Chapter Text
Hypovolemic shock from blood loss was underrated, at least in Eddie’s opinion. For one thing, it set in fast , fast enough for Eddie to be able to watch demon bats tear into his flesh without feeling a thing. Sure, the first few minutes he was near sobbing from the pain, but then, poof, nothing.
Second, it definitely dulled the tragic feeling of bleeding out infront of his friend. The guilt of almost surely giving Dustin PTSD felt pretty small in the face of his body shutting down. He was able to give Dustin some kind of parting words before falling into black, even if they were confused and slurred in his head. They sounded strong coming out.
And most importantly, it apparently gave him time to think before killing him all the way. Or maybe he was just in limbo already. Eddie could feel his consciousness coming back, alive but alone in the dark.
He kinda thought that dying would be more entertaining than this, at least the last bit. He always imagined the famous life flashing before your eyes scenario, but instead, he was stuck, just left with his blind thoughts to keep him company.
At the least it was getting easier to think, but that just made it easier to realize all of his regrets. He never graduated highschool, which was just tragic considering he swore to Wayne that this was gonna be his year. They even did a stupid pinky promise, at Eddie’s insistance.
Now, he would never be better than his dad. He’d never go to college or trade school or do anything that would have made Wayne proud. He literally died as a damned drug dealer, so there was that.
He never got to fall in love. He never even got to have sex , just his own hand and his top secret PlayGirl collection under his mattress.
Though…even if he had lived his odds of losing his virginity were basically in the gutter. Steve flashed through his mind then, because getting eaten alive wasn’t punishment enough, he had to think of his straight high school crush.
Would he care that Eddie was gone? He doubted it. They barely fucking knew eachother, why would he? Just because Eddie glommed onto him with lightning speed didn’t mean the caring feeling was mutual.
He wondered if he’d keep the vest, guessing it would eventually just be thrown away. But the memory of Steve in his clothes was nice, it was something.
Maybe he would be remembered fondly, if not in the very back of everyone’s mind. He didn’t die a coward, a single point in his favor. Those monsters went after him, and only him. Dustin was alive, not well, but alive. He remembered those things dying around him before he went down fully, so that meant the others killed Vecna, hopefully.
At least he didn’t die for nothing.
Though…it sure was taking awhile for him to actually go.
He was pretty sure he was starting to hallucinate a little bit here. Was that normal? Eddie was hearing shit around him, which didn’t make any fucking sense since he was dead. There was a very annoying beeping and someone was snoring, intesently loudly. The blackness covering his vision was getting lighter, and he suddenly felt nauseous.
How did he feel nauseous? How did he feel? He twitched, realizing that he was moving, actually moving. He could feel his fingers and toes flex, he could feel the intense thirst in his throat, and he could feel his eyelids flutter open.
It was bright . Way too fucking bright for his sensitive eyes. He had a pounding headache, bad enough to make his vision blurry. Something was wrapped around his head, bandages no doubt. He rubbed his eyes, surprised at just how easy it was. He was near death less than twenty four hours ago, how was he moving at all?
And why did nothing else hurt?
He looked down, vision still foggy, only to find… nothing. No gaping wounds by his ribs, no bandages to keep his guts inside his belly, not even any scabbed up fang marks. Frantically, he ran his hands up and down his body, looking for anything that matched how he died. He brought a hand to his side feeling for wounds, but there was only scar tissue, rough and long healed.
Even his head was starting to feel better. Physically, he was bizarrely fine. But his body felt…off. Bigger somehow, stronger. He stared down at himself, unbelieving that he was actually here. He rubbed a hand over his face, pausing when he got a look at his fingers.
There was a new tattoo there, a princess crown wrapped around his ring finger, one that he did not remember getting. He looked at himself closer, realizing he was covered in new ink he didn’t recognize.
What the fuck.
His eyes darted around the room, finally clear enough to see fully. He was in a hospital, laying on a thin mattress with an IV drip, the first thing to make even a lick of sense. He then realized he wasn’t alone.
There were two others, sleeping on small hospital chairs next to his bed. He could barely make out who was on the right, a jacket was draped over their face, but closest to him was…Steve? He couldn’t see much from the awkward way he was sleeping, but he would recognize that hair anywhere. He looked different though, wrong in a way that Eddie couldn’t pinpoint. But at least he knew it was him.
The snoring stranger was another matter. He stared at them, leaning forward enough to make the cheap hospital bed creak. It made the snorer jolt out of his sleep, swiping the jacket off his face. He stared straight at Eddie, a grin slowly growing.
Whoever it was glanced at Steve before inching his chair forward, “Holy shit, you’re awake!” he whispered, happy.
Eddie stared at him, gears turning in his head. He knew this guy, he knew he knew this guy.
“Jesus you really freaked us out man! I’d keep Steve asleep for as long as you can because he is gonna kill you when he wakes up.”
The voice did it. He could recognize that lectury tone anywhere, even if it was deeper and coming from an adult man. He stared, looking him up and down a few times. He had the exact same cadence, the same curly hair, and that unforgettable smile, but he was tall .
“Dustin?”
How was he so tall ?
He frowned a little, “Ya?”
“I’m not dead?”
His frown deepened, “You fell off a ladder Eddie, it wasn’t exactly life-threatening.”
“Where am I?”
“The hospital? The one by Robin and Nancy’s house? Are you alright?” Dustin said it like it was a given, like Eddie even vaguely knew what the hell he was talking about.
“I-I don’t think so,” Eddie said, his voice slightly frantic, “Why are you so tall? ”
“I’m like two inches shorter than you!” Dustin stood, reaching over to press at the nurse call button by his bed, “Are you on drugs? Like what the hell did they give you?”
Steve was finally jostling awake from the loudness, coming to with a groan. He blinked a few times, slowly realizing that Eddie was conscious. His face broke out into a sweet smile, so sweet that Eddie stupidly looked behind him, because there was no way that was being directed at him.
Steve scooted his chair forward, grabbing for Eddie’s hand, still making that face. He froze, letting him intertwine their fingers. It was pleasantly warm, with the slightest ring of cool. Since when did Steve wear rings?
“Baby, I am so mad at you,” he sleepily croaked out, looking anything but, “Absolutely furious.” He brought his hand to his lips, kissing his fingers like it wasn’t absolutely insane.
Steve ignored Dustin gagging at the little gesture. He was muttering about the button being broken and his parents being gross.
“How are you feeling?” Steve asked, all wide-eyed and caring.
Eddie gaped at him, fully aware that his entire face must be red. He was trying to form words, he really was, but Steve single handedly put the brakes on that.
Why was Steve Harrington holding his hand? Why was Steve Harrington calling him baby ?
Why did he kiss him, like it was the most natural thing in the world?
Maybe this really was the afterlife. But if this was paradise, why did Steve have a ring on his left hand? They were both staring at him now, waiting for any type of response.
“Confused?” he offered, eyes flitting between their joined hands and Steve’s face, “Like, really, really fucking confused.”
Steve cocked his head, his smile starting to disappear, and Eddie didn’t like that. He wanted to bring back the soft and sweet doe eyes immediately.
Dustin was still aggressively clicking at the nurse call button, “Like he’s acting super weird Steve. I think they got him on some strong painkillers or something.”
Steve furrowed his brow, concern growing by the second. He brought his other hand to Eddie’s face, turning it towards him, “Eddie? Baby, are you okay?”
“Nope.” he said simply, leaning into the touch despite himself. He was staring again, but he didn’t really care and Steve didn’t even seem to mind. He smelled so good. How did he smell so good? Like cloves and fresh grass, and…like home.
Christ, maybe Dustin was right, they must have given him the real good shit to be imagining all of this nonsense. Then again, an adorable Steve Harrington giving more than two shits about Eddie was a point towards this being the afterlife.
He was still trying to pinpoint what looked so off about Steve. He looked a bit older, though the difference was a lot less jarring than with Dustin. He was still devastatingly handsome, maybe even worse now than before, considering how Eddie was on the edge of drooling over what may be a figment of his imagination.
Eddie almost whined when Steve pulled away, standing up with a new sense of urgency.
“I’m getting the doctor,” he declared, voice tight, “Dustin, make sure he stays awake.” He leaned down to kiss Eddie again, this time on the forehead, like it was so normal he didn’t even realize he was doing it. He watched him speed walk away, swallowing hard as he watched him go. He didn’t technically recognize the shirt, but he recognized the writing, Corroded Coffin, with an entire tour list on the back.
He was wearing Eddie’s shirt. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was positive that Steve was wearing his clothes, for god knows what reason.
Dustin had given up on the call button, opting to stare at Eddie like he had two heads. Eddie picked at the thin blanket, feeling oddly guilty about the atmosphere.
It wasn’t like it was his fault that nothing made any sense.
“So…” Eddie started, questions racing through his mind.
“So?”
“Since when the hell was Steve married?” It was a weird pick, but it was just as strange as everything else that was happening, so sue him. He was never good at setting priorities anyway.
And at the least he knew that married men were not supposed to be kissing their male friends.
Dustin sputtered at that, looking absolutely scandalized at the very appropriate question. Eddie raised an eyebrow, waiting as he failed to collect himself. He watched in real time as the color drained from Dustin’s face, worsening the sinking feeling he had.
If this was Vecna fucking with him he was truly going on a bizarre route. Killing him would have been way easier.
“Eddie, what was the last thing you remember?” Dustin asked, ignoring his question.
“Uh…getting eaten alive?” Eddie grimaced at the memory. It felt so fresh , like it just happened hours ago, “And I'm positive you watched me die man. Like 100 percent.”
Dustin slumped back into his seat, looking defeated, “Eddie, that was six years ago.”
“Oh,” Eddie blinked at him. Well that wasn’t good.
“Are you saying that I’ve been in a coma for six years?”
Dustin shook his head, “You were in a coma for like, six hours, max. You tried to save a cat from a tree and brained yourself on the sidewalk.”
Eddie’s fingers ghosted over the bandage on his head, trying to will himself into remembering what the hell Dustin was talking about. But nothing came.
They both jumped at the sound of the door reopening. Steve was back with the doctor in tow, nervously chewing on his nails while his eyes were locked on Eddie.
“Glad to see you’re awake Mr.Munson!” The doctor said happily, his eyes running over a clipboard, “We’ll get you out of here before you know it, but I just need to check a few things.”
“He thinks it’s 1986.” Dustin immediately blurted out, “Like the bats 1986.”
Steve paled, turning on his heel to glare up at the doctor, “H-how is that possible? You said he was going to be okay!”
The doctor put his hands up, placating, “He will be! The hippocampus was jostled pretty hard there, but not fully damaged in a meaningful way. Some memory loss is normal, but he can go home today.”
“This does not feel normal.” Eddie quipped, looking between the two men, “Six years gone feels pretty fucked up to me.”
“It’s temporary.” the doctor insisted, “I don’t know of anyone who hasn't had their full facilities back from this type of injury, especially when their MRIs come out as good as yours. Worst case I’ve seen took a few months, the average is a few days. You’ll be just fine.”
He walked over, shining a little flash light in his eyes, “That said, you’re at a pretty high risk for migraines. Nothing deadly, but incredibly painful.”
Pleased with whatever he saw, he moved onto his arm, unhooking him from the IV and bandaging the bleeding pricks before stepping back, “It’s important not to overwhelm yourself too early, don’t have anyone try and recite your entire life story unless you want a pounding headache. Start with the broad strokes and let the details come naturally, trust me. We’ll keep a follow-up appointment every week for a while, but all of your tests came back great. You just need plenty of rest.”
He said it so simply, like Eddie wasn’t on the edge of freaking the fuck out.
He looked back at Steve, “Does he live alone?”
“No, we’re roommates.”
“Good, he should be monitored for the next few days. If he starts acting dizzy or confused and it doesn’t let up, bring him back here.”
Steve nodded, hugging himself. He looked devastated, sad enough to make Eddie feel a pain in his chest at the sight.
“Can we get a doctor’s note for his classes?” Steve asked, already down to business.
The doctor agreed easily. He wished Eddie good luck and walked away, as if he didn’t just drop a massive bomb on his life. Steve sighed, suddenly looking shy as he glanced at Eddie.
“Dustin, can you take him home? I already brought clothes for him.” He said, pointing at a backpack on the floor. Dustin nodded.
He turned to Eddie, “I’ll take care of everything, so don’t worry about anything but remembering okay? I’ll meet you at home in a few hours. You have a lot of, um,” he waved vaguely, “commitments, but nothing we can’t get out of for a few days.”
Eddie wanted to ask what commitments he was talking about, he couldn’t imagine that he was swimming in opportunities. But Steve looked like he was on the edge of crying, so maybe prodding him now was a bad call.
“I-uh, thanks, Steve.” he said instead, rubbing at his neck, “I’m um, glad we’re still friends?”
That was the wrong thing to say. Steve flinched like he had hit him and Dustin wasn’t too far behind.
He shook it off before Eddie could even ask about it, mustering up a smile that didn’t meet his eyes, “No problem, I’ll explain everything else when I get home, okay? Thanks Dustin.”
He turned to walk away, lingering in the doorway before glancing back, “Please don’t give him a headache, even if he asks for it.” He pointed at Eddie, a hand on his hip, “And you better not try and force him. I don’t want to see you in any more pain. Are we clear?”
“Yes Mom , Jesus. I’ll take care of him.” Dustin lamented, shooing Steve away, “He’ll be fine.”
Eddie nodded along with him, more so to try and make Steve feel better than any belief that he was anywhere near fine.
“Good,” Steve said, satisfied. He turned back to leave, giving Eddie one last long look, “And um…I love you.”
And then he was gone, leaving him with an adult Dustin and a baffling warm feeling in his chest.
He waited until Steve’s footsteps faded away before turning to him, a million questions swirling in his mind, “Did he just say that to you or me?”
Dustin looked sad at the question, turning his back to dig through the backpack Steve had left,
“To you man, you guys have this thing where you always have to say it before leaving a room, like weirdos.”
He threw a shirt at Eddie’s face, “Happy weirdos,” he corrected, anxious in a way that Eddie had never seen before. Guess he was putting on a brave face for Steve too.
He nervously chattered on, complaining as he tossed Eddie the rest of his clothes, “We need to get you a second opinion dude, that doctor is way too casual about this. Like I think he just cares about getting a bed back.”
Eddie stripped off the hospital gown, sliding on the t-shirt Dustin threw at him.
It smelled like Steve.
He managed to catch the pants and boxers, pleased at the soft sweats. Dustin turned around as Eddie shimmied them on, a stupid smile on his face. The image of Steve carefully picking out comfortable clothes for him made his stomach do a happy flip. They lived together, they were happy weirdos according to Dustin, and with the I love you …
He stared at his fingers, realizing that his new tattoo was on the left hand.
“I’m going to ask you a really dumb question.”
“Considering the circumstances, I doubt it,” Dustin said, tossing some tennis shoes his way, “Shoot.”
“Am I like…married to Steve or something?” he asked, getting on his feet. The lack of any pain was still jarring but relieving. In comparison to his last memory, this felt like heaven.
Dustin hesitated, “Did you just remember that?”
“I’m right?!”
Dustin groaned, obviously reasoning with himself before settling on an answer, “It’s not like legal, obviously, but like spiritually? You had a whole ceremony and everything. Steve even changed his last name.” Dustin glanced back at him, “You guys act married, so it counts to all of us.”
Scratch that, this was heaven. Or a very, very fucked up almost post-mortem dream.
“How…how the hell did that happen Henderson?” he asked, tying up his shoes. He was suddenly impatient to get out of here, hungry to discover more about this bizarre future, “Like, I’m struggling to believe any of this shit is real. ”
“Well it is ,” Dustin insisted, “You’re like awesome, even cooler than highschool, I swear to god.”
It was wild to hear him talk about everything so casually, like Eddie, and apparently Steve, being queer was just a non issue. That would take some getting used to.
Dustin was twirling car keys in his hand, the now empty backpack hanging from his shoulder, “You ready?”
“As much as I ever will be.”
It was strange to casually walk out of the hospital, fully intact. If this whole alternate reality or future, or whatever the fuck was going on was real, then being able to move at all was an amazing blessing. He brushed his fingers against his sides as Dustin led the way. The deep scars at least proved he wasn't completely insane.
He glanced around the parking lot, quickly realizing he didn’t recognize anything.
“This isn’t Hawkins.”
Dustin smiled, walking up to Steve’s familiar BMW, the old girl had survived the years to Eddie’s surprise. He would have bet money one of those kids would have totaled it by now.
“It’s Boston, the second you could leave you were out of Hawkins, just like you always said. Let’s see,” Dustin counted it out on his fingers, “Robin followed Nancy here, then Steve followed Robin, so of course you followed Steve, then Max and I had to be near our parents, so we came, and Lucas obviously came with Max and…I think that’s it? The others visit though.”
“Co-dependent, much?” Eddie asked with a smirk, sliding into the passenger seat. Though, he’d be lying if he wasn’t tickled pink that they were still all together. Who would have guessed that many people willingly wanted to be near him?
It felt wrong to watch Dustin get in the front seat, twenty or not he was still a kid in Eddie’s eyes. Six years was a long time, sure, but it still didn’t feel like enough to have Steve trusting his car with any of the rugrats. If he held onto the door handle a little tighter than usual when Dustin pulled out, he couldn’t be blamed.
“So…I didn’t die.” He didn’t say it as a question, more like testing the statement in his mouth. It still didn’t sound right, not after what he went through.
“No you didn’t, thank god.” Dustin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, displeased at the memory, “But you were close. Like really close. You were in the hospital for a month.”
Eddie wanted to know more, especially on how he even got out of that hellhole, but the image of blood red skies and screeching monsters stopped him. It was fresh enough in his damaged head, a little distance from it could do him some good.
“Did I graduate?” he asked instead.
Dustin shook his head, “You never went back to that school and I can’t say I blame you,” he hesitated, with something a little too close to pity in his eyes, “People weren’t very good to you in Hawkins man, but you got your GED in 87, so you had the last laugh.”
“What about Wayne?” Eddie asked, his mind immediately jumping to their promise, “He’s okay, right?”
“He’s still there, but out of the trailer park. He even has a girlfriend now. You fly them out for holidays and stuff.”
That made Eddie grin, “My uncle? A lady's man? Who would have thought?”
Eddie would have thought, but ever since Wayne took him in he never had time to see anybody, not with working night and day to provide for his orphaned nephew. The idea that Eddie could actually afford to fly him in for a vacation was…heart-warming.
Dustin looked at Eddie, raising a brow, “Does this still count as broad strokes? Are you feeling okay?”
He nodded, even if he was beginning to feel a slight twinge near where his bandages were, “I’m good, you can keep telling me how amazing I am.”
Dustin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, happy to see Eddie a bit more at ease.
“What do I even do out here anyway?”
“You live with Steve, take night classes, and play in an almost successful band,” he laughed to himself a little, “You guys are really on the edge of taking off.”
Now that was surprising. “Corroded Coffin lives on?”
“Alive and well, you went on tour last summer and made like actual money.”
The ache in his head was getting worse, but he pushed it aside, too excited to hear about his seemingly wonderful life, “Henderson, if this is some elaborate prank I’m going to be pissed. ”
“Oh sure! I had a growth spurt overnight for the sole purpose of convincing an amnesiac that his life isn’t shitty.”
That…was a good point.
Still, he wasn’t quite ready to fully concede that this was reality, not after all of the shit he’d seen. Though the blinding pain in his head made him pretty fucking sure it wasn’t a dream. Eddie rapped his nails against the dashboard, successfully distracting himself from it.
“Me and Steve huh?”
Dustin nodded, “You and Steve.”
The nausea was back now, and he was having a little trouble hearing through the loud pounding in his skull. He knew he should stop talking for a second, but…he really wanted to know more.
“Since when was he gay?”
Dustin shrugged, “Since you. It was a whole embarrassing mess but he figured it out eventually,” he glanced at Eddie, frowning when he realized he was sweating a little, “How’s your head? This isn’t too much is it?”
“It’s still fine,” he lied, wiping a bit at his brow, “How long have we been together?”
Dustin smiled to himself, keeping his eyes on the road, “I say ever since Steve carried you out of the Upside Down, but neither of you ever agree with me.”
Eddie nodded along, smiling on the inside, but looking absolutely ill on the outside. He really needed to shut the fuck up for a second, that doctor wasn’t kidding about the headaches.
He turned towards the window, hiding a bit from Dustin. He didn’t need him tattling to Steve later about this, the little mama’s boy.
He watched the city go by with wide eyes. He had made it out of the hell hole that was Hawkins to actual civilization. They were flying past the tall nice buildings and well landscaped parks, heading towards the cheaper part of town. His neighborhood looked dingy and crowded, just how he had imagined it would be.
And just like how he wanted it.
They pulled up to a worn down apartment complex. It looked pretty shitty on the outside, which made Eddie feel even more at home. His headache was receding a bit as they went up the steps, but there was still a significant throbbing.
“Here we are!” Dustin exclaimed as he unlocked the door, “Welcome to the pit!”
That was a pretty rude name for what was frankly, an awesome apartment. Eddie had never seen a place with black brick walls before, and from the sloppy paint job he was pretty sure he was the one who did it. The living room was plastered in band posters, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Metallica, perfectly matching the mismatched furniture. Guitar picks were scattered across the coffee table and an amp was plugged into the corner, with what he hoped was his guitar standing against it. It looked too nice to be his, but…so did this entire life.
It was like a metalhead wonderland. He was in actual awe as he wandered inside, spinning to see a full view of the room.
“How did I ever convince Steve to do all of this?”
Dustin snorted, “You can convince Steve to do anything.”
He nodded towards one of the couches, “You should sit for a while. Like no offense dude, but you kinda look like shit.”
Eddie wiped a hand to his brow, grimacing at how wet it came back. So much for hiding it. He laid face down on the couch, under Dustin’s watchful eye.
Dustin walked past the black walls into the kitchen, comfortable and familiar with the place, “I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And probably some food, are you hungry?”
“I’ll take whatever you got,” Eddie called back, still enraptured by the living room he so obviously designed, “Thanks Henderson!”
Eddie burrowed deeper into the couch with a happy sigh. Headaches be damned, nothing could bring him down right now. The couch was comfortable, definitely on the older side. Every shift Eddie made had the springs creaking. It was…an oddly familiar sound. He curled deeper into it, trying to place where he heard it last.
The memory hit him like a train, closer to a vision than anything else.
~
“Rock, Paper, Scissors,” they said in unison, “Rock, Paper, Scissors…God Damn it!”
Eddie laughed, triumphantly holding up their clasped hands.
“Paper beats Rock Stevie,” he singsonged, “Sorry Princess, but you lose!”
Steve groaned, yanking his hand away to sulk. He flopped face down into the couch, not even trying to be diplomatic with his defeat.
“I told you it was a stupid game!” he whined, his voice muffled, “Real rocks bust through paper anyway.”
Eddie sat on top of him, the creaking springs drowned out by his laughing. He tickled at his neck, forcing Steve to come out of his hiding place to bat him away. Now, he could finally see that certifiable pout, “Aww, babe, don’t be like that! You’ll get the bedroom.”
He glared up at Eddie, trying so hard to sell his fake indignation, “You’re going to ruin that brick, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie draped himself over him, playing with his ear, “Think all black walls Stevie, a real show stopper!”
Steve turned over, almost toppling Eddie to the ground. Steve was just able to save him from falling on his ass. They were laying on top of each other now, and Eddie had the full view of Steve Munson, the prettiest brat that the world ever saw. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck, pulling him a bit closer to those luscious lips.
“I’ll make our room baby blue if you do it,” he threatened, failing to hide his little smile, “It will be so pastel you won’t be able to sleep at night.”
“I’ll always be able to sleep if I have you next to me.”
Eddie watched him blush, loving how simple it was to make him flustered, even after years. Steve stared up at him, embarrassed and lovestruck. “Oh come on! That’s cheating!”
“Nah,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss that pretty mouth, “You’re just easy.”
~
Eddie sat up quickly, too quickly. The room spun for a second, but he still wobbled to his feet, sickness be damned. He marched down the hallway, opening the second door to the right, just knowing where it would lead.
He looked around, immediately grinning. There it was, ugly baby blue walls in all their glory. He could hear Dustin coming up behind him. He spun around meeting him halfway in the hall. He put his hands on his shoulders, no doubt looking insane with the manic grin he had on. He nearly knocked the water out of Dustin’s hands in his excitement.
“Didn’t I tell you to sit-”
“I remembered something!”
“Already?!”
“Already!”
He told Dustin everything, the game, the couch, the weird instinctual memories that came immediately after it happened. All from one sound. If this could happen on the first day, there was no doubt everything else would start flooding in.
This was going to be so easy.
The doctor had been right, there was zero pain when he remembered something naturally. But it was still weird. The memory was so singular, Eddie couldn’t really count it towards feeling like who he was supposed to be. It was almost like he was a voyeur on his older self, and it was bizarre. Bizarre, but hopeful.
They ate sandwiches at the kitchen table, Eddie answering all of Dustin’s questions with enthusiasm. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they both startled when the phone rang, Dustin jumping up to get it.
It’s Steve, he mouthed at him. Eddie watched as Dustin murmured into the phone awkwardly, making it painfully obvious that they were talking about him.
Little tattle tale.
He only spoke up when they changed the subject, pinching his brow in frustration, “Dude, don’t apologize, come on! I forgot too!”
He paused, listening, “Okay. Okay! No, you’re right.” Dustin mumbled, conceding to whatever point Steve made.
He turned to Eddie, holding up the phone, “He wants to talk to you.”
Eddie almost brained himself for the second time in his haste to get to the phone. He snatched it from Dustin’s hand, too nervously excited to be polite.
“Eddie?” Steve’s staticky voice asked, “How are you feeling?”
Eddie grinned, touched that was the first thing out of his mouth, “Better, way better. Already remembered something even. Not much, but something.”
“Really!?”
His excitement was adorable, “Mmhm, and as I recall, someone sucks at Rock, Paper, Scissors.”
Steve laughed on the other end , “I stand that it’s a dumb game! You gotta tell me everything when I get home okay? I’ll be there in an hour, two tops.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Will you be okay to be alone until then? Dustin has to leave to take a midterm, but I can probably send Max over-”
He laughed, “I’ll be fine Stevie,” he almost missed that sharp inhale on Steve’s end, “Overprotective much?”
Steve, honest to god, giggled at that, “Well excuse me for caring about my invalid husband-”
“Invalid?!”
“Who almost killed himself by being a dipshit. I think I’ve earned the right to worry.”
“You fit the nagging spouse troupe perfectly Steve, not gonna lie.” Eddie waited, hoping for a laugh but only got radio silence.
“Steve? Did I lose you?”
“No, no, I’m still here, but um…” he paused, taking a deep breath on the other line, “Is that okay? To…call you that still?”
“Well…that’s who I am aren't I?” Eddie was twirling the phone cord like a love-struck teenager, and honestly, that wasn’t too far off from the truth.
“Seriously Eddie, I could wait until you remember if it makes you uncomfortable-”
“Baby, you can call me anything you want.” His face was burning from using the pet name, but they were married, he was allowed to be an embarrassing flirt. And it worked too, Steve was back to laughing, and he sounded so relieved.
“I’ll hold you to that Munson,” he teased, “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.”
By the time Eddie hung up the phone, Dustin was ready to leave, awkwardly standing in the doorway, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Positive,” Eddie walked over to him, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thanks for everything man, I mean it.”
He hugged back, “I’ll see you tomorrow. And work hard to remember me, okay? We’ve done a lot of cool shit together since you almost died!”
Eddie watched him go, waving at him through the kitchen window as he got into Steve’s car.
He was actually pretty happy to have some alone time.
He needed a minute to just be.
This whole thing was so fucking surreal that he was only ninety percent convinced it wasn’t bullshit. Twenty-six year old Eddie’s real life was better than twenty-year old Eddie’s dreams. He could almost laugh. Who the fuck would have thought?
He drifted back into Steve's room, no, their room. Even with the preppy décor, there were signs of himself everywhere. His rings were strewn across their dresser, there was a pile of unstable fantasy books crowding the left nightstand, and his old guitar, the same one that saved them from the Upside Down, hung on the wall.
He sat on their bed, taking it all in. There were framed pictures all over the place, all with some happy combination of their strange little family. He plucked one off from the side table, heart melting at the sight.
It was of him, young him, looking sickly and pale in a hospital bed, but grinning from ear to ear, with everyone he cared about crowded around him. The kids were piled on the bed with him, Dustin and Mike sticking their tongues out at the camera, Wayne was by his side looking terribly awkward in the face of Eddie’s new eccentric found family, Robin was making bunny ears behind Steve’s head, smiling like a mad woman.
And Steve…Steve wasn’t even looking at the camera, his focus was on Eddie, with that exact same soft expression he gave him earlier.
His eyes stung a bit as he looked at it, tracing everyone’s face with his fingers. His own mind couldn’t conjure up something as sweet as this. It was enough evidence for him to finally admit it to himself.
This was real.
He wiped at his eyes, embarrassed for reasons he couldn't quite parse out. He set the photo down, deciding then and there that he was going to look through everything in this house. If anything here had the potential to bring back a little piece of this life, then Eddie was going to find it.
He started with their dresser, feeling the tiniest bit bad for snooping around. But technically it was his own shit he was looking though, even if he didn’t know what it was yet.
He started digging through drawers, hoping something would jog his memory again, sooner than later. Despite Steve wearing his clothes today, his preppy sweater collection was still in play, to Eddie’s delight. The guy had the entire rainbow stacked in that drawer.
He didn’t find much else of interest as he dug around, clothes, underwear, a polaroid camera he didn’t recognize, and a small key buried in their sock drawer. He pocketed it, assuming it got mixed in with the laundry on accident. He’d ask Steve about it later.
He went to the bathroom next, inspecting every half used hair product in sight. This was definitely Steve’s space. There’s no way that Eddie could be the one with a five-step skin care routine or three different brands of hairsprays. He smiled to himself, looking down at the crown on his hand.
He really did marry a princess.
He wandered back into the bedroom, debating what he wanted to look through next. On a whim, he kneeled down, checking to see if there was anything under the bed. There wasn’t much, it looked like it was just a storage space for extra pillows and blankets. It was so mundane that he almost missed the small glint of metal hiding underneath one of the comforters.
Curious, he pulled it out, revealing a large lock box, with some writing on the top.
Don’t blame us for what you see here you little shits!
It was Eddie’s handwriting, bold black sharpie in block letters. He even slapped a DANGER sticker on there. Pretty dramatic honestly, considering how it was locked to begin with. He plopped it on the bed, examining the lock. It looked like just the right size for that little key. He fished it out, only slightly surprised when it actually worked.
Lucky him.
He popped the top open, eyes-widening as he stared into the box. He blinked, not truly processing what he was seeing for a second.
It was a treasure trove of sin.
Handcuffs, blindfolds, paddles, a collar with a crown-shaped Daddy’s Boy tag, lingerie, all of his perverted desires stacked up in one box. Briefly, he wondered if Steve had made him his bitch over the years, because there was no way that the guy who bit a demon bat’s head off, would prance around in pretty panties and call Eddie “The Freak” Munson his daddy.
Even if all of his fantasies had Steve mewling under him, he could learn to live with the alternative. There were worse things. At least his virginity was no longer in question.
He shifted through the box, his hands slightly shaky as he looked over the array of toys. His eyes landed on something out of place, a stack of marked envelopes lining the bottom. They were labeled by season, going from 1989 to 1992. Curious, he choose one at random, opening it up. He shook the contents onto the bed, realizing that they were polaroids. He flipped the first one over, heart-stopping in his chest at the sight.
There he was, his heroic, manly Steve, on his knees with a hand pulling at his hair, tilting his face up to look at the camera. He was wearing that fucking collar, dopily grinning up with cum dripping down his chin.
That was Eddie’s hand in his hair, he would recognize his rings anywhere.
He picked up another one, feeling light-headed from the blood rapidly traveling south. It became clear, fairly quickly that Eddie was the main photographer of the two, they were almost all of Steve.
Steve from behind, his ass in the air, Eddie’s tattooed hand spreading the pert globes to show off his wet hole. Steve, with his head hanging off of the bed, lips suspiciously red and wrapped around Eddie’s cock, his big brown eyes staring upward. Steve, soft and asleep, tangled naked in the sheets.
There were dozens of them, all just from one season.
The things Steve let him do to him were… beautiful . Utterly gorgeous and filthy.
Eddie was hard, of course he was hard. He had a personal collection of Steve Harrington (Munson?) pornography, feautring himself in every other shot. The guy was stunning on a bad day, but these were just sinful . How Eddie managed to do anything that wasn’t fucking Steve or flipping through these masterpieces he didn’t know.
He slipped a hand down his sweats, palming at his erection with a harsh breath. It almost felt wrong to touch himself to photos of Steve when he looked so vulnerable and sweet, but…Steve was his, if he remembered it or not, and these pictures definitely proved that.
He flipped to the next one, biting his lower lip hard when it came into view. He stroked himself faster, groaning at how wet the head of his cock already was. He wasn’t going to last long.
There Steve was, on his hands and knees, taking Eddie’s cock like he was made for it. Eddie’s hand was pulling hard at his hair, forcing him to turn at least slightly for the camera. His pretty face was covered in tear tracks and drool, his tongue lolling out uselessly.
Eddie was starting to think that Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. That thought alone had him rapidly getting closer to the edge. He could imagine it perfectly, how right his hand would feel in those locks, making his boy cry on his dick. He shivered, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the photo, in awe that he’d had this.
God, he would give anything to remember what it felt like inside of Steve. He felt a flare of jealousy, suddenly pissed at his future self for being such a moron and making him forget all of this. He let his eyes wander, appreciating the lovely arch of Steve’s back. He stopped at his neck, noticing a small mark right below his hairline.
He brought the photo closer to his face, moaning when he realized what it was. A little heart shaped tattoo, with the initials, EM sitting right in its center. Eddie quaked, coming thick and heavy in his pants at the realization of what that meant, feeling an overwhelming sense of possession. He let go of himself, quickly oversensitive from the best orgasm that he could remember.
He finally tore his eyes away from the photo, staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath.
He had a sudden burst of frustration, impatient to remember what being with Steve was actually like. He was going to hate cats for the rest of his life if this lasted months. He brought the picture back to his face, maybe just to torture himself a little.
This was going to be so hard .