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Ten days after Vecna, what remains of the old Munsons’ trailer is finally no longer precariously balanced on the edge of a giant crack in the ground.
It was Steve who paid one of the construction crews that were currently all over Hawkins, dealing with the fallout of the cracks, to pull it off with one of their crane trucks. He was more than happy to handle it. The unexpected upside of his parents deciding to stay away from the wreck that was post-Vecna-earthquake military-infested Hawkins was them dumping a large sum of money into Steve’s account, strictly instructing him over the phone to take care of any repairs necessary so their house would be in an appropriate state by the time they come back.
The Harrington house was actually fully intact. But they didn’t need to know that. So Steve used the money for what he actually wanted to do. Volunteering took up most of his time this week; Family Video technically remained open, but with the ongoing cleanup chaos not that many people were in a mood for movies, so management decided to reduce opening hours and only keep one person per shift in the meantime. Each day of Steve’s began with a trip to the Hawkins High gym turned temporary shelter, packed full of people who lost their homes, picking up a list of items that donations were lacking, then driving to the store and stuffing his car full of diapers and toothpaste and warm socks and instant coffee to bring back.
And retrieving the Munsons’ trailer… It’s the least Steve could do for the guy who went into literal hell with them and barely made it out. Even if what he did was utterly stupid and borderline suicidal. Steve also does it for Wayne Munson, whose unwillingness to leave his nephew’s side the three whole days Eddie was unconscious and fighting for his life was something Steve watched with the same bittersweetness he always felt towards Joyce Byers or Claudia Henderson.
The trailer itself is obviously unsalvageable; it’s a miracle it didn’t snap in two like the goddamn Titanic in the process of being hoisted back onto even ground. But that wasn’t the point. In exchange for Eddie signing his NDA papers, the government people provided Munsons with a shiny new trailer to live in, on the other side of Forest Hills, farther away from the cracks. The murder charges were officially dropped as everything got pinned (somewhat close to truth) on serial killer Henry Creel.
So the point was to be able to safely loot all of the stuff inside the old trailer, things that held more value to Eddie and Wayne than their money’s worth. And despite Wayne Munson’s initial insistence that it was completely unnecessary, that all that mattered was that his nephew was alive and safe from getting arrested, the looks he keeps giving Steve as he starts retrieving various items scattered around the trailer, starting with a box of Eddie’s childhood pictures, are full of immense gratitude.
Wayne keeps stressing that Steve’s already done more than enough, that he can handle all the packing himself, but Steve insists on staying and helping, heading over to Eddie’s room and methodically boxing up the frankly impressive amount of books and magazines and records and hand-painted figurines the guy owns.
After about an hour, Robin bikes over after her own volunteering shift at the soup kitchen and joins him. The packing goes considerably quicker with two sets of hands.
Steve’s doing his best to keep his mind blank, to put items away without really looking at them because it feels undeniably awkward to be going through their new friend’s things. Like they are snooping, even if they’re honestly just helping. It’s obvious that Robin’s feeling the same way, and so they mostly work in silence, besides an occasional request to pass the packing tape or help unstuck a broken drawer.
This unspoken agreement lasts until Steve trips on the edge of the carpet, and the magazines he’s been carrying from the bedside drawer are sent flying, scattered all over the floor. He curses and bends down to pick them up; and then he freezes, realizing that Road & Track was only a single issue on top of that pile, and the rest of it is… very much not car-related.
He looks up at Robin, who’s already turned to see what’s caused the whole commotion, and her eyes look as big as his own must be.
For a long moment, they both stay frozen. What finally gets Steve out of his ear-reddening stupor is the sound of something clattering to the floor from the living room, reminding him of the presence of Eddie’s uncle and the painfully short time it could take him to reach the bedroom and see all this.
Cheeks feeling like they’re on fire, Steve starts frantically putting the stack back together, trying very hard to keep his gaze unfocused because… well, shit. Finding someone’s porn stash is already as awkward as it gets. Finding someone’s porn stash that also accidentally outs them is objectively worse.
At least the kids are not here helping, thank god; Dustin would absolutely be here if it weren’t for his injured foot and Claudia’s insistence on him resting. This is absolutely not the conversation Steve would be looking forward to.
Steve’s agitated heartbeat only slows down when the stack is put back together, the Road & Track issue once again safely on top.
“Uh…” Steve glances at Robin again, who’s now kneeling at his side, her mouth hanging open. He chuckles, because it’s so goddamn ridiculous, for something so mundane to give him an honest-to-god adrenaline rush, after everything.
Steve looks over his shoulder at the door and then back to Robin, keeping his voice low as he speaks. “I’m guessing all of this isn’t about Eddie thinking of a career in naked modeling and looking for inspiration.”
“No shit, dingus.” Robin huffs out a quiet laugh at his joke, and for a moment they both sit on the floor, shaking in silent nervous laughter with their fists pressed against their mouths. Steve’s mind is reeling, mostly around the fact that while the discovery was absolutely mortifying, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Shit. Should I, like… pack these or trash them?” Steve glances over his shoulder again and lowers his voice further, down to a whisper. “Like, what if his uncle decides to unbox his stuff and finds these? We don’t know if…”
He trails off, but Robin nods in understanding. If Wayne knows. If he’d be fine with it. If this wouldn’t ruin Eddie’s seemingly great and loving relationship with his uncle.
“I mean…” Robin glances at the door too, worry in her eyes. “He obviously loves Eddie, but with this… You just never know. I still don’t know about my own parents, and they aren’t even religious. And… Steve, you saw him praying by Eddie’s bedside.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, feeling sadness well up in his chest. He really doesn’t need an explanation on how parents’ love could be conditional.
After a moment’s thinking and chewing on her lip, Robin makes a determined lunge towards her backpack and unzips it.
“Just to be safe,” she says, wrapping the entire stack of zines in a plastic bag before shoving it into the backpack, “I’m gonna hold onto these until Eddie’s discharged.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as he watches her.
“You sure? Maybe I should take them. What if like, your parents accidentally come across them?”
“And what, assume I’m interested in men? The tragedy.” Robin scoffs, grinning as she tugs the zipper back closed. “Steve, I know for a fact my parents own adult tapes. Frankly, it was a rather traumatizing discovery for the twelve-year-old me, and the last time I ever had the urge to snoop for hidden Christmas presents. Anyway, point is, I’m pretty sure they aren’t gonna care if they think their grown-ass daughter looks at pictures of scantily clad guys.”
Steve nods in agreement.
“Right, okay then,” he says, getting up. “We better keep working. I’m still not convinced this roof isn’t gonna cave in at any moment.” With that, he begins shoving piles of Eddie’s clothes into large trashbags. Not to trash them, obviously; they’re just running out of empty boxes.
After a few minutes of working in silence, Steve feels Robin’s gaze on the side of his face and looks up.
“What?”
“Just…” Robin sighs. “I just gotta ask, for Eddie’s sake. You’re not going to be weird about this, right?”
Steve blinks.
“Why, was I weird about… you?”
He realizes immediately he failed to keep his voice casual, the hurt and disbelief seeping into his tone and making Robin rush to his side with a guilty wince.
“Dingus, I didn’t mean it like that. But I’m a girl, and it’s… different.”
And it is, Steve can’t disagree. But he’s not ready to discuss the complicated array of thoughts and feelings about how different it is, not until he’s got them sorted for himself. Why confirming that Eddie’s queer is somehow more significant than when he learned about Robin. So he just shrugs and gets back to packing a myriad of identical black T-shirts, likely adorned with varying band logos but it’s hard to tell when they’re all inside out.
“Nothing’s changed,” Steve says firmly. “If you ever see me give Eddie shit, it would be only for not listening to me and trying to play hero. I’m still mad at him for that.” He tries to keep his tone light and humorous, but it trembles at the few last words.
If they took even a minute longer with Vecna… If the radio broke, if they didn’t hear Dustin’s anguished calls for help and rush over immediately, if they couldn’t stop the massive bleeding, if they didn’t make it to the gate before it closed… If the outside wasn’t already swarming with government people in firefighter disguises, ready to rush a known murder suspect to the hospital, no questions asked. So many close shaves.
Robin snaps him out of it, rubbing his shoulder, giving him a warm, comforting smile before she grabs the first box to carry into Wayne Munson’s truck.
***
Back home that evening, Steve thinks a lot. Not about the magazines, not really; his mind gets more drawn towards slightly earlier memories, of the Upside Down and slightly before that. Not the painful, terrifying ones, but everything in between. Brief conversations, smiles, looks, big boy, now all taking a somewhat clearer shape, like twisting an unfocused kaleidoscope. The vest, thrown in his face, in a moment of what Steve then assumed really was just for his modesty, but now is starting to wonder if there was another issue with him being shirtless there. For Eddie, specifically. How Eddie kept averting his eyes and reached for a cigarette when Steve took off his sweater in the boat, before they all ended up in the Upside Down.
The vest is still on his bathroom floor; Steve’s been meaning to clean it for a while now, but wasn’t sure if it could be just tossed in the washer, with all the hand-sawn patches and pins. So he soaks it in the bathtub, adding a good amount of detergent and letting it sit there for a while, until the water turns almost black, then grabs a brush and starts scrubbing.
He scrubs at the dried blood and dirt and god knows what else, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks.
***
The next morning, Steve and Robin both go to visit Eddie and Max at the hospital.
Max’s sight could thankfully be partially saved, even if it was just on one eye, and she would need glasses to see clearly. She’s in good spirits, more than ready to get the hell out of there, casts and all.
Eddie however is still very weak, unable to stay awake for too long under however many meds he’s on; but when he is awake, he’s relatively lucid, and smiling, and making jokes, even though his words are slightly slurred; and color finally returns to his cheeks after many days of deadly paleness. His wounds are all stitched up, skin grafts applied to a few nastiest ones on his side; the doctor says they’re healing well, he’s gonna have scars, that’s unavoidable, but it looks like eventually he’s gonna be just fine.
They all made it. Against all odds.
Before they leave, Steve reaches to places his hand on top of Eddie’s and squeezes gently, lingering for a moment as he catches the boy’s completely bewildered gaze, fixated on their joined hands. Steve smiles casually, his own heart doing something complicated, pats Eddie’s hand twice, promises to see him again in a few days and retreats, ignoring Robin’s raised eyebrow as he walks past her through the door.
***
A couple of days later, after driving Max back home and ensuring she’s all set (meaning her mom’s actually consistently sober and seems committed to taking care of her daughter; not that Steve trusts her completely, he’ll be checking in regularly), Steve returns to the hospital. It’s way past visiting hours, but he easily bribes his way inside past the duty nurse Judy with a box of her favorite cupcakes and his most charming smile that makes her giggle and blush.
He didn’t know if Eddie would be awake, so he’s glad when he finds the guy’s nose buried in a book, the cover so worn Steve can’t make out the title. Eddie perks up when Steve gently knocks on the doorframe before entering.
“You’re gonna ruin your eyes like that, you know,” Steve comments on the fact that the overhead lights are off, and Eddie’s trying to read in the faint glow of the night light behind his bed.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mother,” Eddie responds with a good-humored eyeroll and then gives Steve a somewhat nervous smile as he approaches.
The reason for it becomes apparent after a bit of small talk about Eddie’s state of health and Max’s earlier discharge while Eddie devours a cup of chocolate pudding Steve’s smuggled in.
“So my uncle came by this morning,” Eddie says, his face and tone unreadable. “Told me about Operation: Save Munsons’ Shit. How come you didn’t mention this?”
Steve grins, shaking his head.
“This was supposed to be a surprise for when you go home. His idea, mind you. Funny how he cracked first.”
Eddie tilts his head.
“He told me it was your idea.”
“No, I mean, keeping it a surprise. Saving your shit was Dustin’s idea, actually. After we figured the trailer’s too risky to enter, I mean, that thing was one gust of wind away from plummeting into the abyss. He was immediately like, could a crane do the job and move it to a safe spot? Kid’s smart as hell, it was a brilliant idea. I just handled the… execution, so to speak.”
Eddie’s silent for a long moment, spoon uselessly scraping at the bottom of the now empty pudding cup.
“Guess I’ll add this to the list of things I’ll probably never be able to thank you enough for, Steve. Goes right under dragging my near-corpse out of hell.”
“How about you promise never to get torn apart by demobats again, and we’re even?”
Eddie glances up at him briefly, the corners of his lips lifting in a shy smile.
“Okay. Deal.” He pauses. “Seriously though, thanks, Steve. I know it’s just stuff, but… the acoustic, it belonged to my mom, so…”
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “I get it. It’s not just stuff, it’s your life, memories. That’s why I wanted to help.”
“Thanks,” Eddie says again. Then, clearing his throat, “Ahem. Wayne mentioned that you and Birdie helped with the packing?”
Ah.
“Uh… Yeah,” Steve replies, carefully keeping his voice casual. “The rain from a crack in the roof ruined some of your posters, but otherwise, I think we managed to get everything from your room.”
“Everything,” Eddie deadpans, his cheeks filling with color. Steve meets his gaze head on.
“Yeah.”
Eddie fidgets with the empty cup in his hands. He chews on his lip, glances back to Steve, then darts his gaze up to the ceiling, over to the switched off TV, the window, then back to the empty cup. Taps his finger against the side of it.
It’s painfully obvious what he’s not asking about, and Steve can’t handle the awkwardness anymore.
“Okay, look, if this is about the… bedside drawer stuff,” he lowers his voice to say, Eddie’s wide panicked eyes on him confirming his hunch. “It’s fine. Like, seriously. I’m cool with it and Robin’s… Robin’s cool, too.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie mutters, collapsing back against the pillows and staring at the ceiling. “I’m good if those bats feel like coming back to finish the job right now.”
Steve frowns and swats at Eddie’s shoulder, the one he knows for a fact bears no bite marks.
“Hey!”
“Ouch!”
“Don’t even joke about it, what the fuck, man? I told you, it’s fine! Robin’s stashed it all at her place until… well, until you come home.”
“What the fuck,” Eddie shakes his head, voice strangely high, almost hysterical. “Why would she do that?!”
“Uh. ‘Cos you probably wouldn’t be thrilled with your uncle coming across them if he unpacked your stuff, and she’s a girl so it’s a safe option if anyone finds them in her room, so…”
Eddie groans, covers his face with his hands, and starts shaking. It takes a few worrying seconds for Steve to realize that he’s actually laughing, silently at first, then his chuckles growing louder, until he finally shows his red grinning face from behind his palms, wiping at his eyes in the process.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. You,” he points to Steve, “and lady Buckley found a bunch of gay porn in my room, and decided to hide it from my uncle.”
As Steve nods, staring in bewilderment, another series of giggles overtakes Eddie.
“Oh my god. Oh fuck,” he wheezes, grasping at his midsection. “You’re killing me, Harrington, this is so not good for my stitches.” Eddie takes a few deep breaths, exhaling through his mouth, and wipes his eyes again. “Oh, what the fuck, man. Wayne wouldn’t give me shit for those. He knows. Has known since I was sixteen.”
“Oh.” Steve smiles, feeling his fondness for Eddie’s uncle grow even bigger. “That’s good. We just… we couldn’t be sure.”
“So you decided to protect my honor.” Eddie dramatically presses a hand to his chest. “My knights in shining armor. Well, a knight and a lady.” Eddie finally looks up at him, something vulnerable in his eyes despite the joking tone.
Steve holds his gaze, still smiling at him.
“Girls can be knights, too. Don’t be sexist, Eddie,” he says, thinking of how Robin would definitely prefer a suit of armor over a dress.
Eddie barks out another laugh, shaking his head and muttering something about the Munson doctrine under his breath.
“Still, it’s… shit, it’s goddamn nice, what you tried to do,” he says, his voice softening. “Thank you. Even if it’s fucking humiliating, and can we please never ever talk about this again?”
Wordlessly, Steve holds up a pinky. Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes before looping his own around it, and they shake on it, and change the subject.
***
Afterwards, Steve drives to the new Munson trailer and drops off the clean (or mostly clean, some stains now very faint but stubbornly refused to come out fully) battle vest he was planning to give back to Eddie at the hospital. Let there be at least one surprise left for Eddie’s homecoming.
The room is still filled with stacked boxes and bags of clothes in the corner, so it looks like Eddie’s uncle decided to leave it up to Eddie to unpack. Only the bed is ready, neatly made with fresh sheets that will soon undoubtedly be in the same messy tangled state they were in his old bedroom. Steve chuckles at that.
He hangs the vest up on the back of a chair, right across from the room entrance, so it would likely be the first thing Eddie’s eyes fall upon. He smooths out the vest collar, straightens a few crooked pins. He imagines Eddie’s sunshine of a smile when he discovers that his iconic item of clothing was returned to him.
He eats a bowl of pasta Wayne insists on heating up for him, even though he’s already had dinner himself. Then, he goes to check on Max, who is very happy to see him, judging by the number of insults she throws his way within a five-minute inquiry about sticking to her meds and eye exercises.
After that, Steve drives back home, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks about a set of dimples around a smile that belongs to no girl.
***
Steve and Robin are alone in a locker room turned into storage, sorting through boxes of donations when he broaches the subject.
“Hey, you know when we, um. When we were dealing with the whole Vecna issue, uh… I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure Eddie was flirting with me.”
Robin gives him an unreadable look, finished folding a sweater, puts it in a box marked “L” for size.
“I’ve been wondering if you were gonna bring that up.”
“So I’m right? You noticed too?” Steve perks up. “Is that why you asked if I’d be weird about Eddie?”
“Look,” she sighs, “I didn’t think you’d be… a jerk about it, or anything. I know you wouldn’t. I just know what it’s like, being in this situation. Crushes on straight people, and all that.”
Steve bites on a grin.
“You think Eddie’s got a crush on me?”
“Aha, and there it is!” Robin circles a finger in front of him. “That smug face, right there. You are going to be weird about this!”
“I won’t, I’m not! I’m just… I’ve been thinking about it.”
They are both silent for a moment, just working. Steve’s the first one to lose patience.
“Jesus, Robbie, I can hear cogs turning in your head.”
“I think—” She cuts herself off, pauses, clearly making an effort to compose herself. “I think I should let you talk. I’ll just ask questions. You said you’ve been thinking about it, why?”
“Because… I don’t know.” He hesitates. “Maybe because it’s nice to have someone finally interested in me? Did you never get that? Like, guys must have had crushes on you in school, right? You’re pretty.”
Robin chuckles and rolls her eyes, but her smile at the compliment stays.
“Tim Hammond. Eighth grade. Got me flowers for Valentine’s day.”
“And it wasn’t… flattering?”
“No, dingus, it was painfully awkward. I actually considered going out with him, you know, just for appearances. Decided against it, thank god.”
“Oh.”
“And then there was you. I’m glad it worked out, that we’re friends, but… It sucked even worse, with you.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Steve thinks about how much better of a person Robin is than he ever was. How many girls’ advances he turned down over the years, just because he didn’t find them attractive. Based on looks only, never bothering to even try and get to know the person behind the face. No, he was never cruel about it; thank the small mercies, at least he was always a gentleman with girls. But afterwards, he never looked back, never dwelled on it. Maybe because he’d never experienced rejection himself, not until Nancy dumped him. God, he was such a shallow person.
“So… completely hypothetical scenario. A guy asks you out. What do you do?” Robin asks, as if reading his mind.
“Just any guy?” Steve clarifies. “Or, um.”
“Eddie?”
Steve chews on his lip. He’s picturing it, how Eddie would probably be all shy and nervous about it, and yet bold and daring at the same time. How he’d blush and get all up in Steve’s space, lean towards him with that flirty smile, dimples and all, brush the hair out of Steve’s eyes. ‘Would you like to go out with me, big boy?’
“Look, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Robin says, misinterpreting his stunned silence, “I wouldn’t. It’s very unlikely. Maybe he’ll flirt with you, at most, but if it’s not weird for you and you find it… flattering, then… it’s not an issue, right? I don’t think he’ll even go that far. I think it was just the Upside Down, the adrenaline, near-death situation, makes one a bit reckless. You know? Either way, I know you’ll turn him down gently, it will be fine, Steve. Crushes fade, right? You and I are friends. You and Eddie will be, too.”
Steve feels all kinds of things about the idea, none of them good. He imagines stepping back with a guilty smile, Eddie’s face falling as Steve says ‘Sorry, I can’t, because—’
Because. Because why, exactly? Right, because Eddie’s not a girl. Is that important? It’s supposed to be important.
Or not?
“Dingus.” Robin reaches for his arm, squeezes. “You’re awfully quiet.” She taps her finger on his forehead. “What’s going on up there?”
“What if I don’t,” Steve finds himself muttering. Upon Robin’s questioning look, he clears his throat and repeats, louder. “What if I don’t. Turn him down, I mean. Hypothetically. What if… what if I go on a date with him. Is that selfish?”
Robin’s watching him with her piercing, attentive eyes.
“Huh. Okaaay…” She chews on her lip. “Why do you think it’s selfish?”
“Because… Because I don’t know if… If I like the guy, or just, I don’t know… the idea of it. Eddie liking me. The attention. ‘Cause if that’s what it is… I’d be an ass to give him false hope. Like, if I’m just flattered that someone’s interested in me, and I didn’t even need to dress up and get them flowers. He saw me at my lowest, Robs, covered in grime and blood, my hair a complete disaster, and… and looked at me like I was the coolest guy he’d ever seen, and told me I was metal.”
He hears Robin take a deep breath, then slowly exhale it with a low whistle.
“Well. First, I would argue about you being at your lowest. I’m sure Eddie would, too. I don’t know him very well, but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d care about someone’s clothes or hair looking perfect. Or flowers, for that matter. He likes all that fantasy stuff about brave heroes on epic adventures, and Steve, you were literally killing monsters with your bare hands. I can see why he was impressed. Plus,” she nudges him playfully, grinning, “I suppose taking off your shirt wasn’t an insignificant factor.”
Steve flushes, remembering the intense look Eddie gave him before throwing his own vest at him. For modesty. Right.
“Second,” Robin’s voice turns gentler and more serious, too. “Just the fact that you’re seriously thinking this through makes you anything but selfish. Can I ask you something? No pressure, you don’t need to answer.”
“Sure,” Steve nods. He doesn’t see what she could ask that he wouldn’t want to answer. Unless she implies he might not know the answer himself.
There’s a sudden sound of footsteps just outside, and Robin waits a minute for them to recede. They’re still alone, but she lowers her voice anyway.
“Is this the first time you’ve thought about this? Dating another guy.”
That one’s easy.
“Yes. I mean… Never really been faced with the option. If there were queer guys at school that I talked to, I wouldn’t know.”
“What about… kissing a guy?”
That one takes Steve a minute to answer. Immediately, he thinks about Eddie’s lips. They look so soft; it would probably feel nice to kiss them. He feels butterflies in his stomach at the idea. Is it really just because he’s been striking out with girls lately? Because he misses kissing, misses dating someone? Is he really that desperate?
There has been a time when he faced a similar predicament. He was much younger, hadn’t ever dated a girl, hadn’t even had his first kiss, and neither had Tommy. When they were hanging out one summer night, drunk after trying beer for the first time in their lives. Steve glanced over and wondered, out loud, what it would be like to kiss someone. He caught Tommy looking, too, curious if his best friend had something similar on his mind as Steve; but Tommy made some silly joke about trying with a peach, they laughed, and then never acknowledged it, never spoke of it again.
In that moment, he remembers very clearly, he wouldn’t have minded satisfying his curiosity by having Tommy’s lips on his. But high school soon began, Tommy was now kissing Carol, and Steve himself finally kissed pretty blonde Martha Jameson under the bleachers, kicking off his playboy career.
Kissing girls was wonderful. Amazing. Their mouths were soft and they smelled like flowery perfume and sighed oh so sweetly when he moved his lips just right. And if sometimes, he wondered whether kissing boys was any different… well. It was nothing, he thought back then.
“I mean, I guess,” Steve finally responds. “I just thought… Maybe I was just curious. Everybody wonders about weird stuff sometimes, right? Like I wondered what it feels like to walk on the Moon, too, doesn’t make me an astronaut.”
Robin thinks about his answer, and Steve can see that she’s choosing her words carefully.
“True. I’m not saying it’s impossible, it’s just that… That wasn’t my experience. Being curious about boys.”
“But it’s not like I ever liked a guy. Never had a crush on one. And I had so many crushes on girls. If I… If I was a little queer, shouldn’t that have happened by now, at least once? Statistically?”
“I don’t think statistics have anything to do with… how we feel.” Robin pauses, fiddling with a T-shirt in her hands. “I’m thinking of auntie Helen, my mom’s sister. Didn’t date in high school or even college. She says she never knew what it’s like to be in love until she met her husband. She was almost 30 then, doing her microbiology PhD. Grandma always jokes about how she had her eyes glued to a microscope, no wonder she never saw the guys around her, but I don’t know. Maybe she was too focused on studying, or maybe it really was that there was just one special person in the whole world that caught her attention. It’s kind of romantic.”
Steve smiles, agreeing with her.
“So… you’re saying my eyes were just glued to girls?”
“It was just an example. I’m saying you don’t need to stress about having all the answers immediately, or finding a label that fits. Eddie’s coming home tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah,” Steve says with a smile.
Everyone’s excited for it. The kids have been planning a surprise party. Dustin spent all his pocket money on a whole mountain of Eddie’s favorite snacks. Will has been working on a D&D thing, something they call a one-shot. Mike and Lucas dug into Eddie’s tapes to make a mixtape for the party.
Max can’t do much with her arm and leg still in casts, but she’s been doing a great job at bossing everyone around while they were decorating the living room with a giant ‘Welcome home Eddie’ banner and dozens of red balloons (Steve was somewhat surprised Eddie’s favorite color is not, in fact, black).
Wayne got him the most practical gift, a black cane that Eddie might need for a while to move around; the bats damaged a muscle in his thigh pretty badly. El’s been decorating it, meticulously painting little white skulls all over it. (It’s going to look bitchin’, she assured everyone. Eddie’s definitely going to love it.)
“Well, now that he’ll be home,” Robin says, interrupting his thoughts, “you can spend more time with him. Get to know him. Figure out what you feel. Test the waters, flirt a little. Just be prepared he might freak out when you do.”
Steve grins at her teasingly. “What, like you with Vickie?”
Robin groans. “I knew you were gonna bring it up. I don’t know if she’s flirting or just being nice!”
“She’s flirting! It’s so obvious! And also probably freaking out. I swear, you two are gonna grow old before one of you makes a move.”
“Hopefully not. But I need to be sure.”
Steve doesn’t press further. He is almost sure, in the way the girl looks at Robin, but he’s also pretty biased, wanting his best friend to be happy. So he just nods, grabbing another sweater from the box and checking the size label.
“We should really get moving, or we’ll be here all day. There’s like ten more boxes.”
He knows Robin understands everything he doesn’t say; he’s grateful they talked, he’s got a lot on his mind, he needs some quiet to think. They keep working for another hour, wordless, only exchanging occasional glances and smiles.
***
The trailer, packed full of people like sardines, explodes into chaos the moment Eddie limps through the door in dark gray sweatpants and a dark hoodie, with his uncle grinning behind him. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, Wayne was successful at keeping the party secret from him until he brought him from the hospital.
Hugs are exchanged, some tears are shed. Eddie looks absolutely thrilled to see everyone welcome him home, even more so when he’s introduced to Will and shown the dining table covered in papers, dice and figurines. Will actually looks nervous when he asks Eddie if he wouldn’t mind playing his campaign later today, to which Eddie bows down, holding onto a chair for support, and says, “It would be my absolute honor, o Will the Wise.” The boy blushes and beams at Eddie, and just like that, the Eddie Munson fanclub has acquired its newest member.
Two members, actually, because when El and Wayne present him with the skull-painted cane, Eddie (predictably) loves it so much he showers El with compliments on her work and then asks her if she’d like to paint miniatures together sometime. She excitedly agrees.
Steve’s not surprised in the least. Now that he’s become acquainted with Eddie’s very likable personality, he sees why Dustin was so obsessed with him. It’s so strange, how until recently Steve barely acknowledged the guy’s existence despite them spending hours within the same building for years.
They don’t really get a chance to chat one on one; Eddie’s pretty much surrounded by other people at all times. But Steve doesn’t mind, there will be time for that. He does, however, speak up when Mike, the ever tactful one, decides to comment on Eddie’s facial hair, which has been consistently growing throughout his hospital stay.
“You look so weird with a beard, like ten years older,” Mike says.
“Ouch,” Eddie deadpans. “Thanks, Wheeler, glad to know I look thirty now.” He rubs at his cheek. “Yeah, I gotta take care of this later, my room had a shower but I didn’t think to ask Wayne to bring a razor. I don’t know if they’re even allowed in, to be honest.”
“Don’t listen to Mike,” Steve intervenes, and Eddie’s eyes immediately snap to him. “He’s just pissed he’s fifteen and that upper lip is still smooth as a baby’s.”
Mike glares at him, everyone giggles and then starts arguing about whether facial hair is cool or not. Taking advantage of the chaos, Steve steps a little closer to Eddie.
“I think you’re totally pulling off the rugged look,” he says with a smile; he wasn’t even planning on flirting, but it comes naturally. To weaponize his gaze, to slowly drag it up from Eddie’s chin and back up to his eyes, widened in surprise. “It suits you,” he adds.
Eddie looks like he doesn’t know what to do with his face. His eyebrows twitch in a silent question. He opens his mouth, closes it, then glances away, biting on his lip just as the corners of it start lifting. It’s the first time Steve has seen Eddie properly flustered. In that moment, he realizes he definitely wants to see more of it.
“Totally! I think it’s metal,” Dustin, who apparently heard Steve but completely missed the context, immediately agrees, and Eddie’s gaze turns to him; but the pink hue to his cheeks remains.
“Well, uh, thanks. But I’m sick of my face itching like hell.” He scratches at his chin for emphasis.
To be honest, Steve doesn’t care one way or the other. But he does wonder what kissing someone with a beard feels like. Is it nice? Would it be scratchy? Women do it all the time, so it must not be so bad. Is Eddie going to shave before Steve gets to try?
He excuses himself to go grab a drink; his throat suddenly feels parched. He realizes he’s actually been thinking of kissing Eddie. Not just thinking, but planning on doing it. Imagining how it would feel. Popping a can open, Steve takes a long sip, hoping it will conceal his sheepish smile.
Robin’s across the room from him, talking to Nancy. When he meets her eyes, she lifts an eyebrow at him. Steve gives her a shrug, deciding they better talk later. For now, he’s much too interested in watching Eddie from afar, chatting excitedly with the kids as they set up for their nerdy game.
Nancy and Robin soon leave, but Steve decides to stick around; someone needs to drive those kids home, after all. It’s a perfectly valid excuse.
***
Later that night, when all the little gremlins are safe back in their homes, Steve drives back to Eddie’s. Without a single excuse now, just because he wants to. He’s kind of dying to know whether Eddie found the gift left for him in his new bedroom.
When Eddie opens the door, Steve immediately knows that he did. There’s a shy, surprised smile on his face as he motions for Steve to follow him to his room and hobbles towards his bed with his new cane, sits down.
The vest still hangs on the back of the chair where Steve left it.
“Thought it was gone, honestly,” Eddie says, eyes looking over it fondly. He glances up at Steve. “You didn’t have to, like, clean it and everything, I could have done it myself.”
“I wanted to,” Steve says, sitting on the chair sideways and resting an arm over the back of it, over the vest. “Least I could do, for you letting me borrow it. Or should I say…” He grins. “Practically forcing me to wear it. Thank you for protecting my modesty.”
Eddie blushes and glances down at his hands, plays with his rings. Cute.
“Maybe you should keep it, it looked good on you,” Eddie says with a hesitant glance at him, immediately turns away again, as if regretting his words.
Holy shit, Eddie is flirting. Steve feels nervous jitters at that, but sees no reason not to flirt back. He wants to. He really, really wants to see how Eddie reacts. Maybe he is selfish in his own curiosity.
“Is this some sort of metalhead equivalent of a varsity jacket?” Steve teases, and Eddie’s wide eyes bore into him. He opens his mouth wordlessly, snaps it closed, his cheeks distinctly pink.
After a moment of hesitation, Steve reaches for the vest, takes it off of the chair and shoves his arms through the sleeve openings, putting it on over his own bright red sweater. He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror, fixing the collar, then turns to Eddie, still stunned and speechless, with a grin.
“So? Do I look metal?”
Eddie gulps, eyes dragging over Steve’s form, and Steve feels goosebumps all over his body at the attention. He wonders what Eddie’s gaze would feel like on him if he wasn’t wearing clothes. Holy shit, where did that thought come from?
“I guess,” Eddie finally speaks, his smile growing, “you could pass, until someone asks you to name at least one song from these bands.”
Steve’s eyes dart across the pins and patches on his chest, and he quickly points to the Metallica logo.
“Hey, Master of Puppets, right? The one you played to distract the bats.”
Eddie laughs, nodding.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to educate me on the other ones someday,” Steve shrugs.
“I wouldn’t expect you to… enjoy my kinda music, Steve,” Eddie says, fidgeting nervously.
“Why not? I liked the song you played. I don’t know the rest of it, so I can’t tell if I’m gonna love it or hate it until I do.”
“Okay. Sure,” Eddie laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Guess we’ll work on your music education, Harrington.”
Steve grins, shoving his hands in the vest pockets. They are pretty big, comfy.
“I should go,” he says, nodding his head towards the door. “Let you rest.”
“You’re still wearing my vest,” Eddie points out, visibly flustered.
“Oh, I know,” Steve says, already stepping towards the door. “Don’t worry, I’m not actually keeping it. Just borrowing it for a bit. You did say it looks good on me, right?” He winks at Eddie, leaving him speechless again, and hurries out of the room before he can second-guess himself.
He exchanges a few more pleasantries with Wayne, who lifts his eyebrows at Steve’s outfit but says nothing; after saying goodbye to him, Steve drives back home, Eddie’s vest feeling way warmer on his back than it should.
***
A few days later, Steve has dinner at Robin’s house with her mom, who as usual fawns over her daughter’s handsome boyfriend, such a polite young man; they’ve long stopped trying to insist on being just friends.
It’s definitely not helping that Robin keeps staring at him the entire dinner. Not exactly him, but the vest he’s still wearing, just over a different sweater this time.
“Have you thought about maybe testing the waters with your parents?” Steve asks her when they go upstairs to her room after dinner. “Not about yourself, just… maybe casually mention ‘a girl you know’? Just to see how they feel about it.”
Robin shakes her head at him, and Steve immediately raises his hands in surrender.
“No pressure, Robs. I’ve just been thinking, how Eddie’s uncle is cool with him. And your parents are way more chill than most. They never even tell you to keep your door open when I come over.”
“Yes, because you’re a guy. And they met at a hippie festival they both hitchhiked to without their parents’ permission at 17 years old.”
“Aren’t hippies supposed to be like, all about peace and love?”
“Former hippies. And… Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe next year, when I’m in college. I just… don’t want to risk it, not when I still live under their roof, you know?”
Steve nods, dropping the subject; he flops down and stretches out on her bed.
“Now, are we gonna talk about… the denim elephant in the room?” Robin asks with her eyebrows raised, gesturing with a finger to his outfit as she sits down next to him.
Steve chews on his lip, no idea where to even begin. So he starts with the obvious.
“Eddie said it looked good on me. We, uh… we kinda flirted a bit. I came back after the party.”
“Okaaay,” Robin says slowly, her face unreadable.
“I keep thinking about him,” Steve admits. “Like… There’s something about him. He’s just so… captivating. He’s weird, but in a good way. He’s funny. And kinda pretty, right? For a guy.”
Robin gives him a pointed look, a perplexed smile on her face.
“You’re asking me?”
“Yeah yeah, I get it, lesbian, but objectively, right? He’s got these… big, soulful eyes.”
“Yes. Like a perpetually terrified baby cow. Okay, I’ll agree on that, that’s kinda cute. You and him are similar that way, you both excel at that sad kicked puppy look.”
Steve rolls his eyes and gently elbows her.
“I like the happy look on him better. He’s got a nice smile. And his laugh is like, super infectious.” Steve bites on his own smile. “I… shit. I just… I like it when he smiles.” At me, he thinks. “I like when he smiles at me,” he repeats aloud, but in a quiet whisper. "And, um. I've been thinking about kissing him."
“Oh my god, Steve. So, to recap,” Robin says, fully grinning now and counting off on her fingers, “You think he’s pretty and funny, you like his eyes and his smile, you wanna kiss him! And you’re literally wearing his vest now. And you’re seriously still worried this is just about feeling flattered?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve chuckles, feeling his cheeks warm up. “It does sound pretty dumb.”
Before he can take another breath, he’s being squished in a tight hug; he grins, hugging Robin back and resting his chin on her head.
“Not dumb,” she says, muffled against his sweater. She pulls back, still holding him by the shoulders. “It’s not dumb at all. Do you know how many times I’ve looked at a girl, thought about how cool and pretty she was, and assumed it’s because I wanted to be like her, or just, I don’t know, impressed by her style? It’s a lot, I know.”
They sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, as Steve tries to sort through everything running through his mind.
“I just keep wondering. Is it… guys? Or just Eddie?” He fiddles with one of the pins on the vest. His gaze suddenly falls on Robin’s backpack. “Hey, uh… You still have those magazines, right?”
They didn’t get a chance to take them back to Eddie’s place yet.
“Obviously, whyyy?” Robin asks in a cautious tone, stretching out the syllable.
“Nevermind…” Steve shakes his head, blushing. “Dumb idea.”
“Maybe not.” Robin chews on her lip. “Like, if it helps you figure some stuff out…” She reaches under her mattress, takes out the bag with magazines inside it and drops it down in Steve’s lap. “Uh, soooo… I guess I’m gonna go take a very, very long shower?”
Steve groans, blushing.
“Jesus Christ, Robs, I’m not jerking off in your fucking bedroom, obviously! I just… I wanna have a look.”
He takes one of the mags out of the bag, a Playgirl issue from 1984, pushes aside the rest and opens it, starts flipping through the pages.
“Oh-kay, guess we’re pretending this isn’t weird at all,” Robin deadpans, still beside him and looking over his shoulder. “Ew,” she winces at one of the more lewd photos Steve turns a page to.
“Why are you even looking?” Steve snorts. “Just turn away!”
“Morbid curiosity,” Robin replies, not moving an inch.
It’s just guys. The same bodies he’s seen countless times in locker rooms and showers. The same kind he sees in the bathroom mirror every morning. Steve voices his thoughts out loud, confused by his own indifference.
“I… don’t know what to tell you, dingus,” Robin replies with a slight flush to her cheeks, “personally? Can’t relate. Regarding girls’ locker rooms, of course.”
Steve flips another page. Another picture of a guy that looks like he never leaves the gym, all perfect muscles and glistening skin without a single blemish. Probably covered with makeup, or retouched after developing. He’s heard about special paints that can be applied to photos, that professionals use them to remove skin imperfections.
Eddie’s body wouldn’t look anything like that. Steve hasn’t seen his wounds healing, hasn’t actually seen them since Nancy and him ripped Eddie’s shirt open to apply makeshift bandages while Robin tried to console a weeping and screaming Dustin and promised him, knowing she could be lying, that everything would be alright. But Steve knows how many there were, and what the scabbed over bite on his own stomach looks like. Multiply that by a dozen.
Would it look ugly? Steve doesn’t think so. It would look real. Like a real person with one hell of a story, lucky to be alive. Steve feels happy that Eddie’s alive. He feels giddy and a little lightheaded when Eddie smiles at him, his big brown eyes always so animated.
He feels nothing about a bunch of naked guys printed on these pages. Their eyes are static, emotionless. It’s just paint on a piece of paper.
“I don’t think this is helping,” Steve says with a resigned sigh, tossing the magazine aside.
To be fair, he didn’t know why it would. He always felt the same about regular, masculine Playboy mags. Of course, back when he’d just hit puberty, they were… exciting. Like looking at something forbidden.
But ever since Steve lost his virginity, they were never the same. They weren’t nowhere near as exciting as being with a real girl, touching her warm skin, making her feel good. And if he was alone, he preferred memories of that over fake imagery on glossy pages.
Perhaps something’s wrong with his brain, considering how every other guy he knows seems to have no problem jerking off to the skin mags, or perhaps his imagination just isn’t that good to bring the images to life. Steve stopped worrying about it when he started dating girls, so… why is this an issue again, when it comes to a guy? Maybe it shouldn’t be.
“You know what?” He finally says, turning to Robin. “I’m totally overthinking this, aren’t I? I don’t wanna think about hypothetical guys, what’s the point? Eddie’s actually real, he’s cute and funny and clearly interested in me. He flirts with me and it feels nice. If this was a girl, that would be all I needed to ask her on a date and see where it could lead.” Steve shrugs.
Robin smiles at him warmly, hugging his shoulders and squeezing.
“Then tell Eddie that. Honestly, Steve, I’d be thrilled if a girl I liked told me she’d want to ‘see where it could lead’. I’d be bummed of course if she changed her mind, but isn’t it the same with girls dating guys? A date might not work out, people get other crushes and break up, all kinds of things happen. It’s still better to… have experienced it, a bit of romance. Right?”
“Are we still talking about me, or are hyping yourself up to finally talk to Vickie?” Steve smirks at her teasingly.
“Ugh,” she shoves at him playfully, grinning. “I hate you. You might be right there, though. Pot, kettle. Let’s both give it a try?”
Steve sighs and nods, standing up.
“Okay. I’m gonna go see him tomorrow. Any advice?”
Robin thinks about it.
“Just be direct, I guess. Like, putting myself in his shoes? He’s gonna second-guess every innuendo, however obvious it may seem to you. Even the flirting, he probably thinks you’re just doing it for fun. Definitely don’t wait for him to make the first move, you’ll be old and wrinkly before that happens.”
Steve resists commenting on how this is exactly what Robin and Vickie are both doing.
***
Eddie’s shaved; it’s the first thing Steve notices when he comes over (two days after that fateful conversation in Robin’s room; sue him, he needed a bit more time) and the metalhead opens the door. Steve tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. Okay, maybe he was kinda looking forward to knowing what kissing a bearded guy feels like; but Eddie looks just as good without it, definitely younger though, and his lips look so big and soft when they’re not hidden by facial hair; Steve realizes he’s staring at Eddie’s lips, and quickly darts his gaze back to his eyes.
Those, in fact, look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets.
“What?” Steve asks, stepping into the trailer; Wayne doesn’t seem to be around, probably getting groceries or running some other errands. He drops the backpack he brought from Robin’s place on the couch and then sets a pizza box on the coffee table. “I brought pizza. You like pepperoni, right?”
“Uh. Yeah, sure.” Eddie keeps staring at him, now in a light gray sweater, the vest still on top of it. “Did you… For fuck’s sake, Steve, you’ve been walking around like this? In public?”
“Um. Yeah, why?”
Eddie groans, dropping down to the couch and hiding his face in his hands, his hair falling forward like a curtain. Steve’s heart skips a beat.
“Shit, Eddie, did I do something wrong?”
Eddie groans again, shaking his head. When he looks up, Steve’s surprised to find his face absolutely flaming.
“Steve,” he says, clearly struggling to keep his voice even. “Do you seriously not realize how this looks? I’ve been wearing it for years. Everyone knows it’s mine.”
“Oh,” Steve says quietly, his heart sinking. “Are you… embarrassed that people saw it on me?”
“Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me.” Eddie sighs, frustrated. “No. Jesus. I’m worried what people thought of you, wearing it.”
Steve frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he did get some puzzled looks. He just thought they were surprised because it’s so strikingly different from his usual wardrobe.
“Well, I’m not,” Steve says, shrugging. He sits down next to Eddie, Robin’s backpack between them. “Oh, by the way, brought your… stuff. You know. That we’re never talking about again?” He pats the backpack.
Eddie stares at it, not moving to touch it, his face going through a complex series of emotions. Finally, he looks at Steve again.
“Are you messing with me or something?”
“What? No?” Steve’s so confused. It seems like everything he says just keeps making the situation worse.
Eddie lets out another half-sigh half-groan, falling back against the cushions and looking up at the ceiling.
“Steve, I’m like, not trying to suggest you’re being an asshole, but I’m kind of going insane here. You’ve been acting different since… well, that,” he gestures to the backpack. “So I gotta ask. Are you messing with me?”
Steve knows he needs to tread lightly here; Robin was right, Eddie’s definitely second-guessing everything, Steve just didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it.
“No, I’m not messing with you,” he says softly, shaking his head. “But… you’re not wrong, about me acting different. I just… I know we agreed not to talk about it, ‘cos you’re embarrassed, but— like, there’s nothing wrong with it. Liking guys. And I just— I’ve been thinking about it. About you.”
Eddie inhales sharply, perking up. His eyes dart across Steve’s face, and then he winces, looking down at his hands.
“Look, Harrington. If you’re like, curious or something, I get it. You don’t have to, I don’t know, dance around it, humor me with the vest and everything, I can just blow you if you want.”
“What?!” Steve’s jaw falls open. He feels hot all over; but for all the wrong reasons, because the way Eddie says it is just… heartbreaking. Like that’s all Eddie’s ever expected from him.
“Eddie. No, what the hell, that’s not what this is about.”
“Oh.” Eddie looks absolutely mortified. “Okay. Excuse me, I’m gonna go set myself on fire now.”
Steve’s not exactly happy that Eddie’s injuries don’t let him move too fast, but right now it’s a blessing, allowing him to grab Eddie’s hand and stop him before he manages to awkwardly scramble off of the couch.
“Eddie, wait.” Eddie tries to wrangle his hand out of his grasp, but Steve stubbornly holds on. He places his other hand on top, thumb moving back and forth across Eddie’s skin, and that finally gets Eddie to still. He stares at his own hand between Steve’s, completely shocked.
Steve’s not getting another chance. Be direct.
“I think— no, I know. I like you. I’ve never liked a guy this way before, so I’m sorry if I’m acting weird, it’s been a… complicated week for me.”
Eddie’s still staring at him owlishly, wordless, but he quietly gasps at the admission. Steve just decides to keep talking, to get it all out, right now.
“And, uh… thank you, for the offer, but that’s not what I’m looking for. Not something quick and meaningless. I am curious, but not just about… It’s more about you, as a person, okay? You’re smart and funny, and you’re really pretty, and I like flirting with you, and, uh… Do you wanna go out sometime? With me? Or like, not out exactly, I know you’re still recovering, but… I could rent some movies? Or we could listen to your music, if you’re still up for educating me. We could drive over to my place, for some privacy, and I’ll make dinner? I just wanna get to know you and see where this leads. You know?”
Steve takes a deep breath after that whole rambling speech, heart thumping in his chest, butterflies swarming inside his belly. Eddie’s still clearly stunned, but now, his expression starts shifting from complete disbelief to something bright and hopeful, his eyes lighting up and the corners of his lips slowly lifting.
“Holy shit, you mean that?” He finally asks, amazed, forehead wrinkled with how high up his eyebrows went.
Steve smiles at him.
“Yeah. If… if you don’t mind taking it slow, ‘cos I’m a little bit out of my depth here.”
“Shit,” Eddie groans, pulling his hand away from Steve and running them both through his hair, making an even fluffier mess of it than it usually is. “Oh my god, you— and I just blurted out— fuuuuck, I might actually set myself on fire.”
“Please don’t,” Steve laughs, reaching for him again, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Not exactly on purpose, Steve,” Eddie giggles hysterically, his face red, “ever heard of spontaneous combustion?”
They both laugh for a good minute, slumped against each other on the couch.
“I, um,” Eddie speaks up first when their giggles have finally subsided, shy and hesitant. “I’m definitely out of my depth here, too. Even the flirting, you— you completely blindsided me. I’m not used to anyone flirting back.”
Steve nods, taking Eddie’s hand again, twirling the rings around his fingers like Eddie usually does himself when he’s obviously nervous. He wonders briefly what the hell that blowjob offer even was, if Eddie’s never done anything besides flirting. Or maybe he meant in a romantic sense? Does he just usually have… meaningless sex with guys? It makes Steve a bit sad, to think about it; not that anything’s wrong with that, but… Eddie deserves more.
He decides not to ask; it doesn’t really matter anyway, for now, because Eddie’s absolutely melting against him from his fingers being played with.
“And you’re wearing my vest,” Eddie continues quietly after a brief silence, glancing at it. “Like… what the fuck.”
“I mean… Looks good on me, right?” Steve teases, grinning.
“I’m serious, Steve, be careful. It’s not even about— like, yeah, friends can wear each other’s stuff too, but then it’s not just any other guy’s vest, it’s mine. You know what people think about me in this town. Even with the charges dropped.”
“People are idiots. They just don’t know you. But if you’re worried…” Steve shrugs the vest off, draping it over the back of the couch, then takes Eddie’s hand again. “It’s yours anyway, I was gonna give it back.”
“I can make you your own one,” Eddie blurts out, immediately gets flustered again and fidgets, fingers moving in Steve’s grasp. “Um. Like, decorate it with the stuff you like. Doesn’t have to be bands, can be whatever. Basketball teams or whatever you’re into.”
Steve turns his head and moves without thinking, only one thing on his mind. Eddie gasps against the fist touch of his lips, perfectly still for a second; and then he exhales shakily in Steve’s mouth and moves his lips too, slow and uncertain, but definitely keen on kissing him back, and that’s all that matters.
Steve brushes a hand over Eddie’s cheek, slides his fingers into his hair, tilts his head, and the kiss gets even better at an angle, lips slotting perfectly together and tongues tentatively brushing each other. Eddie keeps humming little noises that are making it increasingly difficult to keep the kiss relatively chaste; suddenly, Steve just wants to devour him, pull him into his lap and draw more of these wonderful sounds out of him. He has to keep reminding himself to keep it slow.
It’s attraction, pure and simple. Same way he always felt kissing a girl he liked; and despite the long hair, he’s very much aware Eddie’s not a girl. The big hand with calloused fingers on his own cheek, the flat chest rapidly moving under the palm Steve places on it, the faint scratchiness of the barely-there stubble above the upper lip.
By the time they part for air, Steve’s heart is bursting at the seams. He’s sure now, more than at any point before, that he’s completely enamored with the guy now panting in his face with an awestruck smile. It’s absolutely not about the flattery. It’s completely unselfish, the way he can’t wait to romance Eddie, to keep making him smile and laugh and blush.
And sure, maybe the way Eddie’s looking at him like he’s a giant chocolate cake is part of it, but not all.
“You don’t have to make me anything, but if you want to, I’d love it,” he says.
“Huh?” Eddie seems to have forgotten the entire conversation thread from before the kiss; Steve chuckles.
“My own vest.”
Steve’s still not entirely sure if this is some sort of varsity jacket equivalent to Eddie, but something in the way Eddie’s cheeks turn even redder makes him think he had the right idea. He’s definitely going to wear it.