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Steve wouldn’t say he expects it.
He honestly, truly, does not see it coming. All he knows is that Eddie shows up with Robin for the now usual movie night at his house looking so tightly wound that Steve genuinely worries something Upside Down might be happening, but when he looks at Robin, she shakes her head.
She also squeezes Eddie’s shoulders in a way that looks both comforting and encouraging. He flashes her an incredibly weak smile, but doesn’t really do anything. He sits down on an armchair—not the couch which, over the last few months, Steve is used to him sprawling over, getting limbs all over him and Robin—his leg is jumping up and down like he’s a second away from leaping to his feet.
Steve decides to just pretend the weird atmosphere and behaviour isn’t there. He bitches about his shift and the stupid new rules Keith is trying to implement. He hands out sodas (Eddie only getting jumpier the closer he stands, not even taking it from him and making him put it on the coffee table) and gets the movie ready. He heads to the kitchen to make popcorn, hearing Robin whispering something to Eddie.
Steve potters around in there, taking his time and giving Robin and Eddie a chance to talk.
He’s just getting out a bowl to pour the popcorn when he hears boots squeak on the tiles. He looks over his shoulder to find Eddie in the doorway. His gaze is fixed on his shoes and his hands are shoved deep in his pockets.
“Hey, man,” Steve says, keeping his voice casual. “You need something?”
“I, um.” Eddie swallows. “We’ve um… I mean. Upside Down shit, and.” Eddie chews his bottom lip, hands coming from his pockets so he can shove them under his armpits. “You, ain’t a bad guy, Harrington, and, I, well…”
Steve puts down the bowl and cautiously steps closer. “Eds? Are you okay?”
“We’re hanging out and, Robin… she. Well, she said, maybe I should. And fuck. This is fucking… and I mean—”
“Eddie,” Steve says, quiet but firm. “Whatever’s wrong man, you can tell me.”
Eddie nods his head, harsh and painful looking. He then squeezes his eyes shut like he’s bracing for something and blurts it; “I’m queer.”
And this, yeah, this is something Steve does not expect. It’s not because Eddie’s been particularly straight, he just doesn’t ever think about people in those terms. Robin is the only queer person he has ever known and he still doesn’t really think of people as being that.
But as much as it shoots up his eyebrows in genuine shock, he can also see the way Eddie is very faintly trembling.
“Dude,” Steve quickly says, keeping his tone soft. “Thanks, man, for telling me.” Eddie peeks open one cautious eye. Steve gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “We’re cool.”
“We-we are?” He stutters.
“Yeah, of course, Eds.”
And because Eddie looks so horribly afraid, Steve closes the space and gently pulls the other guy into a hug. Eddie’s breath catches before he’s suddenly gripping the back of Steve’s polo, fisting it in his hands and clinging as if Steve’s the only thing keeping him standing.
Steve gently pats the guy’s back, feeling awkward, not because Eddie’s queer, but because he legitimately does not know how else to comfort the guy. His only other coming out conversation happened when he was high on drugs, doing it while sober is new territory for him.
“So, uh,” Steve begins.
“I’m not into you,” Eddie abruptly blurts. Steve blinks in surprise, but Eddie hurriedly pulls back. He offers a nervous, uncertain smile. He’s fidgeting on the spot, one foot tapping an anxious rhythm. “I just… I like guys, but I’m not like. You’re not my type, okay, man? I don’t find you hot or anything.”
Steve blinks again only to frown.
“Wait. Wait, hold on. You’re saying I have two best friends and neither of them find me hot? Dude, what the fuck?” It’s Eddie’s turn to blink at him, looking startled. “No, seriously, what am I doing wrong?” He grabs his polo and tugs on it, another hand goes to his hair before he looks back at Eddie. “Come on, man. I thought for a fucking second one of you might boost my damn ego.”
Eddie gapes at him for a long moment before he suddenly laughs, the sound bursting out of him; high-pitched and strangled.
“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Eddie gasps out. “Are you fucking serious?”
Steve scowls and crosses his arms. “You said I’m not hot.”
“And most straight guys would like to hear that,” Eddie insists, his arms back around his body and his shoulders pulled up near his ears.
Steve doesn’t like it; the defensive posture. He wants to get rid of it, and he decides that the best way to do it is to continue with the current theme; to make it normal for Eddie. Because Robin said it was nice to just talk about it, to be accepted for it. Steve wants to give that to Eddie too.
So, he insists, “But this isn’t fair.” He makes sure to whine, to really play it up with a pout. “I work so fucking hard man; the hair doesn’t just do itself.” He puts his hands on his hips. “You’re telling me I’m striking out with girls and now even guys don’t think I’m pretty?”
Eddie’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes wide like he’s legitimately at a loss for words. It’s perfect timing, because in the seconds that follow Robin cautiously pokes her head into the kitchen, her eyes pools of concern.
“Hey, guys. Is everything okay?”
Steve whirls on her immediately. He points at Eddie.
“Robin, Eddie said I’m not hot. No one thinks I’m attractive anymore. He won’t tell me why I’m not pretty.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie groans, his voice strained.
Eddie puts his palms to his face and rubs them, but even as he does, Steve can see pink on his cheeks and the hint of a smile not to mention the dropping of his shoulders. Eddie’s awkward and embarrassed, sure, but he doesn’t look afraid anymore and Steve feels a swell of happiness over it.
Robin glances between them once, but already her worry is melting away for amusement. She leans against the doorframe and teases, “I told you, Steve. You just don’t have it anymore. You’re all washed up.”
“Eddie, come on, man,” Steve wheedles, “defend me. I’m cute, right? My jeans look good, don’t they?”
“Oh, fucking—no way am I answering those questions.”
But he’s already starting to laugh, to lower his hands and look happy. The metalhead meets his gaze and Steve grins at him, and Eddie smiles back, so much relief and gratitude in his expression. It’s why Steve reaches out and reels him back in for another hug. They collide a little roughly but Eddie squeezes him back fiercely.
Robin just continues to tease, “No girls and no guys, Steve. Might have to get out the ‘you suck’ board and hang it up permanently.”
“I suck?” Steve says. “No, you both suck. You don’t know a cute guy if he walks in front of you.”
“I definitely don’t,” Robin agrees. “And Eddie just has taste.”
In response, Steve flips her off. She grins and flips him the finger back, and while he wouldn’t normally like being so mercilessly dragged through the mud, it’s worth it for the bright flush of delight in Robin’s face and the pure relief on Eddie’s. He looks the same way he did when he’d been told he was clear of murder charges and didn’t have to run any more.
He’s also leaning fully against Steve, none of the earlier fear or awkwardness to be found. It’s why Steve decides he’s more than willing to take the brunt of this whenever Eddie needs it. His two best friends might not find him hot, but as long as they know they’re safe and can trust him, then that’s all he could ever need.
Things don’t just go back to normal after that afternoon, or rather, they do, but Steve starts to realise things about Eddie.
To start, it’s like a tension that Steve hadn’t noticed the metalhead was holding suddenly disappears. He couldn’t even say how it changes, but it’s there, like Eddie just isn’t on guard around him anymore.
But even with the air cleared between them, Eddie doesn’t suddenly start talking about dudes.
Steve does catch little things he’d previously missed. They’re super small—and he probably only sees them because he now knows they’re there—but Eddie’s gaze lingers on guys who walk past. His attention also drifts during movie scenes with scantily clad ladies, but stays riveted when it’s shirtless guys.
He tries to give Eddie space and time, like he did in the kitchen getting the popcorn, but even after two weeks, despite having come out to him, Eddie still doesn’t talk about any of it.
“Do I make him uncomfortable?” Steve asks Robin one afternoon. They’re hanging out and Eddie couldn’t join them so it’s given him the first chance to blurt all his concerns out. “Is that what it is?”
“Of course not, dingus.”
“But he never talks about guys! Didn’t I make it obvious I’m okay with it?”
She looks up from where she’d been painting her nails to give him the softest smile.
“Steve, you were great. Like, I knew you’d be good and I told Eddie that, but you were better than good. Eddie told me how happy he was a few days later.”
Steve perks up. “He did?”
“Yeah, Steve. He said he couldn’t believe you started talking about your ass and how you fit your jeans.” Her smile softens further. “He said he’d never have imagined any straight guy could be so comfortable with him. He was so happy, Steve.”
Steve feels warm over it, relieved too, but he still has to ask; “Then why doesn’t he ever, you know, say anything? He never brings up guys.”
Robin shrugs and goes back to her nails.
“It takes a lot to do that, Steve.”
“But—”
“Even though you’re okay with it, we’re not used to people being okay with it. He’d especially not be used to it from guys.”
Steve scowls, but even as he thinks about it, he realises Robin’s right. He can’t imagine Tommy H or anyone from High School being willing to sit next to a known queer, let alone listen to them talk about the people they find attractive.
“Right,” Steve says, his frown turning determined. “Okay. I’ll fix it then.”
Robin looks up at him. “Huh?”
“I’ll just let him know he can talk about it. Let him know I don’t mind if he finds guys hot.”
She frowns. “How are you going to do that?”
“I got a plan, Rob,” he says, beginning to grin. “Promise, this will work great.”
Robin squints at him suspiciously, but after a long moment, she turns back to her nail polish.
“Just don’t traumatise him, Steve. It’s hard to find people like me in Hawkins, I’m not losing him because you decided to be too enthusiastic.”
“I’m not going to traumatise him. I’m just going to let him know that he can, you know, find guys hot, and I won’t like, be grossed out or something.” Steve crosses his arms. “You can talk about chicks, so he should be able to talk about guys.”
Robin doesn’t look at him but she smiles down at her nails.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “He should be able to talk about guys.”
“I’m taking this as acceptance to my plan, Rob,” Steve insists. “You are now fully endorsing me.”
She rolls her eyes. “I am endorsing the idea, not whatever ridiculous thing you’ve thought up.”
“It’s a great plan,” Steve reiterates.
“Uh huh. So, what is it?”
“Insisting I’m cool with it,” Steve says.
“That’s not a plan.”
“It is so a plan.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus. Loveable, but a dingus.”
Steve’s only resort is to flip her off by shoving his finger between her face and the nails she’s painting. Robin glares, but because they’re still drying, it’s means he’s safe from her flailing limbs—at least for another ten minutes or so.
It takes a few days before Steve is in a position to enact his plan. He has to wait until he’s at the Munson trailer and they’re alone, but when he gets his chance, he refuses to lose it.
They’ve put on a movie that’s just come out and that he swiped from Family Video. It’s action-packed and normally it would be right up both their alleys, but Steve is paying more attention to the guy beside him than anything on the screen. It means he’s able to notice the exact moment someone in the movie interests Eddie in that way.
His attention goes that little bit more focused and he tilts his head. Steve has been watching, Steve knows. No matter how subtle it is, he catches it, and it’s why he casually nudges Eddie’s side. Eddie glances at him and Steve raises his eyebrows.
“He a cute dude then?”
He’s ready for a lot of possible answers to the question. What he does not expect is for Eddie to immediately fluster, but then, it’s also probably something he should have thought about. Because, Robin did say that it’s hard to talk about things like this and Eddie had been uncomfortable in the kitchen too.
It’s just… it’s just shit, because rather than agree or comment on the dude like any guy would about a girl—like Steve had hoped—Eddie is immediately tense and laughing nervously, pink on his cheeks.
“What, man?” He fidgets, looking at his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Steve raises his eyebrows and nods his head towards the screen pointedly, all without taking his gaze off his friend.
“That guy. You think he’s hot, right?”
Eddie gives another nervous laugh, glancing at the TV and back at Steve in a way that is just too reminiscent of when he’d come out. Steve hates it, fucking loathes the hint of fear there. And so, he does what seemed to work so well back then.
“You saying you won’t tell me who wins the hotness contest? Come on, man.” He gently shoves his shoulder. “So not me, not him. You even got a type?”
Eddie’s cheeks are darkening as the seconds pass and he looks a little like a deer in the headlights, and it’s not right. Steve doesn’t want this to be bad, he wants to lighten the mood, make this okay. So, he looks away from Eddie to the screen.
He makes a point of scrutinising the guy before deciding, “Nah. I’m definitely better looking than him.”
Eddie smiles tightly, still looking so wound up that Steve wants to shake him.
“So just the dude’s clothes then?” Steve continues pushing. “Would have thought you’d be more into metal guys than a shirt and jeans combo.”
Eddie, by this point, is sinking down into the couch, his shoulders up near his ears and it’s just—this isn’t working.
“Eddie,” Steve says, changing tactics. He places what he hopes is a calming hand on the guy’s arm. “I’m not, like, making fun of you, dude.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Eddie gets out, sounding strangled.
“You find guys hot,” Steve answers. “So, like, find them hot!” He squeezes gently. “I’m not going to care, man.” He tries a friendly smile. “Well, other than being offended that I’m apparently not pretty enough.”
“Christ,” Eddie groans, covering his face with his hands. But he’s peeking through his fingers and smiling a little.
So, Steve grins and asks again, “So, that dude’s cute?”
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, but he chews his bottom lip and admits, “Yeah. He’s, fuck, he’s cute.”
Steve nods, satisfied with his deduction and getting Eddie to talk about it.
“Cool.”
He lets Eddie’s arm go and settles back down to watch the movie, but he feels Eddie’s gaze on him. He glances over, waiting to see if Eddie will say something.
Eventually, he does.
“That’s it?” Eddie asks.
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Why? You wanna talk more about which guys you’d like to get naked?”
“Holy shit, man,” Eddie blurts. He then laughs, sounding so damn incredulous. “You’re a fucking weird one, Harrington.”
Steve frowns. “For wanting my friends to be able to talk about people they think are hot?”
Eddie’s expression changes then, slackening into something softer, reminding him of the way Robin had looked at him in between painting her nails.
“For listening to any queer guy talk about dudes,” he says quietly. “For, fuck, I don’t know, talking about it as if I… as if it’s okay.”
“It is okay, Eddie,” he replies just as gently. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”
Eddie smiles again, he also sinks back into the cushions while pulling some hair over his face. It doesn’t hide his expression completely, but that’s good, because what Steve can see, what he cares about is that none of the tension and fear is there anymore.
“You’re so fucking weird, Harrington.”
But every single word is wrapped in affection and relief, so Steve grins in the face of it and counters, “That’s gotta be high praise coming from the so-called Freak.”
Eddie shoves him but Steve barely moves and continues to grin.
“Not a freak where it counts, Harrington. You’re still too damn jock.”
“Wait. So that’s the type then? A guy like you?”
“Ughhh,” Eddie groans, throwing back his head. “I am not doing this. I said the guy in the movie is cute. That’s it. That’s all you’re getting.”
And even though it’s only a small win, Steve feels the success of it settle deep. Maybe now, finally, Eddie won’t feel the need to hide who he likes from him.
Maybe, his friend can finally feel open about admitting when a guy he’d like to date walks past.
Steve honestly thought that the time on Eddie’s couch would be it. Problem solved. Only, it turns out, he’d underestimated how cagey Eddie could be about guys. And Steve isn’t an asshole, he’s not trying to push the metalhead or make him uncomfortable.
It’s just… it feels like Eddie is constantly hesitating to tell him. He talks to Robin, Steve catches half-started conversations or the tail end of teases. It’s as if there’s something about him that makes Eddie pull back.
The guy who will talk someone’s ear off about nerd shit or unapologetically bombard someone with metal music just… stops when it comes to guys. Guys around him.
“What more have I got to do, Rob?” he complains, driving Robin to Vickie’s house. He hits the wheel in frustration.
“You could give him time to come around?” Robin suggests.
“Which means there’s something about me that makes him need that, Rob. It means I’ve fucked up somewhere.”
“You haven’t fucked up anywhere.”
“I must have though, Rob. Don’t you get it? If he’s not comfortable around me, then I’m doing something or did something to make him feel it.” An idea forms and Steve’s heart abruptly falls. “Wait. Oh fuck, wait. He thought I was making fun of him, or going to the last time we talked about it. Shit, is this because of the fucking asshole I was in high school?”
Robin hits him hard in the arm. He flinches and glares. She glares back.
“Dingus. It is not about that. If he thought you were still like that, he’d have never come out to you.”
Steve feels a little assuaged by her words, but it’s still not enough. He frowns darkly at the road in front of them.
“There’s gotta be something I can do,” Steve mutters.
Robin sighs loudly, clearly realising he is not about to let this go.
“I don’t know, Steve. Maybe he’s not able to let his guard down before you’ve let yours down first.”
Steve frowns. “Huh?”
“Look,” she says, suddenly looking down at her hands, “with me, I’ve got as much to lose as him. We’re both queer, we can’t use it against each other and we wouldn’t. To him, maybe, you’re still too…”
She trails off, seeming to be struggling for the word, but Steve already knows it, Eddie had called him it.
“Too jock,” he whispers.
She scrunches her nose. “I mean, I wouldn’t have said that, but—”
“But, where it counts,” Steve interjects, “I’m too jock. Fuck. I don’t have anything to lose. That’s the problem.”
She gives a helpless little smile and Steve knows he’s reached the crux of the problem. It’s not about him, not really, it’s about something bigger. But how the hell is he going to tackle this?
It keeps him silent for the rest of the drive, and when he drops Robin off, she reaches over and hugs him tight.
“Eddie will realise you’re not like that,” Robin whispers. “It’s just hard. It takes time, but you’re not that guy Steve. He’ll know it soon.”
Steve hugs Robin back, but doesn’t reply to her statement, he just wishes her a good night and waits until she’s safely inside. Seconds later, he’s turning his car around and heading in the direction of Forest Hills.
If he doesn’t know how to fix it, then he’s going to have to go right to the problem and ask the guy himself.
Steve shows up at the trailer, not thinking it through—not thinking of anything other than fixing things with Eddie. He knocks on the door and when it opens, his eyes widen at seeing, not the metalhead he expected, but Eddie’s uncle.
“Uh,” Steve says. He quickly lowers his hand and smiles in a way he hopes is charming and polite. “Is Eddie here?”
Eddie’s uncle looks him up and down, eyes narrowed. “You the Harrington kid?”
“Yes, sir.”
He turns and looks back into the trailer.
“Eddie!” He hollers. “You expecting Harrington?”
“Sorry, sir,” Steve hurries to say, making the man look back at him. “He wasn’t expecting me. If it’s a bad time I can—”
Eddie’s uncle snorts, and a hint of a smile cracks through his serious features. “Ain’t complaining on a day Eddie has friends coming to visit him.”
Steve starts to smile, only for Eddie’s voice to be heard.
“Jesus, Wayne, make it sound like I’m a loser who’s never had someone show up to hang out.” Wayne steps back and Eddie’s head fills the space, he gives a lopsided grin. “Hey, Steve. ‘Sup?”
Steve can’t help flicking his gaze to Eddie’s uncle and back. Fresh tension fills his shoulders because he knows that Robin’s parents don’t know about her. Does Wayne know about Eddie? He can’t admit why he’s here if it’s something that would out Eddie.
Shit.
“Steve?” Eddie asks, concern colouring his features.
“Can we, um, talk?” Steve blurts, wincing a little after he says it. “You know, I, just uh, would like to talk. To you.”
Eddie’s frown deepens, but he slowly nods. “Yeah. Um. Wanna go for a drive or there’s my room?”
“Rather not drive,” Steve admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, sure, man.”
Eddie steps back to let him in and as soon as Steve enters, Eddie’s guiding him through the trailer, past Wayne and to the metalhead’s room. Once there, Eddie closes the door, he also quickly goes to his stereo and starts putting on a cassette.
Steve frowns as the sound of guitars fills the space. Eddie turns around and, catching his expression, explains, “You looked like you didn’t want anyone to hear what you wanted to talk about.” Eddie’s expression softens. “Upside Down, yeah?”
“Oh,” Steve says. “I mean, no. Not that.” Eddie’s back to frowning, his head tilted in confusion, and even though there’s music to distort their voices, Steve still has to know before he brings it up. He jerks his thumb in the direction of the other part of the trailer. “Your, um, Uncle. Does he like know. About, um.” He gestures at Eddie, lowers his voice even more and whispers, “About guys.”
The emotion on Eddie’s face is immediately wiped clean, he also becomes rigid. He takes a step back. Which makes absolutely no sense to Steve until:
“He does,” Eddie gets out. “But even if he… if he thinks anything, I’ll let him know you’re not… that it’s something else.” Eddie laughs harshly and looks away. “Tell him you wanted drugs, if you’d rather him think that.”
Steve’s eyes widen in immediate horrified understanding.
“No, Eddie! Fuck!” Steve steps closer, hands between them, wanting to stop that. “Shit, man. I just didn’t want to fucking out you if he didn’t know.”
Eddie’s gaze flicks back to him, wary and still so fucking unsure around him and Steve hates it so much.
He continues stepping closer and promises, “Dude, if your uncle thought we were coming in here to fuck, I don’t even care. I just…” Steve exhales heavily, “this is why I’m here. You just… fuck man, you still don’t trust me and I really want to fix it, Eddie.”
Eddie’s back to frowning, but he’s not as wary anymore, rather, he looks confused.
“I trust you,” Eddie murmurs.
“No, you don’t, man,” Steve replies sadly. “You thought I was about to get angry that we might look like we were hooking up.” He runs a hand through his hair. “And any time I try to mention guys so you can be, I don’t know, comfortable about it, you just get tenser. It’s like, no matter what I do, you think I’m going to use it against you.”
Eddie’s staring at his feet by the time Steve finishes—but he doesn’t look afraid like he’s done in the past, he just looks small. Steve realises he hates that look just as much.
He steps closer cautiously, not stopping until he can touch Eddie’s shoulder.
The metalhead stiffens, but Steve says quietly, “I just want to fix it, man. And maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s just shitty ass Hawkins, but fuck, Eds. You’re one of my best friends, I don’t want you to think you ever have to be worried about me.”
“I’m not afraid you’ll tell,” Eddie whispers. “I know you’d never out me or Robin. Fuck man,” Eddie laughs harshly. “I even know you’d be the first to throw a punch if someone was harassing me. You’re good, Steve. I know that about you.”
Steve stays quiet, just waiting, already knowing that there is a ‘but’ coming.
“It’s just,” Eddie continues, just as quietly, “the more I talk about guys around you, the more you’ll realise I like guys.”
Steve frowns, feeling very confused. “But, I already know you do?”
It draws a faint little laugh from Eddie. He finally looks up, seeming more tired than anything.
“Yeah, but Steve, it’s a theory, it’s not real.” He grimaces and looks away. “If I talk about it, I make it real.”
Steve tries, he really does, but— “I still don’t get it.”
Eddie groans and tilts back his head, looking at the ceiling. It’s only for a few seconds before he turns back to Steve. It’s at that moment Steve realises how close they are, Eddie seems to notice it too, but instead of stepping back, Eddie leans forward, right into his space. Steve automatically wants to step back, not because it’s a guy, but because personal space, but he stays where he is, because this seems important.
“I’m queer, Steve,” Eddie says. “I’m queer and if I talk about it, if I mention all the pretty guys and what makes me get all horny about them, then how long is it going to fucking take for you to get weird? For the straight guy friend I have to think; ‘oh shit, is he going to come onto me?’ And then how fucking long, Steve, is it going to be before you hate me?”
Eddie’s breathing heavily by the end, as if he’s had to force the words out of him—and Steve doesn’t think, he grabs Eddie and yanks him into a tight hug. Eddie’s breath catches, but Steve just keeps his arms locked around the metalhead. Eddie’s rigid for a few seconds, but eventually he sinks into the hug, holding Steve back.
“Eddie, man—”
“I don’t want that to happen, Steve,” Eddie says, voice so soft and timid. “I don’t… it doesn’t really matter about guys, okay?”
“Yes, it fucking does,” Steve argues. “You can talk about guys, and I’m not going to think that about you, dude. I’m not going to hate you either.” He pulls back and waits until Eddie finally looks at him. “So, just, find guys hot, okay, man? Find me hot for all I God damn care.” He smiles. “I mean, I try hard to make myself look good to girls, if it works on guys too, I’m scoring twice.”
He follows it with a dramatic wink.
“Christ, man,” Eddie whispers, choking on a laugh. “Your fucking ego.”
“It’s suffered a lot, actually,” Steve counters. “So, you need to start inflating it.” He gently pokes Eddie in the chest. “So, what’ll it take? Tighter tops? Ripped jeans? I need to steal your Hellfire shirt or—”
Eddie punches him in the chest, and Steve laughs—but then they’re both laughing and Eddie also drags him back into another incredibly tight hug.
“You steal my shit you’ll stretch it out,” Eddie grumbles, but his voice sounds choked.
Steve doesn’t call him on it, or the way Eddie’s burying his face in his shoulder. He just strokes his friend’s back gently, and he hopes, soothingly.
“I’ll still find a way to prove to you I’m hot,” Steve teases gently. “Just you wait.”
Eddie laughs again, but he doesn’t argue it. He also doesn’t let go.
Steve smiles and continues to hold the other boy against him, willing to stay here as long as his friend needs.
He also really hopes that they’ve finally managed to clear the air, that finally, his friend can believe that every aspect of who he is and who he likes will be accepted—and if he starts to look unsure, Steve now has the perfect way to prove it to him.
After all, he can’t have a problem with a queer guy if he’s actively trying to prove to him that he’s good-looking, can he?
It isn’t meant to become a regular thing.
Steve knew it was a possibility, but he’d really hoped it wouldn’t be the case—and yet, it quickly becomes the only way to get Eddie to chill out.
Whenever a guy alights Eddie’s interest and Steve catches it? The best and easiest way to break the tension is to compare himself to the guy—to make it obvious that he doesn’t care who Eddie finds hot in the situation; him, or the new dude.
“That your type?” he’d teased quietly when Eddie was looking at a new cassette jacket, lingering overlong on the bassist. “I need to grow out my hair and put on leather?”
Eddie had shoved him hard and muttered, “Shut up, man.”
Another time, they’d been at his pool and he’d walked out in just his swimshorts. He’d seen Eddie’s eyes widen and his gaze catch. It was just long enough, but when Eddie had swallowed hard and looked away, Steve had stood in front of him and struck a pose.
“So, it’s not the clothes that make the man, it’s the muscles? I need to take you to the local pool one afternoon so—”
He’d probably deserved Eddie tackling him into the water mid-sentence, but they’d both broke the surface laughing, so, it had totally been worth it.
And, well, then there was the time when they’d been hanging out and drinking. He’d recently been flirting with a girl at Family Video, and when he’d had nothing left to say about her, he’d asked Eddie about guys and if he had any crushes.
Eddie had focused on his bottle, mumbling indistinct words under his breath and winding himself up again—so Steve had rolled on his side.
They’d been laying on Eddie’s bed, and he’d lightly patted the guy on the stomach.
“Don’t worry,” he’d said. “No shame. Whoever your type is, it’s cool.” He’d then pointed at Eddie’s face. “And when I find out, I’ll soooo prove I’m prettier. Still fucking rude you think I’m ugly, dude. I’m a fucking beefcake. Or whatever.”
Eddie had groaned loudly, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. Steve had giggled and continued to pat the guy comfortingly, this time on the back.
It just, it becomes a thing. His way of lightening the mood. A running gag about proving to at least one of his friends that he’s attractive and still ‘has it’. It isn’t meant to be anything more than a way to loosen Eddie up.
And Eddie does seem okay with it.
He blushes, sure, and grumbles, and tries to hide his face—but he answers more frequently, even smiling timidly and nodding if Steve asks about a guy. It’s progress, it’s working. Eddie’s becoming more and more comfortable with him. And so, Steve doesn’t really think anything of it, not until they’re hanging out at his house with Robin.
When Eddie had made a quip about not even guys being enough to convince him to watch sports, he’d given one of his now common replies.
“Dude, you’re ruling out a whole group of guys ‘cause they play sport?”
“Damn right, Harrington.”
“So that’s the reason?” Eddie had rolled his eyes but Steve had leant forward. “That’s why you don’t think I’m hot, Eds? Shit, you’re gonna make me work hard for it. I’m going to have to steal your vest back.”
“Don’t you fucking dare go near my closet, Harrington.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll be too hot to handle?”
Eddie had thrown a pillow at him and he’d laughed and thrown it back. He’d only noticed somewhere in the middle that Robin had been looking at him oddly. That she kept looking at him strangely the whole afternoon, and not even his raised eyebrows would make her say anything.
Instead, he has to wait until their next shift together at Family Video to finally corner her (and her continual squinting eyes).
“Okay, what is it?”
“What’s what?” she asks, all wide-eyed and innocent.
Steve doesn’t buy it.
“The look. You keep giving me a look like I’m doing something weird. You’ve been like that since yesterday. Have I got like a massive zit or something? Did I start speaking another language without realising? Do I look possessed?” His eyes widen. “Fuck, please don’t tell me I’m looking possessed.”
“God, Dingus. No. You don’t look possessed or anything like that.”
“But I’m doing something weird?”
Robin bites her lip, as good as a confession. She also looks around the store before grabbing his arm and taking him to the counter. She lowers her voice and says, “I was just… surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?” He frowns. “Okay. About what?”
She chews her lip again. The gesture is a nervous one and it worries him for a whole different reason.
So, he waits as patiently as he can until she answers, “Why do you care so much about knowing Eddie’s type, Steve?”
His frown deepens, not having expected that.
“I mean, I don’t, not really. I’m just talking to him about stuff I’d talk to guys about. Just you know, his way, so he’s comfortable.”
“Okay, but Steve, he is comfortable with you.”
Steve’s perplexity grows. “I mean, yeah, but only ‘cause I break the ice. Like, he still doesn’t talk a whole lot about dudes.”
“Steve, he doesn’t talk a whole lot to me either. He probably talks to you more than me.” Steve blinks. “And,” Robin continues, “you aren’t just talking about guys you’re talking about you.”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“So,” she persists, “why do you care if Eddie finds you hot?”
Steve opens his mouth to speak only to stop, to realise he doesn’t have a real answer for that. Because, at first, he’d just wanted Eddie to relax, to know he could find him hot and he wouldn’t be offended. Eddie knows that now. Eddie has more than once checked him out. Steve knows that he’s good-looking to the metalhead even if Eddie has never actually admitted it. So why does it matter? Because it does matter, doesn’t it? He wants Eddie to say it—wants Eddie to admit it. Wants Eddie to… want it? Want him?
“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes, looking at Robin with wide-eyes. “Do I have a crush on him?”
Robin’s eyes go even wider than his.
“Do you?” She squeaks.
Steve stares at Robin, a slow creeping realisation coming over him as he thinks over everything—the need for Eddie to be comfortable changing to a need for Eddie to admit he’s attractive. The constant desire to touch Eddie in big and small ways. The way he always craves more time in the metalhead’s company, especially when Eddie’s relaxed and laughing and rambling at him.
It’s obvious. He can’t deny it.
And after a long moment, Steve nods his head. They both stand there staring at each other in stupefied silence until Robin breaks it.
“Are you okay, Steve?” She asks, touching him gently.
He looks down at her hand and then back to her face.
“I mean… fuck.” He rubs a hand through his hair. “Shit. I can’t believe this.”
“I know, Steve,” Robin says gently.
“Like, are you fucking kidding?” Steve whines, feeling the frustration burst out of him. “I’m striking out before I even realised I was trying to fucking hit!”
He scowls angrily and slumps against the counter. Robin continues to stare at him. It takes him a few moments to notice, but when he does, he turns to her with a frown.
“Rob?”
“Aren’t you freaking out?” She blurts.
“Huh?” His frown deepens. “What? Why?” And then, because it takes a moment. “Oh, because it’s a guy?”
“Yes! Because it’s a guy!” Robin bursts out. “What the hell, Steve?”
“What?” He demands. “I told you both it was fine! Why wouldn’t it be fine if it was me?”
Robin gapes at him, seemingly struck speechless. Steve just slumps more against the counter. Because, this sucks. He finally likes someone and they don’t like him back—again.
Although… he straightens a little. Robin never liked guys. Eddie does like guys. It means he’s still in with a chance. He just has to work out what guys Eddie likes.
And, he’s already on the way. Eddie is used to him asking by now, so he can totally find out under the radar. So, this time he’s going to ask, and he’s going to be serious about it. He’s also going to show the metalhead what a catch he can be.
He turns back to Robin, freshly enthused.
“Okay, Rob, you gotta help me. I need to find out how to make myself hotter to Eddie. I gotta find out if he’d be into me, if, you know, I fit his type.” He frowns. “Hey, do guys like flowers? Could I buy him them? Or is that specifically a girl thing?”
Robin shakes her head, still looking dumbfounded.
“I’ve finally lost it,” she murmurs. “It was nice knowing sanity. Maybe, I’ve been in a padded cell since Starcourt?”
“Robin,” Steve groans.
“I could get used to being delusional,” Robin muses. “Maybe—ow!” She rubs her arm where he pinched her, glaring. “Mean.”
“So are you,” he counters. “You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to be helping me.”
“I thought my best friend was straight.”
“Well, I thought so too.” He shrugs. “But apparently not. I like Eddie.”
He feels a little flutter in his chest after he says it. The mere thought of the other boy also makes him smile. And the expression on his face must be sappy enough because Robin finally smiles at him.
“God, Steve,” she mutters, but every word is laced with love. “I can’t believe you’re handling this so well.” She takes his hand and squeezes. “And I don’t think you’ll need too much help.” Her smile is coy, her gaze a little knowing. “I think Eddie is going to think he’s the luckiest boy in Hawkins.”
Steve’s not too sure he believes that, because Eddie has made it obvious from the start that he doesn’t like him like that.
But, then again, the metalhead’s dropped enough hints about what he does like, right? And there’s been the few times Eddie has checked him out?
Surely, with all of that, he can work out whether his friend would be up to going on a date with him? So instead of just making Eddie comfortable around him, he needs to see if Eddie can be into him too. Different objective but maybe the same plan?
After all, he’s already trying to find out how he can be hot to the guy… maybe he should use what he’s learned and put it into practice?
And if it works, he’ll be there and ready; the right type and the right guy to ask Eddie out.
Steve has always cared about his appearance. He got the nickname “The Hair” for a reason. He’s always been willing to go the extra mile to look good.
Going the extra mile for Eddie is a little more difficult. For starters, the guy still has no discernible type. Eddie likes metal guys, sure, but he also likes any guy in tight jeans. Steve can’t see any particular pattern, and Christ, but after working out he likes Eddie, he looks.
He must even get a little desperate, because when he asks for the third time in a day if Eddie thinks a guy is cute, his friend goes from embarrassed grumbling to outright puzzlement. The ‘what the fuck?’ painted clearly across his face.
It leaves Steve sulking for the rest of the afternoon. He just… he doesn’t want to make a move and have it blow up in his face. He likes Eddie, honest to God wants to hold his hand and date him and win him.
And so, desperate times call for desperate measures. Or rather, if he can’t be sure Eddie would want to go on a date with him, then he’s going to take him on one anyway and prove he can be a good date.
He knows how to woo a girl, he’s sure he can do it with Eddie too. Because the only complaint Eddie’s ever said was that he was too jock, so, he’s going to fix that.
Well, with a bit of help.
It’s why he shows up at Eddie’s trailer on a Friday night, knocking on the door impatiently. He knows Eddie is home, because he checked yesterday at Family Video. The guy doesn’t have any plans.
Steve’s still more nervous than he’d like to admit, but he’s done his hair, he’s got on cologne and he’s wearing the jeans Eddie has admired his ass in twice. He’s also got on the yellow shirt that he thinks Eddie likes.
Eddie opens the door with surprise and a cute little head tilt. His gaze also flickers, doing a there and gone review of his body before locking onto his face.
“Steve? What’re you doing here, man?”
“Get your shit together, Munson,” Steve says. “We’re going to the movies.”
Eddie’s eyebrows skyrocket. “We are?”
“Yup.” He pushes inside and Eddie doesn’t fight him. “So, hurry up.”
“Jeez, what’s the rush, dude? You need a second for a double-date or something?” He screws up his nose. “Because, friend though I might be, I draw the line at pretending to date a girl for you.”
Steve’s heart races, but he hopes like hell it doesn’t show.
“Only date I got tonight, Eds, is you.”
He glances at the other boy, seeing Eddie’s startled surprise. He also grabs his hair, pulling it in front of his face. Steve can still see a hint of pink and it bolsters his confidence.
“Telling me I’m the bottom of the barrel, Harrington?” Eddie asks. “Lot of charm you’ve got.” Steve opens his mouth because no, he didn’t fucking say that, but Eddie is already talking, “But, who am I to turn down movie tickets and popcorn bought by the King?” He brushes past Steve, almost bouncing as he heads to his room. “Let me get a jacket, Stevie.”
Steve frowns, still not happy that Eddie has missed that he picked the metalhead to go out with on Friday night—date night. But at least he’s given him the opportunity to buy everything for Eddie. He’d planned to, but now he shouldn’t have to fight him on it.
And, he’s also in position to instigate the next part of his plan.
He follows Eddie to his room, almost running into the metalhead as he gets one arm in his red and black checkered jacket. Eddie grins. “Missed me already?”
“Always, man,” Steve counters, seemingly throwing Eddie who blinks at him. Steve also takes the moment to look him up and down; band shirt, typical jeans and jacket combo. So Eddie. “You know how to look good for your date.”
Eddie’s gaze flickers—not over him but away, as if he doesn’t know what to do or think and doesn’t want to get caught. He follows it with a slightly awkward laugh, pulling his arm through the other sleeve.
“You think this is impressive?” Eddie says. “You should see me on an actual date.”
This is one, Steve thinks but manages to bite down on before he speaks.
This is a test, a trial. He needs to have Eddie see him as someone he could date. So, he smiles and leans into the doorframe, arms crossed.
“Why don’t you show me, Eds? Let me see what a lucky boy gets to have?”
“Uhh.” Eddie’s eyes are wide and his confusion is blatant—right until he looks at the floor, fingers tugging in his hair. “Yeah, well, you got me there,” he mutters. “Not sure what I’d wear on a date. Don’t really get a lot of opportunities.”
Steve straightens, immediately guilty along with frustrated on Eddie’s behalf.
“Eds-”
But Eddie’s head comes up and he smiles softly.
“No, no, do not pity the peasants, my liege.” He bows dramatically. “I am already honoured by such a friendly request.” He stands. “I shall even procure my own food and drink.”
He winks, and pulls out his wallet, waving it, but Steve frowns.
“No, man, I’m buying for you. Like you said.”
It once again seems to draw Eddie up short and he’s back to frowning again—to looking at him with that same puzzlement Steve’s been gaining for days, every time he’s pushed a little harder about who Eddie might like, if he’s someone Eddie might like.
This time, he doesn’t back down.
“But I actually need something before we go.”
His gaze darts over the room and he’s lucky enough to spot Eddie’s leather jacket over a chair. He steps past his friend, feeling Eddie’s gaze on him as he walks over to it. He grabs it, holding it out and asking, “Don’t mind do you, Eds?”
Eddie stares at him but doesn’t disagree, so, Steve pulls it on. He makes a point of sliding his palms down the arms, straightening the collar—really making sure it looks good.
Eddie’s gaze is thoroughly locked on him and he fights down a triumphant smirk. Instead, he slips his hands into the pocket of his jeans, trying to emulate the numerous metal dudes Eddie has admired.
He lets his eyes hood a little and asks, “Look good, Eds?”
But Eddie doesn’t look happy or comfortable or attracted. He looks like a deer in the headlights—and that, shit, is the opposite of what he wants.
He immediately drops the pose, removes his hands from his pockets.
“Eds—”
“I want to stop now, Steve,” Eddie says, quiet but firm.
His arms are around his waist and it’s too reminiscent of all the awkward fearful conversations they’ve had before.
“Eds—” he begins, taking a half-step forward.
“I trust you,” Eddie says lowly, but his voice is harsh and wrong. “So, I… fuck. I know you’re doing some fucking stupid Steve thing to prove some point because I stupidly mentioned dates.”
“Eddie—”
He takes another step but Eddie backs up, colliding with his door and hunching his shoulders, and Steve’s heart aches. He feels guilt and frustration build and burn inside him.
“But anyone else, anyone else,” Eddie hisses, scrubbing his face. “And this would be some bullshit taunt and I… Christ, Steve.” He shuts his eyes and slumps. “You win,” he whispers. “You win, and I’m sorry.”
“Eddie? What-?”
“You're hot, okay, Steve?” Eddie whispers and Steve feels a brief zing of happiness before— “You're hot in my jacket and in those jeans and I love that shirt on you.” He scrubs his face again, eyes now open but focused on his feet. “And… and you’re funny and sweet and so fucking kind. And fuck, but I like you. I like you as a fucking queer and I don’t have a type because you’re my type and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, don’t hate me, don’t—”
Steve crosses the space unthinkingly, he ignores Eddie’s cringe and cups the other boy’s face.
“Eds,” Steve whispers. “Eds, it’s okay. It’s—”
“I like you,” Eddie says, the words almost a whine. “Stop asking, please, Steve. Stop asking, stop talking about it because I can’t stop. I can’t hide and it’s ruining everything—”
Steve shuts Eddie up. He does it the way he’s been wanting to do since Robin switched on the lightbulb in his head. He kisses Eddie, muffling whatever words come next and making Eddie squeak.
But Eddie also grabs him, hands fisting in the jacket and dragging him closer. Steve doesn’t fight it, he presses Eddie against the door and kisses him.
They stay there for Steve doesn’t know how long; from harsh, desperate kisses to exploratory, slow making out. Just keeping the other near and refusing to let go or part for longer than a gasp—but when neither of them can go any longer without a decent breath, their lips separate but they still stay close.
Eddie tucks his face into Steve’s neck and Steve presses his nose into Eddie’s tangled mess of hair; smelling cigarettes and cheap shampoo.
“Steve?” Eddie asks, his timid voice breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t understand what just happened.”
“Oh,” Steve murmurs, because he did spring this a lot more unexpectedly than he’d planned. “Right.” He clears his throat. “Well, it turns out, I wanted to figure out your type not just to make you comfortable but, um, because I wanted to be your type.”
Eddie’s grip on the jacket tightens and he lifts his head, turning it to meet Steve’s gaze with wide, shocked and gorgeous doe eyes. Steve can’t resist reaching up and brushing some hair from his face.
“So,” Steve continues, smiling at the other boy, “come out on a date with me, Eds? Because I kind of like you.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers. “Holy shit,” he repeats, getting louder and more ecstatic. “Fuck yes!!”
Steve doesn’t have a chance to react before Eddie’s spinning them. He almost trips, they nearly collide with the bed, and he has to grip onto Eddie for balance. They eventually end up in the middle of Eddie’s room, their foreheads pressed together with Eddie beaming like he’s on top of the world—not a hint of fear, wariness or uncertainty on his face.
And Steve loves it—loves the way this boy, his boy looks.
“You really like me, Stevie?” Eddie asks, full of giddy excitement.
“Yeah,” Steve says, not even trying to hide how soft his voice goes or how sappy his smile becomes. “So, go on a date with me, Eds?”
Eddie beams, his cheeks flushing pink but his eyes so bright.
“Oh, you got a date, Harrington,” he teases. “But, where’s the charm? Where’s the Harrington experience? You show up with nothing. Did you even get me flowers?”
And it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it, that he’s being so completely dramatically Eddie… but, well…
“They’re in the car?” He offers sheepishly.
Eddie’s smile disappears. He blinks, seemingly taking a few moments to comprehend him.
“Wait,” he says. “Really? Are you serious?”
“Yes?” Steve answers warily.
But Eddie abruptly laughs.
“Fuck yeah!”
He pulls back to fist pump. Only to dive in, kiss Steve’s cheek with a loud smack of lips and grab his wrist. He starts dragging him out of the trailer, already rambling about what kind they are, what he wants to eat and what they’re going to see.
Steve follows along, watching the whole thing with a mixture of confusion and pure, overwhelming fondness.
And while this isn’t something he would have expected even a few weeks ago—that of all the people in Hawkins he’s fallen for it’s Eddie “The Freak” Munson, he doesn’t regret it.
Because like a lot of things in his life lately, just because he doesn’t anticipate it, just because it’s different, it doesn’t mean he would want it any other way.