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Eddie hated feeling so insecure, so afraid.
But a pretty straight boy deciding “you’re making me want a guy - want you” just seemed too impossible to be true.
This was King Steve desiring him. Eddie “The Freak” Munson. It just didn’t fit into any universe he could imagine – except one.
It was their shared trauma. It was Steve being lonely and having no one else in the group he could have in this way. (Not with Wheeler still dating Byers and Robin wanting women.) It was because Eddie was so fucking in love and desperate for him that he’d take anything he was offered with both hands.
(He’d give Steve anything; whatever he wanted, whatever he asked for, Eddie would offer it. Get down on his knees and give his all.)
And as much as every second of it brought him more joy than he’d ever imagined he could have – it wasn’t going to last.
Eddie knew it deep down. Knew he was hurtling hard and fast towards heartbreak, but he still reached out and took it, because how could he not?
He’d honestly expected to go back to being the avoided freak on the sidelines after the Upside Down was over. But Steve hadn’t scorned him or pretended he didn’t exist. He’d shown up at the trailer to check on him after he was released from the hospital. He’d waved and shared numerous friendly conversations any time he walked into Family Video.
Steve, just like the rest of them, accepted him into their group like he was meant to be there. They all became his friends, invited him to their activities. Sometimes, it was just him and Robin, or him and Steve.
And he fell so fucking hard and fast for that lonely, caring, heroic dork that there was no possible way to stop it.
And then when Steve had confessed that he wanted to kiss him, with slightly shaking hands but stubborn determination - he’d grabbed him, he’d kissed him, and he’d known it was going to break him.
He’d figured a few kisses would be it - that Steve would freak out over one brush of his hard on and book it. But Steve had kept kissing him, groaned into his mouth and gripped his shirt like he was afraid Eddie would let go.
And, then after he’d got his hand on Steve’s cock, got him off and came in his own pants like a fucking virgin – Steve had… stayed.
He’d fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Eddie’s chest and he’d stared down at Steve Harrington in his bed and tentatively stroked his hair, smiling when the younger man had let out a soft contented sound. He’d wrapped an arm around the man’s back and waited for everything to blow up.
But it hadn’t.
Steve had grinned the next morning, traced one of his tattoos with a fingertip. He’d acted just like normal and Eddie had done his best to follow suit, still feeling shocked. Even more so when Steve had gotten dressed and kissed him goodbye.
He’d been left reeling in the trailer with his heart skipping a beat.
But, he’d soon worked it out.
Steve turned toward affection like a sunflower toward the sun. And Eddie gave affection to Steve, constantly and unthinkingly. It was no wonder he’d got his wires crossed, thinking that he liked Eddie when really, he just craved the attention.
So, he’d snap out of it. He’d work out that he didn’t want a boy in his bed – that he wanted a girl. Steve just had to wait long enough for the right one to come along – and in the meantime, there was Eddie. Willing to kill time, willing to get him off, to give him all the attention and affection he craved.
And while that happened Steve would be… his.
Eddie knew he was giving too much of himself to this. He was holding Steve close, kissing him with all his heart and getting on his knees to make Steve cry out in pleasure.
The first time Steve had done the same, sucking him off uncertainly but with that same stubborn determination, Eddie had come too fast, too hard, with tears pricking his eyes.
He’d dragged Steve up his body, kissing him sloppily and fisting a hand tightly in his hair. Steve had moaned and Eddie had needed to keep their mouths attached so he wouldn’t say something he couldn’t take back.
A few times, Steve had tried to ask about their relationship, but he’d tensed and kissed him, doing everything he could to keep Steve from outright putting into words what he didn’t want to hear.
But, Steve was innately stubborn and one night, lying in bed smoking in the aftermath, Steve had pushed up from lying on Eddie’s chest, making him immediately miss the warmth and feel of him. His fingers had twitched to pull him back, but he’d kept his hand on the bed.
Steve had stared down at the sheet and Eddie’s heart had dropped but he’d tried not to let it show.
“Something the matter, Harrington?”
Steve’s frown had deepened. “Depends, Munson.”
“On what?”
“What we’re doing.”
Eddie’s blood had run cold, pounding in his ears as his heart had fallen to his feet. He’d taken a careful drag on his cigarette, buying time and trying to keep from panicking.
“What about it?”
Steve had focused back on the bed, plucking at the sheets.
“We’re kind of dating, right?
Eddie’s breath had almost punched out of him.
‘Yes!’ He’d wanted to shout. ‘We’re dating. You’re my boyfriend. I won you, not some blonde cheerleader. Me.’
But common sense had forced him to say something more flippant, “Didn’t realise we’d even been on a date.”
Steve had sent him a look, part exasperated and part nervous. The second part had made Eddie want to reach out, cup his cheek and drag him close, promise he didn’t ever have to be nervous or uncertain of how much he was adored when around him.
But, well.
He’d long known this wasn’t going to end happily for him.
(But he couldn’t leave his sunflower without warmth.)
“But yeah, we’re kind of doing that, I guess.”
Steve had smiled, small but pleased and Eddie’s traitorous fucking heart had leapt and his mouth had opened to add, “So, you know, if you want to do anything else, more, whatever. We can.”
Steve had looked shocked and Eddie had felt his earlier dread, this time it crawled up to his throat choking him but doing it seconds too late.
But then Steve’s smile had grown and he’d said, “Guess I better take you on a date then.”
And Eddie… he’d been too fucking weak, too fucking needy. He’d nodded jerkily and Steve had crawled back into his arms like it was the most natural place for him to lay – like he belonged.
Eddie had closed his eyes and pulled in a deep inhale of smoke, trying to ignore the voice in his head screaming, ‘he’s taking you on a date, you’re going on a date’.
Because that thought would only lead to pain. Because soon enough, Steve would find his girl, give her a proper wining and dining, and Eddie would just be one in a sea of many. Only guy, at least. And there was a spark of satisfaction in that. He might not be the end result, but at least he could be the first and the only. That had to count for something.
(Although, it didn’t count for much.)
It hadn’t ended there, of course. Dates that could have been perfect left him ill at ease and smoking more. He loved them when he was there, smiling at Steve and laughing at his ridiculous jokes, admiring how gorgeous he was and letting their fingers link under the table.
It was all so fucking nice – but every high came with a low and they always came when a girl flirted with Steve, when someone glared or spat at him. When they got back to the trailer and Steve kissed him goodbye and left for work, his empty home, or somewhere that wasn’t with Eddie.
And he fucking hated how every minute that Steve wasn’t with him, he was wondering if it was the day it finally happened; when the girl of Steve’s dreams walked into Family Video, ran into him out shopping, or flirted with him when he was out with Robin or the kids.
It ate at him worse than the fucking bats, chewing him apart from the inside.
(But when Steve came back, his sunflower seeking his warmth; he held him and kissed him and loved him – loved him with everything he had and then whatever else he could scrape together.)
And Steve wasn’t stupid. Not as smart as Wheeler or Robin, but he was perceptive, he could connect the dots. He was also brave enough to bring it up. (Not like Eddie. His acts in the Upside Down aside, he had always been a coward and he wasn’t about to stop now.)
“Eddie,” he’d said one day, watching as Eddie had strummed his guitar, writing a song he’ll never properly play.
(Love songs aren’t exactly metal. But heartbreak ones probably are.)
“Hmm?”
“We’ve been dating a while.”
Dating, it always shot something warm and giddy down his spine to pool in his stomach. But then the rest of the words had registered and he’d nearly screwed up the next chord.
“You sound unsure of that, Harrington.”
His voice had changed then, annoyed, “And you always call me Harrington if I bring it up.”
It had, and probably always would be, a defence mechanism; the only way to keep his heart protected from the first strike. The first ‘I’m done with guys now’.
Eddie hadn’t looked away from his guitar. “What are you bringing up?
“This. Us. What we’re doing.”
The conversation Steve had been edging around and gently floating for a couple of weeks, like he was trying to work out parameters. Trying to work out his exits and how boxed in he actually was.
Eddie had shrugged jerkily, sweat dampening his palms and nausea curling in his stomach. Because this topic had always veered him towards the cliff that would send him hurtling back to solid ground.
Not your boyfriend, not your happy ending. Not your Stevie. A temporary sunflower you got to shower with love and hold tight – but not forever. Not for you.
“Eddie-”
“We’re doing stuff together. Dating. Fucking.” His mouth had felt dry. “Until we’re not,” he still hadn’t looked at Steve. “You leave when you get tired of it, Steve.”
“And you?”
Eddie had smiled vaguely but hadn’t responded, plucking an absent string instead.
He was never going to leave, he’d have to be dragged away from Steve by the hair, kicking, snarling and reaching out for the unattainable - but, there had been no reason to tell Steve that.
“And you?” Steve had persisted, as if pouring salt into a wound not yet formed. “When do you leave?”
He’d looked back at Steve, seeing something vulnerable that had made his heart clench.
‘Never,’ he’d wanted to say. Or, ‘I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me, baby.’
Instead, he’d said, “Not any time soon, sweetheart.”
And the endearment and his soft voice had been fucking damning but Steve had smiled, brightening like that sunflower, desperate for acceptance and love. He’d crossed the space in the room, leaning into Eddie and kissing him with gentle hands cupping his cheeks.
It had felt so fucking loving that he’d almost wanted to sob, his eyes stinging and his hands moving from his guitar to clench in Steve’s t-shirt.
And even though the kiss had been good and the sex that had followed even better, Steve had never said he wasn’t leaving and Eddie still hated how much it hurt and replayed on his mind.
Because all it had done was confirm a truth he’d always known.
Six months, it wasn’t a lot of time, really. Half a year, fucking nothing – but that was how long he and Steve had been… together.
Together.
A word that made Eddie want to scream his triumph at the world, or bury in his bedding and curl up in a ball.
Robin always teased them when they were hanging out; light-hearted and affectionate as Steve leant against him or he wrapped himself around Steve’s waist. He liked those moments when they were happening; when it felt real, when Steve felt real. They were the times when he didn’t feel anything but giddy that Steve was his.
But it never lasted. Because he’d always fucking known it wasn’t going to be his happy ending - and that moment, that dread he’d been carrying from their very first kiss was finally about to burst out, taking his heart with it.
Steve had been acting odd for a week. Ever since he’d gone to Indianapolis with Robin. Neither of them had invited him and he’d tried not to feel left out over that. It was a feeling that hadn’t diminish for the two days he’d been gone.
Once Steve had got back, he’d expected him to show up at the trailer – but instead, he’d phoned. They’d talked, Steve saying he was tired and that he’d see him in a few days.
A few days.
He didn’t visit the trailer or invite him over. He acted… odd. Nervous laughter, quick to deflect, long pauses as he came up with something to say.
Steve Harrington, universal bad liar was… lying.
And Eddie hadn’t needed to be a fucking genius to work it out – but it had still taken him until the end of the fourth phone call. Staring at the phone, faintly hearing the dial tone and slowly working it out.
Steve had left Hawkins. He’d been in the city for two days with Robin. Steve Harrington could never find the right girl in this small, backwater town with too many memories. But in a big city? There were so many more chances.
That was why he had always gone there, for fucks sake; finding hook-ups in gay bars and kissing them in back alleys. A place where no one knew “The Freak” or could send any more rumours back to Hawkins.
Steve had finally found a girl. His sunflower had turned in a new direction and Eddie was so fucking glad he was alone in the trailer when it finally hit.
Because the raw sound he made, the way he dropped to his knees and covered his face to try and catch the tears - Uncle Wayne didn’t need to see that. No one needed to see his heart shatter the way he’d always known that it would.
He cancelled the Hellfire meeting they were supposed to have that night, giving a quick and flimsy excuse before hanging up and hiding in his room - in his bed. A place that still faintly smelled of Steve, mixed in with weed and cigarettes. He almost cried again, but buried his face in the pillow instead, breathing in the final vestiges of their relationship.
It only made it hurt more.
Wayne had knocked on the door at some point, confused about why he was here and not out at DnD, but he didn’t look up, didn’t respond, just curled tighter around his pillow. Eventually his uncle had left him be, but he did bring him in a plate of dinner, gently patting his back and offering to listen.
He didn’t answer and he didn’t touch the food.
And maybe, if he’d been smart enough, been fucking ready to finally lose Steve, he’d have been able to hide how torn up he was. He’d have been able to realise exactly what Wayne would do in a fit of concern about his wellbeing.
Because, not an hour after his uncle had found him, someone new was knocking on his door and cracking it open.
“Eddie?”
His stomach clenched even as his heart leapt. He turned, even knowing it was a bad idea, but there he was in a shirt and jeans, brow furrowed with concern.
“Steve?” He swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”
“Your uncle called,” Steve said, closing the door and coming cautiously into the room. “So did Dustin. You cancelled DnD.”
Eddie looked away, staring at the bedding. Steve sighed softly. He also came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. He touched Eddie’s leg but he flinched. Steve’s hand hesitated in the air, but slowly came down again.
“Eddie,” he said, his voice so soft and gentle. “I was going to come over in a few days, maybe tomorrow if I didn’t have the patience-”
“Fuck,” Eddie gasped, pushing his palms into his eyes. “Please, Steve. C-Can we not do this today?”
His voice cracked at the end, and he should probably feel ashamed but he just felt too fucking heartbroken to care. He didn’t want to hear it yet. To hear, unequivocally, ‘I met this girl, sorry, Eddie. Do you mind if we just go back to being friends?’
Steve’s hand stayed on his leg and the room was silent.
“Eddie,” Steve said, “you’re afraid I’m breaking up with you, aren’t you?”
Eddie stiffened completely, feeling caged in and exposed, his heart pounding so hard it felt like he was once again running for his life.
“Eddie,” Steve said, so much pain and affection in the tone.
Eddie felt the bed shift, knew Steve was moving closer, but didn’t want to look, not until Steve grabbed his wrists and gently tugged them down. (And if Steve asked, he could only ever comply.)
His hair was still curtaining some of his face, but he could still see Steve, see the sadness in his gaze a moment before he ducked in, gently pressing their lips together. Eddie’s heart spasmed and he whined, pressing back against him desperately.
“Eddie,” Steve breathed against him, pulling back. “Eddie. You’ve got to stop thinking this, man. I’ve been trying to show you for weeks that I’m not going anywhere but you keep shutting me down.”
Eddie shook his head, denying it.
“I have been,” Steve insisted, frustrated. “We’re dating, we’re sleeping together. I’m always here. Or, if I’m not, you’re at my place or we’re hanging out.” Eddie still couldn’t look at him, not until Steve spoke again, his voice losing its confidence and becoming pained. “Eddie, please. Tell me what I… what I did to make you think-”
Eddie was up immediately, hands cupping Steve’s cheeks and meeting that sad, vulnerable gaze. He stroked his thumbs along smooth skin, memorizing the perfect features of the man he loved.
“You didn’t,” he whispered.
Steve frowned. “But-”
“You’re going to meet a girl,” Eddie said roughly, finally putting it into words. “You’re going to… work it out. This isn’t it for you, Steve. How the fuck could it be?” He closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. “Just been holding on, waiting until you say bye to me, Stevie.”
Steve sucked in a very sharp, short breath.
“Right,” Steve said, his voice flat and making Eddie cringe. “At least I finally know what the fuck is going on in your head.”
He then sighed heavily, seeming to deflate. Steve’s arms also came up, wrapping around his shoulders. He didn’t pull Eddie into his body, but he did start soothingly rubbing his back.
“You’re not an experiment, Eds,” Steve said quietly. “It’s you I want.” Eddie shuddered and his hands came to Steve’s shirt, fisting it tightly. “I’m not going to find some random girl and decide I want her.” He chuckled softly. “I had a whole gay crisis for you, I went through that because I wanted you rather than anything easier or by denying it ever existed.”
Steve’s hand went into his hair, stroking through the strands gently.
“I really, really like you, Eddie,” Steve said firmly. “I like your stupid nerdy shit, your loud music and the way you throw yourself into everything. How you’re so fucking you and don’t let anything stop you. I don’t even look at girls anymore, because why the hell would I? I’m too busy thinking about you.”
Eddie muffled a sob, bitting his bottom lip hard, trying not to let the sound escape. He went to bury his face in Steve’s chest, but he flinched backwards and Eddie froze.
“Sorry, shit,” Steve said. “That’s not… um. Look.” He cupped Eddie’s chin and drew up his face, making their gazes lock. “Ignore that for a second. Just. I didn’t meet a girl, Eddie. I’m not breaking up with you. We’re still us. We’re still good.”
Eddie chewed hard on his lower lip, still feeling a strong urge to fucking cry, but swallowing it down harshly.
We’re still us. We’re still good.
It rattled through his brain along with all the other assurances Steve had given; the words seeping into his skin, soothing aches and digging out rot that had been festering ever since their first kiss.
“Eddie?”
He couldn’t verbalise it, so he nodded. Steve shifted closer, his hand moving to cradle his cheek before drawing him into a soft kiss. Eddie kissed back, chasing the affection, feeling like their roles had switched but unable to help drawing on the comfort of every touch.
When they broke apart, Steve’s smile still had a tinge of sadness to it, but he thumbed Eddie’s lower lip and then under each eye, likely feeling the residual stickiness from his tears.
“Eds,” he said softly, “did I tell you why Robin and I went to Indianapolis?”
Eddie shook his head. Steve’s smile ticked up, growing but somehow also becoming a little nervous.
“Well, I have this boyfriend.” Eddie startled at the word, his eyes widening at hearing it. “He’s a sweet guy, bit of a fucking idiot, but I’m sure he could say the same about me.” He swallowed. “And, I um.” He looked down, removing his hands from Eddie to fiddle with his shirt. “I could tell he was a bit unsure about our relationship.” His eyes flicked up. “But he seemed to still want me.”
“I do,” Eddie rasped out, hearing the need for assurance. “I don’t want you to go. I-”
He stumbled over the next words, wanting to say so much, but not feeling able to get them out: I love you. You’re all I want. You’re my happily ever after, my sunflower.
He didn’t know how much of that showed, but Steve took his hand, squeezed and let go.
“Right,” Steve continued. “Well.”
He stiffened his shoulders and grabbed the hem of his shirt before yanking it over his head. Eddie blinked, not expecting the action – but then, his eyes caught on something on Steve’s chest. Something new.
His breath left him in a rush and he scrambled closer, their knees knocking as he pressed his hand on Steve’s chest, his fingers just below the small black bat. But not just any bat, it matched one of the bats on his arm. It wasn’t much bigger than his pinkie, but it was clearly defined, still healing, and inked over Steve’s heart.
“Steve,” he gasped.
“I could say it’s because we both survived those fucking demobats and it got us closer, but," Steve’s voice turned softer. “It wasn’t about that. I got it because it’s yours.”
Eddie’s hand trembled on Steve’s chest, and when Steve wrapped an arm around him, he realised his whole body was shaking.
“It’s… it’s over your heart, Steve.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, simple and unhesitating.
As bold as black ink on skin – as a declaration of where his love lied.
Eddie’s eyes blurred, and even when tears slipped down his cheeks, he didn’t look away from Steve’s chest.
“Eddie-?”
“You got a tattoo, Steve,” he whispered. “You got a tattoo about me.”
He tore his gaze from Steve’s chest to his face, seeing Steve blushing faintly. Eddie had so many questions he wanted to ask, he also had so much he wanted to say his emotions pressing against his chest so hard that he felt he could collapse under them.
“Stevie,” he whispered, “Sweetheart, sunflower. I love you so fucking much.”
Steve’s eyes widened but before Eddie could feel more than a single second of panic, Steve tipped forward, their foreheads resting together as he said, “I love you too, Eds.”
Eddie barely bit down on the next noise that wanted to escape, instead, he dragged Steve closer, mindful of how fucking sore a new tattoo could be. He got the man on his bed, on his back and dropped down on top of him, his head pressed to the other side of Steve’s chest, allowing him to look right at the bat in flight. A bat that would match the ones on his arm, not a single line or stroke out of place.
He wanted to trace it, wanted to touch the lines that were permanent, a physical and painful act that showcased exactly how certain Steve was about him – about them. Instead, he traced below it, feeling a giddy joy that, for once, wasn’t tainted on the edges by fear and heartache.
Steve’s hand went into his hair, playing gently with the strands.
“Are we good, Eddie?” Steve asked quietly, a thread of worry still in his voice.
Eddie jerked his head up and down, swallowing hard but not able to say any words. He knew he’d have to talk about this more with Steve later. He’d have to apologise and Steve would fuss over him and insist that he talk about his feelings any time he got worried in the future but… but he could handle that.
In fact, he would take it with both hands, grasp it so fucking tightly and feel nothing but warm – because all he’d have to do was see Steve’s chest, to touch him and know what was there.
Steve had made them permanent in a way he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t just choosing him because he was convenient or gave him attention. Steve had said he loved him and had needles scratch it into his skin to prove it.
His sunflower had chosen him after all. He’d just been the one unwilling to notice it.