to clasp his elbows; press his fingertips into the skin there. “When Your Highness asks it of me, how am I to say no?”

Steve rolls his eyes, smile never leaving, as he shoves Eddie gently away; steps back out of his space. Eddie misses him already. “Get outta here. You’re so dramatic.”

Eddie makes an elaborate bow. “Verily.”

Eddie steps out the door, and hears Steve shout, “What does that even mean?” after him.

This time, his drive home is peaceful and content.

If Steve was clingy before getting sick, well. Eddie is clingy enough for the both of them now, and then some. Gasoline to the fire, they both circle each other in a tight; careful orbit. Fingers dancing over skin and whispers in ears and knees knocking knees.

Robin has many choice words to say about it all, but thankfully never mentions it all in front of Steve. Part of Eddie is still a little scared that if someone mentions it, it’ll break the spell. That Steve will stop searching out Eddie in a room, and finding a place beside him.

Until someone does.

“Don’t you get tired of being up each other’s asses?” Mike asks with a scrunched nose one day.

Eddie and Steve had been whispering to each other, and looked up at once to face him. It’s quiet for a long moment as the room stares at the two, and Eddie is mortified. Can’t make himself look at Steve. He’ll know. They’ll know. It will all stop - all because Mike couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Eddie can’t even begin to formulate a response, but thankfully Steve does it for him. “God, do you try to be as obnoxious as possible every time you open your mouth, Wheeler?” Mike bristles at this, but Steve doesn’t let him say anything. He instead wraps an arm around Eddie, and pulls him into his side. Eddie, flustered and ripped off balance, goes easily and has to find purchase digging his fingers into Steve’s sweater. “And to answer your rude ass question, no. I’m just fine how we are.”

Eddie blinks at Mike, who blinks at them both. For once, Steve is the sure one and the other two can’t find words to say.

So instead Mike scoffs, rolls his eyes, and goes back to loudly explaining to the others just how they’re supposed to be getting around Eddie’s latest dungeon trap.

Only now Eddie risks a glance up at Steve, who hasn’t let him go yet. He’s watching the kids, but feels the gaze on him. Looks over to send Eddie his big, goofy smile and is oblivious to just how much he makes Eddie’s heart clench.

Steve leans down to whisper in his ear, “I think he’s just jealous.” And Eddie wants to ask him who exactly he’d be jealous of but Steve’s lips had brushed against his ear to speak and he can’t think of anything but the sensation. All he can do is nod jerkily and let out a small, stilted laugh.

Fucking jocks, Eddie thinks, but knows that has nothing to do with it. It’s all Steve. Just Steve.

“I got you something,” Steve says, and looks so shy that Eddie has to fight the instinctual urge to coo. “Here.”

Eddie takes the bag with a grin. “Harrington! You shouldn’t have. For little old me?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling brightly. “Shut up, you haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Don’t need to,” Eddie replies in a sing song voice, but impatiently digs around the bag as he does so. His fingers brush something soft, and soon he’s pulling out a swathe of fabric.

“It’s getting colder,” Steve is hurriedly explaining. Eddie can’t see his face right then but can easily imagine the slightly distressed look. “And I know you like soft things but I haven’t seen you really wear anything actually warm that isn’t that jacket of yours so I thought that maybe - “

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts. He takes one last look at the very simple, but very soft and heavy black knit sweater before he lowers it; brings it to his chest. He’s grinning, bright, and sees the moment Steve realizes he’s smiling. Sees the smile bloom across his face in response. Feels so fucking sharply how much he loves the man in front of him. “I love it, man. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, good.” Steve is still grinning, obviously relieved. “I’m glad.”

And that’s all Eddie wants, really.

Maybe that’s all Steve wants, too.

Eddie had been so sure before that it would have been a lost cause to try and pursue anything with Jock Extraordinaire Steve “Probably The Straightest Guy You’ll Ever Meet” Harrington. But that had been an excuse, had always been that. And now Eddie has the months and months of memories of Steve’s genuine excitement to see him, his careful touches, his rapt attention when Eddie was explaining shit he had no idea about, the soft tone he’d get around Eddie and only Eddie. Has the soft hoodies in his closet. The even softer sweater he’s wearing at that very moment.

He should maybe, probably try to confess.

“I should maybe, like, probably try to confess,” Eddie says and finds that it is just as terrifying a thought out loud as it had been in his head. Jesus Christ. “Jesus Christ.”

Robin snorts in a rather undignified manner. She’s currently upside down on Eddie’s couch; hair brushing the floor as she stares up at the ceiling. “I’ve been telling you that, dummy.”

“Yeah, well! I didn’t know if… I didn’t think I had a chance. Not really. But then…” How could Eddie even try to easily summarize the snowball of instances that only continues to grow?

But he doesn’t seem to have to as Robin just nods. “Yeah. If I thought he was obvious before, psh. It’s even worse now.”

“Before?” Eddie asks; voice pitched high. “But he wasn’t - “

The look Robin levels with him, even upside down, is bored and exasperated. “Eddie. I swear to god.”

Eddie is wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

Eddie can’t help but being anxious around Steve just a little bit now. Steve, because he’s an amazing friend and watches everyone he loves closely for any sign of discomfort, sees this immediately. “You okay?” He asks quietly from his place on the other end of their couch. There’s a quiet record on in the background, and Steve is reading some book Dustin had convinced him to read.

Eddie has his song writing notebook in his lap, legs curled up on the couch with pen smudges on the side of his hand. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay,” Eddie says in what he hopes is a calm tone. Totally chill.

Steve watches him for a long moment. Steve furrows his brow just a little bit as he contemplates this. “…Okay. Been sleeping okay?”

He’s started checking in with Eddie since that night when they’d ended up curled together; knuckles and knees locked. It’s sweet. He’s sweet. Eddie aches with it. “On and off,” Eddie admits, because he wants badly to meet that genuineness with his own. Finds it easy to do so. “Not much last night.”

Steve nods. It’s usual for all of them. “You wanna stay here? Might help.”

Eddie has never been able to tell Steve no, and certainly not when he wants this just as badly. “Sure. Thanks, man.”

Hours later, it’s late into the night. The air is quiet and Steve has just finished turning the nightstand light off. He turns back towards Eddie, and they’re already inching toward each other. Steve’s elbow brushes against Eddie’s arm, but neither of them move away.

Steve smiles at him, soft and warm, and Eddie feels his own answer easily. “Goodnight -“

“Steve.” The name is out of his mouth before he realizes. And then he knows - this is it. Of course it is. He’s nervous immediately; fingers twisting in to the sheet. “I, um. Care about you. A lot, man.”

Steve blinks at him, surprised. And then his smile widens. “Me too.”

But that’s not quite what Eddie meant, so he shakes his head a little. Hair slips into his face and it seems so easy for Steve to reach forward. Like it’s nearly second nature for Steve to carefully tuck the hair behind his ear. It’s so - “I’m in love with you,” Eddie says quietly. The fingers freeze against the shell of his ear. “I’m kind of suffocating with it, man.” His laugh is soft and nervous and he wants desperately to look away from Steve but he can’t tear his gaze away.

Steve’s eyes are wide, mouth slightly open. His fingers don’t move from their spot against his skin. “Really?” He asks in nearly a whisper, and there’s so much hope packed in that one little word that Eddie’s chest twists sharply.

“Yeah. Really, really.” Eddie confirms.

“Oh,” Steve says. It’s like his voice can’t raise with the shock of it all. His voice is still a rumble as he searches Eddie’s face. “Oh.”

Eddie smiles. Tries so hard to make sure it’s a steady one. “Yeah.”

Eddie watches as Steve’s face unfurls into something beautiful. Something full of hope and excitement and then suddenly he’s giggling; leaning closer in to Eddie’s atmosphere. “Eddie. Eddie, me too. Shit. I’m so fucking in love with you, dude. Holy shit.”

And this time the, “Really?” falls from his own lips. Feels that same shock. That white knuckled optimism gripping his rib cage. “Fuck. Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs. His forehead knocks into Eddie’s; body shivering from his subdued laughter. “Yeah, man. I’m kind of obsessed with you. You didn’t notice?”

“No,” Eddie says truthfully. Thought that it had always been that undying optimism he could never quite shake telling him he saw things that weren’t really there. Is happy when he can now look back on all those moments and realize they’re exactly what he’d been hoping all along. “Shit.”

“Really? The begging for you to come take care of me didn’t clue you in?”

Even though Steve is the one who should be embarrassed, Eddie finds himself warming sharply. “I - well! I don’t know, dude. I was kind of scared to get my hopes up.”

“Well. That’s pretty idiotic for a guy who's so smart.” Steve shifts impossibly closer, hand moving to cup Eddie’s cheek. His thumb rubs softly back and forth. Eddie can feel his heart in his throat. “I love you so much it kind of fucking hurts, dude.”

“Sap.” Eddie says it like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard, because it is. “Fucking shit. If you don’t kiss me right the fuck now - “

But Steve is already leaning in, and it’s so easy for Eddie to meet him there.

Their first kiss is soft, and gentle, and testing. Steve leans away just enough to meet Eddie’s eyes, to check in. And Eddie grins wide; heart fluttering sharply. Steve copies his smile, and he’s back on him again. This one more solid and insistent as he moves his lips against his. The hand against his face is firm but just as careful. Eddie fists his hands into Steve’s shirt; finding himself dizzy with it all. Finds himself even more so when he’s pushed back into the bed so Steve can hover over him; lips never leaving his.

Someone makes a soft, strangled noise and in the next moment Eddie realizes in the back of his head that it’s him. He thinks vaguely maybe if his heart beats any faster he’ll explode. And then he’s thinking Oh, fucking shit as Steve swipes his tongue across his bottom lip. He opens his mouth easily for him; exhales shakily moments before Steve is exploring his mouth. Fuck, shit, fuck.

Steve backs away ever so slightly, and Eddie immediately chases him; tugs on Steve’s shirt until he’s flush against him again. It’s Steve’s turn to breathe out a stuttered breath, his turn to melt against him. Eddie reaches up to curl his fingers in Steve’s hair; takes a moment to bite at Steve’s lip. Is so pleased when Steve shivers in response that he’s surprised he doesn’t start grinning. “Fuck,” Steve whispers shakily.

Eddie giggles. “Fuck,” he agrees, and then they’re both giggling; breathing in the same air, lips brushing. Eddie can’t remember a time when he felt so unbalanced by sheer joy. Can’t remember someone he’s laughed so much with, like this. Feels many things, but mostly feels indescribably lucky. “Steve fucking Harrington. Can I take you on a date?”

“Eddie fucking Munson,” Steve replies, and takes a moment to give him one more lingering, deep kiss. Mutters his response against his lips, “Nothing would make me happier.”