Chapter 1: Hey You
Notes:
I’m not sure if anyone will read this, but I thought I’d post it if not for anyone else, for myself! And hopefully one or two other people might find it and enjoy it as well. It’s a little bit different from the other fics I’ve read (and enjoyed) because I’ve added an original character to the mix. I’m not sure if she’ll be loved as much as the OG’s, and for a while I considered not even writing her in, but the idea of a polyamorous Steddie fic won. I didn’t really want to use one of the existing characters because Robin and Nancy just didn’t seem to fit into the mix romantically. That’s how we got here.
I know we’re all obsessed with the Eddie/Steve pairing, but here I am, mixing it up. Hopefully, if you’re reading this, you like the idea as much as I do! Get ready for angst angst angst and smut smut smut and somewhat of a plot even though I haven’t quite figured it all out yet.
Anyway, if you’re here, enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Eddie
Eddie was dead.
If there was one fact he was certain of – one thing that he knew without a shadow of a doubt – was that he was dead. Eddie was never the brightest bulb in the box, but it didn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to come to that conclusion. Eddie fully embraced it. The signs were all there. And so were the memories.
Eddie internally flinched at his final memory. The pain in Dustin Henderson’s voice as he came running over to him in the unearthly blue hue of the Upside Down.
“Eddie, Eddie! Oh – Oh, God. Oh, God, Eddie.” Henderson’s voice was like a warm blanket to Eddie’s ringing ears. The only thing bringing him comfort as his body – his entire being – seared like it was laid on glowing red coals. Red like the lightening that flashed in the sky above Henderson’s head. Henderson, who was now looming over Eddie’s unmoving frame. How had he gotten back through the gate when Eddie had made sure to cut the rope? How was it possible that he was here right now? Please, God, don’t let anything happen to Dustin.
Eddie toyed with the idea of giving Henderson shit – telling him to go back – but he couldn’t bring himself to scold the boy as tears spilled from his friend’s eyes. His best friend. Eddie’s own eyes overflowed as he attempted to move. Even though his ankle barely scratched the ground, there was a searing hot pain. He stopped himself from screaming out. Instead, he looked at the shattered boy in front of him as his eyes blurred in and out of focus.
“Bad, huh?” He knew it was by the look on Dustin’s face.
“No. No, no, no, no, no. You’re gonna be fine. We just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?” Dustin’s gaze roamed over Eddie’s body. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the state of it looked like, not when he knew so whole-heartedly how it felt.
“Okay,” Eddie said, but he was unsure he could move. Could he even feel his feet?
“Alright, alright, alright, alright,” Dustin panicked, hauling on Eddie’s arm to try to get the man into a sitting position. Liquid copper travelled from his lungs into his mouth with the movement, and as much as he tried to bend his legs, they wouldn’t budge. There was no use. “Come on. Come on!”
“I – I need a second, I just need a second, okay?” Eddie tried to control his voice as black spots edged from the peripheral of his vision and threatened to overtake its entirety. He didn’t want Henderson to see him die, but it was dawning on him that that was his fate now. There was nothing Eddie could do, but hopefully make the impact as soft as he could. His gut twisted at leaving Henderson this way. The poor kid looked more broken than Eddie felt.
As his friend gazed down on him, Eddie smiled. It was genuine – unforced. As much as he hurt, Dustin’s presence was a welcome one, and he was happy that his final moments would be with the bratty kid that he came to love so dearly.
Eddie hoped this wasn’t in vain. He hoped that he had helped. That his group of misfit friends had more time. Because that’s what they were now – his friends. He hoped they were all going to be okay. “I didn’t run away this time, right?”
“No. No, no, no, no. You didn’t run,” Dustin shook his head frantically as more tears poured from his eyes in a steady stream.
Eddie’s heart swelled. Even though he knew he was dying, he felt like his life was finally full. He had found his family that he never had growing up. Their faces flashed behind his eyes. Robin who Eddie really believed he could be good friends with had he had the chance. Nancy, so badass and strong and sure. Even King Steve Harrington who, turned out, wasn’t that bad of a guy. Gareth and Jeff who had stuck by Eddie’s side since middle school. Mike and Lucas and Max – so much potential in the little bastards. Potential that Eddie would never get to see blossom. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”
“No! You’re gonna do that yourself!” Dustin sobbed.
“Nah, man.” Eddie could barely focus on the boy in front of him anymore. He forced his eyes open even though he so badly wanted to sink into his exhaustion. “Say ‘I’m gonna look after them,’” he desperately needed the reassurance. “Say it.”
Dustin shook above him, trying to contain the sobs that burst from his chest. “I’m g-gonna look after them.” The boy’s voice was a heartbreaking whisper. The sound of himself giving in to Eddie’s fate.
“Good,” Eddie breathed, though liquid choked him from getting as much oxygen as he felt he needed. He focused on the flashes of red in the sky, and the thick, black clouds, and the eery noises of this other world. He wished he could say goodbye to his uncle Wayne. That man had given Eddie his whole life. Making sure he was safe, warm, accepted, loved. He wished he could make his uncle proud.
“Cause I’m actually gonna graduate.” He looked at Dustin’s red face. The kid was trying so hard to hold it together. “I think it’s my year, Henderson,” Eddie said, desperate to make his friend smile one last time. Dustin’s head nodded and his lips pulled up in the corners. It wasn’t the wide, shit-eating grin that Eddie would have liked to see, but it was close enough. “I think it’s finally my year.”
Eddie could feel his mind going numb, and his body followed. It was a welcome change. But he struggled with consciousness. He didn’t know whether he was smiling, but he tried to keep his lips pulled into a grin as he looked one last time at Dustin. “I love you, man.”
As the rest of Eddie’s vision finally went dark, he thought he heard Henderson say, “I love you, too.”
And now, as much as Eddie hated to admit it, he was dead.
He knew because he couldn’t see. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel – at least couldn’t feel anything than the heavy weight of the dark, and the quiet, and the knowing he was dead. But – how did he know he was dead? He knew he was dead, but how did he know it?
Math was never Eddie’s strongest subject – in fact – he barely passed the class with a D minus. Mr. Burley probably only passed him by the skin of his teeth so he wouldn’t have to endure Eddie sitting in on his class for another semester. But something wasn’t adding up about the knowing part of being dead. Eddie – obviously – wasn’t a religious man. But in this moment, he knew he was wrong about something. Because knowing he was dead either meant that he was in some sort of afterlife, or it meant… he wasn’t dead.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. These are my thoughts, man. I have thoughts. I have consciousness!
Eddie tried desperately to locate one of his appendages – a leg, or an arm, or a finger, or a fucking toe for all he cared. But there was no body that he could find. He felt like a floating brain that was connected to nothing.
For fuck’s sake. Out of everything, my brain survived? That’s the least talented part of me.
If he couldn’t feel, and he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t see, what could he do? Maybe this was Hell.
But there was something else. Something far away in the darkness, but it was there. It wasn’t a light, or anything Eddie could see. It was… a sound? Yes, it was a sound. More like, a symphony of sounds. Of notes. Chords. Instruments. And it was familiar. Eddie could hear. And although he had no legs to carry him, he willed his consciousness to follow it. And somehow he managed, because the song grew louder and louder until Eddie could almost, almost, locate his ears.
Shit. I know this rhythm section anywhere!
Black Sabbath’s War Pigs blared through his mind and Eddie revelled its familiarity. It was one of his favourite songs. He just wished he had working arms so he could slam on some invisible drums as he always liked to when he listened to it. Or working fingers so he could move his hands into the chords that he knew by heart. But honestly, just hearing it was enough.
Eddie almost wondered if this was a coping mechanism that his brain was allowing him. Like throwing him a bone. You’re trapped in your own mind, but here’s some Ozzy. But before the song was even over, it abruptly stopped, and everything went quiet again.
God damnit.
Eddie started sinking back into the feeling of nothing. But then –
“Come on, man.”
Harrington?
Why could Eddie hear Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington’s voice next to his almost ears?
That’s it. It’s official. Eddie had lost his goddamn mind. Or maybe his mind had lost him. He couldn’t quite decide under the circumstances.
“We’re all counting on you, Munson,” Steve’s voice coated Eddie’s mind like thick honey. Since when was Harrington’s voice a comfort rather than strictly irritating? He didn’t really care. Instead, he sank into it and allowed himself to grasp onto the last ounce of solace in his now dark world. “Especially Dustin. How about you stick around for Dustin?”
The familiar feeling of guilt ripped Eddie from his calm stupor.
Shit, man. I tried. I’m… I’m trying.
“He worships you, dude. He’s… been quiet since that day, you know? But I heard him in here yesterday, talking about how awesome you were shredding your guitar. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just, that’s the first time I heard him sounding... like Henderson. You know?”
Dustin had talked to him? Yesterday? Eddie hadn’t heard him yesterday. He didn’t even know that yesterday existed. And where was ‘in here’? Where was Eddie? He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. So instead, he just listened. He waited for Steve’s voice to continue – to clue him into whatever fresh hell was going on.
Keep going, Harrington. Keep going.
“I wish I could have seen it. You playing guitar, I mean. Maybe not under those circumstances.” A sarcastic laugh. “I wish… I wish a lot of things, man.”
Eddie felt a swell of emotion. He hadn’t known Steve long, but he knew pretty quickly that Steve wasn’t the asshole Eddie thought him to be in high school. He had learned to like Steve over the days that they had spent together. Really like him. And it sounded like maybe Steve liked Eddie, too. Huh, all it took was Eddie dying to become friends with Steve Harrington. If Eddie was really dead. If Steve was really talking.
“When you wake up, will you play for me?”
Suddenly, Eddie felt warmth. Warmth… somewhere. Like he had a body he could feel but he didn’t know he could feel it. But somehow, he knew what it was, that warmth. It was… a touch. Maybe an embrace. Skin on skin. It was holding hands. Eddie knew it was holding hands. It didn’t feel like holding hands, not in the sense that he’d felt before, but Eddie knew that’s what it was. Steve Harrington was holding Eddie Munson’s hand.
Yeah, Harrington, I’ll play for you.
The silence after the question lingered longer that Eddie would have liked. He almost wondered if Steve had left, but the ghost of his touch remained. He still felt Steve’s presence. It was just a silent one. Moments passed and Eddie wished so badly he could speak, or move, or at least locate himself. But moments passed and he couldn’t. He just waited for Steve to speak again. That’s all he could do.
“I met this girl. She’s super cool, dude. There’s just something about her. She – well – she’s probably more your type than mine. She plays the guitar, too. And she listens to a lot of your music. She told me to bring this tape – uh – Black Sabbath?”
So that’s where the music had come from. Steve was paying a tape.
“She told me that it was a good one to play for you. She… She reminds me a lot of you, man. She reminds me of you. I really – uh – really like her.”
Eddie felt something. Jealousy maybe. Maybe a bit of confusion why Steve was even telling him this. But also, he felt a little warm and fuzzy that Steve had said she reminded him of Eddie. And that he liked her for it. At least, that’s what Eddie had gotten from that. That that was a reason Steve liked her. That she reminded him of Eddie. Therefore, Steve liked Eddie. Right?
“Anyway, we’ve been spending some time together and she’s really helping with… all of this. Of course, she doesn’t know everything. She can’t know everything. It’s just, like, she’s so intuitive. It’s like she already knows without me having to tell her.”
She sounds great, man.
“She said she knew you from high school. Well, she knew of you. She said she always thought you were cool. She wanted to be your friend, but she never had the guts to talk to you,” Steve huffed a laugh. “She thought you were intimidating. I get that. You are intimidating, Munson.”
That was a lot to unpack. Eddie had never had anyone on the outside think he was cool. Not outside of his little D&D sheep and his couple of friends that grew in the same direction as him from middle school. Outsiders didn’t look at Eddie Munson and think, what a cool dude. They got uncomfortable. They thought he was dangerous. A freak. A criminal. Only a couple of those things were true. Outsiders didn’t want to be Eddie’s friend. Who was this girl?
And, wait, did Steve think Eddie was intimidating? In what way? Fuck, Eddie wished so badly that he could drill into Steve. Wait. Drill? Not… in that way. Well, maybe in that way. Shit. But no, he wanted to ask Steve what he meant. So badly.
“Her name is Rachel. Rachel Stanley. Do you remember her?”
Eddie racked his brain. Rachel Stanley.
Yes, yes, I remember her!
Rachel Stanley had graduated last year, the year after Eddie was supposed to graduate the first time. And Eddie had noticed Rachel Stanley in school. She had always… intrigued him. She’d wear t-shirts with band logos that Eddie liked. AC/DC, Rush, Guns N’ Roses. The tamer, more acceptable hard rock. But he liked them, nonetheless. He always wanted to ask if she actually listened to those bands. He never did ask though. Eddie didn’t approach random people, at least not in that way.
He remembered Rachel, although a little edgy, a little rock and roll, always looked friendly with her bright smile. She always looked clean with her long locks of midnight hair that she never permed or styled like the other girls. It always hung in shiny, natural waves down her back. He remembered she was popular, at least a lot more popular than him, and he remembered being a little bit jealous of that fact. She also wore a leather jacket, she also liked heavier music, she also carried a guitar on her back down the halls. But instead of getting shoved face-first into lockers, she would get friendly waves from all sorts. Everyone liked her. The cheerleaders and jocks, the band geeks, the stoners. They all liked Rachel Stanley. And Eddie had to admit, when he remembered her throwing him shy smiles across the cafeteria, he liked her too. Not every popular kid was bad. Rachel wasn’t bad. Chrissy wasn’t bad.
“Rachel always believed you were innocent, dude. She said, ‘Eddie isn’t as scary as everyone thinks he is. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ She said that. And you know, she’s right, isn’t she? You wouldn’t hurt anyone, would you, Munson? Not on purpose.”
Something in the way Steve’s voice hitched made Eddie’s chest feel tight. His chest? Could Eddie feel his chest or was that just what he assumed would feel tight with whatever emotion he was experiencing? No, it was his chest. It was right there, feeling all tight and shit. Eddie had found his chest.
“So… So don’t hurt us, Munson. Don’t hurt us. Come back to us, man.”
Steve was crying. Eddie didn’t know much, like he said before, but he knew Steve was crying. More than he knew he was dead when he first regained (internal) consciousness. More than he knew he wasn’t dead now. He knew Steve was crying. Over Eddie. And in turn, Eddie wanted to cry. Which was totally not metal. And for once he was happy that he couldn’t locate his eyes because he was sure if he could, tears would be streaming from them right alongside Steve’s.
***
Steve
What the hell. Why was Steve crying over Eddie Munson? If today Steve told three-years-ago Steve that one day he would be crying over Eddie Munson, he would get a fist to his jaw.
But here he was, holding Munson’s goddamn lifeless – but somehow still warm – hand, leaning over his lifeless – but somehow still breathing – body, crying big, fat tears that were landing on his lifeless – but somehow still handsome – face. And it wasn’t weird that Steve acknowledged that Eddie was handsome. It was just a fact, like the grass was green, or the sky was blue. Eddie was handsome.
Steve had gone to see Eddie everyday since returning from the Upside Down. Sometimes he would go twice. There was something totally serene, therapeutic, talking to Eddie. Even though he couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t reply. And it had been months. Multiple.
Each day he felt closer to Eddie, but something about that sucked. Because he knew when Eddie woke up – if Eddie woke up – he would have known Steve for only the week or so that they had spent together before all of this. Before Eddie almost died. But Steve had seen Eddie everyday for months. Nearly three. It was late June – man, how time had flown. And Steve felt like he knew him. Like… Eddie was now Steve’s best friend.
He had been to Eddie’s trailer, through his room to pack bags of tapes and photos of his family. Well, just one photo of him and his uncle Wayne. He brought books and read chapters to him. He was halfway through Return of the King. Steve knew now what Munson had meant about the Shire and about Mordor. In the quiet of the hospital, he’d also told Eddie secrets without fear of being judged. He’d cried with him, just like he was doing now, without fear of things getting weird.
And the thing was, Steve knew it could have been because Eddie was unconscious that he felt this way. Accepted. Peaceful. But in all honesty, he didn’t think that was the case. He itched for Eddie to be awake so he could tell him the same things. The same secrets. And somehow, he knew the judgment would never come. That those secrets would still be kept under lock and key, just as tight as they were now.
Steve toyed with one of the rings on Eddie’s fingers. He technically wasn’t supposed to be wearing them, but Steve snuck a couple of them onto his hand every time he came to visit. He’d take them all off before he left, but for the few hours or so that Eddie got to wear them, it felt like he was a bit closer to being… Eddie. The one that Steve had come to like. Love, even. Steve loved Eddie, and that wasn’t weird either because Steve loved Dustin and Lucas and Will, and fuck it, even Mike. Mostly. It was normal to love your male friends. And Eddie was Steve’s friend. So, yeah. He loved him.
“God damnit, Munson –” Steve could feel himself getting frustrated. That seemed to happen a lot when he thought too hard about Eddie. About the possibility of him never regaining consciousness. It was like he was teetering on a ledge between being happy that Eddie was alive – that his heart was beating – and sad that he couldn’t mourn him. Because he couldn’t. He was in a constant state of not knowing. And when Eddie was still technically here, technically still breathing, he couldn’t let him go. Not that he wanted to let him go. No. He just wanted him to “fucking wake up!”
The words came out without Steve really knowing that he was going to say them. He only knew because he could hear the echo off the walls. But the truth was that he was angry, and he was suddenly trembling with the desire to yell louder.
“Wake up! Wake up, Munson! Fucking – wake up!” His voice broke on the last syllable, and his throat felt raw. Maybe he was yelling louder than he intended. He didn’t care. He was mad. Mad that Eddie had been a hero when he’d told him not to. Does Eddie even know why Steve had said that? Because he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to lose him. Because Steve had known even then that he wanted Munson to stick around for a while. But instead, he was here, they both were, and neither of them were in good shape. Eddie – physically. Steve – emotionally. Why did Eddie have to be a goddamn hero? And he was. A hero. He was Dustin’s Hero. Nancy and Robin’s Hero. He was Hawkins’ hero, even though nobody knew it. And he was Steve’s hero. Mostly Steve’s hero, he decided. Steve wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Eddie.
“Sorry, man,” Steve’s voice was a whisper again. He twirled Eddie’s ring around his finger, and then slid it onto his own. It felt weird. Heavy. But he liked it. Steve was sure Eddie wouldn’t mind if he kept this one safe for him for the next while. “It’s just – you’ll be so much happier when you wake up. Hopper, he cleared your name. You’re a free man, Munson. You can… you can get the fuck out of Hawkins and become a goddamn rockstar if you wanted to! You are a rockstar, aren’t you? You’re a rockstar regardless.”
He leaned closer into the unconscious man. Even under the tubes and wires and electronic beeping and scarring on his jaw and dark circles… he looked peaceful. If that was possible. Like he was just sleeping. Maybe, maybe he was just sleeping. His eyes seemed to flutter under his lids. Did that just happen? Or was Steve imagining things? Did coma patients have fluttering eyes? Did that mean something, if it did happen?
“Are you in there, Eddie?” It felt weird to say his first name. Intimate. But the moment felt intimate to Steve, even if he was the only one experiencing it. His voice could barely be heard amongst the monitors. “I miss you, Eddie. I – I miss you. If you’re in there, please. Please.”
Begging to an unconscious man probably wouldn’t get him very far in life. But he couldn’t keep himself from begging. Steve remembered reading (yeah, sometimes he did that) that coma patients might be able to hear you while they’re unconscious. When Max woke from hers, she said she didn’t remember anything. So maybe that was all bullshit.
Steve could remember the day that Mayfield woke. It was two weeks – well, 16 days to be exact – after returning from the Upside Down.
It was nearly 1am when the phone in his room started ringing. It shocked him out of a nightmare – the ringing had turned into chiming in the dream realm, and he was sure he was going to be killed by Vecna. Until, before the fourth ring, he awoke with a jolt, covered in a layer of sweat.
It's an uneasy feeling, getting a phone call in the wee hours of the morning. And under the current circumstances, it would probably either be really good news, or really bad news. He braced himself before picking up. “Hello?”
“OHMYGODSTEVEYOUHAVETOGETTOTHEHOSPITALRIGHTNOW –” It was Henderson, of course, on the opposite end of the line. Having a good freak out. That didn’t ease Steve’s nerves. There was still a 50/50 chance that this call was of the bad variety.
“Whoa, whoa, dude, slow down,” he couldn’t help that his voice was a couple of octaves higher than normal. It was a stressful situation. “Henderson, what’s going on?”
“Max! It’s Max!”
Steve’s stomach flipped. Please, please don’t let anything happen to Max. “What about Max, Henderson? If you don’t spit it out right now –”
“She’s awake, Steve!”
The first thing Steve felt was a flood of relief. It was like a massive weight was removed from his shoulders – a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying. Yeah, it was cliché. But there’s a reason people say it. And that’s what Steve felt. Lighter. But don’t blame him when the second thing he felt was – well, it was kind of like jealousy, but on Eddie’s behalf. But no, it wasn’t Eddie who was feeling it, Eddie would never feel something like that, it was all Steve. Steve could only think, why not Eddie?
He didn’t get any sleep that night. He went straight to the hospital where everyone – and he means everyone – gathered to welcome a newly conscious, but still sleepy and drugged out Mayfield. She didn’t say much in the three hours they were all there – her voice was raw from not being used and of course, the tube that was shoved down her throat. And even if she could talk, her mind hadn’t been all there. Not yet. That came around days later.
But after the three hours at the hospital, when everyone started going home for some rest, Steve went to Eddie’s room and stayed there. He figured if Max had woken up, maybe Eddie would too, maybe 16 days was the magic coma number, and Steve wanted to be there when Eddie opened his eyes. Of course, he didn’t wake up. Not even when Steve leaned over his face and touched over his eyelids to see if that would make them open. It didn’t.
Eddie didn’t wake up that day, and Eddie still wasn’t awake, and here was Steve at his wit’s end, begging a man who probably couldn’t hear him to wake up.
The thing was, Steve wasn’t quite sure why he wanted – needed – Eddie to be awake so badly. Yeah, he wanted to joke around and invite him to movie nights and maybe get high or drunk together. But there was more to it than that. That was a big part of what he wanted but then there was a part of him that wanted to tell Eddie something. Confide in him. But when it came right down to it, Steve wasn’t quite sure what it was he wanted to tell. He just knew it was important.
Steve stared at Eddies hands. He did that a lot, waiting for some sort of twitch, some sort of movement. Over the months he learned to like Eddie’s hands. Especially with the rings. They made his fingers look especially long. And if Steve wasn’t staring at Eddie’s hands, he was staring at his lips. Again, just waiting for movement. No other reason. Or his eyes. His big, round, dark, stupid eyes. Like a lemur, or an owl. His stupid owl eyes. He wished they were open so he could remember exactly what animal they reminded him of. What he wouldn’t give to see Munson’s stupid eyes again. But he’d stare at them and wait for a flutter. Which happened today, and if that wasn’t the silver highlight.
“Eddie. I have to go. I’ll leave the TV on for you, okay? Because you can hear in there, can’t you?” Steve didn’t really believe it. Not really. But talking like he did helped. He wanted to believe Eddie was there with him. Not just his body, as nice as it was.
He slipped the silver rings off Eddie’s fingers but kept the smallest one – the one he had slipped over his own knuckle earlier – on his own. Like he said, Eddie wouldn’t mind.
When Steve had first met Eddie, it jarred him how the older boy would lean into his personal space so often. Jarred him, but it was never uncomfortable. And while Eddie was here, trapped in his unmoving body, Steve found himself missing the intrusion. He wanted Eddie in his space. So here he was, leaning down with his own face mere inches from Eddie’s. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt good. He moved forward again. His nose brushed Eddie’s, and the latter’s eyes flickered once again.
Steve pulled in a deep breath and moved his hand to brush Eddie’s bangs away from his eyes. His bangs were getting long and they now rested on his eyelids. He would brush them away from his eyes just in case they opened. Just in case, so Eddie wasn’t uncomfortable. And as much as Steve didn’t want to admit it, maybe his hand lingered on Eddies cheek for a moment after he brushed back his hair. Maybe he just wanted to make sure his skin was warm. Make sure he was okay. That’s probably why he did it.
He cleared his throat and shoved the rolling chair back from the side of Eddie’s bed as if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Even though he was alone. Maybe it was Steve who caught himself. He stood. His knees felt like jelly after sitting for so long. They always did.
“Alright, man. See you tomorrow. Hope you like Golden Girls.” He laughed to himself as he eyed the TV playing in the corner of the room. Of course Eddie wouldn’t like The Golden Girls. It felt good, to tease him. Steve could almost hear his threatening tone as he spoke his last name – Harrington.
He pressed play on the tape that he had started earlier, letting whatever metal song continue from halfway through. At least when the tape stopped, the TV would still be on, so Eddie might not feel so alone. That is, if he could hear. Steve was holding onto hope.
With one last look around the room, one last flutter of Eddie’s eyes, Steve left, twirling his new – Eddie’s old – ring on his middle finger.
Notes:
Each chapter will be named after a song. Today it’s Hey You by Pink Floyd. I think Eddie would like to get high and listen to Pink Floyd. Maybe it’s a band that both Steve and Eddie could agree on. Who knows for sure.
I got a lot of inspiration for this chapter from Lifes for the Living by cherrycolatree. If you haven’t read it, please. It’s so good.
Chapter 2: Still of the Night
Notes:
It’s still a slow burn because technically Steve and Rachel are in a relationship so of course they’re canoodling. It doesn’t count. Here’s just a taste of the smut that is on the horizon. And I mean just a taste. This is only the tip of the iceberg. It’s gonna get so much worse.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve
He hadn’t been lying. There really was something about Rachel. She was special. Steve had never felt this way about a girl before, besides maybe with Nancy Wheeler. But this still felt a little bit different. It was easier. Not that being with Nancy hadn’t been easy. It’s more like, being with Rachel was too easy. In a good way. No part of him had his walls up. No part of her was high strung. She was like a breath of fresh air. Somehow, she was put together but still messy. Messy enough that Steve didn’t feel like he needed to be perfect, because neither was she. She wasn’t perfect in the most perfect way.
“Rae,” he breathed her name like it was the most beautiful lyric to the most beautiful song. He felt lucky that he could say her name like that. It was his name to speak in the late hours of the night, as the moonlight pooled through the window of her small bedroom. The white glow illuminated her face like a gorgeous angel, her brown eyes sparkled, her dark hair pooled around the pillow underneath her head. “Rae.”
“Hm?” A smile played on her lips as Steve hovered over her body. Her fingers were laced at the nape of his neck, playing with the longer strands of his mousy brown hair that grew there. It sent shivers down his spine.
Steve hadn’t told anyone that the reason he approached Rachel the day he saw her smoking in the park. It was because it looked like Eddie Munson had been reincarnated in female form in front of his very eyes. No, he didn’t tell anyone, because that would mean that when he spoke to Rachel it was some sort of coping mechanism, and that wasn’t the case. Well, maybe at the time, it was slightly the case. But who was Steve to know that weeks later she would be the sole person, other than Eddie and of course Robin, who brought him any kind of comfort. She was the sole person who brought him intimacy. To hold her and to be held in return.
Yes, she reminded him of Eddie. She had the same dark eyes, but hers were more almond shaped rather than round. Her hair was also a deep brown, but hers was silkier and less curly. Her skin was also milky white. She wore black jeans with holes in the knees. Only sometimes. But that was the first thing Steve noticed when he first saw Rachel smoking in the park. And her lips were also pink and full. Not that he’d been staring at Munson’s lips a lot. He just noticed that his and Rae’s looked kind of similar.
So here he was, hovering over Rachel who clung to him almost as needily as he clung to her, moaning out her name with every tentative touch of her fingers against his neck.
Every time with Rachel felt like the first time. He wanted her just as bad each instance he ended up in her bed, which was more often than not. He craved the soft slope of her hips, and the tender flesh of her ass, and the sharp bend of her collarbone. He craved the way she whimpered when he’d run one of his fingers through the slit of her pussy so he could feel how wet she got for him. And she always did get so wet for him. It made him want her all the more.
He drug his middle finger through her pussy and pressed a tight circle over her clit. Her hips stuttered in response. “Steve.” His name almost sounded as sweet coming from her lips as it felt to say hers. Her eyes fluttered shut. Steve had a thing for fluttering eyes at the moment.
When he pressed his fingers into her, Rachel moaned long and drawn out. It was one of Steve’s favourite sounds – her moans. He loved that he was the one to make her sing like that. “Yes, baby?” He pumped his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them when he was inside her in the way he learned she liked. More moans, more music to his ears.
“Mmm, Steve.”
It wasn’t tactful, to say ‘I love you’ during sex. Steve knew that. But he was just so overwhelmed. The feeling of Rachel’s silken body beneath his. The way their lips danced around one another, not really kissing but not really not kissing – somewhere in between. The way he was inside of her, that he could feel her tense and rock and squirm beneath him like his fingers were magic. Like she couldn’t contain her reactions. Like maybe, just maybe, she was feeling everything he was feeling.
“I love you.” Steve had his lips next to Rachel’s ear. He kept his voice low – not even a whisper, but more of a sigh. A quiet confession. And no, maybe it wasn’t tactful, but it was honest. Rachel’s body stilled, but only for a second. Her fingers found their way beneath Steve’s jaw and drew his face back, tilting it so she could look into his eyes.
“You love me?”
“So much, Rae.”
And just like that, Steve was out in the open, vulnerable. Nervous. Blissful. Thrilled, even. But, what if? What if this wasn’t what Steve thought it was? What if Rae didn’t love him back? What if she thought this was all… bullshit? Bullshit. It wouldn’t be the first time. Could he handle it if Rae said this was all bullshit?
Steve tensed, but it didn’t last long before his muscles melted, because “I love you too, Steve Harrington. So much,” spilled from his lover’s lips and he was floating again. He was elated. Rachel Stanley loved Steve Harrington. That was his new favourite fact. His girlfriend loved him. It couldn’t be as much as he loved her, that was probably impossible, but even if she loved him half as much, that was a lot. So he hoped she loved him half as much as he loved her.
His lips found hers in a slow, practiced kiss. His tongue traced her lower lip and she opened her mouth to let him explore inside. He loved the way she tasted. Like cherry lollipops – because she always had one in her mouth so she didn’t smoke as much. She was cutting back, she said. And she also tasted like menthol, because she used this expensive salve on her lips. That’s why her mouth always felt so soft. And then she also just tasted like Rachel. Another flavour beyond the cherry and the menthol, one that Steve couldn’t place and couldn’t describe, but it was his favourite. And sometimes she would taste like liquor or cigarettes or weed. Those ones weren’t as consistent, but it was worth noting. Once she tasted like chocolate after Steve kissed her in the lot of the drive-in theater. Chocolate and caramel, because she had picked Milk Duds from the concession, and they were still melted on her tongue when he leaned in for a kiss. Steve could write a whole novel about all the lovely flavours that were Rachel.
When their lips parted, Steve leaned back. He balanced himself on his knees, between Rae’s spread legs and watched as his fingers spread her open. They were covered in her arousal, glistening in the soft light of the room. He saw that her eyes were closed as she revelled in the feeling. Eyes fluttering behind closed lids. Yes, Steve loved the way her eyes fluttered like that. It showed him that even though her eyes were closed, that she was aware. She was feeling and enjoying.
Steve wondered if that’s why Eddie’s eyes fluttered when he had visited earlier that day. Was he aware? Was he feeling? Did he like that Steve was there, so close to him? Holding his hand, moving his hair, brushing his warm cheek with light fingertips? Would Eddie like that Steve had gotten so close to him?
Steve’s cock pulsed under his boxers. He could feel his balls tighten at the images in his head. Why was Steve thinking about touching Eddie’s cheek right now? When Rachel was spread out so beautifully underneath him. Fuck, she was beautiful too. But so was Eddie, wasn’t he? Was it weird that Steve was thinking about how beautiful Eddie was? How his cheek was also soft? Maybe not as soft as Rachel’s but yeah, it was soft.
He moaned, unable to keep his hand off himself for any longer. He pushed the waistband of his boxers so they caught under his balls and stroked himself a couple of times with his left hand, watching as his fingers disappeared into his girlfriend. She writhed under his hand as he kept circling her clit with his thumb. God, he loved the way she sounded when he fucked her. And he wanted to fuck her, but Steve noticed something different. Something that caught his attention and engrossed him completely once he did.
Eddie’s ring, on the middle finger of his right hand. A finger that was pumping in and out of Rachel. A finger that was shiny in the slick that wept from her perfect pussy, gathering at the base where the ring sat. That ring that once was on Eddie’s fingers, fingers that Steve admittedly liked very much, and now that ring pressed against Rachel’s pussy with each thrust of Steve’s hand.
“Oh – fuck,” Steve sounded desperate. The image shouldn’t have been so erotic, but here he was, hyper-fixating on the way the metal of Eddie’s ring gathered the juices of his sweet girl. And the jolt that sent to his cock was no joke. Precum leaked from its tip and landed on the sheet beneath his knees. Steve watched Rachel, and her fluttering lids, and her wet pussy, and Eddie’s ring.
It was like he was there with them – Eddie. A piece of him was. And Steve wasn’t sure why that was sending him into this frenzy. That’s why Steve took the ring in the first place, wasn’t it? So he could still feel close to Eddie when he wasn’t right there by his side. But Steve didn’t imagine this when he took it. He didn’t plan this. To fuck Rachel with Eddie’s ring on his finger, and surly not to focus on it the way that he was.
And now Steve was teetering on the edge, and he couldn’t stop his hand from fucking into his girlfriend, and he couldn’t stop his fist from fucking himself, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from watching the goddamn ring – like maybe it was Eddie’s hand that was touching her. And why did he like that thought so much? Because Rachel was his, not Eddie’s. Eddie wasn’t allowed to touch her, but fuck, it almost felt like he was and – oh fuck – the thought sent him reeling.
His fingers left Rachel’s pussy and he scissored them a couple of times to watch how the liquid there stretched from one to the other, connecting them. What a sight. With a grunt, Steve grabbed onto the flesh of her hip with his left hand, replacing the hand that stroked on his cock with his right. He could feel the wet of Rachel on his fingers wipe on his shaft as he caressed himself. And he could feel the metal of Eddie’s ring bump along the ridge near the leaking tip of his dick while he circled his fist there.
And when he looked at his hand pumping himself, that’s what did him in. If before it was like Eddie’s hand fucking into his girlfriend, now it was like Eddie’s hand fucking on his cock. It only made sense, didn’t it? If it was like Eddie was there, that meant that Eddie was stroking on Steve’s cock, and the thought made his orgasm rip through him in shuttering waves.
“Fuck! Fuck, E… – Rachel. Rae!” He said his girlfriend’s name as he spilled over her lower stomach. And no, he wasn’t about to say Eddie, of course he wasn’t. Steve might have let Eddie slip into his mind for a moment or two, but not enough that he would moan his name as he came over his girl, right? It wasn’t the thought of Eddie that made him cum so hard and so quick, was it? It was just the extra sensation of his ring. It was just the added visual, something different…
“Shit. Shit, sorry, Rae,” Steve huffed, out of breath after he rode his orgasm out to its fullest potential. “I don’t know what came over me. I just got so… I just got into my own head, and fuck, I couldn’t stop. It was so good.”
Rachel’s wide eyes sparkled. “It’s okay, babe. It’s a special night,” she said as she dragged one of her fingers through the mess on her abdomen. It was kind of hot, Steve thought, watching her play with his cum on her skin.
“Come here, I’m not done with you yet.” Steve grabbed her hips as he settled himself between her legs. He licked a stripe over her skin, catching some of his cum on his tongue and swallowing it down. Steve didn’t usually do that, but he wanted to taste it – salty, bitter, warm. He wondered if that’s what Eddie would taste like, too. The thought only fronted itself for a second before he shoved it away to wherever it came from.
Steve was good at eating pussy – the rumours about King Steve, in that sense, were true and he knew it, because every girl he’d been with, he would make cum. He could always bring them to their orgasm with a skilled flick of his tongue and a curl of his fingers and just enough suction over their clit to get it nice and swollen and sensitive. So that’s what he did for Rachel, and he had her screaming his name within five minutes of having his face shoved between her legs. When she came, she always dripped with her sweet juices and he loved to lick them down as they pooled on his tongue. It was that taste that he had remembered earlier – that taste of just Rachel that was his favourite.
In a perfect world, Steve would have actually fucked Rae the night he told her he loves her, but the world wasn’t perfect. But the good news was, even if he didn’t technically fuck her, they both came hard and it still felt amazing. They fell asleep quickly after in a tangle of arms and legs and hair. As Steve drifted off, he decided he might go see Eddie earlier than he’d originally planned. Maybe he would visit him twice tomorrow like he sometimes did. It felt like a good day to do that. Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow might be special, just like tonight was.
***
Eddie
It was weird that Eddie somehow felt like he could drift in and out of consciousness as if sleep was overtaking him. Even though consciousness was all Eddie was. It already felt like he was in a constant dream state. So why did he need to sleep? But as he woke from whatever trance he’d gone under – sleep or not – all he could focus on was Steve’s earlier visit. How long had it been? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time had no meaning to him in this place. Wherever it was he was trapped.
But over his time alone, Eddie had meditated and focused on just feeling. There wasn’t much more to do, especially after his tape had finished playing through and the nurse that he heard momentarily turned off the television that Steve so graciously left on for him. So once more he was left alone in the quiet, and he focused everything he had into finding himself.
Over the – hours? – he had located almost every part of his body, and if that didn’t feel like a huge accomplishment! In the real world, Eddie found it hard to focus. That’s why he did so bad at school. He wasn’t particularly dumb, he just had no drive, nothing to anchor him into actually learning and doing. But if there’s one thing he was now, it was anchored. So he focused, harder than he probably ever had in his entire 21 years, and he found himself. At least, he found himself enough.
He could feel his existence. There were his legs, straight out from his hips. There were his arms, one laying by his side and the other slightly bent to lay on his stomach. His stomach that he could feel rise and fall with each forced breath of the ventilator that was agonizing in his throat. His ears could pick up on the ticking of the clock overhead. Sometimes he though he felt an itch. But even though he had a good idea about where everything was, it was an entirely different prospect that he could do anything about it. Yeah, there were his arms, but no, he couldn’t move them. Not yet. But Eddie was nothing if not determined at this point.
After trying – desperately – to wiggle one of his fingers (the pinky finger – the one he just discovered he could feel) he heard the door to whatever room he was in open and close. Was it the nurse again? Here to mumble about how cluttered his side table was, and perhaps drop something that sounded important on the floor with a quiet curse as she tried to clear it off? That’s what she had done before. It annoyed Eddie, but he was disappointed nonetheless when she left him alone in his room after she was done checking in on him.
“Heya, Munson.”
Steve. Oh, fuck yes, it was Steve back to see him. Eddie located his heart as it hammered in his chest. Yeah, he was definitely still alive if his heart could move like that at something as simple as Harrington’s voice. The monitors sped up from their steady rhythm. Did Steve notice that, too? Eddie noticed right away – the beeping was one of the only constant sounds in his ears, so yeah, he noticed that it definitely changed its tempo.
“Whoa, Eddie…” Steve’s voice was closer, like he was standing close to wherever Eddie was laying. “You look…” What did Eddie look like? Did he not look exactly like he had last time Steve was with him? “You look so much better, man.”
What do you mean better, Harrington?
If Eddie could scoff, he would have. How could an unconscious, unmoving man look better? What had that nurse done to him?
Then, the warmth from yesterday – was it yesterday Steve was here to see him? Eddie thought so – was back. The tingle on Eddie’s skin let him know that Steve was touching him. Yesterday, Eddie hadn’t known for sure that the trail of warmth down his cheek was Steve’s fingertips, but today, right now, he knew. His cheek burned with Steve’s touch. So much more intense than before. Was it because he was more aware in his body? Was it because Eddie wanted Steve to touch him? Or was it maybe because Steve was pressing into the touch with more conviction than before?
Whatever it was, it felt nice. And Eddie leaned into it.
“There you are,” Steve must have only been a few inches from Eddie’s face. He must have been so close. It’s almost like he could feel Steve’s body heat radiating off him. It made Eddie want to squirm. “There’s those eyes, fluttering away. You’re in there, aren’t you, Eddie?”
Steve phrased it like a question, but it was more like a statement. Eddie was in there. Whatever he was doing, however he was reacting, it must have been right. Because it sounded like Steve knew. Whatever reaction Eddie had in the physical world told Steve that he was here – and he was trying to tell him that.
Yes, I’m in here!
His monitor made a louder sound – drawn-out and lower in pitch – than Eddie had heard it make yet. Weird.
“Eddie? Are you… What can I do? I feel like you’re so close, man. Am I wrong?” Another hot brush to Eddie’s cheek. Another irritating sound from the machinery. What was happening out there?
“There you are again!” Steve’s voice was a whisper, but its tone made it sound like he was screaming with excitement. “Is it… Is it when I touch you that helps?”
Eddie’s whole cheek went up in flames. Good flames. Much nicer than the flames he had felt when he was dying in the pits of hell. His heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe this was going too far. Would his heart give out under Harrington’s fingers? Who knows what kind of shape Eddie was in? Maybe his internal organs didn’t have the strength to go through such stressors.
“Do you like it when I touch your face, Munson?”
Shut up, man.
His heartrate monitor went haywire.
“Fuck – shit – you’re really in there, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” Steve’s voice was no longer humorous, it was breaking and torn from a different emotion. An opposite emotion. But even though he sounded broken, it came from something that was good. From knowing Eddie was here with him, even though he couldn’t react in a bigger way than a skip of his heartbeat or an (apparent) twitch of his eye.
Eddie could feel Steve’s touch move from his cheek downward. Steve’s hand must be cupping the side of his neck. And then further down, over the slope of his shoulder. A squeeze of his bicep, a comforting rub on his forearm, and then Steve’s hand made its way upwards again on the same path, back to his neck. It was unreal to think Harrington was actually here with Eddie, actually speaking to him, actually touching him. Steve actually wanted Eddie to be awake. Bizarre. But so, so welcome.
“Your eyes…”
What about his eyes? Where even were his eyes? Eddie realized that his eyes were one part of himself that he’d yet to discover. Where were his eyes and what were they doing to clue Steve in? A heat settled over the middle of his face. A gentle touch with quivering fingertips. Was it really Steve’s fingertips that twitched like that? Or was it Eddie? It was. It was Eddie that was moving under the tender touch of Steve’s fingers. His fluttering eyes, just as Steve said. And there they were. There were Eddie’s eyes, found with the help of Steve’s contact.
Eddie wasn’t sure if his entire body was trembling, but it sure felt like it was. Wherever he was, his whole being trembled. Trembled from Steve’s touch, his proximity, his voice, trembled from appeasement after getting closer to finding himself, trembled from anger that he just fucking couldn’t quite get there. He just wanted to get there. He just – just needed to get there, to see Steve leaning over him in the way Eddie knew he was. He needed to be in that moment with him. He found his eyes and if he could just open them. If he could just fucking open his eyes –
And all at once there was Steve. A blurry Steve. Was that in Eddie’s head or was he really seeing a blurry Steve? He tried to blink. There. That’s a little bit clearer. Yes, there was Steve hovering over Eddie in the way he knew he would be, eyes plastered on Eddie’s, mouth hanging open in – shock?
“W-what… What…” Steve leaned closer, as if he was the one having a hard time seeing. As if he was the one who hadn’t opened his eyes in God know how long. And then he fell backwards so fast - in a way that Eddie didn’t know was humanly possible. Steve fell backwards out of his chair, hitting the floor on his back with a thud, scrambling away from Eddie like he was a ghost, or a zombie. Maybe he was. After the things he’d seen, he wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the possibility. “N-NURSE! DOCTOR! GET A DOCTOR!”
Steve half-crawled half-ran to the door across the room and threw himself into the hallway to scream some more. Eddie couldn’t quite make out what he was saying out there. It was hard to focus. But Steve needed to be careful with his falling and stumbling and screeching, Eddie thought, or he would end up in a hospital just like he was. Because that’s where he was, in a stale white room of a hospital that was mostly empty besides his bed, Steve’s chair, a small table and a TV that sat in the corner of the room. A single window shone with light that irritated Eddie’s eyes. The eyes that he had just discovered and were now open.
In a flurry, his once quiet, black existence changed into one that was filled with nameless men and women dressed in seafoam green and white uniforms, crowding over him like he was the newest spectacle at Indianapolis Zoo. It was loud and bright, and the opposite of everything he was used to. He wished he could scream at them to fuck off, but the tube down his throat didn’t allow for it. He wasn’t sure he knew how to scream yet, anyway.
And then there was Steve in the farthest corner of the room, physically trembling in the way Eddie thought he had been earlier. He was bawling his eyes out like a toddler. Literally. His face was wet and red and puffy. His hair was erratic and wild atop his head, and sobs ripped from his diaphragm in agonizing gasps that rattled Eddie’s eardrums. If it hadn’t been so heartbreaking to see Steve like that, bent at the waist and clutching his stomach like he was in physical pain from his reaction, Eddie would probably be laughing. He’d have to store the image away for a later date when he wanted to screw with Harrington a little bit. Hey, remember that time you were sobbing in my hospital room? It seemed like some good blackmail to have on the guy.
The doctors said a bunch of words that Eddie couldn’t remember as soon as he heard them. They flashed a bright light into his eyes and asked him to follow it, and he thought he did a good job when he won himself a small smile from one of the nurses. It felt like he had passed a test. Take that high school geometry.
Although it was easier to recognize that not a whole day had passed, easier than when everything was black, he still didn’t know if it was a matter of one hour or four by the time the doctors cleared from the room. Steve was still there, eyes still wet and swollen, shocked in the corner of the room and not daring to come any closer. Eddie wished the doctors had removed the tubing from his throat, but they said it was too early and he was still too fragile. They needed to make sure he was stable enough before they disconnected him from anything potentially still keeping him alive. So, he couldn’t tell Steve to come take his place next to his side. He couldn’t say it, but he lulled his head to the side and captured the younger boy’s gaze, and that seemed to be enough.
Steve slowly made his way beside Eddie, sinking into the chair that still sat next to his bed. “Holy fuck, dude.”
Eddie blinked at him. Yeah, holy fuck is right. His whole body felt sore and stiff. Parts of him itched. But he didn’t feel ravaged anymore, at least, not completely. He had slept away a good chunk of his healing time. Three months, the doctor said. Pretty much exactly three months. Three months he’d never get back, but he wasn’t sure he wanted them back if he would have been writhing in his broken body. Maybe it was for the better.
“Munson?”
Eddie blinked at Steve. He was getting tired, but this was the reason he wanted to be awake, sitting right in front of him. Yes?
“Could you… hear me? Near the end it seemed like you were there with me. Could you hear me calling to you?”
Eddie traced his eyes over Steve’s face. God, he was so attractive. He hated that he was such a conformist in admitting that. Everyone thought Steve was attractive. So did Eddie. He nodded as best as he could to answer Steve’s question.
“I see,” Steve smiled. “I knew it.”
They stared at each other for a long time. Eddie wondered what might have been going through Steve’s mind in those moments. Eddie was just thinking about how surreal everything was. The coma, the memories, the touches, Steve. Everything.
“Did… did you feel me, too?”
Another shallow nod.
Eddie remembered earlier, before he had fully woken up, trying to wiggle his pinky finger. He tried again, and by some miracle it moved, along with a few other of his fingers. Steve looked down at his wiggling hand, then back up to Eddie’s eyes.
He moved his hand as close to Steve as he could get it, until his fingers hung from the side of the mattress, fingers outstretched towards the boy next to him. Come on, Harrington. Take the hint.
And he did. Steve reached out to wrap his fingers around Eddie’s. Finally, he relaxed, sighing in contentment. He looked down at their intertwined fingers. Something silver caught the light, glinting from the fluorescence above. Steve was wearing one of his rings. That did something to Eddie’s heart, sending the monitors beeping in the same annoying way they had been earlier. It looked good on him. He could keep it for a while.
King Steve, wearing my jewellery. Who would have thought?
As Steve pressed circles into the back of his hand, Eddie let himself drift into unconsciousness. He could only hope that wherever sleep led him, it wasn’t back to the black, quiet place he had just escaped from. He was greeted with pleasant dreams of Steve’s face and gentle touches. Only, in his dream, Eddie was awake to experience them all. He could only hope that that part of their friendship carried into whatever their future held. He could only hope that things wouldn’t change because Steve was his friend. He was comfort. He was home. And Eddie knew he needed that man in his life from that day onward.
Notes:
OMG Eddie’s awake. I’m excited to see him start interacting with Steve, more than just telepathically.
And Steve is definitely starting to learn why Eddie means so much to him, amirite?
This chapter’s song is based off Still of the Night by Whitesnake. Technically it wasn’t released until 1987 and Eddie and Steve are still very much in 1986, but I’m thinking in this AU maybe Whitesnake released it early. Yes, because I said so. It’s a fucking great song and Eddie would love it. I promise I'll try to stick to more authentic choices for the music pairings but OMG this song screams Eddie so I really just had to include it. Sorry sorry.
Chapter 3: Changes
Notes:
Lots of internal dialogue and narration, and lots of angst. Beware.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve
Eddie drifted to sleep as Steve drew abstract shapes on the back of his hand. With each breath, he could feel his lungs stuttering with the aftershocks of his sobs. Each time he had stopped crying it only took a few minutes before he started again. But now, it had been at least half an hour since the last onslaught of tears, and Steve could only hope that was the end.
When Eddie opened his eyes, it took Steve way too long to catch onto what was happening. He watched Eddie blink at him through a dazed gaze – eyes glossy and unfocused. But they were open, looking at Steve, focusing on him like he knew he would be there when he woke up. Like he knew and wanted Steve to be sat next to him when he finally, finally, came back to him.
Everything else was a haze. And now he was here, stroking Eddie Munson’s warm hand with his fingers like he did so many times before. Only this time, Eddie asked him to. Not in so many words. He asked him with pleading eyes and a reach of his hand. And the relief of that alone was enough to make tears start streaming down Steve’s cheeks for the hundredth time that day.
Over the few hours of Eddie being awake, so many thoughts, theories, anecdotes ran through Steve’s mind like a freight train headed for a cliff. He stared as the Doctors did their thing, with the lights and the pressure cuffs and the reading of charts and the medical terms and blah, blah, blah. He stared at Eddie who still had goddamn plastic shoved down his throat and he just wished he could ask him if they were friends, if Eddie wanted to be friends, because he couldn’t stand not knowing and he wondered if that was the day that everything was going to change. Everything that Steve had built up for them in his mind.
Eddie would steal glances at Steve every minute of every hour, as if he was making sure that he wouldn’t stray from that little corner of the room. At least, that’s what Steve hoped those glances meant. And of course, Steve wouldn’t leave. He was probably never going to leave again. He was going to live at that hospital until Eddie ripped that thing out of his lungs that stopped him from talking and said, ‘Steve, get the fuck out of here’. He might not even leave then.
The thing was, Steve was happy – elated – that Eddie had come back from the fucking dead. That’s everything he had wanted for months. It’s what clouded his mind every moment of every day and it’s what he dreamed about every time he dreamt something that wasn’t a fucking nightmare. But he was so used to how things were. Talking to Eddie while he slept. Pretending he was answering in his quippy little sarcastic voice. But now he was awake, and as much as Steve was relieved, and fuck was he ever relieved, he was also terrified. Absolutely, horrifyingly, frighteningly scared stiff. Because soon Steve wouldn’t be pretending Eddie was answering. Soon he really would be. And what if his answers weren’t what Steve always imagined them to be?
Steve was hysterical that Eddie might question why he was there in the first place. Steve imagined him saying, ‘we’re not friends Harrington, why are you hanging around?’ The thought nearly made him run to the bathroom to wretch. What if Eddie didn’t want Steve there? What if Steve was still King of Hawkins High to Eddie and nothing more? What if Eddie still saw him as the guy that stood idly by as his friends shoved Eddie into the lockers and tripped him in the cafeteria and stole his food that he probably couldn’t afford more of from his lunch tray? It made Steve sick to his stomach, because now Eddie was his best friend, and fuck King Steve, fuck being popular, fuck Tommy H., and fuck being prom king because none of that mattered. Eddie mattered. And what if Steve didn’t matter to Eddie?
Then when Eddie reached for his hand, when he said he had heard Steve calling to him, that he had felt Steve touching him, it eased Steve’s worries. Just a little bit. Enough to think, Eddie wants me here, at least for the moment. And Steve stayed there for what felt like forever, just holding onto Eddie’s fingers that now twitched and circled around his own as he slept. They never did that before Eddie was awake. But now he could move, and he reciprocated Steve’s touch, and that made Steve want to start sobbing all over again.
But there was something else that was eating away at Steve. Something else that was making him deeply uncomfortable. Something that he had been trying to suppress for the days, weeks, months he’s been feeling it. That there might be a deeper reason to why he’s so attached to Munson, why he’s so afraid of his rejection, why he so desperately wanted to look in his eyes once again and hear his voice and touch his skin. Why he had looked for Eddie in Rachel, who deserves to be seen as Rachel and not as Eddie, but fucking Steve was looking for him in her anyway.
It was because the love he felt for Eddie ran deeper than what he felt for his other friends. It was a different type of love. It’s not what he felt for the kids or for Robs. It was a yearning. It was what he felt towards Rachel. But now, as he sat on the uncomfortable rolling chair next to Munson’s bed, he didn’t know if what he felt for Rae was real. Maybe he had tricked himself into thinking she was just a female extension of Munson. And it was so fucked up because he loves Rachel, but shit, here he was pining over a fucking man and how could he love Rachel when Eddie was all he could think about? How could he pretend he hadn’t thought about Eddie last night while he was supposed to be being intimate with Rae? It was such a violation, and the fact that Steve did that made him want to vomit.
Steve wasn’t sure what his feelings towards Munson meant – he had never experienced anything like it before. He always liked girls, never once thinking about touching or holding another man in his 19 years on this planet. He liked the way girls smelled like coconut or vanilla, and how when he made them laugh their giggles sounded like windchimes, and he liked the way they had soft hair and pink lips and soft bodies.
Steve looked at Eddie. He also liked the way Eddie laughed. It wasn’t like windchimes, but it was like a low vibration that gathered in the pits of Steve’s stomach. He liked the way he teased him whenever he got the chance. Steve reached up and thumbed with a few curly locks of Eddie’s hair as he slept. Eddie also has soft hair, Steve noticed. Eddie also has pink lips. His hands trembled. He wanted to touch him further. Did Eddie also have a soft body? For once Steve let his mind wander without trying to shove the intrusive thoughts away. He needed to see how he responded to them. He needed to see if he liked it when he thought about Eddie. So, for once, he let himself.
He thought about the man who still clung to his hand. He thought about touching him in a way that was more than a friend. He thought about what he might feel like under his fingertips, beyond the skin of his cheek or his hands. Eddie’s body was slim, he knew that much. Steve wondered what might be under his shirt. Was Eddie soft? Did he have that little soft bump on his lower stomach that Steve loved seeing when he took off a girl’s top? Or was he toned, muscular like Steve? Would he be hard under his fingers? Would Eddie have body hair like Steve did? The thought made him shift uncomfortably in his seat.
He pictured Eddie lifting his shirt over his head. A shirt that had some stupid band that sounded more like kicking a bunch of tin cans than actual music. The shirt would fall to the ground, and Steve would let his gaze linger on the man before him. Would he have a tuft of hair over his chest, or would he be mostly bare? Would he have a trail of hair that led from his navel down, down, down below his leather belt and into his black jeans? Could Steve run his fingers through that little trail? Could he follow it with his tongue?
He shivered, swallowing hard. Yeah, he was reacting like he always feared he would. His jeans felt a little too tight as blood rushed to his cock at the simple thought of seeing Eddie with one less layer of clothing, the thought of touching him, of Eddie letting Steve touch him.
Fuck, Steve was gay.
That’s what this meant, wasn’t it? Steve liked men, at least he liked Eddie Munson, and Eddie Munson was a man, and Steve wanted to fucking touch him and kiss him and undress him, and it was all just too overwhelming. Too frustrating. Too frightening. Steve’s whole life seemed like a sham; everything he ever felt for anyone seemed invalid. Had everything with Nancy not been real? Was everything he had with Rachel not real?
Tears gathered on his rims, and they didn’t take long to spill over once again, following the wet trail that must have been becoming permanently etched into the skin on his face by now. River valleys were probably forming. Steve needed to stop thinking about things that made him want to cry.
As if by some grace of God, or maybe a curse, the door behind Steve swung open, allowing the voices from the hall to spill into the room. It wasn’t super loud, but Steve jumped out of his skin anyway. He turned to see Eddie’s uncle, covered in dirt and wearing overalls, husting towards his sleeping nephew.
“Oh – shit – hi, Wayne.” Steve had met Eddie’s uncle a few times before. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he graciously allowed Steve into his home when he had asked if he could gather some things to take to the hospital. A few times, their paths had crossed in the halls as they were visiting Eddie, and they would exchange quick pleasantries before the other would take off. They never lingered around each other for too long.
Wayne stood by Steve, eyeing his and his nephew’s intertwined fingers. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Steve felt his cheeks heat under the gaze of Eddie’s uncle. He felt like he was being discovered, even though he was sure it wasn’t such a shocking sight to see two people of the same gender holding hands in a place like a hospital. Regardless, he tore his hand away from his sleeping friend.
“Sorry – uh – sorry, you can sit, sir.” Steve stood ungracefully and pushed the chair towards Wayne.
“What’re you sorry for,” he huffed, before twisting the chair and taking a seat next to Eddie’s feet. Steve didn’t answer him, instead taking a step towards Wayne and giving him a pat on the shoulder when he noticed the man’s eye’s brimming with water. At least Steve wasn’t the only one who was being emotional, but admittedly, he was a lot worse. “I can’t believe my boy is awake. I was startin’ to lose hope.”
Wayne had never tried to get into any type of conversation with Steve, so it rattled him slightly that after the months of ‘good mornings’ and ‘good nights’ that today he was opening with something so… vulnerable.
“I was too, sir. I still feel like I might be dreaming.” Steve sounded like he had been through the ringer, and really, he had. Wayne gave him a questioning glance, as if to say, ‘what in the hell is wrong with you?’ But then he stood, took a step towards Steve, and wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders. Steve shyly returned the man’s hug, and it lasted longer than he imagined a hug with Eddie’s uncle could ever last, but it was nice. Comforting. Like hugging a father that loves you. Not that Steve knew well what that felt like.
They finally parted after what felt like forever, though it was probably only a matter of seconds. That was forever in the scheme of how much time Steve and Wayne had ever actually been in each other’s company.
“I don’t – uh – I’m gonna go make a phone call,” Steve said, taking a few steps backwards. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Eddie’s uncle looked like he wanted to say something more, but Eddie stirred in his bed, head lulling to the side and eyes blinking away the harsh white lighting. Steve slipped out before he could notice him standing by the door. He didn’t know if he could handle an awake Eddie Munson in his current state.
With a deep breath, Steve headed to the nearest pay phone. He glanced at a clock on the wall – 3:10pm. He had been at the hospital for over six hours, and worse, he was supposed to pick up Rachel for lunch at 1 o’clock which he was only now remembering. By the looks of it, he missed by a long shot.
“Shit.”
He found a row of phones down a quiet hall, popping in a couple of quarters into the slot and dialing the number he knew by heart. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He just knew that he was torn, that what he was doing to Rachel was wrong even though it felt so right, and maybe –
“Hello?”
“Hey – hi – Rae,” Steve rushed, trying to tell her why he’d missed their date before she could yell at him. Not that she would. Rachel never yelled. “Rae, I’m so fucking sorry, but Eddie’s awake. Eddie is awake, Rachel.” He was crying again. It was the first time he had said it aloud. It made it feel real.
There was silence on the other end that screamed louder than any words ever could.
After a while, “oh – oh my God, Steve!” Rachel’s voice cracked. “Oh my God, Steve. Oh my God. Are you still there? At the hospital?”
“Y-yes,” Steve could barely get a word out. Fuck, he was wrecked. His eyes probably wouldn’t deflate for a week after this.
“I’m coming, okay? Can you meet me by the main entrance, babe?” He didn’t deserve her.
“Yeah, yes.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Steve could hear rustling as Rae scurried around her apartment. He could only nod into the phone as the sound of jingling keys played in the background of their conversation. “Steve?”
“I-I’m here,” he sniffled. There was a pause on the other end.
“I love you,” Rachel’s voice was soft, sincere. But it hung in the air like a question.
Steve held his breath as he reached out and pressed down the receiver. Maybe, if it came up – which he doubted it would – he could blame it on the pay phones.
***
Rachel
A bitter taste rested on Rachel’s tongue as she drove to the hospital from the opposite side of town.
Why didn’t Steve say he loved her back? Was last night a mistake? Were the words he spoke only induced by the hormones of sex? He had seemed so genuine, so sure, but now she was questioning how she remembered the exchange. Maybe she just wanted to think it was real. This was why you should never say ‘I love you’ during sex, she thought.
Before she even parked her car – a little red Mercury Topaz with matching velure seats – she could see Steve leaning against the brick of the building, next to the entrance, sucking back a cigarette with intentionally deep inhales. Steve rarely smoked. That’s how Rachel first knew he must not be feeling… his best.
She rushed from the vehicle, slamming the door a little too hard as she jogged through the lot and across the street to her boyfriend. “Hey, babe.” She held her arms open as Steve kicked off from the wall to face her.
“Hey.” His voice was raw, and as she looked into his eyes, she could tell right away that he’d been crying – heavily – and for a good while. He returned her hug briefly before leaning away again.
“How are you feeling?” She already knew by the way he looked, but there was a second meaning to her question. How are you feeling about us? Of course, Steve didn’t pick up on that.
“Drained, weak, exhausted. Happy. So fucking happy.”
Rachel knew what Eddie meant to her boyfriend. In the beginning stages of their relationship, he was hesitant to talk about his friend, knowing that most of the town still associated Eddie with a murdering low grade. If he told the wrong person that he had a soft spot for the town freak, it could be detrimental to the relationship. It could even be dangerous. But Rachel never fed into any of the rumours about Eddie.
Eddie, as strange and boisterous as he was, had never been dangerous. He had never even thrown punches back at the school bullies who would so often go out of their way to torture the boy. Yes, he liked loud music, had tattoos and long hair, wore jewellery in the shape of handcuffs or brass knuckles or knives. But no, he was never dangerous. He spent his time plucking his ringed fingers on the strings of his guitar if the band room happened to be empty or played a fantasy role-playing game with a bunch of fourteen-year-olds. As loud as he could be, it was a front, Rachel thought. It was a dare so people would see him as a freak and nothing more. He leaned into it – a façade – so nobody could get a glimpse of the real Eddie Munson. But Rachel liked to think she saw him once or twice.
“I am too, Steve.”
She tried reaching for Steve’s hand, but her boyfriend didn’t even notice. He had already turned towards the entrance of the hospital, pulling on the door and holding it open so Rachel could slip inside. She tried to hide her outstretched arm – she didn’t know why. It was like she felt embarrassed that she was trying to hold his hand, even though they had done it tens of dozens of times in public before. They were an official couple, so why did she feel like this? Like everything up until now had been a figment of her imagination? Maybe it was because Steve seemed to be having a hard time looking at her. Had he even made eye contact once since she arrived? Her stomach twisted.
“Come on, let’s say hi. I think he’s awake again,” Steve said, placing a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to guide her to an elevator. At least she got that much.
They didn’t exchange many words on their way to Eddie’s room. Steve’s mind seemed to be elsewhere as he zoned off into the air in front of him. It had been an emotional day and Rachel tried to understand. She didn’t say much herself, afraid that the words would get caught in her throat from the fear she was suddenly feeling around him.
She finally broke the silence. “Did you tell the kids that Eddie is awake?”
They strolled down the hall. Eddie’s room was only a few doors away. Rachel remembered from the few times she had accompanied Steve on his visits to the hospital.
“Yeah, I called Henderson a few minutes after I called you.” A smile played on the corners of Steve’s lips. “I could barely understand him, he was freaking out so bad. Of course. But, yeah, he’ll be able to radio the other twerps. I’m sure they’ll all be over to see him soon.”
He hesitated outside of the closed door that would lead him to Eddie. Rachel wasn’t sure why – she knew how much Steve had wanted his friend to come back to him and it was like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself now that he had. She reached out herself to turn the nob, and pushed the door in.
A doctor stood over Eddie, writing on a clipboard as he read some numbers from the blood pressure cuff that pressed into the metalhead’s arm. When the door opened, all eyes turned their way – the doctor, a man who Rachel could only assume was Eddie’s Uncle, and Eddie himself, whose eyes lit up when they landed on her boyfriend.
“Harrington,” Eddie croaked. His voice was rough, and it sounded like it probably hurt to talk.
“Dude! They took all the tubes out of your throat!” Steve rushed to his friend’s side with a grin plastered on his face for the first time since Rachel got there. It warmed her heart – only a little.
Eddie nodded as the doctor scolded him with a look, “Now, Mr. Munson, don’t go over-using your voice, like we talked about, okay? Don’t make me regret unhooking you this early.” Eddie just gave him a charming smile. His lips stretched over his teeth – they looked chapped and raw from the months they had been wrapped around a mouthpiece.
The doctor left the room as Rachel and Steve found their way to the newly empty space near the head of his bed. Wayne stood from the only chair, rolling it towards Steve, and mumbled some generic excuse about going to get coffee. He was obviously trying to give Eddie and his friend some space. Rachel almost wondered if she should do the same, but Eddie turned his head towards her and captured her eyes with his intoxicating gaze.
“Stanley, right?” Her cheeks heated. She always noticed how Steve would greet his friends with their last names and they would call Steve ‘Harrington’ right back. It felt like she had been accepted into the group when they did the same for her. It was like a term on endearment. She nodded, shocked that Eddie even knew who she was. “Thanks for the tape.”
Eddie leaned his head towards the table where a small tape deck was placed. The Black Sabbath tape she had recommended sat inside of it. She gave Steve a questioning look – his eyes seemed bewildered – but Eddie spoke before either of them could.
“Harrington told me you picked it.”
Steve’s face turned red as he blushed, “Jesus, you really could hear me?”
Eddie only winked at him, before he licked at his cracked lips with a wince.
“Eddie? Your lips look sore. Here,” Rachel fumbled in her bag until she found her lip balm. It was a pricey one that she had picked up from the pharmacy – medicated to help her chronically dry lips in the winter. Eddie looked like he needed it more than she did. She made a mental note to pick up a new one when she could. “Do you mind?”
Eddie shook his head as she unscrewed the lid to the ointment. She scooped up a small pile on the tip of her finger – more than she would normally apply on herself – and leaned towards the man who looked so helpless on his hospital bed. She smiled – she never thought she would see Eddie Munson of all people looking so young. So soft. She spread the balm over Eddie’s lips with a gentle finger, trying not to irritate the already chafed skin. He hummed; eyes fluttering shut as she worked. It must have been a relief.
When she leaned back, she noticed Steve staring with wide eyes and jaw slack at her finger, then Eddie’s lips, then back to her finger. “Steve? Are you okay?”
Her voice seemed to snap him back into reality. She wondered where he had gone. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, all good.”
The rest of the visit went swimmingly. Rachel was pleased that she and Eddie got on so well – although part of her always knew they would. Mostly Steve and Eddie would chat, and she tried not to interject, but they both made sure they included her in the conversation even though she was technically the outsider. She noticed how Steve leaned into Eddie and Eddie would grasp at Steve’s hands in return. She knew Steve and Eddie were friends, but she hadn’t known how close they were – physically. She was under the impression that they hadn’t known each other long, but something in their body language told her that she must have that wrong.
Eventually, Eddie’s voice faded from overuse, and he could no longer quip back at Steve’s jokes. His eyes grew heavy and Rachel and Steve both knew it was time for them to leave.
They said their goodbyes, Steve squeezing Eddie’s arm and promising to come back bright and early tomorrow as he did.
As Rachel and Steve headed to the parking lot, Rachel tried for Steve’s hand one more time. He let her embrace him this time, sending her a meek smile as she did, but his fingers didn’t seem to lace with hers as tightly as they usually did. Instead, they barely grazed the back of her hand for the few moments it took to get to her car, and he let go as soon as they arrived.
“So… are you coming over tonight?” Rachel was afraid of what the answer might be. Honestly, she whole-heartedly believed it would be a resounding ‘no’ after how distant Steve had acted all afternoon. That’s why it shocked her when he agreed.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you there, alright? I’ll pick up some food first, it’s past dinner time.” He squeezed her shoulder and she could only nod at him before she got into the driver’s seat of her car.
She watched in here rear-view mirror as he made his way over to his BMW a couple of rows away from where she was parked –getting into his own vehicle, turning the ignition, skillfully reversing, and driving until she could no longer see him. Her heart hammered in her chest. This was the first time that she felt insecure in her relationship, and she couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen.
_______
Rachel waited for Steve in her small white living room, perched on her even smaller grey couch. She had changed out of her daytime clothes when she got home, replacing jeans for a pair of sweats that had been cut into shorts, and a red cotton camisole. She twiddled with her thumbs, lost in thought, not bothering to turn on the TV that was kitty-corner to where she sat. Honestly, she could have used the distraction. But soon the intercom buzzed on her wall, and she ran to press the unlock button without answering.
Steve let himself in from the hallway, gingerly shutting the door behind him without turning the lock. He didn’t remove his shoes at the front door like he normally did. He didn’t take off his jacket. He walked into the living room and sat on one of the empty pillows of her couch, setting the white plastic back that smelled of Chinese food onto the glass top of the coffee table. He didn’t speak a word. There were a lot of things that Steve didn’t do that day.
Rachel’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t eaten all day, but she wasn’t hungry in the slightest. In fact, she was suddenly nauseous. “Steve?”
His eyes found hers. They were still swollen. Red. She wondered if that was remnants from earlier that afternoon, or if perhaps new tears had been spilled on his drive to her place.
“Rachel…” His tone was pleading.
“No,” she knew what was coming. She knew with everything she had what was coming, so she shook her head and told him no as if that would somehow stop whatever words were about to leave Steve’s lips.
“I’m so sorry, Rae. I – I can’t do this right now.” Steve’s eyes glistened in the evening sun filtering through the glass doors that lead to her balcony. He wasn’t looking at her. Of course he wasn’t. He’d barely been able to look at her all day.
A sob ripped from her chest. Everything she feared had been confirmed and she didn’t have weeks or even days to prepare for it, she only had hours. Even that morning Steve had whispered sweet nothings into her ear and held her close. But here he was, ending everything so quickly that it was sure to give her whiplash.
“Why, Steve?” She spoke between her sobs when she could. “What changed?”
Steve rubbed his face with his hands, capturing the tears that rested on his cheeks. “I-I don’t know. I just… I can’t be what you need. I’m not what you deserve. Trust me. Trust me, Rae.”
Rachel stood, unable to stay seated as every emotion swelled in her chest. Dejection. Fear. Confusion. Rage. It was all too much.
“That’s… that’s bullshit, Steve!” His brows furrowed and his mouth hung open. He finally looked in her eyes, flickering from one to the other. He had the audacity to look hurt. “You said you love me, just last night. Or was that all bullshit, too?”
The truth was, Rachel knew what she was doing. Steve had confided in her about his only other serious relationship. About how Nancy Wheeler had broken his heart after saying everything they had was bullshit. She even knew that he sometimes had nightmares about it, which had made her jealous at first, but Steve told her that everything he had felt for Nancy was gone, but the trauma from it remained. So she knew what Steve would feel when she spewed her words at him. But she wanted him to hurt, if only a fraction of how much she was hurting.
“N-No, it wasn’t,” Steve reached out with his hand, but Rachel took a step back from him. He didn’t get to hold her. Not now. Not ever.
“So, what, you’re saying you do love me?”
“I… I thought I did, Rae! I thought I did but… but…”
“But what, Harrington?”
“I’m – I’m confused!”
“What the hell are you confused about?”
“Myself!”
An angry laugh tore from Rachel’s lungs. “Rich! ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ right? Is that the bullshit you’re going with, Harrington?”
“It is me, Rae! I think – I’m –”
“No, you know what? Save it, Steve. Save it for someone who cares.” Rachel did care. She cared a lot – too much – but she didn’t want Steve to know that. The walls that she thought Steve tore down were now back up, taller and stronger than ever. She wouldn’t make the mistake of letting anyone past them again. Maybe not ever. “Get out of here.”
“Wait – Rae – I want to talk –”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Steve! Get out! Get out of my house!”
Steve stood for a few more seconds frozen in place. Then Rachel saw his body slump as he accepted her words. He wiped the tears from his face with the backs of his hands once more as he walked to the doorway, turning one last time to see if Rachel might change her mind. She didn’t. Steve slipped through the door without another word, closing it behind him, and leaving her in the deadly quiet of her apartment, alone.
A few minutes ticked, and when she was sure Steve would be far enough away, she broke down and let herself sob. She cried harder than she had since she was a child, harder than she ever had with previous breakups, even harder than she had than when her favourite grandpa had died the year before. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, the heart that she thought Steve had put together again. But here it was, worse than before he had bulldozed his way into her life.
Rachel left the food on the table to rot as she found her way into her bed. The pillow smelled like Steve – of course it would – and she let herself cling to it as she realized that smell would now only be a memory. She cried until the bitter hours of the night, until sleep consumed her, and even in her dreams she wept for her lost love.
Notes:
I promise, if you’ve read this far, that the story will get more fun very soon. There’ll still be angst but were gonna start adding a lot more drama, sex, parties, drinking, and drugs. (Don’t do all these things, just read about them.)
Today’s chapter's music pairing is Changes by Black Sabbath. I think it’s very fitting for Steve and Rachel’s POV. Heartbreaking lyrics. Slow tempo. Very different for Sabbath but man, what a song. Imagine Steve listening to one of Eddie’s tapes and coming across this track. He’d probably cry. Again.
Chapter 4: Bohemian Rhapsody
Notes:
A little Robin, a little smut, and a little bit of body worship if you squint. In a way. Kind of.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Steve
Steve waited out front of Family Video for Robin to get off her shift.
His eyes – just as he suspected – were still puffy. Still red. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t woken up in the early hours of the morning to shed a few more tears. The fact that he even had more tears to shed perplexed him. But shed they did, until he drifted off once more in his empty bed that was too big. His empty room that was too big. His empty house that was too big.
He craved the coziness of the small apartment he was so fond of. Rae’s small apartment. But instead, he was banished – by his own doing – to his too big house, and now here he was, the next day, dazed out from all the events that had unfolded in such a short amount of time. Events he didn’t expect in his wildest dreams.
Robin pushed the glass doors of the shop open and spotted Steve waiting in his car, before turning back to wave her goodbye to Anna – their only other co-worker. Steve was glad that today of all days, he wasn’t working. There was no way he would be of any help to anyone in his current state.
She swung the car door open, throwing herself into the passenger seat and tossing her tote bag into the back with a clatter. Several VHS tapes rattled from the top; Steve noticed Pretty in Pink and The Money Pit amongst the others that were now strewn face-down on the carpet. Rob must have been stocking up on movies for the weekend, using the good ol’ employee discount to her favour.
Steve began to scold her. “Rob, watch where you toss your stuff –”
“Je-sus Stevie, you look like absolute shit,” Robin laughed, but her tone sounded serious.
“Yeah, well, thanks for that. Nice to see you, too.” Steve rolled his eyes. He knew what he looked like. He knew Robin would notice. And he knew she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from pointing it out.
If Steve was being completely honest with himself, he counted on all of that. He needed to talk to Robin about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours – internally and externally. If anyone might understand his confusion, it would be her. Yes, he counted on Robin to point out his haggard appearance because Steve didn’t know how to start the conversation himself. He didn’t know if he could start it himself.
“I heard about Eddie. Nancy called me right after Mike told her. That’s totally why you look like Satan’s asshole, right Steve? Nancy told me that you were there, like, the second he opened his eyes. Like, holy shit. No wonder.”
“Satan’s asshole? For Christ’s sake Robin, easy on the flattery. It might go to my head.” Steve pulled out of the lot, turning towards his house instead of Robin’s.
Her eyes flickered from the side of Steve’s face, down the street they were headed, and then back again. “Uh, dingus, I know you’re not like, the smartest cookie, but I thought you knew by now where I live?” Steve could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face but didn’t bother meeting her stare. He knew what expression she’d be wearing, and he’d rather not be looked at like he had two heads.
“Keep it up, Robin. You’re about five words away from the taxi service being revoked.” He glanced at her for only a moment to see that she pressed her lips together in a straight line, like she physically had to stop herself from making another wisecrack. “We’re going to my house. Is that okay? I thought – well, I thought maybe we could talk. I just need to talk, if that’s alright.”
One thing Steve had come to learn about Robs was that no matter how much she pestered him, she always was there to lend some advice. The quality of said advice varied greatly.
Robin’s eyes went soft as she reached over and squeezed at his arm, “of course that’s alright, Stevie. It sounded like yesterday was a lot. Were you really there? When he woke up?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I was there. It was surreal Robs, I could feel that it was about to happen, you know? Like, his cheeks were more pink than ever, like whatever was going on inside of his head was thawing him out, and then BAM –” Steve hit the steering wheel for effect “– his eyes just opened and there he was, just like I remembered him.”
“Phew, shit,” Robin huffed out, “yeah. That calls for looking – well – I don’t want to say it because I really want said taxi service to remain. But I would too. Be looking…” She gestured over Steve with both of her hands, like that was enough of an explanation.
Steve hung his jaw in mock offense. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Nope, sorry. If word-vomit was diagnosable, I’d be like, the face of the disease. They’d probably name it after me. Oh, you have Buckley Syndrome? What a shame.”
Steve couldn’t help but laugh. That’s why he loved hanging out with Robin so much – he always ended up laughing. No matter what type of depression pit he may be in, it was always Robin that tore him out of it.
He pulled into his empty driveway just as their laughter was dying down. His driveway was always empty these days – after the ‘earthquake,’ his parents had purchased a condo in the city and spent most of their time there. At first there was idle talk about selling their home (much to Steve’s horror), but they quickly dropped it when they realized the resale value of their property had plummeted significantly after the town had been shredded into quarters. They visited twice the first month after they moved, and once the second month. The third month only involved a fifteen-minute phone call that mostly consisted of Steve’s father asking if he was taking care of the house properly.
Robin threw herself out of the car after scrambling backwards in her seat to gather the films that were littered across the back of Steve’s BMW. He leaned across the hood until she closed the door, locking up and leading her across the walkway. The lull in the conversation was as perfect a time as any, Steve thought. He fumbled with his keys as his hands shook, unsure he would be able to get the words out.
With squeezed eyes, he bucked up and spat it out. “Rae and I broke up last night, Robs.”
Steve knew that he wasn’t the only one who had been completely enamoured with Rachel when he introduced her to the group shortly after they had met. She fit right into their little band of misfits and somehow it seemed like she was a missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle. She quickly became good friends with the whole group, but especially Robin, who now considered her best friend material. Steve’s split with Rae would be hard on not only them, but everyone else they cared about.
“Steve, oh my God, what?” Robin said, incredulous. Steve couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. Instead, he persisted – without success – to line up the key with the keyhole as his fingers continued to tremble.
A soft hand reached out and wrapped around his wrist, grounding him, soothing him. He could feel his teeth chatter together as nervous tremors ran up his spine. “And it was bad, Robs. It was really bad.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Robin whispered, coaxing Steve into a loose embrace, “it’s okay, Stevie. I’m here. Everyone is here for you, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”
Steve held his breath, trying desperately to stop himself from breaking down. And only when he was confident that he’d no longer start sobbing once again did he allow himself air.
Robin grabbed the keys out of his loose grasp and unlocked the front door herself, leading her friend to sit at the dining room table as she poured him a glass of cold water from the kitchen faucet. “What happened, Steve?” She kept her voice quiet, as if to comfort him. It didn’t really help.
Steve wasn’t sure how to answer because nothing had really happened. Nothing had happened besides Steve’s all-encompassing thoughts about his male best friend, and that was enough to derail everything he had built with who he assumed was the love of his life.
Instead, Steve answered the question with a different question, barely pushing the words past his lips in a tone so low it couldn’t even be described as a whisper. “How did you know you like girls, Robs?”
Robin stared down at Steve in confusion until a light sparked behind her eyes. She nodded her head gently and lowered herself onto the chair opposite Steve, reaching out to lace her fingers through one of his hands that rested atop the table. “Well, for me, I guess I always knew. I remember being in the toy store with my mom, and she told me I could pick a new doll for my birthday. She held up a Ken doll and said, ‘if you get him, you can make them hold hands and go on dates!’ And I just remember thinking, I don’t want Barbie to go on dates with Ken. So, I picked another Barbie doll instead.”
Steve contemplated the story for a moment. “So… you always knew?”
“I guess, yeah. But that’s not always the case. Not for everyone.”
“It’s not?” Steve looked up at her with eyes so full of fear, so full of uncertainty and despair.
He felt Robin squeeze his hand encouragingly, “No, it’s not. Sometimes it sneaks up on you from out of nowhere. It can be kind of jarring when that happens, or so I hear.”
Steve could only nod as tears welled up in his already swollen rims. Robin looked into his eyes as if she could read him like a book. As if she could feel everything he was feeling. Maybe she had at one point. Maybe she could see a shadow of herself within him. Maybe she knew what it felt like to have everything you know about the world come crashing down around your feet. If anybody knew, it was her.
“Oh, Steve…” She tilted her head, asking a question with nothing but a silent expression.
“I think I’m gay, Robs.”
Suddenly, sobs were tearing through Steve’s chest once more, as if he hadn’t cried enough. It was like he was being punished by some higher power. Maybe he was.
Robin gathered him into another hug, but this one was tight, as if she was connecting them into one being. One being that understood what it meant to go against what was always taught as correct. One being that could stand being a social pariah, so long as it never disconnected. One being that had the strength to move forward in a world that rejected it.
“It’s okay, Stevie. It’s okay.” She rubbed soothing circles into Steve’s back as he tried to calm himself. “Can you tell me how you figured this out?”
Nerves caused bile to raise in the back of Steve’s throat in a bout of nausea, but he quickly swallowed it down. Robin was a safe place, and he knew anything he told her would be kept confidential. “I have feelings for Eddie.”
It felt weird to say the words aloud so quickly after he admitted them to himself. If you had asked Steve two days ago, he would have still been in total denial.
“Aww, Stevie, that’s so cute!” Robin grinned, but quickly contorted her face back into a serious expression when she saw the daggers Steve was throwing at her with his gaze. “Uh – sorry, never mind. So, you have feelings for Eddie, and you realized you don’t have feelings for Rachel?”
Steve slung his head into his hands, exasperated. “That’s the thing. Somehow, I tricked myself all these years into thinking I liked girls. I really thought I liked them! I thought I loved Nance. I thought I loved Rachel. Shit, I still do. I still feel like I love her, but how can that be the case if I’m gay?”
“Steve,” Robin said slowly, “you know you don’t have to be strictly one or the other, right?”
He lifted his head questioningly, “what do you mean?”
“You don’t have to be just gay, or just straight, Steve. You can like both.” Robin’s brow furrowed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.
“You… can?”
“Yeah, Stevie. It’s called bisexual. Bi – like two. Two genders, men and women. Bisexual. Like David Bowie!”
“I thought David Bowie was just gay?”
“No, he was misquoted in an interview which said he was gay, but later he corrected it and said he was bisexual, he… – no, you know what? It doesn’t matter. What does matter, Stevie, is that it’s totally possible that you can like both boobies and… weenies.”
Steve scrunched his face up and pushed Robin’s hand away from his. “Gross, Robin! Don’t say weenies!”
“You like Eddie, and Eddie has a weenie. What else do you want me to call it, Steve? Do you want me to say you like d –”
“No!” Steve clamped his hands over his ears. “Lalalalala… I’m not listening! I’m not listening to your nasty weenie talk!”
He could see, but not hear, Robin rolling with laughter across from him. A smile sprung onto his face, and he let himself laugh along with her for a long while until a good kind of tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
Robin stood, patting Steve’s back, strolling into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of orange juice from the fridge, before making her way back to his side. “So, do you think that might be the case, Steve? Do you think you could like both boobies and weenies?”
He thought about it for a moment, but for the first time in twenty-four hours things finally felt like they were falling into place. Things felt right. Not fixed, not easy, but right.
“I think that’s it, Robs. I think I’m… I’m bisexual.”
“Hell, yeah, you are!” she held her hand out for a high-five, but Steve just stared at it and shook his head. “No? Too soon? Yeah, okay, too soon.” She let her hand fall limp next to her side once more.
“Do you think I made a mistake, Robin? Breaking up with Rae? Maybe if I’d waited until talking to you, we could have stayed together.” Steve’s voice hitched with strangled emotion.
“I don’t know,” Robin said. “Maybe you could have stayed together as you figured yourself out. But maybe it was still a good thing, you know? You’re going through some major self-discovery right now and sometimes you’re going to want to experiment with new things to see if they feel right. If you stayed with Rachel, you wouldn’t be able to explore.”
Steve sighed, “I don’t really want to explore with anyone other than…”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah. And fuck, what if he’s straight Robs? What if he’s like, straighter than an arrow? How do I know if he’s just my friend or if he’s into more?”
This seemed to strike a chord with Robin. Her eyes went sad for a moment. “Ah, the age-old question.”
Suddenly, everything Robin had struggled with for the last year came crashing into perspective. Steve’s gut clenched at the realization. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you know what they say.” Robin eased back into her playful mood, a smile teasing the edges of her mouth.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
***
Eddie
“Shit. Fuck.”
Eddie had swung his legs over the edge of his mattress, sick and tired of feeling incapacitated. But now tubes pulled uncomfortably everywhere – even in some unmentionable areas – which Eddie hadn’t thought through before attempting his great escape. If that wasn’t enough, the flesh of his stomach throbbed where he assumed the worst of his wounds laid, but he was yet to see them. His shoulders screamed in pain, seized from the months of not being used. No, he really hadn’t thought this through, and now he wasn’t sure he could get himself back into a laying position.
That’s when Steve poked his head through the door.
“Jesus, dude!” He dropped a bag of what looked like groceries by his feet and scurried next to Eddie, who threw him his best dopey grin after getting caught. Steve panicked above him, arms outstretched but not touching anything as the monitors beeped in an increasing rhythm overhead.
“Evening, Harrington. Welcome back to my humble abode.” Eddie tried to stabilize himself as he felt his shoulders wobble. It sucked to be so weak.
Steve clamped down on Eddie’s swaying frame. “And where exactly do you think you’re going, Munson?”
“Well, if you must know, I was considering taking a stroll over to the arcade. I’m curious if anyone’s managed to beat my high score on Ms. Pac-Man. Care to join me?” Eddie could feel Steve’s grip tighten on his shoulders. It was painful, but somehow in a welcoming way. He wanted him to squeeze harder.
“In your dreams, man. Back to bed you go.” Steve gestured to the single pillow that laid near the head of the small mattress.
Eddie’s face fell by the smallest fraction. “That’s, uh, the problem. I don’t think I can get back up.” He avoided eye contact with the man in front of him, ashamed that he couldn’t do the simplest of tasks.
“Shit, why didn’t you just say so?” Steve didn’t hesitate to hook his arm under both of Eddie’s legs and guide him back up onto the mattress. Eddie was hyper-aware of his bare legs against Steve’s arm, and he felt his face heating up at the touch.
He tried to push his blushing and his shame to the side. “My hero! My knight in shining armor! King Steve!” He could feel Steve chuckle as he continued to move Eddie into a more comfortable position. “I make a good damsel in distress, don’t I Harrington? Could give all the other fair maidens a run for their money.”
Steve straightened his frame, still looming over the older boy, placing his hands on his hips and cocking his head to one side. “Yeah, you really could.”
Eddie didn’t know what he expected Steve to say, but it sure wasn’t such a blunt agreeance to his quips. He felt lost for words, so instead he just stared up at Steve with what could only be a dumbfounded smirk.
Steve cleared his throat after some heavy eye-contact. Did Steve also feel like it was intense? Or was that just Eddie? “You sound a lot better, man. Like your throat doesn’t hurt as much.”
“Yeah. Uh, Doc said the same thing. I’m doing better than they expected.”
“That’s great news. You’ll be back to Ms. Pac-Man in no time.” He nudged the edge of Eddie’s mattress with his knee. “So, what were you actually up to?”
Being vulnerable was never really Eddie’s thing, but the sincerity of Steve’s gaze made him give in with record speed. He sighed. “I – I just wanted to look at myself. I wanted to see what was under –” he gestured to his middle. He was wearing a hospital gown, but he could feel the bandages that concealed whatever carnage lay beneath “– all this.”
All at once, Steve’s stance softened. The arms that were once pressed into his hips dropped to lay slack by his sides. His brow no longer furrowed. His lips no longer pursed. He glanced back at the hospital door, maybe making sure it was closed tight, before turning back to Eddie. “I’ll help you.”
Eddie clenched and unclenched his jaw, but eventually nodded. He was afraid of what he was going to see, but he was more afraid of what Steve was going to see.
Slowly, Steve lowered himself into the chair next to Eddie’s bed. The two boys studied each other’s faces, until Steve reached out and tucked the thin blanked that had been bunched at Eddie’s feet over his waist. Then, feather light, his fingers found their way to the first tie near the nape of Eddie’s neck. “Is this okay?”
A shiver ran down Eddie’s spine as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his skin. “Y-yeah. All good.”
Steve worked his way down the ties until none remained. Eddie could feel a chill on his back as the fabric gaped there. And then the strangest thing happened. Steve ran his open hands over the skin of his shoulder blades, almost as if he were caressing him. It made Eddie suck in an obvious breath, and Steve’s hands came to an abrupt stop.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, man. Just a little sore.” Eddie was lying.
“Um, yeah, of course. Sorry. Let’s just… get this off, alright?” Steve gently pulled at the sleeves of the gown, and Eddie held his arms out at far as he could – which wasn’t very far at all – so Steve could disrobe him. Eddie wished it was under different circumstances that Steve was undressing him. Not now. Not under his pitying gaze. But here he was, completely naked with only the help of a sheet to cover himself. With only Steve and him in the room. And it was nothing like he wished it would be.
Steve persisted. He unwrapped Eddie’s bandages slowly, as to not irritate what might lay underneath. As if to give Eddie time to change his mind. He wasn’t going to. He kept his eyes closed as he felt the last of the gauze unfurl from his waist. He waited for Steve to scream, or cry, or at least gasp. But he did none of those things. Instead, he felt that same ghost of fingers against the now exposed skin of his stomach. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked down. Down to where Steve’s fingers traced the horrifying scars on his torso.
The whole left side of his body was ruined. Most of the skin there had been torn to shreds – in some areas it seemed that whole chunks of himself was missing where his skin was healing in deep divots. His left nipple was missing – now only valleys of scars covered where it used to sit – and half of the skull that he had tattooed on his chest was now missing. The right side wasn’t leaps and bounds better by any means, but the majority of the damage there was confined to his lower abdomen, besides a few shallow wounds that littered his collarbones.
It was worse than Eddie thought. His eyes slipped shut again as he shook his head. Tears gathered in his eyes that he tried not to let fall, but he quickly failed. It’s not that Eddie had found himself particularly attractive before, but now he was as hideous as the world made him out to be. He looked like the monster he was always told he was. The monster he never wanted to be.
“Eddie,” Steve said his name like a prayer. Like it was something sacred, something to be worshiped. When Eddie opened his eyes, Steve was leaning into him. He lifted a hand to Eddie’s face and wiped the tears that gathered under his eyes. “I know what it’s like to see these scars. It’s like… each piece of flesh missing took a part of who you were before. It’s a constant reminder of who you used to be. Who you’ll never be again. Who you were forced to turn into.”
His hands trailed back to the skin on Eddie’s chest that wasn’t touched by the hellish bats, not that much of it remained. Eddie tensed, and then relaxed under the touch, his body unable to decide how it wanted to react to the strangely intimate act. God, Eddie felt like he was burning. He was embarrassed. Ashamed. But also comforted – even maybe a little aroused.
“I know it feels like... you’re not beautiful anymore. That no one will find you beautiful. I know because I felt it. But before you can say anything, Eddie, before you can even think it… You are beautiful. You’re still beautiful. Your skin tells a story. And you know what that story is? It’s that you’re a goddamn hero. You saved so many lives. You saved my life. And… and when you look at yourself and decide to hate what you see, just remember how I see you. You’re a piece of art.”
A cry echoed off the walls, and Eddie realized all too late that it was him. He tried to hold himself back, he really did, but the dam had been broken and the tears were flowing, and the pathetic noises kept rattling out of his lungs as if they had been trapped for years and this was the only chance they had at freedom.
Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, and the latter let himself be held until he felt himself relax. It could have been five minutes; it could have been thirty. All sense of time disappeared when he was being held so close by someone who said the only words that could ever bring him any consolation. Someone who understood what it meant to lose your innocence in a way beyond what anyone else could comprehend. Finally, finally, he felt like he could speak.
“I don’t mean to be a total buzzkill, but I’m very aware that I’m naked right now, dude.”
Steve hiccupped a laugh and pulled away from Eddie. He found himself missing his proximity immediately, especially when he noticed the younger boy’s eyes brimmed with tears much like his own. He wanted to comfort Steve in the same way that Steve could comfort him.
“Let’s get you wrapped up again before the Doctor puts you back in a coma for misbehaving,” Steve said, grabbing the unravelled gauze and getting to work with a gentle but skilled hand. Once Eddie was fully bandaged, Steve slipped the hospital gown back over his arms and secured it with its ties.
After the whole ordeal, Eddie was exhausted – both physically and mentally. He reached to the little table that sat near his bed and grabbed the lip balm that Rachel had left for him. He thought about how sweet a gesture it was, and it warmed his heart that she treated him with such kindness. “Why didn’t you bring your little missus with you this time, Harrington? Scared of a little competition?”
Eddie immediately regretted his words when Steve’s face fell.
“We broke up last night.” Steve’s eyes dropped to his lap, where he twirled Eddie’s ring around his middle finger.
“Shit, I’m sorry Steve.” Eddie adjusted himself awkwardly on the mattress, not quite able to lift himself into a comfortable position before he gave up entirely. “Why did you guys split?”
Steve’s eyes lifted for a moment, his gaze darting between Eddie’s and – shit – did he just look at his lips? If he did, it was for less that a second, because as soon as Eddie thought he saw it, it was gone. Steve just shrugged and adverted his gaze back into his lap. “I think I might like someone else.”
All of the air left Eddie’s lungs. If Harrington had looked at his lips, could it possibly be him he was talking about? He quickly squashed the ridiculous notion. Steve was a ladies’ man, and Eddie needed to remember to stop projecting onto his crushes because it never worked out. It never worked out when he got a crush on a straight boy. Even though most of Eddie’s crushes on straight boys started and ended with Steve Harrington.
Fuck, stop it, Munson.
“Well, it’s gotta be a pretty serious crush then. Do they… like you back?” Eddie’s eyes joined Steve’s on his lap, where he still twiddled with the silver jewellery wrapped around his finger.
“I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Steve mumbled. Were his cheeks getting red?
“They’d be a fool to pass you up, Harrington.”
“Yeah? We’ll see I guess, won’t we?”
***
Steve
Steve laid in bed – his own bed, once again – replaying the events of the evening.
His fantasies of seeing Eddie, of touching Eddie, pretty much became a reality. Sure, it wasn’t the most ideal circumstances. But he had undressed the man himself and allowed his eyes to wander over his bare torso. It was so much worse than he thought. So much better. His chest was littered with scars, scars that mirrored Steve’s own, only so many more. So much deeper.
But when he laid eyes on them, he didn’t see what he saw on himself. He saw a fucking masterpiece of a man in front of him, painted with the marks of war and love and bravery. He saw someone strong. Someone who survived. Someone who was beautiful. Sexy.
And as much as he tried not to let his eyes wander when Eddie sat nearly naked, in all his glory, in front of Steve’s eyes, he couldn’t help but notice the one thing he was most curious about.
That light dusting of hair that trailed from his navel under the hem of the sheet.
Steve moaned as he felt his cock stiffen with he thought.
He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t think of Eddie that way when he was in such a vulnerable position, but fuck, he looked like he was meant to be framed and hung at the Louvre or some shit. He was just so… he was so…
Steve snaked his hand under the waistband of his boxers and wrapped his hand around his now throbbing dick. He didn’t even try to stop the moan that escaped his lips as he did.
Clamping his eyes shut, Steve pumped himself painfully slow. With each stroke, he twisted his fist on the head of his cock and then sunk back towards the base, over and over.
He imagined Eddie, no longer weak and in the hospital, but once again strong. Home. In Steve’s home. In Steve’s bedroom. He imagined Eddie stroking his cock for him, the cold metal of his rings gliding down his shaft as he slowly jerked him off.
Or maybe Eddie would just lay next to him and touch himself while Steve did the same. Maybe he would let Steve watch as he fucked his own hand in front of him. Maybe he’d lean into Steve as he came. Maybe Eddie would paint Steve with ropes of cum on his face. On his tongue.
Steve wiped his thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering the precum leaking from its tip and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked it from his fingers. His groan echoed off of his walls as he imagined it was Eddie’s cum he tasted on his tongue instead of his own.
Steve’s hips lifted in the air as he continued assaulting himself. His hand grew faster, impatient, fucking himself hectically. Needily.
What would it be like, fucking a man? Fucking Eddie Munson? Surly it would be different from what Steve was used to. He wondered in what way. He wondered what Eddie might do to him.
Steve’s left hand trailed down his stomach, past his dick. He rolled his balls in his palm, squeezing with a firm grasp.
“Ungh, Eddie,” Steve moaned his name unabashedly. He felt his balls tighten as he allowed himself to chant the name of the man who abused his thoughts. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”
His whole lower body hovered over his mattress as he readied himself for his orgasm. Without thinking, he dropped his left hand lower. With a single finger, he circled the tight ring of his asshole; it made him suck in a breath through his teeth. It wasn’t something he was used to, but in the heat of the moment, it was all he wanted. He needed something inside of him. He needed Eddie inside of him.
His entrance was tight as he pushed his finger in, crying out in pained pleasure at the new feeling. He barely reached his first knuckle before he was spilling inside of his boxers, coating the fabric in a hot, sticky mess that caused it to cling to his skin immediately.
“Fuck, Fuck,” he rode out his orgasm to the point of overstimulation, wanting to get as much from it as he possibly could. His whole body convulsed as he continued to fuck his hand, slicked with his own cum, crying out each time he brought his fist back towards himself to meet with his body. The finger in his ass sunk deeper and deeper, until his hand was flush with his body. He pulled out, and sunk back in.
He already came but he wasn’t finished. He wanted more. More of Eddie. Tears streamed down his face as a second orgasm quickly approached. The coil burned hot in his core, his dick throbbed painfully as he continued to fuck up into his fist, never having let it recover from the first orgasm. His dick was pulsating, red and angry as the sound of his slicked hand beating his skin filled the room.
He nearly screamed as he climaxed again – more cum spurting from his cock, but not nearly as much as the first time. His dick was spent – it gave as much as it could. It hurt in such a great way - the best kind of torture.
Steve panted, body slack, hand and cock covered in his nut. He had never had two orgasms in a row; Steve wasn’t even aware that it was possible without at least some recovery. But the thought of Eddie did something to him that he’d never experienced before.
He wondered what might be possible if Eddie was there in the flesh. If it wasn’t just Steve’s imagination. If it wasn’t just Steve’s fist and fingers. The thought terrified him. Thrilled him.
After a long, hot shower, Steve settled himself back into his bed. As he drifted to sleep, he thought about Eddie. He wondered if there was any possibility that he’d ever get to act on what he felt. It was such a slippery slope to test the waters – especially when he didn’t want to sacrifice the friendship in the process.
He also thought about Rachel. He wondered if she’d ever forgive him. If he’d get the chance to hold her, feel her, just one more time.
He wished so badly that he didn’t have to choose between the two. Maybe in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have to.
Notes:
The title is based off the iconic song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. One theory of the song’s meaning is that it’s believed to be Freddie Mercury’s confessional about the journey of discovering his queerness. I also considered a few other songs by Queen for this chapter: It’s a Hard Life, Pain is so Close to Pleasure and One Year of Love.
Chapter 5: You Give Love a Bad Name
Notes:
Hey, hi, hello!
I'm sorry I went on hiatus for a while there. I got totally involved in writing for my other Steddie fic and it took over my entire mind. I totally recommend following along to Sweet Surrender if you haven't started it yet (shamelss plug) because my updates for that one will be a lot more frequent than for this one.
But here it is, a little something something if you've been waiting for an update. <3<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Eddie
Eddie woke up from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. He knew it wasn’t a night terror – or more like a middle-of-the-day terror from the light that was streaming in through the window – because there was no aftertaste of fear in his mind, and his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest. No. In fact, the only place he could feel his heartbeat was between his legs, where his hard dick was throbbing at a steady pace.
So that’s the type of dream he’d had.
“Ungh,” Eddie groaned at the pulsating tent that was formed in his sweatpants. It wasn’t the first time that he’d woken up from an… alluring dream since he came back into consciousness at the hospital. But those other times, the flag was only at half-mast if you will, and he hadn’t had the energy to do anything with it. This time was different. He was already close, really close, and more awake than ever. It’s been months since he’d gotten off and from the feeling in his pants, it was time. And it was going to be messy.
Only, when Eddie reached down to grasp at his leaking dick, a pain shot through his shoulder from the movement. He gasped aloud. For a moment, he had forgotten that he could barely reach between his legs to take a piss without needing an extra dose of morphine, let alone tug one out. He tried with his left hand. When he unfurled his elbow, he could feel the ruined skin there pulling (even though it was admittedly less painful than when he tried with his right). It wasn’t worth it.
He whined as he bucked his hips up into the fabric of his sweatpants, desperate to get some type of friction. The head of his cock rubbed an inch under the taut fabric and it sent a zing to the building coil in his abdomen.
“Mmm,” Eddie hummed, lifting his hips once more and trying to get the same shift inside his pants. Only after the first time he adjusted, the fabric was rearranged in a way that didn’t want to move anymore with any of his subsequent thrusts. He tried lifting his hips higher, but his ravaged chest throbbed in pain from the over-exaggerated movement.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie cursed into the empty room, almost jarringly loud. He was giving himself blue balls.
Just as his voice stopped echoing off the stale room’s walls, the silver knob of the door turned, and it swung partially open. Steve’s head popped in through the cracked door. “Hey, man. You alright?”
Eddie’s heart hammered in his ears as he adjusted himself too quickly to try to hide his enormous erection from his unexpected visitor. His erratic movement irritated his wounds, and he hissed out a sound of pain. Or maybe it was pleasure, because once he adjusted, his sweats got increasingly tight against him, and it was hard to ignore. “I’m fine, Harrington.”
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I just heard you curse from halfway down the hallway.” Steve had a smug little smile as he slipped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. He had a few plastic bags with him, and Eddie could see that they were filled with bags of chips, bottles of Coke, and probably copious amounts of other junk food. He would have to thank Steve later. When he wasn’t so… preoccupied.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Eddie mumbled, slamming his head back down onto his pillow. He tried to will his cock into deflating, to no avail.
Steve found his way over to Eddie’s bedside, pulling the rolling chair to face it, and plopped down into its seat. He looked really good today, or so Eddie thought. His hair looked especially… big. His lips looked especially… red. Fuck.
The younger man leaned over Eddie’s frame and placed a warm hand on his knee. Eddie could feel his cock leaking in his pants like he was a virgin. Not that he was far from it.
He clenched his jaw, trying to not give himself away.
“Sounded like you might have been in pain,” Steve said. “You’re right, though. Sorry, dude.”
His hand gave Eddie’s knee a squeeze, making him shift uncomfortably in his bed. Eddie groaned and closed his eyes. Shit, man. Hold it together. He begged a higher power that he didn’t come in his pants in front of Harrington. That one would be near impossible to explain.
Steve’s brow’s furrowed at Eddie’s expression. “Munson, seriously, are you okay? You seem – I don’t know – frustrated at something.” Eddie opened his eyes to see a concerned Steve peering down at him. “I’m here to help you out, with whatever you need.”
Eddie felt a wave of heat enter his cheeks. If only Steve knew what he was offering.
Actually, the sudden thought of teasing Steve was all too humorous to Eddie. He was feeling a little mischievous, and as the opportunity to make Steve uncomfortable presented itself, Eddie found it hard to refrain.
“Oh, I am frustrated, Steeeeve,” Eddie laced his voice with a teasing malice. “And unless you move your hand up about another, oh, twelve inches, then you’re actually not helping with the situation. At all.”
“What –” Steve eyeballed up Eddie’s legs and settled for a brief moment on the obvious bulge under the sheets before tearing his eyes – and his hand – away. Red travelled up his neck and flushed his cheeks. Eddie liked a blushing Steve. Again, the sight didn’t help. “Oh – oh, man, uh.”
Eddie snickered under his breath. “Yeah. Woke up with a problem and it’s not exactly going away on its own.”
“Shit. Did I…” Steve cleared his throat. “Did I, like, interrupt you?”
“Nah, man.” Eddie laxed his neck so his head hit the pillow again. “I can’t exactly – uh – reach down there. The injuries don’t allow it. Not that I wasn’t trying.” He sighed. “I’m basically cock-blocking myself.”
Silence hung in the air around them, and Eddie was starting to wonder if he crossed a boundary by sharing his awkward situation with Steve. Of course, Harrington was straight, and the thought of another dude so near him with a throbbing dick was probably deeply uncomfortable to him, if not revolting. Maybe the shared trauma bond had its limit. Maybe Eddie just found it.
He peeked his eye to the side and saw Steve staring at him with rosy cheeks anew. Something about his expression stopped Eddie from opening his mouth to ease the tension, so instead he just stared back. The clock on the wall was disgustingly loud. It felt like Eddie was about to be Vecna-d or something. He was just waiting for the chimes.
“So you –”
“I can –”
They both tried to break the silence at the same time and ended up speaking on top of each other. The two men huffed quiet laughs.
“Sorry, Harrington. Go ahead?” Eddie tried to move his arm in a flourish, but its limited movement just made it look like he was twisting his hand.
“I was just – I thought – uh – if you wanted –” Steve’s eyes dropped back to Eddie’s lap where he was still straining uncomfortably, making him shift his hips again to hide it better. It didn’t work. “I can help you with that. I wouldn’t… mind.”
Eddie could feel his dick twitch. Fuck, he nearly moaned at the offer. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t imagine having his way with King Steve at least once or twice in his lifetime. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a bit of a crush on him the moment he bit a chunk out of that demobat. A bit of a crush that presented itself right now, even. But Steve was painfully straight – wasn’t he? Why would Harrington of all people offer to get Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson off? Is that even what he was offering? Shit. Fuck. What if he was completely misunderstanding what Steve was even talking about?
He cleared his throat, trying to sound as casual as possible. Just in case. “And what, exactly, are you offering, Stevie?”
Steve’s face flushed even darker. Eddie wished he could reach up and feel how hot his cheeks were. They looked very hot. “I – I don’t know really. I hear that blue balls can, like, seriously damage you. It would suck if that’s what took you out. After everything.”
The look on Steve’s face made Eddie cough out an obnoxious laugh. He was so serious. Did he really think he was offering Eddie medical help? “I’m not sure that rumour is true, dude. It’s frustrating as hell, but I’m sure I’d survive it.”
“So, you don’t… you don’t want me to?” Steve almost looked dejected. Why was he making this so difficult?
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you to,” Eddie groaned as he held back the X-rated images from making their way to the forefront of his mind. Definitely not images he’d ever thought about before. No. Definitely not. “It’s just…”
He peeked again at Steve’s expectant face. The guy was offering him sexual favours. Eddie assumed it would probably be as safe a time as any to disclose some personal information. It wasn’t that Eddie was ashamed about his sexuality – he himself had accepted the fact as a preteen when he found himself looking at dicks more often than titties in his stolen porno magazines. Not that titties weren’t nice. Eddie liked the look of titties too – fuck, never mind. He was gay. But living in a place like Hawkins, Indiana really didn’t sweeten the deal much. Only a handful of people knew, at least knew straight from the camel’s mouth. It wasn’t something to brag about.
He reached his thumb over the call button just in case he was about to get hate-crimed. Not that Steve seemed like the type. Not anymore. Not like in high school. But, just in case.
“Look, Steve, I’m about as straight as cooked spaghetti. Of course I want you to help me out.” Steve’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t look necessarily disgusted. That was a good sign. “But, dude, I don’t want this to look like the queer praying on the straight bro who just wanted to lend his friend a… hand.” Eddie adverted his gaze. His chest went tight – not from the healing wounds – as he waited for Steve to hit him. Or at the very least, stand up and walk out of the room. He wasn’t sure which would hurt more.
“Wait,” Steve shook his head in astonishment, “you’re saying you’re… gay?”
There was no point in denying it at this point. “That’s the kicker. I know. What a loss for the ladies, right?”
Steve seemed to contemplate the information for a while. To Eddie’s surprise, his hand landed back onto his knee. It was a little higher this time. Only by an inch or two, but it felt like a difference worth noting. Especially because his fingers were circling slightly over the fabric of the sheet. Especially because it made the hot coil in his gut clench once more.
“Then… that makes my offer a lot less awkward, don’t you think?” Steve’s voice was an octave lower than before. His hand shifted slowly upwards. Another inch higher.
Holy fuck, what?
The throbbing in Eddie’s pants intensified as Steve’s hand trailed up his thigh, giving a slight squeeze to the fleshy part about halfway up. A pathetic noise erupted from Eddie’s throat. “Don’t fuck with me, Harrington.” He panted, staring at the flushed man in front of him. He literally couldn’t believe this. Eddie was definitely still dreaming, wasn’t he?
Steve, surprisingly, didn’t look away when Eddie captured his gaze. He kept his hand moving upwards, over Eddie’s hip, which made him bite back another embarrassing moan, until his flingers toyed with the edge of the sheet that bunched at Eddie’s waist.
“I’m not fucking with you, Eddie,” Steve whispered. “But I will fuck you. Do you – do you want that?”
For once, Eddie felt lost for words. His breath hitched at the feeling of Steve’s fingers moving so close to his swollen cock. His hands grasped at the mattress beneath him as he refrained himself from bucking up as he did earlier. He knew this time he’d make contact with Steve’s twiddling hands. The thought was both exciting and terrifying.
Eddie glanced at the door, waiting for a cohort of straight jocks to tumble through yelling slurs – I can’t believe you actually thought Steve was serious, you faggot – laughing in his face. Maybe snapping some photos. This had to be some cruel Joke. Didn’t it?
“Eddie?” Steve bent closer to Eddie’s face, snapping the older boy out of his own head. “Do you want me to fuck you with my hand, Eddie?”
Jesus Christ. His whole body trembled.
“Y-yes.” Eddie heard the confession before he knew he was the one who spoke it. Did he really just admit that? Holy fuck. “But do you?”
“I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t.”
Steve ripped the sheet from Eddie’s lap before he could even think of a response, exposing the length of his hard-on under his pants. There was a dark mark on the grey of the fabric where his precum had leaked through. Eddie might have been embarrassed if his entire being wasn’t alight with anticipation.
Steve’s hand hovered over his body as he glanced once more to the man laying under him. His eyes were questioning. Eddie gave two tight nods. And then, rather confidently, Steve’s hand grasped Eddie’s cock through his sweats. He cried out, fisting the sheets that now laid at his side. It felt like an electric shock had travelled from his dick outwards. Even his fingertips tingled.
“I – I’m not going to last long.” He didn’t know why he felt it necessary to tell Steve. Maybe it was because he didn’t want him to think he had no stamina. Or maybe he didn’t want to shock him when he blew his load in ten seconds if he didn’t want to get himself messy. Either way, he was embarrassed at how true the statement was.
“Yeah?” Steve palmed him a couple of times with a practiced grip before easing off to readjust his chair. It was a good thing he let go, because Eddie felt his balls tightening and he was sure if Steve pumped him a few more times the same way, he would have creamed his pants. “You really need this, huh?”
Eddie sobbed as Steve lowered the elastic waistband of his pants just enough for his dick to spring free from under the fabric. Sobbed? Why did he sob? But that’s the only way to explain the noises he was making. It wasn’t a good look on him. But do you think he could help it? Absolutely not.
He focused his eyes downwards. The weight of his cock laid on his abdomen, the tip of it was angry red and dripping. Eddie side-eyed Steve, who was staring down at his length with an expression he couldn’t quite place. It twitched up for a second as he tensed. Was Steve changing his mind? Did he want to back out now that things were getting too… real?
This wasn’t very… ‘bro’ of them.
“Look, Steve, you don’t have to –” Eddie squirmed uncomfortably, considering throwing the sheet back over himself. He felt so exposed under Steve’s stare. But the latter tore his eyes from Eddie’s dick and met his gaze, a sly smile creeping to the corners of his luscious lips.
“Don’t worry. Harrington’s got it. Doesn’t he –” Steve wrapped his long fingers around the base of Eddie’s cock and stroked upwards, twisting expertly as he reached its head, “– big boy?”
Normally, Eddie would have something to say about Steve stealing one of his lines. But if it wasn’t the thrill of Steve remembering something that Eddie had said to him so many months ago keeping him from quipping back, it was the sudden steady pace that Steve’s fist had started stroking his cock to. Eddie bit his lower lip as he moaned at the sensation, his head tilting back onto the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut for only a moment, but quickly decided against it. He wanted to see every moment of Steve’s hand pleasuring him.
The coil in Eddie’s stomach was burning hot. “I – Steve? Steve. I… I…” He couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. His orgasm was quickly approaching, and every muscle in his body tensed to get ready for whatever havoc it was about to unleash after so many months of pent-up sexual tension. He only hoped his babbling was enough to warn Harrington about it.
Eddie was panting – with every exhale a quiet moan escaped from his lungs. He looked back at Steve, who was focused intently on his hand – or was it Eddie’s cock that he was entranced with? It was hard to tell. But it was hard to miss the way the younger boy’s tongue darted out of his mouth and wet his lips. The sight made Eddie’s voice crack as he cried out.
The sound tore Steve’s eyes from his working fist, focusing on Eddie’s eyes that were still stuck on his mouth. “You like that?”
“Mmm!” Eddie lifted his hips into Steve’s hand.
Steve lifted his left hand and cupped Eddies balls with it, giving a taut squeeze.
“Fuck! Fuck, Steve!” Eddie cried. The added sensation sent him reeling. It wasn’t something he expected – he assumed Steve would pump one out for him as quick as he could while avoiding any kind of eye to eye, or dick to eye, contact. Actually, Eddie never even expected that. But with the second hand, and the earlier dirty talk, it seemed like he might actually be enjoying himself. But Eddie couldn’t let his mind go there. It would lead him straight to disappointment. Steve was straight. Steve was just dumb. Steve thought Eddie could die of blue balls, so he was just assuring his friend’s good health.
Eddie thrashed forward as Steve’s fingers hit exactly the right spot on the underside of his cock – right where the ridge of where its head met the shaft. “Ffffff – uck!” Eddie couldn’t help how pathetic he sounded. He was pathetic, really, all disabled and shit. He couldn’t even touch his own dick. Here Steve was, his best friend, doing it for him while he nearly cried. Pathetic.
Something seemed to flicker behind Steve’s eyes. An idea maybe? He slowly leaned forward so his head was above Eddie’s cock. He was only a few inches away, and Eddie’s stuttering hips stilled, shocked at the vision in front of him.
For a moment, Eddie thought Steve might put his mouth on him, and the thought alone nearly sent him gushing into Steve’s face. But that’s not what Steve did.
A slow string of saliva dripped from his puckered lips, landing on the irritated tip of Eddie’s cock. Steve gathered the wet with his hand and slid it down his shaft. He ran his thumb over the slit of his slicked head as he gave one more squeeze to his balls. That’s what finished him off.
“Shitshitshit, fuck. Steve, fuck!” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut as ropes of cum shot out of him, landing high on his own chest and Steve’s still pumping hand as he worked the older boy through his orgasm. Each stroke of Steve’s fist sent another spurt, and another, and another. More than Eddie had ever seen himself cum. His muscles ached where they had been torn up as they contracted with each shock.
Finally, Steve slowed his hand after Eddie spent as much as he could, until he started whining and writhing from the overstimulation.
Both boys caught their breath. Eddie couldn’t believe that just happened.
“Holy… shit.” Steve’s voice was quiet, but it felt loud. Eddie peeked one eye open to see him staring at his hand covered in Eddie’s cum. He was opening and closing his hand, watching the strings of sticky white connect between his fingers. What a fucking sight. Eddie could feel his dick twitch. He could easily get hard again if Steve kept looking so goddamn erotic.
“Yeah, holy shit,” said Eddie. He tried to read the other boy’s expression as he stared at his cum-covered hand.
Steve’s left hand, mostly clean as far as Eddie could tell, fell into his own lap. And palmed at his own erection. Eddie’s breath hitched. Steve was turned on by giving him a hand job.
He was definitely starting to get hard again, even though he hadn’t fully softened yet.
Eddie tried to reach over to Steve’s lap. He wanted – no needed – to touch.
“Steve.” His voice whined in barely a whisper. But as his hand contacted Steve’s thigh, the latter suddenly sprang to his feet and stumbled backwards.
Shit.
Eddie had gone too far. And the bad part was, it didn’t feel far enough.
“I… I…” Steve was breathing hard, staring at Eddie, who was on his bed with his arm still outstretched towards the younger man. Dick laying pathetic on his stomach. Steve frantically searched his eyes around the room, landing on a towel that was sprawled over Eddie’s duffel. He basically ran over to it, wiping his trembling hands on it before tossing it on top of Eddie’s frozen form. “I have to – uh – go. I have to go.”
“Wait – Harrington,” Eddie called after him, but Steve had already turned to the door, swinging it open and slipping out before any other words could be spoken. Eddie was left in the quiet of the room again, clock ticking, and alone.
***
Steve
Holy fucking shit. Holyfuckingshit.
Steve was on the verge of a jog as he made his way down the maze of hospital hallways towards what he could only hope was an elevator or a stairway that would lead him out of this building. He had no idea if he was heading in the right direction. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was like his mind was buzzing with static, but it wasn’t as calm as static. Jolts of tremors ran through his chest like he was cold. But he was hot, so hot.
I just jerked off Eddie fucking Munson.
The thought was obscene. Totally fucking radical.
So much for testing the waters. So much for not sacrificing the friendship.
He’d totally fucked up. Let his intrusive thoughts win. Steve came on to Eddie and then Eddie… came on him.
And he was this close to whipping his own dick out and rubbing one out in Eddie’s goddamn hospital room.
“What the fuck, Steven?” he said aloud, pressing the down button on the elevator over and over and over again, even though it was already glowing red. “Fuck. What the fuck? Whatthefuck?”
He stepped inside the doors when they opened with a ding, pressing the close door button just as frantically as before. They finally slid shut. The only sound in the small space was the pounding of his heart and his accelerated breathing – panting like he ran a fucking marathon.
When he brought his hand up to wipe his brow, he noticed it was still… sticky. He felt the layer of Eddie’s release still coating his skin where he didn’t wash it off properly. And it shouldn’t have been arousing. But here he was bringing his fingers to his mouth, letting his tongue poke out from between his lips to graze over the salty flesh. If he let a moan escape from his lungs, he pretended he didn’t notice.
The bell of the doors opening tore him from whatever trance he was under. He let his hand fall behind his back – like any passersby would be able to tell exactly what he was doing. Like it was written on his flesh that he’d just used that hand on another man. That he’d liked it. That he wanted more. A real taste, not just the remnants on his skin.
He was so fucked.
The walk to his car seemed longer than usual, like it was a labyrinth he wove through and not a lot of parked cars. He was sure he parked in section six, but the burgundy BMW was nowhere to be seen. It took him hours (another three minutes) to find it parked under section nine instead.
The stream of curses poured out of him like water leaking from a spout. And when he sat in his plush, leather seat, it only got worse.
“Jesus Chr – holy shit. Holy fucking… Oh my God. Oh, God. Oh, fuck,” His stomach tied up in knots. It could have been nerves or it could have been vomit. Maybe even both. “Robin. I need to see Robin.”
-
Family Video didn’t seem like the best place to have a sexuality crisis, or a friend fallout, or a discussion about sex, or really whatever the fuck Steve’s situation might be classified under. But he had no choice.
“Welcome to Family V – Steve! Wow, who put a stick up your ass?”
Robin was always so eloquent with her words.
“Robs, I need to, like, talk to you. Right now,” Steve said frantically, whipping his head around the shop to search for other patrons who, for now, seemed to be nowhere.
She followed his gaze, dropped her voice low. “Is this about… our little discussion the other day?”
“Yes, yeah. Yes,” Steve nodded, chewing on his lip.
“Okay, um, Keith is in the back so keep your voice down. But, like, you know he never comes out unless it’s a delivery from the Hershey’s truck. So you’ll be fine. Go,” she encouraged, gesturing wildly like she was all ears.
“Okay… okay. Oh, fuck. Shit, I can’t say it aloud,” he groaned, doubling over the counter to thump his head on the cheap, vinyl top that was decorated with flyers of the new releases. And a little but sticky.
“Steve –”
“Okayokayokay!” he rubbed at his eyes, then his cheeks, then dragged his hands down his chin. And he spat it out. “I came on to Eddie.”
Robin stared at him for a moment. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Seemed to contemplate something, then said, “Okay – for clarity – do you mean, like, figuratively or… literally?”
“Rob!” he screeched, raising his voice much higher than the confines of the walls would allow discreetly. They both turned their heads to the back room. When Keith didn’t stumble out, he continued. “Figuratively, but then, like… ohmygod…”
“But then…” she encouraged, waving her hands around.
“But then I…” he circled his hand and pumped it over the air.
“Oh, yikes,” she sighed. “I might regret asking this, but do you mean… to yourself, or to Eddie?”
“Well, last night, to myself. But right now?” he choked. “Eddie.”
“Okay, first of all, way too much information about what you do in your spare time. Secondly – ew! Did you, like, wash your hands after?”
“C’mon, Robs,” Steve moaned. “I mean, like, last night I let myself… I don’t know, think about him –”
“Still too much information.”
“– and I fucked things up by coming on to Eddie when I liked it –”
“Nasty.”
“– and then I ran out of his room like a coward after because I freaked out, and I’m still freaking out, and he’s never going to forgive me. Things will never be the same. We can’t be friends anymore. I fucked things up so bad –”
“Woah, woah, woah, Steve,” Robin’s voice was loud enough to make Steve stop his rambling. “What do you mean you ran out of his room?”
“I,” Steve swallowed. His throat clicked, “left him there after?”
“Steve!” Robin chastised. “That’s, like, rule number one of gay hookups! Don’t leave right after!”
“I think that’s a rule of all hookups, Robin! And I know it wasn’t right, but my goddamn legs were working before my mind did!”
“It’s different, Steve!” she whisper-yelled. “He’s totally gonna think the worst after this.”
“Thank you,” his voice broke, “for the confidence booster. That’s exactly what I was looking for here. No, definitely not some calming words or comfort. I wanted you to tell me what I already know.”
“It’s the truth, unfortunately. You need to go back right now if you want to make things right.”
“I…” he thought about facing Eddie again. “I can’t do that.”
“Steve –”
“I know, Robin. I just – I can’t. I need time to think about what just happened.”
“At least tell him that what you need, Steve,” she said, voice soft. “You owe him that. After everything.”
And as much as he hated the way his heart felt like it was attempting to tear through his chest plate, he nodded. Eddie did deserve that. He deserved so much more. But Steve was a coward. Couldn’t face the things he’d done. Couldn’t deal with confrontation. Getting yelled at. Being told it’s bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
So he’d do the next best thing.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
***
Eddie
It took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to tuck his dick back into his pants and wipe the sticky mess from his chest. He’d had to take his shirt off, and it made his muscles scream in protest. When the nurse came to check on him not five minutes after Steve had left she had chastised him for being difficult, that stripping would make him catch a chill and the last thing he needed was the flu or a cold.
She’d tried to pick his shirt up from the ground, and Eddie panicked. Told her to, please, at least get him the hoodie from his bag on the floor.
Thank God she listened.
Now he was left to his own thoughts once again. And how bittersweet they were.
Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock. Giving him the best orgasm of his entire life. The look of total desire painted on his face afterwards when he grabbed at his own erection.
And then leaving.
Because Steve was – what exactly?
Straight didn’t seem like a great descriptor at the moment, because as far as Eddie was concerned, straight boys didn’t offer to jerk off their friends. But then again, Steve was the caretaker. Said he was concerned about blue balls, of all things. Was that an excuse to experiment? Was his reaction because he didn’t like it? Or more specifically, didn’t like Eddie? Or was it because Steve really was straight and was disgusted at his body’s response to jerking off a dick?
Whatever the answer, it was nothing good. And Eddie feared that after this, their friendship might never be able to recover. Which sucked royally because, fuck, he liked Steve’s company.
The phone ringing tore Eddie from his stupor.
Eddie’s phone never rang, so it must have been something important.
He struggled to reach his arm to the table next to his bed, and when he just managed to touch the back of the phone with his hand, the ringing stopped.
He groaned. “Fuck.”
But it started once more.
He scrambled, but managed to pick up the receiver.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Wayne?”
“No, um, Eddie. It’s me.”
Steve’s voice sounded like both a blessing and a curse to Eddie’s ears. His fist tightened around the yellowing plastic of the speaker.
“Oh. Hi,” was all he managed.
“Eddie, I just needed to –” Steve was cut off by a staticky rustling. Maybe some whispering. “I have to say sorry about what I did.”
What he did? Did he mean the touching or the running away?
“Okay,” said Eddie. Waiting.
“And I just wanted to, um, say that I want to forget that happened –” more static. More whispers, “– I mean, that I just need some distance –” static, “– time –”
“Look, Steve,” Eddie cut him off. He felt a flood of anger and resentment and fear and rejection overwhelm him. Whoever Steve was with was feeding him lines. Maybe it really was all a joke. “Just forget it, alright man? Nothing happened. And take as much time and distance as you need. We weren’t friends in high school and I’ll survive if we aren’t friends after.”
“Eddie –”
“Nah, man. It doesn’t make sense that you’d be close with the faggot freak anyway.”
“That’s not what I meant, dude. Just let me explain,” Steve huffed.
“I don’t want to hear it, actually,” Eddie near shouted. He felt his eyes well up and could only hope that the tears couldn’t be heard on Steve’s end. “Time and distance sounds just peachy, Steve. In fact, don’t come around anymore at all.”
“Come on, Eddie, this isn’t what I meant.”
“I’ll spare you the trouble, man.” Eddie choked. “See you never.”
He slammed the phone onto it base with more force than he knew he was capable of mustering. The movement sent shocks of pain through his entire body.
The call button was all too enticing. Eddie figured now was a good time for another dose of morphine.
Notes:
You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi is this chapter's song pairing. I feel like it might be a stretch to think Eddie would listen to Jovi, but he was considered metal in the '80s and they had similar hair. So.
The_Unforgivenn on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Jul 2023 03:34AM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 1 Tue 04 Jul 2023 04:14PM UTC
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Shiv (Guest) on Chapter 2 Sat 13 Aug 2022 12:58AM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 2 Sat 13 Aug 2022 08:43PM UTC
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The_Unforgivenn on Chapter 2 Tue 04 Jul 2023 12:24PM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 2 Tue 04 Jul 2023 04:15PM UTC
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The_Unforgivenn on Chapter 3 Tue 04 Jul 2023 12:38PM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 3 Tue 04 Jul 2023 04:16PM UTC
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Chiquitapeach (Guest) on Chapter 5 Wed 07 Dec 2022 03:18AM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 5 Sun 01 Jan 2023 10:29PM UTC
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Thecricketsarecalling on Chapter 5 Thu 19 Jan 2023 03:54PM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 5 Fri 20 Jan 2023 12:29AM UTC
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The_Unforgivenn on Chapter 5 Tue 04 Jul 2023 12:58PM UTC
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morningberries on Chapter 5 Tue 04 Jul 2023 04:17PM UTC
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