Chapter Text
this is a story about
two young lovers with nothin' better to do
than sit around the house, get high, and watch the tube,
and here is what happened
when they decided to cut loose
Take the Money and Run, Steve Miller Band
Steve
Steve wheels his car into as close of a parking space at the dorm building as he can find. It's still a hike back to the door, but it'll have to do for now. He pulls the do-it-yourself shelving box out of his trunk and jogs back across the parking lot with it. He's been helping move Robin into her dorm room at college all weekend, and they realized earlier that she probably needed a shelf for storage, so he ran to Walmart and found something that should work.
He's made that same trip half a dozen times this weekend, for one thing or another. He had no idea moving into a dorm was so much work. Movies make it seem like you just drop them off at the curb and wave goodbye.
That has definitely not been Steve's experience.
So far he's had to go buy a rug, because the tile was too cold on her feet. A set of bedding, because apparently the dorm has extra long beds? He doesn't know. All he knows is her sheets wouldn't fit and Robin was freaking the fuck out, so he found a mom in the hall and just asked what he needed to buy. She sent him to the store looking for twin XL bedding. Apparently that's a thing and it should have been in her orientation packet.
Robin was panicking about the unexpected extra costs, but he just pulled out his platinum card and waved her off. It's not a big deal. She can pay him back later, or not. He doesn't really care either way at the moment.
He had to run and buy himself a couple new shirts, socks, underwear, deodorant and a toothbrush, because he hadn't planned on staying overnight. Twice.
It is not lost on him that he's wearing cheap, dorky clothes and his hair looks terrible without his own products, all while he's surrounded by a sea of college girls. That's just his fucking luck.
His only condolence is that they definitely weren’t paying any attention to him before his change of clothes either, so he takes the loss and moves on.
He's there to focus on Robin, anyway, and has spent most of the weekend alternating between doing the heavy lifting and hugging her tight, assuring her that she’s going to do great. That it’s going to be so great. She’s a nervous wreck, so Steve stays until she’s finally comfortable enough for him to leave on Sunday evening.
Her new roommate definitely thinks he’s Robin's overly clingy high school boyfriend. He can understand why she thinks that, since they were sharing a bed. But he didn't really have much choice but to cling to her unless he wanted to fall out on his ass. Either way, neither of them made any corrections. If Robin wants to use him as a cover story until she's comfortable, he's fine with that.
He might not be her boyfriend, but they are definitely co-dependant, so splitting hairs seems like a waste of everyone's time.
Steve hugs Robin tight, kisses her on the forehead and promises to call soon. Tells her she can call him, day or night.
He’s going to miss her like crazy, and doesn't want to be left behind, alone, but he refuses to put that stress on her. He wants her to have fun, to succeed. To get the fuck out of Hawkins. If he takes his own selfish wants out of the equation, he hopes she cuts and runs and never comes back to that hellhole.
Hawkins has been quiet since summer ended. With the bustle of back to school over, Steve feels a little more adrift than ever before.
The kids have started up for the year and are all busy with new activities, old friends. He’s happy for them too, he wants them to have a normal year for once. It’s been so goddamn hard the past few years, so traumatizing, that he hopes that they are able to just worry about dumb high school bullshit and nothing more.
Steve kills the engine of his car in front of the video store. He hates it here without Robin, but doesn’t have the energy to look for something else. So he’s just going through the motions, coasting. Aimless, shiftless.
Everyone else has moved on and Steve feels stagnant. He's still working his dead-end job, still trying to pick up the same chicks. He's almost twenty. He's going to have to give up dating fresh out of high school girls before he's known as the townie perv that people whisper about.
The only bright spot, which is very much hit-or-miss, is Eddie. Eddie is still popping into the video store to bother Steve or just showing up at Steve’s house, late at night. Crashing there for days at a time. Sleeping on the couch fully dressed, refusing to just take a guest room.
Steve oscillates between being entertained by Eddie or being really, really annoyed. Steve accepts that it is a day-by-day situation, where he never knows how it is going to go until they are in the thick of it for the day. He thinks he likes Eddie (most days, anyway) but on others he finds Eddie to be the most irritating person he’s ever met.
Eddie had graduated. The school had given him his diploma, if he promised to just take it and not walk across the stage. Eddie took the deal. Steve thinks that’s a bunch of bullshit, but he understands the desire to just keep your head down. The town is still pretty shitty towards him, but Eddie seems to just shrug it off most days. Steve isn’t sure how he does it, honestly.
Afraid of a lawsuit, or worse, a leak, the government offered Eddie a settlement. An eye-wateringly large settlement, to just shut the fuck up about everything he saw and everything that happened to him. Eddie took that deal, too. Signing the NDA and taking the big payout. Steve sat next to him while Dr. Owens explained everything, goons in black suits standing guard.
“I can still talk about it with those people that were there, right?” Eddie had asked, pen hovering over the paper, glancing at Steve, then back at Dr. Owens.
Steve could tell Dr. Owens and his team wanted to say no, to tell him he had to pretend it never happened at all. But he must have seen the scared boy, the traumatized kid, sitting there, just like Steve could see with his own eyes.
Finally, Dr. Owens conceded that it would be okay to talk to his friends that were there and already knew, but nobody else. Uncle Wayne knows, at least the bare minimum, but they weren’t going to disclose that information. It’s kinda hard to completely ignore a closed-off portal to hell in the ceiling of one’s own living room.
Steve pretended he didn’t see Eddie’s hand shaking as he signed the document and took the money.
When they got back into the car, Eddie was quiet. Steve fumbled around in his stash of tapes, finally popping the one he’d been looking for into the tape deck.
Hoo-hoo-hoo, go on, take the money and run
Eddie laughed, truly laughed, and Steve laughed with him.
“We should do something, like a road trip,” Eddie suggests, sitting on the counter at the video store, kicking his feet, making a racket. He’s annoying Steve today, it’s just one of those days. Steve grits his teeth.
Steve’s first instinct is to say no, no way in hell is he trapping himself in a car with Eddie Munson. But getting out of town wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. They both have money to burn. He's saved most of his paychecks and the generous allowance his parents have dumped into his bank account each month, like clockwork, since he was barely a teen. They aren't always present all that often, but they have always made sure he has whatever he needs, money wise.
Well, except for that summer at Scoops Ahoy when his dad thought he could teach him a lesson. But by that fall, the regular deposits were back hitting his account, and neither of them ever mentioned it again.
Steve doesn't know if they just gave up on him ever making something of himself, or if they felt guilty that he was almost killed in the “mall fire” or if they just flat-out fucking forgot they were ever supposed to be mad about something in the first place.
Either way, if he quits this depressing job, they’d both have the time. He only took it because he wanted to keep working with Robin and she's gone now, so.
“We could take the van,” Eddie offers.
Steve looks out the front windows at the van sitting in the parking lot, and no fucking thanks. “My car would definitely get better gas mileage.” And be more dependable, but Steve won't say that part out loud. He tries not to be rude, if he can get out ahead of his mouth. He's not always successful, but he tries.
Eddie smiles, pulling his hair over his mouth to hide it. Steve can tell he’s pleased that Steve is even considering this idea.
Later that night, after closing the video store, Steve warms up a frozen dinner in the oven, and eats it by himself in front of the TV. It is not an exciting life he's living these days. Confining himself in a car with Eddie Munson would definitely be interesting, he's absolutely sure of that.
Steve decides to sleep on it. It would definitely be an adventure. Maybe it would even be fun.
Or maybe Steve will spend the rest of his life in prison while he maintains that it was a justifiable homicide.
It could really go either way.
Eddie
“If we do this, there will be rules,” Steve says, hands on his hips. He always looks like a really pissed off mom when he does that, and it tickles Eddie. He’s made it a goal to see how many times he can make Steve do it in any given day. He thinks the standing record is somewhere around seven. If they spend excessive amounts of time together on a road trip, he’s sure he can break into double-digits. But they'd be sitting in a car a lot, and that would definitely make it harder to accomplish. He’ll figure it out. He has faith in himself.
“Rules?” Eddie asks, baiting him. Baiting Steve is his new favorite hobby. He loves to see just how fast he can get Steve wound up. He's usually pretty efficient at it. Which leads to Steve's hands on his hips, pissy, which is the ultimate goal. It's a nice feedback loop Eddie's built, if he doesn't say so himself.
“Rules. Like, there’ll be no eating in my car. You’re not driving my car. No heavy metal,” Steve keeps listing, “you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m-”
“I'll try to control myself,” Eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. Fucking girls in Steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him.
Steve continues, completely ignoring Eddie, “You’ll wipe your feet. You’re not dragging dirt all over my car. No hitchhikers. No cutesy road games. No smoking in the car. I’m not paying for all the gas.”
“Ass, gas or grass, got it,” Eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. He is not taking this seriously.
Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie thinks Steve is kind of a stick in the mud, but he still likes being around him, he truly does.
"I really want to do this with you,” Eddie says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “it sounds like a lot of fun for me.”
“Shut up,” Steve answers, “it just can’t be a free-for-all, Munson.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a little uptight, Harrington?” Eddie asks, genuinely curious. How was this person ever the coolest guy in high school? He’s such a square.
“Once or twice,” Steve admits, and that makes Eddie grin. At least King Steve is aware of his shortcomings.
Eddie plows ahead, “I’ll get us fake IDs. We can drink. Hit Vegas. Whatever we want to do. The world is our oyster. The king and his court jester,” he bows to Steve at the waist, dramatically.
Steve is rubbing his eyebrow like he already regrets agreeing to this. That makes Eddie smile.
Steve picks him up early Friday morning. Uncle Wayne comes outside onto the front step and waves at Steve, and Eddie sees Steve wave back before getting out.
“Make sure he calls every few days,” Wayne tells Steve, nodding towards Eddie.
Eddie had already promised to do it, so he feels a little like they are just ganging up on him at this point. They do that a lot. They had sat together many afternoons, plotting the best way for Eddie to invest his money and maximize the return. Steve eventually made an appointment with his, well, his dad's, financial advisor. They all three went together.
Eddie isn't sure what the hell they did, but his money they put away is actually growing, which is awesome.
“I'll make sure he calls,” Steve says, shaking Wayne’s hand.
Eddie feels like they are treating him like a little kid that needs babysitting. He’s older than Steve for Christ’s sake.
Eddie hugs Wayne, "The kids are coming next Saturday to help you move."
"I can do it myself, you know," Wayne grumbles.
"I know, but let them help you. I already paid them to help. Make them earn it, old man. And don’t let them rifle through my shit. I’m serious. If I find out Henderson has pawed through all my belongings-"
“Yes, yes, or you’ll have both our asses. We’re all very scared of you,” Wayne interrupts, with just a hint of a smirk, and Eddie doesn’t miss the quick glance Wayne gives Steve, who is trying not to laugh.
Eddie knows they’ve both heard this all before, but he doesn’t appreciate their collusion in making fun of him.
Negotiating a free upgraded relocation for Uncle Wayne into his government deal, was really his only non-negotiable sticking point. Either they agreed to it, or he wouldn’t sign. They begrudgingly agreed. They couldn't stay in this trailer, it was too depressing. Eddie had packed up all his stuff before leaving, now it's just sitting in his room in boxes, waiting for move-in day to arrive. It feels weird that this is the last time he'll ever call this place home. He grew up here. When he gets back, he'll live somewhere brand new.
Steve
He’s helping Eddie put his bags in the trunk when Eddie sees the nailbat, "Dude. Are you trying to get us both felonies if we get stopped by the cops?"
Steve hadn't thought of that. He’s never thought of that, in all the years he’s carried it in his trunk. Maybe he should have thought of that?
"Correction, are you trying to get me a felony? You in your polo shirt, with your BMW and your rich daddy will sure as shit be fine, I'm sure."
"It's just always in my trunk, just in case. We can drop it off at the house before we leave if you want to," Steve offers, hoping he looks as sheepish as he feels.
"Nah, but let's at least take it out of plain sight, man."
Steve nods, putting it under the tent and the sleeping bags, and the stack of towels he grabbed at the last minute, just in case.
“Are we planning on camping?” Eddie asks, looking skeptically at the pile of stuff in the trunk.
“Just in case,” Steve says, “you never know.”
Steve has several contingency plans.
When they settle into the car, Steve drops the Rand McNally atlas into Eddie's lap. "Get acquainted. This is your new best friend. Your new Bible."
"Oh. Um, I didn’t know I’d need to be able to read a map," Eddie says quietly, and Steve's heart jumps. Then Eddie laughs, flipping it open, "I'm fucking with you."
"You're an asshole," Steve laughs, but it was going to be much harder if Eddie couldn't read a map.
"Fair warning, though, I do have a shitty internal compass. Once we’re out of, well, Hawkins, basically."
Steve isn't bothered, "I think mine's pretty good, but if not, I borrowed this from Dustin," he tells Eddie, pulling a little globe compass from the center console, suctioning it to the dash.
“If that thing starts going haywire, we’re heading in the other direction. We are not heroes on this trip,” Eddie says, completely serious.
“Okay,” Steve says.
“No, I need to hear you say it, Harrington,” Eddie presses him.
“We are not heroes,” Steve says, appeasing him.
“Do you have a route in mind?” Eddie asks, glancing over at Steve.
Steve makes a decision, one he is absolutely certain he’ll live to regret.
“I’ll drive, you navigate,” Steve says, handing the route planning over to Eddie, “I’ll let you know if I have any special requests.”
Eddie smiles wide, all the way to his eyes, so Steve can’t be too mad about turning over control to Eddie for this. Steve doesn’t really care where they go, or how they get there. He’s been on tons of vacations as a kid, Eddie had said he’s barely been out of Indiana. So, Steve can let Eddie decide, let Eddie see whatever he wants to see in this huge country.
"Okay, before we go, document check," Steve says. He grabs the manilla envelope on the backseat, "Passport. Birth certificate. Traveler's checks." He lifts his ass off the seat, gets out his wallet, makes sure it is there, “Driver’s license.” He also has his Amex platinum card, but doesn't mention it.
Eddie unzips his backpack he’d tossed in the floorboard at his feet. He pulls out his certified copy of his birth certificate. "Uncle Wayne had to dig and dig, cussing me the whole time. I don't have a passport, though," he says, handing the piece of paper to Steve. He produces his wallet, quickly flashes it to Steve to show that he has his traveler's checks, which he didn't even understand until Steve took him to the bank to get them. And that he has his ID.
"This and your driver's license is all you need to get back into the US if we go into Canada or Mexico. I think."
"You think or you know, Harrington?"
"You'll just have to find that out for yourself."
“Oh, I do have this, though," Eddie says, pulling out a scrap of paper. It's paperclipped to their brand new fake IDs. He shows it to Steve. Harrington’s Car Rules. It’s a list of all the demands Steve had made the other day in the video store. Eddie paperclips it to the front of the atlas.
“Just so we don’t forget your very important rules,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face.
Steve laughs and shakes his head as he pulls away from the trailer, away from Hawkins.
"Where to?" Steve asks when they hit the edge of town.
Eddie studies the map on his lap. "Take 69, north."
Steve nods and heads north, Dustin’s little compass bobbling on the dash.
Eddie jams an Iron Maiden tape in the tape deck before they get out of Indiana, and marks it off his list with flourish. Steve thinks this is going to be a long couple weeks.
Notes:
Do I actually think the government would give Eddie a big payout? No. Do I think the Harrington's are bank rolling Steve? Again, no. But that's my MacGuffin, I guess. They needed unlimited money, and here we are, haha.
Chapter Text
these little town blues, are melting away
New York, New York, Frank Sinatra
Eddie
Eddie suggests that they try to hit all the states on the east coast. Just to say they’ve been to them. They’ve stopped for breakfast and Steve has the atlas spread open on the table in the diner. After studying it, he suggests going to Detroit and crossing into Canada and then driving through to New York and working back from there.
Eddie doesn’t have any better ideas, so he agrees.
Steve picks up the tab for breakfast and they are back on the road.
They are about to cross into Canada from Detroit. Now that they’re here, Eddie is nervous. He’s never been on a bridge like this before, let alone out of the country before. Steve seems calm, so Eddie tries to match his energy. But shit, it's hard. He has weed on him, the nailbat is in the trunk. Eddie is just about to start sweating.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Eddie asks, gripping the atlas in his hand.
“It’s fine,” Steve says, turning onto the bridge, “calm down.”
Eddie feels sick. Steve hands the border guard their driver’s licenses and does all the talking. The guard barely even glances at them before handing the IDs back. He doesn’t ask for their birth certificates. Eddie will never, ever tell Uncle Wayne if they didn't need them after all. The exchange with the guard is totally uneventful:
“Citizenship?” American.
“Where are you headed?” Niagara Falls.
“Reason for visit?” We’re on a road trip.
“How long do you plan to stay?” Just passing through, so, a few hours?
“Great, any questions?” Any suggestions on where to grab lunch?
The guard laughs, but does give them a recommendation just across the border in Canada.
“Have fun.” Thanks.
That was it? Nothing happens, they cross a big fucking suspension bridge and are in a whole other country. Fucking crazy. He left his trailer this morning, and before they’ve had lunch they are in another country.
They go to the little hole-in-the-wall the guy recommended where they, in fact, do have excellent burgers. Eddie buys lunch and it starts the custom that they’ll just take turns buying their meals, not ever worrying about splitting checks.
Eddie picks up a newspaper at a convenience store, and is flipping through it in the car as they sit in the parking lot.
“Holy shit, Ozzy is playing in Canada tonight,” he says, pointing at the article in the paper.
“The bat guy?” Steve asks, glancing over at Eddie.
“The bat guy,” Eddie confirms.
“Canada is big, Eddie. Where in Canada?”
“Toronto.”
Steve takes the map from Eddie’s hands, resting it against the steering wheel, starts doing the math, “An hour, maybe? Looks about the same distance as it is to Niagara Falls, honestly.”
“We can’t go! You told that border guy we were just passing through!”
“Eddie, they don’t care.”
“Well, we don’t have tickets,” Eddie counters, thinking that will put an end to it.
“Maybe we can get some?” Steve offers, tempting him.
Steve
Eddie buys tickets from a scalper and they get into the show. Ozzy comes out sitting on some sort of monster throne and Steve is absolutely sure he is not the target audience for this. He may have also bit a bat, but that’s surely the only place their Venn diagram overlaps. This is not really Steve’s thing. But Eddie lights them both a cigarette and Steve tries to enjoy the show.
Later, Steve just needs a breather, so he cuts out to go to the bathroom. On the way back in, he swings by the table selling merchandise and buys Eddie a tour shirt. Eddie wouldn’t take any money for Steve’s ticket, so he figures this is a good way to square up. Maybe Eddie will want to make a new battle vest out of it, since his last one was pretty nasty after Steve made it out of the Upside Down.
After the show, Steve tosses the shirt to Eddie on the way to the car.
“Thanks, dude, this is awesome,” Eddie says, smiling wide.
They drive straight through, late into the night, just to get back onto the United States side of Niagara Falls, because Steve knows Eddie will be a nervous wreck if they try to stay in Canada. Steve’s exhausted and is thrilled when his head finally hits the pillow in the motel room.
The next morning, drinking a cup of coffee with the cool breeze blowing across the water of the falls, Steve realizes he's forgotten to pack his coat and his thin Member's Only jacket probably won’t cut it for the whole trip.
"I probably need to get a coat."
"Did King Steve forget something? Let me alert the press," Eddie teases.
But, later, when they see a phone booth, Eddie hops out and riffles through the phone book, jotting down the addresses for a couple thrift stores. And off they go, Eddie navigating.
Eddie finds Steve a handful of coats to try on, but Steve thinks they’re all ugly. Steve suggested that they should just go to a mall, to make this way easier. Eddie, as always, had other plans. Frustrating plans.
Finally, Eddie finds a well-worn Levi's jean jacket with sherpa lining.
"Just try it on."
Steve does. It fits, looks fine, is comfortable, probably warm enough and Eddie seems to approve, so Steve takes it up to the counter to buy it. He only has to wear it for a few weeks, anyway.
As they’re standing there, under the glass, something catches Eddie’s eye, “Oooh, we definitely need that.”
Steve isn’t even sure what that is, a radio, he guesses, but he’s sure they don’t need it.
“What is it?”
“A CB! We can talk to people, strangers.”
Steve doesn’t want to talk to people, especially not strangers. Even more, he doesn’t want to listen to Eddie talk to strangers.
“No, absolutely not.”
“Steve!”
“Eddie!” Steve mimics, “Seriously, I don’t want you installing a CB in my car. No way.”
“Fine, you’re no fun.”
“As you’ve told me,” Steve answers, annoyed.
Eddie buys a sew-on patch at the Niagara Falls gift shop in the hotel lobby and he stops and gets a complimentary sewing kit from the front desk.
"What are you doing?"
"This can be your own battle jacket. Not bands, but places we visit," Eddie says.
Not really Steve's look, but whatever. He doesn't plan to wear this coat after the trip, anyway. If Eddie wants to decorate it, fine, especially if it will keep Eddie still and quiet for half an hour while he does it. That sounds like a fucking great idea to Steve.
Eddie sees Henderson, NY on the map. He suggests that they go take a picture by the sign and send it to Dustin. It starts a game, and they try to find as many towns named Henderson along the way as they can.
They find a one-hour photo processing place and drop off the couple rolls of 35mm film they've used so far. Steve buys several more boxes, thinking they are going to need way more than he packed. He also grabs a plain, leather photo album. They are going to need a place to store these pictures, he supposes. He doesn't just want photo envelopes strewn all over the car.
They eat lunch at a cafe down the block while they wait for the photos to be developed.
When they pick them up, the one of Eddie in front of the Henderson sign is hilarious, Dustin is going to love it. He hands the duplicate to Eddie to put in the album. Eddie starts a section he's dubbed Hendersonville.
They go buy a box of envelopes and some stamps. They argue over Dustin's address, but Steve is 100% certain they live on the same street, just on opposite sides of town. Eddie doesn't think so, so he stops by a phone booth and calls directory assistance.
"What's Henderson's mom's name?" he hisses at Steve.
Steve tells him Claudia, and after Eddie asks the operator, he begrudgingly writes down Cornwallis, yes, the same one Steve lives on, on the edge of his list.
Eddie addresses the envelope and drops it in the mail with a snarky note from the both of them.
"Look at these trees, man. Awesome," Eddie says, eyes glued out of the passenger window.
The fall foliage in Vermont is, in fact, beautiful. They find a little motel on the edge of the Green Mountain National Forest. Eddie just sits outside, looking at the scenery. Apparently he appreciates nature, as long as he's not running for his life. Steve never would have guessed.
Steve brings Eddie a cup of coffee he made in the little machine in the room and they sit side-by-side in the adirondak chairs, Eddie being still and quiet for maybe the first time all day.
When Steve comes out of the bathroom in his shorts, Eddie is already asleep on his back, fully clothed. It was two days of long hauls across Canada and New York into Vermont, and they are both exhausted. Steve makes a note to try and cut down on the drive time per day. They aren't in a hurry and 450 miles a day is probably a few too many, at least to do several days straight, anyway.
Steve wakes up with a start. His heart is hammering against his ribs, and he quickly realizes it’s because Eddie is having a nightmare. Steve throws back the covers and pads over to the other bed.
“Eddie,” he says gently, shaking his shoulder, “Eddie, it’s me. You’re okay.”
Sitting sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing Eddie’s shoulder. He’s done this more than once back in Hawkins when Eddie would crash at his house and end up having a nightmare in the middle of the night. Sometimes loud enough that it pulled Steve out of bed and down the stairs.
“Eddie,” Steve tries again, and finally Eddie jumps, awake, “it’s okay. It’s Steve, we’re in a motel in Vermont.”
Eddie nods, but doesn’t say anything, just rolls over, away from Steve.
Steve takes it as his cue to get up and get back into his own bed.
They drive through Vermont into the edge of Maine just to be able to say they’ve been, and then Eddie chooses Boston. So they head in that direction.
Eddie
Steve is using the outside bathroom at a gas station while Eddie shops inside. Eddie dumps the snacks on the counter, "And whatever he got on pump two, thanks," he adds, opening his wallet and fishing out several bills.
Eddie waits until Steve is in the car before marking off gas from the list.
"This isn't a one and done, Munson," Steve warns.
"It's marked off, it's finished! Don't you know how checklists work?" Eddie is winding him up and Steve is at least pretending to take the bait.
Sometimes Eddie has trouble telling when Steve is actually annoyed or when he's just playing along, participating in the bit. If Steve’s being goofy funny, he can tell. But sometimes Steve is dryly funny, and that’s just a little harder to read, because it leans so close to his attitude when he’s seriously had enough.
He's trying harder to tell the difference.
Steve
Eddie directs him towards downtown Boston. Before Steve knows it, Eddie has him out of the car and walking two and half miles down the Freedom Trail getting a history lesson. This was not at all what he imagined when they decided to do this thing.
Afterwards, Eddie leads him to the Boston Common where he forces him to ride the swan boats and the carousel. He feels like an idiot, but they have fun, so he sucks it up.
Steve gets them a room at a really nice, old hotel and before he can take his shoes off, Eddie is tugging him back out the door.
Eddie had asked around and found out the bar from Cheers is on Beacon Street, not far away at all. So they head there on foot, Steve is excited to take his picture out front, but is then disappointed that the interior looks nothing like it. They still go in and have a couple beers, Eddie’s fake IDs still working wonders.
After leaving Boston they swing through Rhode Island on their way to New York City.
They decide to spend several days in the city. They argue over what is an appropriate price to pay for a hotel, with them splitting the difference. Eddie didn’t want to stay at one of the luxury hotels and Steve didn’t want to stay in a fleabag. So they picked a place that seemed to be in a safe enough area, and had easy access to the train.
Eddie takes him to a show at CBGB their first night. It’s loud, so loud, but Eddie is lit up like a Christmas tree, so Steve can't help smiling with him.
Steve gets out of the shower, because he really felt the need to wash the city off of his body before going to bed.
Eddie is laying there, asleep, still dressed. All he's removed is his shoes.
It's like he's scared he may have to run at any moment. Steve finds it sad, but doesn't know how to bring it up. He starts taking the bed closest to the door. Starts asking for rooms not on the ground floor whenever possible. Makes sure the deadbolt is latched. He doesn't know what Eddie's scared of, so he's trying everything to ease his mind.
But Eddie keeps sleeping in his jeans and Steve is concerned. Eddie showers, he changes his clothes, he never smells bad, so it's not a hygiene problem. It's a sleep problem, Steve is pretty certain.
The next day they ride the graffiti-laden subway train to hop on the bright orange Staten Island Ferry to get a look at the Statue of Liberty.
Eddie leans against the railing, hair blowing in the breeze off the water. Steve snaps a picture of Eddie with Lady Liberty behind him.
Eddie
Eddie is standing in the doorway of the hotel bathroom, just watching Steve wash his face. He snaps a picture, and that makes Steve turn.
"What?" Steve asks, drying his face with the hand towel.
"You, like, wash your face? With something other than a bar of soap in the shower?"
Steve looks horrified, "Doesn't your face always feel dry and tight?"
Eddie just shrugs. Maybe? How is he supposed to know, it just feels like his face always feels. He just knows Steve's picturing a bar of Irish Spring and getting skeeved out.
"Don't wash your face with body soap, it'll dry you out," Steve says, squeezing something onto his fingertips.
"What's that?" It looks expensive.
"Moisturizer," and Eddie has moved over to stand next to him, just staring at him in the mirror, "is this really an unheard of concept?"
"Well, kinda," Eddie answers.
"I was a swimmer. Chlorine is very drying. My mom was scared I'd ruin my pretty face, so," he laughs, waving the bottle of Estee Lauder towards Eddie.
"Hmm." Rich people really do live different lives, Eddie thinks.
"Don't judge me, my skin is beautiful," Steve laughs, thinks for a second, adds, "you're a smoker, you might want to try using a little moisturizer once in a while. I'm just saying."
"Rude." But Eddie laughs.
"Well, I'm just saying nobody is questioning your fake ID," Steve teases.
Eddie shoves him. Nobody has questioned Steve's either, but he doesn't say that.
"Wash your face with this," Steve says, handing over the cleanser. "Then put on the moisturizer. You'll feel better. Trust me."
Eddie is washing his face, Steve watching.
"This is the gayest thing I've ever done," Eddie says. And he's sucked dick before, so that's saying something.
"Don’t say gay like it’s bad,” Steve says, automatically. Eddie knows that’s conditioning from Robin. It’s kind of sweet that he’s made the effort to learn and grow and all that shit.
Steve adds, “You'll be fine, I won't tell anyone you just learned how to wash your face as a grown man."
Eddie laughs, but he feels a little stupid. Uncle Wayne definitely isn't washing his own face like this, let alone teaching Eddie how to do it. This is one of those things you need a mom for, Eddie is pretty sure.
His face does feel better, in the end.
When they’re walking around town, Steve drags him into a Macy’s to buy them both new bottles at a makeup counter. Eddie’s never even been in a Macy’s before, he just knows about the Thanksgiving Day parade. Eddie is a little horrified at the price tag, but says thank you. Steve Harrington is mothering him, which is equal parts funny and kind.
Steve
"Put your wallet in your front pocket, Harrington," Eddie suggests.
"What? Why?" Steve asks, patting his back pocket.
"It's going to be a rough area, so do it, just in case."
"You didn't do it," Steve says, being a brat, but following his suggestion.
"Mine is on a chain, I might notice them trying to pickpocket my whole body, Harrington."
“You think they can’t cut that flimsy chain? C’mon,” Steve taunts, tugging on the chain connected to Eddie belt loop, very clumsily pulling out Eddie's wallet, which gets away from him and falls and hits Eddie in the leg.
Eddie just rolls his eyes, puts his wallet back where it belongs in his back pocket. He holds open the motel room door for Steve, “After you, Artful Dodger.”
Steve scrunches up his face in confusion, "What's Artful Dodger?"
Eddie just laughs, "Read a book once in a while, Harrington," and locks the door behind them.
Eddie poses in front of a XXX movie house in Times Square, offering peep shows and dirty movies for 25¢. Steve digs in his pocket, hands Eddie a quarter.
Eddie just laughs and grabs his arm, pulling him further down the street.
Steve hates to admit it, but it's a rough neighborhood, and feels a little dangerous, kind of like Eddie said it would. Steve's approached by a hustler, he's not sure if the boy is selling drugs or sex, but Eddie steps in and the kid backs off. Steve is sure he looks like an easy mark in his preppy polo shirt. Eddie, however, does not. Which Steve is thankful for, right now.
It is kind of hilarious because Steve knows Eddie has a much softer core than Steve ever dreamed of having, but Eddie has the right look to get people to back the fuck off. They've quickly learned to use the preconceived notions about both of them to their advantage.
Steve deals with authority figures, plays it up like he's Eddie Haskell. He checks them into hotels. He gets them into nicer restaurants. Eddie, Munson not Haskell, gets them into bars and keeps the riff raff at bay. It’s a nice trade off that’s worked well so far.
They eat bagels in a little shop on a corner, looking out the window at the traffic on the street before trekking over to the natural history museum. Eddie is in awe of the dinosaurs on display, circling and circling, having Steve take his picture next to it. After Boston, and now this, Steve feels a little bit like they are on a school field trip, instead of the wild road trip he was promised, but whatever.
Eddie soaks up information like a sponge. Steve is barely reading the plaques on the exhibits.
Eddie is looking at the bronze Atlas statue in Rockefeller Center. Steve is looking the other direction and up, way up.
St. Patrick’s Cathedral is breathtaking. He’s not religious in the slightest, his last name is Irish, or so he’s been told, but that’s about it. But there’s something about it that is making him feel awestruck. The architecture alone feels like nothing he’s ever seen before. He knows he can’t do it justice in a photograph. It’s something you just have to see in person.
But he tries anyway. Steve’s no photographer, but he takes a picture from behind the statue, with the church showing through the globe.
Their last night in NYC, Steve takes Eddie to Keens for a steak. His dad had taken him there once when he was little, when he'd gotten to tag along on a business trip. He remembered it being a really good meal. Maybe that was just because he was actually being paid attention to one-on-one by his dad that night, after days of him being in meetings, Steve left at the hotel with his nanny. But after cutting into his steak, Steve realizes, no, it really was a good meal. His memory wasn’t rose-colored at all.
Steve figured Eddie would like the history of the place, the pipes on the ceiling.
Eddie is as dressed up as Steve has ever seen him, and Steve appreciates the effort, but it wasn't necessary as far as he's concerned. He would have taken Eddie in his ripped jeans and Hellfire shirt. He doesn't care what people think, what judgments they want to pass, not anymore. But Eddie had pulled a plain white button up out of his bag, and had ironed it in the hotel room. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his tattoos on his arms. The collar is unbuttoned, showing a hint of a tattoo Steve's never seen before.
They've been on the road over a week and Steve realizes he's never seen Eddie without a shirt on. That's probably weird. Maybe he's self-conscious about the bat bite scars? Steve has matching ones, and some gnarly scars on his back from being dragged across the dry lakebed, so if anyone would understand, it's him. He knows they are probably still red and raised, Steve's certainly are and Eddie's are probably worse.
When they finish eating and step out onto the sidewalk, Eddie leans close, bumping his shoulder, "Thanks, Steve. That was the nicest meal I've ever had."
"Me too," Steve agrees, even if he isn't sure that's actually true. His parents have dragged him to all manner of fancy dinners in his lifetime.
But that steak, with Eddie sitting across the table sipping on an old fashioned, just talking to each other comfortably, was the nicest dining experience he's ever had, that much is absolutely true.
He has the wild thought that it’s the best date he’s ever been on, and it wasn’t even a date. He’s not sure what that says about his love life these days.
Notes:
Photo Credits: Ozzy is from that actual tour date, and is posted on Ozzy's official site. (Is that cigarette in the frame not the most 80's thing in the world?!) The photo of Times Square was published in Life magazine in July, 1986. Joe is from Rogue Magazine, I believe.
And I have formatted the photos for mobile. So they are pretty big on a desktop, sorry! There was no way to make them look exactly how I wanted on both.
Chapter 3: Go Your Own Way
Summary:
Thanks so much to those of you who left comments or kudos to let me know you were enjoying this so far! It's very appreciated! <3
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
you can go your own way, go your own way,
you can call it, another lonely day
Go Your Own Way, Fleetwood Mac
Steve
Eddie grabs a newspaper whenever he can when they stop places. He finds cool things going on in the area, sometimes, but he mainly gets it for the crossword puzzle.
Steve has seen Eddie fill them out in several states by now. He feels a little guilty, he definitely thought Eddie was probably a little slow. He had three senior years, for fuck's sake, it's not that far-fetched of an idea. But, he's clearly not. His mind is sharp as a fucking tack. Steve suspected it this summer, but now after spending so much time together, Steve's certain, 100%, that he's way dumber than Eddie Munson. That's a kick in the pants. He wonders if Eddie was just lazy in high school, or if the school made everything extra difficult for him, just because they could. Both seem entirely plausible.
He hates to think it, but Steve's pretty sure they would have let him coast on out of there, on time, no matter what, on his last name alone. Typical Hawkins, a big bunch of bullshit.
"How are you so good at those?" Steve finally asks, glancing over.
Eddie pauses, looks over at Steve, "Uncle Wayne does the one in the Hawkins Post every night. Has been as long as I can remember. He started doing them with me when showed an interest. Now we get two papers on Sunday and race to finish. Sometimes I beat the old man, but not often."
"You must be really smart. I can never do them."
"Not really. They just take practice. The longer you do them, especially if you're doing them from the same paper, you will learn how they set them up. The uncommon words they like to use, that sort of thing."
"Still, my spelling is not great."
Eddie nods, and goes back to his puzzle.
They are silent for a while, then Steve asks out of the blue, "Should I grow a mustache?"
"Did you say should or could?" Eddie asks, biting back a smile.
"Just for that, I'm doing it," Steve declares.
Eddie
They made it to Atlantic City. They’ve been hanging out on the boardwalk all afternoon, and Eddie is just learning that Steve is surprisingly good at skee ball. He has a ton of tickets trailing to the floor. Eddie feels like he shouldn’t be surprised, Steve did play all the sports, so his hand-eye coordination must at least be passable.
Eddie goes out to buy saltwater taffy and when Steve catches up with him, he hands him a heavy white square.
Eddie turns it over and it's one of those cheesy decorated mirrors you can win at carnivals. This one is the cover for Master of Puppets.
Eddie is surprised and a little touched.
"Thought you might like it, if we can get it home without breaking it and getting seven years of bad luck."
"I love it. Thanks, Steve," he says, holding onto it tight. He holds out his box of taffy with his free hand, letting Steve dig around in it.
He ends up wrapping it in an old newspaper and puts it in the backseat pocket behind the driver's seat. He really hopes it makes it home safely.
Steve
The next morning, Steve sees the route Eddie is planning. Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. Can you die of a history overdose? Steve’s seriously concerned at this point. His brain might melt.
In Philadelphia, Eddie drags him into an old train station full of shops. Steve doesn’t think they have any need for raw chicken feet, but follows along to see what exactly Eddie is looking for. Finally he sees it, a little ice cream shop.
“Uh, no, I don’t want ice cream,” Steve is pretty sure he could totally never eat ice cream again and be just fine.
“That’s the oldest ice cream brand in the country, not your Scoops Ahoy mass produced trash. C’mon.”
Steve lets himself be led up to the counter. Eddie orders for both of them, and Steve takes the cone when he’s handed it.
“Vanilla? You drug me past raw animal parts for a vanilla ice cream cone?”
“It’s supposed to be the best,” Eddie shrugs, taking a lick of his as they start the trek back.
Steve agrees it is good ice cream, but it isn’t life-changing.
“Slug bug! No hit backs!” Eddie hollers, voice far too loud for a confined space, walloping Steve on the arm.
“If you hit me one more time, I swear to god, Munson,” Steve seethes. He thinks he might actually have smoke coming out of his ears.
Eddie just cackles, and is certainly going to hit him even harder the next time he sees another VW Beetle.
Ten days. Ten days might be his upper limit for continuous exposure to Eddie Munson.
Eddie is rushing them through Washington, D. C. and Steve is very confused. He was sure Eddie would have him in every museum on the National Mall, for hours. Steve really assumed they'd be spending the night here, just so Eddie could see as much as possible.
But Eddie does a very quick fly-by and gives Steve's directions out of town. Steve's definitely not sorry he's not getting another history lesson, but it's weird that Eddie doesn't want to make him do it anyway.
When Steve comes out of the gas station, Eddie is smoking while talking to a person Steve is absolutely certain is a hitchhiker. He may as well have a bindle, he's so clearly a hitchhiker. Eddie has proven he can make friends with anyone, anywhere, at any time. Steve thought people were supposed to be scared of him, but outside of Hawkins, that's definitely not true. Eddie talks to everyone. It's exasperating.
If this guy murders them, Steve will come back from the dead just to murder Eddie again for good measure.
Eddie just sort of tells Steve they are giving the guy a ride. Steve doesn't want to throw a hissy fit in front of a stranger, so he begrudgingly goes along with it.
He hands Eddie the candy he'd asked for.
"What’s this?" Eddie asks, waving it back in Steve's direction.
"Twizzlers?"
"I asked for Red Vines."
"Aren't they the same thing?"
Their new hitchhiker friend laughs in the backseat, and Steve braces for the monologue Eddie is surely about to unleash. But he decides to end it before it can even start, plowing ahead.
"You can't eat them in the car, anyway, so I guess it doesn't even matter," Steve says, snippy. Happy he's gotten the final word.
Eddie is wearing him out today, he's being a lot and that's saying something because he's always a revved up handful.
The guy, also named Steve, is totally fine, nice even. They drop him off at the nearest gas station when their routes diverge.
Eddie cackles with glee as he marks it off the list as they pull away, saying, "I might have liked Fake Steve better."
"I can turn around and drop you off with him." Steve says, but there's no real heat behind it.
Eddie pretends to think about it, "Nah, that's okay. You'll do. I mean, I still have homework to finish," he says, tapping the list.
Steve realizes all he's done is issue a list of challenges for Eddie. He has regrets.
"We are not listening to that shit," Eddie says, "don't you make me throw it out the window."
Steve looks at him defiantly. Shoves the tape in anyway. Gives him a smug smile when Toto’s Africa starts playing.
Eddie throws up his hands in disgust.
They eventually come to an agreement on the music. They both get to listen to what they prefer, sometimes, but since they are both fine with classic rock, it becomes the neutral choice. Uncle Wayne listened to those bands a lot while Eddie was growing up, along with some classic country, but Eddie doesn't think Steve will be as into that. So, rock it is. It's comforting in a way. To hear CCR or Eagles or Skynyrd.
It feels a little like home.
They hit Henderson, Maryland snapping more pictures and after they are developed, dropping them in the mail. Dustin had better be appreciating this.
Steve sees the notes Eddie's making in the atlas. It's kind of annoying, but he lets it slide. It's three years old and it's not like he's ever used it beyond the Indiana area before this trip. What does it really matter if Eddie leaves notes and doodles over Maryland?
Eddie
Eddie smiles when Steve sees the city limit sign: Harrington, Delaware.
He takes pictures of Steve with it and does his best to make him laugh.
Steve is kinda pissy today and he shouldn't have pushed his luck with the hitchhiker. But Fake Steve seemed normal enough and he couldn't resist the opportunity to mark it off the list.
Eddie is sitting on the wide, wooden boardwalk in Bethany Beach, Delaware. His legs slid through the wooden slats, dangling over the edge as he leans against his arms on the railing. Steve is standing in the surf, jeans rolled up, shoes in his hand.
Steve is still short-tempered. Eddie has tried to steer clear, tried to take up less of his energy. But it’s like he gets nervous and then he gets louder and louder. He can’t seem to rein it in.
Eddie knows by now that Steve is a little moody, easily annoyed. He’s trying not to push his buttons as often as he’d intended to do, when they started this trip. Steve’s been good to him. He’s not stupid, he knows Steve has no interest in most of the things Eddie wants to see, but he’s been game for tagging along. The least Eddie can do is try to not wear out his welcome.
He rushed them through D.C. because Steve was in no mood for it today.
So he'll sit here and be quiet, and wait for Steve to be ready to go find a hotel room. He won't make any more demands of him today, if he can help it.
The next day, they cross the Chesapeake Bay and when they approach the underwater tunnel, Eddie starts to panic a little.
“I don’t think I want to do this,” he says, looking at Steve.
Steve’s eyes get big, “Well, I am fairly certain we don’t have a choice at this point,” Steve kind of snaps at him and then they’re going down, under the ocean.
Eddie is digging his fingernails into his own palms. He’s not claustrophobic, at least he doesn’t think he is, but he doesn’t like the idea of all that water surrounding him. He is beginning to think he has an aversion to large bodies of water after all the shit at Lover’s Lake.
He thinks he’s survived it, only to find out there’s a second tunnel later. Jesus H. Christ.
Steve
Steve is fed up. Eddie is being incredibly loud, and incredibly annoying. It's been a very long day in the car, and Eddie didn't like the underwater bridge and tunnels in Virginia Beach and has told him so, several times. It's over, they're never going back, and Steve can feel the annoyance bubbling all through him. Every syllable out of Eddie’s mouth is like nails on a chalkboard. He won’t shut up, but isn’t exactly saying much of anything as far as Steve can tell. Just fucking nattering on and on.
Steve finally snaps, "Will you please shut up? I don't want to hear your mouth for at least the next hundred miles!”
Eddie stills, mid-sentence, then slumps back in his seat, finally quiet for the first time all day. Defeated.
They ride in the total silence Steve had demanded for a few miles. Steve hates it. He feels like shit, “Hey, not cool, man. I’m sorry,” reaching over and gripping Eddie’s shoulder, “I’m a dickhead.”
“I was being annoying,” Eddie says in return, “I’m sorry, too.”
Their truce doesn't last long.
They get into the hotel right on the water in Wilmington, North Carolina, late at night. Steve is all but dragging his bag into the elevator, hardly waiting for Eddie to keep up with him. He just barely curbs the urge to hit the close door button in his face.
It really boils over again the next day and Steve storms off down the waterfront until he's out of sight of the car and Eddie.
He walks until he finds a pay phone and calls Robin, telling her exactly how much he hates Eddie Munson.
"You don't hate him," she says, when he finally pauses from his tirade to take a breath.
"He's a weirdo and he's hyper, I don't like that," he says.
"Uh, I think we've all heard that complaint before and now we're best friends, so…"
"It's not the same thing and you know it!"
"Be nice to him. He's had a hard year."
"We've all had a hard year!" he screeches. He’s at an eleven. He is aware of it, even as his voice gets shriller and shriller and he can do nothing to stop it.
"Steve," she says, calmly, “Steve. You didn’t tell him you hated him, did you? Please tell me you didn’t do that. ”
“I didn't," he says, sulking, "but I do hate you a little bit right now,” he says.
“You can hate me all you want, it only makes my powers stronger,” she answers and he laughs.
Even Steve has enough self-awareness to know that Eddie would take that to fucking heart, he’s not like Robin, and Steve can’t bring himself to be that cruel. "I don't hate him, okay? I'm not a fan of him today, or yesterday, that's for damn sure, but I like him most of the time. We had fun in New York City."
"Tell me about that, then," she says.
So he does, and ends up in a better mood. He realizes he's been gone a really long time. Not only is Eddie probably pissed off, his parents are going to be very confused when they get this bill for his AT&T card.
“Embrace his eccentricities, Steve, you’ll have a better time if you do.”
“I know I’m not exactly a ball of fun.”
“You’re lots of fun, you’re just a little high strung sometimes. Don’t be so quick to be argumentative. Don’t always furrow your brows at him, it makes you look mad, even when you’re not mad,” and Steve definitely furrows his eyebrows in response. He didn’t know that was a thing he did. Now he’s going to be self-conscious about it. Thanks, Robin.
Robin continues, “He definitely enjoys some good banter, he’s smart and he’s funny, but that mean streak you have? The one that I love about you and wouldn’t change for anything in the world? Maybe don’t do that all the time with him. He’s not me, he’s kinder than we are. Be yourself, for sure, but you’re on vacation. Relax. Have fun with him. Let him make you act silly. Get to know him, really get to know him. I think you’ll like him, Steve.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to set me up with him,” he grumbles.
“I am! As friends, but I definitely am. Lean into it, you won’t regret it. I promise.”
“He’s making me learn things, Robin. I thought I was out of school!” he whines and she laughs in his ear.
Eddie
Eddie sits on the curb next to the car for a couple hours, too scared to wander away from it, afraid he'll come back and find it and Steve gone. Eddie has abandonment issues in spades, he knows that, even if he hates it about himself. He's the first to admit that this is giving him anxiety. He knows Steve doesn't know that, but it is still hard not to catastrophize right now. If Steve would just come back, he'd apologize and then be as quiet as Steve wants him to be.
Eventually, he needs to piss bad enough that he walks around the block to the corner store they passed earlier. He pees, gets a drink and a packaged sandwich. He thought he could be back in five minutes, but there was a line, and it was three blocks back instead of the one he remembered it being, so it took more like twenty or thirty.
He runs through his contingency plan on the walk back. He has his wallet, so he has money. He has his coat on. That's good. He doesn't have the rest of his stuff, it’s in the car since they’d already checked out of the hotel, but surely Steve will bring it home eventually. He can call Uncle Wayne. Hitchhike to the nearest bus station, get as far back as Indianapolis. If Wayne can't come pick him up, Jeff or Gareth probably would.
When he rounds the corner, Steve is sitting on the trunk of his car, head in his hands.
"Hey," Eddie says, stopping in front of him.
Steve snaps his head up, jumping down, pulling Eddie into a one-armed hug, "I thought you were gone. I didn't know how the fuck I was going to find you."
He looks like he could cry at any moment.
Eddie doesn't know what to say to make this better, so he hands his cup over, lets Steve take a drink, "I had to take a piss, but I was scared to leave the car, afraid you'd leave me."
"I wouldn't do that," Steve assures, "I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have left you sitting here so long, that was a douchebag thing to do."
"It’s okay. I'm sorry, too," Eddie says, then asks, "Are we done? Are we going home now?" Eddie opens the sandwich, hands Steve half. He missed lunch, so he assumes that Steve probably did, too.
Steve holds the sandwich, doesn't take a bite, is clearly chewing on his cheek nervously, "Do you want to go home? I don't. But if you want to, if you don't want to be around me anymore, we will."
Eddie leans against the trunk, right next to Steve, "You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm not done with you yet, Harrington."
Steve looks over, gives him a shy smile, "Yeah? Even if I'm an asshole?"
"Oh, I knew that going into this. I made an informed decision. Pro and con list, the whole shebang," Eddie teases, bumping their shoulders together.
Eddie holds out his sandwich wedge, and Steve does the same, tapping them together in a cheers motion, before each taking a bite.
Steve
They go to dinner at a fresh fish place right on the water and agree to take a break from each other every couple days, whenever one of them needs it. They just need to stay ahead of it. Just an afternoon, each on foot with a specific time to meet back up at the car, to keep them from pissing each other off as easily.
And if they really get separated in a city, they make a plan to meet at the first motel listed alphabetically in the phonebook.
Steve hits the Radio Shack before they leave town and buys them a pair of small walkie talkies. They aren't as legit as the ones the kids use back home, but they are pocket sized, which is a decent trade off. He hands them to Eddie when he gets back in the car.
"For when we're apart," he says.
Eddie smiles, and starts opening the box.
Notes:
Photo Credits: Bassets from Philly Mag, VW Beetle from CHiPs (doesn't that look like Steve's car behind it at first glance?!), Bethany Beach is a vintage postcard and The Ice House is from Dawson's Creek.
Chapter 4: Me and Paul
Chapter Text
We received our education
in the cities of the nation
Me and Paul, Willie Nelson
Steve
After going through Hendersonville, South Carolina, Eddie plans a route from Henderson, Georgia to Henderson, Mississippi. He’s clearly having fun trying to figure out how to hit as many of them as they can. Standing next to the latest Henderson sign, Eddie has decided that he can set the timer and then run and jump up on Steve’s shoulders during the ten second shutter delay.
He cannot.
Truly, absolutely, cannot. It’s not even close.
But he tries and tries until finally a person that has been watching from across the street has mercy and comes over to save Steve’s back from further abuse.
Steve squats down, holds onto the back edge of the wooden sign and lets Eddie climb onto his shoulders. He stands up, but it’s a bit of a struggle. He’s a little more out of shape than he’d anticipated. But Eddie throws his hands in the air, declaring victory, sending Steve wobbling. He grabs Eddie’s thighs, holding him steady, "Whoa, hold still."
The lady takes a few pictures for them and they both thank her.
Eddie slides down Steve’s back, pulling his hair a little on the way down, “Ow, easy on the hair, Munson.”
“Shit, sorry!” Eddie shouts in his ear, like they aren’t a foot apart.
They get back on the road.
Steve’s zoned out when Eddie speaks, “On a scale of one to ten, how much did you hate me when we first met?"
"I didn't hate you," Steve says, and he didn't, "I mean, I didn't understand you, but I didn't hate you."
“I know you thought I was a freak.”
“I still think you’re a freak,” Steve teases, “but in a good way.”
Eddie smiles back at him.
“I like that you’re you, Eddie. The assholes of Hawkins were wrong for judging you before they knew you. I was wrong for judging you before I knew you.”
“So you can judge me now that you know me, though?”
“Absolutely,” Steve teases, "I do it every day."
"Uh, score!" Eddie says, waving around a piece of paper that he pulled out of his latest newspaper.
"Whatcha got?" Steve asks, unable to focus on it and drive with how fast Eddie is whipping it around in the air.
"Coupons for Wendy's," Eddie says, "buy one get one free!"
"Cool," Steve says and watches Eddie put them in the glovebox.
Steve is less impressed than Eddie clearly is, but okay, they'll find a Wendy's soon.
It doesn't occur to Steve until a few miles further down the road that he's never used a coupon before in his life, at least that he can remember, anyway. Eddie has money now, but Steve knows there were far more years where money was tight in the Munson household.
Steve swallows. When they use the coupon, he'll make sure to sound a little more excited than he just did about it.
Eddie
Eddie has heard there’s a good underground metal scene in New Orleans. He just has to find it. He looks for anyone that might look like they’d know and just goes up and makes friends. He’s successful and they end up at Jed’s. He’s never heard of the band that’s playing, but he loves live music, so he doesn’t really care.
They hit a jazz bar afterwards, and he appreciates that, too. It’s not his usual scene, not by a long shot, but it’s amazing to watch the musicians play.
The next day they have crawfish boil for lunch. Steve doesn’t exactly seem enthused and complained a little about the spiciness at the start. Eddie didn’t know how to eat them either, but he just nicely asked the staff and they were happy to show him the best way. Steve is absolutely not going to suck the head (Eddie really has some dirty jokes for that, but he keeps them to himself) nor is Steve really peeling the tails either, though. He’s eating sausage, corn and potatoes.
So Eddie starts peeling and deveining the tails for Steve, putting them on his plate, ready to eat. Like he’s a child.
But Steve eats them, so Eddie keeps doing it. One for him, one for Steve, until they are absolutely stuffed.
Steve
Steve is pleasantly buzzed. They've bar-hopped down Bourbon Street, and Eddie stops in front of a club with a pair of mechanical mannequin swinging legs coming out of the window overlooking the street, with a neon sign promising topless and bottomless dancers. Eddie pulls him inside, and it turns out the bottomless part is a lie, but that doesn't matter, Steve does like boobies.
Eddie goes up the bar and orders, coming back and shoving another mixed drink in his hand. Steve wouldn't mind just having a beer or three, but Eddie apparently thinks he's a connoisseur of liquor tonight and is taking Steve along for the ride.
They find a table and Steve has never been in a club like this before. The dancers are on little pedestals. And they have on these tiny, fringed g-strings, that he thinks are supposed to look like pubic hair. Maybe? He's not confident in that assessment. If he wasn't already good and tipsy, he's sure he'd be embarrassed.
Much later, he crowds in close to Eddie and whispers in his ear, “I think I’m drunk.”
“I’d say so, yes,” Eddie agrees, guiding Steve towards the door.
Eddie
"The one in red? Those were the best boobies I've ever seen. Don't you think? Eddie? Are you even listening to me? Don't you think so?" Steve is giggling, leaning against Eddie's side, grabbing at his jacket.
Eddie doesn't really have an opinion on said boobies, he's not even sure he saw them, but just agrees to appease Steve.
"Do you think those g-strings were supposed to look like pussy? They didn't, right? Not like any I've seen, anyway," Steve laughs, leaning really close, "and I think I've seen, like, a lot."
"Jesus Christ, Steve," Eddie says laughing, but he can't help asking, “just how many women have you slept with?”
Steve furrows his brow, like he’s thinking hard.
“Don’t hurt yourself trying to do the math, big boy,” Eddie teases. Steve’s not particularly walking in a straight line, so Eddie grabs Steve’s arm and gently guides him over to the inside edge of the sidewalk, and Eddie moves himself over to the outside edge, closest to the street.
He probably shouldn’t have gotten Steve so drunk on liquor, because now he’s dealing with the consequences.
In the motel room, Eddie manages to get Steve out of his Nike's.
"I'm so hot!" Steve whines, sprawled out on his back on the bed, shirtless. A few minutes earlier, he got his shirt stuck on his head while Eddie was taking off his shoes. He finally freed himself before Eddie had to intervene. But now he's trying to unbutton his jeans and it's not working out so well for him.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Eddie says, reaching over and popping open the button, easily. Hopes that Steve can deal with the zipper himself.
"Thanks, man," Steve says, and tries to shimmy out of them.
"Is this supposed to be a strip tease? Because I've seen better," Eddie says, but finally has mercy and grabs the cuffs of Steve's jeans to help tug. Steve is just laying there, laughing.
"Lift up!" Eddie says and Steve lifts his legs.
"Your ass, not your legs!" Steve finally lifts his butt. Pulling tight jeans off of a grown man who’s working against him more than he’s helping, is way more than Eddie bargained for. But Steve’s face is flushed from the alcohol, or maybe from this entire ridiculous farce, so he probably does feel overheated.
But he finally gets them off, nearly stumbling into the wall when they finally come loose.
“Better?” Eddie asks.
“Yes, thank you,” Steve says, and closes his eyes.
"Here," Eddie says, manhandling Steve onto his side.
"What?" Steve asks, cracking open an eye.
"Just, lay on your side, not your back. I don't want you choking to death if you throw up."
"I'm not gonna throw up," Steve assures.
"Glad to hear it," Eddie says, slumping down onto his own bed, exhausted from the wrangling.
Steve
Steve wakes up to Eddie having a bad one. Steve climbs out of his bed, overtired, still a little drunk from partying in the French Quarter all night and slides into Eddie's bed, curling up behind him. Wrapping his arm around Eddie, tightly.
Eddie puts his hand on Steve's forearm, holding him there. Steve can't hear him, but can tell by the hitch of Eddie's back that he's crying. It must have been a Chrissy dream. Those always upset him more than they scare him.
Steve doesn't say anything, there's nothing he can say. He just holds Eddie like he wishes someone would have held him after his first encounters with the horrors in their world riddled him with nightmares.
He could tell him it gets better with time, but he knows that's a hollow promise to make right now, so he doesn't.
He falls back asleep there and when he wakes in the morning, Eddie isn't beside him, but he can hear the shower running. He is so hungover he wants to die.
Later, after Steve gets out of the shower himself, he hears arguing. He grabs the towel from the rack, quickly wrapping it around his waist, flinging the door open.
Eddie is arguing with two members of the hotel staff. Waving his hands around in the air, wildly. Whatever this is, Steve is too hungover to deal with it, his head is already pounding. But he knows he doesn't really have a choice, it’s already happening, with or without him.
"Police!" the housekeeper states, holding the small film canister accusingly. Steve is momentarily confused, Eddie's jeans are in her other hand and she's very, very angry. It takes a minute, but Steve finally realizes what has happened. Eddie accidentally sent weed down with his dirty laundry.
This is what he gets for insisting on a nice hotel. If they'd stayed at whatever rat trap Eddie would have picked, laundry services wouldn't have even been an option.
"Don't call the police, please," Steve begs, holding the towel around his waist, his wet hair dripping down his back. "Please. Please, don't. We don’t want any trouble."
"Police!" she shouts again, waving Eddie’s belongings in Steve’s direction.
"Please," Steve says again, fumbling around for his wallet, "please. We'll leave. We're leaving," he promises.
He fumbles around, finally pulling out two twenty dollar bills, shoving them into their hands, "Please?"
The two staff members argue in Spanish, and Steve's high school Spanish has long been forgotten. They finally seem to agree and turn back, "Fifty dollars. Both." The woman points between the both of them.
Steve digs back in his wallet, pulling out two more fifties, doesn’t even take back the twenties, "Thank you, thank you, we're leaving right now."
The housekeeper pushes Eddie’s jeans and the canister into Steve’s hands, before they both turn and leave.
Eddie is just standing there, frozen.
"Get your stuff, dude, let's go!"
Steve drops his towel, pulling on his underwear, his skin still damp. It isn't the most comfortable feeling in the world. Eddie is still just standing there, staring at him, dazedly.
"Eddie, man, c’mon!"
That shakes him out of his stupor, Eddie finally shoving his feet into his shoes, throwing shit into his duffle bag.
They are out of the room in five minutes. All their stuff is jumbled together, but at least he doesn’t hear the wail of police sirens yet.
Steve shoves Eddie into the elevator, pushing the lobby button. Maybe they should have taken the stairs. Steve's wet hair is dripping down his neck, and it's freezing.
This is going to be a terrible hair day.
Steve is all but running out of the place when he sees Eddie stop to choose an apple and a muffin from the free continental breakfast spread in the lobby. Steve is exasperated, reaching out and tugging Eddie by the arm, all but dragging him outside.
When they get to the car, Steve throws his shit in the backseat, before hopping into the driver's seat. Starting the engine and shoving it into reverse. It’s only then that he realizes Eddie isn’t in the car. Eddie is just standing outside of the passenger door, eating. Steve throws up his hands in a what the fuck are you doing? gesture. Eddie holds up his breakfast, in explanation.
Steve rolls down the passenger window, "You can eat in the car, just get the fuck in right now!"
Eddie does. He eats in the car basically every single day thereafter.
“Find me my sunglasses, please,” Steve pleads, it’s too fucking sunny for this.
Eddie digs around, finally handing them over.
“Thank you.”
“You okay to drive?” Eddie asks, and Steve thinks he’s not even angling to mark it off the list, he thinks he's just genuinely asking.
Steve nods, sliding the glasses over his eyes.
Several miles down the road, Steve finally finds it funny. Even with his headache from hell.
"I thought that was going to be a really uncomfortable call to Hopper," Steve laughs.
"Oh shit, imagine that," Eddie says, laughing hysterically beside him.
“Jesus Christ, that was insane,” Steve laughs, adrenaline still pumping a little more than is necessary.
“Sorry, I just forgot it was in those jeans.”
“It’s okay,” Steve says, and he means that. He isn’t mad, he was just scared. “We’ll just use laundromats from now on if we need clean clothes. Or just buy new clothes. Something.”
“Deal,” Eddie agrees.
"Let's get breakfast, not all of us had an apple and a muffin."
Eddie laughs, and starts reading the billboards and exit signs, looking for something promising.
"Diner in two miles?" Eddie offers and Steve nods.
Eddie
Steve orders a huge breakfast, it’s seriously ridiculous. It comes on, like, three plates. There’s no way he’s eating all of that, Eddie is certain. He thinks he should have just eaten off of Steve’s plate(s) but he’d ordered his own way, way smaller version and lots of black coffee. Steve clearly has a headache, he wore his sunglasses for a while even after they got inside the restaurant. So Eddie hands him two aspirin and he watches Steve down them with his juice.
It looks like Steve's never eaten before, the way he's plowing through his food. Sopping up his runny eggs with toast. Putting whole pieces of bacon in his mouth.
Hungover Steve is something brand new. He’s not nearly as pissy as Eddie would have expected.
Steve somehow eats every last bite. Eddie is honestly impressed.
When the check comes, Steve reaches for it. It is his turn.
"I'll get it, you got the blackmail," Eddie laughs. He's going to owe Steve lots of meals to make up for that. That was a lot of money and a huge fuss for a couple grams of weed.
Steve
They travel between Henderson, Louisiana and Henderson, Texas. It's dark when they roll into Texas, but they still knock out pictures of them in front of the sign along the side of the road.
When they settle into the motel room afterwards, Steve comes out of the bathroom like he always does, in just his shorts. Eddie is on the bed, nearly fully dressed, like always.
"Why don't you ever get comfortable?" Steve asks, finally needing to know. He knows he couldn’t sleep fully dressed, that sounds miserable.
Eddie pauses, thinking.
"I guess I'm just used to being ready to go. My childhood, right before Uncle Wayne, wasn't great. After, well, after spring break, I guess the habit just kinda came back."
Steve sits on the edge of Eddie's bed.
"I'm never going to go anywhere without you, I promise. I swear on Dustin's mother. No matter how mad we get at each other."
"Unless I almost get us arrested for possession."
"Hey, asshole. I definitely made sure your stupid ass was right with me. I wasn't going to leave you."
"I know," Eddie says.
Eddie takes off his jeans to sleep that night. It feels like monumental progress.
The next morning, after his shower Steve pulls his new favorite, extra soft t-shirt over his head. Once he has it on, he realizes it definitely isn't his. It is very soft, but it doesn't fit right and it smells like Eddie. It's a smell that wouldn't sound good on paper. Cigarettes, Irish Spring soap, just a hint of weed and his body odor. But it's familiar now, so it's comforting to Steve. Just like smelling Robin near him puts him at ease, apparently smelling Eddie does that too.
"I think this is yours," Steve says when he comes out of the bathroom, "have you seen my Adidas shirt?"
They search both of their bags, and at least attempt to sort everything out again after the mad dash out of the last room and decide it must have gotten left behind in New Orleans.
"I liked that shirt!" Steve whines, nasally, and very put out about this situation.
"I thought you hated the thrift stores," Eddie says, goading him.
"That shirt was a good find, it was very soft."
"I'll find you something even better at the next one."
Steve isn't happy, but he takes off Eddie's shirt and finds something else to wear in his own bag.
Notes:
Fun fact: The hotel weed scene was the very first thing written for this fic. I heard Me and Paul and somehow this time my brain linked those lyrics to Steve and Eddie.
Almost busted in Laredo
But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose
But if you're stayin' in a motel there and leave
Just don't leave nothin' in your clothes
And the idea made me laugh, so I was like, "Well, why are they even in a hotel?" Road trip, of course. The working title actually was We Received Our Education in the Cities of the Nation before I had an idea what it might actually turn out to be.
Photo credits: Wendy's ad from 1986 was on Pinterest, so was the picture of Big Daddy's. And the picture of Joe was everywhere, so I couldn't trace back to the original origin.
Chapter 5: Ozark Mountain Jubilee
Notes:
Thanks for reading along so far! Your comments and kudos have been appreciated! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
don't need a map to get there,
you can get there from anywhere
Ozark Mountain Jubilee, The Oak Ridge Boys
Eddie
Eddie is collecting all the brochures available in truck stops and diners. He reads them to Steve while Steve drives, using them to decide what tourist traps they absolutely need to visit.
There are some really weird ones out there, that's for damn sure.
Eddie picks up a brochure for some place called Silver Dollar City.
"What is it? Hillbilly Disneyland?" Steve asks.
Eddie reads from the paper in his hands, "Good times from the good old days from when America was young."
Steve laughs, "It does not say that," like he doesn't trust Eddie. Eddie doesn't know why, it's not like he reads things to Steve from the newspaper all the time, adding his own wild embellishments to the stories until Steve doesn't know what's real and what's from his own overactive imagination.
Eddie flips the brochure in Steve's direction. It absolutely does say that. "Well, I'll be damned."
"I'm sorry to report we missed the clogging competition," Eddie says, with great remorse.
"Oh no, are you sure it's even worth going now?"
Eddie laughs, loves that Steve has finally gotten on board with whatever nonsense he's thrown at him so far. It's fun. Steve is fun. After their little blow up in North Carolina, it’s like a switch flipped. Steve has been way more relaxed, and has been much more apt to go with the flow. Even if he hates the current they're floating on, he’s still letting Eddie do the paddling. He really didn't know Steve was this much fun until now. His list of rules didn’t really showcase his fun side, so it’s been a damn delight to discover.
Steve
Eddie is clearly loving watching all the craftsfolk. Steve didn't know how curious Eddie was until he got to watch him interact with the world outside of Hawkins. He watches intently as people dressed in old timey clothes make things in old fashioned ways. From blacksmiths to glass blowers to candy makers. Eddie watches everything closely, and Steve can see him actively learning.
They ride the Frisco Silver Dollar Line steam train through the Ozarks and the scenery is pretty. There’s a fake robbery that entertains Eddie way more than it entertains Steve. Eddie loves this type of thing. The theatrics. Steve wonders if he misses playing D&D with the kids.
Technically, Hellfire is a school club, so Eddie is no longer a member, but it was very much Eddie's baby. And Dustin is still including him, even if the school would majorly frown upon it if they knew.
The hills while walking through the theme park are pretty damn brutal. Nothing seems flat, it feels like you're either going uphill or you’re going downhill all the time. But he's following Eddie with little complaint. They've ridden some of the rides, like the roller coaster that's fire themed and the log flume.
They got soaked on the river tube ride and Steve's shoes are squeaking. He's glad they saved that for last and that he brought more than one pair of shoes so they can dry out.
He's not sure if Eddie did, he's only seen the same Reeboks he always wears. If Eddie didn't pack more than one pair, Steve will find a shoe store when they leave the park. He can’t have Eddie getting trench foot on his watch.
When they get back in the car, Eddie pulls a big pair of motorcycle boots out of the bottom of his duffel. Steve's never seen him wear them, not once. They aren't the lace up boots from the War Zone. These are well worn and must be from his own closet. Steve's first thought is that they are kinda sexy and then he wonders where the fuck that thought came from. He laughs at himself.
"What?" Eddie asks, pulling out a clean pair of socks.
"Nothing. You hungry? Or did you fill up on the many snacks of yesteryear?" He'd seen Eddie eat peanut brittle, taffy, and caramel corn among other things.
"I could eat," Eddie says, pulling his jeans down over the boots, hiding the metal harness across the top of the boot.
After they’ve both changed their socks and shoes, they head back to the motel for dry clothing.
Eddie
"Can I ask you a question?" Steve asks as they head down highway 60.
"Sure," Eddie says, not sure where this is going. Steve sounds serious.
"I just, I don't know that much about you, I guess? How long have you lived with your uncle?"
Eddie doesn't really want to open that can of depressing worms, but Steve seems sincere in asking, like he really wants to know, "Since I was twelve."
Steve nods.
Eddie knows he's waiting for some elaboration, but might be too polite to ask.
"My mom died. My dad couldn't really take care of me, and ended up in prison eventually, anyway. And Uncle Wayne was the only one willing to take me. DCS didn't really want him to take me, so I spent some time in foster care while they worked it out. He bent over backwards until they relented." Fourteen months. He spent fourteen months bouncing around from one shithole to the next, while Uncle Wayne fought the system.
"Why wouldn't they want him to take you?"
"He lived in a one bedroom trailer. Kids need bedrooms, like, by law. So he gave me his bedroom, and has slept for years on a fold-up in the living room," Eddie says, and it's hard to not get a little emotional about it.
Eddie tried to offer to move out at eighteen, once Uncle Wayne's legal obligation was fulfilled, but Wayne told him to stay, to finish high school. Eddie at least tried to give the bedroom back, since the state couldn't say shit, but Uncle Wayne wouldn't hear any of it.
So Eddie stayed and finished high school, no matter how much extra time it took.
And after he did that, Wayne still wanted him to stay. Still wanted him to move to the new house with him. Still wanted him. Eddie always had a side hustle, from as young as he could manage, because he wanted to be useful, to earn his keep. To be able to stay.
He only realized recently, after the Vecna debacle, that Uncle Wayne would love him, no matter what he did or didn’t do. It was unconditional. No strings attached.
"I'm sorry your mom died, but I'm glad you ended up with him," Steve says, bringing Eddie back into the conversation, "I like him a lot."
"Me too, man. He's been good to me," Eddie says, then adds, "I better call him the next time we stop. It's been a few days."
Eddie always makes sure he calls when Uncle Wayne will be home and awake. He's not about to wake him up without good reason when he's working the night shift.
Eddie doesn't know how his life would be different if his mom had lived. Or if his dad had been capable. His dad wasn’t mean, just a lifelong non-violent criminal, who could never get his fucking shit together. So Eddie can't deal with the what ifs. But he knows that Uncle Wayne saved him. Has always loved him like Eddie was his own child. Has always been stable and present.
Eddie doesn't need to ask Steve about his parents. He'd figured out over the summer that Steve is fairly unsupervised and has been for a while. They’re lucky he's turned out as well as he has all on his own. They just have no idea that their only kid is out there, risking his life to save the world. Eddie doesn't think they are terrible people, Steve never says anything that bad about them, anyway, they are just perpetually absent.
So they have that in common, and unfortunately for Steve, he doesn't seem to have an Uncle Wayne ready to step into action.
Steve is quiet for a few minutes, then clears his throat, finally says, “I was an accident. Everyone assumes I’m, like, the heir to the throne, or whatever. King Steve. But, like, my parents could have done without me, you know? They’re not bad people, they just didn’t let a kid they hadn’t particularly planned for interrupt their lives.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, and that’s worse than Steve must think it sounds, “that’s not okay.”
“I know,” Steve says, “but I think I’ve done okay. I’m pretty self-reliant. And I had an awesome nanny as a kid. Louisa. She was a lot of fun and if she didn't love me, she was damn good at faking it," Steve says.
"I'm sure she loved you," Eddie tells him, but knows it must be weird for Steve. To feel like she had been paid to love him.
"My mom has a career, and she’s super well respected, she wasn’t about to just stay home with me and become a housewife. That’s definitely not her thing. Dad has his business and his affairs, and I think they just run separate lives and sort of expected me to do the same.”
"Do you ever see Louisa now, or like, talk to her still?"
"No. I came home from school one day and she was just gone. They said I was too old for a nanny, and that was that."
Eddie wants to scream. He thinks Steve’s story is worse than his story and Steve isn’t even aware of that fact. Eddie’s mom may have died, but she loved him. So much. Eddie has never questioned that, not for a second. And Uncle Wayne loves him, he knows that, deep in his bones. Hell, his dad loves him. He’s just a fuck up. But who loves Steve? Sure, the kids, and Robin, but he needs an adult to love him unconditionally.
“You definitely did okay, Steve,” Eddie finally says.
“I’ve never told anyone that,” Steve says, “please don’t tell Robin. She’ll get all worked up about it, for no reason.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Eddie says, and he’ll keep any secrets Steve is willing to give him.
A couple hours later, Eddie spots a billboard for an outdoor fun center with a mini golf course and go kart track. He points at it.
"Yes?" he asks, looking at Steve, question clear.
"Hell yes!" Steve answers.
It was a mistake. Not really, but Jesus Christ, Steve is competitive. Eddie is getting his ass handed to him left, right and center. Steve keeps score at mini golf like they are playing for the title. Championship? Eddie doesn’t know golf, other than it is terribly boring. Even Uncle Wayne, who will watch nearly any sport that’s showing on television at any given time, doesn’t even watch golf. Thank Christ.
There's a bowling alley in this place, too. Eddie laces up the ugly rented shoes and watches Steve spend an inordinate amount of time trying to pick a ball. He is running his hand over one, then another, checking them out.
"Caress those balls, Harrington," Eddie says, he can't help himself.
Steve laughs, "Big, nice heft," he banters back and Eddie doubles over in laughter.
Eddie is terrible at bowling. Really, truly awful. But it's so much fun to watch Steve get worked up over a game he was destined to win from the start.
Steve is heading to the snack bar, "You want anything?"
Eddie shakes his pack of cigarettes, "Smokes," he answers, handing Steve a handful of quarters for the cigarette vending machine.
Steve comes back with a pack of Marlboro reds, "They didn't have Camels," Steve tells him, "hope these are okay."
"It's good, man, thanks."
Eddie hadn't even stopped to consider if Steve even knew what kind he smoked. Apparently he does.
The go kart track isn't any less competitive. Eddie considers it a major win that Steve didn’t just run him off the track, completely.
The only thing that Eddie won at was darts. Finally, spending tons of time in The Hideout has paid off handsomely.
Eddie sees the billboard, "Throwed rolls! Well, we need to experience that," and flips to the back of the atlas, searching for Sikeston so he can see where it is located.
"Where are we?" Eddie asks, nose in the atlas.
Steve laughs, "You're supposed to be the navigator, Munson."
Eddie just shrugs.
"We just went through Winona," Steve says, helping him out.
Eddie flips to the back, again, skimming along the towns in Missouri, “Ah! Got it,” Eddie declares, “just head straight.”
“The billboard literally said ‘straight ahead’ on it, so, good plan,” Steve teases.
Eddie laughs with him. He’d totally missed that part.
Steve
The wait to get into this restaurant is hellishly long. Luckily they don't have anywhere to be, so they sit outside on one of the dead pecker benches. Eddie bullshits with other tourists, and Steve is somehow always still surprised how easily Eddie makes friends with strangers.
When they finally get inside Lambert’s, Eddie is enamored with the atmosphere. Steve orders a hot beef sandwich, and Eddie orders meatloaf. Steve is kinda grossed out.
"Who orders meatloaf? Are you eighty?"
"I like meatloaf and it's not like Uncle Wayne is making it at home," Eddie shrugs, stirring sugar into his iced tea, making a racket, not that it could ever be heard over the dull roar of the dining room.
Steve finds that the pass arounds sound unappealing, too. Maybe he's a pickier eater than he realized. But he's not jumping at the opportunity for all you can eat fried okra, macaroni and tomatoes, or black eyed peas. Fried potatoes and the rolls, which they've both caught several of, are admittedly delicious, and he can get behind. This might be the biggest tourist trap they've been to yet.
Eddie seems to love it, so the nearly two hour wait was worth it, Steve supposes.
He's pretty sure he's being trained to tolerate all manner of foolishness, just to make Eddie happy.
He's not really that upset about it.
Notes:
Photo credits: Lamberts was on Foursquare (now there's something I hadn't thought about in years!), Boots on Pinterest, Vintage Cigarette Machine (yes, these existed and yes every kid on earth liked to pull the handles) on Reddit, the Silver Dollar City one is an actual brochure from 1986 and can be viewed in full on themeparkbrochures.net.
Chapter 6: Werewolves of London
Notes:
Thanks so much for the comments, kudos and other support! It makes me so happy! I'm really having fun with this, which I think is the whole point. But it's great to know there are others enjoying it as well! <3
If this were a TV show, this would be the bottle episode. It's a shorter chapter, but it really felt like it need to be separated off from the next one, so I did it that way. So, extra chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
little old lady got mutilated late last night,
werewolves of London again
Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon
Steve
They are traveling down Highway 25 outside of London, Kentucky when Eddie spots a huge neon bird on the roof of a motel. This is somehow the selling point that makes Eddie decide that this is definitely the place for them to stay. It's early enough that they could have kept going, but they aren't in any hurry, so Steve wheels in. They pull up, parking a few spaces down from a big, black boat of a car.
Steve goes into the lobby to check-in and when he comes back outside, Eddie is standing next to the black car.
Eddie is looking it over, and then whistles low, "Isn't that a beaut?"
Steve thinks it looks like an old taxi, just in black. Says just that, "I think it looks like a taxi."
"You-"
"Don't touch her," comes the warning, interrupting Eddie's thought.
A little boy, no more than seven or eight. He's standing in the doorway of the motel room the car is parked in front of.
Steve looks at Eddie, like, are you seeing this hilarious shit?
"We won't, little dude," Eddie says easily, turning to grab his bag off the ground where he'd set it down. "She's real pretty, though."
The little boy just glares. There's a younger boy mainly hidden behind him, hanging onto his leg.
Steve looks at Eddie, "We're in room 5," and side-steps the kids, going to unlock their own room, the next door down. The numbers on the doors are all birds, which is a choice, Steve thinks. They've really leaned into their bird theme here.
Eddie dumps his bag onto the floor of their room when they go inside, “So, what’s the plan?”
Steve is over fiddling with the air conditioning thermostat. It's stuffy in the room.
"Steve, thoughts?"
"Oh, whatever is fine with me," and he just shrugs. He really doesn’t care. There are a couple hours of daylight left, but not really enough to go out and do anything.
“Wanna stay in and get high?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods and Eddie starts digging around for his stash.
Eddie pulls the pack of papers out of his kit and rolls them a joint to share. They smoke it out in the trees behind the Blackbird Motel, sitting on the ground, their backs against the base of a large tree. Eddie had brought out the portable cassette player and is fumbling around with the tapes, trying to pick something they'll agree on.
He finally puts on Bob Seger.
They’re three weeks in, and this is the first time Eddie’s smoked him out. Steve hasn’t seen Eddie stoned either, but he clearly had it in his pocket, so maybe Steve's just not very observant.
"When have you been smoking without me?" Steve asks, because they are basically surgically attached at the hip.
"I haven't been," Eddie says, "I'm a dealer. I'm not, like, a daily stoner. I like it, but don't get high on your own supply, and all that."
"Have you been dealing on this trip?" Has Steve seriously not noticed that happening?
"Who on earth would I be dealing to? Okay, I sold some to Fake Steve, but that hardly counts."
Real Steve, laughs. He might be a little stoned already.
"You've got some dirt on your face, Harrington," Eddie says, changing the subject, before pulling another hit into his lungs and holding it.
Steve starts swiping at his face, then stops short, "Fuck you."
Eddie laughs, which makes him cough out a cloud of smoke.
Steve knows he means his mustache, which is growing in quite nicely, thank you very much. It's not dark, or particularly thick, but it is a mustache.
"You do you. I'm not one to stifle any form of personal expression," Eddie says.
"Does it look bad?" Steve asks, stroking his thumb and forefinger down either side of it.
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Eddie teases, eyes glassy, but dancing with the mischief that’s just always beneath the surface.
Steve laughs, he doesn't think it looks bad. He doesn't think it looks particularly good, either, but he's in it now. He's going to make Eddie look at it for the rest of the trip, out of pure spite. Steve knows he can be a stubborn motherfucker when he wants to be, and right now, he wants to be just for fun.
They sit in silence a little while, then the weed really hits Steve and he giggles, "We totally know better than to hang out in strange woods, getting high. We’ve been in this horror movie before, man."
"If we get eaten by a monster, I'm blaming you, Harrington."
Steve peers into Eddie's kit, "What else you got in there?"
"Weed. Papers. Lighter. What were you hoping for, heroin?"
"No," Steve answers, then asks, "have you ever done heroin?"
"No,” Eddie laughs out in a slightly manic chuckle. “Shit, Harrington, how hardcore do you think I am?"
Eddie seems sincerely flabbergasted at such an allegation.
Steve just kind of shrugs, "I don't know. You used to seem kind of scary."
Eddie laughs, tickled, "I've heard that once or twice. Weed is my drug of choice. I've tried special K and ecstasy. Oh, and LSD."
"No coke?"
"I'm not rich, Harrington," Eddie says and then looks at Steve, who raises an eyebrow, "well, I wasn't rich back then. Have you done coke?"
"A couple times. Tommy H. would get eight balls for parties sometimes."
Eddie is actually shocked, Steve can tell.
"And here I thought you were a goody two-shoes."
"That's a more recent development. But I like this version of me better, for what it's worth."
Eddie bumps his shoulder, "I like him, too. Good dude, that Steve Harrington."
Steve nudges Eddie back in a silent thanks.
"You tried anything else?" Eddie asks.
"Just weed. Oh, and we did whippets once."
Eddie laughs, "Fucking whippets. You're something else."
They smoke in silence for a little bit, before Eddie speaks again.
“Should we do cocaine together?” Eddie asks.
“Fucking hell, no . Absolutely not. No way. You on coke? I cannot possibly survive that kind of chaotic energy,” Steve laughs.
Eddie laughs back, and then turns so he can lay back on the ground, blowing out a puff of smoke.
Steve lays down beside him, shoulders touching.
"Okay, we won't do coke," Eddie says, like it was ever really on the table in the first place.
"Sounds like a good plan," Steve says and closes his eyes, "this song makes me sad."
"Well, music is supposed to elicit an emotional response, so, good job, Bob, I guess," Eddie offers, then adds, "you're not a sad stoner, are you?"
"I don't think so," Steve says, and he doesn't think so. The Famous Final Scene is just a sad song.
"Good, I don't want to bum you out," Eddie says, handing the joint back to Steve.
Eddie
Eddie makes Steve stand by the car and watch him mark grass off the list. The only thing left on that line is ass and Eddie is pretty sure that's not being crossed off, unless he pays to get Steve a hooker. Which, maybe? If that’s the only thing left on the list at the end of this road trip, he’ll definitely consider it as a viable option.
“Do you want a hooker?” Eddie asks, turning to look at Steve.
“Right now?” Steve asks, looking around, like there might be some standing nearby that he just hadn't noticed yet.
And Eddie cackles, leaving Steve furrowing his brows at him, clearly bewildered.
Steve
The motel room has a Magic Fingers machine hooked up to the bed and Eddie keeps feeding it quarters while they lay on it together and jiggle. And giggle. They’re stoned, really stoned and this seems like the funniest thing in the whole wide world. Eddie has read the entire sign on the machine to Steve, repeatedly.
“Steve, it will carry us into the land of tingling relaxation and ease. TRY IT. YOU’LL FEEL GREAT,” and then Eddie laughs and laughs, getting Steve laughing as well.
Steve closes his eyes, is nearly asleep when Eddie is so close Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his face, “TRY IT. YOU’LL FEEL GREAT.”
Steve jumps, startles fully awake, then laughs hysterically. The bed stops, but Eddie puts another quarter in the slot and away they go again.
“Steve! We can buy a unit for our home! We just need to ask the helpful innkeeper!”
“Eddie, we don’t have a home,” Steve says, eyes closed, enjoying the gentle rocking.
“We could. We could have a home, with one of these magic fingers and we’ll FEEL GREAT and we’ll get a cat.”
“Okay, Eddie,” Steve agrees, eyes closed. He guesses they’re getting a house and a cat. And magic fingers from the helpful innkeeper.
It's well after midnight. Eddie pulls a fifth of Jack from his backpack and wants to make them mixed drinks. So he sends Steve for ice and a couple cans of Coke from the vending machine. Steve thinks that Eddie clearly learned absolutely nothing in New Orleans. There's no way he's getting a hangover like that again any time soon.
Steve was sure he’d be alone out here in the middle of nowhere, but he is very much not.
Steve stops walking, frozen in place. There’s a full moon tonight, so Steve can clearly see the man in a heavy leather jacket, covered in blood and some other kind of gore. Steve's stomach drops. He wishes he had his nailbat in his hand. He's not scared of the man, he doesn't think he is anyway, he kind of reminds Steve a little of Hopper. No, he's scared of whatever is all over the man.
"Hey, kid."
Steve's not a kid, doesn’t think he’s been one since he first fought a demogorgon in '83.
"What was it? Is it dead?" Steve asks, clutching the ice bucket to his chest, tightly. Knuckles white against the cheap plastic.
The man looks him up and down, "You a hunter?"
Steve doesn't think so, but, maybe? "Not on purpose," he finally says.
The man seems to think this over, before saying, "It's dead.”
Steve is about to ask what exactly is dead, but his walkie talkie crackles to life in his shirt pocket, making him jump, startled.
Eddie’s too-loud voice rings out into the still night air, “Steve! I also want M&Ms. And a Cherry Mash. No, two Cherry Mashes! Steve? Are you there?”
With that, the man walks around Steve, up to the room door right behind where they had been standing. Steve watches him give a series of coded knocks on the door of the room the little boys were in earlier in the day. Then Steve hears what is probably the scrape of the desk chair on the tile and then the deadbolt sliding open.
Steve swallows. The little boys aren't even tall enough to reach the lock without a chair.
Steve doesn't know why he assumed until this very minute that this kind of trouble was confined to Hawkins. It kind of breaks something in him that it isn't, and that other people are dealing with the same shit in their hometowns, too.
He wants to know what it was. Something he’s seen before? Something totally new? What exactly is a hunter? He assumes it's just what it sounds like, but the man clearly wasn’t offering to give him any more information than necessary.
“Steve? Hello?”
“I heard you. M&Ms. Cherry Mash,” Steve parrots.
“TWO Cherry Mashes!” Eddie’s voice screams back.
Steve is certain Eddie does not need the concentrated sugar rush of two Cherry Mashes at once, but whatever. They’ve got bigger fish to fry. They need to get the fuck out of this place.
Steve goes back to the room, tries to act normal and doesn't tell Eddie. He’s already having nightmares and Steve cannot in good conscience add to that burden. So Steve lets Eddie make him a Jack and Coke in a plastic motel cup, and will just make sure they leave first thing in the morning. He promised Eddie they'd run in the other direction from this kind of trouble, so he plans to do just that.
Eddie is sitting cross-legged on his bed in his t-shirt and boxers, eating both of the Cherry Mashes, one after the other. The idea is enough to make Steve feel sick. He never thought he’d feel this way, but he is so sick of all the junk food.
He wants a big chef salad. Like the kind you could get at school for lunch, on Tuesday and Fridays. Steve laughs, and thinks he is probably still a little stoned, he’s pretty sure he’s never craved a salad before this very second.
“What are you giggling about over there, Harrington?”
“I want a chef salad, you know, like from the cafeteria? In the brown wooden bowls?”
“From school?” Eddie asks, looking at him like he’s crazy.
“Yeah!”
“I never once bought one of those overpriced, wilted messes,” Eddie says.
“Yeah, you brought your lunch,” Steve says, unlacing his shoes.
“I did. Why do you know that, Harrington?”
“I have eyes. You always carried around that big lunchbox.”
“That was my drugs, not my lunch,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve.
“Oh. Well, I noticed, I guess.”
“I’ll find you a salad tomorrow, Harrington. Brown bowl, not guaranteed.”
“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says, and he pulls his shirt over his head to finish getting ready for bed.
Eddie is sound asleep in the other bed, but Steve is really struggling to fall asleep himself. Every single noise he hears outside sends him into a small panic. He looks out the window, just checking to make sure everything looks normal. It does.
He thinks he finally managed to doze off, when he hears the loud rumble of a car exhaust idling. It has to be the big, black car.
Steve peeks out of the window, and sure enough, the man is loading stuff into the trunk and the older boy is carrying a knife on his hip while helping the younger boy get situated in the backseat. The little one is younger than Steve even realized yesterday, maybe only three or four.
These kids are actual babies. He thought Dustin and the others were babies when they got mixed up in the mess in Hawkins, but now they seemed fully grown in comparison. Dustin was a smart little shit, but he was so much older than these kids when he was walking the railroad tracks, looking for his pet monster.
He watches the car back out and the exhaust roars as it pulls away into the night.
It’s almost five o’clock. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep any longer than he already has, so he hops in the shower and will wake Eddie up when he’s done. Eddie won’t be happy about such an early wake-up call, Steve is sure, but he’s ready to get the fuck out of here.
Steve goes out to load his bag while Eddie’s in the shower, and finds a slip of paper under his windshield wiper. It's just a phone number. Steve understands what the number is for and hopes he never has to use it. But he puts it in his wallet, just in case.
He grabs the atlas off the dash and circles London. He doesn't want to forget where monsters are, so they can be sure to never come back.
Notes:
Fun Fact: London, KY was already circled in my vintage atlas! I took pictures of it first, then tried to gently erase it, but it took a lot of the old ink away. So it got written in to the story. But how weird that of all the towns in North America, one that I'd written in had been highlighted by a previous owner!
And yes, those are the Winchesters. I liked the Easter Egg that maybe these cross-country road trips crossed paths. But I don't think you need to know who they are to get their appearance here. (And Steve's not wrong, 4-door '67 Impalas were definitely used as taxis back in the day!)
Photo credits: Baby at the Blackbird is by Jerry Wanek, the production designer of the motels on Supernatural. The joint and lighter is either from the show Outer Banks (I've never seen it) or an aesthetic related to it. Looked like Eddie to me! Magic Fingers is from Supernatural.
Chapter 7: West Bound and Down
Chapter Text
we've got a long way to go
and a short time to get there,
keep your foot hard on the pedal, son,
never mind them brakes
West Bound and Down, Jerry Reed
Eddie
It’s beyond early in the morning on day twenty-four, way too early to be up and moving, but they are, because Steve's an asshole. Steve pulled him out of bed just after five a.m. and Eddie is now studying the map by the car's interior lights. He's drinking weak gas station coffee when he realizes that from where they currently are, they have almost a straight shot across Kentucky to home. Five hours, maybe?
Steve’s beside him, eating his second banana in a row. He said he thought he was getting scurvy from their steady diet of junk food. He's definitely not getting scurvy, but if he keeps it up with the bananas, Eddie's pretty sure diarrhea is a distinct possibility. Eddie tried to get him to get an orange instead, but Steve didn’t listen, just picked up a bunch of bananas at the truck stop checkout.
Now, he's eating his way through them and the visual is just too much for six o’clock in the morning, Eddie can only take so much. Plus, Steve is totally going to shit his pants if he eats a half dozen bananas all in one sitting. Eddie wants no part of that. Well, he’d totally laugh his ass off if it happened, but they are trapped in the same car, so not worth it. To save them both, Eddie takes the rest of the bunch and shoves them in his backpack on the floorboard.
"Hey!"
"Two bananas at once is twice what is normal, so slow down, Curious George."
Steve grumbles, but doesn't make a move to retrieve them.
Eddie hands him an Egg McMuffin and a couple hashbrowns. There'd been a McDonald's connected to the truck stop, so he bought them both breakfast, before he realized Steve was planning a banana fast.
"Thanks," Steve says, unwrapping his sandwich.
Eddie wonders if he's hungover. He shouldn't be, he'd only nursed that one drink, but he's acting weird. Can you have a weed hangover? Eddie never has, but maybe it's different for Steve.
"You okay to drive?"
"Yeah, I'm good," he says, reaching over and taking Eddie's coffee cup from his hand.
"Yes, please help yourself, Harrington," but Eddie doesn't actually care. It's shitty coffee anyway.
“Ugh, this is just black,” Steve says, making a face. That coffee isn’t strong enough to be bitter, he’s being a baby.
“Yes, that’s my coffee, it’s unfathomable that I made it to my preference instead of yours,” but Eddie takes the coffee back, digs around in the glovebox and comes up with a couple packets of sugar. And one of those little liquid creamer cups. He’s been storing all the extra condiments in there for a rainy day. He pours them all in, swirls them around for lack of a stirrer, and hands it back.
“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says softly, and he's using his puppy eyes on him for some reason. Which is insane, he's already gotten what he wanted.
“Are we headed home, or?” Eddie asks, and Steve stills, mouth full.
The odometer says they’ve traveled a little over 5,000 miles so far.
Steve meets Eddie's eyes, swallows his bite, then says, “I don’t have anything waiting at home, if you don't."
Eddie shakes his head, smiles and studies the map until Steve is done eating, “Go west, young man.”
“We’re backtracking, Munson. We saw this stretch of road yesterday,” Steve says, "get your head in the game."
Eddie rolls his eyes, but Steve is right. They were heading right back the exact same way they came into town yesterday. So Eddie redirects them south to another highway that they hadn't been on yesterday. He didn’t realize they’d be heading back westward again when he made the route. But they are, so he needs to adjust.
Steve
Eddie has dozed off beside him, and that’s what Steve gets for making them get up so damn early in the morning to escape whatever fresh hell was near that motel. Usually Eddie is the one up first and dragging Steve out of bed. They’re an odd pair. Steve can tell people stare at them in confusion all the time, trying to figure them out, but he doesn’t really care.
A few more miles down the road, Steve realizes they haven't had a day off from each other since they proposed the idea. He's not sure what has changed, but he's not getting as annoyed with Eddie nearly as often. He must be getting acclimated.
He hasn’t asked for a break and Eddie hasn’t either.
Steve glances at Eddie again, and hates that the world has dealt him such a shitty hand in life. It isn't fair, but Steve knows by now that life very rarely is.
Eddie
Eddie isn’t totally sure why they are moving like bats out of hell first thing in the morning today, but Steve hauled ass down I-75. When they exited off onto Highway 25, Steve had to slow down for the business district, but as soon as he cleared it, he threw the hammer back down. This highway isn’t as wide as the interstate, there’s hardly any shoulder at all. Eddie’s about to tell him to slow down, but the police lights behind them beat Eddie to the punch.
“Well, shit,” Steve says as he pulls over to the nearly non-existent shoulder, and Eddie laughs.
“If you'd have let me get that CB, the truckers would have warned us about ol’ Smokey.”
Steve rolls his eyes, then looks at Eddie, worried, “Do we smell like weed?”
“Fuck if I know, I think I’m nose blind to it,” Eddie says, and gives his hair a good sniff. It just smells like his shampoo, as far as he can tell.
“Great,” Steve says, sarcastic.
“Just tell him we hit a skunk if he asks,” Eddie offers, not as a serious suggestion.
Steve hands over his license and registration when the cop approaches his window. Eddie figures there’s no getting out of it, and Steve must agree, because he doesn’t even try. He was going nearly 80 in a 55. So, he’s fucked, for sure.
The cop pays very little attention to them, he’s clearly just going through the motions. He hands Steve the ticket and points out the address to mail the payment, or the court time and date if Steve wants to fight it instead.
“Well, this was an expensive morning,” Steve says, tucking the ticket into the mirror on the visor, “don’t let me forget to pay that damn thing.”
“Will do, Bandit,” Eddie says, and the belly laugh he gets from Steve made this whole morning worth it.
Eddie sees a Golden Corral around lunchtime and directs Steve to take the closest exit. He promised the man a salad. He didn't promise a good salad and at least there'll be lots of other options on the buffet.
When they get back in the car, he looks at the map of Kentucky and sees a patch of green surrounded by water and decides whatever that is, they probably need to see it.
Eddie
They end up at the Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky. The green between blue he’d seen on the map and directed them towards. Eddie had gone into the visitor’s center and asked for a map or what there was to see.
There’s an overlook made out of a retired grain silo. They walk up the incline of a long, wooden ramp built to the top of the old silo where they can look out over the lake. It’s really beautiful and the air is warm for late October. Eddie should have left his leather jacket in the car.
There’s some really weird abandoned structures around, including a two-story shell of a building spray painted with Hotel California.
It also says Welcome. Once you step inside, no one gets out alive.
“That’s creepy as shit,” Steve finally says, staying back. Eddie is getting right up in, walking all through it, it’s too cool not to.
“This is awesome, man,” Eddie yells at him, poking around. He can’t see Steve anymore, so he hollers, “You should come in!”
“It’s not cool. What if you, like, get lost in there and end up in the Upside Down? I don’t like it. I wish you'd get away from it,” Steve says, and Eddie thinks he’s being a little dramatic. It’s just an abandoned building. Not a gate to hell.
Steve is pacing around outside, trying to keep an eye on him through the open areas, and Steve must be able to read his mind, because Eddie’s about to jump up and see if he can pull himself up onto the second level.
“No! Don’t even think about it!” Steve yells, hands on his hips. Score one for Eddie. "Do you not see that beam? It's just bare fucking rebar? No. No way."
He’s such a mom, but Eddie loves it. To keep the peace, Eddie abandons his climbing expedition, but makes Steve take his picture. He sticks his tongue out at him for good measure.
They keep walking around and find another abandoned place that has Vampire Hotel scrawled on it.
“Everything here is creepy and about to collapse, are we done yet?” Steve says and Eddie just nods. He’s definitely not going to start a fight with Steve over this.
They head towards Memphis.
“How are we back in fucking Tennessee? Wasn't it a week ago that I got that ticket?”
“That was this morning,” Eddie says, laughing.
“It feels like a week ago,” Steve grumbles.
It has been a very long day in the car. But at least they aren’t fighting with each other yet.
They stop at a truck stop along I-40. Steve is getting grouchy, and Eddie is pretty sure he's just hungry. They're still about an hour out of Memphis, so while he's paying for gas, he asks the clerk if there's anywhere good to eat nearby.
"You like fried chicken?"
If they go less than ten miles out of the way and into Mason, there's supposed to be world famous fried chicken. Eddie knows that Steve likes fried chicken, so he's sold.
Turns out, it's really good fried chicken.
Steve’s eyes are heavy after he’s finished eating and Eddie is concerned that he’s not up to driving that last hour.
“If we need to stop here, we can stop here.”
“I’m okay, just a little tired, we’ll just stop and I’ll get a cup of coffee.”
They do stop and Steve picks up a Jolt Cola instead of a coffee, and Eddie watches him down it.
“You sure you’re good?”
“I’m good,” Steve confirms.
By the time they roll into Memphis, they’ve traveled almost 550 miles in a single day. That’s their longest distance traveled in a day so far, Eddie is pretty sure. Eddie can tell Steve is totally exhausted. Eddie would help drive, if Steve would just let him. But he won’t ask. For some reason he feels like that is one of the only normal rules on Steve’s list. That and no smoking. If Steve doesn’t want people to drive his car, or smoke in it, those seem like reasonable requests. He trusts that Steve will let him know if and when he needs help driving.
Steve gets them a room, and tells Eddie to get ready for bed first. Eddie hurries as fast as he can, but still finds Steve asleep on the couch, head resting in his hand, elbow on the arm rest.
He touches his shoulder gently, “Steve, it’s your turn. Let’s go to bed,” he gives Steve his hand, and pulls him up to his feet.
Steve
Eddie lets him sleep in, which Steve appreciates. But as soon as Steve opens his eyes, Eddie is squatting next to his bed, getting eye-level with him, “You wanna go to Graceland today?”
Steve just closes his eyes again and nods. Sure, Graceland sounds fine.
Eddie pays for the deluxe tour for them both, and Steve follows him through the house, the plane and the tour bus. The Jungle Room is really something else. There’s even green carpet on the ceiling.
The tour exits through the carport and they get a good look at the lineup of Elvis’ cars and motorcycles, including the famous pink Cadillac.
When they get back in the car, Eddie turns to him, “That was cool. I was talking to a guy and he said that the rumor is Lisa Marie plans to close it when she turns twenty-five and gains full control. So it’s good we got to see it when we did, I guess.”
“I didn’t know you were such a big Elvis fan,” Steve says, teasing him.
“C’mon, who doesn’t like Elvis? Is it my first choice? No. But it’s still Elvis!”
Steve just laughs at him.
Eddie
Steve decides they need to get some more clothes, since they hadn't planned on being gone this long and he is sick of wearing the same things over and over again. They have the same mall versus thrift store fight they had in Niagara Falls. This time they compromise and do both, because even Eddie will admit he doesn't want to wear used underwear.
In one of the anchor stores in the mall, Eddie grabs a couple packages of plaid boxers and watches Steve peruse the other choices. He finally picks out what is branded as fashion underwear. Eddie isn't sure what makes it fashion, the colors? He's probably seen Steve's underwear, surely he has at this point, but he doesn't remember thinking it was particularly noteworthy. So the extra dollar for some bright colors probably isn't worth it.
Steve looks at Eddie’s choices in his hand, “Do you really only wear boxers? Nothing underneath?”
“Am I supposed to wear two pairs of underwear at once?” Eddie asks, puzzled. This is a weird line of questioning.
“Don’t you feel too…free in boxers? And all bunched up and on the verge of having a wedgie?”
Eddie just shrugs. Not that he's noticed. He's probably used to it.
“I’ve seen your boxers, but I guess I just thought they were a fashion choice. Like another layer, like your vest, or whatever. Not your actual underwear.”
Eddie laughs, “They are my underwear. That’s what boxers are, Steve.”
Steve shakes his head, “Not for me, man. I’ve tried them, and I need more support than that.”
And if that doesn’t just put thoughts in Eddie’s head.
Steve forges ahead, “Are your balls not just always glued to your legs? And what about the random boner problems?”
Eddie is pretty sure his cheeks instantly flush red, “The what, now?”
“Like, when you just get hard for no real reason, so you’re not going to, like, use it, so now your boxers are rubbing you raw and your dick is sticking out. I always felt very on display,” Steve says, heading towards the checkout.
“Are we actually having this conversation or have I had a stroke?” Eddie asks, only partially joking.
“Oh, c’mon, this you’re shy about?” Steve laughs, "I have a dick, I know they have a mind of their own sometimes."
“I mean, I guess if it’s a dire situation, you adjust and tuck? That’s what the waistband is for,” Eddie offers and Steve seems to accept this answer.
Steve gives Eddie a wink and a one-handed finger gun, “For crowd control.”
The burst of laughter that comes out of Eddie couldn't have been contained if he'd tried.
“Yes, Steve, for crowd control.”
They walk by the Gadzooks in the mall and Eddie sees the VW beetle on display in the store, but Steve sees it first, and punches him in the arm.
"Slug bug, no hit backs!" Steve is pleased with himself, clearly.
Eddie takes it, he had it coming. Totally worth it, too, since he finally gets to mark no fun and games off the list. He refused to mark it off until Steve had played along.
At the thrift store, there's a huge display of used cassettes for no more than a quarter each.
"Okay, here's the plan," Eddie says, grabbing Steve by the arm, dragging him over in front of the racks of tapes, "we each pick five. Nothing you'd buy normally. The weirdest collection wins."
"Wins what?" Steve asks, "Terrible music?" But Eddie can tell he's in.
"You can go first. I won’t peek," Eddie says, wandering to the other side of the store to let Steve browse.
When they leave the store, both of their hands are full between the new clothes and the tapes. Eddie has a whole sack full of other cassettes, unrelated to the game, just to freshen up their music options for the next leg of the trip.
Steve
Back in the car, Steve is absolutely rolling with laughter. Eddie picked up the Smokey and the Bandit soundtrack. It’s incredibly timely.
Eddie is looking at the eclectic mix they have to work with. They ended up with two different Dr. Hook albums, one from each of them.
"I have a very serious question," Eddie says.
"Okay?" Steve prompts, ready for whatever Eddie wants to ask.
"Do you not know who Jimi Hendrix is? Because one of these things is not like the others," Eddie says, pointing to the pile of tapes on his lap.
"I mean, vaguely? The cover art was just weird."
"He was one of the greatest guitar players to ever play."
"Metal?"
Eddie cuts him a sideways glance, "No. Jimi Hendrix was not metal. But he was counterculture in his day."
"Like you," Steve says, as a fact.
"Sure."
"What's his best guitar playing?"
"I think that's pretty subjective. It's all good."
"Can you play any of his songs?"
"I like Voodoo Child (Slight Return) the best, so I can kinda play that. His cover of All Along the Watchtower is better than Bob Dylan's original."
"Well, Bob Dylan can't sing, so," Steve says. That's why he almost picked a Dylan album in his mix.
Eddie laughs, "Dylan is Dylan. Amazing songwriter. Sometimes the singing is incidental to a great musician, you know?"
"I guess?" But Steve kind of thinks that the singing should be important. You don't want to sound like a Muppet, like Tammy Thompson. "I didn't figure you'd really like anything other than metal."
"Am I that much of a caricature?" Eddie is teasing him. "Metal is my favorite, obviously. But I do appreciate other music."
It's late and Eddie puts on the Dr. Hook album he'd picked. It's way different than the one Steve had grabbed. Someone must have traded in their entire collection.
Steve wasn't prepared for the melancholy of Only Sixteen. If his eyes water a little, that's his own business. Eddie doesn't see, or at least pretends he doesn’t.
He doesn't harbor feelings for Nance. After spring break, after she chose Jonathan again, he let her go. Again. But fuck if this song isn't a shot to the heart. Maybe he’s still just overly tired.
The follow up song, I Got Stoned and I Missed It is more what he'd expected from Dr. Hook album and a much needed tension breaker.
Eddie sees Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas on the map. And since they are already traveling right near there, Eddie seems to think that sounds promising. Steve is skeptical.
“We can sit in, like, a bubbling hole in the ground,” Eddie says, selling it. Hard.
“That sounds awful,” Steve says, “every fucking hole in the ground I’ve went into has led nowhere good.”
“C’mon!”
“Fine, whatever. Let’s go sit in a hole in the ground. I’m sure nothing will be hiding under the water to drag me into the depths of hell. Again.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that, maybe I won’t like it either. Bodies of water and me aren’t getting along right now,” Eddie admits.
“We’ll be fine. I’m picturing, like a little puddle. Not some vast ocean.”
“Same,” Eddie agrees.
Steve doesn’t know why he’s trying to talk Eddie into doing something Steve has no interest in doing himself. He supposes he just doesn’t want Eddie to be scared of open water forever.
After a few minutes, Eddie asks, after clearly having processed what he’d said, “Just how many holes in the ground have you gone into that this is an ongoing concern?”
“I can think of three off the top of my head,” Steve answers, “but let’s hope number four is fine,” and he smiles at Eddie.
Eddie
Turns out, Hot Springs doesn’t actually have any outdoor springs to speak of. What they have is a Bath House Row, which has dwindled to one, lone bathhouse. And Eddie really, really hopes it’s not a bathhouse in the way he knows of them. Because that will be fucking awkward if he gets Steve prepositioned for sex in a gay bathhouse.
The good news is, it isn’t that kind of bathhouse.
The bad news is, it’s worse.
It’s a vintage public bathing experience. They each have a personal attendant, and Eddie's attendant told him that it’s basically the same since they opened in 1912. Al Capone bathed here, among the other roughly 200 people that do so each day. Eddie does enjoy learning about the history of weird places like this, but his enjoyment is a little spoiled by Steve’s voice bleeding in from the changing stall next to him.
Steve is asking lots of questions of his attendant next door, and Eddie isn’t sure what he’s on about. He doesn’t think Steve is shy, he’s played far too many team sports to be modest about a little male nudity, and he was a swimmer, so, public speedo. So he’s not sure what is up for debate over there. Whatever it is, Eddie is pretty sure the attendant wins when Steve goes quiet.
He gets led into the little area with an oversized bathtub. There’s a thermometer stuck into it, like an oversized version his mother used to use to make Christmas candy. And a boat motor? It can’t be a boat motor, probably a whirlpool of some kind.
His attendant has him sit in the very hot water and turns on the contraption at the end of the tub. A jet of water shoots between his legs and it’s really weird at first. It feels nice, but he doesn’t want it to feel too nice and make this more awkward than it already is.
Eddie can just barely hear Steve’s hushed voice trying to decline being scrubbed. Eddie doesn’t do the same arguing. He just lets his attendant scrub his back and legs with a loofah and it feels kinda nice.
Twenty minutes in a tub of over hundred degree water is a lot, though. Eddie’s brow is sweating by the end, his hair hanging damply around his face. When his attendant comes to retrieve him, Eddie thinks it’s over. No such luck.
Now he’s being laid out on a padded table and draped and wrapped in extremely hot, wet towels fresh from the spring. Steve is lying on the table next to him. Also naked. He refuses to look. He’s already in trouble, he’s definitely not adding fuel to the fire.
Eddie catches movement from the corner of his eye and Steve has turned his head to look over at him. Eddie meets his eyes and he is pretty sure he’s going to be murdered later. Then they both have to look away from each other, because the attendants put cool washcloths on their foreheads to compensate for the very hot wraps all over the rest of their bodies.
Then they are put into some sort of guillotine contraption, to steam only their bodies? Eddie doesn’t know. This is getting weirder by the activity. His head is sticking out of a box. Like he's the assistant in a magic trick.
Now he’s sitting in a weird half tub, just soaking his ass and middle. Jets of water spray down his back, into his sides. The sides of his ass. It’s nice, but Steve is definitely going to kill him. This weird bath is the very last thing he’ll ever do, Eddie is absolutely certain.
Then they each get sprayed down in a needle shower of fresh spring water, hitting them from every angle.
After that they get full body massages. Eddie's never had a massage before and he's pretty sure he doesn't care for it all that much.
They finally get wrapped in big sheets to sit in the cool down room and wait to leave, Eddie refuses to look at Steve. He prefers they get out of here before he gets yelled at. He doesn't want to be dressed down like a child in front of the attendants and other naked bathers.
Once they’ve cooled back down to room temperature, they go back to the lockers to retrieve their clothes and get dressed.
It’s not until they get into the car that he is finally brave enough to fully look over at Steve, apology on the tip of his tongue. But when he does, Steve is smiling.
“That was really relaxing, man, great idea,” Steve says, turning over the key and pulling back onto the road to head to the motel.
Eddie doesn’t know if it was relaxing or not, he was far too worried the entire time to even attempt to enjoy himself. But he’s glad Steve liked it.
Steve is just melted into his bed, snoring. He’s asleep on top of the comforter, in just his new underwear, absolutely dead to the world. Arm slung over his head, stretching his body out. It's ridiculous. It looks deliberate, if not pornographic. He looks straight out of a Playgirl magazine.
Eddie definitely understands the fashion underwear, now. It might be the best extra dollar ever spent by anyone, ever. Either Steve has something to brag about, or the bright red underwear accented in white trim are just really flattering.
Eddie needs to stop looking, he’s being a perv.
Steve must feel his roving eyes in his sleep, because he rolls over onto his stomach. That just gives Eddie a view of his ass, so it's not really remedying the situation.
The snoring does stop, at least.
The bathhouse was a great call, though. This is the most relaxed he’s seen Steve the entire trip. He looks…well, he looks well fucked, and it’s messing with Eddie’s head. His brain keeps trying to tell him to be proud, that he made Steve look like this, which is technically true. He did drag him to the bathhouse. But definitely not in that way.
This was not at all what he had in mind when he led them here. He was expecting an outdoor, bubbling hole in the ground. Not a bathhouse. A totally above the board bathhouse, sure. But it was still a bathhouse.
Eddie undresses himself and climbs into his own bed. It’s early. Way earlier than they usually go to bed, but Steve had crashed early from the relaxing bath experience. Eddie isn’t tired, so he lays there and looks at the cracks in the ceiling.
He reaches down, adjusts himself. Does a little crowd control.
Notes:
My search history must be confusing Google at this point. Why is she obsessed with weird details about 1986? Why is she looking at so many vintage underwear ads? ×D
And I did read a newspaper article from 1987 that had speculation that Lisa Marie would close Graceland when she turned 25 and gained control. We all know that didn't happen, but it was definitely the scuttlebutt back in the day, apparently!
And for an Easter Egg on the traffic ticket, when I was scanning the map of Rocky Top for a street name, there was Roddy. So I felt it was what I had to go with, lol.
Photo Credits: Elvis' cars was in the NY Daily News, the sitz bath is one displayed in the Fordyce Bath Museum in Hot Springs and was taken from the Journey Jotters travel blog. (I read lots of different accounts of visits to Buckstaff Bath House and melded them into one, since they differed a little.) The pictures of The Land Between the Lakes are from Four River Explorers. Joseph is a behind the scenes pic.
Chapter 8: Fire and Rain
Notes:
Thanks so much everyone! I love seeing your comments on the things they do and see! <3
This is a longer one. And the first image is small and low-res, so it will be pretty blurry on a computer. But it looks way better on my phone!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
i've seen lonely times
when i could not find a friend
Fire and Rain, James Taylor
Steve
At some random truck stop on I-30, Eddie finds a big book of a brochure for the State Fair of Texas. Apparently it’s their 100th anniversary year, so it’s a month long, and Eddie is certain that they need to check it out. Steve’s not opposed to having a funnel cake or a corn dog, so he’s on board. At least it isn't an educational stop, for once.
It’s basically a straight shot down I-30 to Dallas, so they settle in for the long haul and Eddie puts on the Dr. Hook tape Steve had picked out at the thrift store. It starts with Freakin' at the Freakers' Ball and Steve cuts a look at Eddie, "Do not tell Robin we were listening to that."
Eddie smiles, he's reading the liner notes, "I think you're just hearing the words and missing that it is an inclusive anthem."
"It is?"
"Definitely. And written by Shel Silverstein. Most of Dr. Hook's stuff is, actually."
"I hesitate to mention I don't know who that is," Steve laughs.
"Oh, you do too. The Giving Tree? Or Where the Sidewalk Ends?"
Steve just looks at him, shaking his head.
"Nothing? Okay," Eddie says, "Johnny Cash's song A Boy Named Sue?"
"I think you're making stuff up again," Steve says.
“You do know who Johnny Cash is, right?”
“Of course, I don’t live under a fucking rock,” Steve snaps.
“Good to know, I was beginning to wonder,” Eddie teases, "you're honestly hopeless, Harrington."
“Our interests just don’t overlap, Munson,” Steve says, which is not great for Steve, because Eddie seems to be interested in everything, ever. Except for the roughly four things Steve knows anything about. That’s bad luck, right there.
He’s never met anyone so curious about things that don’t seem at all interesting. Things that Steve would never even stop to think about learning more about. Steve worries that makes him stupid. Henderson is a curious little shit, but Steve feels he at least understands Dustin’s line of interests. They all seem connected. Science. Technology. Math. Nerdy shit. Eddie is just interested in learning about anything and everything that crosses his path. It’s a little exhausting.
The tape ends with Lookin for Pussy.
"Hey, it's your theme song," Eddie says, teasing him.
"Well, if you find some, let me know," Steve quips. Steve knows about pussy, maybe they could talk about that for a while instead.
The idea makes Steve laugh out loud to himself. Steve just realized they never talk about girls. Steve’s not sure he’s ever had a friend that girls aren't the main topic of conversation. Even Robin and him spend a lot of their time talking about girls.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Steve says, but he smiles at Eddie. Maybe there is one thing in the world that he knows more about than Eddie. Imagine that.
“You’re being weird,” Eddie says, looking back at him.
“Oh, now I’m the weird one, sure,” Steve banters back.
When they get closer, there are actual billboards advertising this State Fair and Steve is a little surprised it is such a big deal. People in Indiana definitely like their fair as well, but not like this. This is something else entirely.
They make it to Dallas and make a plan to get up early and get to the fairgrounds. That way they can at least make it a little ways out of town in the evening.
Eddie
When Eddie looks in the mirror the next morning, he's shocked. His face has decided to freak the fuck out, apparently. His skin is broken out in a handful of spots.
He hasn't looked this bad in years. Not since he was going through puberty.
"Uh, Steve?" he says and Steve appears in the doorway of the bathroom.
"What's up?"
Eddie just waves his hand around in the general direction of his face.
"What the fuck did we get into, man?"
Steve comes up close, takes a hold of Eddie's chin and moves his face around in all directions to get a better look.
"It's probably just from the hot springs opening up your pores."
"Well, what do I do?"
"I don't know, why are you asking me?"
"You're my skin guy!"
"I'm your skin guy?" Steve is looking at him like he's crazy. "I'm not a dermatologist, dude."
"You know the right word for skin doctor, so…"
"Yeah, just because I'm covered in moles. My mom took me to her dermatologist to see if he could remove them. He said they could, but we'd probably need a plastic surgeon and they still might scar. I don't know. I'm not that bothered by them, so it sounded painful and unnecessary."
"Definitely leave them alone," Eddie tells him. They are part of Steve's charm, Eddie is fairly certain.
"She's going to shit rings around herself if she ever comes home and sees my new scars," Steve says, pointing to his neck and just general body.
Eddie meets his eyes.
"Have you…have you not seen your mom since before Spring Break?" Eddie asks.
"Nah, but that's normal. They'll probably be home for Christmas."
It's not normal. Sure, Steve's an adult, he doesn't need constant parental supervision. But Eddie cannot fathom coming out of that hell and not having Uncle Wayne right there. He was there when Eddie woke up in the hospital. He was there at home, making sure he was okay, physically and mentally. He was just there.
Eddie looks back in the mirror, "What would you do, if you broke out like this?"
"Nothing. Wash your face. Gently. But don't mess with it. It's nothing, it'll clear up in a day or two."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure," Steve answers, "it's not bad at all. Just forget about it, okay?"
Eddie nods, but he's not happy about this turn of events, "Why didn't your skin do this?"
"I don't know, luck? Skin does weird shit," Steve says, then gestures down his body, "moles."
"Just think of them as beauty marks, like you're Marilyn Monroe."
Steve laughs and meets Eddie's eyes in the mirror, "Okay, I'll do that."
They pack up the car, and head towards the fairgrounds.
Once they are inside, getting there early was a good idea. There’s not many people in attendance first thing in the morning, apparently. Eddie poses in front of Big Tex, a giant, looming and frankly scary cowboy statue wearing actual clothing, while Eddie’s eating a Corny Dog. Steve takes a picture. Eddie was very adamant that Steve not call it corn dog and offend the Texans. How Eddie knows this, Steve isn’t sure. He’s either read it somewhere (likely) or talked to some stranger (also likely) and has now filed the information away, never to be forgotten. It’s like traveling with Encyclopedia Brown. A really hyper, sometimes stoned, Encyclopedia Brown.
The crowd picks up after lunch. By mid-afternoon there are tons of people milling around.
They ride rides on the midway, including the Texas Star, an absolutely massive ferris wheel that they have to wait in a very long line to ride. It’s worth it. Steve’s never been on anything like it before. You can see really far, at least twenty miles, he'd wager. More if it were really clear out.
There’s free live music, so they sit on the grass for a while and listen while they rest from all the walking they’ve done.
Eddie finds a vendor set up selling guitars and Steve watches Eddie fiddle with a couple of them. The vast majority are acoustic, but there are a few electric and a small amp to try them out. Other people are playing them, mostly terribly.
Whoever thought this was a good idea was nuts, Steve is pretty sure.
Steve cups his hands near his mouth and yells at Eddie, "Free Bird!"
Eddie laughs. He doesn't play Free Bird, but he does play the opening riff of Voodoo Child (Slight Return) and it makes Steve smile.
Steve sits in the grass and watches Eddie play. He transitions into Master of Puppets. He's good. Steve had only heard him from a distance in the Upside Down and it was really only background noise at the time. Proof that they had help out there. But he is good. Good enough that other people are stopping to listen. Eddie's looking down, he isn't aware he's drawing a crowd yet.
The mental image Eddie bleeding out on the ground in the Upside Down pops into his head unbidden, intrusive. That moment of realization that one of them was really fucking down and almost out, had been horrifying. The idea that Robin had been right, that it might not work out this time, was devastating. Steve really didn’t know if Eddie could survive, with the shape he was in, but Steve knew he had to try to get him home alive.
Eddie finishes and that pulls Steve back to the present, so he claps, wolf whistles, hoots and hollers, which gets the small crowd to follow suit.
Eddie laughs, realizes there are people besides Steve looking at him, blushes a little and gently puts the guitar back down.
"You're good, are you not missing your band while we're gone?"
"We haven't played much since, you know. Even The Hideout wasn't clamoring to be associated with me."
"That's shitty."
Eddie just shrugs, "I do miss playing my guitar, though. So that was fun."
Eddie drags him into buildings that house history exhibits. They are at a fucking fair and somehow Eddie has still found a way to be a big nerd. Steve does not care about the history of Texas. Not in the slightest, so he refuses to even pretend. He sits on the floor by the door and just waits for Eddie. He’s not in a bad mood about it, but he’d just rather sit down and wait instead of following Eddie around, feigning interest.
Eddie catches his eye every little bit, just checking in and Steve smiles at him, assuring him everything is okay.
Steve is sitting on a bench. He’s so tired of walking. It’s about time to go, and Eddie is bouncing around in front of him, somehow still full of energy. It’s going to be a long evening in the car, Steve’s pretty sure.
“I’m going to get one of those apple dumplings we saw before we leave, you want one?” Eddie asks, clapping his hands together, prancing about, being a little bit loud and annoying.
“Sure,” Steve says. He doesn’t really care about the apple dumpling one way or the other, but he could use ten minutes of peace and quiet before being trapped in the car with Eddie again.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” and off he goes. Steve watches him disappear into the crowd, a blur of denim and long, windblown hair.
Those ten minutes turn into thirty and Steve gets agitated. They should have been on the road by now. He doesn't want to chase Eddie all over these fairgrounds to wrangle him into the car. The grounds are fucking huge and packed with people, even in the middle of the week. God knows what shiny thing has distracted Eddie, Steve couldn’t begin to guess what he’s doing.
After forty-five minutes, Steve moves from annoyed to concerned. Eddie said he'd be right back and just…never came back. He tries the walkie talkies, but either Eddie’s is dead or he’s too far away. So Steve doesn't move for a very long time. He figures it would be better for one of them to just stay still and wait. The fairgrounds are pretty spread out. If they are both moving, he’s afraid they’ll just keep missing each other until the end of time. Eddie knows where he left Steve, so Steve stays put. He stays until he can’t stand it any longer and eventually walks in circles trying to find Eddie. After about an hour of wandering around Steve gets a little bit frantic. After two, he’s getting physically ill. He throws up in one of the trashcans and is pretty sure he'll never eat another corn dog as long as he lives.
Steve finds the apple dumpling place and asks if a talkative guy in a denim vest was here earlier, and they just shrug. He doesn’t blame them for not paying any attention to the thousands of people that show up every day. But Steve thinks Eddie is pretty damn memorable, so maybe he never made it there.
At a booth he finds a map of the fairgrounds and uses it to go to the lost and found, but they don’t seem to take him seriously once they realize he’s looking for an adult man, not a child.
He’s mad at himself. He should have just gone with Eddie to get the fucking apple dumplings. He was just being lazy and selfish.
Steve waits by Big Tex, he waits by the gate they entered from, he waits by the car when the fairgrounds close. Finally, when it’s well after dark and he’s beyond sick to his stomach, he finds a phone book and looks at the list of motels. What if the phone books they used are slightly different? What if something actually happened to him? But he scrolls up to the A's and jots down the address of the first one on the page.
The Adolphus. 1321 Commerce Street.
After studying the atlas in the car, he thinks the hotel is downtown and is only a couple miles from the fairgrounds. He hops on I-30 and just looks for an exit sign that says Commerce. But it feels like it takes forever to get there. And driving off without Eddie fucks him up, it feels wrong and a little traumatic. He feels like he’s failed Eddie after all, just on a time delay.
It’s on a one way street, of fucking course it is, but after circling around the block in the right direction, Steve pulls up in front of the hotel, parks illegally and runs up the sidewalk.
When Steve rushes into the lobby and Eddie is sitting there in one of the comfy chairs, he starts to cry. Can’t help it. It's like his emotions can't hold themselves together a second longer. Eddie gets up and quickly comes over and hugs him, pats him awkwardly on the back.
"It's okay," Eddie says, still patting him.
"I'm sorry," Steve says into Eddie's hair, finally hugging him back.
"Not your fault," Eddie assures, but it doesn't appease him.
“I should have gone with you,” Steve says, and thinks he must look crazy. He feels like he’s shaking. It’s probably adrenaline, he finally realizes. He reluctantly lets Eddie go when he pulls back.
Eddie rents a room and leads Steve up to it.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, scrubbing his hand across his eyes.
“It’s alright, Steve, I’m the one who wandered off,” Eddie assures, sitting him down on the couch in the room.
He’s overtired, he knows it, but he can’t seem to pull his shit together, “I’m pretty sure I’m illegally parked,” he mumbles.
Eddie
“Okay, stay right here,” and Eddie takes Steve’s keys and goes down and moves the car to an actual parking spot. This definitely doesn’t count as driving the car, this was a necessity, done under distress. He's not sure Steve even knows it's happening.
He quickly stops by the front desk to thank Vera, the lady working, again. She had been kind to him when he came in. All three of the staff members working at the front desk had turned to look at him when he walked in, and he immediately felt out of place. Of course the first hotel in the book had to be a fancy one.
Instead of making them uncomfortable by just loitering, he walked right up to the front desk and explained what had happened. Asked if he could just sit and wait for his friend to hopefully show up. Promised he had money, despite how he looked and would rent a room if his friend remembered the plan and found him here.
The other two had been a little dismissive, but Vera had been kind and even brought him out a cup of black coffee on a little silver tray, with sugar cubes and real cream.
“I’m glad you found your friend,” she tells him, and seems sincere.
“Me too, thank you for being so nice to me.”
She just smiles and he waves a little wave and heads back to the elevator.
When he gets back to the room, Steve looks up, repeats, again, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Steve. I’m fine. You’re fine. I could have found my way home, if the worst had happened, and we didn’t find each other here. But we did. We're okay,” but Steve isn’t really snapping out his stupor.
Eddie digs through Steve’s wallet, finds Robin’s new number at school.
She picks up, “Hey, it’s Eddie. Here’s Steve,” and he passes the phone over to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, Eddie can just barely hear her side of the call.
“I lost Eddie at the fair.”
Eddie corrects loudly in the background, “I lost myself, Buckley!”
“Well, you found him. It’s okay,” she is clearly puzzled by this call. She has to be, it is weird. Steve’s being weird.
Steve just sits there, quietly, phone pressed to his ear. She must realize he has nothing else to say, so she finally says, “Put Eddie back on.”
Steve hands the phone back to Eddie.
“What is going on with him?” she asks, clearly worried.
“He’s okay. We’re both okay. I think we’re just tired and it was kind of scary. I thought talking to you might help. Sorry for calling so late.”
“It's okay. You can call me any time, okay? Are you sure you're okay?” she asks, clearly not really believing this story.
"We're okay," he repeats.
“Okay. But call me tomorrow, alright? Swear it. Call me tomorrow morning to let me know if he’s fine. I don't have class until ten.”
“I promise,” Eddie assures and hangs up the phone.
He looks at Steve, he's just sitting there, motionless, "Let's get ready for bed."
Steve stands, and Eddie leads him into the bathroom. Hands him his toothbrush, washes his own face and Steve follows suit.
Eddie pulls back the comforter and crawls into bed, Steve doing the same in his bed.
Eddie is almost asleep when Steve speaks.
"Eddie."
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
"Me too, Steve."
When Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night, he's sweating because Steve is plastered to his back. He doesn't remember having a nightmare, but he must've. This mattress is extremely comfortable, so maybe he was just so out of it he slept through it.
But now he can feel Steve's chest hair against his bare back, their skin stuck together, a little uncomfortably. Steve's hand is gripping his hip and this is too much. Steve's completely under the sheets with him, sharing his pillow. He's never done that before.
Thankfully their lower halves aren't touching, Steve's hips are angled away, he's just pressing his chest to Eddie's back.
Eddie tries to inch away, but Steve tightens his hand, holding him there. Eddie pulls harder, trying to get free.
"Eddie, hold still, 'm tired," Steve mumbles, and Eddie freezes.
Steve is at least aware of who he's clinging to, so Eddie tries to relax, but he can't. He feels like he’s suffocating. This is crossing a line that Steve isn't even aware he needs to worry about crossing. He's treating Eddie like he's Robin and Eddie knows he is not the same as her. They might be platonic, but there's no capital P in play here. Not when Eddie could feel that way about Steve, if he let himself. He's not going to, he's not insane. He has a modicum of sense for self-preservation. But he could, easily. Steve is just oblivious.
Eddie finally does fall back asleep, but wakes up early and feels guilty when he jerks off in the shower, Steve on his mind. His smile, his eyes, that stupid mustache. He can't let Steve blur these lines. He's built good walls around his relationship with Steve Harrington, has kept him in a nice, neat friendship box and then Steve comes along, a bull in a china shop.
A couple more strokes and Eddie comes in his hand and rests his head against the expensive tile in the shower as the evidence washes down the drain. Fuck.
Eddie lets Steve sleep in as long as he wants. Mid-morning, Eddie goes down to the front desk and pays for an extra night. Steve is clearly exhausted. They’ll just stay another day and recoup. Eddie calls Robin from one of the fancy wooden pay phone booths in the lobby.
“He’s still sleeping, I think he’s just exhausted,” Eddie tells her, “and I scared him to death. I didn’t mean to, I fucking promise, Buckley. I thought we would find each other again. We’ve never had a problem before. I think I broke him. He cried. In the middle of the hotel lobby.”
"Steve didn't even cry with the Russians," she says, thinking out loud, then, “how did you find each other?”
“After that fight we had, we decided if we ever got separated that we’d go to the first hotel, alphabetically, in the phone book. And that’s exactly what I did when it got dark. I didn’t know if he was going to show up, didn't know if he remembered, he took so long. I think he just waited and waited at the fairgrounds. But he finally came.”
“That was smart. That was a smart plan, Eddie.”
“That was all Harrington,” he insists, and it had been Steve’s idea. Thank fucking god.
“Why didn’t you go to the car? Clearly he didn’t leave you,” she asks.
“I couldn’t find the car. Believe me, I fucking looked. I have no sense of direction, I just got turned around and got lost.”
“I’m sorry you got separated,” she says.
“Me too, I feel like an asshole.”
“You’re definitely not an asshole,” she assures, “but, oh, hey, have you told him you’re gay yet?”
Eddie sighs, “That was not a smooth segue, Buckley. But no, it hasn’t come up.”
“Oh, you’ve spent what three weeks? Four? Together in a car and it hasn’t come up. Sure,” she says, giving him shit.
“I don’t want to make him feel weird around me,” Eddie says. Especially not now that Steve has spooned him, half-naked. That seems likes a good way to freak him the fuck out.
“He’ll be cool, I promise. He was so nice to me and he knows you way better than he knew me at the time. "
"It's just different, Robin. You're no threat to him, to his masculinity."
"You're not a threat to him, Eddie. Steve isn't that way."
"He's a teenage boy, of course he's that way."
"He's really not."
"Robin. I've heard him call other boys queer, that's not something you forget, when you are desperately hiding that part of yourself."
"Are you talking about King Steve? Or our Steve? Because, as far as I see it, those are, like, basically, two separate people. Does it make it okay that he did it? Of course not. Is he perfect? No. He was wrong. And he knows that. When Steve knows better, he does better. Always. So our Steve? He would never. He just wouldn't."
"You don't know that," Eddie says, even if he does think she knows that. He knows it, too. He's just scared and being stubborn.
"Oh, I didn't realize you still hated Steve Harrington for being a big jerk at sixteen. I mean, that totally tracks. You have definitely made it a point to steer clear of him."
She's being snarky. He hates it and he loves it.
"You're being mean."
She sighs, but she lets it go, "Fine. Keep hiding this big part of who you are."
"I'll tell him when it feels right for me, for our friendship."
"I hope you're not attempting to steal my best friend. I will end you, Eddie. Don't test me.”
"I'm definitely trying and I'm not even sorry about it," he snarks back. If she’s going to torture him, he’s going to dish it right back. Hit her where it hurts. There's no threat of him stealing Steve from her, Eddie knows that, but she can just worry about it for a while. As payback.
"Not cool, Munson," but she laughs, "we can share custody, okay? You get him on his surly days."
"That doesn't sound like a very good deal for me," but Eddie smiles. But he'll take the surly days, if that's what he's offered.
"So, where are you headed next?" she asks.
“I'm thinking New Mexico. Maybe we’ll find aliens in Roswell.”
“Good luck with that, I would think you two wouldn’t want to chance running into monsters of any kind.”
Eddie laughs, “I honestly didn’t think of that. Do you think the aliens are monsters?”
“No, I think the aliens are fake,” she answers, “but have fun. Bring me a souvenir.”
“We will,” he promises.
“Hey, you’re up,” Eddie says, when he unlocks the door and comes back into the room.
Steve is sitting up in Eddie’s bed, sheets pooled around his waist, hair wild. It’s a sight, that’s for damn sure.
“Did I get in bed with you?” Steve asks, looking over at the other bed, “I’m pretty sure that one was mine.”
“You did. I must have had a nightmare? I don’t remember, though,” Eddie says. He really isn’t so sure that he did, but he’s definitely not going to be the first one to start poking holes in that story if Steve’s not. He’ll roll with it. Steve didn’t do anything inappropriate, and if the man needed a little comfort after a rough day, Eddie won’t fault him for that.
It’s definitely not Steve’s fault that Eddie’s brain is currently urging him to make a mountain out of molehill.
Maybe he just needed to know Eddie was still there. Eddie gets that. He really does. They are damaged in a lot of the same ways, he’s pretty sure. He figures with the parents Steve has, Steve must have some abandonment issues, even if he isn’t totally aware of it like Eddie is of his own.
“What time is checkout?” Steve asks, looking at the alarm clock on the end table.
“I got us another night, thought you could use the rest,” Eddie answers.
“This is an expensive place,” Steve says, really looking around at the room, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind,” and Eddie doesn’t. Sure, he likes to bicker about the cost of the hotel rooms, but he doesn’t actually mind paying for it. Steve’s been generous to him, not only with his money, but with his time. His attention. And Eddie is well aware that he requires a lot of attention to function. He’s been told he’s annoying and draining to be around, so he thinks he’ll owe Steve for the rest of his life, just for putting up with him one-on-one for so long on this trip. He’s sure it’s been a big ask.
He can tell Steve isn’t ready to get back on the road. He’s wiped out from yesterday. So they needed to stay. Sure, they could have packed up and went somewhere else, somewhere cheaper, but that seemed stressful for no good reason.
“I should call Robin,” Steve says, reaching for the phone.
“I just did downstairs. I told her you’re fine. She’s in class now, but I know she’d like it if you call her later to verify my story,” Eddie laughs, sitting down on Steve’s bed.
Eddie has been looking at the big book of amenities in the hotel while Steve takes his shower. As soon as the bathroom door opens, Eddie asks, “You want to go have tea and dessert in the French Room downstairs?”
“I mean, if you want to?” Steve says, looking at him like he’s weird, “Are we really fancy tea people?” Steve is digging through his bag, picking out clothes for the day.
“Of course not, but that’s what will make it fun,” Eddie answers, then offering, “I’ll pay for it.”
That must have been a suspicious thing to say, because Steve looks at him and immediately asks, “How much is it?”
“Ten dollars a person.”
“Ten dollars?! Jesus, I made three-dollars and thirty-five cents an hour at the video store. Three hours of work for tea? It had better be damn good tea,” Steve says, “actually, I don’t even know if I even like hot tea.”
“Good thing they have fourteen kinds to try, then,” Eddie says, tapping the book in his hand, “and I said I’d pay for it, Harrington.”
“Do we need to wear jackets? Believe it or not, I didn’t think to pack one.”
“You know what that means,” Eddie sing-songs, smiling extra wide.
“Thrift store, I know. I can’t wait to see what plaid monstrosity you pick out for me,” Steve says, rolling his eyes.
Eddie realizes belatedly that he’s probably being demanding. Steve might just want to relax in the room, not act like an idiot and drink tea he probably won’t like.
“We don’t have to. If you just want to relax, I can definitely go find something to do to stay out of your hair for the afternoon-”
Steve cuts him off, “No.”
Eddie finishes his thought, “or whatever. Seriously, don’t feel obligated to entertain me.”
Steve smiles, “I think you have that backwards, you are definitely the one entertaining me.”
At that, Eddie smiles back.
Steve
Turns out, Steve doesn’t really like tea. Or the classic guitar music playing in the background, but the desserts and little sandwiches are nice. Except for the cucumber one, that one is disgusting. He also isn’t fond of the ugly western style dinner jacket Eddie foisted upon him. Eddie had found a classic black jacket for himself that fits him absolutely perfectly. Like it was specifically tailored to his body, and Steve will make sure Eddie keeps it, even if he doesn’t think he’ll need it again. You don’t let a piece of clothing go that fits like that.
The little old ladies who lunch are fawning over the both of them and Eddie is having a blast charming them. Steve thinks it’s unfair. The little old ladies in Hawkins are almost certainly scared of him, and these women are eating out of the palm of his hand, completely charmed. He’s pulled his hair back neatly and Steve realizes he’s never seen it out of his face before. He can’t imagine having hair as long as Eddie’s and just having it always be in the way, but Eddie never seems to mind.
When they are finished, Eddie pays the check, as promised.
That evening they lounge around on Eddie’s bed, eating room service, watching television. Steve is impressed that Eddie doesn’t even complain when Steve stops and watches part of game five of the World Series.
They finally go to bed, late, in their own beds.
Eddie
In the first convenience store they stop at once they get back on the road the next morning, there’s a whole display of impulse item junk up front. There, front and center, is a wrist leash, with a colorful coil of stretchy plastic that is meant to attach a child to a parent with velcro so they can’t get lost in a crowd.
When he gets back in the car, he dumps the plastic sack in Steve’s lap, “I’ll wear it if you want me to.”
Steve opens it, confused, but then laughs, deep and genuine when he realizes what it is.
That’s when Eddie knows it’s going to be okay to joke about this.
“If that ever happens again and the hotel thing doesn’t work, call Robin. Or call Henderson. Keep calling our mutual friends and telling them where you are until we’ve called the same person, okay?” Steve says.
“I’m not getting further than three feet from you for the rest of the trip. Hope you didn’t want to have private bathroom time,” Eddie teases and Steve laughs.
Later on down the road, Eddie pulls the patch he’d bought at the fair out of his pocket, “I got this, unless you’re too traumatized for it to go on the jacket?”
It’s a kind of scary cartoon rendering of Big Tex’s face. Steve laughs, “No, it definitely needs to go on there.”
Eddie nods, he’s glad. It might have been a rough day, but it was definitely memorable.
They get out to stretch at a rest stop and Steve comes around to his side of the car and attaches the velcro loop to his wrist.
Eddie doubles over laughing. Steve sets the timer on the camera, takes a few pictures of them tethered together like unruly children. He'll send one to Robin.
After they get them developed, Steve writes on the back of the funniest snapshot problem solved and drops it in the mail to her.
Steve
Eddie directs Steve to pull into a hardware store in Amarillo, Texas. Eddie runs inside and comes back with two cans of brightly colored spray paint.
“What in the hell are you going to do with those?” Steve asks, a little afraid of the answer.
“You’ll see,” is all Eddie says, and gives him more driving directions.
The pull up at Cadillac Ranch. They look at the ten Cadillacs buried nose-first into the ground of a wheat field.
“What is this?” Steve asks.
“Art,” is all Eddie says, and Steve takes the can of spray paint Eddie offers him.
“This is okay?” Steve asks.
“Yes, it’s okay,” Eddie assures.
When they are finished, they each pose for pictures with their art. Steve’s is supposed to be his nailbat, but he really has no finesse with a can of spray paint. No finesse at art, at all, if he’s being honest. So it kind of looks like a cactus, which he partially blames on the bright green spray paint Eddie gave him to work with.
Eddie’s is a big, pink bat (the animal, not the weapon) that covers a good chunk of the roof on one of them. He leans next to it so Steve can take a picture. At least Steve can tell what it is supposed to be, which is more than he can say for his own masterpiece.
They find a cheap motel room for the night and the next morning, once they are back in the car, Steve looks over at him expectantly.
Eddie flips open the atlas, picks a route and relays it to Steve, “Take me to the aliens, Harrington.”
Notes:
Lookin for Pussy isn’t actually on the original cassette release of Sloppy Seconds from 1972. It was released later as a CD bonus track. But I didn’t know that until it was written, and at that point I was married to it, because it entertained me too much.
I found an old TV segment on Youtube highlighting the tea service at The Adolphus in 1982. It cost $10. So that’d be $30.76 in 2022 prices. (It’s actually $65 plus tip in 2022, so Steve and Eddie got a steal.)
The video said the cheapest room in 1982 was $95. That’s $292.19 in 2022. Actual cost for the cheapest room today, $293, for a king bed. (There was my chance for the only one bed trope, lol!) So, dead on there, inflation calculator! So I’d say Eddie paid about $108 a night in 1986.
Photo credits: The billboard was from the official State Fair of Texas website and is actually from 1953. Big Tex was from Pinterest. The Fletcher’s ad was from Ebay from 1986. Dr. Hook’s Sloppy Seconds is from Discogs. The phone booths aren’t in the Adolphus, but the Harvard Club in NYC and were photographed by Ephemeral New York. I imagine they must have had something similar! If you want one of the scary Big Tex patches, they are available on Walmart.com, lol. Cadillac Ranch is in the Library of Congress. I added their “art” to it.
Chapter 9: Peaceful Easy Feeling
Notes:
Thanks so much for the feedback, it's always so fun to see what you have to say! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
and i want to sleep with you in the desert tonight
with a billion stars all around
Peaceful Easy Feeling, Eagles
Steve
Steve doesn’t know what he had in mind when he pictured Roswell, New Mexico but this isn’t it. There just isn’t all that much to see. But they can say they’ve been, he guesses, so there’s that.
They make a mistake, not realizing that the Roswell Museum and Art Center on the map has absolutely nothing to do with aliens. Eddie doesn't mind, he looks at the exhibits and learns about the American Southwest. Steve wishes there were more little green men.
Eddie had recounted the entirety of The Roswell Incident book he read a couple years ago during their drive across Highway 60 and Steve had listened. Steve doesn’t believe it, and he doesn’t really think Eddie does either. Eddie just loves a good story, and Roswell is definitely a good story. And Eddie is a good storyteller. He should, like, record books on tape. If he did, Steve might want to “read” something.
Steve doesn’t know why he’s so cynical about the prospect of aliens. He’s seen with his own eyes, killed more than one, of what can only be described as an alien being. So he doesn’t know why he’s judging these other people, they very well might be telling the truth as far as he knows.
They find a little alien keychain for Robin and a funny t-shirt for Dustin.
They find a cheap room to spend the night and then they head out of town.
Eddie sees Weed, New Mexico on the map and gives Steve directions. It isn’t much of a town, very tiny, but Eddie takes a picture by the Weed Café which is also somehow the post office? And Steve takes a picture of him sitting on the rock wall in front of the Weed Church, where there are horses just grazing, loose, out front. Eddie pets one, and is just having a grand time, entertaining himself. Steve is a little scared of horses, but he's not about to tell Eddie that. He'd never live it down. So he just stays back, taking pictures.
At the Weed city limit sign, Eddie makes sure the coast is clear, lights a joint and Steve captures pictures of him blowing perfect smoke rings into the sky as he poses next to it. Steve is certain he’s never looked that cool in his entire life.
Steve passes on taking a hit, he’s still driving, but lets Eddie smoke as he leans next to him by the trunk of the car.
They are both combing the racks in a small town thrift store right off I-25. They've kind of embraced the habit of hitting thrift stores and just buying and disregarding clothes as they see fit. They have the staples in their own stuff they packed, but they keep supplementing their wardrobes, keeping what they love, re-donating what they don't.
Eddie finds a bowling shirt, clearly used for a bowling league once upon a time. The back has a huge print and the team name Splits for Brains. The embroidered name on the front says Steve. He tosses it at Steve, "Meant to be!"
Steve is certain Eddie is still a little stoned and Steve isn't sure this is going to bode well for Eddie's taste in clothes. For Steve. He's sure Eddie will do just fine for himself.
Eddie also finds a really, really faded t-shirt with Elvis on it. Not Steve's first choice, but it is ridiculously soft. He'll wear anything this soft, he doesn't even care what's on it.
And that one is paper-thin, and so, so soft. Nearly threadbare, but Steve can't believe someone donated a shirt they spent that much time breaking in. Get it perfect and then throw it away? Insanity. He kind of wants to rub it against his cheek.
He laughs at the thought and starts to wonder if he has a bit of a contact high. He doesn't usually have that strong of an opinion on how shirts feel.
Eddie scrapes the hangers across the rack, and finally finds himself a couple black tees and Steve is not surprised. Eddie's wardrobe is fairly monochrome.
Steve sees a dull red shirt with a peeling, glittery iron-on print of a devil. He holds it up to show Eddie. Eddie nods and Steve throws it to him.
After looking through what must be all the racks, Eddie finds Steve a faded Adidas sweatshirt. It's not the t-shirt he's still mourning the loss of, but he'll take it.
Looking at the display on the counter, Eddie picks out a truly ridiculous pair of sunglasses for Steve. They have a pinkish-red tint and aren’t at all his style, but they make Eddie laugh, so he buys them.
Their next stop is Truth or Consequences, New Mexico and it seems like an interesting leap from Weed to Truth of Consequences. Apparently they’ve moved into the funny town name portion of the trip.
“Hey look, this town has hot springs, too!” Steve says, pointing at the map. It's right there in red, meaning it is a point of interest.
“No way, I just got my face back to normal,” Eddie argues, “but if you want to, I’ll wait outside.”
“That’s okay,” Steve says, “but I didn’t realize there were hot springs all over, I guess.”
“Yellowstone is full of them,” Eddie says.
“Is Old Faithful a hot spring?”
“Old Faithful is a geyser, but maybe the water comes from the hot springs?” Eddie ponders out loud, “I’m not really sure.”
If Eddie doesn’t know, Steve definitely doesn’t.
Instead of hitting the bathhouses, they hang out on Rattlesnake Island in Elephant Butte State Park, Eddie is skipping rocks out across the water of the Rio Grande. It’s peaceful and calm, hardly anyone else is around, which probably isn’t all that weird for a Sunday evening in late October.
Steve’s wearing his new-to-him Adidas sweatshirt.
“Are there actual rattlesnakes out here?” Steve asks, hollering over to Eddie.
“I don’t know, maybe?” Eddie answers and that’s not very reassuring. “Watch your step, I guess,” he adds, tossing another rock across the water. Steve watches it bounce one, two, three, four times before sinking.
Eventually they wander over to the campground area and Steve suggests that they finally use the tent he had packed. Eddie tells him it’s going to be cold, that the desert can get cold at night, despite the daytime temperature, but Steve waves him off.
They decide to go back into town to eat dinner at a little cafe and they stop at the little general store and buy things to make s’mores later.
They struggle with the tent, Eddie keeps blowing his bangs out of his eyes and Steve nearly tripped over the pile of tent poles. It's not going well and neither of them are all that sure all the pieces are actually in the bag, but they make it work. It’s a little dome tent and it’s going to be cozy, that’s for sure. Steve realizes he hasn’t used this since he camped in the backyard with Tommy H. many, many years ago when he was much younger. And shorter.
He almost takes Eddie’s shin out with one of the metal poles, but Eddie jumps out of the way, “Easy there with that deadly weapon, Harrington.”
“Sorry!” Steve says, wrangling it away from Eddie’s general direction.
They do get it put together just before it’s totally dark, which is a minor miracle, as far as Steve can tell.
Eddie
“Do you know how to light a fire?” Eddie asks, circling the fire pit. He isn’t totally sure he’s comfortable with what Steve’s doing right now.
“Yes, I was a boy scout,” he snaps, and Eddie puts his hands up in surrender.
Steve eventually gets the fire going, but it wasn’t fast or pretty. Eddie watches as he toasts the first marshmallow, gets it good and black and then makes a s’more that he hands over to Eddie.
“Thanks, Harrington,” he says, licking the gooey marshmallow from his own fingertips. It’s really good. Eddie doesn't know the last time he had a s’more. He was probably a kid. Back when he was poor, but not considered a freak quite yet. When he had friends that weren’t just assigned to him because they didn’t fit anywhere else either. Friends that truly liked him for him. Not just ones that were following him, simply because he was the de facto leader, since he’d been in high school longer than any other person on earth.
He likes Gareth and Jeff, he does, and he loves Henderson. But it’s not the same as that magic of childhood friendship.
Being with Steve on this trip feels a little like that same magic, and it does something to Eddie that he doesn’t want to contemplate too hard. Steve Harrington is his friend. He’s not sure if he’s really Steve’s friend, he likes to think so, though he’s sure that’s much to Steve’s dismay. King Steve has lots of friends. He probably doesn't need another friend, especially one as weird as Eddie. But he’ll take this strange friendship limbo they’re in, it’s better than nothing.
"Okay, this was a bad idea," Steve says, pulling another sweatshirt over his other clothes. He looks ridiculous, but Eddie’s glad they went and bought extra fall and winter clothes when they decided to keep going. He thinks they might be wearing them all right now, layer upon layer.
Steve zipped the sleeping bags together, and Eddie didn’t feel like he could object without making it weird.
Eddie keeps calling it Elephant Butt, just to get Steve giggling. Maybe it’ll help keep him warm.
Eddie shakes his head, "Who knew the desert gets cold at night? Nobody could have predicted this. Nobody at all."
Steve glares, but there's no heat there, "You were right, Eddie. I was wrong. Fuck you, very much."
Eddie laughs, they definitely aren't going to freeze to death, but it is uncomfortable. Though, it is totally worth it to see Steve eat crow. Of all the times to pull out the tent, Steve had to choose now.
When Eddie wakes up in the morning, Steve has completely wrapped himself around Eddie, again, trying to steal his body heat and it's a little less funny than it was the night before, now.
It's not like he can really feel Steve this time through all the clothes they're both wearing, but the idea is still enough to spike Eddie's heart rate.
He has to put a stop to this.
He needs to tell Steve he's gay to prevent any unnecessary fallout when Steve inevitably finds out and then replays every innocent touch between them and is disgusted.
Eddie tries to roll away, but there’s literally nowhere to go. There’s no room, not in the sleeping bag or in the tent, and they are both stuffed into their clothes like they are the brother from that Christmas movie Henderson made him watch last winter.
“Ugh, ‘m cold,” Steve says into Eddie’s back.
“It’ll be warm in the car,” Eddie offers, hoping he can get Steve up and at ‘em.
Steve groans, but starts untangling himself from Eddie.
They stand outside and brush their teeth. Eddie hands his toothpaste to Steve.
Steve looks at it, “Toothpaste for smokers, really?”
Eddie shrugs, “I am a smoker, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I smoke sometimes and I don’t use that.”
“You’re a social smoker, there’s a difference,” Eddie tells him, and it’s too early and too cold to be debating about toothpaste in the desert.
“I need a shower,” Steve says, forgetting about the toothpaste, scrubbing his hand through his hair, pushing it back off of his face, “I feel gross.”
“The campground probably has showers,” Eddie offers and then wants to sew his own mouth shut. He does not want to take a communal shower with Steve. A communal bath was enough.
“Okay,” Steve says, still mostly asleep.
Luckily the showers do have a semblance of curtains, so he can only see the lower part of Steve’s legs and the top of his head, as he’s standing in the stall next to him. Steve’s lathering his hair, aggressively.
They are kind of rustic showers, but the water is hot.
“At least the water is hot!” Eddie yells over to Steve.
Eddie realizes he’s forgotten his shampoo in the car, “Can I borrow your shampoo?”
Steve looks at him over the curtain, and really looks like he wants to say no.
“Don’t say a word,” Steve grumbles and passes it over. Faberge Organics. Eddie isn’t surprised in the slightest, so he doesn’t know what Steve is being weird about.
“Thanks, man.”
Steve hands over the conditioner after he’s done using it.
“I don’t really use conditioner,” Eddie says, and Steve looks at him like he's speaking gibberish.
“Well, that explains a lot,” Steve finally says, dryly.
“Rude,” Eddie says, but laughs.
Eddie doesn’t usually use conditioner, because his Pert says it has conditioner in it, so it’s one and done, thank you very much. But he puts some of Steve’s conditioner in his hair, anyway. Steve has good hair, so he figures it is something to maybe defer to him about, just this once.
After they finish their showers, they stand at the wall of sinks and shave, side by side. Eddie is just happy his face finally cleared up. He felt fourteen instead of twenty.
“I suppose you’re too manly for shaving cream, too?” Steve asks, lathering up his own face.
Eddie laughs, he's not entirely sure he's ever been called manly by another guy before. So that's new, but he pulls out his can of Barbasol and waves it at Steve.
“You missed a spot,” Eddie says, indicating towards Steve’s upper lip and Steve just rolls his eyes.
Steve finishes first and is just messing with his hair, finally he takes a can of hairspray out of his toiletries bag.
“Now you just know all my secrets,” Steve says, giving his damp hair a few sprays of it.
His hair defies gravity, so of course he’s using hairspray, why would he think Eddie would be surprised by that? He’s more surprised that there isn’t a hair dryer involved.
“I wondered how you got it to go up like that,” Eddie says, though he didn’t really ever think about it. That's just what Steve's hair looks like, he didn't think beyond that being a fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Steve Harrington has tall hair.
“I’ve got a cowlick or two, so it really wants to go that way on its own already. And now it’s just kinda trained to do it, at this point,” Steve admits.
Eddie looks at himself in the mirror. His bangs are out of control, "You don't happen to have scissors, do you? My bangs are driving me crazy."
"I have a little pair," Steve says, pulling out a tiny travel pair of scissors, "we can stop at a barber shop, you know."
"I can trim them, I just didn't think to pack scissors."
Eddie didn't assume they'd be gone long enough to need a haircut, but here they are, over a month in, with no sign of heading home yet.
The little scissors aren't ideal, but they'll do in a pinch. Anything will be an improvement.
Eddie looks in the mirror on the visor as they move down the highway, and he’s definitely having a good hair day, it’s not as frizzy as it usually is. But he definitely doesn’t want to tell Steve that and give him the satisfaction of being right.
It’s as if Steve can read his mind, because he immediately says, “Your hair looks good today, I wonder why that is?”
Eddie flips him the bird, "Probably my newly trimmed bangs."
"Oh, yes, that's for sure it," Steve says, sarcastic as shit.
Okay, so maybe his curls, just like his face, need some moisture, from time to time.
“Is there anything else I need to be moisturizing?” Eddie asks, and Steve smiles.
“Well, since you asked, your elbows could use a little lotion,” and Eddie groans, he had that coming for even asking for Steve’s two cents.
Eddie runs his hand over his elbow. It doesn’t feel rough.
His elbows are fine, “My elbows are fine!”
Steve laughs, “They probably are, I was just messing with you.”
It’s a boring stretch of road, so Eddie asks, “Two truths and a lie.”
“Ugh, no,” Steve says, cutting him a sideways glance.
“Steve.”
“Eddie.”
“Fine, I’ll go first. Hmm,” Eddie says, thinking. He doesn’t want to give anything too important away, he likes to keep things close to the vest.
“I don’t really like to read. I like some of your music picks. I’m pretty happy with my life.”
Steve looks at him, and asks, “I thought you liked to read?”
“I do. That’s the lie, Harrington.”
“You like some of my music?!” Steve screeches, “I’m telling everyone I know.”
Eddie laughs, deadpans, “Oh no, please don’t tell Robin and Henderson, I’ll never recover from their judgment.”
Steve looks over again, smiles, “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m happy, too. Yeah, we’ve been dealt some bullshit hands, but honestly? As a whole? I’m pretty happy, too.”
Eddie smiles, “Glad to hear it. Your turn, now.”
“I'm a relationship guy. I had a crush on Robin. I hate being the babysitter for the kids.”
“You love those kids,” Eddie says.
“I love those kids,” Steve confirms.
“Tell me more about this crush on Robin,” Eddie teases him.
“Ugh, embarrassing.”
“Because she’s a lesbian?” Eddie teases.
“And I had no idea. So I just word vomited all over her, and she had to be like, dingus, no.”
“You told her?” Eddie laughs, “I thought maybe you liked her in secret, knowing she wasn’t into your boy parts. I didn’t know you hit on her.”
“I mean, I was sincerely into her. Not just knee jerk flirting like I do with other women. Where I throw everything at the wall and hope something, anything, sticks. I got to know her and really liked her. So I told her that.”
“That’s pretty brave.”
“I mean, the worst they can do is say no, right? Robin gets mad at me, because I try to get her to do the same thing with girls and she says it’s not the same.”
“I get what she’s saying, she’s not wrong, Steve. Nobody wants to be the freak, the town pariah,” Eddie says.
Steve nods, “I know. But I just want her to be happy.”
“I know,” Eddie agrees.
“So, yeah. Friends instead.”
“And you just…shifted how you felt?”
“I guess? It wasn’t as hard as it sounds. I liked her, and she had a legitimate reason for not liking me back and I wasn’t about to lose her over a little bit of unrequited feelings, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. You can't really help it if you're just not into boys or girls.”
"Exactly. All the things I liked about her are great as a best friend, too."
"Do you still wish she liked you back?" Eddie hadn’t thought much of it, but he had noticed while he was digging through Steve’s wallet in Dallas that the only picture Steve carries in there is one of Steve and Robin in their Scoops Ahoy uniforms.
Steve laughs, hard. "No, man. I love her. But I'm not in love with her, I never was. I'm sure I could have been, if things were different, but she got me lined out before things got too weird."
Eddie nods, "She's a cool girl. I'm not glad for the sequence of events that brought us all together, but I am glad I got to know you guys."
"Me too, Eddie. Preconceived notions are a bitch, huh?"
"For sure," Eddie agrees, sitting back in his seat, getting comfortable again, "are you really a relationship guy? Because your reputation precedes you, Harrington."
"I mean, yeah? I think so. In a perfect world, I'd be a relationship guy. I'm just not what anybody wants long term, you know? I'm good for a fuck, but nobody wants to, like, be stuck talking to me for the rest of their life."
"That cannot be true, Steve. I like talking to you."
"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says and smiles a little shyly, "I like talking to you, too. But girls, they think I'm an idiot. I kind of am, I know that. I'm not unaware. But I would really try to be a good boyfriend, given the chance. I can learn. I can try. Despite all evidence to the contrary."
Eddie hates that Steve thinks so little of himself. He doesn't know what happened to make him this way, but he thinks maybe Nancy Wheeler has fucked him up a little. He doesn’t know exactly what happened after spring break, but he feels guilty that he encouraged Steve to pursue her again, only for Steve to be shot down. But Eddie has eyes, he saw the way she was looking at Steve. He doesn’t know what changed when Jonathan Byers rolled back into town.
"I've never been a boyfriend, not really, so I have no well to draw from here to offer any advice. Casual sex is all anyone wants from the freak. You don't want to be seen out in public with him or anything."
"Eddie, that's not true."
It is, but Eddie knows the queer thing is part of the complication. Being out just isn't in the cards when you're already hated for other reasons. Don't add fuel to the already out of control fire.
"Aren't we just a pair of sadsacks?" Steve says, smiling.
It's a good smile, Eddie thinks.
"I think we just need to get laid," Steve adds, laughing, "we've been on the road so long we've forced ourselves into dry spells. Not cool."
Eddie thinks a month isn't a dry spell, but won’t tell Steve that. A month is a totally normal amount of time, even when he’s open to looking. Which he hasn’t been lately. He hasn't had sex since before spring break. Steve would come unglued if Eddie dropped that bombshell on him. Eddie just hasn't been in a rush to answer questions from strangers about his freshly marred body.
"We can hit a bar, try our luck?" Eddie offers. He won't be doing any such thing, but he can definitely stay out of Steve's way for a couple hours.
"Sure, we could do a bar. It'll give me a chance to see if my charm is still intact."
Eddie could answer that question for him, but keeps his mouth shut.
"I've tried to get away from all the one-night stands, but desperate times call for desperate measures," Steve says, with a chuckle.
"I thought you were probably the king of those," Eddie banters back, "a real love 'em and leave 'em type." He's heard the stories. Everyone's heard the stories.
Steve laughs, "I think I was more a love 'em and they'll leave me, kind of guy."
Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. Steve's laughing, but that was a brutal piece of honesty, Eddie can tell.
Steve doesn't make him say anything, finally just says, "Let me know if you see a bar that looks promising."
"That's a big 10-4, good buddy."
Steve cracks up, "Thank god I didn't cave on the CB."
Eddie fumbles around and finally finds the Smokey and the Bandit soundtrack tape.
"If I'm Bandit, does that make you Smokey?" Steve asks, smiling over at Eddie.
"Only if we're talking weed," Eddie snarks, shoving the tape into the tape deck, "and are we really going to say you're Bandit?"
"You're the one that called me Bandit!" Steve yells, clearly affronted by Eddie playing stupid.
"Did I? I don't remember that," Eddie teases, "I guess, you've definitely got the chest hair of Burt Reynolds, but your mustache isn't even in the ballpark."
Steve shoves at him playfully and it makes Eddie giggle.
They sing West Bound and Down at the top of their lungs and Steve puts the hammer down, heading down the open, desert highway.
Notes:
The International UFO Museum And Research Center in Roswell didn’t open until 1991, so to a real museum they had to go. Poor Steve, lol.
A Christmas Story didn't start its 24 hour marathon on TNT until 1997. But it was on HBO by this time.
This smoker's toothpaste commercial from 1985 killed me, lol.
Photo credits: Weed church from the city’s official site. Joe in Adidas in from Pinterest, I couldn't trace it back to anywhere else. The tent is from the Our Globetrotters site. The picture of Elephant Butte is from the NM.gov site. Joe and Maya is a behind the scenes pic from S3 posted to the official Twitter. The highway is just Google Streetview from Highway 60.
Chapter 10: Stuck in the Middle with You/The Weight
Summary:
CW: This is the chapter with the canon typical violence.
Notes:
As always, thanks so much for the comments and support! It makes my day to know people are connecting with this story! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
well i don't know why i came here tonight,
i've got the feeling that something ain't right
Stuck in the Middle with You, Stealers Wheel
Steve
They stop at the bank of payphones at a truck stop. Steve tries to call Robin, but she doesn’t pick up. So they call Dustin instead, and make sure they don’t tell him he was their second choice phone call.
"Are you guys ever coming home?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.
"Maybe, maybe not," Eddie answers. They are pressed close together in the phone booth so they can both hear and talk into the receiver at the same time.
"I have a date for homecoming, and you jackasses aren't even here for me gloat," Dustin says.
"We're proud of you, Henderson," Steve says, and he means it. He’s glad things are normal back home.
“Be a gentleman,” Eddie adds.
Steve smiles at him, that’s good advice, and something it wouldn’t hurt to remind Dustin of from time to time.
"Hopper is looking for you," Dustin says, "he wants you to call him."
"What do they think I've done now? I'm 1500 miles away, Jesus H. Christ!" Eddie all but yells, throwing a mini tantrum, and it hurts Steve’s ears in such close proximity.
"Calm down, you psycho, I was talking to Steve,” Dustin clarifies.
Steve swallows hard, instantly sick to his stomach, "Everything is okay there, right? No monster shit?"
"Not as far as I know," Dustin answers, and he's not even smartassed about it.
"Can you look up his number for me?" Steve asks, but he really doesn’t want to call Hopper. He doesn’t want to know about whatever fresh hell is going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to turn around and go home. Not yet.
But Steve runs back to the car to find something to write on, and comes back with Eddie's list.
"Okay, I'm ready," and Dustin gives him the number.
"Thanks, Henderson. Here's Eddie," and he hands the phone fully over to Eddie.
"Henderson!" Eddie yells and Steve grins, even if he's nervous about what Hopper might want. They aren't exactly phone friends. Aren’t friends at all, not really. But if he needs Steve’s help with Upside Down shit, Steve’s gonna be there.
He calls Hopper from one of the other phones. This definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. He didn’t know what to expect, but a job offer wasn’t on the shortlist of ideas he’d come up with as he dialed.
"I just thought it might be nice to have someone I trust helping me. Someone that knows about this weird bullshit."
Steve is quiet for a second, "Is there new weird bullshit right now?”
“No, but if it comes back,” Hopper says. They both think it’s coming back, in one way or another, Steve thinks they are just not lucky enough for Vecna to have been the end of it.
“And you trust me?" Steve isn’t sure Hopper should.
He can hear Hopper sigh in exasperation, "Yes, Harrington. Just come in and talk to me about it."
"I'm on the other side of the country right now, on a road trip. I don't know when we'll be home." Steve is not rushing home for this, he’s just not.
"Dustin Henderson said you were gone. With Wayne Munson's boy?"
Steve isn't sure if there's judgment there or not. But Hopper knows Eddie is innocent, knows intimately that Hawkins is rotting from the inside out.
"Yeah, his nephew. Eddie."
"There's no deadline, Harrington. Think about it. Come see me when you're back. Whenever that may be."
"Okay, I will," Steve says, he will at least think about it.
He thinks the conversation is over, but then he spontaneously adds, "We ran into something in Kentucky. London, Kentucky. I didn't see it, and I didn't tell Eddie, but there was a man, a hunter. At our motel. He'd killed something. So there's other shit out in the world. I just don't know what."
Hopper is quiet on the other end of the line for a long while, then says, "Don't you go looking for trouble, Harrington."
"We won't. I promised Eddie before we left home. I made sure we ran. We ran so fast I got a speeding ticket."
Hopper laughs, "Keep running. It's one thing to jump in and fight here at home, but you leave the problems in the rest of the world to others. Okay, kid?"
"I will. I promised Eddie. He's not a fighter."
"Just a troublemaker."
"He's really not," Steve insists. He’ll have this fight with Hopper, if that’s what Hopper wants.
"Me hauling his ass home a time or ten in the back of my cruiser contradicts that," Hopper laughs, but then says, "I know he's not a bad kid, Harrington. You two have fun. Stay out of trouble."
“Hopper wants me to join the police department," he tells Eddie when they get back in the car, "that's weird, right?"
Eddie smiles, wolfishly, leaning far too close to Steve’s face, "You gonna handcuff me, officer? Make me behave?"
Steve's pants are suddenly more than a little tight at the image Eddie's put in his head. That's new and very embarrassing. He just hasn’t been laid in a while, so he can’t help what his dick is doing right now. It's gone rogue.
A couple hours ago, Eddie had spotted a roadhouse outside of Alpine, Arizona advertising cold beer right on the side of the building and commanded Steve to pull into the gravel parking lot. Steve wasn’t so sure this was the type of place to troll for women, but it turned out Eddie had made a good call and Steve is having fun.
There’s a girl, Lori, that is clearly interested in him. He'd seen her clock Eddie and him when they came in together and it didn't take her long to approach them at the bar. It was obvious to Steve that he was the one she was interested in, and it must have been obvious to Eddie too, because after a few polite minutes, he grabbed his beer and headed over to the pool tables, leaving Steve to try his luck.
Lori’s crowded next to him at the jukebox while he feeds it quarters, as she picks out songs. Apparently she likes someone called Dwight Yoakam, and she picks out a handful of songs and tries to teach him the right dance moves. It's too fast, he can't really keep up, but he's trying.
She said it's the two-step. Or country swing. Or something, he knows she said what it was called, and it went in one ear and out the other. He’s terrible at it, truly terrible, but it’s a Monday night so the place isn’t that busy. They basically have the whole dance floor to themselves, so he’s not worried about embarrassing himself too much. He'll never have to see any of these people ever again. Well, besides Eddie, and Steve knows that Eddie is already more than well aware he’s an idiot.
She keeps saying quick, quick, slow, slow and it means nothing to him.
They dance while Eddie hustles some guys at the pool table in the corner. Eventually Eddie comes over to them on the dance floor, bows exaggeratedly and holds out his hand to her like he’s a fancy gentleman. She looks at Steve, questioning. When Steve smiles and nods, she takes Eddie's offered hand. Steve is definitely curious what Eddie is playing at.
Steve doesn't have to wonder long, because Eddie spins her around the dance floor with ease. Then gets her into his arms, moving his feet in a shuffling kind of way, guiding her backwards around the floor. Steve watches Eddie's feet, and oh. There it is. Quick, quick, slow, slow. He can see it now. He doesn't know if he can do it, but he can at least understand what she means. Steve is in awe watching Eddie turn her in a very controlled way before spinning her right back into Steve’s arms, “I just need the car keys. More smokes,” Eddie says, and Steve digs into his pocket and hands them over.
Steve is tickled, Eddie is always such a fun surprise, all the time. How on earth he would know anything about country dancing, is completely beyond Steve. Steve wishes he could ask for a turn without it being weird. It looked like fun. But he knows that's a socially inappropriate thing to ask another guy, even someone as non-conforming as Eddie. So he doesn't and just appreciates Eddie for being a damn good wingman. Lori is closer to him than she's been all night and Eddie hand-delivered her.
Steve is contemplating exactly how he is going to get her to slip away from the bar with him for an hour to get his dick back under his control, when he realizes Eddie hasn’t come back inside.
Steve’s flirting goes downhill, because he is putting all of his attention into watching the door because Eddie doesn't come back and doesn't come back and doesn't come back. After losing him in Texas, Steve doesn't like that he doesn't know where he is for this long. Steve finally excuses himself, and goes looking for him, and when sees what is happening, he loses his goddamn mind.
A group of men have Eddie cornered outside of the bar, calling him every vulgar name they know. Eddie had been hustling them while playing pool, but as far as Steve had seen, he hadn't been belligerent about it. Steve didn’t even see them follow Eddie out. He should have been paying better attention.
Eddie's lip and nose are both bleeding and one guy has Eddie pinned to the alley wall, arm across his neck. Eddie is fighting to get loose, but isn't making much headway.
"Oh look, his boyfriend is here to save the day," one of them taunts.
Steve starts a brawl. But there are too many of them, and they get Steve down on the ground with relative ease, kicking the shit out of him. They're holding him down in an uncomfortable crouch by the hair, and he just has no fucking leverage to move. From his squat, they finally kick him to his knees. One of them holds his arms behind his back and he doesn’t have any choice but to take a hell of a beating. The one behind him finally lets him go, but the one with his fist in his hair, gives a hard yank and drags him across the asphalt on his knees for a few feet, Steve trying desperately to find purchase on the ground with his hands. He can’t get a hold on anything to make it stop, and he starts to panic a little. Right on time, Eddie lets out a scream that startles everyone just long enough that Steve is finally able to squirm out of their grasp and crawl away. He staggers to his feet, swaying.
He has blood in his eyes and it fucking burns, but he’s able to turn enough to look at Eddie, to check on him.
Eddie's okay, but his big eyes are somehow even larger than usual, terror stricken. Steve nods at him, trying to convey that he’s okay, but he’s not sure Eddie is catching what he’s trying to telegraph.
Steve thinks Eddie could hold his own if he hadn't been so outnumbered, Steve had looked down the barrel of Eddie's dangerous wrath in that boathouse. But that had been just him against Steve and Steve hadn’t wanted to hurt him in the first place. This is a whole new ballgame.
Tonight Eddie was overpowered and unarmed. Backed against a wall. Eddie Munson isn't weak, but he looks pretty fucking small right this second.
One of the men flick open a switchblade and Steve lunges towards Eddie, running on pure instinct and fear. He’s not letting anything happen to him if he can stop it.
Steve is able to shove off the one holding Eddie down, but there are still men on both sides of them. Eddie comes off the wall swinging, and fights his way through until he’s putting his back against Steve's back. There are a few more punches thrown, a grapple or two, but nobody gets stabbed before the cops show up and threaten to haul everyone in the alley to jail.
Steve's never been in police handcuffs before, it's more uncomfortable than he'd expected. Not tied up and tortured by Russians uncomfortable, but not still not a great time. His hands are cut up, his arm hurts, his knees ache, he can feel it all now that the adrenaline is fading. Eddie seems physically okay beside him, but his jaw is clenched. Steve can tell he's pissed the fuck off. Steve’s never seen Eddie this quietly seething before, and he doesn’t like it. At all.
"I'm sorry," Steve says quietly, even though they are alone in the car, "I shouldn't have started a fight."
"Not your fault, Harrington," he says, but he’s looking straight ahead, refusing to look at Steve, although Steve is sure it's obvious Steve’s trying to catch his eye.
Steve nods, looks away, but knows it is his fault and Eddie is mad at him. He doesn’t blame him. Eddie's in handcuffs because Steve's temper got away from him and turned an already bad situation even worse. Steve thinks that’s something he’s pretty good at, even when he has the best of intentions.
The cops had pulled them apart, and had interviewed them separately. They must have told similar enough stories, because they were put into the back of the same squad car to wait. Steve really, really doesn't want to go to jail, even here in Podunk, Nowhere. But he’d do it the same way again, presented with the opportunity, he just knows it. They’re a team now, and there’s a zero percent chance he’d do anything other than get right in the middle of it all over again. If Eddie could swim down into the water gate to help save Steve’s ass, Steve could certainly get in a little bar fight to return the favor.
The cop had asked Steve all kinds of questions, mainly about Eddie. How did he know him? Why were they traveling together? Was Steve with him of his own free will?
Steve was offended on Eddie's behalf, and it was hard to not be belligerent when giving his answers. Eddie was being judged again by his clothes and his hair, and the world just fucking sucks as far as Steve’s concerned.
Just because Steve’s wearing a polo shirt and his name matches the registration on the BMW, he doesn’t think it should mean his word is any more trustworthy than Eddie’s. Have these cops never been around any rich kids? Rich kids fucking suck a lot of the time, he knows that from personal experience.
He looks back at Eddie, but he’s still just facing forward, refusing to look in Steve’s direction.
Steve’s door opens and he’s pulled back outside, and he just wants this to be over with.
They uncuff him and give him a field sobriety test, and then a breathalyzer, on a huge box thing he’s never seen before, after they determined he’s the driver, even though Eddie had the keys. Steve passes. It’s not zero, but he’s well under the legal limit, if he were, well, legal to drink. He’s not, but he’s pretty sure they’re just ignoring the fact that they are underage, which he appreciates. One good thing about these good ol’ boy cops, he guesses. He feels like they are dealing with Roscoe P. Coltrane levels of bumbling idiocy, so he’s just waiting for this town's version of Boss Hogg to show up.
He noticed that the other guys, the fucking instigators, were let go a long time ago. Locals, he’s sure. Locals who know somebody who knows somebody, just how it always is in small towns.
They have Eddie out of the car too now, and have him shoved roughly against the trunk of the cruiser, patting him down, again. Like he somehow gathered up some new contraband while cuffed in the cop car. Eddie’s just taking it, not struggling, not doing anything he isn’t asked to do, just laying limp against the car, and Steve can’t even describe how he feels about that. Eddie shouldn’t be docile like this, it doesn’t feel right.
One of them shoves Eddie’s already banged up face roughly into the metal of the trunk and Steve makes a noise, involuntarily.
“You got a problem?” One of them asks Steve and fuck yes, he’s got a goddamn problem, but he just shakes his head no.
“Didn’t think so,” he says, but finally lets Eddie up and starts uncuffing him.
Steve waits for Eddie to get in front of him, and then steps between Eddie and the cops, so he can follow right behind Eddie as they head back to the car.
i pulled into nazareth,
was feeling 'bout half past dead
The Weight, The Band
Eddie
By a small miracle, the small town Sheriff lets them go without any charges, not even a ticket. He checked Eddie's ID to see if he was from where he said he was from, and probably to match it to Steve’s ID just to see if they were from the same town, like Eddie had said they were. He asked a couple questions that Eddie hoped Steve answered in a similar way. We went to high school together. It wasn’t a lie, they had, even if they hadn’t been anything close to running in the same circles. Steve must have answered similarly, and eventually the cop uncuffs them and sends them on their way.
It’s hard to look at Steve, seeing how hurt he is, all because he tried to help him. It makes Eddie feel gut-twistingly guilty.
They leave town, Eddie reading the map by flashlight.
"Can I have a smoke?" Steve asks.
Eddie nods, digs in his pocket, pulls the pack out. They are a little crumpled, but he shakes one out and lights it for Steve. Hands it over.
Steve cracks the window, takes a long, deep drag, blows it out. Then another. Then he hands the cigarette back to Eddie. They pass it back and forth until it's burned down to the butt.
Eddie puts it in the pristine ashtray.
They make it several miles down the highway, to the next decent sized town, Springerville, before stopping at a chain motel to regroup.
Eddie marks smoking off his list before they get out of the car.
It doesn't bring him any of the joy that breaking Steve's rules usually does.
Steve is moving stiffly, and Eddie is pretty sure he looks at least a little better than Steve does, so he goes and gets them the room this time. He has Steve wait for him outside on a bench.
When they get inside, Eddie takes inventory of their immediate problems. Steve's jeans are torn, there's gravel and glass stuck in his knees, his forearms, in his palms, too. He has a cut on his arm that needs attention. Eddie gets him to go take a quick shower, and then gets him to sit on the edge of the bed. Eddie takes off his rings so he doesn’t make any of the damage worse, kneels in front of him and uses the tweezers from Steve's shaving bag to pick out any of the remaining debris. Cleaning the wounds up as best he can.
Even after his shower, Steve is quiet, head down, cowed. Eddie doesn't like it. Eddie doesn't know what to say, though. Sorry, I'm a queer and got you beaten up and nearly arrested. Sorry, I'm always gonna be trailer trash. Sorry, I'm so fucking cursed.
"What happened out there, man?" Steve finally asks.
"They just didn't like the way I looked, shit, it happens sometimes," Eddie says, shrugging. He knows he didn't do anything, other than be unapologetically who he is. He definitely wasn't flirting with those hillbillies, but sometimes men like that think his steps are a little too bouncy, or his hand gestures are a little to feminine. And sometimes that makes those insecure men retaliate against him for holding a mirror up to their own hidden shames.
Eddie isn’t embarrassed to be who he is, but he is grief-stricken that Steve’s paying the price for it.
Eddie holds a towel of ice to Steve's face. Steve is holding another towel to his bleeding arm. They'll have to pay for the towels, they're definitely ruining them.
One of the guys must have cut Steve with something, his arm wound is not the same as the rest of the road rash. It makes Eddie sick, thinking he could have been the one to do that, or worse, to Steve in that boathouse when he was just trying to help him. Steve is always trying to help him, he’s realized, and Eddie has to swallow the lump in his throat.
"I think you might need some stitches," one end of the cut is definitely deeper than the other.
Steve shrugs it off, "Just butterfly it, man."
Eddie digs through the first aid kit that lives in Steve's trunk, and finds a couple small butterfly bandages that might work and grabs the antiseptic. He'll have to get it to stop bleeding first.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks, finally looking at him. "Did they hurt you?" He cups Eddie's cheek gently, where the start of a bruise is forming.
Eddie resists leaning into his hand, but it's a lot, the way Steve's looking down at him, holding eye contact the way he is. Eddie thinks his wires are crossed tonight, because his brain is reading it as the tender way you might look at someone before you kiss them, which definitely isn't what's happening here. Steve's just worried about him. Steve's always worried about everyone else and not himself. Eddie breaks the eye contact and looks away.
"I'm okay." His ribs are going to be a little bruised, and he took a hell of a wallop to the mouth, so his teeth and jaw ache. But his teeth are still in his head. So overall, he's okay.
Steve nods, pulls his hand back, looks down again, "Good, good."
"You're a good friend, Harrington."
And Eddie means that. This is the first time Eddie has really believed he's Steve Harrington's friend, and not just a mostly unwanted nuisance always fucking up Steve's day. Sometimes on purpose, but a lot of the time, unintentionally, like tonight.
You don’t throw yourself into that kind of fray for nothing. Not even Steve Harrington is that foolish.
Steve may not win every fight he starts, but he's a force to be reckoned with when he feels any of his people are being threatened, that's for damn sure. Eddie thinks he's now one of Steve's people. It's been a shitty fucking night, but that was a nice surprise.
Eddie finally sees Steve smile a little before saying, "Still want me to handcuff you if I start working for Hopper?"
"Nah, I'm good, it's out of my system," Eddie says, laughing, glad things seem like they'll be okay.
Steve is sore in the morning, hobbling around the room like he's an old man. Eddie is worried and the front desk says there's a drugstore right down the block. So he runs out and buys some supplies to replenish the first aid kit, and also gets some epsom salt, and comes back and draws Steve a warm bath. He can’t replicate the bathhouse experience, but he thought Steve might still enjoy it anyway.
Eddie adds the bubble bath he bought, making Steve laugh when Eddie repeats his same reasoning from the spring, "For your modesty, dude."
Eddie helps Steve lower himself into it, trying to look anywhere but down. It's not difficult, this is not a sexy situation. Steve could have been hurt even worse than he was, or fucking killed in that alley. Eddie thinks that they may have gotten off lucky, if this is the worst of it. He’s still not convinced this is the worst of it.
Once Steve is seated, Eddie closes the toilet seat and sits down on it, right next to the tub.
“You gonna scrub my back?” Steve asks, smiling. “Give me a massage?”
“I haven’t had the proper training yet. They’ve only just trusted me with the bubble bath.”
That makes Steve laugh, which makes Eddie smile. But he is worried about Steve.
"Are you sure you're okay? Have you had a tetanus shot lately? The stiffness, how fast can that set in with tetanus?" Eddie is spiraling, picturing the worst case scenario.
Steve kind of laughs.
"Eddie," he reaches out, touches Eddie's arm, leaving a trail of bubbles there. "I'm good. I don't have tetanus. I got my ass kicked. I'm just sore."
Eddie nods, forced to believe him.
Steve continues, "I just don't understand why it's so bad. I've fought monsters and this has never happened," Steve says, laying his head back against the wall of the tub.
Eddie grabs a towel from the rack, rolling it up, putting it behind Steve's head.
"Shit, are you actually injured? Maybe we should get you looked at, x-rayed or something. Just to be sure you don't have internal bleeding. You’ve taken a lot of blows to the head, Harrington. That cannot be good on a man."
"Believe me, I've had worse. I just feel sore, like my muscles are sore, like I've run a marathon with no training. The only time I've ever felt near this way was the day after the mall fight. I think that was from the car wreck, though. Or maybe the torture."
Eddie isn't sure what he's talking about, hopes he doesn't actually have a head injury.
"What?"
Steve waves him off, "Upside Down shit, last year," like that's enough of an explanation.
Eddie lets him get by with it, finally says, "Let's stay a few days, see if you get better or worse."
Eddie is pretty sure Steve's sore from the awkward crouch they'd forced him into. It looked like a painful and unnatural position to be held in, even without getting the shit beat out of you at the same time.
Steve nods, looking embarrassed.
"Hey," Eddie says, "you saved my ass. Thank you."
Steve just waves him off.
"And I'm sorry I fucked up your hookup. You were so in there," Eddie says, glancing away.
"It's fine, I didn't need to be thinking with my dick anyway."
"But-"
"Seriously, Eddie. It's the absolute last thing I was worried about last night."
Eddie nods.
Steve changes the subject, "Where'd you learn to dance like that? I was seriously impressed."
"My mom. I didn't know if I could still do it, it's been almost a decade, and I was just a kid, but I guess you don’t forget. My mom and dad could really fucking dance, man. Like, seriously dance together, at least when my old man was around. It’s one of my most vivid childhood memories of them, together.”
Steve wonders if his parents can dance, he has no idea. He can't even imagine them having fun with each other.
"When I'm not hobbled, you should show me. But be warned, I have two left feet."
"It's easy," Eddie tells him, "the girl does most of the work, the guy is just the anchor."
“I cannot believe you can dance like that, you’re a metalhead,” Steve laughs, “your street cred would take a major nosedive, Munson.”
“And if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you,” Eddie teases, giving him a smile.
He wasn't even thinking when he did it, that he was sharing something deeply personal with Steve. He is usually more careful not to give anything away, but he's getting comfortable with Steve Harrington.
He's not mad about that, he supposes.
Steve is standing in front of him in his underwear. Eddie swallows. They are bright blue today, and still trimmed in white, which is still just dragging the eye down and framing where Eddie has no business looking.
If Steve notices his wandering eyes, he doesn't mention it, thank fucking hell.
Eddie hands over the tube of Bengay, thinking the jokes write themselves.
"That burned the cuts on my hands this morning, can you?"
Eddie wants to melt into the floor and die, but he just nods. Asks him where he needs it. So Eddie rubs it into Steve's thighs, his back, his shoulders. The fumes burn his eyes, but Eddie is absolutely clinical about it. Refuses to let himself be anything but.
The scars on Steve's back from being dragged across the lake bed are textured under his fingers. Eddie really hates that it happened to him. But is so thankful Nancy was brave enough to lead the rest of them down to help. He’s pretty sure they didn’t have any time to spare, and it scares him that they could have dithered in that boat too long. Been too late to help him.
Eddie knows he wouldn't have been brave enough to do it on his own without the girls going first.
He'd do it for Steve now. In a heartbeat. He thinks he'd be the first one in the water, if it happened today.
When he's done he gives Steve three Motrin and a glass bottle of Gatorade, makes him lie down on the bed. Eddie reads to him from the newspaper he’d picked up and tells him the Mets won the World Series last night in game seven. When Steve starts looking ready to doze off, Eddie stops talking and sits quietly at the table, doing the crossword. Steve falls asleep fairly quickly. Eddie stays as quiet as he can.
A couple hours later, Eddie goes to the front desk to ask what food options are nearby. This place isn’t nice enough to have room service, but surely they know what is available in town. Among the options, there's a Kentucky Fried Chicken three blocks away, and Eddie knows Steve likes that, so he walks over there and gets them a bucket of chicken.
Steve
Steve wakes up and Eddie is gone. There's a note saying he went to get them something to eat on the nightstand.
Steve picks up the room phone and calls Robin.
"Where are you guys?" Robin asks.
"Deliverance, I think," Steve says, dryly.
"Uh, are you guys okay?"
"Yeah. I got the shit beat out of me in a bar fight, but I'm okay," he really is sore as shit, he feels a little embarrassed.
"What happened?" she asks and he knows she is worried. They never seem to call her with happy news. Only when things really go south. He needs to change that.
"They were just being assholes," Steve doesn't really want to get into it. He doesn't know why he called to tell her, it just felt like something he needed to do.
"Steve," she says, low and concerned, "what happened?"
"They had Eddie cornered in the alley outside the bar and when I found him like that, I lost my shit. They handed me my ass, pretty quickly."
"Is Eddie okay?"
"He's good. I drew most of the attention to me. It could have been a lot worse."
"You're crazy, but I'm sure Eddie appreciated the distraction."
"Eh," he says, "I got us arrested. They let us go, but still. I made the situation so much worse. I just lost my goddamn mind, because Eddie doesn't need any more bullshit. And that was some bullshit."
"You just wanted to protect him, it's what you do."
"He's a grown man, he didn't need me to think I could ride in on some white horse," Steve says, scrubbing his hand over his face. "All I did was embarrass myself."
"Are you sure you're okay? I'm worried. Are you coming home now?"
"I'm a little scraped up, and I'm fucking sore, but I'm okay, Rob. I promise."
"Are you coming home now?" she repeats.
"Not unless Eddie wants to," Steve isn't ready to go home and doesn't want to end their trip on this shitty note.
"Do you know what started it?" Robin asks, "Did Eddie provoke them?"
"Not that I saw. But I wasn't paying attention to him, I was flirting with a girl," and he's ashamed of himself for that. "I fucked up. We wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't thinking with my dick, like always. Eddie wasn't clamoring to chase tail, but we stopped because he thought that's what I needed," he stops talking just long enough to take a breath. "I should have gone outside with him. I think they thought he was gay. They called me his boyfriend when I showed up. So, hillbilly bigots being hillbilly bigots. Apparently I have a type when provoking people to kick my ass."
Robin's quiet for a moment, "I'm sorry," she finally says.
“Do you think Eddie’s gay?” Steve finally asks, picking at the cheap polyester comforter.
“I think that’s a question for Eddie, don’t you think?” Robin answers softly, and it’s not a no.
“I can’t just ask him that, Robin.”
“Would it matter if he was?” Robin counters.
And Steve wants to say yes, but he knows that would come out all wrong, and he isn't about to pull at that thread, anyway, “No, it wouldn’t matter. We’re friends.”
“Okay, then.”
Steve lets it go, but it didn’t really help. If she’d said no, he’d have been able to pretend the energy he sometimes feels between Eddie and him isn’t that kind of electricity. Isn't sexual. That Eddie hadn't looked at his dick this morning while he was standing in front of Eddie in his underwear. Maybe Eddie hadn't, and Steve is the one making it into something it's not.
Or maybe he did look, but it wasn’t a sexual look, maybe it was just a curious look. Eddie is curious about everything, and Steve is well aware that his dick is a shower more than a grower, so he’s gotten the looks before, even from people not at all interested in him. So maybe that’s all it was this morning, a general curiosity at what he's packing. It can be a little in your face, he knows that, and he doesn't mind if Eddie was looking.
Steve presses his knuckles into his eye, but that hurts, so he has to pull his hand away from his face. He doesn't know what the fuck is happening to him that he even cares if another man was just looking or if he was looking at his junk.
So he just pushes it down and starts talking again.
"We're fine. I swear. Though Eddie thinks I have tetanus. You with the rabies and him with the tetanus, you’re both always trying to give me incurable diseases.”
Steve realizes his mistake when she gasps, “Why do you have tetanus? That’s serious, Steve, you need to go to the hospital right now!”
“I don’t have tetanus! Goddamn, you two are a match made in hell. Are you sure you don’t like boys? Because I have one to set you up with, if you decide you do,” he snarks, "you two could make the biggest chatterbox of a kid to ever live."
“Pass. Not really my type,” she says, slightly calmer, then changes the subject. "I got your picture, and I do have one question," she adds.
Steve laughs, "Okay?"
"Are you growing a mustache?"
"Yes!" he says, excited that she noticed.
He deflates immediately when she says, "Ew, no, gross."
"You sound like Eddie," he says sullenly and as if he'd been waiting for his cue, Eddie comes in the door.
When Robin hears him, she wants to talk to him. Steve is certain the first thing she asks is about the non-existent tetanus. Then the quote-unquote "ugly mustache" Steve's growing. Then they just talk for a few minutes. They both have the gift of gab.
"Yeah, you know how it is," Eddie says to whatever she's said. Steve can't hear Robin's side, but he hears Eddie assure her that he's okay, that they're both okay.
They finally get her convinced that they're fine and promise they'll call again soon. Preferably without a major problem.
After they eat, Eddie pulls out a deck of cards he bought. They play a couple of hands, just to help pass the time.
Steve is getting around better the next day, and nearly back to normal the day after that. So they finally get back on the road. Eddie gives him directions up US-191 and they head north.
Notes:
This was always written to be two parts, but I realized it was only two parts because I had two chapter title/lyrics I was set on using, and decided that was a stupid reason to split them. I just added the second set where the chapter break originally was. I'm treating it like a two-part TV episode, where each episode has a different title, but they aired together. I guess I can do that. I suppose I'm making the rules here, lol. ;)
Fun fact: Way early on, there was a whole chapter titled You Don't Mess Around With Jim for Steve's call with Hopper. But this is where it fit in the story and it didn't need to be two chapters, let alone three, haha.
Photo credits: Phone booth from Issac Wedin on Flickr. The bar is from Outer Range. The beat up hands is from Hannibal.
Chapter 11: Viva Las Vegas
Notes:
Thanks so much for the comments and support! I'm thrilled readers are letting me know they still finding this story! We've passed the halfway mark, now! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
i'm gonna keep on the run,
i'm gonna have me some fun
Viva Las Vegas, Elvis
Eddie
Because their luck is terrible lately, they get a flat tire in New Mexico on US-60 between Omega and Pie Town. Steve is flustered. He has a spare and it seems to have air, but Eddie thinks he looks like he suddenly can't remember anything he learned in Driver's Ed. He knows Steve took it, they took it at the exact same time. Steve probably doesn't remember that, though.
Eddie had sat in the back, head down. Uncle Wayne had already taught him everything he needed to know by then already. He was just there to get the insurance rate break.
Maybe Steve is just reluctant to get down on the ground, afraid he’s still too sore to get back up again. It doesn’t really matter why, Eddie guesses, he can do this.
"Hey, let me, man," Eddie says, taking the jack from Steve's grasp.
Eddie takes off his jacket, and tosses it at Steve, much like he did in the Upside Down. He's only a little regretful that Steve doesn't put it on this time.
It took a lot longer than he anticipated, but he got the tire swapped out. The lug nuts did not want to come off, so it was a bitch. He tried to use his foot for leverage, and that still wasn't enough, so he ended up bouncing on the tire iron using his full body weight to finally get them jarred loose. Steve held him steady by the hips so he could jump on it without falling off, and with his help they were able to get them all off. They'll need to get this one fixed before they continue too much further, but it doesn't seem ruined.
Sweaty and thirsty, Eddie slumps into the passenger seat, fumbling around on the floorboard for his canteen of water.
He belatedly realizes he's getting dust all over the pristine cream-colored leather upholstery of the car, "Oh fuck, I'm dirty, sorry," he says, hopping back out, brushing off the seat.
Steve is standing there, and he takes Eddie by the shoulders, pushing him back down into the seat, "It's fine. You just saved our asses. The seat will wipe down, don't worry about it, please."
Steve takes the pen out of the glove box and marks no dirt off the list. It's the first time he's marked anything off, and Eddie smiles.
Steve
Eddie finds a tire repair shop and they sit in the small, dirty waiting area while the tire is fixed. Steve has them change the oil while they are fixing and replacing the tire.
Steve keeps digging in his pocket, giving Eddie quarters so he can buy peanut M&Ms out of the dirty quarter candy machine. The amount of greasy fingerprints on it is enough to deter Steve from wanting any when Eddie holds out his hand to offer to share.
When they get back in the car, there’s a grease smudge on the seat, Eddie immediately shouts, “That wasn’t me!”
And Steve laughs. He knows it wasn’t. He finds a fast food napkin and wipes it up the best he can. Eddie has him stop at a grocery store and comes back with a bottle of vinegar and some water to mix it with and cleans it up.
“How’d you know how to do that?”
“I wear a lot of leather, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Steve laughs, that is true. He’s definitely noticed.
“Turn here,” Eddie says, pointing to the right side of the road.
There’s nothing here, so Steve is confused, “Here?”
“Here,” Eddie confirms.
They drive down the most desolate highway, and Steve is leery, “Uh, are you sure we’re headed in the right direction? This feels wrong.”
“I’m sure. Well, I’m ninety-five percent sure,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve.
It’s only about five minutes before Steve sees what Eddie has led them to, “What the fuck is this?”
“Telescopes!” Eddie says with delight.
This is more alien than Roswell ever dreamed of being, Steve is pretty sure.
“How did you know this was here?”
“The guy in the tire shop told me when I asked if there was anything to see nearby.”
Steve hadn’t even noticed Eddie grilling anyone in the tire shop, that’s how commonplace it was now, it wasn’t even worth paying any attention when he was talking to strangers.
It looks like they are about to enter a decent sized town, for the first time in quite a while.
“I’m hungry,” Steve tells Eddie, “start looking for an exit sign that has food.”
A few miles later, Eddie directs him to a McDonald's right off I-25. They are in the drive thru and Steve is trying to order, but Eddie crawls completely over into his lap to get close enough to yell out of the window towards the speaker, “We want two Happy Meals, too, please! McNuggets! Sweet and Sour!” Eddie shouts, and Steve is confused, but more worried about keeping Eddie’s pointy knee off his nuts.
“What the fuck for?” Steve hisses, “And you’re about to rack me, stop it!” He struggles to wrangle Eddie back into his own seat.
When they pull up at the second window and Steve sees the two pumpkin pails being handed to him, he rolls his eyes.
“Happy Halloween, man!” Eddie says, popping the lid off his pumpkin.
“What are you going to do with those?”
“I don’t know, something cool,” Eddie says, digging around in his bucket, “we could go trick-or-treating.”
“I’ve already had my ass kicked once this week, I’m not eager for an encore for being a creepy grown man with a faded black eye lurking around children,” Steve says, and Eddie couldn't have forgotten, neither one of them are totally healed up yet.
“Fair enough,” Eddie admits with a laugh.
“How did you even know they had pumpkin buckets?” Steve asks, stuffing several french fries into his mouth.
“There was a sign on the menu board,” Eddie says, peeling back the lid of his sweet and sour sauce, licking the foil wrapper.
“Who reads the menu at a McDonald’s? They all have the exact same thing!”
Eddie shrugs. Apparently he’s the person that the marketing department is playing to when they bring out all these new items. Steve is ignoring his bucket, opening the styrofoam container that holds his adult Big Mac, thanks.
Eddie is on all fours, ass in the air, legs spread, both hands on the concrete, "I'm in four states right now!" he shouts, "Take a picture!"
They are at the Four Corners Monument and Eddie is currently in Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah at the same time. Steve is solidly in Colorado.
Steve gets him to look up and he snaps a couple pictures. Eddie pushes himself up on his hands unexpectedly, walks a few steps on them while Steve laughs and takes pictures. He had no idea Eddie could do a walking handstand. He's impressed.
That’s the general theme of the trip, Steve figures. Him being impressed by what Eddie knows or can do. He’s not sure what’s been in it for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have any hidden depths, as far as he can tell. What you see is what you get, and sometimes what you get is a grumpy asshole. Eddie has to be frustrated, or at the very least, bored.
When it's Steve's turn, he just lays down and spreads all his limbs out like he's making a snow angel. Eddie laughs as he takes pictures.
There aren’t very many motel options out here in the desert and Steve is getting concerned that they might have to drive all night or freeze in the tent again, when they finally spot a place along the road. It’s little and run-down, but they’ve traveled five hundred miles today and he’s fucking tired.
The next morning Eddie pulls him out of bed and directs them towards the Petrified Forest National Park.
On the way there, he sees a sign for Route 666 and demands that Steve detour back to the east so he can take a picture by the highway sign. Steve does, and Eddie gives him devil horns and it makes Steve laugh so much he has to have him repeat it, because he’s scared he was shaking the camera so much it was probably blurry the first time.
When they get back in the car, Eddie looks at the atlas again.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says, shoving his finger into the map and thrusting it towards Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, trying to follow his train of thought.
“That,” he says, pointing at the map, “is where we got our asses kicked.”
He runs his finger directly south, maybe an hour, and it’s the same highway, they’ve just looped around, “US-191 turns into US-666, apparently. Which, accurate. Devil’s Highway, for sure.”
Eddie is studying the map, it’s marked as US-666. But they definitely went up US-191. He knows they did. He doesn’t know how he missed it on the map that night, but figures he was just looking at the highway signs on the road, with all the stress they were under.
“Oh. OH! This atlas is from 1983. They finally finished decommissioning Route 66 last year. Shit, I’d bet anything they renamed part of it.”
“Well, that’s just bad luck for us. Maybe we’d have been smart enough to not stop if we knew we were on US-666,” Steve offers.
“Oh, you know me, it would have made me twice as likely to pick the place. But still. Highway to Hell.”
“I think I have that tape,” Steve offers and Eddie digs through the shoebox of tapes.
“I don’t see it,” he says, and Steve shrugs. Maybe he didn’t pack it after all.
When they reach the Petrified Forest National Park, they take Exit 311 and Eddie hops out at the Painted Desert Visitor Center and studies the map of the park he picked up, committing it to memory. He gives Steve directions and they are able to drive through the entire park without backtracking. They’ve really stumbled onto a good system together, it turns out that Eddie is an excellent navigator and Steve is able to follow his directions without any issues.
Eddie puts on Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs by Marty Robbins that Steve had picked out in his set of weird cassettes.
“Seriously?”
“It feels right,” Eddie says, like that’s an actual answer.
The old country music does kind of match the desert scenery, but Steve would never tell Eddie that.
Eddie has Steve pull into the Painted Desert Inn and they listen to a park ranger tell them all about the structure that was built entirely of petrified wood in the 1920s. Eddie asks questions and Steve listens to what Eddie is interested in learning more about.
The National Park is different from anything else they’ve seen before. The landscape is so alien looking, but beautiful. The rock formations, the fossils, the petrified wood. It’s pretty amazing and Steve’s glad Eddie spotted it on the map.
"Well, I'm standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona," Eddie says, with a big grin.
"Such a fine sight to see," Steve replies, finishing the lyrics, looking at Eddie as his hair is blowing in the wind a little. Steve thinks he looks cool. He hopes the pictures are good. He thinks they will be. He's sure Eddie will like them.
They find a place to develop them, and the last couple rolls they hadn’t made time to develop yet, while they get a motel room and something to eat.
Steve is tired. They got up way too early, because Eddie wanted sufficient time to see the Grand Canyon, so Steve’s tired before they’ve even really got going for the day. It feels like it’s already been a long haul across the old Route 66 between Winslow, AZ and the Grand Canyon. Miles of boring desert interstate driving have made him sleepy. Stopping for breakfast compounded the situation, now he's full and ready for a nap. When they leave the gas station, Eddie is carrying a bag full of snacks, and despite the fact that they’ve just eaten, he already has a Slim Jim hanging out of his mouth. Steve makes a decision.
"Heads up," he says, tossing the keys in Eddie's direction. Eddie catches them.
"Seriously?" Eddie says around a bite of processed meat stick.
Steve shrugs. He thinks he might be able to get an hour of sleep before they reach the Grand Canyon and figures that might be just enough to do wonders.
When they settle in, Steve reaches over and touches Eddie's thigh, "You do have a real driver's license, right?"
"Yeah, 'course I do. You need to see it, officer?"
Steve laughs and shakes his head. He reclines his seat, "Wake me when we get closer to the Grand Canyon and I'll help navigate."
Eddie agrees, turning the radio down much lower than it had been. Steve thinks that was sweet of him as he drifts to sleep to the steady hum of the tires rumbling against asphalt.
Eddie
Steve is sound asleep, mouth hanging open. It’s hilarious. Eddie was a little sad to mark driving the car off, because that was probably the end of the list. It only left fucking and ass and both seem less than likely to get marked off. He probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to find someone to fuck in the backseat while Steve, did what? Sat on the trunk? Yeah, no thanks. And finding some way to pay Steve for his ride with sex, even more unlikely. Sure, there was the hooker joke, but that seemed a little far fetched. And Steve’s kinda uptight, so probably not gonna fly, anyway.
Steve
The Grand Canyon is more vast than Steve could have even imagined. He doesn't want to get too close to the edge, it makes him feel weird. He didn’t like walking the narrow trail, and he doesn’t like that it’s just so vastly open.
"It makes me feel weird," he says out loud to Eddie.
"Weird?"
"Like I should jump," Steve says, "I'm not going to, but-"
"Call of the void," Eddie tells him, "it's normal. Don't, like, act on it. But the feeling is normal," he assures.
"Like thinking you should swerve into oncoming traffic?"
"Yes. As a side note? Let's not do that either," Eddie teases.
Eddie
When they get in their room just outside of the Grand Canyon, Eddie finally flips through the pictures they had developed in Winslow. There's one of Steve sitting in the driver's seat of the car, and when he shuffles to the next one, it is one that was clearly taken seconds later. This time Steve was looking at him. And while Eddie is sure it was a look of annoyance at the time, it somehow translated into a fucking smolder that had been pointed in his direction when captured on film. And now Eddie feels things about it. Even with the stupid fucking mustache. Maybe partly because of the stupid mustache.
He can’t look at it anymore, shoves it to the back of the stack. He sure as shit didn’t remember getting eyefucked, but there’s the proof, so.
When Steve looks at them, he doesn’t even seem to notice it as out of the ordinary, just flips on past it, like it’s any other picture.
It’s not any other picture. It’s not.
Eddie is sure he must be losing his mind, seeing things he wants to see and he's mad at himself for it. He knows better.
Steve
Because their string of bad luck continues, Steve locks the keys in the car at a truck stop on Highway 93.
He's panicking.
Eddie looks in the window, "I mean, I might be able to slim jim it open if we had the tool. But your locks are electric and I'm worried I'll fuck up the window seal and it'll leak when it rains."
"I don't care, I'll get the seal replaced. Can we buy a tool somewhere?"
Eddie looks around, there are trucks everywhere, "Let me go see if I can find one to borrow."
He eventually comes back with one and carefully slides it into the car, down the glass. He unlocks it with relative ease.
"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks and Eddie laughs.
"It's genetic. I'm full of criminal tendencies, better check your wallet."
Steve does, makes a big show of doing just that. Acting very relieved that it's still there.
Eddie cracks up and it makes Steve laugh right with him.
Eddie takes the tool back to where he borrowed it from and runs back to find Steve leaning up against the trunk.
"Thanks, man. You're like traveling with my own private mechanic."
"I wouldn't go that far," Eddie says.
Steve had his spare key in his bag in the trunk. Not the best place to keep it, in hindsight. He’d dug it out while Eddie was returning the slim jim. He hands the key over to Eddie, "You hang onto this one, so we don't have to do this again."
Eddie nods and slides the key into his wallet.
“You drive, I don’t think I can be trusted any longer today,” Steve laughs and Eddie nods, taking Steve’s set of keys from where they're dangling on his finger.
Eddie drives them right over the Hoover Dam and Steve is gawking out of the window. It’s kind of nice to be able to actually look at the things they’re driving by.
“Do you want to stop and look around?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods.
There’s quite a bit of traffic and Steve helps guide Eddie into a parking lot.
Eddie realizes they give tours, and Steve doesn’t even try to fight it. Some things are just not worth the battle anymore.
Steve nearly nods off during the video presentation outlining the construction of the dam, but Eddie elbows him awake when it’s time to continue the tour.
They grab something to eat at the Hoover Dam Snacketeria, which Eddie loves the name of so much he takes a picture while they head back to the car.
“Where are my tapes? All these are yours!” Steve says, digging through the shoebox of cassettes that has been living at Eddie’s feet.
“Black Sabbath, Metallica, Motorhead,” he says, holding up a tape, “there’s nothing of mine in here!”
Eddie cackles, “Well, that took you way longer to realize than I’d imagined. I thought I was caught a couple days ago, with the missing AC/DC.”
“Eddie!” Steve yells, digging deeper into the pile. There’s nothing at all of his in here anymore.
“Calm down, they’re in the trunk.”
He hadn't even noticed that Eddie's been fully in control of the stereo.
"How long?"
Eddie looks sheepish, "At least a week."
Steve laughs, but says, "Very funny, but you pull over up there and let me find something good."
Eddie pulls over and as soon as Steve is behind the car, he inches forward, getting the trunk out of Steve’s reach. Steve laughs and steps towards it again. So Eddie gently lets off the brake and does it again.
"Eddie!" Steve yells, but he's giggling.
Eddie puts it in park and turns the driver's seat and shows Steve his hands through the back glass, the classic sign of surrender.
He doesn’t even complain when Steve puts on Lionel Richie.
needed a friend
and the way i feel now
i guess i'll be with you 'til the end
Eddie
“Hey, there’s another Henderson!” Eddie says with delight, he’d seen the road sign while driving them into Las Vegas. They set the camera on the hood and set the timer, running to both get in the picture. They take a couple and hope that something turns out.
In the end they do get a good one, but still end up sending Dustin the one that caught the backs of both of them running towards the sign. Eddie in his leather jacket, Steve in his denim one, the one that is gaining patches by the mile.
Steve scares the shit out of Eddie, screaming about doughnuts.
“Pull in there!” Steve says, and Eddie follows his harried command. He now sort of understands why Steve might have been easily annoyed with him early on. Nobody likes to be startled by loud noises while driving.
“Why are you in a fucking tizzy, Harrington?”
“The Krispy Kremes are hot, see the light?”
Eddie sees the light. “Okay, and?”
“Have you never had a Krispy Kreme doughnut before?” Steve asks, already starting to barrel out of the car.
“No?” Eddie answers, but he’s pretty sure it was too late and Steve didn’t hear him.
Steve comes back with two giant boxes.
“Shit, how many doughnuts do you plan on eating?”
“You’ll see,” Steve says, handing one of the boxes over to Eddie.
They absolutely do melt in Eddie’s mouth and he eats half a dozen before tapping out.
Steve
Eddie sees a billboard for a Cabaret club that promises full nudity and talks Steve into going. It's off-Strip, but only a couple blocks. The women are very pretty to look at, Steve will freely admit that. But he’s not really a show guy. Eddie is enjoying himself though, he loves a good production, of any kind, Steve's decided.
Sitting at the table, Eddie giggles and shows him the dirty book of free matches he’s picked up.
While they’re there, Eddie finds a burlesque girl patch and puts it right on the front of the jacket when they get to the room, above the breast pocket. He'd been waiting for something perfect, he'd said, and apparently this was it.
Eddie drives them by the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas Sign. It’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere. There doesn’t seem to be a safe way to park or walk to it, so they just drive on by.
Steve lets Eddie pick the hotel, since he was driving, and as soon as they get checked into the Desert Inn, Eddie is dragging him down onto the casino floor to play a little bit before they find something to eat for dinner.
"Are you sure we should be gambling? Our luck is garbage right now."
"We'll turn it around!" Eddie insists.
He's not wrong, they hit the casino, and Eddie wins a couple hundred bucks playing blackjack and Steve has a plastic bucket full of nickels to cash in.
“Goddamn, you want to stand in that line to eat?” Steve asks, looking at the long line for the buffet.
“It’s $2.95! That’s a steal!”
“Okay, okay, whatever you want,” Steve puts up his hands, in surrender. He’ll agree to whatever Eddie wants at this point. If Eddie wants to wait an hour to eat, they can wait an hour to eat. He’s not starving yet.
Steve opens his wallet once they get to the front of the line, and pays for the both of them. After they finally get inside the buffet, Eddie comes back to the table with a plate piled high with food.
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve tells him, but he watches Eddie plough his way through it and go back for more.
They go down to Fremont Street and enjoy all the neon lights. They gamble a little more at the Golden Nugget, but both end up losing. They’re still ahead from earlier, but not by much. At least they got to see the Hand of Faith nugget of gold that’s on display. It’s kind of impressively huge.
Eddie is standing outside, with the neon dancing across his face, smoking a cigarette. He kind of looks like the big neon cowboy smoking a cigarette overhead.
“Hey, it’s you!” Steve laughs, pointing up.
Eddie looks where Steve's looking and laughs. Eddie points at the cowgirl across the street, kicking her leg out, “Then that’s you, I guess.”
Steve winks at him and gives his leg a little kick out.
Eddie
The next morning, Eddie uses his key to get into the car and digs around in the backseat and pulls out the photo album again. He flips to that picture of Steve. It’s just as he remembered it, nothing’s changed overnight. He has a big fucking problem. This isn’t going to end well.
Maybe he should suggest they head home? He doesn’t want to do that, not at all, but he can’t imagine how he’s going to get this wild horse back in the barn. It’s long fucking gone.
He feels like a damn fool.
Steve
Eddie gets drunk on free booze in the casino, right after lunch. He'd been drinking his free drinks and all of Steve's free drinks too, because Steve didn't think drinking all day was going to work out so well for him. So Steve all but has to carry him outside before they get scrutinized too closely. Eddie is totally going to get them nailed for being underage if he keeps this up. They sit for a while, and Eddie eventually sobers up just enough to head back inside and up to their room.
When they get there, Steve puts Eddie down for a nap. Eddie fights him, but eventually falls asleep and Steve rolls him onto his side. Leaves him a note and heads down to the pool. It’s November, but in the middle of the afternoon it is warm enough to at least lay out, even if he doesn’t plan to swim. He thinks he must doze off, because when he wakes up, it’s because someone is blocking his sun.
“Hi,” Eddie says, dragging one of the other lounge chairs over and planting it right next to Steve’s, the metal legs scraping the concrete, noisily. Steve realizes Eddie’s shirtless and wearing a pair of Steve’s small swim trunks, the Op ones with the rainbow colored stripes on the legs that Robin picked out for him last summer, and they look wildly out of place on Eddie.
That's a lot of his bare thigh on display.
There’s no way he’s out in public in them while sober, Steve is goddamn certain.
“Hi. You sober yet?”
“Not really,” Eddie says and pulls his aviator sunglasses down over his eyes, and toes off his Reeboks. He lays down and almost immediately goes back to sleep.
Steve lets him sleep, and tries to keep his eyes from roaming over all his tattoos that Steve has so rarely seen. Or over the scars that match his own. He's thinner than Steve realized, when he's not covered by all those layers of clothes he usually wears. Steve sees for the first time that Eddie nearly lost his left nipple to the bats. It doesn’t look all there, and like it was maybe sewn somewhat crudely back in place. He wonders just how bad that hurt, or if Eddie could even tell a difference between that pain and the pain of all the other bites.
If anyone looks at them lounging together, he wonders what they must think. It’s one thing for one guy to have gnarly scars. But two of them, with matching ones? Gotta be weird looking. Steve doesn't care what people think. They survived. A few scars, that's nothing. If people can't look past them, then they can fuck right off, as far as he's concerned.
When Eddie wakes up again, he has mostly sobered up and looks down at himself, “What the fuck am I wearing, Harrington?”
“That was all you, Munson,” Steve replies, laughing. He has had fun picturing Eddie rummaging through Steve's luggage and deciding that these were the best option available.
Eddie shakes his head, but he laughs, "I've never been this undressed in public."
"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, I guess," Steve laughs, "unless I took pictures. Which maybe I did, maybe I didn't."
"Harrington!"
"Do you see a camera on me?" Steve asks, twirling around. "I guess the mental image will have to sustain me."
"Aren't you just hilarious," Eddie says snarkily, grabbing a towel from the stack and draping it over his shoulders and back, to help cover himself up.
They walk back up to the room, to get cleaned up and changed into more appropriate clothing for the evening.
"Not as good as Keens, but good," Steve says, pushing his plate away. He’d eaten as much of his prime rib as he could. Eddie barely touched his plate. It was a stilted meal, probably the most uncomfortable one, all trip. Something has gone south today, and Steve doesn’t know what or why.
Eddie had more drinks with dinner and Steve is struggling to catch up. Now, Eddie is sitting across from him, chain smoking.
When they get outside, Steve catches his arm, “You okay?”
Eddie nods, but doesn’t really look at Steve.
Steve’s concerned. Eddie is very clearly struggling today, and he doesn't know why.
“You want to call it a night, or?”
“Or, definitely, or,” Eddie says, taking off down the strip, leading the way. To where, Steve isn’t sure. Somewhere with alcohol, Steve’s certain.
They sit at a round booth in one of the bars, and Steve is sipping on his drink. Eddie’s chomping on ice from his glass, waiting on his next one to arrive.
“Did I...did I do something stupid today?” Steve asks, trying to catch Eddie’s eye, “I’m sorry if I did.”
Eddie answers, not meeting his eyes, “You didn’t do anything, Harrington. This is on me.”
“What’s on you?” Steve asks, scooting around the circle booth, getting closer.
But Eddie scoots away, so Steve also scoots back in the direction he came from. He feels so fucking wrong footed, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course I’m going to worry about it,” Steve says, and Eddie finally meets his eyes.
“I’m fine, I’m just in a mood.”
“You’re never in a mood, that’s my thing,” Steve answers, and Eddie smiles.
“Yeah, that’s definitely your thing,” and he laughs.
Hearing Eddie laugh, calms a little of the fear gnawing at Steve’s gut.
“Can I do anything to fix it?” Steve asks.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and then disappears. Steve’s confused, but just waits until Eddie comes back with a round waitress tray, eight shot glasses of tequila on it, a salt shaker and a handful of lime wedges.
“Oh, fuck that,” Steve laughs, but Eddie hands him his first one.
It’s a bad idea, but he licks his hand, lets Eddie shake on the salt, then licks the salt, slams it back, and sucks the lime.
Eddie cackles at his pinched face, and it’s like a switch was flipped, and Eddie is back.
After they leave the bar, Eddie tries to take off down the Strip in the wrong direction, but Steve steers him north instead of south. They run down the Strip together in the middle of the night, the neon lights shining all around them. Heading back towards the Desert Inn, both a little drunk. The weird mood had thankfully dissipated. When they stop to wait for traffic, Steve grabs Eddie by the shoulders, pulls him closer. Looks him right in the eyes.
"I'm having so much fun with you, let's never go home."
Eddie laughs, "Okay, Harrington, I'll run away with you."
The light changes and they both take off running again, laughing.
Notes:
And now we all know why Steve had to grow a mustache, it all started so I could use these pictures, haha.
Route 666 was completely renamed in 2003.
If you’re familiar with current Vegas, the Desert Inn sat where the Wynn and the Encore are now. I like to think Eddie just drove until they were just about out of Strip and that’s how he picked the hotel. Rookie mistake. Stay closer to center Strip, boys!
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas wasn't their slogan until 2003. Steve was just ahead of the times. ;)
The Vintage Las Vegas tumblr was a goldmine. I wanted to use so many! This chapter was so picture heavy already, so there were so many I had to leave out. Check it out if you're into vintage photos!
Photo credits: Very Large Array was from The Daily Star. Old school 80's McDonald's from Click America. Boo Buckets (yes 1986 was the first year!) from Dread Central, Four Corners from Breaking Bad. Route 666 from Pinterest. Marty Robbins from Discogs. Teepees from Google Maps. Joe is from the L'OFFICIEL HOMMES photoshoot. The box of tapes is from Supernatural. Vegas is from the aforementioned Vintage Las Vegas tumblr.
Chapter 12: Hooked on a Feeling
Notes:
Thanks so much everyone! All the comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, etc - they all make my day! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
i can't stop this feeling,
deep inside of me
Hooked on a Feeling, Blue Swede
Steve
“Goddamn it, Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie cusses and it’s enough to get Steve’s full attention.
“What? What’s wrong?” Steve asks around a mouthful of candy.
“I think I just broke my fucking tooth,” Eddie says, holding his cheek.
“Let me look,” Steve says, taking him over to the mirror. It’s too dark to see shit in this bathroom. He needs a flashlight.
He tells Eddie as much and runs out to the car to dig around in the car for the flashlight he knows they have. He’s still pretty drunk and he’s having trouble finding it. He finally locates it on Eddie’s floorboard, probably still there from when they were hauling ass away from that bar.
When Steve gets back in the room, he tries to get a good look. It’s the drunk leading the drunker and it’s harder than he’d anticipated to get a good look inside someone else's mouth.
"You’re poking at it, get your tongue out of the way!"
And Eddie finally does, so Steve can get a decent look.
“Well?” Eddie tries to ask, at least that was Steve’s interpretation of what he tried to say, anyway, with his mouth held open.
“I think it might be cracked, but it’s still all there. I think, anyway,” Steve tells him, then adds, “we’ll find a dentist in the morning.”
Eddie cracking a tooth in Vegas is going to sound like a wilder story than it is, Steve is pretty damn sure. Steve thinks it must have been damaged in the fight after all, Eddie just not realizing until it was too late.
Steve finds some Motrin in his bag, shakes two into his own hand to try and stop any oncoming hangover headache if he’s going to have to deal with this and gives the bottle to Eddie, “Get out ahead of it.”
Eddie agrees, but in the end, it still isn’t enough.
By early morning, he’s in so much pain Steve takes him to a twenty-four hour emergency clinic. They can’t really do anything other than fill a prescription for painkillers and an antibiotic at their in-house pharmacy and tell him he probably has an exposed nerve.
Eddie is very concerned he’s going to lose his tooth, but they can’t tell him anything, they aren’t dentists. So he's not being terribly helpful at providing answers to their questioning.
"Eddie," Steve says, gripping both of his shoulders, "we'll fix it. But are you allergic to penicillin?"
He shakes his head no, finally answering Steve when he was the one that asked.
"That's good, thank you," he says, smiling back at the nurse.
Steve asks around for a place to get him in quick, and someone suggests Molar City, but Steve can’t find that in the phone book hooked to the payphone in the hallway. Finally someone else clarifies that they mean Los Algodones, Mexico, since they aren't that far from the border. Looking at the atlas, Steve isn’t convinced five hours counts as close to the border, especially when they could probably throw a rock and hit a dentist’s office in a town as big as Vegas, but okay.
Crossing into Mexico just to go to the dentist seems crazy to Steve. They’re in Vegas, there are plenty of dentists here and they have the money to have it fixed by anyone that has an appointment available. Eddie, of course, seems to think it'll be an adventure. Eddie is also high on pain meds, and Steve thinks his opinion should be taken with a grain of salt.
Steve tries to dissuade him, but Eddie wins, Eddie always wins, Steve realizes, and they drive back to the hotel. Eddie lays on the bed, while Steve packs them both up.
"Do you want to wear these sweatpants of mine to make it more comfortable to sleep in the car?" Steve asks.
He doesn't think Eddie really has any clothes Steve would consider comfortable.
Eddie looks like he wants to say no, but finally nods.
Steve hands over the gray sweatpants.
Eddie puts them on and they nearly fall back to his ankles.
"Tighten the drawstring," Steve suggests, and Eddie does. They fit much better after that.
Steve loads the car with both their bags and Eddie, and then they head for the border.
Eddie is nodding off due to the narcotics. He sleeps off and on, and the last time he was awake, he had reached over and took ahold of Steve's hand.
Steve drives, Eddie still holding onto him in his sleep. Distractedly, Steve brings their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of Eddie's hand. He laughs to himself when he realizes what he's done on autopilot. He tells himself it was a leftover reflex from holding hands with girls while driving.
But he still doesn't let go of Eddie's hand. If Eddie needs a little comfort from him, he’s damn well going to get it. Eddie made sure he was taken care of after he got his ass whipped at that bar, so this is just a small repayment for that kindness.
Along Highway 95, Eddie wakes up, saying he's going to puke. Steve pulls over, helps him out when he says he's dizzy, holds his hair back while he dry heaves. Eddie doesn't actually get anything up, but he seems to feel better after a few minutes.
"Better?"
Eddie just nods, letting Steve guide him back into the car.
He’s back asleep only a few minutes later.
Eddie's awake again, but he’s been fucking with the radio for miles, just searching and searching, for what, Steve has no idea. They've heard two second snippets of about a hundred songs, but nothing seems to please him.
Steve's not starting a fight with a drugged Eddie, so he just lets him keep doing whatever it is he's doing.
ooga chack-a
ooga ooga
ooga chack-a
ooga ooga
Eddie finally stops pushing the button, cackles, turning to Steve, singing, "I can't stop this feeling. Deep inside of me. Girl, you just don't realize...what you do to me. When you hold me, in your arms so tight. You let me know, everything's alright."
Steve just shakes his head, looks back at the road.
Eddie continues, unbothered, louder than before, "I'm hooked on a feeling. I'm high on believing. That you're in love with me."
"You're high on something, all right," Steve laughs.
Eddie stays awake for a little bit, but he's back out again shortly.
Steve tries to ignore any deeper meaning, just telling himself Eddie is stoned as shit and doesn’t know what he’s doing or saying.
They get a motel room right on the United States side of the border, so they can cross first thing in the morning.
It's difficult to get Eddie settled in the room, he's still in pain and nothing is comfortable. But he's chilled out, and sluggish. It's a weird combination. The pain pills have made him more tactile than he usually is, which is always a lot, so Steve is getting used to him just touching him all day. Steve doesn’t really mind.
Eddie’s perpetually on the verge of falling asleep, but he keeps jerking awake, like he's fighting sleep.
"Go to sleep, it's okay," Steve says, sitting on the edge of Eddie's bed, running his hand down Eddie’s arm, hoping that it’s soothing.
"It still hurts," Eddie says, then asks, "Can I have another pill?"
"Almost," Steve tells him, "I'll go get you some ice and then you can have one."
Steve goes down to the front desk looking for a plastic baggie, or something, and they actually have one of those refillable ice packs to sell him. He figures it must be pretty common to have guests staying here before hitting the sea of dentists across the border.
He buys the bag and fills it up at the ice machine outside.
Steve belatedly realizes that maybe he should have made an appointment somewhere before driving all this way. He asks the desk clerk if they have a list of dentist offices or a recommendation, anything. They hand him a printed sheet and explain how to make an international phone call.
He worries that they are only going to speak Spanish, but he calls around, and everyone speaks English, luckily for him. He explains the problem and finally finds an early morning appointment. He writes down the directions the receptionist gives him to the office and hopes like hell they can find it.
When he gets back to the room he wraps the ice pack in a hand towel and hands it to Eddie along with another pain pill.
"Thanks."
Steve nods and sits down on the little couch across from the TV, grabs the remote and flips through the channels. It doesn't take long before Eddie is asleep again. He watches a bunch of daytime trash, while Eddie sleeps.
Eventually his stomach growls loudly enough that he goes looking for something to eat. He hadn’t had anything for lunch, besides some stale donuts in the car while Eddie was sleeping and a candy bar he wolfed down in the checkout line of the gas station they’d stopped at so he didn’t have to eat it in front of Eddie.
He finds the vending machine and eats two bags of chips and three candy bars standing next to it.
When he gets back to the room he watches Perfect Strangers and Head of the Class, and is just starting Dynasty when Eddie wakes back up.
"Are you watching...Dallas?" Eddie asks, walking over to the couch, squinting at the television.
"No, Dallas is on Friday nights. This is Dynasty," Steve tells him.
"It's that The Professor from Gilligan's Island?"
"Looks like it," Steve says, "but I've never seen him on here before, so that's probably not really relevant to the plot."
"Is it about oil?"
"Yes."
"And the guy in the shower?"
"No, that's Bobby from Dallas. This is about other rich oil people."
"Can I?" Eddie motions, like he wants to lay down on the couch. Steve nods.
"Sure, you want me to get up?" Steve asks.
Eddie shakes his head no, so Steve stays put.
"Hmm," Eddie continues, turning to lay his head, the side without the bad tooth, on Steve's thigh, "these shows sound too similar."
"I kinda think that's the point," Steve says, resting his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "to like, capitalize on it."
"Who shot J.R.?"
"Still Dallas."
"Then what does this show have?"
"Sammy Jo," Steve says.
"Who's he?"
"She is a hot chick."
"Oh," Eddie says, closing his eyes.
Steve laughs, "There's also an openly gay character, so Robin is how I got into it. I mean, he's a gay man. So she isn't into that, personally, but she's happy there's a show willing to represent at all. But maybe gay isn't the right word? He was married to Sammy Jo."
"Bisexual," Eddie says, softly into his leg.
But Steve plows ahead lost in his train of thought, "Oh, and his name is Steven Carrington."
Eddie laughs at that, "Oh, you almost had me. That name, though, that's where you went too far."
Steve laughs, how Eddie had never heard the jokes pointed in his direction because of the similarity in names, he has no idea. "I swear on Dustin's mother, dude. Promise."
Eddie smiles, "That's a funny coincidence, then," he says, and it's clear he's about to doze back off.
"Yeah, it is," Steve answers, squeezing Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie is hellbent on taking a shower, so Steve lets him get in and then stands right outside of the opaque curtain. He’s not sure how that’s really helping, but he feels better in case he falls.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Eddie answers.
They've had the same exchange half a dozen times.
Eddie doesn’t fall, it’s completely uneventful. Steve hands him his towel over the top of the curtain when he turns the water off.
In the morning, they park in the lot on the U.S. side and walk across. The border agent sees Eddie holding the ice pack to his cheek and just nods them through, knowing exactly the nature of the trip.
Steve checks him in, and sits in the small waiting room. In the end, it was fixed fast and was cheap. The crown is temporary, but it should get him back home to his own dentist. And, most importantly, it will be a story, Eddie was right about that.
Standing outside afterwards, Steve takes a couple pictures of Eddie in front of the dentist's office. Eddie's giving him two thumbs up, high as a kite. Adding the after effects of laughing gas to the mix is going to make for another interesting day.
Looking through the viewfinder to snap the pictures, Steve feels so fucking fond.
Eddie finds a sewn-on patch of a tooth at one of the stands selling things along the street and is beyond excited. He tries to start sewing it on in the car.
"Let's wait on that," Steve suggests, taking the sewing kit from Eddie's hands. Nobody needs to get poked with a needle.
He pouts for a minute, but as soon as the car is moving down the highway, he's fallen asleep.
Eddie sleeps the next several hours, so Steve has to navigate by himself, and it's much less fun. Eddie is right beside him, but Steve misses him. It's an odd feeling to have.
Eddie wakes up and wants something to eat, so Steve hits a Wendy’s drive-thru. Orders Eddie a Frosty with a spoon. Steve thinks he’s still a little high, and is completely sure of it, when Eddie reaches over to feed him a spoonful, saying, "Sharing is caring, big boy."
Steve accepts it, since he is certain that's the path of least resistance.
Eddie dozes off again before he’s completely finished, the cup falling from his hand to the floorboard. It’s probably going to stain the floor mat. Steve can’t find it in himself to really care.
Eddie ran out of weed over a week ago and acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but now he suddenly won’t shut up about it. He's completely fixated on it, even if they haven't been smoking that often.
Steve thinks they are close to where the Byers had lived in California, before they moved back. He thinks Jonathan is still in the same area, going to school with Argyle. He calls Henderson, hoping to catch him after school, so he can call Will to get Argyle and Jonathan's number or to get them to call them back at the number on the pay phone. It's a long game of telephone, but in the end the pay phone had rang, Jonathan on the other end of the line, and now Eddie is standing next to a pizza delivery van, buying weed. He's still a little fucked up on pain medicine. Steve’s definitely holding the weed until he’s sure everything else is out of Eddie’s system.
Eddie and Argyle seem to be having a very deep conversation, and Steve can only imagine the weirdness that's taking place.
"Is he already high on something else? I don't know him very well, but…" Jonathan trails off, standing on the wooden deck of the abandoned building where they are doing this drug deal. Steve is leaning against the wooden platform, and thinks it’s a little awkward looking up to talk to Jonathan, but he won’t seem to just sit down.
"Pain pills. Legally. He just had a root canal this morning. In Mexico." Steve can't believe those words, in that order, just came out of his mouth. He laughs.
"You guys are certainly on an adventure," Jonathan says, and Steve can't deny that fact.
Steve laughs again, that's an understatement.
"I can't believe Argyle still has his pizza job, he didn't get fired for taking the van all the way to Hawkins?" Steve asks, eyes still on Eddie, who is telling what appears to be a wild story.
"Nah, his boss is cool," Jonathan says, then adds, like he just noticed, "you're growing a mustache."
And Steve can’t tell if he thinks it’s a great idea or an awful one.
"Yeah, somebody hates my mustache," Steve announces loudly, until Eddie turns around long enough to flip him the bird.
He’s running out of things to say to Jonathan, they aren't really friends, but he holds no ill will. Not anymore. "How's school?"
"School's fine," Jonathan says, "they have a nice dark room I can use whenever I want, so that's cool."
Steve nods. Then he asks, "Have you seen Nance lately?"
"Not in a bit," Jonathan admits, "you?"
"End of summer, before she left for school."
Jonathan nods back. It's just about to get uncomfortable, with nothing else to ask about, but Steve looks up to see Eddie smoking something out of a pipe.
"Hey! Bad idea!" Steve hollers, pushing himself up to standing.
Eddie turns and looks at him, like, who me?
"Yes, you."
"It's just weed, Dad."
"And you're already on pills, so maybe let's not do that right now." Maybe it's fine. Steve has no idea.
Eddie hands the pipe back to Argyle and then bounces up, Argyle following.
"Argyle hooked me up," Eddie says, all secretive, like they aren't out in the middle of nowhere, just the four of them.
Steve laughs, "I see that."
"It's medicinal, my dude, it can only help with his pain," Argyle tells Steve.
"I just don't want any extra issues," Steve says, and it sounds lame to his own ears.
Eddie pulls the camera out of his pocket, and Steve gives him a tight-lipped smile. Then laughs when Eddie complains about his face.
“Your hair looks worse than your mustache right now, just so you know,” Eddie says, and Steve glowers at him, “and those glasses with the mustache make you look like a pervert. Or a serial killer.”
They are the glasses Eddie picked out at the last thrift store, so he’s just being a little shit because he can.
“Maybe if I wasn’t standing out in the desert waiting on you to buy drugs, I’d look better.”
"There's a party tonight if you brochachos want to come," Argyle offers, interrupting their banter.
Eddie's eyes get wide, but Steve shakes his head, "We need to get back on the road."
"You're no fun, Harrington," Eddie whines.
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve banters back, making the chattering mouth motion with his hand.
Steve isn't opposed to partying with Argyle and Jonathan, but he's not letting Eddie mix alcohol with his pain pills. The weed was enough. The doctor in Vegas had been very clear about alcohol, though, and Eddie hadn't exactly been showing restraint on his intake in Vegas.
Eddie makes a gimme motion with his hands, and Steve shrugs off the backpack Eddie had handed him earlier. Steve watches as Eddie puts his newly acquired small bundle of weed in the inner pocket.
They call Dustin back to say thanks and tell him they got ahold of Jonathan. But Dustin is unimpressed by the whole thing, knowing exactly what they were up to, “Stop doing shady drug deals and just come home already.”
“We’ll be home by Christmas, I swear on Dustin's mother,” Eddie promises with a stoned giggle, Steve laughing in the background.
Steve takes the phone back, "We'll be home soon, Henderson. By Christmas, apparently."
"It's November 6th! That's a long way from Christmas."
Eddie is finally fully awake, but still seems just a little loopy. It's already dark, the damn sun is setting so fucking early now, and the darkness stretches out in front of them, city lights still out of sight.
"Tell me a secret, Stevie," Eddie demands, turning in his seat to face Steve.
“This is the longest I’ve ever gone without sex since I lost my virginity,” Steve says, and he is immediately embarrassed. He doesn’t know why that is what tumbled out of his mouth. How is that a secret? Eddie knows that already, he was there for the ass kicking they got just so Steve could try and get his dick wet. Is he the one on drugs right now? No fucking filter, Jesus.
“Do you want me to schedule a detour to The Mustang Ranch?” Eddie asks, tapping on the atlas in his lap. He's clearly feeling much better. And doesn't seem phased by Steve's weirdness.
But Steve is confused. Horses? “Horses?”
Eddie laughs, “No horses. It’s a famous brothel in Nevada. Legal. I could get you a prostitute, mark ass off the list,” Eddie singsongs, like he’s trying to tempt Steve.
“Oh. Oh!” Steve can feel his ears turn bright red, thank fuck it's dark and Eddie can't see him. “No, that’s okay. Unless that’s something you want to do?”
“That is not something I want to do,” Eddie laughs, the sound is loud and he's clearly amused by Steve's embarrassment.
“I’ve never paid for it before,” Steve says, “never even thought about it, I guess.”
“‘Course not. Look at you,” Eddie says, teasing.
“Yeah, yeah. Like you’re a bridge troll, Munson.”
Eddie's quiet for a stretch, and Steve wishes he could see him better than he can by the dashboard lights.
“Women aren’t really my thing, Steve. I kind of thought you probably knew that by now.”
“Oh, yeah? Cool. Good for you,” Steve says, awkwardly, but meaning it. Steve's not completely stupid. He's obviously suspected. Hoped, a little, even, maybe, if he's really honest with himself. He’s not about to judge. With the confusing feelings he’s been having, he doesn’t feel in any position to throw any stones, “They have boys at the ranch?”
Eddie laughs, smiles wide, and even in near dark Steve can see it's genuine. Steve smiles at the sight. Eddie really does have a beautiful smile. He’s glad he got to keep all his teeth.
“Robin told me you were cool, when she, you know, came out. Told me to just tell you, like, months ago. But I was scared. Still kind of am. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable.”
“Eddie. You don't make me uncomfortable. This changes nothing, man,” Steve says, reaching over, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder. Though he’s pretty sure it could change a lot of things, if Eddie is interested in those things changing. And isn’t that a thought?
Steve’s never been with a guy before, but he’s definitely not opposed to exploring the idea of that happening with Eddie. He thinks he should be more freaked out by that than he is, but in the dark cocoon of his car, it doesn’t seem so scary. Eddie Munson does a lot of things to him these days, but scaring him isn't one of them.
"Now you tell me a secret," Steve says, redirecting the conversation.
"Uh, I think I just told you my biggest one," Eddie laughs.
"Oh, right." Steve thinks maybe he is a little stupid, since he hadn't even thought of it like that. That just seemed like regular conversation.
Eddie is quiet, then finally says, "I lost my virginity to a girl."
"How'd that go for you?"
"Not great, Steve," Eddie laughs, "I feel guilty about doing that to her."
"It wasn't her first time, was it?" Steve doesn't know why, but that seems like it would be worse.
"No, it wasn't. But I'm sure I'm the worst sexual experience she's ever had to this day."
"Eddie," Steve says, softly, "I bet that's not true."
"Every girl longs for a guy that can barely keep it up. I was a teenage boy, a slight breeze could get me hard, so that was embarrassing."
"Okay, maybe that's not ideal," Steve agrees, "but, most teenage boys are horny assholes. Trust me, I know. I was one. But I bet you didn't pressure her, you pressured yourself. And that’s why it wasn’t working out. I mean, and she was a girl. But yeah, the pressure was probably most of the issue, I bet. Did you blame her, take it out on her?"
Eddie shakes his head. Steve knew the answer to that anyway. He's been around Eddie long enough now to know that the core of him is sweet and kind. Kinder than Steve thinks he has ever been, that's for damn sure.
Eddie is quiet and Steve can't really see him, so he reaches over and squeezes Eddie's knee, "I bet she doesn't regret sleeping with a nice boy she really liked, even if he turned out to be gay."
"I liked her a lot, just not sexually, as it turned out."
"And you didn't know that until you experienced it, and that's okay. Sometimes you just have to be brave enough to try."
Steve is pretty sure he's just talking about himself now. He hopes he can be brave enough to try, someday. Someday, soon.
Steve realizes, miles down the road, that Robin was trying to set them up. She knew Eddie is gay and knew exactly what she was suggesting. She was trying to get Steve to not come off so surly because she wanted Eddie to like him, like him. She’s a traitor and he’ll make her pay for this, Steve smiles to himself.
He has another thought, “If you’re gay, why did you take us to so many titty bars? You're the one that picked Hooters!”
Eddie laughs, “Well, because you like boobies, as we’ve all been told, repeatedly.”
“Thanks, man,” Steve says, smiling at him, “that’s nice of you. Taking one for the team.”
Eddie just laughs, “Anything for you, Steve.”
“Do you want me to, like, repay the favor? I’ll go with you to a…dick bar? I don’t know, whatever the male equivalent is, I guess.”
Eddie laughs to the point of near hyperventilation, “I don’t know what a dick bar is, but if we find one, we absolutely must go,” Eddie finally says.
Steve snaps his fingers, points at Eddie, “A gay club! That’s the word I was looking for!”
“No, no, I was promised a dick bar, Harrington.”
Steve smiles at Eddie, and then reaches over and jabs his fingers into Eddie’s ribs as payback. Eddie just laughs more.
“I’d try to be a good wingman,” Steve says, “you think my charm will work on men?”
“I’m fairly certain that it would,” Eddie says, smiling just a little bit.
Steve can’t help but smile to himself at that thought.
Eddie was absolutely starving, so they pulled into a Carl's Jr. Eddie orders two of the advertised new Double Western Bacon Cheeseburgers. He's tearing into them like he hasn't eaten in days, which to be fair, he kind of hasn't. He moans around a bite and Steve squirms in his seat across from him in the booth.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie. Shhh," he shushes, "there are children and you sound like you're getting off."
"I kind of am," Eddie mumbles around a bite, "this has onion rings on it."
Steve is embarrassed that his dick is a little hard just listening to Eddie eat, but it truly sounds like he's having an orgasm over there. And a good one. Not some half-assed one.
After they've finished eating and get back on the road, Steve gets them to Los Angeles and finds a nice hotel. He figures Eddie could use a comfortable bed for the next day or two. They've both enjoyed staying in the rundown and tacky motels in the middle of nowhere. The gaudier, the more entertained they are by them. But they’ve also enjoyed the few nice hotels they’ve stayed in, too.
Eddie
It's been a long fucking day. He's tired, and is almost asleep when Steve comes out of the bathroom in just his shorts, like always. Eddie is a little surprised. He realizes he figured Steve would suddenly feel the need to unconsciously cover himself up more now that he knows Eddie's gay. Maybe nothing really has changed. Maybe he is safe to be himself with Steve Harrington, of all people.
"Thanks for taking care of me, man," Eddie says, smiling at him.
"Anytime," Steve answers, crawling into his own bed.
Steve Harrington probably isn't going to pop him in the mouth when he figures out he has a crush on him, so at least there's that, Eddie thinks.
"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Eddie asks, looking over at him.
Steve smiles, "C'mon, let's not even pretend I'm calling the shots here, we all know better."
Eddie smiles back, "I'll figure something interesting out in the morning," he promises.
"You always do," Steve answers, stretching over to flip off his bedside lamp.
Eddie copies him, flipping his own side off, leaving them in near darkness. It doesn't take very long before Steve is snoring, and Eddie relaxes into his pillow at the now familiar sound. He isn't sure how he's ever going to sleep again without that sound in the same room when this trip ends.
Notes:
From an article about Dynasty: "ABC's nighttime soap cornered the market on the "confused bisexual" trope: While oil heir Stephen (sic) Carrington identified as gay, he had relationships with both men and women throughout the series."
Confused bisexual trope, you say? Who were we talking about, again? ;)
Rock Hudson’s death from AIDS in 1985 really scared Hollywood into buckling down on gay storylines on TV, so they backed off of Steven Carrington’s gay plotline on Dynasty, but he was the first gay character in a drama, I believe.
And Heather Locklear played Sammy Jo. I think Steve Harrington would have loved him some Heather Locklear, lol.
Photo credits: Dentist office by Matt Gove Photo, Wendy's from Eat This, Joe & Charlie from Pinterest, Carl's Jr. from a TV ad from 1986.
Chapter 13: Can't Fight This Feeling
Notes:
Thanks again, everyone! It makes me so happy that there are people digging this adventure! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
what started out as friendship has grown stronger
i only wish i had the strength to let it show
Can't Fight This Feeling, REO Speedwagon
Steve
Eddie has been quiet. Not too quiet, not that weird day in Vegas quiet, but he is pretty damn mellow, at least for Eddie.
“You okay?” Steve asks, glancing over at him.
“Yeah, why?” Eddie asks, and seems surprised that Steve is asking him that.
“You just seem quiet, is all,” Steve says, “I wanted to make sure your tooth was okay.”
“It’s good. I’m good,” Eddie says, and smiles at Steve.
He seems okay, so Steve takes him at his word.
Steve spends the next couple miles thinking about it, continues to study him when he’s not looking and finally decides that Eddie is just comfortable. Finally. He’s not on now, at least not every minute of every day. So Eddie can be quiet, can be still, he just needs to be sure that he’s safe to do that. Steve doesn’t know if it was the coming out that settled him, or just the sheer amount of time they’ve been trapped together in a confined space at this point.
It flares something in Steve that Eddie feels safe enough with him to just be. Steve’s grown to love the over-the-top Eddie, the one that used to drive him insane half the time, but he’s grown to love this Eddie, too. The softer side that Steve is getting to see more and more each day. He’s seen glimpses before, of course, but this is new territory.
“Beverly Hills! Swimming pools. Movie stars,” Eddie says, and it makes Steve smile.
"We are hillbillies, that's for damn sure."
"Speak for yourself, I'm very cool," Eddie says, sticking out his chest, comically.
"So cool," Steve snarks. Eddie is cool, but there's no reason to stroke his ego.
Eddie has bought a city map, because he said he's sure he needs more help than the atlas can provide in a city this big. He also snagged a tourist map that has the locations of houses of the stars. It had an insert for filming locations, and famous murder locations, too. He starts giving Steve mystery directions, making Steve guess where they are. Steve is terrible at it.
He takes them by Lucille Ball’s house, which Steve doesn’t recognize, and really, why would he?
Then he directs them up in the hills, and makes him turn on Cielo Drive. It’s kind of narrow, and he feels like he’s driving in people yards, the streets are so cramped with cars parked along the street and the houses are right there by the road. He hates it.
“Where are you taking us, I don’t like this,” Steve says, pulling to the side to let another car pass.
At the next intersection, Steve slows almost to a stop, “It says dead end!”
“Keep going, Harrington.”
It’s just a gate.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” Steve says, annoyed.
“Well? Where are we?”
“I don’t fucking know, up a narrow hill of a road that I’m now going to have to drive back down!”
Eddie looks at him, “Did you not read Helter Skelter?"
Steve is sure the look he gives him is scathing, “I don’t even know what that is! You fucking know I didn’t read anything! Goddammit, Eddie!”
“Behind the gate is Sharon Tate’s house,” Eddie says.
“You brought me to the Manson murder house?! That we can’t even see, I might add!”
“I should have known this was a bad idea, when you didn’t immediately recognize the Cielo Drive address, sorry,” Eddie says, just a hint of sheepishness. He's not fucking sorry, Steve can tell.
“It’s fine. Let’s fuck off back down that hill. Unless you’d like me to murder you here. That's always an option.”
“I’ll pass,” Eddie answers, trying not to smile, "you'll know the next one, I swear!"
Eddie isn't wrong.
"That's Ridgemont High!"
The next one stumps him again, "I don't know."
"Doc Brown's house from Back to the Future," Eddie tells him.
"Oh, I was super drugged when I saw that."
Eddie cuts him a sideways glance.
"Are we done with this?" Steve asks.
"We can be," Eddie says, looking at the map and giving him new directions.
They go to Tower Records on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood. Eddie combs through the displays and picks out a handful of new tapes, including the newest albums by Megadeth and W.A.S.P.
Steve picks up the new Huey Lewis and the News and he sees Eddie rolling his eyes. He grabs the single for Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer that has You Give Love a Bad Name as the B-side.
He also feels like he needs to buy the new Paul Simon album. He'd just seen the new music video with Chevy Chase on MTV in a motel room the other night and it was hilarious. Eddie’s going to hate it.
Eddie sees Whiskey a Go Go down the street, “We should see something there while we’re here!”
Steve nods. If he’s supposed to know what there is, he doesn’t, but isn’t stupid enough to say that aloud.
“And The Roxy is right there! I had no idea they were so close together,” Eddie says.
Steve feels supremely uncool. He thought he was cool once upon a time.
They finally stop to pick up their pictures from Vegas that they had developed at a place near their hotel. Eddie is flipping through them in the parking lot when he suddenly yelps, hugging the stack to his chest, “Oh no, no, no.”
“What?”
“Absolutely not, Harrington. Look away, I’ve got a photo to burn.”
Well, now Steve has to see whatever this is and tries to wrestle them away from him, but Eddie is squirrely and keeps twisting around out of his grasp.
“Eddie! Let me see!”
“No!”
“Eddie!” he says, trying anything he can think of to get whatever it is into his possession. He doesn’t know what it is, but he knows he needs to see it, desperately.
“Okay. Okay. Stop it!” Eddie says, “You can see it. Once. And then I’ll destroy it.”
“Okay,” Steve agrees warily, he’s pretty sure this is a trick to get him to give up and let go.
“I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing, obviously,” Eddie says, and very, very reluctantly hands over the stack of pictures.
On top, there is a picture Eddie had taken of himself in the full length mirror in the room, in just the little rainbow swim trunks. He looks quite proud of himself, and Steve is tickled.
“Oh, please don’t destroy this, I want to put it in my wallet,” Steve teases.
“Very funny,” Eddie says, “this does not need to exist in the world.”
“It really does. Please, let’s keep it,” Steve wheedles, holding it to his own chest, “please.”
"This is humiliating."
"It's adorable!" Steve counters.
"Somebody developed this. Somebody, in this town, saw this picture of me."
"I'm pretty sure a machine does most of the work these days."
"They still check them over! I'm sure they do, and someone saw this and thought, 'look at that queer' and that's mortifying."
"Hey! No." Steve says, suddenly serious and a little harsh, "Don't you say that about yourself. Don't. And those are my shorts, if it had been a picture of me in them instead, would you have thought that?"
"Maybe a little," Eddie mumbles, "they are rainbow striped."
"Are rainbows gay?" If so, this is news to Steve.
"In some circles," Eddie offers.
Steve wonders if Robin knew that when she picked the shorts out. Probably, that sounds like her.
"Look at me," Steve says, and Eddie does, "if you don't want this to exist, we'll make it disappear. But I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself. You're you, Eddie, and you're pretty fucking great, just as you are."
"It's embarrassing."
"The picture? Or being gay?"
"If I say both you're going to get mad."
"Damn fucking right I am," Steve says, and reaches over and places the picture in Eddie's lap, "that picture is silly. It doesn't define you in any way other than as someone willing to have a bit of fun."
"I look like an asshole."
"You really don't."
Eddie rolls his eyes, “Fine. Nobody sees that but us. Swear it, Harrington. I will kill you.”
“I promise!” Steve says, delighted, looking back at the picture, “Look how proud of yourself you look. This is one of my favorite pictures on earth.”
Eddie tries not to smile, Steve can tell, but he's unsuccessful.
Eddie
They go to the indoor pool at the hotel and Steve wears the little rainbow shorts, proudly. Trying to prove a point, Eddie is fucking sure.
Eddie is fully dressed. He is certain he looks far more ridiculous today in a leather jacket at the pool than he ever did in the swim trunks. He overreacted. Now he's sure Steve thinks he hates himself for being gay. He really doesn't, not on a day-to-day basis, anyway. But that picture made something in him snap. He's already been an idiot from his narcotic-loosened tongue just coming out, with no exit strategy. He would not have picked in the car, with no way to run, but his big mouth was working overtime, as usual.
He's lucky Steve was so cool. The weight of that secret being gone has been nice, though. He feels like he can breathe just a little better, a little easier.
But that picture, that's not the way he sees himself and it's not the way he wants others to see him either.
Steve swims and Eddie watches from his lounge chair.
When Steve finally pulls himself out of the pool, Eddie tracks several pairs of eyes on him, male and female. They watch him push his wet hair back out of his face. No one is laughing, they are just checking him out like he's Phoebe Cates coming out of the pool in Fast Times. The way the thin, wet swimsuit is clinging to his ass, his dick, leaving nothing to the imagination. Nobody is laughing, especially not Eddie.
Steve stops in front of his chair, "You ready?"
Eddie nods and puffs up a little when they leave together, like he won. He hasn't won shit, but the people at the pool don't know that.
Steve takes a shower to wash the chlorine off, and afterwards Eddie watches him moisturize his face.
“What’s next?” Steve asks, digging through his luggage, clearly needing guidance on what he should wear for the rest of the night. Eddie thinks he could always use a little guidance in that department.
“I thought we could go up to the Griffith Observatory and look through the telescope.”
“The telescope?”
“Yeah, I read about it in Newsweek when they were doing the coverage on Halley’s Comet. Apparently it’s huge. Then we could check out the clubs, see who’s playing?”
Eddie really wants to look through the Zeiss telescope. He’s not sure what he can see tonight, maybe he should call the phone number with the recorded sky report and find out. It doesn’t really matter, he’ll see whatever there is to see, even if it’s just stars.
They drive right by The Greek on the way to the Observatory. For such a big city, Eddie thinks everything is kind of close together.
They wait in the line to use the telescope and it is bigger than he’d even expected.
The attendant is right there to help, but instead, Steve asks Eddie questions when it's his turn, not the actual expert. That makes Eddie a little warm inside.
When they check out the clubs afterwards, they don’t know either band playing, so Eddie just picks The Whiskey and they go there. It’s shoulder-to-shoulder in the crowd of people and Eddie can tell Steve is ready to go before they even get drinks.
Eddie isn’t going to piss him off again today, so they just hang out a little bit, and leave. He can at least say he’s been. It’s not like he was dying to see the show.
The next morning they visit the La Brea Tar Pits.
“They stink,” Steve says, and he’s definitely not wrong.
Looking at the fiberglass statues of the mammoths in and near the tar, Steve looks at Eddie, “That’s fucking morbid, right?”
“I think it’s just nature,” but he can understand that Steve might not have the stomach for seeing any more suffering, he’s definitely seen his fair share.
Steve
For lunch they stop at Pink’s Hot Dogs. Eddie brings them four different hot dogs to share.
"That's a lot of onions," is the first thing that pops into Steve's head, then, "is that sauerkraut?"
He's really unsure about this.
Eddie takes a bite and then hands it to Steve.
Sharing hot dogs has to be gayer than rainbow shorts, but Steve says nothing and takes a bite. It is definitely a lot of onions, but it's pretty good.
They walk around Hollywood Blvd and see the stars on the Walk of Fame. They see Liberace and Dean Martin’s stars, and a lot of other names they don’t recognize.
Just a few steps off Hollywood Blvd, on Hudson Avenue, Steve sees a sign for National Gay Archives. He points it out to Eddie.
“You want to go in?” he asks, and Eddie looks curious, but finally shakes his head no.
Steve nods, he’s not going to push him, and they cross the street and head on back down the boulevard. They come across Burt Reynolds’ star and Eddie laughs, “It’s you, Bandit.”
“Very funny,” Steve answers.
They walk a little further, past the Roosevelt Hotel and Grauman's Chinese Theatre and Steve can tell Eddie is dragging his feet a little.
“What’s up?”
“Can we go back? To the archive? I think I do want to go in.”
“Sure,” Steve says, and stops and turns to walk back in the other direction. Eddie has them cross the street so they can see some different stars along the way back. They get to see Elvis’ star, which drew their attention, because there was a small crowd around, so they knew it must be somebody worth seeing over there.
Eddie hesitates at the door of the building and Steve takes his hand and pulls him in behind him. It’s a little musty, but there are metal shelves that go all the way to the ceiling positively full of yellowing newspapers. Shelves crammed full of books. Filing cabinets stuffed with documents. Eddie’s eyes keep darting around, not sure where to look first.
The man running the place is kind, and gives them an impromptu tour. Eddie, who is always so full of questions, is uncharacteristically quiet.
So, Steve asks questions. He feels like he probably sounds ignorant, but he’s trying his best to get the ball rolling for Eddie to start asking the questions he actually wants the answers to, not just the basic things Steve can think to ask about.
They learn the collection started in San Francisco in 1942. It's the largest public collection of gay publications and newspapers, over twenty-one thousand in total.
Robin would love this place. Steve thinks Nancy would probably love it, too, just for the newspaper collection alone. He feels kinda like it's being wasted on him, an idiot who never reads anything he doesn't have to.
The man asks if they are a couple and Eddie answers for them, "No, we're friends. He's straight."
Steve doesn't make any corrections, even if he feels like he probably shouldn't call himself straight at this point, if he really wants to shine a light in that dark recess of his brain. Even as bad at math as he is, he can still figure out that even if it's just girls plus Eddie, that doesn't equal straight. Eddie had called it bisexual, so maybe that's what he is, but he doesn't fucking know anymore. He doesn't feel gay, he knows that, women still catch his eye. But Eddie definitely has his attention.
It takes a little bit, but eventually Eddie starts asking questions and Steve is able to slink into the background and just watch him lean over the desk with the old man, combing through paper after paper.
Eddie asks him about San Francisco, and Steve is pretty sure that's now on the travel itinerary.
“That’s where Belushi died,” Eddie says, pointing up to the Chateau Marmot castle as they drive by.
“That’s why we don’t do drugs,” Steve says.
Eddie looks over at him, “One of us in this car has done cocaine, and it isn’t me.”
Steve laughs, “I didn’t mix it with heroin!”
“So you say,” Eddie teases, “I don’t know what sort of hedonistic shit you’ve been up to.”
Steve laughs, "You know me, I'm wild."
They stop at the video center parking lot that has the little West Hollywood sign that is designed to look like a miniature version of the big Hollywood sign in the hills. The man at the archives had directed them to it. Each letter is about four feet tall, and it’s up on the little hill of the parking lot.
"You want to go to Universal Studios and tour the backlot where they film movies?"
Steve definitely wants to do that, "Yes!"
They do, and they get to see the Delorean, first thing, “Hey, it’s Alex P. Keaton’s car!” Steve says, excited, pointing.
“I think it was Doc Brown’s car,” Eddie corrects.
Steve waves him off.
They watch little kids lifting the A-Team van off the ground, and Eddie is circling. Steve knows that look. He’s trying to figure it out.
“I’m going with fiberglass,” Eddie decides, "and the left tires are cemented to the ground."
The tram ride is cool, and they get to see a lot of things, including the brand new King Kong Encounter, the shark from Jaws and the house from Psycho.
That evening Eddie sees an ad in the newspaper he’s reading over dinner, “Metal Church is playing tomorrow in Anaheim!”
“Who’s doing what now?” Steve asks, looking over Eddie, but his nose is shoved into the newspaper.
“Metal Church. They were touring with Metallica before the accident in Sweden," Eddie says as he rips the ad out of the paper, “If I can get tickets, you want to go?”
“Sure, man,” Steve says, easy. Metal isn’t his thing, but it would make Eddie happy, so he’s in. That's been the general theme of this whole trip and Steve isn't about to stop that now.
"We could go to Disneyland during the day, have you ever been?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, once. Louisa took me while my dad was on a business trip. I was pretty little though, so I don't remember a whole lot."
They do hit Disneyland the next day. Steve is reading the souvenir guide he picked up, "It says lost children are kept in First Aid at the end of Mainstreet. So, now I know where to find you, that's good."
"You're just hilarious," Eddie volleys back.
When they get through Mainstreet, Steve hands the map to Eddie and motions with his hands, silently asking, left or right?
He's asked Eddie this exact question probably a thousand times by now.
Eddie nods left so they go left. He's still in charge of navigation.
They've barely made it into the park and Eddie is already eating something called a Dole Whip. It’s ice cream adjacent and it's not even lunchtime yet. Steve swears Eddie has a hollow leg.
"You have to try this," Eddie says and holds out his spoon.
Steve does and it's really good.
"Okay, that's good."
They end up sharing it.
They ride the Jungle Cruise, Pirates of the Caribbean, Haunted Mansion, and Big Thunder Railroad.
Steve is arguing that this is way better than Silver Dollar City.
"But are we learning anything?" Eddie asks and that's really not the argument he thinks it is.
"No, and that's why it's better!" Steve says, sweeping his arm around, motioning to what he is certain is clearly the superior theme park.
Eddie just laughs and then promptly drags Steve into the Hall of Presidents.
"I said no learning!" Steve laughs, plugging his ears as Eddie shoves him playfully.
Steve buys them both custom mouse ears and Eddie very reluctantly puts them on for a picture together.
They have fun, despite Eddie poking Steve with a stick, trying to make him learn things at a theme park.
They ride Matterhorn, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and Space Mountain.
They're tired and it's only mid-afternoon.
"Let's go take a nap before tonight," Steve suggests and Eddie agrees and consults the map to get them out of the park.
Back in the hotel room, refreshed and awake, they are both finishing up getting ready. Well, Steve is ready and dressed and Eddie is doing what can only be described as primping in front of the mirror in the hotel room. Steve is amused, usually it's him fussing over his clothes and face.
"You look great," Steve finally says, because they aren't going to have time to eat first if Eddie doesn't hurry up.
He does look good. He used Steve's shampoo and conditioner again, and Steve's just going to start leaving it in the shower when they stop, so Eddie can just use it if he wants to, whenever. So his hair is good and his clothes, well, he looks like Eddie. Jeans, leather jacket, t-shirt of a band Steve’s never heard of before. It's standard issue, so Steve isn't completely sure what he's fussing over.
He's looked exactly like this more days than not, but Steve is letting him do his thing, whatever that is, exactly. Eddie does look softer today, the leather looks more worn in, he thinks this is a different jacket from his everyday one, once he really looks at it. Steve wants to touch it. Maybe wear it, and that makes him feel stupid. He’d look like an imposter in Eddie’s leather, he’s certain of that.
Eddie picked out Steve's clothes, and it was part of what took so long. It was like he just now realized he hated everything Steve owns. Steve could have told him that months ago. Of course he hates the polos and the crisp jeans.
He'd finally picked out a plain white t-shirt and the black Members Only jacket they bought at a thrift store, and a black studded belt, from Eddie's own luggage. The belt is a little much, but Steve would have worn anything at that point just to move it along. And Eddie said his brown belt would clash, so Steve just went with it.
"We're reclaiming these," Eddie had said, handing Steve the jeans with the ripped out knees from the bar fight.
Steve didn't even realize they still had them, thought they'd probably been thrown away.
"You earned this badass look," Eddie assured and Steve isn't convinced that's true, but okay.
Steve looks down at the knees, picks at the frayed edges of the damaged denim.
Looking back at Eddie in the mirror, Steve asks, "You ready?" and Eddie nods.
They purposefully stayed close enough so they could walk to the club. They find a little taqueria and eat sitting on a divider wall along the sidewalk. There are other metalheads standing around doing the same thing, so they weren’t the only ones that had this idea. But it’s so good.
They ordered different things so they could share and Eddie feeds him a bite of what he’d picked, and Steve licks Eddie's fingers which makes Eddie laugh. Steve returns the favor and Eddie bites him. He had that coming.
He’s flirting with Eddie, he realizes, and thinks he should probably knock it off, but Eddie is smiling at him, so maybe it’s not a totally bad idea after all.
Eddie nearly combusts when Metallica makes a surprise appearance. They definitely weren’t on the bill, and they play before Metal Church, as a surprise opener. The small club stage seems to be filled with the drum kit, like it’s too small to hold an act this big.
They play Master of Puppets right near the top of the setlist. Part of the power in the club goes out during it, killing the amps. They get started again, and it happens, again. Taking some of the lights with it this time. Eddie grasps Steve’s hand for a second in the dark.
Steve doesn’t know if it was out of excitement, or fear. As much as Eddie loves this song, it has to have some bad memories attached to it, too. So Steve squeezes back until Eddie pulls his hand away.
They start again, it fails again. It takes the band several tries to get going with the song, the club's power is not cooperating at all. It’s made this already long song, extremely long. Steve can tell Eddie doesn’t mind, he’s enamored.
The third time, they just keep playing, powering through the loss of the amps, the drummer beating the shit out of the drums to amplify them on their own. At one point they’ve only got the drums and the bass, both guitar amps are out and so is the mic. Eddie is screaming the lyrics along with the crowd, while they try to sort out the electrical issues on stage. Steve is looking at him, not the stage.
"Most metal ever!" Eddie shouts in his direction.
Steve smiles, leans over to speak directly into his ear, "I don't know, I've heard it played with better sound,” teasing him.
Eddie waves him off, but can't help blushing.
They stumble back into their room late at night, tipsy and it's Steve that falls asleep fully dressed this time. He wakes up a few hours later and strips down, the studded belt had been digging into his arm uncomfortably.
They sleep in until nearly check-out time, and when they get in the car, Eddie is reading some magazine he picked up for free in the hotel lobby, “Oooh, this looks good, let’s eat here before we leave the area,” he says, showing the In-N-Out Burger ad to Steve.
“Sure, where is it?”
“I’m not sure, I think I need to call this number to get the locations, I guess.”
So they stop and do just that, Eddie jotting crude notes up his own arm, for a lack of a better surface.
“Okay, that’s less helpful than I’d hoped, I don’t know the layout of California well enough for this to mean shit. Hold on,” Eddie says, running into the convenience store they’d stopped at to use the phone.
He comes back a few minutes later.
“Okay, the clerk says there’s one just a few miles away, I should have just asked in the first place,” he laughs, “we’re supposed to get double-doubles, animal style.”
“What’s animal style?”
“No idea, but it’s not on the menu, so we just have to ask for it.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t messing with you?” Steve asks, skeptical. This sounds made up.
“I don’t think so? He seemed sincere,” Eddie says.
The clerk had given them good directions and they had no issues finding it.
Steve makes Eddie order. He’s not making a fool out of himself if this kid was playing a practical joke on Eddie.
Eddie comes back with a tray of food, “Ha! Animal style,” he says, proud of himself.
It looks incredibly messy. It is, but it’s fantastic.
The ocean is beautiful. Eddie steers them along the water, down Pacific Coast Highway for a long stretch of road, with plans to follow it as far as they can get today.
Steve watches Eddie drive and his heart thumps a little faster in his chest.
He looks happy. At peace. Seeing him comfortable behind the wheel of Steve's car, one hand stretched out, gripping it at twelve o'clock, does something to Steve.
Eddie's not wearing all black, for once, but instead the red devil shirt Steve picked out at one of the thrift stores. They’re both wearing red today, like they coordinated without discussing it.
Steve has the urge to reach over and rub Eddie's thigh, touch his free hand resting there. He doesn't do it, but the thought is there, intrusive. Like the little devil on Eddie's shirt has hopped onto Steve's shoulder and is whispering in his ear, c'mon, do it.
Steve doesn't know what to do with these new feelings. He doesn't know if Eddie even feels the same way. He thinks maybe so, but maybe he's wrong and he would just make Eddie uncomfortable if he tried to act on it. Eddie can be gay without liking Steve, Steve knows that. He’s not so cocky as to believe everyone wants him. In fact, historically, he's gotten the message that very few people have wanted him directing that kind of attention their way for more than a night. Nancy sure as hell didn't, when it came down to it. Maybe Eddie wouldn't either.
It's one thing to be rejected by a string of girls, he's beyond used to that, but to be rejected by Eddie? He's not sure he'd survive the embarrassment. Especially trapped with him in a car. There'd be nowhere to hide from it.
Eddie eventually pulls over so they can get out and enjoy the beach for a little while. It's the middle of the afternoon, and despite it being November, it feels warm with the sun shining down on them.
They sit in the sand, hands brushing every so often between them. Steve feels fourteen. If Eddie were a girl, he'd just lean over and try to kiss him. He wants to do it, and he really does think Eddie would kiss him back, probably. Maybe. Hopefully. If this isn't sexual electricity between them, then Steve desperately needs something inside himself recalibrated.
They spent as much time on the beach as they could, so it's well past dark and they haven't stopped for the night yet.
Eddie says he needs to piss, so Steve checks the road sign ahead: Sunnydale, 5 miles.
"Can you make it five miles?"
"Uh, yeah, I'm not a child," Eddie says, annoyed.
Eddie runs into the gas station and Steve starts to fill up the tank. He didn't really need gas yet, but they're here, so he might as well.
He feels like he's being watched while he pumps the gas. He doesn't see anything, or anyone, but something doesn't feel right. The hair is standing up on the back of his neck. This whole town feels off. It feels like Hawkins, like there's evil under his feet.
He wants out of here, right now.
"We staying here tonight?" Eddie asks, coming out with a drink for each of them and the receipt for the gas.
"No, let's go a little further," Steve says. He doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He can't believe Eddie can't feel it. Maybe Steve's just going crazy.
He circles it on the map, just in case.
They're driving late into the night. Steve's getting a little punch-drunk, and Eddie’s getting snippy, which is the exact opposite combination that they usually have going on, so they need to find somewhere to stop soon. Steve doesn't want this to go south, not now.
They make it to Santa Barbara and find a motel room.
Steve watches Eddie wash his face, brush his teeth at the sink in the bedroom. It's one of those motels where the sink isn't actually in the bathroom, which Steve thinks is weird.
He wants to crowd up behind Eddie, put his hands on him, bury his face in Eddie's neck, but he settles for just staring. If Eddie thinks he's being weird, he hasn't said so.
Eddie
Eddie can feel Steve's eyes on him, and it's unsettling. He knows, down deep, what's happening, but he's trying to ignore it. He's scared to be wrong. He's scared to be right.
He won't cross any lines first. As far as he knows, Steve doesn't mess around with men. So if Steve is just curious and wants to experiment now that he knows Eddie is gay, Steve's going to have to make that crystal fucking clear.
If Steve feels more than curiosity, he's going to have to make that clear, too.
Eddie will not be the one going out on that limb. No fucking way. He isn't even sure he wants to encourage Steve to do it, either. That way can only lie madness and eventual heartache. Eddie is absolutely certain.
He would love to touch Steve, to have Steve touch him, but he's sure it'll break him when it's over. It might be easier to never know what that feels like, than to know and have to let him go.
Steve wants a wife and a huge passel of kids, and Eddie knows he's the absolute furthest you can get from that suburban dream life. That means anything he gets from Steve will be temporary, and he's not sure he has the constitution to withstand that.
Steve takes his turn getting ready for bed and Eddie tries to pretend to be asleep, but he can't hold still long enough for it to be believable.
"Night, Eddie," Steve says into the darkness.
Eddie wants to ignore him, pretend he really is asleep, but he can't do that to him, "Night, Steve."
Maybe tomorrow will feel more normal, maybe whatever temporary insanity Steve is clearly suffering from will course correct before they collide.
Notes:
These are the rainbow swim trunks. The internet can't decide if they are from the 80s or 90s, but picturing both Robin making Steve buy them AND Eddie wearing them, was a hoot. And wet, they had to be obscene. They are white, lol. ;) The rainbow flag was first used as a gay pride symbol in 1978, but wasn't widely used until the early 90s. So I'm thinking midwestern Steve might not have recognized it as such in 1986.
Here is that Master of Puppets performance at Jezebel's. The whole show is available to watch on YouTube. They really did have persistent power issues.
Watch people joke around while unveiling the “erection” of the West Hollywood sign in April 1986. Dick jokes are timeless, lol. According to the WEHO Times, the sign stood from 1986 until around 1991.
Here’s a short TV piece on National Gay Archives from 1986. I had no idea something like this existed in 1986. I'm glad I stumbled across it!
If you've wondered what the Universal backlot tour looked like in 1986, someone uploaded a home video on Youtube from December 1986.
Fun fact: 1986 was the year Dole Whips were introduced at Disneyland! Also, Derry, Maine was going to complete the trifecta of horror from other universes, but Stephen King exists in Stranger Things canon, so I left it out.
Photo credits: Tower Records from Vintage Los Angeles. I am not convinced this picture isn’t actually of the San Francisco location. I’ve seen it attributed to both cities. Sunset Strip by Pete Thousand Peaks. La Brea Tar Pits from Creepy LA. National Gay Archives from the National Endowment for the Humanities. West Hollywood sign from WEHO Dems. I cannot find my original source on the Jezebel’s ad. Reverse image search isn’t finding it. I think I found it on Pinterest. The actual calendar of events was from July 1986, and I just doctored Metal Church in. Disneyland guide from Touring Guides. Black Flag guy on Pinterest. Ticket stub from actual show from Metallipromo. In-N-Out 1986 Ad from Pinterest. Joe on the sand from mysteryofamour on Tumblr. Sunnydale sign from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Chapter 14: The Longest Time
Notes:
Thanks so much for sticking with this slow burn! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
once i thought my innocence was gone,
now i know that happiness goes on
The Longest Time, Billy Joel
Steve
The sequoia trees in the park are enormous. Steve can’t even grasp the scope of them. Eddie is clearly in awe. He's going to have a crick in his neck for all the looking up he's doing.
They feel alone out here, driving the winding roads through the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. They sit on the hood of the car, just looking at them looming overhead. The drive is beautiful, peaceful, flanked by the endless line of trees stretching far into the sky.
There’s not much traffic this time of year, it seems. It’s luckily way too warm for snow, and Steve is glad. He’s not sure how he’s going to fare when it comes to driving in any eventual snow they are sure to run into in the coming weeks. Maybe he’ll be able to convince Eddie to take the wheel.
Steve retrieves the small cooler, pulls out the gas station sandwiches they bought to have for lunch. It wasn’t the best selection, but they didn’t really have any other options for food in the park. Steve hands Eddie two packets of mustard, no mayo, exactly how he knows he prefers.
There's a six-pack of Coke under the ice.
Eddie pulls out the Big Grab of Doritos and the can of Pringles from his backpack, and a whole handful of different candy bars.
They eat at the picnic area. It's quiet and comfortable, just sitting together.
They stop along the road at Tunnel Rock and take pictures of each other standing under it.
Steve takes a picture of Eddie driving his car through the huge fallen tree with a hole cut into it, just for that purpose. Eddie is clearly loving every second of being in the park. He’s in his element, somehow. Just watching him look out the window as they drive through the park is worth it. They are surrounded by trees that have lived so many lifetimes, and Eddie’s soaking it all in. Steve thinks Eddie probably looks out of place, at first glance. He must look that way to anyone else seeing him for the first time. But Steve’s seen Eddie in a lot of places now, and he looks at home here. At peace.
"Holy shit, that's a big tree," Eddie says, looking way, way up at the General Sherman tree.
Steve takes some pictures of Eddie in front of it, before Eddie tells him to hang on and runs away with the camera.
Eddie is over across the walkway, presumably sweet talking another tourist into taking a picture of them together in front of the tree, together. Steve can see him miming up, clearly telling her he wants the whole tree. So she's really, really far back. As far back as she can get, leaning against the railing.
Afterwards, Eddie runs to meet her, thank her and get the camera back.
Eddie
"Remind me to quit smoking," Eddie says, bending over to put his hands on his knees. He takes off his leather jacket and Steve takes it from him, tossing it over his shoulder.
At this elevation, the change in altitude is not at all fun going back up from the General Sherman, and it's murdering Eddie's lungs. He feels like he's dying. He's oxygen deprived, he's sure of it. He's not totally sure he's going to make it back up to the parking lot. It's fucking embarrassing.
Steve is standing beside him, fine.
"Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay!" Eddie snaps.
Steve takes a picture of him doubled over.
"Oh, fuck you," Eddie laughs, then coughs.
This is very attractive, he’s certain, but he can’t care if he can’t breathe.
They finally make it back up to the car and he sits in the passenger seat. Steve puts his leather jacket in the backseat.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he answers, he’s embarrassed, but he’ll live, he supposes, “that was weird.”
“You’ve probably never been at an elevation like that. The sign said the air is thin.”
“I thought that was for old people!”
Steve laughs, “I don’t think it was exclusively for old people.”
“It made me feel even more out of shape than I am. That’s embarrassing as shit. You were just fine and dandy.”
“I’m a swimmer, Eddie. Or I was. That builds lung capacity. I’m not in any better shape than you are these days, trust me.”
“Okay, I won’t do anything drastic like quit smoking then,” Eddie laughs.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t want to get crazy,” Steve says, patting him on the shoulder.
They pull over at another little lookout spot. It’s gorgeous, looking out over the hills and valleys below. Steve climbs up on the trunk, settling in. Eddie sits beside him. They are all by themselves, surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery Steve’s ever seen in his entire life.
It’s warm for November. Steve watches Eddie soak up the sun, face turned towards it, hair slightly blowing in the breeze. He’s beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, Steve thinks, not just his looks.
He can’t stop himself, so Steve reaches over and touches Eddie’s arm, startling him, just a little. But Eddie smiles at him.
“Gorgeous, huh?” Eddie says, motioning around them.
“Gorgeous,” Steve agrees, but isn’t looking anywhere other than at Eddie.
Steve doesn't know what makes him brave enough to do it now, maybe he just can't stand to wait another second, but he leans over and telegraphs that he intends to kiss Eddie. Giving Eddie ample time to dodge it, if he wants to. He must not want to, because Eddie kisses him back, leaning into it.
"This okay?" Steve asks, pulling back a little. Wanting to make sure he isn't overstepping.
"Yeah," Eddie answers, leaning forward to kiss him again.
It’s soft, almost chaste, but it sets Steve on fire.
They hear the soft rumble of another car coming up the road in the distance and reluctantly pull apart.
Eddie's just looking him in the eyes and Steve smiles as he brings up his hand and smooths it over Eddie's hair, cupping the back of his neck for a brief second before letting go.
They drive further into the park and Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it.
Eddie hides behind his curtain of hair, suddenly shy. Steve's finally rendered him speechless.
It's adorable.
Eddie
Eddie doesn't think his heart rate has leveled back off since Steve kissed him. He wonders if he should be concerned about having a heart attack.
The uphill climb back up from the General Sherman paired with that kiss is going to do permanent damage, he's pretty damn sure.
Steve's big hand is just resting on Eddie's thigh, like it has always belonged there. Maybe it has. Maybe Steve is what he's been waiting for his whole, fucked up life.
There was no avoiding this, Eddie realizes. Steve being brave enough to do it was inevitable. He’s glad, he wants him more than he can wrap his head around. It’s big, too big, just like the giant trees surrounding them.
Steve
They walk up into the trees at one of the spots where there is parking available, Eddie stretching his arms out in a hugging motion, to show how huge the tree trunk is. Steve is pretty sure they’re by themselves, the parking lot was empty, so he crowds Eddie up against the tree when he turns around. Gripping his waist with one hand, Steve braces the other on the tree trunk as he kisses Eddie again. And again.
If he didn’t think it was certainly a federal offense, he’d carve their initials in this tree, marking this moment in time.
The sun is setting soon, so they need to make their way back down to the motel. Steve doesn’t especially want to navigate those winding, cliff adjacent roads in the dark. But Steve can’t seem to let Eddie go. It feels like he’s finally caught magic in a bottle, and he’s scared he’s going to shatter it.
Eddie
They finally get back to the little motel at the base of the park. Steve is standing in front of him at the foot of one of the double beds.
“You smell so good,” Steve says, burying his face in Eddie's neck.
Eddie digs his fingers into Steve's back, pulling him closer by the shirt.
“Must be my deodorant? Or motel soap? Fresh air?” Eddie says, like they are questions, but he tilts his head, giving Steve more access. "I don’t wear fancy cologne or anything.”
Steve pulls Eddie even closer still, wrapping his large hand around the side of Eddie’s neck.
Eddie melts into the touch.
“I think it’s just you.”
"Are you horny for my musk, Harrington?"
"Little bit, I think," Steve says, laughing softly.
They make out on the bed like two innocent teenagers, an innocence that they both know neither one of them have had in a very, very long time. A time before monsters and murders. They kiss until their lips are red and swollen and they've given each other a little beard burn. Eddie doesn't think he's ever done this. He’s never made out, just for the sake of making out, with no rushing to the next, bigger thing. All his other sexual encounters with men have been clandestine meetings. Fast, dirty, desperate.
Steve Harrington is gentle. Eddie doesn't know if it's just a habit from being with women, or if it's just how Steve is made. There's a kindness in the way he's pressing kisses into Eddie's skin, slow as molasses. No hurry, no rush to be anywhere other than right where they are, together. Steve isn't grabbing at him, his hands haven't groped any lower than his shoulders. Eddie didn’t even know that was something he wanted until it was happening. He’d have said he preferred it hot, hard and dirty.
Maybe he just prefers Steve.
This isn't an experiment, Eddie knew that from the first kiss. It was way too tender for that. Boys who want to experiment with him have never been that soft, at least in Eddie's experience. So he's had to push that knowledge to the back of his mind or it'll swallow him whole.
Steve’s heart is on his sleeve and Eddie feels a little unqualified to be trusted to handle it with enough care. Nobody’s trusted him with anything like that before, and he thinks maybe Steve’s making a huge mistake. Not because he’s a man, but because he’s a giant fuckup.
It had been his own heart he was worried about, before.
After, he now has different concerns.
Steve's kissing his neck and it tickles, he can't help giggling.
"What?" Steve asks, pulling back, smiling at him.
"Your mustache is tickling me," he tells him, cupping his cheek, brushing his thumb over the coarse hair above Steve's lip.
"Sorry," Steve says, but doesn't look all that sorry.
Steve pulls his shirt off, tosses it over onto the other bed.
He's seen Steve shirtless so many times that he didn't think he'd be affected. But, shit, he was wrong, so wrong. Now that he can want him, can have him, it's like he's letting himself really look at Steve for the first time. Steve's biceps are defined, he's thin, but still solid. His back is broad, strong. There's nothing scrawny about him. And his chest hair is sexy. It's all really working for Eddie. Even the stupid mustache he kind of loves to hate.
Eddie’s in trouble with this one, but he knew that already. Has known it for a while, if he’s honest.
They are somehow able to pry themselves apart long enough to go grab a bite to eat at a little bar and grill. Eddie feels like what they’ve been doing is literally written all over their faces. Steve is not a subtle man, and the look on his face is doing things to Eddie.
“Stop it,” Eddie says, kicking him gently under the table.
“What? I’m not doing anything!” he argues back, but he smiles. He knows damn well what he’s doing. He’s an asshole. But Eddie wouldn’t change that if he could.
Eddie pays the check and Steve follows him back out to the car.
"You want to share, or?" Steve asks, after comes out of the bathroom, ready for bed. He looks nervous. Eddie doesn't think he's asking anything other than where Eddie wants him to sleep tonight.
He wants to sleep beside Steve.
Pulling back the bedding, he stretches his arm out in an invitation. Steve takes it. He curls into Eddie's side.
Steve tucks his face in Eddie's neck, "Other side of the parks tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, stretching a little, so he can kiss the top of Steve's head.
When Eddie wakes in the morning, Steve has shifted so he's sleeping on his stomach, but has his arm outstretched over Eddie's waist. Eddie's never woken up to someone just wanting to be near him. It's comforting.
As much as he wants to do filthy things to Steve, and he really does want to, he also thinks he wants this just as much.
It's nice to feel wanted and safe at the same time, and he's fairly certain he's never felt as safe in his life as he does with Steve. That's a scary realization to come to, and it's far too early to feel anything more than cautious excitement here.
He'd been so scared to tell him he was gay, terrified of the fallout. He feels stupid now, that he'd been so in his head. Even if Steve hadn't reciprocated his feelings, he never would have been in any danger of losing him, or being hurt by him, he understands that now.
He's safe with Steve. He knows that like he knows his own name.
He feels when Steve wakes up, and Eddie rolls over onto his side, and Steve does the same, so they can sort of lay there and hug. Steve's slow to wake up, Eddie knows this by now, so he just hooks his chin over Steve's shoulder and is quiet while Steve struggles to join the land of the living.
Later, Steve comes out of the bathroom clean shaven.
"You didn't have to do that," Eddie says, kissing him.
"I just grew it at first to annoy you and I don't really want to do that anymore," Steve admits, tangling his hand in Eddie's hair.
"Well, it's nice to see your face, Harrington. It's a good face," Eddie says, then lets Steve kiss him.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Eddie asks, leaning really close to Steve's face, "I kinda liked it."
Steve laughs, and pulls Eddie in by the shoulders, kissing him through the smile on his face.
"I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist it,” Steve teases, “I'll grow you another one, someday."
“Can’t wait,” Eddie answers.
They are finally able to pull away from each other to head to the Kings Canyon side park entrance, but they are stupid and giddy. They stop at the Big Stump Grove when they enter the park from the opposite side as they did yesterday.
“This is the Mark Twain tree, remember that cross section we saw in New York, at the museum?”
Eddie can tell by Steve’s face that he definitely does not, so Eddie continues, “This is the stump of that tree.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Steve asks, hands on his hips, “I think you’re just making shit up.”
“I can read, Harrington, believe it or not. They cut down this tree, just to prove that trees really grow this big.”
“That seems kind of shitty and backwards, to kill this old ass tree just to prove it was alive.”
“It was like a hundred years ago, so it’s not like most people could just walk up to them like we are,” Eddie adds, giving Steve his hand so he can climb the little ladder up onto the trunk.
They see the General Grant Grove and Steve Harrington is just looking at him doofily, and Eddie is so fucking charmed.
It’s hard to pay attention to anything besides each other, and Eddie wants to put his hands all over him. They need to get back to the motel room sooner rather than later today. He doesn't think this dam is going to hold much longer.
When they are finally back in the room, Steve nudges Eddie back onto the bed, "Can I?"
Eddie doesn't know exactly what the question is, but the answer is yes. He nods.
Steve unbuckles his belt, well he tries, it's a little tight through the handcuff buckle if you aren't expecting it.
“Wait,” Eddie says, hands stilling Steve’s motions, “I have scars. Just so you know.”
“I know, me too,” Steve answers.
“Worse than you, I think, so, just don’t be shocked.”
“I won’t,” Steve assures, “it’s okay, Eddie. It’s just me.”
Eddie nods, letting Steve’s hands go back to work.
Finally Steve gets it unbuckled and gets Eddie's jeans open, "Up."
Eddie lifts up, and he's stripped naked from the waist down. He takes off his own shirt, because it feels stupid to leave it on.
His dick is very interested in this new development, laying hot and hard against his belly.
Steve licks his hand and gives Eddie a firm stroke.
Steve
The angle is weird and backwards, but it's not totally unlike doing it for himself, so he just pretends he knows how to do it this way and hopes for the best. Eddie doesn't seem to have any complaints.
Eddie is scarred, but not to the extent Steve had imagined when Eddie stopped to warn him. Steve thought maybe the bats had bitten his dick off, as serious as Eddie had seemed.
They definitely didn’t, it’s a nice dick as far as Steve can tell. He doesn’t have any experience outside of his own to compare it to, but he has no complaints.
There are puckered scars on Eddie’s hip, where there hadn’t been enough flesh left to sew the wounds neatly closed. And there is a jagged scar across his groin, through his pubic hair, where Steve figures hair probably won’t ever grow back. It looks like it must have taken lots of stitches. Steve brushes his thumb over it, gently. If he remembers high school anatomy at all, and he's not sure he does, but he thinks that's probably scarily close to Eddie's femoral artery. Steve swallows, hating how close they came to losing him. But Eddie survived. Any and all scars are a small price to pay for that.
Steve keeps stroking Eddie, watching him squirm.
His own dick is so hard it hurts, pressing against his fly, zipper digging in.
"Sorry, hold on," Steve says, letting go and reaching down to undo his own pants.
"Shit, that's hot," Eddie says, leaning up onto his elbows, watching.
Steve thinks Eddie must realize he intends to just relieve the pressure, because he says, "No, take them off."
Steve does what Eddie says, strips naked, trying not to be embarrassed as Eddie watches him do it.
"Holy shit, Steve, yes," Eddie says, reaching a hand out and wrapping it around Steve, giving his dick a long, hard stroke.
Steve throws his head back and moans, it's been too long since anyone else has touched him and now it's Eddie.
It's Eddie.
He isn't sure what to do, but all he wants to do is touch Eddie everywhere, so he moves so he can cover Eddie's body with his own, lining their cocks up. Even with the precum, there isn't enough slip and Steve looks around, like he's going to find lotion or Vaseline just sitting around in a motel room.
"My shaving bag," Eddie says, and Steve retrieves it.
He watches Eddie fish out a tube of KY, giving them both a good stroke with it after squeezing some on his hand.
Steve covers Eddie's body with his own again and holy fuck that's good. That's what they needed, and Steve thrusts against him, pressing their mouths together in a hard kiss.
Eddie
Steve laying on top of him, is all Eddie's ever needed, he's pretty fucking sure.
His hand is slippery, but he digs his fingers into Steve's back, hanging on as Steve wraps his hand around both of them and thrusts against him, again and again.
He comes with a strangled noise and takes Steve over the edge with him.
Steve strokes them through it, until it's too much and Eddie gets him to pull his hand away.
"Holy shit," Steve laughs, giggles really, and flops down beside him.
Eddie smiles at him. After a minute, Eddie asks, "Can you get me a wet washcloth?"
"Oh, yes, sorry!" Steve says, hopping up and going into the bathroom.
Eddie enjoys the view as he goes.
"A warm one!" Eddie hollers.
Steve comes back into view, this side is a good view, too.
"Duh, I'm not a monster," and proceeds to gently wipe up the mess on Eddie's stomach with the warm washcloth.
When he's done, he crawls back in bed. Rolls onto his side right next to Eddie and buries his face in Eddie's neck. His soft, spent dick is pressed into Eddie's bare thigh, and Eddie can feel the residual wetness at the tip. It might be the most intimate thing that's happened so far.
Eddie swallows. Steve got off and he's still staying close, still wants to touch him. That's new, and something Eddie can't afford to unpack right now.
Steve
The next morning, Steve is just enjoying sneaking glances at Eddie beside him in the car as they make their way across California.
“Slow down up here,” Eddie says, and Steve starts easing on the brake pedal.
“What? Why?”
“This is the intersection where James Dean was killed in Little Bastard,” Eddie tells him and sure enough, there at the junction of Highway 41 and Highway 46 is what Steve can only describe as trash along the side of the fence, a makeshift memorial. There’s a bra hanging on the fence post.
“Do you want to stop for a picture?” Steve asks, slowing further.
“Yes, but I didn’t want you to think I was a freak,” Eddie laughs.
“Oh, I know you’re a freak,” Steve teases as he pulls the car over, “but trust me, I’m on board.” He presses a kiss against Eddie’s lips.
Eddie smiles and hands him the camera as he hops out of the car.
They switched seats at the memorial, so Eddie drives them back to the coast, and it’s so pretty, even in winter. It’s warm and sunny, and they stop and eat at a little place right along the shore on their way to Big Sur. The diner has windows that overlook the ocean, and Steve keeps knocking his feet against Eddie's, just touching him any way he can.
They've eaten so many meals together now, but somehow this one feels different. There's nothing special about it, not really, but it feels different, Steve can't possibly explain it.
Eddie
They hang out down by the water in Big Sur and Steve climbs up on a rock. Eddie thinks he’s stunning, and can’t believe Steve actually seems interested in him back. It’s fucking surreal. If he had access to a time traveling Delorean and went back in time to tell high school Eddie to hang on, that King Steve was in his future, there’s no way he’d buy into that utter bullshit. He’d believe he would nearly be killed by bats before he’d believe Steve Harrington would give him the time of day, even as a friend, let alone more.
When Steve walks back over, shoes in hand, Eddie leans as close as he can in public, just wanting to be near him.
“Wanna go find a room?” Steve asks and Eddie’s scared he might snap his own neck with the emphatic nodding he’s doing.
Steve
Steve gets them a room at the first roadside motel they come across.
Eddie swings open the door to the room and stops short, “I don’t think this is our room.”
“What? Why not?” Steve asks, poking his head around to see into the room. It looks fine to him. It's clean, there's nobody else’s belongings strewn about.
“Did you only get one bed?”
“I mean, yeah? Do we need two beds?” Steve asks, taking a step back from the door.
“For appearances, yes. For...sleeping, no," Eddie says and Steve feels stupid. That didn't even occur to him.
“Sorry, I wasn't thinking," Steve says, "want me to go switch rooms?"
“No," Eddie says, "but you need to learn a little about discretion, Harrington," Eddie laughs.
“Duly noted," Steve says, nudging Eddie on across the threshold and into the room.
Eddie
Eddie has barely put his bags down before Steve is tugging on Eddie’s belt, sliding it out of the handcuff belt buckle, much smoother than last time. He's learning.
Steve is on his knees and it's a fucking sight to behold. Steve's different. In the past, Eddie’s had straight guys think it's somehow less gay if things are only done to them, and not by them.
Apparently, Steve Harrington isn't one of those guys.
Steve is definitely not just taking, if anything Eddie thinks he's the one that's been taking more than his fair share so far.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Eddie laughs, cupping Steve’s head with both of his hands, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair.
Steve smiles at him, that charming smile that gives away all of his intentions.
Eddie watches as Steve pulls him free of his boxers, with a confidence that Eddie thinks is sexy as hell. He’s sure Steve’s never done this before.
“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie assures, scratching Steve's scalp gently.
“I want to,” Steve says, and Eddie can tell that’s true, “now take your shirt off, I want to see all of you,” Steve directs and Eddie complies, tossing it on the desk beside them.
Steve runs his hand up Eddie's stomach, to his chest. Brushing his thumb over each of his nipples.
"That one has no feeling anymore," Eddie says, and he isn't sure why he volunteered that information, Steve definitely didn't ask. But it feels strange to feel nothing. He's still not used to it.
"Does it hurt?"
"No. It doesn't feel like anything, really."
Steve nods, "Do you want me to not touch you there?"
"You can, just don't expect a big reaction," Eddie tells him.
Steve touches it gently again, and Eddie is pretty sure Steve's just letting him know that he isn't disgusted by his mangled body. It's nice. Kind.
Steve finally takes his hand away from his chest, licks it and starts stroking him, slowly but firmly. It’s good. So good. Eddie grabs onto the edge of the desk, to try and keep himself upright. Steve kisses his scarred skin, nose pressed firmly into his pubic hair. Eddie can feel Steve’s breath tickling him as he’s inhaling his scent, and if that isn’t just pushing buttons Eddie didn’t even know he had.
When Steve finally guides his cock into his mouth, Eddie grips the edge of the wooden desk tighter, “Jesus H. Christ, just like that.”
Steve hums in agreement, and Eddie thinks he’s good at this for never having done it before, he has to be applying knowledge of what he likes done to himself. Eddie takes note. Eddie makes sure to hold his hips still, to let Steve have control of whatever he wants to do, completely.
Steve might not know what he's doing, but he's making up for it with enthusiasm and an air of extreme confidence.
Watching Steve Harrington blow him like he’d die if he wasn’t doing it, wrecks Eddie, fast.
Eddie pets Steve's hair, "I'm close." It’s embarrassingly fast, but the visual alone is way too much.
Instead of pulling off, like he’d expected, Steve takes that as an invitation to take him deeper, but is overconfident in his skills, and chokes himself. It all happens so fast. He keeps his grip with his hand, but pulls his mouth back to compose himself and Eddie comes on his face.
Eddie's eyes are huge, shocked, "Oh shit, I didn't mean to do that, sorry!"
Steve's eyes are watering, but he starts laughing hysterically. "I'm pretty sure I did that. I'm obviously really good at this, an overconfident idiot, like always," he finally says, wiping his face with Eddie’s shirt that Eddie had grabbed off the desk while Steve was having his slightly unhinged giggle fit.
"Hey, no complaints here," Eddie says, and he means it, "I didn't get it in your eyes, did I?"
"No, I'm good. Embarrassed, but good. I’m such an idiot, goddamn," he says, but he’s laughing, “as if you haven’t figured that out already.”
Eddie takes him by the shoulders, "You did great." Then he leans down and kisses him, "That's every wet dream I've ever had," Eddie says.
"Yeah?" Steve asks, his ears are tipped red, his cheeks flushed.
"Absolutely. I mean, I would have asked permission first, ideally. I'm pretty sure you don’t just come on someone’s face without asking,” Eddie laughs, “but that was so good, Steve. Unexpected, for sure. You get extra points for style and unpredictability."
Steve laughs, “I’ll charge headfirst into anything, apparently, even if I’m woefully underqualified.”
Eddie laughs, “I’m not concerned about your qualifications, trust me,” Eddie tells him, helping him to his feet.
Steve is blushing, but he’s definitely on board when Eddie guides him against the wall to repay the favor. Steve tilts his head back, tangles his hands in his own hair, as Eddie works him over. He feels Steve's thigh shaking against him, and he can't believe he's making Steve Harrington weak in the knees.
Shit. This is the hottest thing he's ever experienced in his entire life.
Steve
"I kinda thought it would be gross," Steve says, ducking his head against Eddie's bare chest as they lay in bed.
"Well, we didn't stick the landing, so there's still time to be grossed out," Eddie laughs.
Steve had licked his lips, and while it was a little bitter, maybe, he's pretty sure he's not grossed out by it.
Steve thinks for a second, "It was really just, like, skin. Like, sexy skin. But skin. It just tasted clean. I don't know what I expected. I'm an idiot, don't listen to me."
All he knows is he liked it. Liked the hardness sliding over his lips, his tongue. How the soft skin moved up and down over the hardness. The slight muskiness. The faint saltiness that came later, that he is sure had to be Eddie's precum. It got him hard, just like going down on a girl always has, and he wants to do it again.
"I want to do it again," Steve says. Steve's competitive. He knows he can do better. He can learn.
"Well, I'm going to need a minute, sweetheart," Eddie laughs.
Steve gives him his minute, but as soon as Eddie's on board again, Steve's between Eddie's legs, hand and mouth working together.
Eddie
Steve has straddled Eddie's leg and is rutting against him while he goes down on him for the second time in an hour. It's a lot.
"Jesus Christ, Steve," Eddie says, clenching his fists. It's really riding the edge of feeling fucking amazing and hurting, just a little.
He's never experienced this before. It's always been: I'm done, you're done, we're done. He’s never had someone just want to keep touching him like this.
He doesn't hate it.
But Steve is going to kill him, if this is what he's signed himself up for. His sex drive is getting a crash course in Steve Harrington and it's definitely not used to it.
It takes a lot longer than the first time, but when he comes, Steve swallows and pulls off with a goddamn self-satisfied smile.
He knew there was a chance Steve Harrington was going to kill him on this trip, but this is definitely not the way he predicted it would happen.
Steve
Eddie loves seeing the redwoods as much as he loved seeing the sequoias. They follow the trail to the Redwood Deck. There are picnic tables around, so they just sit, surrounded by the giant trees.
“I could live here. Just be in the woods, away from everyone and everything,” Eddie says.
“Hopefully, I’m an exception,” Steve teases, brushing his thumb across the back of Eddie’s hand.
“You know you are,” Eddie says, eyes soft.
Steve smiles, he thinks that Eddie could never just live in the woods like a recluse. He is far too social for that, he nearly went stir crazy in the boathouse in Hawkins. But Steve understands the general sentiment.
“You want to go for a walk?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. They come to a fork in the road, one way is the river path, the other the nature trail. He makes the hand motion for which one, and Eddie thinks about it. He chooses left and they go left.
It’s hard not to reach out and hold his hand, but there are people here, and Steve knows that’s not something Eddie would be okay with.
“I want to get a tattoo before we go home,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles. He likes the idea of this trip making its mark on Eddie. It’s definitely making its mark on Steve.
Eddie doesn't seem to care what he gets, just something. Somewhere. To commemorate the trip.
Steve has a fleeting, wild thought to get one with him, but knows that's not the best idea in the world. If he still wants one when they get home, he will get one then.
He doesn't really think he's a tattoo guy. At least not on himself. On Eddie? That’s a different story.
The fork in the road wasn’t actually the choice they thought it was, since it loops to the other side to lead them right back to the Redwood Deck, so they get to see each side.
As soon as they get back in the car, Steve takes Eddie’s hand, like he’s been itching to do all day. He runs his fingers over Eddie’s rings, over the blunt edges of his nails, just mapping how Eddie’s hand feels in his.
Henderson, California is just a little neighborhood outside of Palo Alto, but they have a cute little sign and Eddie poses in front of it with a big smile.
They've hit more Hendersons than they'd expected to, and hope Dustin is getting a kick out of the pictures they keep sending.
It isn't much further into San Francisco, so they decide to keep going until they get there.
Eddie
Eddie buys a box of condoms and a bottle of lube in the drugstore while Steve is browsing the hairspray aisle. His Farrah Fawcett line has been discontinued and Eddie isn't sure if Steve's going to recover from the trauma of it all.
Eddie has never seen lube just openly available like this in a drugstore before. He knows there’s mail order catalogs and ways to get it, but here it was just on the shelf near the condoms. There were a few actual choices, too. Not just KY, so thank you, San Francisco.
Eddie shoves the sack with the condoms and lube deep into his backpack. He doesn’t know if this thing between them is headed all the way there, but he wants to be prepared, just in case.
Finally Steve comes out of the store with a bag, but he looks a little defeated. He puts it in the trunk. Farrah has clearly let him down.
Notes:
We've made it! It's happening! :p
“I think, like, right out of the gate, like, I’m super confident. But I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just…I mean, it’s a brutal combination.” - Steve Harrington
I think that one little quote was like the best gift for me understanding Steve. Sure, he’s going to jump in with two feet, even if those two feet are tied together and now he’s in way, way over his head. Somebody please help him figure it out, lol.
Farrah Fawcett’s line was discontinued in 1984, I believe. My headcanon is that Hawkins just has old stock, and Steve (and now Dustin) is the only one buying it, lol. Out in the real world, he’s going to have to find something else and that’s tragic.
And KY jelly was only available by prescription until 1980. 1980! I found an article that lubes really weren't available in drugstores until the late 80s and San Francisco was one of the first areas they were more widely available. I am not sure 1986 is even late enough, but I went with it. They deserved some lube, everyone does, haha.
Photo credits: Tunnel log from Parkcation. General Sherman from Wikipedia. Sign from Tipsyfromthetrip. Winding road from Parks & Trips. Tree grove from Buzzfeed. Mark Twain tree stump from National Park Service. Joe from Post Animal Ralphie video. The motel room from a Yahoo article about dirty motel rooms, sorry boys, haha. Redwood Deck from Google Maps.
Chapter 15: Get My Rocks Off
Notes:
Thanks so much, everyone! All the comments, kudos and other support of this fic are so nice! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
i may do you one time,
and i may do you more
i may turn you into something,
that you ain't ready for
Get My Rocks Off, Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show
Steve
Like always, Eddie is reading the paper while they wait for their food to arrive.
"Ha! There's a drive-in showing a double-feature of Smokey and the Bandit and The Cannonball Run tonight,” Eddie tells Steve, not even looking up.
"I don't think I've seen The Cannonball Run," Steve admits.
"Farrah Fawcett is in it. And Burt Reynolds. You wanna go?"
Steve cannot seem to escape Burt Reynolds on this trip. It's like he was mentioned once and now he's everywhere.
"Are you asking me on a date?" Steve asks, voice low, leaning across the table, flirting.
"Can we really call it a date if we're living in each other's back pockets like we are?"
Steve just shrugs, he thinks they can call this anything they want to. A date can be anything they want it to be, he’s been on a million dates. Most of them leading nowhere. Steve wants to date Eddie, whatever that means to them. He wants to touch him, and just be as close to him as he can get. Steve really wants to have sex with Eddie. He feels like it’s all he can think about.
He knows they should probably not rush into this, but surely they can count this entire road trip as one very long date. He's had sex on the first date a lot, he's definitely not above it, so this feels like it was a really long time coming. And he is sure he's never known anyone he's slept with before as well as he knows Eddie. That has to count for something.
So it's more that he doesn’t know if he should just ask, or try to make a move, or what. He doesn’t know how to approach this.
He doesn't know what to expect, or what Eddie will expect from him.
Eddie
They are sitting in the dark car at the drive-in theater. Eddie is trying to pretend he's watching the movie, but Steve is running the tips of his fingers lightly up and down the seam of the crotch of Eddie's jeans.
"Fucking hell, Steve, we're in public," but Eddie spreads his legs wider, can’t help himself.
Eddie thinks his dick has never been this hard in his life. Steve's teasing him. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Steve," Eddie says, letting his head fall against the headrest. He's so fucking close to making a mess of himself.
He covers Steve's hand with his own, "That's so good, but you have to stop."
Steve pulls his hand away, smiling at him, "You ready to go back to the motel yet?"
"Yes. Please."
Steve turns over the ignition and Eddie can feel his pulse hammering in his neck. He realizes Steve still hasn't seen The Cannonball Run.
Steve’s hand wanders again while he’s driving them back to the motel and Eddie desperately wants to grind up into it, but he knows if he does, this will all be over before they even get started.
"Can we…can I?" Steve asks, looking at him with those expressive eyes, from under those lashes.
Eddie's not sure he could tell him no about anything, even if he wanted to at this point. He definitely doesn't want to say no. He nods.
"You want to have sex?" Steve asks, and that's not the clarification he must think it is.
Eddie smirks at him, "Have we not been having sex?" Eddie knows what he means, but he's torturing Steve to see if he'll say it.
"You know what I mean," Steve answers, running his hands up and down Eddie's lower back.
"If you can't say it, you shouldn't be doing it," Eddie teases, leaning into Steve's touch.
"Eddie," Steve says, pushing the hair off Eddie's neck so he can brush his lips against his bare ear, "would you like me to pene-"
"Okay! Uncle, uncle! I'm crying uncle, don't finish that sentence," Eddie laughs, and looks for his backpack, "but, yes, I'd like that. I bought stuff."
"Me too," Steve says, and digs around and pulls out a similar bag.
Eddie can't help laughing, "That poor cashier," realizing they both bought nearly the same items, back to back.
"Bottom picks the music," Eddie states, digging through their stash of tapes. They've all been commingled again at this point.
"I'm pretty sure it is the driver who's supposed to pick the music," Steve counters.
"Nope," Eddie says with ease. Picking something out and sliding it into the portable cassette player.
Getting undressed is a little awkward. It's nothing they haven't seen before, but it feels weird to have a specific plan instead of just going with whatever happens, happens.
Eddie tries to walk Steve through how he’ll need to open him up first. He's kind of embarrassed and not explaining it well, he's pretty sure. Basically asking Steve Harrington to finger him is surreal.
“Yeah, same as with a girl,” Steve says with confidence, and Eddie pushes a hand against Steve's bare chest, pushing him back.
“Not like a girl,” Eddie corrects, wondering how much of an anatomy lesson he’s going to have to give before they can even consider doing this.
Steve cocks his head, scrunches up his whole face, confused, “Anal is different with boys than it is with girls?”
“Well, the prostate,” Eddie says a little dumbly, but that is definitely not what he thought they were talking about. “Wait, hold up, you’ve had anal sex before?” Eddie would have never expected that.
“Some girls in high school would use it as a loophole to stay virgins,” Steve shrugs, “so yeah, a few times.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Steve just shrugs, like he doesn’t have an opinion either way.
“Okay, yeah, like that then,” Eddie agrees.
Steve nods, pushing Eddie back against the bed again.
Steve
Steve squeezes some lube on his fingers and his hand is shaking, just a little.
He's nervous. He's never nervous about sex, but this feels big. He doesn't want to fuck this up, or be bad at it. God, he hopes he’s not bad at it.
"Ready?" He asks, and Eddie nods.
He brushes his slick thumb against Eddie and watches Eddie arch his neck backwards, responding to the touch.
He gently pushes his index finger in, and when Eddie moans the sound goes directly to Steve's dick.
"Fuck, Eddie," he says, leaning over to kiss Eddie's bent knee, the only skin he can easily reach. Eddie’s so tight. Maybe girls were this tight too, he doesn't remember. He just did it, then. He probably didn't even think about it in depth, because there weren’t feelings involved.
He slides his finger in, then out. Adds more lube and repeats the motion.
"You feel good," Steve tells him, then adds, “you look good, too,” and Eddie's eyes are closed, but he smiles.
"Does it feel good for you?" Steve asks.
Eddie nods, and Steve thinks Eddie’s never been this quiet in his entire life. A little more guidance would be nice.
"Boss me around. I’m happy to take directions."
"It's great, you're doing great," Eddie assures him.
Eddie
Steve’s been working him over, opening him up, for what feels like an hour. Eddie’s boneless against the bed, one pillow under his head, another under his hips.
It's too much. It's such overkill. And Eddie's loved every second of it, but he's ready.
"If you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to murder you in your sleep tonight," Eddie grits out, bearing down on Steve's fingers. All three of them.
Steve laughs, but eases his fingers out and reaches for the box of condoms and the bottle of lube.
"Exhale," Steve says, petting Eddie's stomach and Eddie does and Steve pushes in slowly on the exhale. That's a neat trick. But Eddie thinks he's going to die before they get this show on the road.
"Still okay?"
"Yes, yes," Eddie assures, trying to gain some leverage by wrapping his legs around Steve's hips, trying to pull him in further, faster.
"Easy," Steve says, "slow down."
Eddie knows he's trying to control this from the bottom. He doesn't care. He's ready, he's been ready.
Steve Harrington is good at this, Eddie sees why he had the reputation he did in high school.
Eddie feels him bottom out, and he feels so incredibly full. It's better than he'd anticipated.
“Can I move?” Steve asks, brushing the hair away from Eddie’s eyes.
“I wish you would,” Eddie says, smiling.
Steve pulls almost completely out and gently thrusts back in and Eddie arches up into it, meeting him. He pulls back again, adds more lube, and thrusts in again. And again. It doesn’t take much to find their rhythm together, the give, the take.
“Tell me what angle works for you,” Steve says, looking right at Eddie, clearly ready to take directions. Steve takes his suggestions, both spoken and unspoken, effortlessly.
Eddie tilts his hips up a little more, Steve re-adjusts and holds his hips to keep him in place.
Fuck. That's exactly it.
A first time together should be more awkward than this, Eddie is pretty sure, but Steve is just listening to him, ready to do whatever to get it right. He's definitely got good top manners, Eddie is happy to discover. He's not just fucking him into the mattress with no regards to how it feels.
He thinks Steve is actually more concerned with how it’s feeling for Eddie than himself and that's brand new.
"Just like that," Eddie says, just to reassure Steve that he's doing good. It's so good.
He generally prefers to top, but this is definitely no hardship. He just thought this way would be more familiar for Steve, less scary, even before he knew about his previous experience.
"Eddie," Steve says, breathless.
“I know,” Eddie agrees.
Steve’s movements are getting just a little uneven, and he gives Eddie another, deep, hard thrust at just the right angle and that's all it takes. Eddie comes all over his own belly, his own hand just loosely around himself.
Steve fucks him through it and when he comes moments later, Eddie can feel him tighten and pulse inside of him. He clings to Steve's back, holding him there for an extra second, before Steve's pulling out and dealing with the condom.
After getting cleaned up, Eddie is lying on his side next to Steve.
"You remember Becky O. in our class, senior year?" Steve asks, kind of out of the blue.
"Yeah, wild girl for being the leader of the God Squad. Used to buy weed from me."
"She's the one that taught me. I was popular with the Bible thumpers there for a bit, after Nance. First, because I'd go down on them and not expect to fuck them after. I mean, they were still giving me a hand or head or whatever they wanted to do, but I guess some guys weren't into that. I was into whatever, so long as it didn’t involve me falling in love again," Steve says, and Eddie thinks he seems kind of embarrassed, which makes no sense.
"Then Becky O. got a hold of me and taught me how anal was done. I think word spread from there that I was both willing to do it and I guess that I wouldn't hurt them when I did."
Steve shrugs like it's no big deal. Eddie knows from experience teenage boys aren't always patient enough. It is a big deal, a sign of empathy. Of care. And he thinks Steve's dick could probably hurt like a motherfucker if he wasn't careful. The girth is a lot. Those girls were lucky he was patient.
Eddie's lucky.
Eddie's pretty sure Steve isn't even aware how many standard deviations from average he must be, either.
He cannot believe Nancy Wheeler picked Jonathan Byers over Steve Harrington, for a whole host reasons that have nothing to do with his dick. But her loss is definitely Eddie's gain.
"King Steve of Analton was right under my nose in high school and I had no idea. What a terrible loss I've suffered. I deserve compensation," Eddie teases, curling into Steve's side.
Steve laughs, kissing the top of Eddie's head, "I don't think I was open-minded enough yet for that, back then. I had no idea that I could be attracted to both. I just ignored anything that felt even a little off."
"Did you have crushes on boys?"
"Yeah, I think so. I didn't recognize them as that. But I've been running back the tape, and, yeah, this isn't new. I just never felt about them like I feel about you, so I just pushed it aside."
"I get that. I tried to like girls. If I had, I think I would have turned a blind eye, too."
"Billy Hargrove did things to me I really didn't like."
Eddie stills, tenses, "Did he…?"
Eddie can see the wheels turning as Steve replays that in his head, "Oh, no. No, definitely not. He just made me feel uncomfortable. Bad phrasing, sorry. He would just get too close. I don't know if he was just taunting me because he was an asshole, or if he saw it in me, or if he was like me, too. I have no idea. But he only touched me to beat the living shit out of me, nothing else."
He can't help but think he's another one that got too close, but Steve just pulls you into his orbit, it can't be helped.
Eddie remembers how fucked up Steve's face was at school after that fight. He feels guilty and sick now that he found joy in King Steve getting knocked down a peg by the new kid. He knows now that he didn't have the whole story, and he's pretty sure Steve probably wasn’t the one in the wrong.
"He was a dickhead," Eddie finally says.
"He was. I was there when he died, you know?" Steve says, softly. "I watched him die. He saved the kids. He was a violent, racist piece of shit, but those are my kids and I couldn't protect them. But he did. He made a million fucking awful choices. But the last one, man, the last thing he did was sacrifice himself to buy them, to buy us, just enough time. Sound at all familiar?"
Eddie swallows, "Yeah, well, you made sure I lived."
"Well, I saw the alternative. Didn't much care to repeat it."
"I didn't know you were there. I thought he died in the mall fire?"
"The fire was the cover up, you know? Vecna's mindflayer killed him."
Eddie is trying to wrap his head around this. He realizes he knows nothing, not really.
"Did you have a car wreck that night? You mentioned a car wreck, after our bar fight."
"Billy was flayed, possessed, whatever, and tried to hit the kids with his car. I t-boned him to stop him."
"In your car?" Steve’s car doesn’t look like it’s been through a major wreck, but with money, maybe anything can be fixed.
"No, the Todfather. Some convertible Hopper stole."
"You've had a weird few years, Steve."
"Tell me about it."
Steve is quiet for a minute, "I carried him out, you know? Billy. Max didn't want to leave him there to be burned with the rest of the building. Dr. Owens wasn't prepared to waste time fighting with her. Has a soft spot for damaged kids, as you know. She'd only leave after I promised her I'd get him outside. She didn’t trust them, but she trusted me, I guess. She went out the front with Robin and the other kids, and I carried him out the back with Dr. Owens' goons watching. He was so heavy. People always say dead weight, but it's actually true. They took it from there, and I went around front and put on a blanket to cover up the blood and black goo I was covered in from whatever was inside him, leaking out. Anyway, very long story short, Max got to bury him."
Eddie hugs Steve close. He knew Steve Harrington was a good dude, Henderson insisted on the matter, but he had no idea how true that really was.
"Was I that heavy?" Eddie can't help asking.
"No. You were alive. I wasn't sure we'd make it back, wasn't sure you were even conscious of what was happening. But I picked you up and put you over my shoulder and I felt you fist the back of my jacket in your hand to hold on."
“I don't remember that."
"I do. It's what gave me hope that you might be okay. That you were still with it enough to know you didn't want me to drop you," Steve laughs.
Eddie has had nightmares of being left behind in the Upside Down. It quiets something in him to know that Steve Harrington probably wouldn't have left him behind even if he had died there. His final resting place wouldn't be there on the ground where he had been so sure he was already dead.
"Thanks for carrying me out alive. I'm happy to be here with you," Eddie says, kissing Steve's chest.
"I'm happy to be here with you, too."
They lay together, just quiet and content. Finally, Eddie can't resist.
"That was some depressing post-coital conversation, Harrington. Your pillowtalk needs some work."
Steve laughs, chest shaking. Eddie smiles, mission accomplished. He teases, but that was incredibly intimate, more than the sex, he's pretty sure.
He feels like maybe he's failed Steve a little by not asking him more questions, sooner. He'll ask, now that he knows that Steve is probably willing to tell him.
He wants to know everything there is to know about Steve Harrington.
The next morning in the car, Eddie is thrilled to make Steve blush as he marks off ass with extra flourish and style.
"That makes me feel dirty," Steve complains, but he can't hide the smile on his face.
"I like it when you're dirty, big boy," Eddie answers, giving Steve a toothy grin in return.
Steve
“Are you okay with the ferry?” Steve asks.
Eddie had been fine in Staten Island, but then didn’t like the bridge in Virginia Beach. So Steve doesn’t want them to get into a situation they can’t get out of easily again.
“Yeah, I think it’ll be fine,” Eddie answers, “I really want to tour Alcatraz.”
“Then we’ll tour Alcatraz,” Steve says, opening his wallet to buy the tickets.
They walk around the old prison, and Eddie is really interested in the history of it, Steve is a little bored.
They go to Fisherman’s Wharf when they get dumped back off on the pier, and Steve takes a picture of Eddie beneath the crab wheel sign. They check out Pier 39 and since they are there right at the start of locally caught dungeness crab season, Eddie picks a restaurant that serves them.
When they arrive at the table, Steve is pretty sure they are in over their heads, “Do you even know how to eat these things?”
Eddie just shrugs, grabbing the tools that were left on the table, and just looks like he's going to take his best guess.
"They can’t be that different from the crawfish in New Orleans," he says and starts cracking them open.
Steve smiles when Eddie finally gets some meat loose and promptly puts it over on Steve's plate.
"Thanks, Eddie," he says, smiling at him.
"Anytime," Eddie answers, smiling back.
Eddie
That night, Steve's tucked into Eddie's side in bed, head on his shoulder. Eddie on his back, running his hand up and down Steve's arm.
"Will you tell me everything? The Russians and all the stuff you guys mention in passing like it's all normal? You can say no. But if you want to tell me, I want to know how you got tangled up in this."
Steve doesn't hesitate, he just starts talking.
"I went to apologize to Jonathan Byers and I ended up fighting a demogorgon with my bat, I mean, it wasn't mine then, it is now, but, you know, the bat. In the trunk."
Eddie knows the bat, and has wondered about its origin story.
Steve pauses, then starts again, "I used to think all this was my punishment for being such an asshole. If I'd been a decent human being, I wouldn't have needed to apologize and I wouldn't have been there that night in the first place. But if I wasn't, I think they would have died. Not that I did anything special, they just needed another pair of hands."
Steve takes a breath, "I almost ran. So, no, you're not the only one that does that. Nancy told me to leave and I did. I ran. But I saw the lights in the house flicker, and I went back in and they were in trouble. I picked up the bat and the rest is history. I was in it."
"Why did you need to apologize?" Eddie heard about the fight, everyone in school did, but he doesn't know the truth. Or, at least, Steve's side.
"I was jealous and didn't know what the fuck I was doing, and I messed up. I really messed up, Eddie."
"It's okay," Eddie squeezes him closer, "it's okay."
"I called him a queer. I don't think he even cared about that. But I, I talked shit on Joyce, on Joyce, and I made light of Will disappearing. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with me?"
"It's alright, Steve. You were sixteen years old. You can forgive yourself, you know? Everyone else has." Eddie knows that’s true. They all love Steve so much.
"I've tried to fix it, but I think that maybe I'm kind of a bad person, at the core," he whispers and Eddie's heart cracks in two.
"You're not, Steve. I fucking promise that you're not."
Steve nods, just the slightest motion.
Eddie holds him as close as he can.
“That’s going to be a fun conversation with Jonathan someday. Oh, hey, remember when I called you a queer? Well, sorry, that wasn’t you, that was me. My bad," Steve says, shaking his head.
“He’s not going to care, I’m sure he’s over it. I’m sure he was over it the second you jumped into the fight.”
Steve is quiet for a long stretch, and Eddie just holds him.
“I’m scared to ask,” Steve says, “did I call you a queer? I goddamn hate that I don’t even know,” Steve asks, squeezing his eyes shut tight.
“You didn’t. I heard you call others that, but you had other things to pick on me about,” Eddie says, honest. There’s no reason to sugarcoat it. He doesn’t want to hide things from Steve. Not anymore.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, turning his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “I’m really sorry, Eddie.”
“I know you are, Steve,” Eddie answers, “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago.”
Steve nods and anchors his leg over Eddie's thighs and just keeps talking until he's said it all. The good, the bad and the ugly. It’s like he’s giving confession. Eddie listens. And silently gives him absolution.
Notes:
Adventures in San Francisco to be continued next time! This was a little shorter, but it felt like it's own chapter. And I hate that the sea lions didn't start congregating on Pier 39 until 1989, after the earthquake. Eddie would have loved them!
Also, I don’t know how the ghost of Burt Reynolds was all up in this fic either, Steve, but he’s here. And he was apparently not leaving, lol.
I've wondered what was in Max's letter to Steve. I guess this is my answer to that, among all the other things he's done for her.
Photo credits: Drive-in from The Connecticut Post. Alcatraz Island from History.com. Fisherman’s Wharf from walkingsf on Flickr.
Chapter 16: San Francisco (You've Got Me)
Summary:
CW: We’re in San Francisco in the 1980s. The AIDS crisis couldn’t be ignored.
Notes:
Thanks so much, everyone! I appreciate all your feedback! <3 Sorry this one took a little longer to get formatted and ready to post, but it's a long one!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
freedom is in the air, yeah,
searching for what we all treasure: pleasure
San Francisco (You've Got Me), Village People
Steve
They stop at the Fort Point Historical Fortress at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. They park right on the water and it’s absolutely beautiful. Steve is less enamored with the history than he is of the views of the water. But Eddie is listening intently to the park ranger talking about the Civil War and how this was used to keep hostile warships at bay.
When they get back in the car, Steve turns to Eddie, “Are you okay with the bridge?”
“Yeah,” Eddie answers, “it’s the underwater part that I really didn’t like.”
"Well, damn, I guess I'll cancel the submarine ride for later," Steve teases as he steers the car toward the bridge.
Eddie laughs, rolling his eyes.
But Steve reaches over and offers Eddie his hand. Eddie takes and smiles, stroking the back of Steve’s hand, gently, “Thanks, Steve.”
Once they get across the Golden Gate Bridge, they stop outside the gates of San Quentin State Prison so Eddie can take a picture by the sign to send to Uncle Wayne.
"I'm not sure he'll find this as funny as you think he will," Steve says, because he knows he doesn't want to put the idea of Eddie in prison out into the universe. He can only assume Wayne will feel the same way.
"He'll love it. This is where Merle Haggard saw Johnny Cash play and decided to be a musician."
"He was an inmate?" He has no idea who Merle Haggard is, so he doesn't know why he's asking for additional information. He guesses he's just interested in hearing what Eddie has to say, no matter the topic.
They ride a cable car and it’s a nice way to see the city without having to be paying attention to driving. They hop off in Chinatown and Eddie picks somewhere for them to eat. Steve lets Eddie do the ordering and just eats whatever is put in front of him. He feels the less he knows, the better off he’ll be about the whole situation.
Whatever it is, it’s good and Eddie seems pleased that Steve likes what he’s picked out.
They make their way to the Castro, one of the gay neighborhoods. Seeing other men being openly affectionate with each other is such a new concept for them.
They visit the Twin Peaks Tavern. Steve enjoys people watching out of the large plate-glass windows, looking out onto the streets of the Castro. Eddie tells him one of the regulars at the bar told him this is the first gay bar in the United States to have big, open windows like this, so they weren’t hiding the patrons from the world or the world from the patrons. Steve doesn’t care if he’s seen here, and he’s glad that Eddie can feel like they maybe won’t always have to live their lives hidden in the darkness, getting two beds just so some motel clerk doesn’t suspect they’re sleeping in the same bed together.
Steve wants everyone to know they’re together, and is trying hard to stay in his lane, to let Eddie dictate what’s okay and what’s not.
Touching each other like this in public is new, but Eddie has hooked his chin over Steve’s shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, as they look out over the street.
Steve is loving every second of the attention he’s getting from Eddie. All he wants is Eddie, any way he can have him.
Eventually, Steve turns in Eddie’s arms, brushing his lips close to Eddie’s ear, whispering low and just for Eddie to hear, “I want you to fuck me.”
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, pulling back to look into Steve’s eyes, seeming very skeptical about this idea.
“Yes,” Steve says, and he is sure he wants to at least try. Maybe it’ll not be for him, but he won’t know that unless they try it and find out. He really wants to find out.
Eddie kisses him. In public. Sure, they're in a gay bar, in the Castro, in San Francisco. But it makes Steve's heart thud against his ribs with excitement. He wants it to be like this, always. He knows it can't be, not now, but this taste of it is intoxicating.
Eddie pulls back and smiles at him, “Let’s get out of here then,” grabbing Steve by the hand.
It’s a long cable car ride back to the car, where they have to keep their hands to themselves, and what seems like an even longer car ride back to the motel, where they don't.
Eddie
Eddie slowly pushes one slick finger into Steve, “Tell me if it hurts, you know it shouldn’t hurt,” Eddie insists.
Steve is tense, too tense, so Eddie rubs his hand over Steve’s back, over the swell of his ass, “Relax. Exhale," he says, trying to use Steve's own move on him.
Steve exhales for him, but still isn’t relaxing. Eddie can see that he’s got his hand fisted in the sheets, an iron grip on white cotton.
Eddie eases out, just caressing the back of Steve’s thigh, “We don’t have to do this right now. You don’t ever have to do this, not everyone likes it.”
Steve nods against the pillow.
Eddie rolls Steve over and situates him up against his shoulder, “It’s okay if you don’t, honest.”
“I didn’t like that I couldn’t see you,” Steve finally says, "it made me feel anxious."
“If you ever want to try again, we can do it with you on your back. It’s not as easy for the first time, but it’s completely doable,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.
Steve
Steve doesn't want to give up that easily. He takes the lube and tries it on himself in the shower the next morning, and can tell he doesn't hate it, it's just something different. Something new. He'll just need some time to adjust and some practice.
Eddie's waiting when he gets out of the shower, "Did you just jerk off in there?"
Steve is embarrassed and feels caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, "No?"
"Is that a real no?"
"I didn't just come," Steve says, hoping that's what he's being asked.
"Okay, can I do something that's gonna seem weird, then?" Eddie asks.
"How weird are we talking?" Steve asks, but he already knows he's going to say yes unless it's totally crazy.
He drops his towel and climbs up on the bed next to Eddie.
Eddie massages Steve's prostate externally, fingers against his taint.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? I feel like I need to pee," Steve laughs, squirming, making Eddie pull his mouth off his dick.
"Then I'm in the right place," Eddie assures with a smile, "lean into that feeling."
Steve really wants more than Eddie's fingers pressing around behind his balls. But he lets Eddie go slow. It does feel good, just really different.
Eddie
Eddie kisses the mole on the inside of Steve's thigh, the one on his hip, the one right along his happy trail.
Eddie is getting into a good rhythm again, mouth sliding up and down, hot and wet on Steve's cock, meeting his fist at the base, his other hand still massaging. He's not terribly coordinated, but he thinks he's doing alright when Steve touches his head, "Try again."
Eddie pulls off reluctantly, tongue sliding all the way up Steve's cock, "Yeah?" He was pretty happy right where he was.
Kicking his legs further apart, Steve nods, handing Eddie the bottle of lube.
Eddie taps his thigh to get him to lift up, before sliding the pillow underneath him.
Steve is more relaxed this time, and Eddie is able to slide a slick finger in with minimal resistance, and Eddie realizes Steve wasn't jerking off in the shower, he was fingering himself. The thought makes Eddie's dick jump in his boxers, "Okay?"
"Yes," Steve says, and pushes down against his hand, demanding more. Eddie gives him more and it doesn't take long before Steve comes, Eddie's fingers deep inside of him, pressing a steady rhythm against his prostate.
"Oh shit," he says, giggling and flopping his arms out wide on the bed.
Eddie eases his fingers out, "A good oh shit?"
"Uh, yeah," Steve laughs, "thank you. That was different than anything I've ever had done to me before."
Eddie has learned that Steve laughs, giggles really, after he comes. Eddie loves that sound more than anything in the world.
"No, thank you," Eddie teases, adding, "and they'll get better, too, now that you know what a prostate orgasm feels like."
"Yeah?" Steve asks, smiling.
"Oh, hell yeah. Some people can come, over and over, without, you know, coming," and Eddie makes a crude eruption hand gesture.
"No way," Steve says.
"No guarantees, but yeah."
"Put it on the list," Steve teases, working his hand into Eddie's boxers, clearly wanting to get his hand on him.
"I'm not adding things to the list, that's not how the list works," Eddie chides playfully as he kicks off his underwear, and strokes his dick, hovering over Steve, looking down at him.
He's teasing Steve, but the way Steve is looking at him, he thinks he's really into it.
"Yeah," Steve says, voice husky, "do that. Come on me," he encourages, running his hands up Eddie's thighs, around to squeeze his ass.
Eddie comes on Steve's chest and the smile Steve gives him is beautiful. He's kind of a filthy pervert, but right now he's Eddie's filthy pervert.
Eddie pulls Steve out of bed really early the next morning, it’s still dark outside, and Steve’s grumbling the whole time.
Eddie ushers him into the car and Steve dozes back off, and Eddie has to wake him up when they reach the top of Twin Peaks, the two tall, uninhabited hills overlooking the city below.
The sun is just coming up over the bay and it’s peaceful. Beautiful.
“Oh, wow,” Steve says, reaching over to take Eddie’s hand.
Eddie squeezes his hand in return, having a hard time pulling his eyes away from Steve to enjoy the view of the city.
They head back to the motel, while the sun is still rising in the morning sky.
Steve
Steve crowds Eddie towards the bed, “Let’s do this, yeah?”
He wants Eddie to fuck him. Eddie had said he isn't sure Steve's ready for that, but Steve is sure he needs it.
When Eddie finally starts to ease in, Steve knows this was a good decision. The best decision.
“Oh my god,” Steve says, clawing at Eddie’s back, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Okay, okay, it's okay,” Eddie says, stilling, slowly pulling back. Resisting the urge to pull out, quickly. That won't help matters. "I'm pulling out, hang on."
“What? No, don’t stop,” Steve whines, actually whines, and he’s embarrassed for himself.
“You’re good?” Eddie questions, stopping all movement, either way, “Those did not sound like happy sounds.”
“So happy,” Steve answers, bucking, trying to get Eddie to move. Steve now gets why Eddie was being so bossy when their roles were reversed, "this is so good."
Even with the practice runs, Steve had still assumed this would be kind of uncomfortable, maybe even painful, like maybe he wasn't made to actually do this. But he feels like he’s on fire in the best way. He likes this, thinks he may love this. It's something he's never experienced before, had never really expected to, but yes, please. More of this.
Eddie moves, tentatively.
"Eddie. For fuck's sake," Steve says, digging his heel into Eddie's ass cheek.
"You're backseat driving, Harrington, and you don’t have a license yet, in case you weren't aware," Eddie laughs, but finally starts moving in earnest.
"You love it," Steve says, moving to meet him, stroke for stroke.
It feels so good, Steve gets lost in it.
"I'm almost there," Steve finally says, and he wasn't lying. As soon as he wraps his hand around himself, he comes all over his own stomach, clenching down on Eddie in the process.
Eddie starts to ease out, but Steve squeezes his legs on Eddie's hips to hold him there, "Keep going, just maybe, don't aim as well as before," he laughs. He doesn't feel too sensitive, he thinks he will enjoy it as long as Eddie is not directly aiming for his prostate again.
Eddie changes his angle and rocks into him gently. Steve is boneless. He's just enjoying the slow grind of Eddie in him, the fullness. Steve is blissed out, his legs feeling shaky. One knee hooked over Eddie's elbow.
Eddie grabs Steve's hips and pulls him back onto his dick, over and over, trying to miss his prostate as requested. When Eddie comes, Steve feels a little regret that it's over. That feeling expands when Eddie grips the base of the condom, and slowly pulls out. Steve doesn't like this emptiness at all.
It's probably too much, he may regret all these decisions later today, but he guides Eddie's hand back to his entrance.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, looking unsure.
"Please," Steve begs, and Eddie gently slides one finger back inside.
Steve sighs, "Yeah, just like that."
He's not trying to get off on it, he just wasn't ready for Eddie to be out of him, not yet.
They stay like that until Steve gives the okay for Eddie to pull away.
"Uh, I think you're a bottom after all, big boy," Eddie laughs fondly, brushing a kiss against Steve's mouth.
Steve nods. He'll be anything Eddie says he is, as long as they do that again, "Hope you'll learn to enjoy my music selections, then."
"Jesus H. Christ, that was a terrible precedent for me to set. I have regrets."
Steve really laughs and it makes Eddie smile, wide.
"I will never forgive you if you confuse my dick into getting hard to Journey or Foreigner or Wham or some other shit."
"Too bad, so sad," Steve says, grinning at Eddie. "I will fuck you any time you get the urge to pick the music," Steve says.
"And I'll take you up on that. I'm into you, so any way you want to do this, is fine by me," Eddie says, brushing a kiss against Steve's skin.
"I'm into you too," Steve agrees. He is so into Eddie, he’s nearly bursting at the seams.
Steve stands in the pay phone booth, leaning against the glass. He thinks he probably should have taken a shower first, he probably reeks of sex. His ass aches, but in a way he thinks he really, really likes.
He likes that he can feel that Eddie was inside him.
The phone rings a few times before it finally connects.
"Robin."
"Steve! Where are you guys?"
Steve ignores her. "Are you alone?"
"Yeah, I sit here all alone, doing homework before it's even due, like a total loser," she rambles.
"I had sex with Eddie." He just says it, pulls the bandage right off.
"What?! Are you drunk?" she asks.
"No, I'm not drunk! It’s before eight in the morning!" he yells, annoyed.
"Was it an accident?"
"How would that even work? I slipped and fell on his dick? Robin. Be serious."
"Did you just have sex with him or are you, like, dating him?"
"We're stuck in a car together, I don't think dating is really an option," he parrots Eddie to her.
"So it's just sex?"
"No! Are you even listening to me?!"
"I'm listening, but I don't understand what you're saying!"
"I think dating him would have been about twenty states ago."
"You're in a relationship with him, then?"
"We haven't talked about it. I don't know what we're doing. I don't know what I'm doing. This is crazy."
"Are you freaking out right now?"
"Yes!" Steve half-shouts, "But in a good way, I think. In a real good way," he says, much quieter.
"Was it good? Was he good to you?"
"Yes, he's always good to me. I'm the asshole on this trip, we all know that."
"Then I'm happy for you. For both of you. Jealous, but happy."
Steve laughs, "Jealous? You have a crush on me, Buckley? Or is it Eddie?"
"Gross," she laughs into the phone, "neither of you nasty boys do it for me, sorry."
"Rude."
"Did you…or did he?" she asks, drawing out the question she didn't really even ask.
"Robin Buckley, are you asking me for the explicit details of what went where?" he teases, feigning shock and horror.
"I'm just curious! I cannot picture this. I don't want to picture this, but now you've forced me to, so I at least want to correctly know what I'm being forced to imagine against my will."
Steve laughs from his belly at her rambling. He doesn't care if she knows, "We've done it both ways, so picture it however you want to, I guess."
"Then why haven't you called me sooner?!" she screeches, then follows it up with, "Which way did you like better?"
"You cannot seriously want to know that, right?"
"Well, I kinda want to know," she says, sullenly.
"I liked both the same," he says diplomatically.
"You're a liar!" she laughs, "Oh. My. God."
He laughs with her, then gets a little more serious, "I like him a lot, Robin."
"Yeah, I gathered that from the you've had sex with Eddie multiple times bombshell you just dropped on me before I've had any coffee."
"I'm kind of scared."
"Scared of what? It's Eddie. I don't think you need to be scared of him, he's a big ol' softie."
Steve nods, realizes she can't see him, "Yeah, I know that. I do. It's just, it’s a lot."
"If he makes you happy, that's all that matters, Steve."
"He makes me happy," he admits, "and don’t think I don’t know you were angling for this. He told me you know he’s gay. So, you encouraged this. Remember that when this all goes up in flames.”
“It’s not going to go up in flames! You’re so dramatic. How did you not know you’re at least a little queer?”
Steve laughs, she has him there. He knows what he is now, he's just been really good at putting it on the back burner. Until Eddie. Eddie didn't make him like boys. Eddie just made him want to go exploring the possibility of acting on those feelings for the first time.
"Why didn't you just tell me he's gay when I asked? It could have made things make more sense."
"I wasn't going to out him! Are you insane?"
"I'm definitely insane. But that's fair, I wasn't thinking about it like that. I was just confused as shit for weeks."
“What else is new?" she snaps back, the familiar banter easily rolling off her tongue, "No, I honest to god didn’t actually think you’d act on it!” she laughs. “So I didn't think it mattered. I swear on Dustin’s mother. I thought you’d be oblivious until the end of time. I didn’t think you had any idea you had a little, teensy crush on him.”
“I did not!”
“You did. And that’s okay. Is it weird being with a man after all those women?”
“Not really,” Steve admits, “sex is sex. I’ll try anything twice,” he laughs, “but being with him is more…intense?”
“Good intense?”
“Great intense,” he admits, “do you actually want to hear this?” he asks.
“No. But also yes,” she laughs in return.
“I won’t traumatize you then,” he says, “but it’s good, Rob. To let him…drive? It’s fucking good.”
Robin laughs, “Ew, gross, I don’t want to think about Eddie driving,” she says, but then adds, “I’m really happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks, Rob. Seriously, though, listen. I gotta go. He's in the shower, I don't want him to think I ran away." Steve had yelled into the bathroom that he was going to get them breakfast. But he hadn't gotten a response, so he's not sure Eddie heard him.
"Call me again soon. I mean it. I'll have follow up questions."
"Can't wait," he snarks, then is serious, "I miss you. I love you. I'll see you at Christmas, right?"
She assures him she will be home for Christmas. After they hang up, Steve swings by the car, he has something he's been meaning to add to the list. Then he stops by the free continental breakfast, and loads them both up plates.
Eddie is still in the shower when Steve gets back and he's glad. He never wants Eddie to worry again that he's been left behind.
Steve
Steve suggests going to a gay club.
“A dick bar, you mean?” Eddie asks, taunting him playfully.
Steve ignores him, but neither of them really know where they should go. There are so many options and they all seem to cater to very different crowds. So, as always, Eddie makes friends with a local to get more information.
This time it’s an older gay man, Tom, who is willing to show them around the different gay neighborhoods. Tom’s clearly a little surprised they are together, points out the different subsets of gay men in the neighborhoods, but tells them they don’t really mix.
Sure enough, Steve can see there are groups that dress like him, and groups that dress like Eddie, but they aren’t mingling together. Tom declares that Steve is more preppie-athletic and that Eddie would fit in better on Folsom Street, at the leather bars.
He walks them by a bar on Folsom Street that has a massive line of motorcycles out front.
Steve thinks he might get eaten alive at a leather bar, but he’ll go with Eddie, if that’s what Eddie wants to do.
Tom warns them about what’s safe, what isn’t. Tells them about the friends he's lost, and the list is long, too long.
He gives advice on where to go if they're looking to swing, or bring in a third. Steve thinks his eyes must be huge. They feel huge, anyway. He hopes Eddie isn't looking for either of those things. He's not a prude about sex, but he definitely doesn't want to share, either.
But maybe Eddie would like to expand his horizons while he's here in such an open city, though? Steve knows enough to know he knows nothing about gay sex. Maybe he's holding Eddie back from having experiences that could rock his fucking world.
Just because Steve is into serial monogamy given half the chance, doesn't mean Eddie wants that.
Steve starts to sweat. He could try to handle the idea of Eddie fucking other men. As long as Eddie comes back to him. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t come back to him, though. He's about to start spiraling. Eddie squeezes his elbow, and it grounds him.
Tom tells them most of the bathhouses were all closed a couple years ago, there’s only one holdout and it’s a shell of what it once was. That it was a fight with the city that the gay community lost.
And Steve starts to open his mouth and Eddie shakes his head at him. Okay. Different kinds of bathhouses, then.
When they are finally alone again, Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, "Do you want to find a hookup? To, like, experience more? More than I know how to give you."
"You're joking, right?" Eddie asks, his eyes big.
Steve shrugs, embarrassed.
"First, no. I want you. Second, do I want to have random sex in a city being overwhelmed by a disease that's killing gay men in droves?"
Steve feels like maybe he has no actual idea of what has really been happening to gay men in the last few years. This hasn’t been his community, his problem, so he’s apparently paid no fucking attention. He's definitely not proud of that.
"I'm not as wild as I apparently look," Eddie laughs, but it's a little bitter, Steve can tell and he hates the sound of it. "Trust me, Harrington, I don't have any complaints with you so far."
"I just-"
"Do you want to go find someone else to fuck you?”
“No!” Steve insists, a little too loudly. He doesn’t want that at all.
“Okay, so you're a relationship guy, right? You said that. Now you're trying to, what, offer me up to anyone that's willing to take me?"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Steve grabs Eddie by the arms, "I don't want anyone to take you. I want you all to my goddamn self, but, just because I want one thing, doesn't mean you want that same thing."
Eddie looks him dead in the eye, serious, "I want you. Only you. As long as this lasts, it's you and me. Nobody else. That work for you, Harrington?"
Steve nods. That definitely works for him.
Eddie is quiet for a minute, then laughs, "Jesus H. Christ. Give me fucking stroke, why don't you?"
Steve smiles, "Sorry. I'm an idiot," and he reaches up and kisses Eddie firmly, staking his claim.
Eddie comes out of the bathroom in a pair of leather pants and crop top. And the boots. Steve just stands there looking at him.
“What?” Eddie asks, self-conscious.
“I think we should probably just stay here,” Steve says, cupping Eddie’s bare waist. Thumbing over the scar tissue that is on display.
Eddie laughs.
“Have you seriously had these clothes in your bag this whole time?”
“You knew about the boots!” Eddie argues.
“Okay, but,” and Steve waves his hands frantically, “all this, I did not.”
“I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Eddie says.
“Uh, yeah, you’re going to embarass me, but not for the reason you think,” Steve laughs, adjusting himself in his pants, as he buries his face in Eddie’s neck. “I’m going to have to suck your dick before we leave, or I won’t be able to think about anything else all night,” he whispers in Eddie’s ear.
“Oh no, that’s such a hardship for me,” Eddie says, watching as Steve moves back and starts to unbuckle his belt.
Eddie
They finally do make it to the leather bar. They’re both just a little more relaxed and a little more disheveled than they’d started out.
Eddie takes one look around, and thinks this is not where they need to be. He doesn't feel unsafe or anything, just out of place. He’s wearing leather, but he’s not really wearing that kind of leather, and Steve looks straight out of the Sears catalog. Nobody seems to be paying any attention to them, but maybe this isn’t the place.
Eddie takes Steve’s hand and pulls him back outside. Eddie is laughing as he tugs Steve down the street, back towards the Castro neighborhood, “Okay, that was not for us.”
“Oh, thank god,” Steve giggles, gripping Eddie’s hand tighter.
Steve
They finally do find a club that seems more comfortable for both of them.
"Dance with me," Steve demands, he's wanted to dance with Eddie since that cursed country bar. This isn't exactly the kind of dancing he had in mind, but it'll do for now.
"I'm not very good at this kind of dancing," Eddie says.
"Me either, c'mon," Steve urges, tugging on his hand.
Seeing all the men around them dancing together is liberating.
Steve slides his hands under Eddie's leather jacket, fingers skimming his bare waist, tugging him close, mouth near Eddie's ear, "I'm the luckiest guy in here, being the one that gets to touch you."
When he pulls back, Eddie turns his head so his face is hidden behind his hair, but Steve sees his shy smile peeking through.
Steve smiles, grinds against Eddie. He feels like he has no rhythm, but doesn't really care. Eddie grips his hips, and pulls him tighter against him.
Eddie
He can’t believe how free he feels here, and he can’t keep his hands off Steve. He feels like he needs to work a lifetime of public touching into this one night, in case he never gets the chance to show Steve how he feels out in the open again.
It’s nice to just blend in, to be one couple in the crowd.
They dance and drink until they’re both sweaty and giggly. When they stumble back onto the street, Eddie pushes Steve up against the exterior wall of the bar, and kisses him.
Steve grips him by the leather jacket, pulling him closer.
Eddie happily presses their bodies together, fully, chest to thigh. He can feel how hard Steve is and he grinds against him.
People are walking right past them and paying no attention to them whatsoever. They aren’t anything out of the ordinary here. Just two men that can’t get enough of one another. In a city where one in five adults are gay, they definitely aren’t any kind of special here. Just a regular couple, drowning in their attraction to each other.
Eddie finally hails them a cab and gets them back to the motel.
Steve
Back in the motel room, Eddie is hovering over him, struggling to open the condom packet with his slick fingers.
"Can you open this, I'm a greased pig over here," Eddie laughs.
Steve takes the condom packet from him, turning it over in his fingers, “You don't have to, unless you want to.”
Eddie swallows, “That’s not a good idea.”
Steve nods, a little embarrassed. He’s tipsy from the bar, but feels more drunk off the idea of them being together than the alcohol. It's making him more brazen than he would normally be.
"Did you fuck girls without?"
"No, of course not." He wants kids, but he’s not crazy.
"Pregnancy would be a better outcome than what else could happen. I cannot stress that enough."
Steve's seen the news, knows, but has never really thought about it too much. Never found it something he was worried about, like, on a personal level. That's probably selfish, ignorant, he realizes, ashamed. Eddie has had different life experiences than he has had, and much different things to worry about.
"I'm sorry, I just thought, if…nevermind."
"Tell me," Eddie says, touching his cheek.
"I mean, if I have something, you have it already. From the blood," Steve finally says.
"The blood? From the fight?"
"No, from the hospital."
"I'm not following," Eddie says, like he doesn't know what Steve's talking about.
"When I donated blood to you," Steve says, "it's not like they tested it or anything. It pretty much went right from me to you."
Eddie just stares at him, "I don't remember that. Is that even legal?"
Steve shrugs, "I don't know. They were running low, and unsurprisingly, you were not at the top of the list. I'm O negative, so I pretty much made them. Wayne and I just hounded them until they relented, I guess. You knew this, you were there. You signed off on it."
Eddie
Eddie is dumbstruck. He has almost no memories of being in the hospital, and definitely none of Steve Harrington donating blood specifically for him. He’s not sure how he was never told this. Someone should have told him. He supposes they did and he just didn't retain that information.
"I didn't know that. I didn't. I would have said thank you. Thank you, Steve," he says, very belatedly.
"It was nothing," Steve says, and the crazy thing is, Eddie thinks he means that.
Steve probably didn't have a whole lot extra to spare, Eddie thinks, since he'd been hurt, too.
"I'm not worried about me, Steve. I'm worried about you. I don't think I need to be worried, I really, sincerely, don't. I obviously haven't been in high demand as the town pariah. But I can't risk it. Especially not with you."
Steve nods, seems to understand, and tears open the package and hands Eddie the condom.
Eddie pulls out and strips off the condom, he gives himself a couple strokes and he's coming all over Steve's stomach and chest hair. He can compromise in this way, at least.
He barely gets a hand around Steve before he's coming, too, adding to the mess.
They get cleaned up, but Eddie has trouble falling asleep. He’s trying hard to pull those hospital memories to the surface, but they just aren’t there and that frustrates him. He wants to remember, wants to see the image of Steve by his bedside. But those days are just gone. Lost to trauma and sedatives, and he mourns the absence of them a little harder than he ever has before.
"Henderson,” Eddie says into the pay phone while Steve is still sleeping upstairs. He crawled out of bed in the middle of the night to make this phone call.
"It’s seven in the morning, Eddie. What the fuck are you calling me for?”
“Well, it’s four here, so I win. Stop whining. Did you know Steve donated blood to me, after the bats?"
“Uh, yeah? I'm the one that went and got him when we were having problems getting you looked after. Dickheads."
"I have no memory of this."
"He was all, 'do you know who my parents are?’ and I'd never heard him use that before, and they finally just caved to shut us up. I told you he was a good dude."
"I'm well aware of that now, kid."
“This is a stupid conversation to be having in the middle of the night,” Dustin says, and Eddie hears him yawning, "Are you assholes on your way home yet?"
"I mean, sure. Technically we've been on our way home since we left town."
"Eddie."
"I promised by Christmas. That's my best offer.”
Eddie is in no rush to rejoin the real world in Hawkins. He’s going to hold on tight to these last weeks, and soak up every minute of time he has with Steve. He knows this can’t last. Not in Hawkins. Not with the real world breathing down their necks.
But this bubble, he’s not about to pop it until he has no other choice.
“Sorry to call so early. But you need to get ready for school anyway, don’t want to be late!” he adds, with a fake chipperness.
“I hate you,” Dustin says.
“You love me,” Eddie counters and hangs up the phone.
Eddie goes back up to the room and crawls back in bed with Steve. It’s not like he thought Steve was lying, he doesn’t even know why he needed confirmation from Henderson. It just felt important to know more.
He feels his pulse thrumming in his neck, and wonders if any of Steve’s blood is still coursing through his veins, still keeping him alive. Probably not, it’s been too long now, he’s pretty sure. But Steve kept him alive. He took care of him, even when Eddie was a near stranger who was probably more annoying to him than anything else.
Eddie reaches over and grasps Steve’s hand, bringing it up to his chest, resting it over his beating heart.
Later that morning after finally getting some sleep, Eddie can’t stop thinking about what Steve wants. He’s never had sex without a condom. The idea seems foreign and scary, to be honest. But it’s Steve, and if he were going to do it with anyone, he could at least imagine trusting Steve enough to do it with him. So he goes back down to the phone booth, and uses the giant phonebook in there to call the Planned Parenthood closest to the Castro.
He tries to explain that they are on a road trip, and can they call back for their results? They must think he’s a little crazy, but they finally agree and he makes two appointments for later that afternoon. If Steve really wants to do this, they’re going to do it as safely as possible. He’d read that testing was available in New York City, and recommended regularly for gay and bixsexual men, so he figured that had to be true in San Francisco as well.
It didn't occur to him until after he'd made the call that maybe Steve wouldn't want to be tested. Maybe he wouldn't want to walk in somewhere and put in their records that he's having sex with men.
"I think I might have fucked up," Eddie says, wringing his hands, standing in front of Steve.
"What? How?" Steve asks, looking up at Eddie from his chair where he was putting on his shoes, but he doesn't look very concerned.
"I called and made appointments for us to be tested, so we could, you know, without, but it didn't occur to me until after that you might not want to go do that. I should have asked first, I'm sorry."
"We can do that, I don't care. I'm not scared of needles. I donate blood. I mean, not just to you," Steve says, shrugging, "like I do whenever they have a blood drive, or whatever. I have a gallon pin they gave me last time, somewhere. Well, the time before you. You were the last time. And, you know, I don’t think what I donated to you even counted," Steve laughs, “that’s pretty rude of them.”
Steve’s just rambling away, laughing, like he can’t see that Eddie’s heart has fallen to his stomach.
"You can't do that now. I mean, you could. But you'd have to lie. You can't have sex with men and donate blood,” Eddie says, nearly choking on the next words, “It's a lifetime ban," he feels so guilty, like he's just taken something from Steve without his consent. "I'm sorry, Steve."
"Oh, well, their loss then, I guess," Steve says, like it's no big deal. Like he's not offended that he's being discriminated against. For life. Just because he had sex with Eddie.
"You're not mad?"
"At you or at the Red Cross?" Steve asks, looking confused, then shakes his head, "Doesn't matter, I'm not mad at either of you," he confirms.
Eddie doesn't get how he's not mad. Eddie's mad on his behalf.
“You ready to go get breakfast? I’m starving,” Steve says, standing up and brushing a quick kiss against Eddie’s lips as he walks towards the door. Like this conversation is over, and already out of his head.
Eddie just nods a little dumbly and follows him.
In the end, the doctor in the clinic doesn't want to do their call back plan. Eddie assumes it's in case the results are bad. Eddie doesn't actually think that's even a possibility, he's just being careful, but they agree to stay in town until the results are in.
Since they're grounded for a couple days, Eddie looks around for an artist that feels like a good match for him, and makes a tattoo appointment.
There’s a sex shop on the corner, near the tattoo parlor and Eddie pulls Steve in the door behind him. He’s never been in a shop like this, and Steve is on his way to bright red at just the mention of going inside. The man wants to be fucked bare, but finds a sex shop is too scandalous? It’s good to know his uptightness isn’t totally gone, since Eddie hasn’t seen it a whole lot lately.
Eddie picks out some lube that is probably higher quality than the stuff from the drugstore and is looking at the butt plugs. He's fairly certain Steve would be very into these from what Eddie's learned about him so far, but Steve is busy dying of embarrassment and is nowhere to be found. For someone so open about sex, and seemingly willing to try anything, apparently that does not extend to browsing for sex toys.
There are so many things to look at, so many options, but Eddie hurries up, not wanting to torture Steve longer than necessary and picks some stuff out and pays. Steve is waiting by the door, looking at his shoes like they are very, very interesting.
Steve
Steve drops Eddie off at the tattoo parlor and walks around the neighborhood. It takes forever. Steve would keep coming back, and there’d still be no Eddie. He grabbed the traffic ticket from his visor and walked to the nearby post office, bought a money order and dropped it in the mail to Tennessee. He had until December tenth, but there’s no reason to fuck around and forget. He doesn’t need a warrant for his arrest over an unpaid speeding ticket.
It’s well after dark when Eddie finally comes out, he's been in there for hours and hours. Steve had wandered around the area, sightseeing while he waited. Then he took a nap in the car. When Eddie climbs in beside him, Steve doesn't see anything visible on Eddie, but it must be there somewhere.
“Well?” Steve asks. Eddie looks tired and worn down.
“Driver, to the motel,” he teases, reaching over to squeeze Steve’s thigh.
In the motel room, when Eddie sheds his shirt, there's a huge bandage on his back, up to his shoulder.
"Can I see?" Steve asks, very curious about what might be under there. It’s gotta be big with a bandage that size.
"Tomorrow. Gotta keep it wrapped tonight," Eddie says.
Steve's not sure he can wait until tomorrow.
Eddie
"Ugh, I am not a stomach sleeper like you!" Eddie whines, trying to get comfortable on his stomach.
"You know I'm a stomach sleeper?"
Eddie looks at him like he's crazy, "We've shared a bedroom for almost two months. Yes, Steve, I know you sleep on your stomach."
Steve laughs, "Can you not just lay on your other side?"
"And face away from you like a weirdo? You can't spoon me, so I'm just going to look at the wall?"
He knows he sounds ridiculous. He's just overtired and overstimulated from the long tattoo session. It was probably a little too big of a tattoo for one session, but they’d powered through since he wasn’t local and couldn’t just come back for a second appointment and now he’s suffering the consequences.
"Can we not just switch sides of the bed for tonight?"
Eddie had not thought of that.
"I guess that would be acceptable."
Steve laughs, but he comes around to the other side and lays down so they face each other. Steve offers him his hand and Eddie takes it.
"Thanks."
"Anything for you," and Steve leans forward and kisses him on the forehead, before settling back on his new side of the bed. Eventually, Steve rolls over and situates himself in Eddie’s arms, letting Eddie hold him.
Steve
When Steve carefully helps remove the bandage the next morning, it's a tree. A huge tree, one of the ones they saw in the National Park. At the base are two small figures. They aren't terribly detailed, due to their small size in comparison to the tree, but it's Eddie and him, from one of the photos they’d taken together on the day they first kissed.
Eddie has a tattoo of him on his body. It could be anyone, really, it’s not like it’s a portrait of him. Just a dark, little silhouette. But Steve knows it’s him and that makes him swallow, mouth dry, "It's awesome."
"Thanks, it’s the General Sherman," Eddie answers, trying to get a good look in the mirror, twisting around at the waist.
Steve follows Eddie’s exact instructions and helps him wash and moisturize it since it’s in a spot Eddie can’t really reach on his own.
Eddie is clearly amused, standing in the doorway of the motel bathroom, watching Steve scrub his hands like he's about to perform surgery.
“What?” Steve asks, meeting his eyes through the mirror.
“I appreciate that you don’t want to get my tattoo infected, but that might be a little overkill. You’re not taking out my appendix,” Eddie teases, smiling at him in the mirror.
“Better safe than sorry,” Steve answers, still scrubbing.
Eddie
"Let's bang one out before we go," Steve says, spread out on the bed, in just his underwear, looking inviting when Eddie comes out of the bathroom, after he’d carefully taken a shower.
"And they say romance is dead, Harrington."
Steve laughs and Eddie loves the sound.
Eddie finds the flared end of the plug with his fingers and his dick twitches at the thought of Steve doing this, getting himself ready while Eddie was in the shower. He thought Steve would like it, knew it, but didn't expect Steve to be willing to even try it after his shyness in the store.
“Fucking hell, Harrington,” he says, and Steve laughs, a delighted sound.
Eddie taps on it gently with his knuckle, and Steve squirms from the vibrations.
Eddie digs around and pulls out the pumpkin pail that he's started storing the sex supplies in to find the good lube and condoms he'd already packed. Steve is not a fan of the sex pumpkin, said he thinks it is perverted. Eddie told him McBoo's face says he's also shocked by his new job, but it is what it is. Times are tough out there. There aren't many job opportunities for a Halloween pumpkin in the middle of November.
Both of their test results came back with no surprises, but they haven’t actually discussed if and when they’re going to act on them. So, Eddie rolls on a condom and slicks himself up.
Steve is poured into the passenger seat, body loose, his Wayfarers on his face, hair messy. He looks thoroughly debauched, it's sexy as hell.
Eddie fumbles for the camera at the next stoplight, takes a picture. He wants to capture this sight, keep it forever.
"Like what you see, Munson?" Steve asks, an easy smile on his face. Eddie takes another one with Steve looking at him.
"I just want photographic evidence of this day where I've done all the work, princess," Eddie teases, rubbing Steve's knee.
Eddie loves seeing Steve this relaxed, and Eddie takes great pride in the fact that he's the one that chilled him the fuck out.
When they get the roll developed, Eddie takes the duplicate of the picture of Steve in the car and cuts it down to fit in his wallet. It sits right next to the other picture of Steve sitting in the car. The one that Eddie thought was going to ruin him.
He's been pleasantly surprised how wrong he was.
Steve
They get out and switch drivers, and Eddie finally picks up the atlas. It's been days. Steve's had to wait and wait for him to notice. Finally Eddie sees the edit Steve had made to the list and Steve smirks to himself when Eddie makes a loud noise of protest.
"Steve Harrington, you have vandalized my list!" Eddie shouts, shoving his finger onto the paper, affronted.
"Would we say vandalized, or improved?" Steve asks, unable to hide his smile.
"I don't negotiate with terrorists," Eddie states, scratching out Steve's writing, leaving his own note underneath.
Steve leans over to see what he's written, and then laughs out of loud.
"We'll see," Steve says, smirking.
Eddie leads Steve down the trail to Glass Beach in Fort Bragg.
“Oh, wow,” Steve says, reaching over to pick up a handful of the smooth, colorful pieces of glass, letting them fall back through his fingers.
“This was all trash, and the waves beat them down into this. Cool, right?” Eddie asks, and Steve nods. It’s very cool.
Steve eventually picks out an interesting piece of black glass and pockets it.
They drive through the Chandelier Tree. Another tourist tree that has a hole in it, meant for cars to drive through. It was kind of down a narrow, off the beaten path road, just to get to it. They have to stop at a little booth to pay to go any further. Eddie hands Steve the cash with a smile.
Also right nearby, Eddie had seen a roadside sign for something called Confusion Hill and directed them towards it.
“Oh, this is so weird,” Steve says, holding onto the railing, tight. It’s trippy as fuck. Steve feels almost a little sick, it’s making him feel weird, for sure.
Eddie is giggling at Steve’s inability to get his bearings. It doesn’t seem to be affecting him that much at all, and Eddie jumps up and grabs the bar, letting the trick pull his feet out to the north.
Steve can tell Eddie loves this place. He’s checking out each trick in detail, trying to figure out exactly what is happening to make the illusions work. The fact that they are allowed to roam free and explore each attraction for themselves without a guide is just adding to Eddie’s excitement.
It’s so weird in here, Steve doesn’t at all understand how it works. Eddie pushes Steve down into a chair that feels level, but then Steve can’t get out of it by himself without Eddie’s help. He likes that they aren’t selling this place as magical, and Eddie is vibrating with excitement.
“Okay, explain this to me, Mr. Wizard,” Steve says, holding onto the provided railing as he watches Eddie roll a golf ball what appears to be downhill, only for it to come right back to him.
“It’s just an optical illusion,” Eddie answers, “it’s built on an angle and since you can’t see the horizon or anything to orient you, it looks like it works backwards. It doesn’t, it just isn’t level, like it seems.”
Steve nods, “It feels real.”
“That’s what makes it so cool!” Eddie says, smiling at Steve, taking his arm to help him move further into the house.
Steve thinks Dustin would love this place, too. He’s also this kind of nerd.
“I’m so glad we stopped here,” Eddie says as they ride a weird little train that goes forwards and backwards and moves from track to track.
Eddie is bouncing on the balls of his feet. They are standing in front of a map at an attraction called Hobbiton, USA.
Steve doesn’t know what the fuck this is supposed to be. They are like the creepy statues you see in kiddie parks of nursery rhyme characters, but the map looks like something he'd seen Eddie make for a D&D campaign for the kids last summer.
They go on a walk around this weird little attraction, Eddie pushing buttons at each stop that are playing recordings of this story. It sounds like it could be Eddie, in full D&D mode, to Steve.
Steve doesn’t know who the fuck Bilbo Baggins is or why Eddie is so excited to walk like a mile to see these kind of ugly cement sculptures, but he’s following him.
“It’s the story of The Hobbit, Harrington!” he says, excited.
“What’s that alien?” he asks, pointing at the green alien. It looks like it belongs in Roswell.
“That’s Gollum!” Eddie declares, “Well, it’s supposed to be Gollum.”
“Okay…”
They walk through it all at least twice, Steve is pretty sure they’ve seen these creepy statues before.
“This is awesome, I love this. Take a picture of me with Gandalf, I gotta send it to Henderson.”
Steve just smiles at Eddie and does what he says. Anything to make him this happy has to be a great place, as far as Steve is concerned.
Apparently there are lots of these drive-thru trees, because Eddie sees the billboard for another one, and leads them to the Shrine Tree. Steve kind of thinks that once you’ve driven through one tree, that maybe the novelty should have worn off, but not for Eddie, apparently. So through another one they go.
It’s getting dark, so they find a little motel room, and it’s cozy, rustic. Steve is tired when they fall into bed early, but he’s happy. So happy.
In the morning, they are in a tiny town on the coast of California, and Eddie comes out of the little market, and goes into full information mode. Steve just grins. Maybe Eddie should be a history teacher.
They'd seen a weirdly carved tree trunk in the parking lot along the side of the road and Eddie needed to know more about it.
“Okay, this is the Orick Peanut. It was a protest gift for Carter, you know, because he was a peanut farmer-”
“Yes, I’m aware of who Jimmy Carter is,” Steve snarks, dryly. He may have slept through a lot of his government class, but he didn’t completely lose the plot.
“Anyway. It was a protest of the expansion of the Redwood National Park here, because it would affect the loggers and their ability to make a living. If it was made into more National Park, they couldn’t do their jobs, because they couldn’t cut the trees down. So they made this peanut in protest and took it all the way to Washington and when it was refused, they brought it back here to display.”
“And on what side do you fall on in this debate?” Steve asks, wanting to hear Eddie’s opinion. He actually isn’t sure which side Eddie will take on this one.
“Well, um, I…this is a tough one. I mean, fuck the government, but also? I love the parks and the trees. So, I guess, I’m Switzerland?”
Steve laughs, “Nice to meet you, Switzerland. I’m Steve,” Steve says, laughing, before grabbing Eddie’s shoulders, guiding him back towards the car. “Are you ready to get back on the road? Or are we going to look at this lump of wood all day?”
Eddie laughs, and settles into the car, then looks over at Steve, “I lied. I’m not Switzerland. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m on the side of government, or, at least on the side of the trees. Maybe that's not very anti-establishment of me, but I think they deserved to be saved. I’m sorry that it killed the economy for these small towns, but some of those trees were like two thousand years old, and shit, they were just decimating them. Redwoods grow fast, for trees. I’m not opposed to growing new ones to log, but they’d logged almost all the old growth out before the parks were even created. All that history, gone. Humans, we ruin everything, man.”
Steve reaches over and touches his cheek, smiling softly at him, “Your secret is safe with me.”
He likes that Eddie is tenderhearted, even when he’s worrying about old trees that Steve would never even think to think about.
Driving down the Redwood Highway, Eddie has him detour off onto the ten mile scenic parkway. While driving through all that tree-lined asphalt, Steve looks around and is pretty sure he will always consider these to be Eddie’s trees.
It isn’t long before Eddie finds another tree to drive through, but this one is pretty cool, there’s other stuff nearby, including giant statues of Paul Bunyun and Babe. And the Trees of Mystery.
When they get close, the Paul Bunyun statue starts talking and makes Steve jump, which Eddie finds hilarious.
When they get back in the car, Eddie says, “If I don’t fuck this monkey, we’re on track to at least drive through all forty-eight contiguous states,” Eddie tells Steve, looking at the atlas on his lap.
“Fuck this monkey,” Steve repeats, laughing.
“Screw the pooch,” Eddie says.
“Shit the bed,” Steve adds.
“Please don’t,” Eddie banters back and they both laugh.
It is too dark to see anything at Crater Lake tonight, so they rent a room at a little motel nearby and try to get comfortable for the night. Eddie is struggling to fall asleep. His new tattoo itches like a motherfucker and there isn’t enough room in this tiny bed.
Because for some godforsaken reason, Steve got them a pair of single beds. Eddie tried to push them together, but they were bolted to the fucking floor. Like, who is stealing beds? Seriously, what the fuck?
Steve is snoring beside him, totally oblivious to the problem. Probably because he’s occupying the majority of the bed at the moment.
"You're hogging the bed," Eddie tells Steve, nudging him, trying to get him to move over, "you're going to push me to the floor."
Steve mumbles in response, but doesn't make any attempt to move over.
"Harrington!"
Steve snaps awake, "What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?"
"I’m okay,” he tells Steve, touching his arm, he didn’t mean to scare him. “But we cannot share a single bed if you won't scoot over, just a little."
"I'll get the king next time," he says, still all but asleep, but he scoots over a little.
"I think we’ve had this conversation. That won't at all be suspicious. Queens would be fine. I could work with doubles. But no more singles, this sucks."
"All they had were these or a king," Steve mumbles.
"Well, these are too fucking small for two adult men."
"You want me to get in my own bed?" Steve asks, giving him the big, sad eyes.
"For fuck's sake, stop it with the eyes. Of course not. But I need us to rearrange. Big spoon or little spoon?"
"Little," Steve answers, rolling over onto his side, facing away from Eddie.
"Great," Eddie says, wrapping his arm over Steve's waist, "thank you."
"Talk me back to sleep," Steve says.
"I can do that," Eddie answers, pulling Steve tight against his body.
Steve
Eddie's chest is flush with Steve's back. And Eddie is talking about nothing, really, just talking. And Steve loves the sound and the feeling of Eddie's deep voice rumbling against his back. It's incredibly soothing.
He tries to stay awake, but he's tired and it's very relaxing.
His last thought is how funny it is that he used to find Eddie's constant chatter annoying, and now he's using it to soothe himself back to sleep.
In the morning they are able to look at Crater Lake in the daylight. It’s beautiful. The water is so blue, so clear.
Eddie
After Crater Lake being so bright and beautiful, it makes Seattle look a little gloomy in comparison. They’ve been here several days, thinking the next one will be better, but it’s been cloudy the entire time. At least it’s not raining, he guesses.
Eddie ran out and found some takeout Chinese, one of the few options he found open on Thanksgiving day. It’s not turkey, but it was really good. He’s currently walking around the room, eating leftover chicken fried rice out of the takeout container, mainly out of boredom.
Steve is propped up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, legs crossed over each other, watching football. He’s been eating pretzels out of the vending machine and has a bottle of beer resting against his thigh. Eddie is so bored. He’s trying to bite his tongue. Steve watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with him this morning, so he’s trying to be gracious. But either this is a very fucking long football game, or he’s watching two of them back to back. Eddie’s not totally sure which.
“Come sit with me,” Steve says, spreading his legs out, inviting Eddie to come sit between them, putting his beer on the nightstand.
Eddie doesn’t want to watch football, but he does want to do that, so he toes off his shoes and crawls on the bed. Puts his rice next to Steve’s beer. Eddie settles in and leans back to rest his head against Steve’s shoulder. He’s careful not to rub around on his tattoo too much, but it is healing nicely. It’s starting to peel and Eddie’s enjoying that it’s freaking Steve out.
Eddie closes his eyes, he can feel Steve’s heartbeat, steady and strong against his back. It’s soothing. Steve wraps his arms around him, hugging him loosely. It feels nice and Eddie closes his eyes, just for a minute.
When he wakes up, the game is over and Steve is asleep sitting up, still holding him. Eddie gently rouses him, helps him pull his t-shirt over his head and after he gets him undressed, he ushers him under the covers.
Eddie goes around to the other side and slides over across the bed.
Steve reaches an arm around to spoon him, but Eddie’s sure he’s pretty much asleep again already. When Eddie settles in, Steve slides his hand under Eddie’s t-shirt to touch his stomach. It’s comfortable, grounding.
“Night, honey,” Steve says, voice laden with sleep, kissing Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie smiles into his pillow. Well, that’s new. But he answers, “Night, sweetheart.”
Time seems to be speeding up and Eddie wants to dig his heels in, and make it stop. They are on a collision course for home and he’s regretting that he told Henderson they’d be home by Christmas. They have less than a month and he doesn’t think that’s enough time. It’s never going to be enough time.
Steve
The next morning Eddie is reading an issue of Newsweek that he must have taken from the hotel lobby. They had a whole table of periodicals and a sign saying to help yourself. Eddie had grabbed three or four different magazines and a newspaper on their way out. The Newsweek cover story is covering the AIDS crisis and Steve is definitely never mentioning the condom situation again.
Sure, everything came back negative, but he’s not pushing Eddie on this. He doesn’t know why he even suggested it in the first place. He’s never, not once, asked a girl to do that with him. The only explanation he can come up with is that he’s a drunken idiot. It’s something they never have to do, if Eddie doesn’t feel comfortable.
It takes most of the day, but they make it to Big Arm, Montana and settle into a really nice cabin right on the water.
When they go to bed, Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s hips and guides him over onto his knees. Steve hangs his head as Eddie pushes into him. Steve tries to concentrate on the slide, the drag, but he feels off. Uncomfortable. Eddie is hitting all the right places, and it feels good, but at the same time he kind of hates it.
"Can we change positions? I'm uncomfortable," Steve finally says.
"Yes. Of course," Eddie answers, "are you okay?"
Eddie gently pulls out and carefully flips Steve over, touching his face, "Do you want to continue? We don't have to, you can always say no," Eddie tells him.
"I want to."
"Tell me what was uncomfortable first."
"Nothing hurt," Steve assures.
"Emotionally uncomfortable?" Eddie asks, looking worried.
"I guess?" he doesn't really know what that means, but he wasn't in physical pain, he knows that.
Eddie eases down on the bed next to Steve, lays on his side right next to him, "I'm glad you spoke up. I don't want to do anything to you that you're not one hundred percent on board with, okay?"
Steve just nods, he's embarrassed, "I want you to finish."
"We have nothing but time, Steve, don't worry about that. Let’s figure this out," Eddie says, touching his arm, softly.
"I don't think I like it from behind. I know that's, like, the standard, but I don't. I don't know why, I'm sorry." He feels like a hypocrite. He's loved to fuck girls from behind, so he feels guilty that he's acting like this. He feels stupid telling Eddie that, but he just doesn't like it. And they've been using positions that keep Eddie off his back to protect his fresh tattoo, so it's been in heavy rotation.
He doesn't feel degraded, he'd let Eddie do any number of depraved things to him if he wanted to, so he feels stupid that this very basic thing makes him feel anxious. Telling Eddie makes him feel anxious, too, so he’s really fucked this up. He feels like he's taking something away from Eddie, and without a good reason, at that.
"Don't apologize, you don't like what you don't like. We won't do it again," Eddie says.
"But-"
"Steve," Eddie says, soft and close, "you don't like it, so we it's not something we do, okay?"
"Okay," Steve agrees, pulling away from Eddie enough to push Eddie into his back, "let me drive for a while," he says with a smile, straddling Eddie's thighs.
"Okay, give me a second," Eddie says, reaching down to try and stroke his flagging dick back to full hardness. It's not the easiest thing with the now loose condom on him.
Steve reaches down and grabs a new condom, slides the old one off Eddie, "Let's just start over," and works Eddie with his hand until he's ready to go again.
He rolls the fresh condom down Eddie's length, slicks him up with some more lube.
"Wait, you can still drive, but I don't think my tattoo is ready for this kind of friction just yet, here, let me up," Eddie says, and gets himself into a seated position in the middle of the bed, then he pats his lap.
Steve brackets his legs around Eddie's waist and with Eddie's help, slowly sinks down.
"Oh fuck, that's good. Deep," Steve says and Eddie wraps him up in a tight hug.
They're chest to chest, and Steve wraps both his arms around Eddie's neck and kisses him. They couldn't be any closer.
When they break apart, Steve runs his hand over Eddie's hair, looking in his eyes. Steve swallows. They went from what felt like impersonal fucking to…whatever this is. It sends lightning up Steve's spine, and he swears he can feel his heart flip over in his chest.
If he wasn't sure before, he definitely is now, looking into Eddie's eyes as Eddie gently rocks up into him.
Steve’s in love.
Notes:
You want to see Gollum from Hobbiton, USA? Okay, here you go. Enjoy your nightmares, lol.
That was the actual Newsweek cover for that week in 1986.
Here's an article on the Castro neighborhood from an 1986 article in The New Yorker magazine. I learned a lot from it. It's kind of a look back at the 70's and Harvey Milk, so the whole thing is interesting, but very long. If you want to search for "There were four gay centers in San Francisco" then it will go in detail about the different neighborhoods. And I found the quote "What was surprising was not that these varieties of dress existed but, rather, that their wearers did not seem to mix any more than did warbler species," to be very fitting for this story. That Steve and Eddie would have looked like members of two vastly different sub-cultures in this very gay friendly city just by their choice of clothing.
There are so many touristy things along the 101 in California. I wish I could have had them explore them all in detail, but this chapter was already unwieldy in size!
Here's a short documentary called Enough is Enough from 1977 that was made by the Associated California Loggers in protest of the conservation of the redwoods. President Carter signed the Endangered American Wilderness Act of 1978 and added 48,000 acres to the Redwood National Park, more than doubling it's previous size.
Photo credits: Fort Point from Google Maps. Cable car and Seattle from Wikimedia Commons. Twin Peaks from Insight Guides. Ramrod from Lost SF Facebook. Glass Beach or Orick Peanut from Wikipedia. Confusion Hill from their official site. Hobbiton USA from Atlas Obscura. Redwood Parks sign and Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway from NPS official site. Paul Bunyun and Babe from the Library of Congress. Newsweek from Nov 1986 from eBay listing.
Chapter 17: Islands in the Stream
Notes:
We're heading into the home stretch! Thanks so much for all the feedback and support! I'm so thrilled to know so many of you have been enjoying this. <3 <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
too deep in love and we got no way out
and the message is clear
this could be the year for the real thing
Islands in the Stream, Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers
Steve
It's really cold in Big Arm, but the cabin is nice and has a fireplace. Eddie didn’t quite seem to trust him to light it, but together they got it going and the place hasn’t burned down yet.
Steve sees Eddie sitting out on the edge of the private dock, all bundled up, his breath showing up in the extremely chilly early morning air.
Steve slings the quilt over his shoulder, shoves the black, knit hat in his coat pocket and grabs both cups of coffee he made. Eddie's black, his own with cream and sugar.
Eddie turns to smile at him over his shoulder when he reaches him, accepting the mug with his gloved hands. Steve kisses him on the top of the head as he sits down beside him, and puts the quilt over their legs. He pulls the hat out of his pocket and tugs it on Eddie’s head.
Eddie smiles at him.
The sun rises over the lake and it's beautiful. Peaceful.
The cabin has a record player but only a handful of records to go with it. Eddie carefully flips through them, settling on the best choice. A little Otis Redding never hurt.
When it's over, Eddie gets up, changes the record.
Steve laughs, "You're not serious."
Eddie laughs with him as the first notes of Let's Get It On start playing, "I think this is a sex cabin you've rented us, Harrington. If you think you can find something better, something less horny over here, please, knock yourself out."
Steve gets up to look over Eddie's shoulder as Eddie flips through the options and then Steve cackles with glee, grabbing the next one.
"No. Absolutely not," Eddie argues. But he loses, and Steve puts on Afternoon Delight.
It is the honeymoon cabin. Steve had asked for the nicest one they had, and that was the best, so he took it. It had two bedrooms, so Steve assumed it would still keep up appearances.
They have the cassette player. They could just use it, play their own music, but they seem married to the record player idea.
They spend the rest of the day in the cabin. They lay on the quilt in front of the fire, just touching each other. Working their way through all the sex songs. It's quiet in a way this trip hasn't really been, and Steve loves it. Loves Eddie. He knows he does, without question.
He didn't want to fall in love, not with anyone, not after Nancy. But now that he's in it again, he doesn't know why he'd ever not want this. He doesn't want the pain that being in love seems to always bring him when they inevitably break his heart, but the actual love? That's pretty fucking nice.
"Okay, are we doing this?" Eddie asks, lube in his hand, no condom.
"If you want to," Steve says.
Eddie nods, but he looks scared.
"Eddie," Steve says, leaning up on his elbows, "we don't have to do this."
"I want to, but I'm a little nervous," he admits.
"Okay, tell me why," Steve says.
"I don't know," Eddie says, not meeting Steve's eyes.
"Then we don’t, at least not right now," Steve says, leaning over the edge of the bed for the sex pumpkin bucket, pulls out a strip of condoms, tearing one off.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, taking it from him.
"Don't be sorry, I'm not," Steve answers, getting back into position, wrapping his legs around Eddie while Eddie rolls the condom on himself.
Eddie pulls Steve to the edge of the bed and standing there next to it, slides into him, "This okay?"
Uh, yeah, Steve thinks and nods.
The power Eddie can put behind his thrusts while standing makes Steve cling to the sheets. Holy shit.
"Deeper," Steve demands.
"Jesus Christ, this is already deep," Eddie says, but maneuvers Steve's legs over his shoulders, "don't let me hurt you."
"I won't, I promise," Steve says and holds on for the ride.
Eddie collapses on the bed, sprawling out, facedown. Steve rolls over and sees Eddie's bare ass and can't help himself. He reaches over and smacks him on it, "Good game."
"Ugh, no, I don't do sports, Harrington," Eddie says, muffled by the pillow he's buried his face in.
Steve laughs as he heads for the shower.
When he gets out of the bathroom, Eddie has rolled over on his back, chest bare, tattoos on full display, sheet slung low on his hips.
Steve stops, freezes, right in the middle of toweling his hair dry when he sees him. Really sees him. He grabs the camera from the dresser, snaps a picture. Another.
Eddie poses a little, being silly.
"Jesus Christ," Steve says, "you're gorgeous."
"Stop that," Eddie says, waving him off.
"No. You are," Steve insists, kneeling on the bed, leaning over him, face close, "I'm so in love with you, in case you were wondering."
Eddie flushes, embarrassed, chest getting splotchy.
"I love you, too. In case you were wondering," Eddie repeats, leaning up to kiss Steve.
Steve never dreamed he’d fall in love on this trip, especially not with Eddie Munson. He’d have bet a good amount of cash that the likelihood of him murdering Eddie for annoying him had better odds. But here they are. In love.
And Steve wasn't even scared to tell him that. He can feel that Eddie loves him back, he gets it now. Knows what it feels like to really be loved.
They take a whole roll of film of each other, lounging in bed, on the floor, in the mirror. Eddie barges in the bathroom and takes one of Steve sitting in the tub.
They're not pornographic by any means, but they are very intimate, so they know they probably shouldn't just drop them off to be developed.
Steve carefully marks the roll. He'll figure something out. Will ask Jonathan for help, maybe, if he gets really desperate.
Steve wakes up with a start in the middle of the night, but Eddie is sound asleep beside him. It must have been some wildlife noise outside that woke him up. Steve realizes it’s been a long time since Eddie’s had a nightmare, maybe not at all since they started falling asleep in the same bed at night.
He lays back against his pillow, then scoots onto his side and spoons Eddie. Eddie's right, Steve is a stomach sleeper, always has been, and he often wakes up that way no matter how he starts the night, but he’s getting more and more used to sleeping on his side so he can curl around Eddie. Or Eddie can curl around him. Steve’s definitely not picky.
He’s asleep again in a minute.
The following morning, Eddie borrows a few other records from the front desk in the main lodge. When the country music starts up, Steve claps with glee. Eddie pushes the couch out of the way, giving them more space.
"Now, I usually do the part that I'm trying to show you, so bear with me," Eddie says and then he starts to run down the basics. He gets Steve to just give him his two middle fingers and then raise his arm, and Eddie hooks his hand in Steve’s fingers, and spins under his arm.
"I'm in control of the spins, but you control when we start and stop. When we're facing each other, lower your arm and we stop, raise it, I spin," Eddie says, and pulls down Steve's arm gently.
"I have no rhythm," Steve says, trying to do what Eddie tells him.
"Well, we both know that's not true," Eddie says, crowding against his chest, smiling.
"For dancing," Steve laughs, hugging Eddie to his body, tight, kissing him.
They get going into a clunky rhythm, Eddie is trying to smooth it out, but Steve's a little stilted, nervous.
Steve starts to lower his arm while Eddie is not quite facing him, "Not yet, that's hard on the rotator cuff."
"Sorry!" Steve says, correcting himself.
Then they are dancing again. It takes a little while, but eventually Steve has learned enough that he can spin Eddie around the living room, Eddie's long hair flying around, as he laughs.
"I think this is now the gayest thing I've ever done," Eddie says, smirking at Steve.
"Oh, you sure about that?" Steve laughs, raising an eyebrow.
"Absolutely, this is way gayer than getting fucked, hands down."
"I'm not sure that's true," Steve teases, "but I didn't figure you to be one to care," Steve says, lowering his arm as soon as he sees Eddie's eyes again. Pulls him closer.
"I don't. You wanna dance with me, I'm in. I don't have anything to prove."
"I wanna dance with you," Steve says, softly. And so they do just that.
"I think you've got it," Eddie tells him a little later, “the next time you’re in a country bar you’ll be able to dance with all the girls,” Eddie says.
“Yeah, but now I won’t want to,” Steve says, pushing Eddie’s hair back off his face.
Eddie blushes and then goes and puts on a slower song, and just slides back into Steve’s arms.
They dance together, learning to play off each other, step by step. Eddie will lead for a while, then Steve will. The song is perfect, and it gives Steve a lump in his throat.
You do something to me that I can't explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
When it’s ending, Steve declares, “This is our song.”
Eddie laughs, “This is not our song.”
“It is. You’ll see,” Steve insists.
Eddie is out picking up lunch so Steve calls Robin.
"What's wrong now?"
Steve laughs, "Nothing. We're good. I just miss you." He does miss her a lot.
"You're going soft, Harrington," she says, but he can tell she's pleased she hasn't been completely replaced.
"Shut up," he laughs.
"Happy birthday, dingus," she says, "you guys doing anything special that my ears won't bleed hearing about?"
"Hey! You were the one asking for all the explicit details, pervert."
"Such lies."
"You know I'm not much of a birthday guy, so I didn't even mention it, so no. We're in a nice cabin, though. In Montana."
"Gross, you're in a sex cabin."
He laughs, big and loud, "We really are. All the records are sex music. It's hilarious."
"Did you pay extra for that, or?"
"Ha," he says, and really, he wishes he was that clever.
"Nancy called yesterday. I think Jonathan and her are done, done."
"Yeah? We saw Jonathan a couple weeks ago. He didn't say anything like that," but Jonathan really hadn't said much of anything.
"You stopped to see Jonathan Byers on this trip but not me?!" she screams in his ear.
"Believe it or not, we haven't been in Indiana recently. And Eddie just bought weed from Argyle. It was like twenty minutes, tops," he says, trying to talk her down from the ledge.
"Ugh. Fine," he can tell she's hemming and hawing about something.
"Spit it out, Buckley."
"I hesitate to say anything, but she asked about you."
Steve doesn't really know what to say to that. Robin fills the silence. She always does.
"She said you could call her, if you wanted to."
"I won't be doing that, but thanks for passing on the message."
"Good. I think that's a good call, Steve. See where this goes with Eddie, first. Give it a chance."
Steve knows where this is going, where it's already long gone.
Steve smiles, then stage whispers, "I have a secret," he says, winding her up.
"Ooh, tell me all your secrets, Harrington."
"Ask me what you asked me before."
"What did I ask you before?" she asks, sending them in circles.
"In the bathroom," he prompts.
She has to think about it, before it clicks into place.
"No!"
Steve smiles, "I'm in love," he says, and she squeals right in his ear, "I'm in love with him."
"Did you tell him that?!"
"I did," he smiles, "he loves me, too."
"Duh, dingus."
Steve smiles. Eddie loves him. He doesn't know how he got so damn lucky all of the sudden.
"I can't believe this is happening," she says, and she sounds more giddy than he is, if that's possible.
"Happy birthday to me," he laughs, tucking his feet under him on the couch.
They are still gossiping when Eddie comes back in the front door, birthday cake in hand.
"Eddie's back, with a birthday cake," he says, smiling at Eddie.
Eddie comes over, kisses him, "Happy birthday. Hey, Buckley!" he shouts in the direction of the phone.
Steve holds it out so she can yell back, "You're a good boyfriend, Munson!"
Eddie laughs and waves his hand dismissively.
Steve hangs up and follows Eddie into the kitchen, wrapping him up in a hug from behind, "I didn't know you knew."
"I had your fake ID made, of course I knew."
Steve smiles into Eddie's neck, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Eddie says, opening the takeout containers.
"She's right, you are a good boyfriend," Steve tells him. They've never used that word before, but they are boyfriends as far as Steve's concerned.
"Shit, you're embarrassing me, stop it," Eddie says.
But Eddie smiles and Steve presses his face into Eddie's cheek, it's still cold from being outside, "I love you."
Eddie
They make it to Yellowstone, but Eddie thinks hitting these National Parks in the winter maybe wasn't the best plan he’s ever had. The visitor centers are closed for the season, so Eddie just has to ask the people at the cabin rental place for information. The snow is a challenge to navigate in the car, but he buys snow chains to put on Steve's car as needed, and they manage.
It does make for some cozy, private evenings in cabins, snow falling outside the windows. Eddie feels like they are the only two people in the world.
He pushes into Steve, and Steve gasps a little, tilts his head back exposing his neck. Eddie dips down to kiss the expanse of skin and Steve digs his fingers into Eddie's back in response. Eddie is so in love with him he doesn't know how to handle it sometimes. It feels like a dream.
He feels like he might die just from the sounds Steve is making under him. It’s intoxicating to know he’s the one making Steve sound this way. Feel this way.
He never imagined any of this happening when they decided to take this trip.
“I don’t know about this,” Eddie says, letting Steve strap the snowshoes on his feet.
“If you can walk, you can snowshoe,” Steve assures.
He’s right. They walk some of the trails and it’s really cool. It’s a way to see some wildlife, and the wildlife in Yellowstone is awesome. They see all kinds of animals out in the snow. Foxes, bison, elk, moose and they have a twenty minute argument about whether an animal they saw in the distance was a wolf or a coyote. Eddie hopes the picture he took of it turns out so he can find out for sure, somehow. He’ll find an expert to ask. Because it was a wolf, he’s sure of it. It was too big to be a coyote.
“Do you think we’ll see a bear?” Steve asks, and Eddie looks at him.
“Well, bears hibernate for the winter, so probably not.”
“I’m an idiot,” Steve laughs, “I swear I knew that.”
“I know, I’m sure you’ve seen Yogi Bear,” Eddie answers, patting him on the shoulder.
Steve gives him a sarcastic laugh, but smiles.
The snow coach is fun as shit to ride in, and gives a decent tour of places they definitely couldn’t get to by car, or foot, this time of year. But it's still really fucking cold. Even in the new heavy parkas, boots and thick gloves Steve bought for the both of them.
They stand around and wait for Old Faithful to erupt. Eddie’s working through the dirty joke possibilities in his head.
“Shit, fuck, that’s a bear,” Eddie hisses, and Steve instinctively pushes Eddie back and steps in front of him, getting between him and the bear although they are a couple hundred yards away from it.
Part of Eddie thinks he should probably protest being treated like a girl, but he knows it has nothing to do with that, not really. Steve would put himself between anyone he cared about and any perceived danger. It’s just how he’s wired.
He reaches forward and squeezes Steve’s gloved hand, “We’re okay. It’s pretty far. Let’s just back away, slowly.”
Later, Eddie asks around, and apparently bears don’t all hibernate here until mid-December, so they didn’t really see anything too out of the ordinary.
“Sorry I acted like you were an idiot when you asked about bears,” Eddie says, “I’m the idiot, clearly, since, well. Bear.”
Steve laughs, “You definitely aren’t an idiot, Eddie. I would have asked the same thing two weeks from now or two months from now, when they were definitely all hibernating. So, I got lucky on this one. And hey, we saw a bear and it didn’t maul us. Win, win.”
Eddie is lounging on the couch in the cabin when Steve comes back with some groceries from the little general store down the road. He also hands over a newspaper, which Eddie takes, with delight.
"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, kissing him on the cheek.
"They didn't have much to choose from," Steve says, pulling out a couple boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese and a package of hot dogs.
"Careful, you're going to make me homesick for the trailer, Harrington," Eddie teases, but helps look for a pot to boil some water.
Steve puts the quart of milk away in the fridge, and sits the box of Honeycombs on the counter for breakfast tomorrow.
He picked up a canister of hot chocolate, too. After they eat, Eddie makes some on the stove and they settle on the couch in front of the fireplace.
"Two truths and a lie," Eddie says.
"Ugh, now we're playing car games indoors?" Steve teases.
"Yep. Cough 'em up, Harrington."
Steve thinks.
"I've never been this happy. I'm ready to go home. I've never loved anyone like I love you."
Eddie swallows, then teases, "Why didn't you tell me you were ready to go home?"
Steve rolls his eyes, puts down his mug and wrangles them both so they are laying down, Steve hovering over Eddie.
"I'm in love with you, whether you like it or not," Steve says, defiant.
Eddie leans up and kisses him, "I like it."
"Your turn," Steve demands, he's clearly not doing this alone.
"You're the first person I've ever loved this way. I want you to fuck me."
Steve scrunches up his face, "That's only two."
"I can't think of a lie, let's go to bed," Eddie says, running his hands up and down Steve's back.
"We can do that," Steve says.
The next day Steve takes him skiing nearby and Eddie takes to it pretty quickly, clearly making Steve nervous by being a little too fearless. Eddie wants off the bunny slope, hates every minute of it. Steve finally relents and lets him graduate to the greens.
When Eddie reaches the bottom of the hill, he turns and watches Steve ski down towards him, and thinks he’s graceful. Athletic. Eddie did just fine, but he imagines he didn’t look near that comfortable or confident.
Steve stops in front of him and slides his goggles up, “You good?”
“That was awesome,” Eddie answers, “let’s go again.”
Steve nods.
The second time Eddie ends up going ass over teakettle halfway down and now he can’t seem to right himself back onto his feet. He knows Steve saw the whole thing because he’s insisted on following Eddie down every slope. Fucking embarrassing.
Steve stops in front of him, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, but I can’t seem to get up.”
“No problem,” Steve says, then starts giving him directions, “get both of your skis parallel to the slope,” and he waits for Eddie to do that. “Good, now get your body into a C shape, and go up on your hands like you’re doing a push-up.”
“Like this?”
“That’s great, now kind of walk your hands backwards towards the tips of your skis until you feel balanced enough to stand.”
Eddie does.
“Whoa. Cool. Rich people really like skiing, huh?”
“We really do,” Steve laughs, and it's a sweet sound, “you good? Nothing hurts?”
Eddie nods, “Yep, I’m good. Let’s go!”
Steve laughs, and motions for Eddie to lead the way.
By the time they get back to the cabin all the little stores are closed, so they have to forage through their bags for anything to eat.
Eddie has half a dozen candy bars in his backpack that have seen better days from being beaten around, but it's definitely better than nothing.
Eddie is a little sore in the morning from skiing the day before. Steve digs around in his bag and finally returns the favor, rubbing Bengay into Eddie's sore muscles. Steve is not nearly as clinical as Eddie had been.
“Watch where you’re putting those hands, there are places I do not want to feel the burn,” Eddie demands, and Steve laughs, but is careful to stay away from any sensitive areas.
They leave Yellowstone early and make the short drive to Grand Teton and get breakfast. They were both starving after the missed meal the night before.
Steve is eating like he’s hungover, but Eddie doesn’t blame him. He’s just as hungry this morning.
At the lodge they stop to stay at, there's a black and white cat that greets them at the door. Eddie is instantly smitten.
Eddie sits in one of the big, soft chairs by the fireplace and pets the cat while it stomps all over him looking for a good spot to curl up.
Steve gets them a room. When he's finally got the keys, the cat has settled in on Eddie's lap for a long winter's nap.
"I can't get up," he says pointing at the sleeping animal, "Larry is sleeping."
"You've named this cat Larry?"
Eddie rolls his eyes, "I didn't, that's just his name."
"And he told you this?"
"Yes, we discussed a lot of things," Eddie says, sarcastically. "No, dingus, he's got a tag on his collar," and clearly Steve never even considered that possibility.
"Oh," Steve says, and sits down in the chair across from Eddie's, "and don't call me dingus."
Eddie looks at him, trying to figure out if he's in a bad mood.
"Robin calls me dingus. I don't want to get those wires crossed," Steve laughs, giving Eddie a wink.
Eddie smiles in return.
Steve gets comfortable, clearly he understands that they aren't going anywhere any time soon.
Eddie loves Steve, like a lot. But he hates this. He hates this more than he’s ever hated anything in his life. Okay, that's not true, as the horrific image of poor Chrissy Cunningham pushes itself to the forefront of his mind.
But this is definitely the worst thing he’s experienced that didn’t take place during that awful spring break from hell.
Or when Steve got assaulted at that bar.
Okay, so it’s not the worst thing he’s ever been a party to, not by a long shot. But the point is, he’s having a bad time. He’s freezing to death. And trying to pull a fish out of a hole in ice is definitely not what he considers fun.
Steve is having a grand ol' time, though, so Eddie smiles and hopes he ends up like the movie version of Jack Torrance sooner rather than later. At least his suffering would be over if he's a human icicle.
He could be back in the lodge holding Larry by the nice warm fire, not freezing his ass off, standing on ice.
"Isn't this fun?" Steve asks and Eddie kind of wants to push him in the hole. If only it were a little bit bigger.
"You're freezing," Steve says, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's arms when they get back to the room.
"I don't think my circulation is great," Eddie answers.
"We won't play around outside in the snow anymore. Sorry," he says, "I didn't know you were so cold."
Steve ushers him into the bathroom of the cabin and flips the switch that turns on the overhead heat fan, and it flutters to life in a whirl of noise.
Eddie lets Steve undress him and manhandle him into the hot shower.
"Better?" Steve asks.
Eddie peeks around the curtain and smiles, "Yes, thank you."
"I'll go find something to eat, you get warmed up."
When they get back on the road, Eddie’s bundled up for winter. He bought a throw blanket at a truck stop. It has a very ugly print of horses on it. Steve clearly hates it, which makes Eddie love it more.
The broken seal on the window is letting in a little cold air on Eddie's side.
"I'm glad your car has a good heater," Eddie says, warming his hands in front of the vent.
He'd pulled on one of Steve's long-sleeved polo shirts this morning. It's soft and striped, black and gray, at least, but still looks nothing like something he'd wear. He just wanted an extra layer, he's been freezing this last leg of the trip.
"My battle jacket is on the backseat," Steve offers, and Eddie reaches back for it, smiling that Steve is using his own words, without even thinking about it.
Eddie slides it on and smiles. It smells like Steve. He knows he's too far gone to go back now, so he's just going to lean into it for as long as Steve will put up with him.
"Next big city, we'll see if a dealership can fix the seal."
"That would be an expensive way to replace weatherstripping," Eddie comments.
"Yeah, but they might have the right stuff on hand, not something they'd have to order in."
Eddie nods, he can't disagree there.
Steve
They stop at a thrift store and Eddie nearly vibrates with excitement when he shows Steve what he's found. It's a Mustang Ranch t-shirt. With an illustration of a naked girl on it and everything.
It says where quality keeps them coming right on the front and quality control supervisor on the chest. It's hilarious. Steve kind of wants it for himself.
"What do you want with a naked lady shirt?" Steve asks, trying to wheedle him out of it for his own pile. Eddie is trying it on in the small thrift store dressing room. Seeing it on Eddie, Steve’s not sure it would even fit him, since it fits Eddie like a glove.
"It'll be ironic," Eddie answers, and there will be no talking him out of it, Steve is certain.
He'll just have to steal it later.
“So what, exactly, are we supposed to be looking at?” Steve asks, peering out of the windshield. It’s cold, too cold, to want to get out and look around Deadwood, South Dakota on foot.
“History,” Eddie says, “there were illegal brothels still open until just a few years ago. Like you could just go upstairs in most of these downtown buildings and just pay for sex. For like, a hundred years.”
Steve shrugs.
“Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, you know, history. Have you ever read a book?”
“Not on purpose,” Steve sasses, “and why are you obsessed with brothels? I’ve heard the word brothel more times in this car with you than I have ever before in my entire life.”
Eddie looks over at him, "You're still not getting my shirt."
Steve sighs dramatically, “I don't want your shirt."
Steve wants his shirt.
Eddie ignores him.
Steve adds, "Why am I always surrounded by nerds?”
Eddie laughs, “You’re lucky to have us.”
“I am,” Steve says honestly, reaching over to squeeze Eddie’s knee.
Eddie covers Steve’s hand with his own, squeezing back gently.
“We’re obviously months too late for the rally, but it’s still cool to see where they hold it every year,” Eddie says, driving through Sturgis.
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Steve asks.
“No,” Eddie says, “I’ve never had motorcycle money before now. And Uncle Wayne thinks they’re too dangerous.”
“I agree with him,” Steve says. They are involved in too many other dangers to add motorcycles to the mix, “Though, I like your boots.”
“My boots?” Eddie asks, not following Steve's train of thought.
“Your motorcycle boots. Your club boots. The boots you wore while your Reebok’s dried out, in Branson,” Steve answers, then feels a little stupid, but since he’s all in, so he forges ahead. “When you pulled them out for the first time I thought they were sexy. I didn’t mean to think that, it just popped into my head, but, yeah. Sexy.”
Eddie smiles, soft and charmed, “I’ll wear my sexy boots for you any damn time, big boy.”
Steve laughs, meeting Eddie’s eyes.
They stop at a gas station and they are selling some souvenirs, so Eddie is able to pick up a patch for the jacket. He doesn’t get a Sturgis one, no, he picks one that looks like a ticket stub and says pound town on it.
When they get back into the car, Eddie hands it to Steve, "Here's your ticket to pound town."
Steve laughs.
Eddie sews it on the inside of the jacket, their own dirty, little secret.
Eddie
They stay at one of the little motels outside of town.
“What the fuck is this layout?” Eddie asks, looking at how weirdly the beds are set up when they walk in the room.
Steve laughs, “You can sleep in the little bed in the closet.”
“Is that a gay joke, Harrington?” Eddie asks, pretending to be offended.
Steve just giggles.
“Shit, imagine how awkward this would be if we weren’t fucking?” Eddie laughs.
Eddie circles it as best he can, "Is it a Murphy bed?" It looks like it could go up in the wall, he's just not sure it actually does. The hole seems too wide.
He gets on his hands and knees and looks under it. He doesn't see any hydraulics.
"What are you doing?" Steve asks, watching him.
"Just looking. Seeing if it folds up into the wall. I don't think it does."
"Glad we solved that mystery," Steve teases and Eddie smiles.
He likes that Steve never really gets onto him for being too curious about everything. He'll tease him, sure, but he's like Uncle Wayne in that way. They both let him figure things out when he’s curious. And he knows he’s always curious.
Eddie comes stomping out of the bathroom in just his sexy boots and his boxers, “You wanna knock boots?”
He doesn’t see Steve, “Harrington?”
Steve is standing at the head of the bed over in the little weird alcove, completely hidden in the wall. Steve giggles and gives himself away.
They both end up laughing at each other.
“Okay, no, I take it back,” Steve laughs when he sees Eddie’s outfit, hopping down and flopping on his back on the other, normal bed. He opens his arms and Eddie jumps on him. Steve rolls them over, until he has Eddie under him.
The boots come off, but Steve still rides him.
When it's over, Eddie is smiling at him.
"What?"
"For such an uptight person, you're a wildcat in the sack, you know that?"
Steve laughs, "Thanks? I think."
"I'm definitely not complaining, it's just been a surprise."
"I'm not really uptight about sex, I guess," Steve offers and he never really has been. If it feels good, he's in.
"You're just uptight about everything else," Eddie teases and Steve shoves at him, playfully.
Steve
The next day they stop and look at Mt. Rushmore.
“That’s it?” Steve asks. It looks so small from where they are.
“That’s it,” Eddie agrees and they get back on the road, but not before Eddie finds a patch for Steve’s jacket.
“This is a huge hotel, goddamn,” Steve says, as he looks out the passenger side window.
They made it to Estes Park, Colorado and Eddie has driven them straight to this giant hotel for some reason. There has to be a reason, this is not Eddie’s usual style.
“Do you recognize it?” Eddie finally asks.
“Should I?” Steve counters.
"History says no," Eddie laughs, "this is where Stephen King stayed and was inspired to write The Shining."
"Oh. Is it haunted?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
“Yes, let’s please stay in a maybe haunted hotel. What could possibly go wrong?” Steve deadpans, and Eddie grins, pulling the car into a parking spot.
“I’ll protect you from Casper, Harrington, don’t you worry.”
As far as Steve can tell, it isn’t haunted, just a little creepy.
Steve wakes up in the middle of the night to Eddie thrashing beside him. This hasn't happened in a while.
"Eddie," he says softly, trying to get him to wake up, without scaring him.
"Honey, you're okay," Steve tells him, touching his arm, gently.
Eddie snaps awake, bolting upright. He’s quiet for a minute as he pulls himself out of it.
"Shit. I thought maybe those were over," he finally says, sinking back against his pillow.
"You okay?" Steve asks him, anchoring his leg over Eddie's thighs.
"Yeah, guess we shouldn't have stayed in a haunted hotel," he laughs, voice tired.
Steve smiles, kisses the side of Eddie's head, “I won’t say I told you so.”
“That’s nice of you,” Eddie laughs, closing his eyes again.
“We’ll stay somewhere else tomorrow night,” Steve assures.
In Colorado Springs, they visit the Garden of the Gods. It’s different from the other parks and not nearly as snowy as Yellowstone or Grand Teton had been last week.
The rock formations defy gravity in places, and Steve is only a little concerned about being crushed by one in an avalanche.
After that, they go to the Royal Gorge and it is noticeably warmer than it had been in Estes Park. Eddie says that it sits in a banana belt, whatever that is.
They ride the gondolas across the gorge and it’s equal parts terrifying and spectacular. You can see the bridge and the river below, the mountains in the distance. It’s just a little nerve wracking and Steve is glad when they hit solid ground again.
They trek down to the huge suspension bridge, and start walking across it. When they reach about the middle, they stop and look out over the gorge.
“This is the highest bridge in the world,” Eddie says, looking over the edge, down to the river below.
"It's pretty. A little scary, but really pretty," Steve laughs, then adds, “just like you.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, laughs, and they start walking towards the other side to go back to the car.
They’ve been driving east for several hours, and have crossed into Western Kansas. It’s felt like hours of driving across the open plains. There’s been a few small towns to break up the monotony, but pretty much just open fields as far as the eye can see.
Eddie turns off into a small town, Holcomb, drives through it and then heads down a long, dirt road that is surrounded by farmland.
“What are you doing?” Steve asks, looking around.
“You’ll see,” Eddie answers, cryptically.
He finally stops in front of a little farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere.
"Where are we, Harrington?"
"Middle of nowhere?"
"It's the Clutter house."
"The what?"
"Truman Capote. In Cold Blood, is that ringing any bells?"
"No. Who the fuck died here?" Steve asks, a little annoyed, "That should not be a question I have to ask all the time, Eddie. It's weird."
Eddie just laughs, "Oh my god, read a book, Harrington. Don’t start with Helter Skelter, it's a fucking doorstop. But In Cold Blood is so good. It's like a novel. But true. True crime, which Capote kind of invented, I think. I mean, it existed, but nothing was told like he told it. Riveting."
“You can read it to me if you want to, but otherwise? Pass.”
"You're something else."
"Haven't we seen enough death?" Steve asks. Steve's seen enough for a lifetime, he doesn't really feel the urge to do much morbid sightseeing.
"That's fair," Eddie replies and turns the car around, looking a little admonished.
"I want you to see what you want to see, Eddie. Murder houses included."
"I know, sorry I'm so weird."
"Hey," Steve says, gentle and kind, "you are perfect, just as you are, even with your interest in true crime, and all. I'd change nothing. I like to give you shit, but I want you to be you, Eddie. Don't tamp down anything about yourself for my benefit."
Eddie smiles shyly, "Thanks. That was a really nice thing to say."
"I'm serious. Be weird. Be the freak. Be smart and kind. Be nerdy. Just be Eddie, because I love him."
Eddie leans over and kisses him, quickly, before turning his eyes back to the road, "Thanks, sweetheart."
It’s warmer in Dodge City, Kansas than it had been in Colorado, and definitely warmer than it had been in Yellowstone. Steve’s happy about that, the cold was really starting to get to him, and he knows how much it was wearing on Eddie.
The town smells like shit, though. Literally.
Eddie is driving and he pulls into a monstrosity of a motel with a full on western theme. Even the name is stupid, the Stampede Motel. But Steve goes along with it. It’s absolutely ridiculous. The room has actual saloon doors in it separating the living room from the bedroom.
After they’ve settled in, Eddie goes and asks the front desk what there is to see in town and they direct him towards Boot Hill.
Eddie also just asked them why it smells and apparently the answer is cattle feedlots because there are lots of meat packing plants in town.
Saying Boot Hill was something to see, might be a bit of a stretch, Steve thinks. It’s a little replica of their historic front street, with little fake storefronts you can go into, but not much else. It’s a pretty short stop and there isn’t much else to see in town.
Unless they want to look at the meat packing plants, which they really don't.
They find a good Mexican restaurant to eat at, and then sit in their very, very western themed motel room and play cards. Eddie had picked up a postcard for Dustin, so they write the note on it together, laughing, tugging it back and forth across the little table in the motel room.
“There better not be a cowboy hat in the car,” Steve says as Eddie puts the stamp on it.
Eddie just laughs, but Steve is relieved, later, that there isn't one that he can see.
The next morning, Eddie says, “Let’s get the hell out of Dodge,” reaching over and petting Steve’s leg.
Steve laughs, "You think the smell is why that's a saying?"
Eddie nods, "For sure. There were a lot of feedlots for meat packing plants on Gunsmoke," and he giggles, but get out of Dodge they certainly do.
They’ve only been on the road a little over thirty minutes when Eddie yells, “Hey, pull in there!”
Steve all but slams on the brakes, thankful there isn’t much traffic here on Highway 50.
“What? What are we looking at?”
“We’re at the halfway point between New York and San Francisco! Does that not feel like it’s kismet, or something? We’ve been to both of those places on this trip!”
Steve lets Eddie jump out and he takes his picture by the handmade sign. Whatever makes him happy.
“Hey, there’s a little motel right there, you wanna fuck in the center of the United States?”
“I don’t think this is the center and it’s,” Steve says, looking at his watch, “a quarter after nine in the morning.”
“So?” Eddie says, waggling his eyebrows at Steve.
“Are you seriously going to go ask to rent a room by the hour?”
“Well, no, we don’t have to be that obvious about it. We can just leave the key in the room when we’re done and skedaddle.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Fine. Get the sex pumpkin. But you’re renting the room this time.”
Steve lays back and lets Eddie fuck him. Eddie hasn’t even taken off his clothes. He just unbuckled his jeans, pulled down his boxers and tugged Steve to the edge of the bed. Now he's standing there, fucking into him. Eddie’s clearly looking down and watching his dick slide in and out of Steve in the warm morning light that is bathing this motel room, even with the curtains pulled shut. Steve thinks everything about this is hot. It feels a little desperate and kind of dirty, and Steve’s getting off on it.
Eddie puts his hand on Steve’s chest, holding him down against the bed.
“Fuck yes,” Steve whines and he kind of wishes Eddie would be a little more vocal. It’s the only time he ever shuts up, and this morning Steve would kind of appreciate a little dirty talk, “Fuck me, Eddie, watch me take it.”
"Jesus H. Christ, Steve,” Eddie huffs out, a little breathless.
Steve is squirming, he’s so horny. He didn't even know he could be horny like this while already being fucked.
“Why are you wiggling?” Eddie asks, slowing the pace to check in.
“I’m horny, keep fucking!” Steve says and Eddie laughs.
“I’m getting that embroidered on a throw pillow,” Eddie teases, but picks up the pace again, and changes the angle just a bit so Steve will get what he’s chasing. Steve appreciates that.
Eddie just drives into him, over and over, keeping a steady rhythm. Steve knows that's not always easy to do, but fuck if it doesn't work wonders. If this is anything like being fucked as a girl, he now gets why they'd get so annoyed if he changed things up or needed to pull out to take a break to stop from coming. Finding the right spot and just steadily keeping at it, he really gets that now.
Goddamn, does he ever.
Steve suddenly feels hot all over, he thinks his face is burning up and his heart is beating out of control. He arches up off the bed, surprising Eddie as much as he surprises himself. It’s like something is rolling through him.
“Oh fuck,” Steve says, twisting at the waist as he rides the sensation spreading throughout his entire body, lighting every nerve ending on fire.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, still thrusting, holding his legs so he can’t get too far away.
“Ungh,” Steve answers, collapsing back onto the bed again, “keep fucking me, keep fucking me,” he says and Eddie keeps fucking him.
It's not stopping, if anything it's getting more intense.
His dick is leaking and part of him wants to stroke it, but the louder part tells him to leave it alone, and just keep riding these waves.
"Right there," Steve directs, "just like that. Holy shit, Eddie. I love you," and Eddie doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to be listening, he's zoned out.
Steve knows that look, Eddie's hanging on by a thread.
Another wave hits him and he wants to scream.
Eddie's resolve crumbles and he thrusts once, twice more, before coming.
"Sorry, I tried to hold on as long as I could," Eddie says, as he starts to pull out and he deals with the condom.
Steve just lays there, immobile.
"You want me to?" Eddie asks, looking at Steve's dick, still hard against his belly.
Steve isn't sure he even needs that, to be honest, but he nods and Eddie strokes him until he comes and it feels like a nice cap to the rest of the experience.
"That was the best sex I've ever had," Steve says.
"Me too, sweetheart."
They’re both going to need another shower before they can leave this room today.
And Steve’s going to want a nap after this, not to just be starting the day of driving.
Luckily, Eddie knows this about him, so when they go back to the car, he takes the wheel and Steve stretches out like a cat in the sun.
When he's rested, Steve grabs the atlas from the dash and starts scribbling on the list again.
"Harrington! Stop that!"
Eddie pulls the car over to see what he's writing now. Steve just giggles, twisting away from him.
Eddie comes out of a truck stop on the other side of Kansas with a cinnamon roll as big as his head. It must weigh two pounds.
“How, exactly, do you plan on eating that in my car?” Steve asks, suspicious of the mess it is surely going to make.
“I’ll be careful!” Eddie says, but two bites in, there’s thick, white icing falling to the floorboard.
Steve sighs, audibly.
“I heard that!” Eddie says around a mouthful.
“You were meant to!” Steve says, but he smiles. He’ll make Eddie vacuum out the car the next time they see a car wash.
Eddie comes out of the used bookstore he saw and demanded to stop at with a bag, and he waves it at Steve.
“If you have time to read, I’m not doing this right,” Steve teases.
“You want to eat BBQ made in a gas station?” Steve asks, looking out the window, suspicious, “Are we exclusively eating from places that sell fuel now?”
Eddie hadn’t wanted dinner the night before because of the cinnamon roll from hell. Steve had to eat McDonald’s in the car while Eddie whined about the smell because he was sick from eating a giant cinnamon roll and nothing else.
“For sure,” Eddie says, swinging shut the car door, “we have dinner reservations at the Kum & Go.”
Steve doesn't even get to respond to that, because Eddie pushes Steve’s back, shoving him towards the building with the green awning. There’s a line stretching out the door, well into the parking lot. That’s always promising.
The BBQ is great, so Eddie feels vindicated about his life choices.
They finally find a BMW dealership while they are in Kansas City that can replace the weatherstripping if they can leave the car overnight. So they pick a hotel nearby, unload all their shit and then drop it off so they can walk back and forth.
They spend the evening while they're waiting around, lounging in bed. Eddie caresses Steve’s scars from being dragged in the Upside Down, presses soft kisses to his spine. Idly draws lines between the moles on Steve’s back with his fingertip, just exploring the map of his skin.
He's glad Steve didn't endure having his moles all removed for no reason. He's so beautiful just as he is.
"I'm ready, if you're still okay with it," Eddie says, holding up the condom.
"I'm definitely okay with it," Steve says.
Eddie’s still nervous, Steve can tell, but he thinks it’s in a good way, now.
“If you change your mind, at any time, just say so,” Eddie tells him.
“Same for you, honey,” Steve says, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist.
"Okay," Eddie says, and he slowly pushes in, skin on skin.
It's a much smoother slide, but other than that, Steve can't really tell a big difference. It feels more intimate, but it's not as different as he thought it'd be, at least on his end.
"That's good," Eddie says, petting Steve's hair as he pulls Steve closer to him, "that's really good."
Eddie
This is overwhelming. He thinks it’s mostly the trust they’re placing with each other that’s the best part. He trusts Steve not to hurt him, and Steve trusts him to do the same.
He loves Steve.
“I love you, Steve,” Eddie tells him, and swallows hard. He thinks he could cry, which would not send the right message at all.
“I love you, too,” Steve answers, stretching up to kiss him.
He’s not going to last. The sensations are too new, too heightened.
He comes, and Steve holds him on top of him, in him, for a very long time. They can do that now, with no condom to deal with. He stays there long enough to start to get hard a second time, so he gives shallow, little thrusts, testing the water, seeing if he's going to get fully hard again so soon. He does. Finally, he pulls out just enough to add more lube, but they go again, and this time he is able to focus on really getting Steve off like he knows he can.
Afterwards, Eddie is wrung out and in need of a shower.
"What did it feel like to you?" Steve asks, rolling onto his side to face Eddie.
"Warm, really warm. There's more slip. I could actually feel you in ways I can't with a condom. You?"
"The slip was nice. I could feel the warmth, too. And sometimes I feel like a condom is almost chafing me, and there wasn't any of that."
"If I'm hurting you, say something, Steve. We can add more lube or I can just get the fuck out of you, if it hurts," Eddie says and he means that. "Sex doesn't have to be me sticking my dick in you, okay?"
They do it that way a lot and Eddie thinks he should have been more aware there was an issue. That makes him feel like he's a jerk, “I'm sorry for missing the signs you were uncomfortable.”
"I want you to stick your dick in me," Steve says, grinning at Eddie.
"I am aware of that, believe it or not," Eddie laughs, "but let's not do it to the point that it's hurting you."
“I said almost chafing me, not that it actually was. If you’re hurting me, I’ll tell you.”
Eddie nods and Steve touches his face, “You felt really good, Eddie. You always feel really good.”
They do it again in the morning, lazy and slow in bed. Steve wakes him up early, pulling Eddie on top of him, while they are still both sluggish with sleep.
Eddie slides in and makes a soft noise in Steve's ear.
"You feel so fucking good," he tells him.
Eddie isn't sure if his mind is playing tricks on him, but it's a way easier entry and doesn't require nearly as much prep. They stay in bed so long they have to rush around to pick up the car on time. Steve seems annoyed by the walk to the dealership, when he hadn't been the day before. It's cold, but it's not that cold.
Moody Steve hasn't made an appearance in a while, so Eddie is caught a little off guard.
Once they've gotten back to the room, Eddie psychs himself up to ask. He really hopes he didn't fuck things up. If this is about the barebacking, it was Steve's idea and now he's being all weird.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," Steve says, but he's clearly not okay.
"If I did something wrong here, tell me."
Steve flushes a little, and finally sheepishly tells Eddie that he doesn't even really like it.
"I mean, I liked it. I like you in me. I liked it when it was happening, a lot, but now. I'm wet," he says, clearly embarrassed.
Eddie nods, encouraging him to go on.
"It's leaking out and that feels gross. Especially when I'm walking around, trying to live my life. I'm wet and I'm not having fun right this second."
Eddie just smiles when Steve tells him all this, tries not to laugh. He hugs him. He's not mad, he's amused. He's relieved. This is an easy fix.
"Steve. This is a non-issue, we won't do it anymore. It wasn't so good that I'd want to make you uncomfortable."
"Can we just, like, put a pin in it until we get home?"
"Absolutely," Eddie agrees. The prospect of this thing between them being something they continue at home is way more inticing to Eddie than condomless sex will ever be.
Was it better? Sure. Enough that it's a deal breaker? Absolutely not. They've got options here, whatever Steve wants: all condom, all the time. Condom to finish. Pull out. This is not an issue as far as Eddie is concerned.
"I thought you'd be mad," Steve says, smiling at Eddie.
"I'm definitely not mad. I was worried, but not mad."
Eddie is smitten by this man, laughs at him, "You're ridiculous, but I still love you."
Steve smiles, "Back atcha."
“Let’s get you in the shower, clean you up,” Eddie offers, and Steve nods.
Eddie adds, "You can do it to me tonight, if you want, for payback. Retribution for my sins."
That night, Steve does. Comes deep inside Eddie, nothing between them.
Eddie doesn't have near as many complaints.
Steve
After they've each showered, Steve curls into Eddie's side, as Eddie opens the book he'd bought at the used book store, "We'll make you learn something after all, Harrington."
"Okay, Eddie," Steve agrees, already yawning.
Eddie reads from In Cold Blood, while Steve lays against him.
Eddie reads and Steve listens, loving Eddie’s voice echoing softly, rumbling against the arm he has slung over Eddie's chest.
He’s retained exactly none of this book, but falls asleep comfortably, easily, listening to Eddie’s soothing voice.
Notes:
I really wanted to use “help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” when Eddie was down on the skis. But that wasn’t used in a commercial until 1989. Boo.
I couldn't seem to find out for sure, but I'm not convinced that is a Murphy bed either. One of the other rooms in the same motel appears to have a hardwired light on the back wall behind the bed.
The Royal Gorge bridge is no longer the highest bridge in the world, but it is still the highest bridge in the United States.
Since I established the Supernatural universe is the same, I had to go with the Stampede Motel in Dodge City that Dean was so enamored with, haha.
Oklahoma Joe’s didn’t open until 1996. In this universe, it must have happened a decade earlier, lol. I haven't cheated and went timey wimey much in this fic, but Roadtrip Eddie would love to make Steve eat BBQ in a gas station, so it had to happen, even if the timeline isn’t quite right.
Imagine, if Steve did ask Jonathan to help him develop that roll of film:
"Are you asking me to develop naked pictures of you? And Eddie Munson? Just so we're clear."
"Not naked, naked," Steve huffs, offended at the accusation.
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to when we hated each other and you'd never ask me to do something like this?" Jonathan snarks, but snatches the roll of film from Steve's hand.
Photo credits: Joe on the floor from Pinterest. Joe in the tub from Interview Magazine. Wolf from Yellowstone Park. Snow coach and In Cold Blood from Ebay. Yellowstone sign from Travel is Beautiful. Snow cabin from Mammoth Mountain Chalets. 1980s candy from Collecting Candy. Grand Teton sign from Travel Wyoming. Larry from I Iz Cat. Ice fishing from Best Ice Fishing in America. I can’t find the Mustang Ranch shirt again, I found it months ago and didn’t think to take note. Pound Town ticket on Amazon. Hotel room with weird beds from Planet of Hotels - but it actually exists in South Dakota, near where they were! That was fun! The Stanley Hotel from USA Today. Garden of the Gods from their official site. Royal Gorge gondola from Pinterest. Royal Gorge Bridge from their official site. Stampede Motel from Supernatural. Boot Hill and Kinsley sign postcards both from eBay.
Chapter 18: Time in a Bottle
Notes:
Many thanks to everyone who has read, commented, given kudos, bookmarked, etc. so far! It means a lot, as always! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
but there never seems to be enough time,
to do the things you want to do,
once you find them
i've looked around enough to know,
that you're the one i want to go through time with
Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce
Eddie
Sioux Falls, South Dakota was cold. Fargo, North Dakota was colder. Minneapolis, Minnesota and Madison, Wisconsin were more of the same. Everywhere they’ve been has been cold, cold, cold. They haven’t encountered too much snow, thankfully, but the chill in the winter air is still biting.
It’s like the cities are passing in a whirlwind, blurring into each other and Eddie feels like he’s seeing nothing in them, because he can’t concentrate on anything other than the passage of time. The days just speed by, and he’s regretful that time is slipping away from them. Early on, it seemed like the days were moving slowly, like they had all the time in the world.
Now, it feels like an hourglass has been flipped and all Eddie can do is watch the grains of sand slip through, quickly, already gone.
He’s grieving the loss, more than he thought he would. He’s not lost anything, not really. He knows that. Steve’s still right by his side. But for this freedom they've been so lucky to have, the end is nigh.
Before Eddie knows it, it’s the week before Christmas and surprise, surprise, it’s cold in Chicago. Not freezing, but almost. They rent a really nice hotel suite with two rooms, both with King beds, to basically hole up for three full days. Their last days on the road. They have repeatedly told Henderson they’d be home by Christmas, so they intend to make good on that promise.
Even if they'd both rather keep running.
It's not feasible, of course, and they'd run out of money eventually, but these have been the best months of Eddie's life in a very long time.
Eddie reads the newspaper that was dropped off at the hotel room door this morning while Steve sleeps. He's snoring, just a little and Eddie wonders if he's always snored, or if it started after all the broken noses he's surely had. Either way, it’s comforting to hear Steve, still right there, still sleeping soundly.
In the paper, Eddie sees that there's a Bulls game tonight in town, so he sneaks down to the concierge and basically begs for help getting tickets. The man takes pity on him and before game time, Eddie has two tickets to the Bulls vs Jazz game.
Eddie doesn’t care about basketball, or Michael Jordan or any of it. But Steve does. Steve told him all about how good Jordan is, and Eddie had listened. Had also listened to him wax poetic about fellow Hoosier, Larry Bird.
Eddie can't get him Celtics tickets to see Bird, at least not today, but he can get him in the stands to see Jordan.
Mainly, he wants to surprise Steve with something he’d enjoy. They’ve spent the majority of this trip doing what Eddie wanted to do, and he wants to repay Steve, at least in the smallest of ways, for that kindness.
He wants to make him happy. He just always wants to make him happy.
Steve’s whole face lights up when Eddie produces the tickets, and sitting through a night of watching men toss balls into laundry baskets is totally worth it for that smile.
The stadium is a large, open space that’s shaped so much like a barn, that it echoes loudly with the rising noise. It's loud before the game even gets started. The exterior was nothing to look at, but the acoustics inside are kinda wild.
Eddie’s not into sports, but the energy of the crowd is contagious. It kind of feels like seeing live music, so he gets the appeal, at least on that level. This might be the definition of hearing a crowd roar. This is no high school basketball game, that’s for damn sure.
When they cut the lights and start up the music to announce the starting line up, the crowd goes crazy. When Jordan is announced last, you can barely hear anything beyond, "From North Carolina…" before the announcer is drowned out by the crowd going buck wild.
It is, in fact, a madhouse.
Eddie tries to make a mental note to figure out what this instrumental song is so he can learn to play it on the guitar for Steve. He thinks he'd really enjoy playing Steve his own hype music as he does mundane things around the house. Steve brushes his teeth? Here comes the hype music. Steve does the dishes? Hype music. Steve folds his laundry? You guessed it, hype music. The idea alone cracks Eddie up, but Steve doesn't notice, there's no way in hell he could hear him over this crowd right now.
They don’t have great seats, but they aren’t in the nosebleeds, either. Which Eddie is glad for. The second balcony above them looks crazy steep, and he saw that you have to climb an old, spiral staircase to get up there. In their seats on the mezzanine, the low ceiling almost wants to obstruct the view of the scoreboard, and he’s totally sure it does in rows further back. But Steve is glowing, giddy with excitement.
He seems just as happy as he'd be if Eddie had been able to snag floor seats instead.
There’s an absolutely massive organ that plays throughout the game Eddie would really, truly like to get a better look at. It so fucking loud. It’s amazing and he loves it. This arena is not called the Madhouse on Madison for nothing, apparently.
When Eddie comes back from a smoke break, Steve is so into the game, he doesn’t even see Eddie standing there, watching him, at first. Eddie doesn’t mind the opportunity to just see him in his element, happy.
When he notices, he pulls the camera from his lap and snaps a picture of him.
The Bulls lose by two, but in the years to come they’ll be able to say they saw Michael Jordan play.
“Man, my ears are kind of ringing,” Eddie says, as they walk back to where they parked the car.
“Mine too. It’s generally considered the loudest stadium in the NBA,” Steve offers.
“I believe it,” Eddie answers, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.
When they find the car in the parking lot, Steve unlocks Eddie’s car door first, to let him get out of the cold, and Eddie smiles to himself. It’s nothing, really, but it was thoughtful. Steve treats him with a kindness that he didn’t know he was missing in his life. He definitely didn’t see that coming, Steve always seemed a little quick to snap around the kids, with a really low tolerance for their bullshit. Despite how much he loves them.
“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I know it’s not your thing, but I had a lot of fun,” Steve says, turning in his seat to look at Eddie.
“I had fun, too. Honest. I didn’t really care about the actual game, but it was a lot of fun people-watching, and I enjoyed the hype of the crowd,” Eddie says, then adds, “I like seeing you excited. Happy.”
It’s late, and dark outside, but it’s still a busy public place, so Eddie’s breath hitches a little when Steve leans over and kisses him, soft and sweet. When he pulls back, Steve says, “I’ve wanted to do that all night."
Eddie doesn't get a chance to answer, because they both jump when the car parked in front of them honks. The man throws his hands up in the universal what the fuck is wrong with you gesture.
Steve flips him off without really looking. It’s just a suburban dad with his two young boys, in an ugly, wood paneled minivan. Eddie doesn’t feel like they are in any danger.
“Stop,” Eddie says, grasping Steve’s hand, dragging it down, “he just thinks he’s protecting his kids.”
“Protecting them from what?” Steve asks, belligerent, “Seeing me kiss you? The fuck?”
Eddie doesn’t want to get into a debate about this. There’s the low tolerance for bullshit he was just thinking about, like he summoned an annoyance for Steve to react to. Steve is just too stubborn to understand that sometimes it’s just easier to fly under the radar. To not ruffle all the feathers you come across, just because their opinion on matters differs from your own.
It’s hypocritical, Eddie knows that, because he is abrasive, loud, and flamboyant. Brash. He was the one standing on lunchroom tables, purposefully making a scene, not Steve Harrington. So historically, he clearly likes attention being paid to him, even if it’s negative. He’s well aware of that. But he’s definitely not that way about being gay. He isn't comfortable with any extra attention being paid to him because of his sexuality. He doesn’t think Steve wants that either, he really doesn’t, but Steve’s moral compass is proving to be a problem.
He knows Steve believes he’s not doing anything wrong by kissing Eddie, so he’s not going to change his behavior, the other people just need to change theirs if they have a problem with it. While Eddie feels Steve's right about that, deep down, he also knows that’s just not how the world works. And Eddie isn’t out to try and change the world, but he’s afraid Steve might decide to be.
Eddie swallows, hard. Steve can’t act like this in Hawkins. That town will eat him alive, if he tries. He'll need to keep his head down and keep a respectable distance from Eddie, all the time, in public. Not most of the time, not some of the time, but always.
Eddie is concerned that it's going to be impossible for Steve to manage.
“Let’s just go,” Eddie suggests and Steve nods, turning the key over in the ignition, backing out of the parking space and pulling in line for their turn to exit the busy parking lot.
The next day they haven't gotten out of bed and it's already mid-afternoon. Eddie is laying fully on top of Steve, just letting him hold him close.
He knows it's soft, and not very metal of him, but he likes the feeling of just being held by Steve. The security. Steve is solid, grounding. Eddie digs his fingers into Steve’s bicep, and presses his face into Steve’s neck.
Later, Steve is curled behind Eddie, just stroking his back near his sequoia tree tattoo lightly.
“How’s it look?” Eddie asks.
"Good," Steve says. He knows Steve had worried when it started peeling, even though Eddie assured him that it was totally normal.
He didn’t know two people could just lay around in bed for hours, days, but they put the do not disturb sign on the door and are definitely trying it on for size.
Steve
Steve's in the shower lathering his hair when he hears the shower door open. He cracks open an eye, trying to not get suds in it, just in time to see Eddie stepping over the threshold, letting in a rush of cold air. Steve shivers.
"It's just me," Eddie says as he closes the glass door behind him.
Steve steps forward, letting Eddie get under the spray with him. They haven't really been taking showers together, and Steve doesn't know why.
Eddie wraps his arms tightly around Steve's middle, hugging him from behind.
"Hi," Steve says, leaning his head forward to rinse the shampoo out. Eddie's face is pressed firmly into Steve's back, between his shoulder blades, "Everything okay?" His voice is muffled under the water, so he's not even sure Eddie heard him.
"Yeah," Eddie finally answers, not letting go.
When Steve is fairly sure his hair is rinsed clean, it's kinda hard to tell at this angle, he pushes it back off his forehead and covers Eddie's hands with his own.
"I've been happy on this trip, with you," Eddie says.
Eddie doesn't seem very happy right now and it makes Steve's gut clench.
"Me too," Steve answers, rubbing Eddie's hands.
"I'm not ready for this to end," Eddie whispers into Steve's skin.
Steve knows how he feels, he's not ready to go home either, "Same. We can't stay here forever, though."
Eddie hugs him tighter, "I know. Doesn't mean I don't want to."
"Hey," Steve says, getting Eddie to let up just enough for Steve to turn around, "like I told you before, I'm not going anywhere without you."
Eddie nods.
The suite came with a huge soaking tub, so Steve gets Eddie out of the shower and runs a bath. Climbs in and has Eddie settle between his legs, trying to get him to relax.
Steve brushes Eddie's hair to the side, getting him to rest his head in the crook of Steve's neck, Steve's arms around him.
"Tell me your favorite thing from the trip," Steve prompts.
"You," Eddie says, not missing a beat.
Steve laughs, "Besides me."
Eddie thinks for a moment, "The giant trees. I liked looking at them, knowing how long they've been there before me, and how long they'll be there after."
"We'll plant a tree together someday. Not one of those, obviously, but a tree. We can leave something that will last."
"I'd like that."
"What was your least favorite thing?"
Steve regrets asking as soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows what it was. Eddie told him how much he hated seeing Steve get dragged across the asphalt during the bar fight.
“I know,” Steve says, not making him say it aloud, “my favorite thing was you, too,” he says, “really getting to know you. My least favorite was losing you in Texas. Jesus Christ, if I get gray hair prematurely, just know it started that day.”
Eddie laughs, “You’ll look good with gray hair. I hope I’m around to see it.”
“I hope you are, too,” Steve says and he really hopes that comes true. Even if this new aspect of their relationship doesn’t last, he hopes Eddie is in his life forever, in some way.
Robin is his best friend, but Eddie is a damn close second. In some ways, he thinks he's closer to Eddie. Eddie knows things even Robin doesn't. Not that he wouldn't tell her, he thinks he'd tell her anything, honestly.
But Eddie doesn't get worked up about the ugly or the sad, so it has felt easier to tell him the things Steve usually keeps buried, down deep.
"Best sex?" Eddie asks, playfully.
"All of it," Steve laughs, pressing his face into Eddie's hair, "but if you twist my arm, Big Arm. No, wait, the center of the US."
"I thought you said that wasn't the center?"
"Shut up, it's not. I checked the map. Lebanon, Kansas is the center," Steve laughs, "but those two are a tie."
"Both were good. We can try to have a repeat performance later if you want."
Steve smiles, "Yes, please."
Eddie
After they get out of the tub they go back to bed, and try to repeat both of those performances, as best they can. They have sex, nap and order room service. And do it all over again, and again. Eddie’s not sure if they’ve been dressed at all in the past twenty-four hours, beyond putting on the big, white, fluffy robes so they don’t traumatize the hotel staff at the door.
Eddie stays out of sight and Steve collects the food cart.
After, he watches Steve stand there at the table, totally naked, eating his club sandwich. Eddie's not sure why he needed to take his robe off to do that, but Eddie’s not about to start complaining about the view. It’s a nice view, to be sure.
"Are you looking at my dick?" Steve asks, following Eddie's sightline down, breaking the silence.
"Always," Eddie answers, smirking, “there’s a lot to see.”
"Ugh, it's a shower, which is a fucking curse. Always in the goddamn way."
Eddie laughs, Steve’s got much more than a shower, and surely he knows that.
"You're aware you've got a big dick, right?" Eddie asks, genuinely curious.
"It's not any bigger than average when it counts," Steve answers, "just the rest of the time, which is a shitty superpower."
Eddie laughs, "Sweetheart. You are girthy as fuck. Like, big big. Did you really not know this?"
"I don't think that's true, nobody else has ever said that," Steve answers, shoving fries into his mouth.
“Well, they obviously didn’t know what they were looking at, big boy,” Eddie teases.
Steve shrugs, like he doesn’t care one way or the other. Eddie thought he’d puff up a little, let his ego be stroked, but no, he’s still just eating like they’d been talking about the weather instead.
Eddie shakes his head, before taking a bite of his own sandwich. Steve’s something else.
In the middle of the night, Eddie wakes Steve up as he tries to pull him on top of him. He needs to feel the solid weight of Steve pressing him into the bed, at least one more time before they go home. He doesn’t even have to say it, Steve understands what Eddie is asking.
Steve’s sluggish with sleep, but he fumbles around for the bucket of supplies.
“Without, if that’s okay,” Eddie says, gesturing to the condom.
Steve nods, and throws it back in the bucket. Keeps the lube. Eddie knows Steve was just trying to be fair, not asking anything of Eddie he wasn’t giving in return. Eddie doesn’t care about that, they aren’t keeping score here. He wants to feel Steve. All of him.
Steve
They are both dragging ass getting checked out of the hotel. Neither want to leave this bubble. They eat room service breakfast in bed, and take another shower together.
While they are getting dressed, Eddie hands over his Mustang Ranch shirt.
Steve smiles, takes it and slips it over his head. It's a little tight across his shoulders and chest and biceps, honestly, but the way Eddie is looking at him is enough for him to keep it on.
When they get to the rooftop parking garage, there's a Corvette parked near them. Eddie has Steve pose next to it. It's cold, even in his patch-laden jacket.
"You ready?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods, ever so slightly. Steve feels the same way, of course they aren't ready.
When they finally settle into the car, Steve looks at Eddie, who consults the atlas and then gives him directions towards home.
Steve holds out his hand, palm up, an invitation. Eddie takes it and holds on tight.
Eddie
They talk and talk, like they haven't just been each other's sole company for months on end.
Steve drives and Eddie keeps asking him trivial questions, because he just wants to know more, know everything.
Steve loves bananas, but he hates pears, because they're too grainy.
Eddie played little league baseball and he really wasn't that bad at it, honest.
Steve prefers Nikes because they are always comfortable right out of the box. The Adidas pair he wore all summer at Scoops Ahoy kind of hurt his feet.
Eddie can use his fingers to whistle really loud, but he won't show Steve in the car, because he doesn't want to deafen them both. Their ears have only recently recovered from the ringing from the stadium noise.
They keep talking, and finally Eddie looks up, trying to figure out what town they're in right now.
"Oh, whoa, we're off course," Eddie says, realizing that they are in Elkhart, Indiana. They're too far east.
Steve's never, not once, gotten them lost from his directions, so Eddie's not sure what's happened here, especially so close to home.
Steve just smiles and Eddie realizes Steve's gone rogue on the directions on purpose, he just doesn't know why.
Steve
Eddie is trying to figure out on the map where they are going. Steve is enjoying it immensely, because Eddie's looking in the wrong state.
Just across the state line into Michigan is finally a city named Munson. Steve thought it was about damn time for Eddie to have his turn.
Eddie poses next to the sign and Steve snaps a few pictures. When Eddie gets back in the car, hands cold from being outside, he cups Steve's cheek and kisses him. Then smiles that blinding smile.
"Thanks, Steve," he says and Steve smiles.
He'd do anything for Eddie. Especially anything that would get him to smile like that.
They’re only a hundred miles from home. They could do it today and be done, but neither are ready for this to be over. Even after three months, it wasn't long enough.
Steve sees the road sign for Defiance, Ohio, and that seems fitting. He pulls over at the state lake, near the dam, killing the engine.
It's cold, only a couple days from Christmas, but they sit out on the hood, watching the water, as much of it as they can see anyway, in the darkness. Eddie shares his cigarette, Steve takes it willingly.
Steve shivers, he should have grabbed his jacket. Eddie sees it and shrugs off his leather jacket, the soft, worn-in one, slipping it over Steve's shoulders.
"You'll be cold," Steve says.
"I'm wearing layers, you're in a t-shirt."
Steve smiles at him, "Thanks."
"Anytime, sweetheart."
It smells like leather and Eddie. Steve breathes it in, deep.
Eddie
“Only one rule left,” Eddie says, smiling from behind his hair.
Steve lets Eddie pull him by the hand into the backseat of the car. It’s cold, cramped and far too crowded, but they rearrange themselves as best they can. Hovering over Steve, Eddie undoes Steve’s jeans, slipping his hand inside.
Steve jumps and laughs, "Cold hand!"
Eddie laughs with him, pulling it back out and rubbing them together to warm them up.
Steve fumbles around, finding the bottle of lube he’d thrown on the floorboard days ago. Eddie thinks Steve must have been ready for this, he knew it would happen eventually, it was the only rule they had left to mark off the list.
Eddie laughs when Steve presses it into his palm. It's freezing, too. Eddie gets some in his hand and warms it up. After he's sure it's not going to be frigid, Eddie gets a slick hand around the both of them, jacking them together loosely. Steve arches his back, hips pushing upwards, chasing more contact.
Steve kicks around, shimmies, until he can get his jeans down and off. Eddie knows what Steve wants, and brushes a slick finger against him, before pushing in. It doesn't take much, they'd had sex before they left the hotel in Chicago.
Eddie isn't sure how Steve isn't sore, the amount of sex they've had in past couple days. Sure they've switched it up a time or two, but Steve wants exactly this more often than not.
Eddie has no complaints. But he won't stand for hurting him.
"This doesn't hurt, does it?"
Steve shakes head and grinds down harder.
They fight for space, control, but eventually Steve gets Eddie on his back, rolls a condom on him and sinks down. At that, Steve throws his head back, exposing that long neck, "You feel so good."
Eddie grinds up into him as best he can, trying to make this quick. They definitely don't need to get picked up by the cops for fucking in public. He doesn't think indecency or sodomy charges sound like a fun time. That would not be a great end to this adventure.
Steve has a death grip on the headrest of the driver’s seat, using it for leverage to meet his thrusts.
Eddie holds Steve's hips, bouncing him up and down, watching Steve adjust his angle until he's writhing. It's a beautiful sight. Steve likes to be on top, but when he gets this far gone, Eddie knows he has to be the one to do the work to keep the momentum. He knows that at this point for Steve, it's too overwhelming, too good, and Steve will start to involuntarily slow down, pull away, so Eddie has to chase him.
He honestly can't believe he gets to do this with Steve. Sex with him is like nothing he's ever experienced before.
Eddie’s never known any of his previous partners like he knows Steve. He knows Steve's likes, his dislikes and what really drives him wild. He knows that sometimes Steve sounds almost distressed when he’s anything but. Eddie knows how their bodies fit together, what angles work and which ones don't. It feels powerful, like a drug, in the best way.
Eddie keeps up the steady, unrelenting rhythm, his hands squeezing Steve’s hips hard, using the contact for leverage, until Steve comes and Eddie quickly follows.
The windows are fogged up like crazy, but Steve is laying on him with what seems like no intent to get up any time soon.
When they get wiped down, dressed, and back in the front seats, Eddie marks off the last item, "Mission accomplished. Thanks for the scavenger hunt, Harrington."
"Yes, that was always my intention," Steve says dryly, but reaches over and squeezes Eddie's hand.
Steve
They find a cheap motel room in Defiance and crash for the night. Their last night on the road. They’ve put it off as long as they can. Steve is tucked against Eddie's side, head on his shoulder.
"I'm so glad we did this," Steve says, running his hand over Eddie's chest.
"Me too, sweetheart," Eddie answers.
"I seem to recall someone being very sarcastic about not wanting to go with me."
"I was wrong, this is the most fun I've ever had in my life."
"Are we," Steve starts before taking a long pause, "will we still be together after we get home? Or was this, like, a vacation fling?"
They’ve kind of talked like they would be, but Steve needs actual confirmation. He can't stand the limbo, the insecurity. He's been told he was loved before and had it not be true. It feels true from Eddie, the love seems to roll off him in waves.
"We can be together as long as you'll have me," Eddie answers, "just, I know how it is, at home. For guys like me. If word gets out. I'm not excited for you to experience that."
"I don't give a fuck what people in Hawkins think, Eddie. I just don't."
"I know you don’t, and that’s what scares me. So, maybe it'd be easier-"
"I don't want easier, I want you."
"I want you, too, Steve. God help me. I love you so much. But you could find a nice girl, start having all those kids you want. Have public displays of affection, without anyone batting an eye. This, us, could just be a youthful indiscretion. You have a choice, okay? You like girls, too. I wouldn't hold it against you for choosing an easier life."
"Shut the fuck up, no," Steve says, adament, angry. He digs his fingers into Eddie’s side, as if he can just hang on tight enough to make this insanity stop. Eddie is making him mad for the first time in a long time, he realizes.
"You can't take it back, if word gets out, even just rumors, you can't ever unring that bell. You'll be branded queer."
"I don't care! Don't you understand that? I don't fucking care."
“Steve-”
"No! Stop it. I might like girls, but I love you, so. No. Absolutely not," he says, burying his face in Eddie’s neck, smelling him. It helps calm his building anxiety that Eddie is about to break up with him for his own good, or some other fucking bullshit. “I’m in love with you, Eddie, don’t do this. Please, don’t try to do this because you think it's what would be better for me. Nothing is better for me than you. Please.” He’s not above begging.
Eddie sighs, rubs his forehead, like Steve’s giving him a headache. Then finally says, "Okay, okay. You win. Let the record show that I tried to be noble here, and fall on my own sword."
“I told you before to not be a hero, you didn't listen and it didn't go so great, did it? So you think you could maybe just listen to me this time?”
Eddie laughs, and it makes Steve relax, just a little.
“I can do that, sweetheart."
Steve smiles against his neck, hopes Eddie can feel it.
"Good. You don't get to break up with me unless you actually don't want to be with me anymore, okay? You don't get to choose for me and I don't get to choose for you. So, do you want to be with me?"
"You know I do."
"Okay, that's settled then. You let me know if anything changes."
"I'll be sure to do that," Eddie laughs, then adds, more seriously, "I wasn't trying to upset you, I just wanted you to fully understand what you're signing up for. I couldn't stand it if you got hurt just because you love me."
"Worth the risk," Steve assures, "but I'll be careful. I won't out you."
"I don't think you can damage my reputation any more than it already is. I'm worried about you."
"I'll worry about me," Steve says, "and we still have to go to Alaska and Hawaii together," Steve says, pulling back to look at him again, "can't be splitting up before that happens."
Eddie laughs, "Deal."
“And I owe you a trip to D.C., since I was being a jerk when we were there and you didn’t get to see anything.” He really regrets that Eddie didn’t get to see much of anything, all because he was worried about Steve being a baby. He’s ashamed of himself.
“I’ll go anywhere, as long as you’re there,” Eddie says.
"I don't even want to go back to living in Hawkins," Steve admits, “not after seeing what else is out there, you know? Like what the fuck is waiting for us at home? Bullshit."
Eddie thinks for a minute, "We could, like, relocate? We've seen almost the entire country. We could maybe make an informed decision and just move somewhere, anywhere."
Steve doesn't say anything.
"Or not, it was just an idea." Eddie looks like feels stupid for suggesting they permanently run away together. As if three months on the road wasn't enough. Steve definitely doesn’t think it’s stupid. And three months weren’t enough, not nearly.
"No, no, it's a good idea," Steve says, "I like it. I really like it. I was just thinking of the possibilities."
He has to talk to Hopper, to consider his job offer, but the idea of staying in Hawkins turns his stomach now.
And he doesn't know if he can leave the kids and just run away. If they'll hate him for abandoning them and stealing Eddie away. Honestly, they might be maddest about that, come to think of it. He's pretty sure they've kind of outgrown needing him, he was just the babysitter. But Eddie? The kids definitely won't want to see him go.
But if they wanted to, they could do this together, really do this. They could build a whole fucking life together, far away from the judgmental eyes of Hawkins. That's a terrifying and exhilarating thought, in equal measure.
"You already promised to run away with me in Vegas," Steve finally says, "so I'm holding you to it."
Eddie laughs and rolls towards him. He kisses him, then he cups his cheek, and looks him right in the eye, meaning it when he says it this time, "Okay, Harrington, I'll run away with you."
Notes:
Take the Money and Run - Spotify Playlist - Ask and you shall receive! I was always going to include a playlist at the end of all the songs the chapters are built around, but here is one now, up to date to the current chapter! I’ll update it as we finish up. I do recommend playing them in order, that's how I've listened to them a lot while writing this.
How loud was the old Madhouse on Madison? Loud.
Additional info on Chicago Stadium from that period in time. It was torn down when they built the United Center, just up the block.
If you want a mindfuck, Michael Jordan was born in 1963. That makes him roughly 3 years older than Steve. Jordan was 23 (age and number, lol) in 1986. Scottie Pippen and Horace Grant wouldn't even join the team until the following year, so while they had Jordan, they still had a losing record in 1986. That's probably how Eddie got tickets, haha.
Eddie will be learning Sirius by the Alan Parsons Project, since it has been the Bulls theme since 1984. It still gives me chills, and I haven’t really watched a Bulls games since the late 90s.
When I realized the route from Chicago to Munson would take them right through Elkhart, it had to be mentioned. If you’ve read my Jagged Little Pill fic series, you know why. In any universe, these boys. <3
Did anyone catch that there's a Kunkle right in the map near Munson? I thought that was a hilarious unintentional shout out to Spree.
Photo credits: Bulls ticket from eBay. Chicago Stadium from Wikipedia. Joseph from a behind the scenes picture from S4. Breakfast from Ben West Palm. Joe and the Corvette from Pinterest.
Chapter 19: The Boys Are Back in Town
Notes:
Thanks so much for all the feedback! You've all been so awesome! <3 <3
Like Steve and Eddie's road trip, I'm going to try and wrap this up by Christmas. But the epilogue is getting to be VERY long, haha, so we'll see how that goes. End of the year? ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
guess who just got back today?
them wild-eyed boys that had been away
The Boys Are Back in Town, Thin Lizzy
Steve
They put over 15,000 miles on the car. There’s trash in the backseat, a chocolate stain on the passenger floor mat and dust all over. He needs a new set of tires and an oil change. The passenger window still leaks, just a little, even after being replaced. He can see a shiny smear of a handprint on the backseat that must be lube from last night. It looks like they've lived in his car for the past three months, which is kinda true. Steve doesn't give a shit that it's lived in now, every single blemish, every single mile, was well worth it.
Steve grasps the atlas, a little worse for wear. He flips it open and takes in some of the notes they've both left on the pages. This is really something he'll keep forever. It's the roadmap they followed to fall in love.
Eddie is sitting in the passenger seat, leaning over to look at the map as they sit in the driveway of Eddie and Wayne's new house. There's a big shade tree in the front yard, it looks a little barren right now in winter, but come spring it should be pretty. Steve wonders if Eddie picked this house because of the tree, or if it is just a nice coincidence.
"Start thinking about where we're going next," Steve says, running his finger over the route they'd taken, "where you liked best, where you want us to live."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah," Steve answers, glancing around Eddie's new neighborhood, "can I kiss you?"
Eddie nods and meets him in the middle, as he leans over and brushes a quick kiss against Eddie's lips. Hopes Eddie's new neighbors aren't looky loos.
Eddie starts towards the house, then says, “Oh, wait!” and runs back to the car, coming up with the Master of Puppets mirror from Atlantic City. It had made it home in one piece. That seems like good luck, Steve thinks.
He helps Eddie carry his stuff up to the door of the ranch style house. Eddie pauses like he's thinking about knocking. Wayne opens the door before Eddie has to make a decision one way or the other.
"Welcome home, boys," Wayne says, taking one of the bags from Steve's hand. "Was beginning to think I'd never see either of you again."
Eddie's hands are full, but he gives Wayne the best hug he can manage.
They go in and see the new house. All of Eddie's boxes are stacked a little haphazardly in one of the bedrooms. He’s sure that was the kids’ doing.
"Look, you're already packed and ready to go," Steve says, running his hand over one of the cardboard boxes.
Eddie smiles.
They say goodbye in Eddie’s new room, Steve kissing him again and again. Eddie has tangled his fingers with Steve's, holding on tight.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Steve asks.
Eddie nods.
"Goodnight, honey," Steve says.
Eddie blushes, but he smiles, "Night, sweetheart. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Eddie walks him to the door, and waves when Steve turns back to look at him. Steve gives him a little wiggle of his fingers in return and it makes Eddie laugh.
Steve gets in the car, backs out of the drive and finds it weird and unsettling to drive away without Eddie at his side.
Steve goes home, and the house is quiet. It doesn’t look like his parents have been home recently, and he wonders if they even realized he’s been gone for three months. He carefully hangs up his battle jacket on the hall tree near the door, unpacks his bags, and starts a load of laundry.
He puts the roll of undeveloped private film in his underwear drawer. He'll figure something out.
He has the stack of pictures that they decided were too private to share with anyone else. Steve sits on his bed and flips through them. Eddie in the rainbow swim trunks. Steve shirtless in a motel room he doesn't even remember, with a huge hickey prominently visible on his chest. Eddie smoking the joint in Weed. And inexplicably, one of Steve in the car. He's just sitting there looking at Eddie, so he's not sure why that needed to be hidden. But Eddie had been the one to edit the photo album, so he assumes he must have had a reason. Maybe Eddie just didn’t want people to see Steve’s mustache up close and make fun of him.
Steve buries them in his closet, tucked away safely in a shoe box.
He takes a shower and it is nice to be back in his own bathroom, using his own Faberge Organics. He needs to check the hall closet and see how much of it he's got left.
It’s Christmas Eve, he knows nothing is open, so he digs around in the freezer, finding a frozen dinner. Hey, at least it’s turkey. And not even freezer-burnt.
He’s just peeling the cover off, trying not to burn his fingers, when he hears knocking at the front door. He swings it open and there’s Eddie, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket.
“Are you alone? I got worried you were home alone,” Eddie asks, sort of peering around Steve’s shoulder, as if he’s checking.
“I’m alone,” Steve answers.
“C’mon, then,” Eddie says, reaching over and tugging on Steve’s hand.
“Well, let me throw that TV dinner away and get my coat and shoes on at least,” Steve laughs, pulling Eddie in the other direction, into the house. "Shit, I started a load of laundry," Steve adds, pulling his shoes on.
"Bring it, we have a dryer," Eddie says.
Eddie follows him into the laundry room, and the dial is on the spin cycle. The drum is vibrating the whole machine.
Steve surprises Eddie and picks him up, sitting him on the lid, chasing his lips.
"Is this a classic Harrington move?" Eddie asks, teasing, "That felt rehearsed."
"Maybe," Steve answers, crowding as close as he can. "Is it working?"
Eddie laughs, tilting his head back in amusement.
"Everything you do works for me," Eddie says and Steve kisses him until the buzzer sounds, startling them both.
"Next time I'm here, I want to be treated to the full Steve Harrington romance package."
Steve laughs, "What the hell is the full Steve Harrington romance package, exactly?"
"I don't know? You tell me. Woo me into your bed in that plaid monstrosity of a room of yours."
Steve laughs, Eddie clearly thinks Steve has more game than he actually does.
"I think you'll be disappointed, I'm not that smooth."
"I could never be disappointed," Eddie, assures, "but I would like to be entertained."
Steve sits at the Munson dining room table with Eddie and his uncle. He listens to them catch up with each other, and can see how much they've missed each other. Even through the gruff. He probably shouldn't be intruding, but Eddie came and got him, not the other way around.
After dinner, Eddie helps him fold his dry laundry and puts it away in his own empty dresser.
Then they sit at the table and Eddie shows Wayne their photo album full of memories.
"Oh, look at this!" Eddie exclaims, excited, yanking his shirt over his head, showing Wayne his new tattoo.
"That's a big tattoo," Wayne says, but he smiles. "This that tree?" he asks, pointing at the picture.
"It is! It was so huge, just massive. I can't even describe how big. Tell him how big it was, Steve!"
"If you can't describe it, why do you think I can?" Steve laughs. "I can tell him about the climb up from the base, if you want me to? I remember that in vivid detail."
"Shut it," Eddie says, trying to hide his smile, but he looks at Uncle Wayne. "Air was a little thin. Made it kind of hard to climb back up to the parking lot."
"Probably your childhood asthma," Wayne offers.
"I don't have asthma," Eddie laughs, like Wayne is a crazy, old man.
"Not now, maybe. But little you sure did. Always coughing and carrying on."
"I don't remember any of that," Eddie says, but points at Steve, "See! I have asthma, and you made fun of me!"
"I made fun of you? I don't think we remember that day the same way," Steve answers.
Eddie points at the picture of him doubled over, "Proof."
Steve just laughs, "Okay, I'm sorry I made fun of you because you had childhood asthma that even you didn't know about."
"That doesn't feel like a sincere apology, Harrington," Eddie says and Steve just laughs.
"Boys," Wayne says, but is watching them volley back and forth with a smile.
They'd gotten the atlas out of the car and started flipping through it, making a list for where they might want to live.
Seattle? Too cloudy. Eddie would lose his mind with no sun most of the year.
New York City? Probably too expensive. And Eddie wants a house, not an apartment. Not a trailer, not a condo. He wants a house, with a yard. So that probably knocks out several major cities.
San Francisco is a definite option, for sure, but Steve doesn't know how they'd swing the cost of a house there.
They start seriously looking at the east coast. Maybe Maine?
"What about near the big trees?" Steve asks, with the atlas open to California.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, eyes bright and hopeful.
Steve smiles, and okay, near the big trees is the frontrunner. He writes it down. He'll see if he can find them a real estate agent to start looking, see if there is anything available.
He'll call his dad's financial planner again, see if he can find out what they'll actually be able to realistically afford.
They go back and forth, writing on the list and Steve laughs when Eddie follows up Steve’s little sketched heart with one with devil horns and a tail. He loves him.
They put the list away, and Steve curls up with Eddie. Since they couldn’t find Eddie’s new sheets, they sleep on Eddie's bare, but brand new, mattress on the floor of his new room. Surrounded by cardboard boxes. It's a mess. It's also maybe the best Christmas Eve Steve's ever had in his whole life.
Christmas morning is a low key affair in the Munson household, but there's coffee and a big breakfast.
"You boys aren't sick of each other yet?" Wayne asks gruffly, but his eyes are smiling, teasing them.
Eddie jumps on Steve's back, nearly knocking him to the ground, "I wore him down. Harrington wouldn't know what to do without me, now."
Steve laughs, because he's supposed to, but damn if that isn't a true statement.
Christmas day turns out to be cold in Hawkins, winter has hit hard. It's like it waited just long enough for them to get home and then let loose with the snow.
They kick off their shoes and spend the afternoon setting up Eddie's new room. They put together the new bed frame. Eddie hadn't had one in the trailer, but he chose this basic black one when he picked out his new mattress. They find his sheets, and wash them first so they won’t be so scratchy.
Robin shows up at Wayne's door and Steve hugs her tight until she has literal complaints.
"Too tight!" she says, banging on his back.
She sits on Eddie's bed, but only after she'd been reassured that it was brand new. Steve doesn't know what she's on about, they all saw her sit on Eddie's filthy, old bed in the trailer, with sheets that surely did not get washed often enough.
I guess now that she actually knows what could be going on in his bed, she’s suddenly squeamish.
“Don’t worry, Harrington hasn’t been naked on there,” Eddie says, “at least not yet.”
And Eddie giggles when Robin recoils in horror.
“Here,” Eddie says, tossing the clean sheets at Robin, “help Harrington make the bed. We’re going to need it later.”
Robin gags and Eddie laughs as he saunters out of the room.
When they're alone, Steve hugs Robin again.
"I'm so happy to see you," he tells her, then whispers in her ear, "thank you."
"What did I do?"
"You gave me an attitude adjustment, at the right moment. I think I could have just hauled ass home, dropped him off and then it'd be a funny story years from now, like, hey remember when I took that weird Eddie guy on a road trip and we nearly killed each other?"
"And now?"
"I don't know. I think, I think…I think," he says, stumbling over his thoughts, his words, "I think he's it, Rob. I'm scared."
"Why are you scared of that?"
"I'm not scared of that, I'm scared of what happens if he isn't."
"Oh," she says, soft and quiet, "you really love him," she says, hugging Steve tight.
Steve nods, "So much."
“Why is he still calling you Harrington?” Robin asks, “Isn’t that a little weird for boyfriends?”
Steve smiles, Eddie is his boyfriend. And it’s not weird to him to be called Harrington by Eddie. He likes it. It always feels like a term of endearment for some reason, it’s not soft like Eddie calling him sweetheart, but it feels just as loving, somehow. He can’t explain it.
“I don’t know, I like it,” Steve says with a shrug. He doesn’t call Eddie by his last name all that often, it just doesn’t roll off his tongue as naturally. But he never wants Eddie to stop calling him Harrington. He fell in love with that sound, with Eddie teasing him. He calls him Steve when it matters, he thinks.
"Are you going to Hopper's tonight? For dinner?" Robin asks.
"I didn't know about it," Steve answers, "so probably not."
"I'm trying to get my mother to let me go, but she's trying to guilt trip me into staying home and for what? To watch dad sleep in his recliner? Pass. It was hard enough to get out to come see you. And I'm sure you're invited, everybody is."
Steve nods, but he's not spending Christmas without Eddie, and he's not sure Hopper is all that interested in Eddie Munson hanging around his house. Hopper said he knew Eddie wasn't a bad kid, but that doesn't mean he likes him.
The few times they all hung out at the cabin over the summer, Hopper seemed gruff about Eddie being there. He never said anything, not outright, but Steve could tell Hopper wasn't thrilled Eddie was so close to the kids.
He hopes it's just because Hopper suspected he was dealing drugs, because that's at least fair to be concerned about. Not that Eddie would ever deal to the kids, he knows Steve would be first in line to tear into his ass.
"I'm going to stay here, with Eddie," Steve finally says.
"C'mon! You two need to come see the rest of us, it's been months."
"We'll see," Steve says, trying to get her to let it go.
"Tell me about your trip, tell me anything!" she says, changing the topic.
"I do have news," he says, and he thinks he should probably wait until after Christmas Day, but he's too excited.
"Well? Spill it!"
"We're thinking about moving from Hawkins, together."
"Really?! Where are you going to go?"
Steve shrugs, "Don't know yet. Anywhere else," he laughs.
"Can I come?" she asks, teasing.
"You better, just as soon as you graduate," he answers, and he truly means that. He wants that more than he can even tell her.
"Well, pick somewhere good then! I'm not moving to another backwater hellhole. Not even for you," she says and he tackles her to the bed, making them both giggle.
"I knew you'd never be able to keep your hands off girls for very long," Eddie teases, walking back into his room and over to the edge of the bed.
Steve hooks his foot around the back of Eddie's knee and yanks him on top of them.
"Ew, no, get me away from this!" Robin yells, but makes no effort to actually move.
Steve is happy, these are his people. His family.
Dustin calls later, demanding that Steve come to Hopper's. He's going to kill Robin. Steve tries to push him off, saying they'll see him tomorrow. Promise.
The kids are all together, he can hear them fussing and arguing in the background.
Ten minutes after he hangs up from Dustin, the phone is ringing again and Wayne yells in their direction, "Steve, it's for you! Again," and Steve apologizes.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry they're being annoying," he says, taking the receiver off the counter, "I'll tell them to stop being little brats."
"I'm a little brat now, Harrington?" It's Hopper. He's going to kill Dustin now, too. His hit list is getting awfully long for only being home a day.
"Sorry, I thought you were the kids calling. Again."
"We're having dinner at six. Joyce is expecting you."
"Oh. Well, thank you."
He hears a commotion, and El is saying something, adamantly. Hopper is clearly listening to her before he speaks again, "I'm being told you are to bring the Munson kid. See you both at six," and he hangs up before Steve can even answer.
It's as close to an invitation as he could have expected.
"I guess we're going to Hopper's cabin for dinner. Didn't seem optional," Steve laughs.
Eddie nods, and doesn't seem phased by the last minute change of plans.
Steve grabs his coat off the rack. He loves it more than any other piece of clothing he's ever owned. Eddie made it for him, just out of silly affection, and Steve doesn't think he's ever had anyone love him enough to make him anything before.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, pulls it tight around his waist. Eddie is standing by the car, smoking a cigarette.
Steve is nervous that he's going to disappoint Hopper when he says no about the job.
Dustin is on the porch when they get there, "What the hell were you two doing for three months? Three. Months."
They answer over top of each other.
Steve: "None of your business, dipshit"
Eddie: "Sex and drugs and rock and roll."
But Steve wraps Dustin up in a big hug.
"Did you get our pictures?" Eddie asks, getting his own hug.
"Yes," Dustin says, trying to be nonchalant about it, “but neither one of you are ever leaving me again.”
They exchange a look behind Dustin’s back. They both already realized this was going to be an issue.
Everyone crowds around to look at the photo album. Steve feels a little exposed, letting them see this thing that was solely his and Eddie's.
There's a snap of Eddie in the cabin, on the floor, surrounded by all the sex records. Posed with a little hand flourish, like he's presenting them on The Price is Right. It makes Steve smile.
Then he notices half of a torn open condom wrapper at the edge of the frame and wants to die. Nobody else seems to notice, he's never noticed it before either, so he is relieved when they flip the page, and it goes without mention.
There's a picture of them together, at the base of the General Sherman tree. It's the photo reference for the tattoo on Eddie's back.
“You let Eddie drive your car?” Dustin asks, in disbelief, looking at the picture of Eddie driving through the fallen tree.
“We spent three months in the car, you think I drove all those miles by myself, you little shit?”
“Uh, yeah. I know you, you’re a control freak about that car. You’d never let me drive your car and you’ve known me way longer!”
Steve laughs, Henderson isn’t wrong, “Maybe I just trust Eddie more than I trust you, you ever think of that?” Steve is goading him, and it’s fun to see Dustin get all worked up about it.
“I thought he was Eddie “The Freak” Munson and now he’s got car driving privileges? This is a bunch of bullshit,” Dustin whines.
Steve looks over and catches Eddie’s eye, hoping the freak comment didn’t land. It did, but not in a bad way. Eddie gives him devil horns and a tongue waggle that turns into a wicked grin.
Steve smirks back in a way like he's saying, Don’t let your tongue be writing checks your ass can’t cash.
Eddie tosses his head back and laughs, so he’s gotten at least the gist of it. It makes Steve smile. They can communicate a lot with just a look these days. It’s wild that he knows Eddie “The Freak” Munson well enough to have unspoken shorthand with him.
It's been weird to see Eddie on tonight, he'd kind of forgotten what that looks like. He's frenetic, and loud. He's bouncing around the room, from kid to kid, arms waving around in the air. He looks like he's scurrying, like a squirrel. It's a little exhausting to watch.
Mainly, Steve thinks he looks uncomfortable, or maybe just nervous, and Steve wants nothing more than to grab his hand and settle him. He can't do that here, he knows that, but when he has the chance, he sits next to him on the floor in front of the couch and presses his thigh into Eddie's.
After dinner, Steve sits with Hopper on the porch, just the two of them.
"I think I'm leaving Hawkins," Steve says, "if I were staying-"
"Run far, kid," Hopper interrupts, "and don't look back."
Steve nods. He'll always look back, the people in the cabin behind him, the ones he can hear chattering and laughing, are his family.
"How was your road trip?" Hopper asks, lighting a cigarette.
"Really good. We only got arrested once," Steve says, turning to look at Hopper, smiling.
"Only once? Amateurs."
Steve laughs, then frowns a little, "I'm kind of scared to leave here, to leave home."
"The Munson kid is going with you, right?"
"Eddie. Yeah, we're doing this together."
Steve knows Hopper doesn't know Eddie very well, and in all honesty, he doesn't know Steve very well either.
"You can always come home. If it doesn't work out," Hopper says, and Steve feels his face get a little hot. He thinks maybe Hopper knows. Eddie's going to kill him if he can't even manage to keep it a secret for a day.
Steve turns, glances at Hopper, just briefly. He looks normal sitting there, "I think it's going to work out," Steve says, and he thinks he really believes that, "that kind of scares me, too."
Hopper is quiet for a bit, then blows out a puff of smoke, "The good things are always a little scary at first."
Steve nods, hopes that's true.
"Eddie got us tickets to the Bulls game the other night, against the Jazz, it was crazy," Steve says, "did you watch it?"
"Yeah, they just couldn't pull it off," Hopper says, "if they could have gotten that last shot into Jordan's hands, maybe. They're playing the Knicks right now, maybe we can sneak in and catch some of it, still."
Steve nods, he'd like that. He knows he should be loyal to the Pacers, but he's always been more of a Celtics guy, honestly. He dreamed of being Larry Bird when he was a kid. Nevermind that Bird is about a foot taller than Steve, easy. Bird might be billed at six-nine, but he's a dirty liar that just didn't want to get stuck playing in the paint.
But Jordan is really something to watch. Chicago is still close, he thinks that should count for something.
"I didn't take Munson for a basketball fan," Hopper says, dryly.
It makes Steve laugh, "Oh, he's definitely not."
As if he knew they were talking about him, Eddie pokes his head out of the door, asking silently for permission to come out, Steve nods.
Eddie lights his own cigarette, leans against the railing.
"I hear you're absconding with Harrington here, my best prospective hire," Hopper says, and Eddie looks nervous.
"Yes, sir, sorry about that."
Hopper laughs.
"When are you leaving?"
"Not too soon, we just got home. Don't even know where we're going yet," Steve says.
They all sit around the cabin in little groups. Dustin got a new board game, Castle Risk, for Christmas. Steve doesn't want to play the regular version of Risk, let alone one set solely in Europe. He doesn't need to highlight his idiocy. But Eddie is at the folding table they set up, playing it with the boys and Erica. He's hooting and laughing and Steve smiles at the sound. He's at ease now, in his element, Steve can tell just by hearing his voice, not even needing to lay eyes on him.
Steve is sitting with Robin and Nancy on the couch. Robin is curled into his side, his arm around her as she leans against him. Nancy's legs stretched across both of them. The younger girls are in El's room and he can hear the music from the stereo.
Jonathan and Argyle disappeared outside, clearly to go smoke and Steve is a little surprised Eddie didn't go with them.
It's nice to just all be together again, with nothing hellish to fight.
The game is heated and is apparently lasting longer than a game of Monopoly.
Steve stands up to stretch, he's really ready to go home and go to bed, when Nancy catches his eye.
"Can we talk?" Nancy asks, tucking her hair behind her ear, nodding towards the door.
"Yeah, sure," Steve says, getting up to follow her, he squeezes Eddie's shoulder on his way by, hopefully in a reassuring way. Digs his coat out from the pile by the door.
He stands in the yard and waits for her to say whatever she needs to say. It's too cold to be out here in the snow.
“What is this coat you’re wearing? It’s not really you,” she says, running her finger over the patch from Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park on his shoulder.
“Eddie made it for me,” he says, “as we went places. I love it.”
She nods.
"Well, I, uh, I think I made a mistake. In the spring. And, before that, too," and Steve feels like shit. He doesn't know if he should just cut her off or what. She's too late. Way, way too late. But he doesn't want to out Eddie, or he'd just tell her outright why the answer is, and will remain, no.
"Nance, it's okay. I'm not holding a grudge or anything. We're good."
"Maybe while I'm home we could see a movie or something?"
"I can't," and that's not true, he could, "I don't want to," he clarifies and he hopes that doesn't sound too mean.
"Oh, okay. Okay, then."
"I'm sorry," he tells her and she nods.
"Is this a real no or are you trying to make me grovel for the yes? I will, if I have to," she says, smiling at him.
"No games. I'm just not there anymore, Nance. I was, I really was, after spring break. It could have happened. And I'm not saying that to be mean. To rub salt in, or anything. And I want us to always be friends, I do. But. That ship has sailed for me."
"It's Eddie," she says, "I can see how you're looking at him. Everyone else might be blind to it, but I'm not."
Steve just looks at her. Refuses to confirm or deny.
"I think it's a bad idea, Steve."
"I'm sorry you feel that way," he answers. He knows she doesn't mean it. She's just embarrassed, or mad. Both. She gets a little mean when she's on the defensive, he knows that about her. He also knows she won't stay either of those things forever.
"But Eddie's-"
He cuts her off.
"Nance, please don't say anything you won't be able to take back," he really doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence and hold it against her forever. It might be as simple as but Eddie's a boy. That would be fair enough for her to question. But it might be worse than that, and if it is, he doesn't want to hear it.
"I'm sorry," she says, "I like Eddie. You know I do."
"I know, trust me. We're okay, I hope?"
"We will be," she says, and reaches up and hugs him around the neck.
He gives her an extra squeeze, then lets her go.
Before he can even get back in the cabin, Dustin corners Steve by himself on the steps.
"Game over?" Steve asks, but Dustin is on a mission, ignoring his question entirely.
“So, how long have you two been sneaking around? Before you left here, or?”
"Nance?"
Dustin rolls his eyes, "No, dumbass. Eddie."
Steve doesn’t even know how to lie to Dustin about this, so he doesn’t, “No, it happened on the road.”
He hopes Eddie won't be mad. He has really fucked this up so far.
Dustin stills, like maybe he thought it wasn’t true, and was just testing Steve. Fuck.
“Oh. Okay,” Dustin says, and it’s the most quiet Steve’s ever seen him. Steve gets a little nervous.
“I hope that doesn’t change things between us,” Steve finally says, lamely.
Dustin gives Steve a look like he's stupid and hugs him tight, “It doesn’t."
Steve hugs him back, relieved, “Don't say anything to anyone else. That's for Eddie to tell, if and when he's ready.”
"Okay," Dustin says, “it’s not like I didn’t suspect that. Well, about Eddie, anyway. You, not so much.”
Steve shrugs, “I’m full of surprises.”
“Sure you are, Steve,” Dustin answers, dry and sarcastic.
Steve stands there, quiet for a minute, then blurts out, “We are thinking about moving away together.”
Shit. He meant to wait, to wait for Eddie, to ease Dustin into the idea, together.
“No way,” Dustin says, kneejerk fast, “I won’t allow it.”
Steve laughs, “You won’t allow it?”
“You’re not running away to hoard Eddie all to yourself, that’s not cool, dude.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I knew this would be more about Eddie leaving than me leaving.”
“Well, duh,” Dustin says, but then hugs him again, tight, “Don't be stupid. I don’t want to lose you either. Please don’t go. I missed you guys.”
Steve feels bad, but he can’t make any promises, “We missed you, too.”
And then he decides to just be honest, Dustin's old enough for that now, “I think I’ll lose him if we stay here, Dustin. I don’t think this town will let him be happy. Let us be happy together.”
“So your solution is to run away? Really? You and Eddie are going to, what, live happily ever after?”
“Well, ideally, yeah,” Steve answers.
“Oh. Shit. No way,” he says, and then a smile spreads across his face, wide, “you two are in love, aren’t you?”
“I thought we established that already?” Steve asks, scrunching up his forehead, more than a little confused. But he eventually smiles back.
“We did no such thing! I thought you were just having sex with him. You’ll stick your dick in anyone that will let you, it’s like, your defining trait.”
“Hey!” Steve thinks he's offended by that, but Dustin barrels on.
“I saw that condom wrapper in the picture, don’t think I didn’t!”
Steve laughs, blushes a little, but he can blame it on the cold wind hitting his face, “You’re a little shithead, Henderson.”
“At least you’re being safe, we all know where you’ve been and been and been.”
Steve thinks he's teasing, but it feels a little bit mean. He's taking his anger out on Steve. Nothing new there.
“Yes, I’m a manwhore, as you’ve established, I guess. I’m sorry I’ve dragged your precious Eddie down into the muck with me.”
"As you should be, he's too good for you," Dustin says, smirking.
Steve smiles, "Don't I know it," then he adds, seriously, "I want this to work out, Dustin. I think it's really something, what we've got together."
"Well, no shit. I made this happen, after all. I knew you’d like him if you got to know him. I told you so, asshole. I told you that you needed someone awesome.”
"Yeah, yeah, I seem to recall that being about Robin."
"It translates. Eddie is awesome, too."
"Well, you're not wrong there," Steve says, smiling.
"Gross. You're all in love," Dustin says, but he's clearly amused.
"I really am," Steve says, "but tell me about your fall. How was your homecoming date?"
"Ugh. Let's don't and say we did. It was not anything great. She's no Susie."
"Then be with Susie," Steve says, "you're both perfectly nerdy for each other."
"She's just so far away. And Mormon. I can't be a Mormon."
Steve nods, he knows you can love someone and it still doesn't fit just right. It's shitty, but it's life.
"I'm sorry, Henderson."
Dustin just shrugs, "Eddie won the game, by the way. So expect him to be all annoying and gloaty."
"Thanks for the warning," Steve answers, holding the door open for Dustin.
He looks around and Eddie is nowhere to be found.
Will sees him looking around, scanning the room, "He went out back to smoke."
Steve nods, "Thanks."
Eddie
Eddie is out back, behind the cabin, smoking next to a tree in the dark. He's trying not to get worked up for no reason. He knows Steve, and he trusts him. But he hadn't expected Nancy to immediately make a move.
He doesn't blame her, but, shit. They've only been home a day. He thought they'd have more time to test out how this will work between them now that they are back home. Eddie hears someone approaching, snow crunching under boots.
Speak of the devil and the devil appears.
Nancy comes around the corner of the house and he knows she doesn't see him, and he's about to announce himself when he realizes she's crying.
Fuck.
He waits a couple seconds, then says, "You okay?"
She startles, just a bit, and looks at him with those big, sad eyes, "Not really."
"I'm sorry, for what it's worth."
"Are you, though?" she asks, and it's a little mean.
"Am I sorry you're upset? Of course."
"He picked you."
Well, no shit, Eddie thinks. But that's mean and he feels guilty.
Eddie is insecure and has abandonment issues, but he isn't confused about how Steve feels. Steve's been very open about his love and Eddie has had no reason to doubt him.
"I don't know what to say here," he admits.
"I never thought he'd say no," she says and Eddie feels bad, just a little. But not too bad. She'd had her chance, a ton of them, really, and she just kept pushing Steve away.
He can't understand it, because now that he loves Steve, and Steve loves him, he never wants to let him go.
"Well. I can't just, like, give him back," Eddie finally says.
Nancy laughs, teases him, "But would you sell him?"
Eddie grins, sidling up next to her, bumping her shoulder, "How much cash are we talking about?"
She smiles at him, "I'm sorry I overstepped. I didn't know you were actually a thing. I thought he just had developed a little man crush on you or something."
Eddie nods, "It's okay, Wheeler."
"I thought I still had time to fix it."
Eddie nods, not sure what to say to that. He knows it's a shitty thing when you realize things can never be as they were.
"Do you want me to stay away from him?" she asks.
"No, definitely not," Eddie says immediately, taking her by the shoulders, trying not to burn her or light her hair on fire with his cigarette. Nobody would ever believe it was an accident if he did, "We're all family. You don't go through that kind of hell and end up anything less."
Eddie knows she helped keep him from bleeding out in the Upside Down. He has a ghost of a memory of the pain of her little hands just pressing into the worst of the bites on his side as Steve carried him over his shoulder. Her on one side, Robin on the other. Dustin crying. He isn't sure it happened, it's so fuzzy, but he believes it to be true. So he will never feel ill will, he can't. She helped keep him alive.
And he can't keep Steve against his will. Shit, he wouldn't want to. If Steve decides he wants to go back to Nancy tomorrow, or a year from now, Eddie knows keeping a tight leash on him won't do a damn thing to prevent that. He wants Steve to be where Steve wants to be, and right now, he's lucky enough that it's with him.
Eddie's surprised when she reaches out and hugs him tight, arms snaking under his leather jacket. They've never done that before, but he hugs her back, dropping his cigarette into the snow.
She's warm against him, and it feels nice to be hugged by a friend. He's never really had friends like that before.
"Love him," she whispers.
"I do," he answers.
She puts her head on his chest, "Am I really the only straight one in our foursome?"
He laughs, and hugs her tighter, "Looks like. My condolences."
She laughs and he smiles. He thinks she'll be okay.
They hear the back door snap shut and Steve is standing there, hands on his hips. He's not mad, Eddie is pretty sure, it's just a habit to stand like that, at this point.
Nancy giggles, "That's your problem, not mine."
"Thanks," he says dryly, but lets her go.
"You okay?" he asks her.
"Yes, go on, he's waiting for you."
He nods and picks up his soggy cigarette from the ground, heading towards Steve. Steve smiles and Eddie feels a rush of love for him.
"You finally ready to go, Harrington? I've been waiting on you for hours," Eddie teases, laughing loudly when Steve makes an affronted noise at the blatant lie.
Steve holds open the back door and Eddie slides under his arm to go back inside.
Eddie turns back to see Steve hold up his hand in a little wave to Nancy, and Nancy waves back.
Steve
Eddie climbs into the car beside him, and the kids are standing on the porch of the cabin, waving.
Steve waves back, then puts the car in reverse, getting turned around to leave. Once they're headed in the right direction, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand, brings it up to his mouth, kisses it.
"Nancy and six kids in a Winnebago, Harrington, think about it. It's your dream, man," Eddie says, making the offer, again.
"I have a new dream these days. One freak in a BMW," Steve says with a smile, sure of his decision. He's never been this sure about anything.
Eddie laughs and it is the best sound.
"And you're gonna hurt my feelings if you keep trying to ditch me for my best interests or whatever. Stop it."
"I'm not trying to ditch you," Eddie says, soft, "you know I love you. I just don't want you to feel obligated to stay with me."
Steve stops the car in the middle of the lane leading up to the cabin. He reaches over and touches Eddie's cheek.
"I'm not obligated. I love you, Eddie. I really do," Steve says and Eddie smiles at him brightly.
Steve leans over and gives him a peck of a kiss before he starts driving again.
"She made me sad, man. Giving me those big, pitiful cow eyes," Eddie says, once they are moving again.
Steve smiles, apparently big, expressive eyes are his type, because Eddie’s crazy if he doesn’t realize he uses his in the exact same way. Robin called them doe eyes, and he’s never been able to unsee it.
"I'm sorry if she made it uncomfortable. I didn't confirm anything to her. I didn't want to out you. But I take it she knows? What was with the weird hug?"
"She needed a hug, I guess. I just happened to be nearby. And out me? What about you?"
Steve shrugs, "I am what I am. I love who I love. Dustin knows, though. He's a little dickhead."
"I knew he'd take one look at us and suss it out," Eddie says, "it's fine."
"I told him to keep his mouth shut."
"We can tell anyone you want to tell, Steve. Just, be careful. I need you to be careful."
"I will. We will."
Eddie smiles at him
"I'm excited to do this with you," Steve says in the darkness of the car, "I think we can start a real nice life together."
Eddie makes a soft noise, it sounds like agreement, "I think we already have," Eddie finally says, squeezing Steve's hand.
Steve smiles at that, knows it's true.
"Yeah we have," Steve agrees, "and I can't wait to see what comes next."
Eddie grins, wide and wolfish at the prospect, "Comes, you say?"
Steve rolls his eyes, but keeps his hold on Eddie's hand. He doesn't plan to let go anytime soon.
Steve pulls up in the driveway of the new house, putting it in park and leaning over to kiss Eddie goodnight.
Eddie cups Steve's cheek, and when they break apart, he says, "C'mon in. Stay. Uncle Wayne won't mind."
Steve doesn't need an engraved invitation, just nods and pulls the car into the driveway better so it won't be parked behind Wayne’s truck.
Eddie
The next morning Eddie hears three familiar soft raps on the bedroom door, before Uncle Wayne is poking his head in. If he's surprised to see Steve curled into Eddie's side, sound asleep, he doesn't give anything away by his reaction, "You boys want breakfast?" Wayne whispers.
Eddie nods, "I'll come help," he says, and eases away from the still sleeping Steve.
Eddie pulls on his sweatpants and an old t-shirt before going into the kitchen. He realizes he doesn't really know where anything is yet, but Uncle Wayne points him in the right direction.
Eddie beats the eggs in the bowl, adds the cinnamon, vanilla and milk for french toast, finally asking, "Is it okay that he stays? Nobody is home at his house." Nobody is ever home at his house.
Uncle Wayne just nods.
"I'm sure we can go there, if you want us out of your hair," Eddie doesn’t want to leave, not really, but he will if Steve’s not welcome. He's not sending Steve home alone to that big, empty house. He can’t. He won’t.
"I'm sure you got used to the quiet of having me gone," Eddie rambles. He's not sure why he's so nervous, it's just Uncle Wayne.
"No," Wayne says, in that soft, comforting drawl of his, "you boys just got home."
Eddie nods, swallows hard, "Thanks."
Eddie knows Uncle Wayne had gotten to know Steve a little over the summer, and seemed to like him okay, but Eddie has never brought a boy home like this. It's probably one thing to know, and another to actually see. But Wayne has always accepted everything about him this far, so Eddie didn’t have any reason to think this would be any different.
"I think we're going to move, not really soon or anything, but I think we're going to get out of this town."
Uncle Wayne nods, is quiet for a long while, "I think that'll be good for you both. You'll do great out there. Anywhere in mind?"
"No, not yet. Maybe California? But we saw a lot of places to consider," Eddie really doesn't have a front runner yet, there are big trees in a lot of places in California. He just knows he wants to go with Steve, wherever, whenever. It makes him smile, just thinking about the possibilities.
"You're glowing, kid. I'm happy you're finally happy."
"I am happy," Eddie says, then adds, "did you know you're supposed to wash your face with special soap?"
Uncle Wayne shakes his head, "Regular soap always worked for me. Lava if I'm really dirty."
Steve would die if he heard Uncle Wayne talking about using a bar of Lava soap on his face. Steve's probably never even seen a bar of it. This is a household that has an industrial sized vat of Gojo hand cleaner in the bathroom, not fancy department store face wash.
"And also moisturize? That might explain the glow. Steve made me do it."
Uncle Wayne laughs, "I like him. He's a little weird, but aren't we all?"
Eddie smiles. Then frowns a little. He hadn’t put it together until just now, retelling it to Uncle Wayne, that Steve probably clung to the face routine because it was one of the few things his mom was actually there to give him guidance about.
"Did you have fun? Tell me more about it."
Eddie does. He starts from the beginning. He knows he probably gets places jumbled up, gets the timeline a little wonky. He doesn’t tell Uncle Wayne he got them jumped in Arizona, he’ll tell him that later. When Steve isn’t around to hear.
By the time Steve rolls out of bed, hair wild, Eddie and Wayne are laughing about Eddie’s dental adventure in Mexico.
Wayne slides a plate full of french toast and bacon in Steve's direction and it makes Eddie smile.
The next morning, when they get up, there are a pair of keys on the kitchen counter, and a note in Wayne’s handwriting that just says: house keys for you boys.
Eddie picks up one and hands it to Steve.
“Why is he leaving me a key?” Steve asks, confused.
“So you can get in the house, you put it in the lock on the front door,” Eddie says, being a smartass.
Steve rolls his eyes, “Thanks, I didn’t know how keys work.”
“I think he’s just saying you’re welcome to come and go as you please.”
“That’s weird, right?”
“Not really," Eddie answers.
"He doesn't even know me. Not really. I could be a criminal. I could rob you blind."
Eddie looks him up and down, "Yes, you look very apt to loot the place."
"Shut up, you know what I mean. He doesn't know me well enough to trust me with a key to his house."
Eddie smiles, "He trusted you with me, for three months. I think his house is secondary to that. And he can see that I trust you. I think that's enough."
Steve nods, turning the key over in his hand.
"That's really nice of him."
Eddie smiles, "He's a big softie. His bark is far worse than his bite, trust me. I'm still alive, aren't I?"
Steve nods.
"Good. You hungry? Let's make breakfast, I'm starving."
Steve nods and just kind of stands there.
"You want to fry the bacon or the eggs?"
"I can make toast," Steve offers.
Eddie just looks at him, a little perplexed.
"This might be a good time to tell you I don't know how to cook," Steve says.
"Yes, you do. You made us macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. In the cabin. And you grilled steaks for us at that other cabin!"
"Are you sure? I think I went and bought them, and then stood there and talked to you while you did it."
Eddie plays back his memory, and holy shit, Steve's right. Eddie just took over, both times, not even realizing it.
"What have you been eating all this time, while your parents are gone?"
Steve shrugs, "TV dinners. Cereal. I'd order pizza. Claudia has had me over for dinner a lot these past couple years. Mrs. Wheeler fed me more than a few meals, even after Nancy. I had a few dinners at Robin's, but it was almost too much work to convince her mom we are just friends. I always got by."
Eddie feels sad for him. Things were almost always tight growing up with Wayne. But Wayne always kept him fed, one way or another. And made sure he taught him how to cook the basics. So Eddie might not be a great cook, he sure doesn't know how to make anything fancy, but Uncle Wayne definitely taught him enough to make him self-sufficient.
He has long worried that Steve has no adult that loves him with no strings attached, but he didn't realize until this very minute that he desperately, wholeheartedly wants Wayne to love Steve like that. He doesn't want Wayne to tolerate Steve, Eddie wants him to love him, to always be in his corner.
Eddie hopes this house key is a harbinger of a future where Wayne is Steve's home, too, no matter how far they may roam.
"I'll teach you everything I know," Eddie offers, grabbing two pans, "we can't live on TV dinners for the rest of our lives."
Steve smiles at him, big and bright.
"What? What's that face for?" Eddie asks, but can't help smiling back. Steve's smile is contagious.
Steve leans close, "You said the rest of our lives."
"You're hearing things," Eddie teases, kissing him, quickly. Then turns back to the stove, "Okay, non-stick is always the way to go with eggs. No metal utensils, though. But let's start the bacon first, in cast iron, since it takes longer to cook."
Steve stands next to him, watching, "Bacon pops as it fries, so don't get burned."
Eddie fries the slices, taking his off before Steve's, "You like yours more crispy than I do," he tells him.
He spoons some of the bacon grease into the egg pan, and heats it up.
He helps Steve crack a couple eggs into the pan, "Slow. Let the whites just start to cook before the yolk drops in the pan."
Eddie picks out a stray piece of eggshell.
"You like them over easy, so flip them quickly, confidently. Show them you're the boss," he teases.
Steve tries and breaks the yolks on both of them, "Goddammit, sorry," Steve says.
Eddie just beats them together, "No big deal, I like mine scrambled. We'll try again."
They do, and Steve does better the second go round.
Eddie pours them both coffee, putting milk and sugar in Steve's, and he writes heavy cream on the grocery list on the fridge, so they'll have some on hand for Steve's coffee in the future.
Eddie sees Wayne has put the postcard he sent him from New York City on the fridge, and it makes Eddie smile.
Steve made good on his promise and made toast.
Eddie climbs up on the bar stool at the counter next to Steve, "Here you go."
"Thanks, Eddie."
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
It really doesn't look bad, they did pretty well for themselves. Eddie salts and peppers his eggs, pushing the shakers towards Steve.
They eat their breakfast in comfortable silence, Eddie sneaking glances at Steve, watching him drag his toast through his runny yolks.
The rest of their lives.
Eddie turns back to his plate, smiles to himself at the idea, hiding his face behind his hair, happy.
Notes:
Take the Money and Run - Spotify Playlist has been updated to include this chapter!
My grandparents had a fridge with the same ice maker. Seeing that picture made me taste the ice that came from there, even though it's been like 25 years! Memories are wild.
Larry Bird and Magic Johnson both claimed to be 6'9". But Bird was always very clearly taller, lol.
Castle Risk was released in 1986. It didn't really take off like the original, lol.
Like Eddie, I'm a big sucker for Wayne loving Steve like he's his own. I need that to be true, please and thank you.
Photo credits: Master of Puppets mirror and Nike shoe box from eBay. Fridge from Reddit. Keys Pinterest.
Chapter 20: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
Notes:
Thanks so much to every single reader that has left a comment, a kudos or bookmarked this to read later. You've all been so encouraging. I can't believe we're so close to the end. It's been a ride for me. <3
And we've crossed over 100,000 words. That's twice the length I had assumed this would be when I started fleshing this idea out. Crazy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
let 'em say we're crazy,
i don't care about that,
put your hand in my hand,
baby, don't ever look back
Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now, Starship
3 Months Later
Steve
Steve hears someone ringing the bell several times out at the front counter, so he pops his head out from the back of the Fotomat backroom.
Eddie is leaning up against the Formica countertop, still ringing the bell, incessantly.
"Excuse me, hello? Does anybody actually work here? I have a roll of film to drop-off!"
Steve rolls his eyes. He took this job just to be able to develop that one roll of film from their sex cabin himself, but he stayed on, since the work really wasn't that bad and he just needed something temporary. He's enjoyed seeing the weird shit the people of this town take pictures of, but he's happy there's been nothing show up that's that kind of weird, thankfully. He'd much rather be subjected to unflattering pictures of naked people than Upside Down shit popping up again. He's technically not supposed to return explicit adult pictures, but as long as everyone appears to be a consenting adult, he never says a word. He obviously gets it.
He's developed a few more private rolls of film of their own they've taken since that first one. Steve's favorite is the one of him going down on Eddie. It doesn't matter that you can't actually see anything explicit, or even tell who Steve is for that matter. That picture of Eddie's ring-covered hand resting on Steve's head is enough to get Steve hard just thinking about it.
He definitely needs to stop thinking about it right now at work.
It looks like Eddie is bringing in the last roll to be developed. Steve couldn't find it this morning, and now he knows why. Little magpie.
"Uncle Wayne and Henderson are conspiring on a going away party," Eddie tells him, "they think it's a surprise, but they are not subtle people."
They were both relieved that Dustin seemed to fully come around to the idea of them leaving Hawkins together. He seemed to take all the credit for them falling in love, like he had intentionally played matchmaker. That definitely wasn’t the case, but if that got him on board, they were fine letting him believe whatever he wanted.
As extra bribery to keep him happy, they promised him he could come stay with them for a week during his summer break.
"Oh lord, I can't imagine a party planned by those two," Steve says, laughing at the mental image.
"It should be interesting, that's for sure."
If a party planned by those two is the most interesting thing to happen to them in Hawkins for the rest of their lives, Steve would be thrilled.
Steve had promised the kids that if shit hit the fan again, he'd be on the first flight home. Eddie made no such promise and Steve would never want him to. He'd prefer it if Eddie stayed far, far out of the fray.
Seven days. They have seven more days left in Hawkins before they set out on their next big adventure.
They bought a house together in the woods, it's surrounded by trees that Eddie loves. It's beautiful and serene and secluded. Best of all, it's theirs. They’d flown out to California to see it in person, together. Eddie had never flown before, but they hadn’t been stupid enough to buy property, sight unseen.
Finding a house was somehow easier and harder than he'd expected. They poured over options together, and then with Wayne. And then Hopper and Joyce. And eventually Hopper brought in Murray for some reason Steve's not totally sure about, and it ended with all the adults debating in Wayne's living room while Steve and Eddie sat at the dining room table, like little kids.
They appreciated the help, but it was a little much.
Eddie had pointed at their house and said, "It's this one."
Steve had agreed.
The house needs some work, they couldn't afford anything that didn't, honestly, but it was everything they’d hoped for, and more. Steve can see the potential. Their realtor hadn’t let them down. She’d found something perfect in the area they wanted, and within the budget they were prepared to spend.
Steve cannot wait to see what comes next.
A real customer comes in, so Eddie waves goodbye and saunters out the door, the bell ringing as he goes.
Their roll of film is sitting on the counter. Steve pockets it.
"Welcome to Hawkins Fotomat, where we're developing fast," Steve says, flashing the middle aged lady one of his charming smiles.
Eddie
Eddie bounces on his toes as he waits in line to pay at the gas station.
A group of boys in letterman jackets are behind him now, standing too close, and it's making him nervous.
He pays for his gas and buys two packs of Camels and hurries out the door.
There are two more jocks standing by the van.
"In a hurry, freak? Places to go, people to murder, I guess."
Eddie ignores them. He never engages unless he is absolutely forced to.
"Chrissy wouldn't give you the time of day, so you murdered her. That's cold-blooded."
Eddie hops in the van and hopes the engine turns over on the first try. It does.
He pulls away and lets out a shaky breath. They just passed the one year anniversary, so the town is all fired up again. But all Eddie can concentrate on is that he could have been dead for a whole year, now. Exactly a year ago, Steve carried him out of that hell.
So, he's struggling today, just a little.
Chrissy Cunningham had liked him. He tells himself that, when things get bad. They could have been friends, he’s sure of it. He pictures her laughing at him. Him flirting, because just because he's gay doesn't mean he isn't a good flirt, and how she actually seemed charmed by it. It doesn't always help.
She still died a horrifying, painful death because she was hanging out with him.
That's not true. He knows that's not how it worked. But it feels true, a lot of time.
Wheeler had sat him down, Steve and Robin hovering around, as she explained in detail, that Chrissy had been marked by Vecna before she ever approached Eddie to buy drugs.
It was why she approached Eddie.
So he knows, he does, but that doesn't always matter to the gnawing guilt that sometimes tries to eat him alive. He ran.
He's going to have a fucking nightmare tonight, he's sure of it.
He needs out of this godforsaken town. He needs to run, one more time.
Next Saturday. He can make it another week.
Eddie pulls into the driveway of the house and just hopes Steve comes home soon, he needs the distraction.
Steve
Steve pulls open the bathroom door, towel knotted on his hips, Eddie right behind him in his own towel, talking. Always talking.
Steve comes face to face with Wayne and jumps, startled.
"Ah, sorry!" Steve says automatically, taking a step back, bumping into Eddie.
"Hey, what are you doing home this time of night?" Eddie asks, and Steve thinks Eddie seems awfully nonchalant for getting caught coming out of the shower together.
"Line broke down again, so they sent us home early," Wayne says.
"That place is a shit hole," Eddie answers, pushing Steve on the back to get him moving again.
They are just about into the safety of Eddie's room when Wayne calls out, "You boys want to go get something to eat?"
"Sure, give us a minute!" Eddie hollers back.
When the door to the bedroom is closed behind them, Steve wheels on Eddie, hissing, "I can't go sit across from him and eat! He knows what we were doing in there!"
"I hate to break it to you, but he's always known what we were doing," Eddie answers, removing his towel, drying his undercarriage before pulling on his boxers.
"Okay, maybe, but he knows for sure now."
"He's always known for sure, stop being weird and get dressed."
"But-"
"Steve. He knows. You basically live here in my bedroom. What did you think he thought we were doing in here? Playing checkers? He doesn't give a shit."
"But-"
Eddie hands him his underwear, which Eddie pulled from his top drawer. Okay, maybe it's not a secret if his underwear is folded and stored right beside Eddie's. Wayne does the laundry sometimes, and surely he's aware that Steve's underwear is very different from Eddie's.
"He came in and saw you curled up against me in bed the day after Christmas. He knows, Steve. He doesn’t care."
"Why didn't you tell me that?!"
"I thought you knew that he knew. We bought a very expensive house together, Steve. That doesn't exactly scream bros."
"So Joyce and Hopper know, too?" Steve asks, eyes wide. He didn’t know it was so obvious. Friends could buy a house together. He’d buy a house with Robin.
"Yes, Steve. They know."
"And you're not mad?"
"That our weird chosen family knows I love you? No, I'm not mad. They aren't going to hurt us, Steve. They love us. Well, they love you. They tolerate me."
"That's not true, they love you, too."
"Jim Hopper does not love me."
"Well, he doesn't love me either, but he loves Joyce and she loves us."
Eddie seems to nod in agreement.
Steve gets dressed while Eddie stands there, playing with his necklace, watching him.
For his twenty-first birthday in January, Steve had taken the piece of black sea glass he’d found, well, let’s be honest, that he’d stolen from Glass Beach and had it set into a pendant for Eddie.
He second-guessed himself the whole time, thought maybe a necklace was dumb to give to another guy. Even though he knew that Eddie is definitely a necklace guy. A jewelry guy, in general. Luckily, Eddie had loved it, and he hardly ever takes it off, now.
"You still should have told me."
Eddie laughs, "Okay, I'll tell you next time."
They sit across from Wayne in the diner, and Eddie was wrong, Wayne definitely gives a shit. Just, in a good way. He asks them about their renovation ideas for their new house, and about their general plans for their lives. He clearly cares what's going on with them.
Steve thinks that maybe Wayne is going to miss them both, not just Eddie, and that's a hell of a thing to realize.
Eddie
It's Saturday night and the D&D game is in full swing in the Wheeler's basement, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs. Mike just rolled a one and is having a conniption fit.
Eddie reads from his binder of notes and listens to the kids piss and moan about this injustice that has clearly befallen them.
He's pretty sure he's going to miss them even more than he'd anticipated.
After the session is over for the night, he sits with Will and answers all his questions while the other boys raid the kitchen for leftover pizza.
Will is a smart kid, and Eddie is sure he can write his own campaigns, but he's going to need to come out of his shell to give them the full effect and really bring them to life.
"Mike was our DM before Hellfire, I think maybe you should be telling him all this," Will says, shuffling papers.
Mike is too focused on girls, on El, and that's not a good fit for a teenage Dungeon Master. Eddie isn't going to say that out loud, though.
"I think you're going to be badass at it, Little Byers."
Will shakes his head, clearly unconvinced.
"I don't think I want all of them looking at me," Will admits.
Eddie pauses. That he hadn't considered, Eddie always wanted everyone looking at him.
"If you don't want to do this, you definitely don't have to. Dustin is a loudmouth. We could push this off onto him. He might need help from you with the creative side, but he could do the technical. And the theatrics."
Will nods, then looks down, "When you're different, like us, how did you keep from hiding away? Your instinct seems to be to draw attention towards yourself, mine is to hunker down and make myself smaller."
Eddie isn't sure if Will is coming out to him, or if he's just talking in the general sense of being different.
"I just decided to be myself. Well, a turned up to eleven version of myself. But the thing you need to know is that everyone is self-conscious about themselves, Will. Even the most popular kids. That's the real secret. Know that the ones you think have it all figured out are also struggling, just like you. They have self-esteem issues, too."
"Like Steve?"
"Like Steve," he confirms, "I mean, who was more held on a pedestal than King Steve? Nobody. But turns out he was a scared kid like us, on the inside. I promise. We might have different things we're scared of, but we're all scared to death most of the time."
Will nods, "I like Steve. He's nice to me."
"He's nice to me too, Will."
"Okay, tell me again."
Eddie smiles, "Okay. First things first? Steal shamelessly from other stuff. That's the first secret. You don't have to invent the wheel, just put your own spin on it."
"Okay."
"Start in the middle of the action. Just drop right into it and give them three paths to choose from. Too much backstory up front and they'll get bored. You add that in as you play, and they'll help organically, as you go. Let them. But give three options to start. Any more than that and those friends of yours are going to freeze up and not be able to decide what to do. Any less, and it feels forced. Three is the optimal amount."
"What if they don't like what I come up with?"
"Oh, they are little whiners, count on that. But trust yourself and your campaign and it'll be just fine."
"Thanks, Eddie."
"Anytime, kid. I'm always just a phone call away. I'll always be happy to help you find creative ways to torture them."
Will laughs and Eddie smiles. Will's going to do just fine.
Steve
Steve turns his key in the lock, but he can tell it's already unlocked. Wayne must be home and parked out back. He pushes the door to the house open, grocery bags in his hands. Wayne is sitting in his recliner and looks up.
"Eddie not home yet?" Steve asks. The van hadn’t been parked outside. They were supposed to meet here ten minutes ago.
Steve was running late because he ran by the grocery store and before that, the office at the Hawkins Post to buy Eddie a newspaper subscription to be sent to him by mail to their new address.
Well, he put it in his own name, not Eddie's. He didn't want anyone snooping around to know that they had Eddie's new address at their fingertips. But he wanted Eddie and Wayne to still be able to do their crosswords together, just from a distance. And probably a day or two late. Steve has no idea how long it takes to mail a newspaper to California.
"He called a little bit ago, the D&D thing is running over," Wayne says, “said he was going to just order pizza with the kids. Told me he tried to call you at work, but you'd already left.”
"Oh. Well. Okay," Steve says, shifting his weight to his other foot, uncomfortably. He still feels weird from the other day, "I can g-"
"What are you thinking for supper, kid?" Wayne asks, interrupting his attempt to escape.
Steve holds up his arm, sack dangling from it, “I bought pork chops?”
“Sounds good,” Wayne says, getting up and following Steve into the kitchen, “I can fry some potatoes. Then we can watch the ballgame, if you want."
Steve nods. He’s never really spent all that much time alone with Wayne. They worked together figuring out Eddie’s money, and sure, they get along fine, and definitely like to tease Eddie together, but that’s with Eddie present. He doesn’t know what to talk about, just one-on-one, with no Eddie buffer. The only thing they have in common is Eddie and he really doesn't want to dig himself a hole there.
"You think the Hooisers are gonna go all the way?" Wayne asks, puttering around the kitchen.
It's March Madness and Indiana is in the semi-finals, and Steve thinks they have a shot. He forgot about sports. They can definitely talk about that.
"I think they definitely have a chance," Steve says as he heads down the hall.
Steve goes and changes out of his uniform shirt, throwing on a t-shirt that looks and smells sort of clean. He thinks Eddie wore it the day before yesterday. They've packed a lot of their clothes already, pickings are getting slim.
Wayne is peeling potatoes over the trashcan when Steve gets back in the kitchen.
"Today your last day at work?" Wayne asks, putting another peeled potato onto the cutting board.
"I have one more shift tomorrow," Steve tells him. Eddie had left his temporary job working for the city last week, but Steve decided to work a little longer, just to save a little more money.
Steve had asked Hopper if he had any pull to get Eddie a temporary job working out at the city lake or with one of farms outside of town, anything like that.
Eddie couldn't work facing the public in Hawkins, they both knew that was a fucking terrible idea. But Eddie didn't just want to sit around the house, either.
It had been a very tough sell, but Hopper had called in favors and set him up. It was basically community service, but at minimum wage. He cleared brush, picked up trash, painted, anything they could think of that would keep him busy and out of the public eye.
Eddie loved it.
They’re doing okay money-wise, but the house was a lot of cash and it really ate up a lot of what was left of Steve's savings after the road trip. They split the cost of the down payment straight down the middle, and Eddie was the one with more money leftover in the end.
Steve keeps teasing him that he fully expects to be a kept man, now.
Steve had gotten his dad to co-sign the mortgage. There had been long conversations with Eddie about whether they wanted to do that or not, but when it came down to it, they could either pretty easily afford this house with his dad as a co-signer, but without it, they'd have to find something else.
Steve was really on the side of no, but Eddie said if his parents would do it, he should let them do something for him for once.
Eddie loves that house and Steve loves Eddie, so they agreed to at least ask, with the promise to themselves that they will refinance as soon as it is feasible, and get the mortgage solely in their own names. It'd been a hard conversation for Steve to get the nerve to start, but his dad had just signed it without really paying attention. Didn't even ask for any details. If he noticed that it was also in Eddie's name, he definitely didn't comment on it.
It really brought down the interest rate to be mangable, and got the loan amount high enough to cover it, so Steve is grateful, but he kinda wishes his dad would have at least asked him something, anything. Instead, he signed his name and sent Steve off to his business manager to get the rest of what they needed. This indifference might be worse than his dad riding his ass like he did there for a while in high school.
Steve gets a cast iron skillet out of the cabinet, and starts heating oil up for Wayne.
"How are your parents doing with you moving?" Wayne asks, glancing his way, as if he can read Steve's mind.
Steve just keeps working, "They're fine. They aren't around much, anyway."
"You're their only kid, though, right?"
"Yeah, it's just me."
"Must be hard for them to let you go."
Steve isn't sure that's true, but it's a nice sentiment. They aren't really involved in his day to day life. It won't really change anything if he's living in Hawkins or across the country.
"Don't tell him, but I'll miss Eddie," Wayne says with a smile, "I'll miss both of you boys around the house."
Steve swallows, "We'll both miss you, too. Thanks for letting me stay here so much."
"You're always welcome here, you know that. You're a good kid," Wayne says, still cutting potatoes.
Steve laughs, "I don't know about that."
"I sure didn't know what to expect when Eddie told me he was running around with the Harrington boy," Wayne says with a smile, "I sure as shit didn't expect you, I'll tell you that."
Steve laughs, "I was a spoiled little shithead for a long time, so I'm sure whatever you'd heard was unfortunately true."
"But not now," Wayne states, a fact.
"No, I hope not now."
"You boys," Wayne says, then pauses, "you boys will do well away from here. Just you see."
"I hope so," Steve says.
"You get the U-Haul all reserved?"
"Yeah, but I'm a little nervous to pull the car on a trailer. I've never driven anything that big or pulled a trailer before. Now I have to do both at once? It's a little nerve-wracking to think about."
"I'll take you out and we'll figure it out together, before you start loading stuff. I used to be a long haul trucker, before Eddie. I'll teach you some tricks. You'll do fine."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
They're leaving the van with Wayne, Eddie wasn't quite ready to let it go, and will get Eddie a different vehicle, probably a truck, when they get there.
"You know what you're going to do for work out there?"
"Me? No idea, I'm not really qualified to do anything. Retail, I guess, but we're kind of out in the middle of nowhere. They had an opening for a forest firefighter, but Eddie vetoed that right out of the gate," Steve says.
"I'm with Eddie there, kid. No more dangerous stuff if you can help it. The way Eddie talks, you've both used up most of your nine lives already."
"He's not wrong," Steve admits. "I want Eddie to apply with the National Parks Service, but he's dragging his feet. He thinks they won't even interview him the way he looks," and Steve knows Eddie's also still deciding if he's willing to permanently give up weed. Reagan mandated drug testing for federal employees last year and Eddie isn't so sure that's the life for him.
But Steve noticed he hasn't replenished his stash, so he's hoping Eddie's at least considering it.
"He's too hard on himself."
"Tell me about it," Steve says, "he's talked about cutting his hair, thinks that would help, but I can tell he doesn't want to."
"It's his security blanket," Wayne says, and Steve turns to look at him. Wayne sees him, "Did you not know that?"
Steve shakes his head, he should have, though.
"That boy had a buzz cut when I got him. Foster family did it to him, easier to maintain. I didn't know that wasn't his preference. And he didn't know I didn't care, so we kept it up for a couple years, him thinking that's what I expected. Me thinking that's what he wanted. Vicious circle. Unsurprisingly, we've never been the best communicators," Wayne admits with a laugh. "He got ready to start high school and said he was thinking of growing his hair out," Wayne chuckles, "now, to be fair, I didn't imagine the length he has now."
"And you didn't care?"
"It's his hair, not mine," Wayne says, shrugging, "wish I didn't have to snake the shower drain so often, but that's gonna be your problem now," Wayne teases.
Steve laughs, but he's just realizing they may actually have a plumbing problem in the future. Steve sheds too, with as much thick hair as he has. He doesn't know how to snake a drain.
"Uh, I might need you to show me how to do that, too."
"Sure thing, kid. After we eat. It can be gross," Wayne laughs.
"Eddie's had that hair as long as I can remember him. We weren't friends or anything, but I knew of him."
"Eddie 'The Freak’ Munson," Wayne says and Steve flushes with shame.
"Yeah. I was an asshole."
"I don't know how much he's told you, but he had a rough childhood after his mom died."
"Foster care, he said."
"Over a year," and Steve's stomach drops. Eddie never said it was that long.
"Chuckie, my brother, he was in and out of jail before he ended up in prison. And it took me a while to get Eddie. I didn't realize how bad he'd had it, not for a long time," Wayne says.
"I hate that," Steve says.
"Me too. He was such a good kid, that's not just me being biased, he really was a sweet boy. And the world has treated him like shit."
"He's still sweet. He is. They didn't break him, not permanently," Steve swears.
"I know. And I'm thankful for that. He was my little shadow, those first months. Quiet, if you can believe that, but right near me all the time. I didn't know what would happen when it was time for school to start. But he made friends and before long he was raising hell," Wayne says, but it's with a smile.
"He was never really in trouble, before, you know, the murder bullshit, was he?"
"No, not really. Jim Hopper escorted him home a time or two, but never for anything I got too worked up about. I wasn't wild about the drug dealing, but he was an adult by the time I found out, so I couldn't really stop him."
"Then why does he think he's going to turn out like his dad?"
"That's a good question. And I don’t have the answer. His daddy had hair like Eddie's, before he went to the pen," Wayne adds, "but that's where the similarities end. Eddie doesn't even really look like him, just the hair."
"Does he look like his mom?" Steve asks.
"Eddie looks like Eddie," Wayne says, "but, maybe her a little more than Chuckie. She was too good for my brother."
Steve nods.
"Watch those," Wayne says, and disappears down the hall.
When he comes back he has a wedding picture, and Steve assumes it must be Eddie's parents. Wayne points to himself in the wedding party, "She should have ran, but she was pregnant with Eddie. Thought she could change my brother, I suppose. I love him, but that was never gonna happen."
Steve studies the picture, "Eddie has her eyes."
Wayne looks closer, "Yeah, I can see that."
"Your brother," Steve starts, but doesn't have an end to the sentence.
"Younger brother, yeah. He's always been a wild one."
"Eddie, any time he does anything questionable, he acts like he's destined to follow in his footsteps."
"Living up to the Munson name," Wayne parrots, "I know. That's my name, too. Eventually, I hope he realizes that this branch of the family tree is okay. We're nothing special, but we aren't bad folks."
Steve feels the tears prick his eyes, "You're both pretty special to me," Steve says, and then he's embarrassed.
Wayne grips his shoulder, "Well, we feel the same about you, Steve."
Steve is about to lose his composure.
Wayne continues.
"I know you worry, worry about things outside of your control. Eddie likes boys. Eddie's always liked boys and fighting that made no sense to me. I love him, all of him. I'm not going to pick and choose what parts. I know not everyone thinks that way, but I'm not in the business of trying to change him to make myself more comfortable."
"Eddie's the first boy, for me," Steve says, quietly. Wayne didn’t ask, and Steve isn’t sure why he’s offering up this information.
"And that's okay, too."
"But I love Eddie, in case you were worried," Steve says, softly. "My ex-girlfriend tried to get back with me when we got home. A future with her was, like, my dream. And I didn't even consider it. Not for a second. Because I love him. So don't worry."
Wayne reaches over and pulls Steve into an awkward hug, and Steve eventually hugs back.
"I'm not worried. I know how you feel about him," Wayne says, patting him on the back.
"My parents don't know. Not because I think they'll do anything to me. I'm just, we're not, we aren't close enough for me to tell them anything personal, not really."
"That's on them," Wayne says, pulling back to look at him. "You can always come to me with anything, okay? Anything. You get in trouble, either of you, you call me. You just get tired of hearing Eddie running his mouth about things you don't understand and want to talk about basketball, or the weather, for a bit instead? Call me."
Steve nods.
"You're good boys, if anyone has a problem with things that ain't their business, that's on them, too. Not you. Understand, me?"
Steve nods. He's grateful. Grateful that Eddie has Uncle Wayne. Grateful he has him now, too.
Eddie feels like he’s it for Steve, but Steve knows they are so young that it seems unlikely to last. He doesn’t know what to do with those fears.
“I’m scared we found each other too young,” Steve blurts out, then turns his head away.
“You are young. And sometimes it doesn’t work out. I was married once, briefly, when I was young. I’m not sure Eddie even knows that, I think he just assumed I hadn’t been and never asked,” Wayne offers.
Steve just nods, still looking away.
“If you want it to last, you will have to work on it. Just keep trying, okay? Don’t just throw in the towel right away if it gets hard. And it will get hard, I promise. Eddie will annoy you and you’ll annoy him, and money will be an issue, or kids. It’s always something. But I see the way you look at each other, treat each other, and from my outside view? I think you can make it, I really do.”
Steve nods, “Thanks, I hope so.”
Right now, Steve wants that more than anything in the world.
"It's been a year," Steve finally says, "he could have died a year ago and I'm having trouble with that," he admits.
Steve is sure Wayne is also acutely aware that it's been a year.
"Steve, he's fine. You're both fine," Wayne says, reassuring him.
"I know, but I'm still worried about him. The town is revved up, again. I feel like I need to get him out of here, like, yesterday."
Wayne nods, and Steve knows he understands.
They eat in the living room and when Eddie gets home late, they are watching the basketball game highlights on SportsCenter together.
"Ew, sports," Eddie teases, flopping down on the couch with Steve, putting his feet in Steve's lap. Stealing Steve's beer right out of his hand.
"Did you win or whatever?" Steve asks.
"We didn't finish, we'll need one more night before we go."
Steve smiles a little sadly, the kids are going to miss Eddie. He knows Eddie is trying to train Will to be his replacement DM, and Will is a good kid, but he isn't Eddie. Nobody is Eddie, Steve knows that for damn sure.
Wayne looks over at them, "Might want to make it for the day after tomorrow. Steve and I will be watching Indiana in the Championship," Wayne says, getting up.
"Thanks for the warning," Eddie says dramatically, acting like he's dying right on the couch, nearly rolling off onto the coffee table, but Steve stops him from falling.
Steve rolls his eyes, "So dramatic."
Eddie settles back into his spot on the couch.
"Okay, I'm going to bed, boys. I have to get up at four, so keep it to a dull roar, Eddie," Wayne says, standing up.
Steve has no idea how Wayne works different hours all the time. Steve thinks he'd never get any sleep if he had to do that. But Wayne can crash whenever he needs to, it seems. Steve's been impressed.
"Ugh, why am I being singled out?" Eddie asks, pretending to be very offended.
"Only one of you has a motor mouth, and you damn well know it isn't Steve," Wayne says, but he grips Eddie's shoulder briefly as he walks by the couch.
"Rude," Eddie answers, but he tilts his head backwards to look up at Wayne, upside down, "night, old man."
"Night, kiddo," and then he's gone.
"I'm sorry I'm so late, was it weird? I tried to call you, head you off at the pass," Eddie starts in, and Steve can tell he's nervous that Steve's mad.
"It was good. It was really good. We made dinner and watched the game. The Hoosiers won by four."
"I bet you talked all kinds of shit about me together. Bad idea to let you interact without supervision."
"Yep. I know all your dirty secrets now," Steve says, and Eddie shifts on the couch to curl into his side.
"He told you about finding my stash of Playgirl under my bed, then?"
Steve's eyes get huge, "No!" He doesn't believe Eddie. This sounds like one of his tall tales.
"I swear on Dustin's mother. Talk about embarrassing."
"Where were you getting them? How old were you?"
"Sixteen? Seventeen? I don't know. And I was stealing them. You think I was gonna waltz in and buy them? I thought he was going to murder me."
"But he didn't murder you."
"He didn't. He gave me a really awkward safe sex talk and then we just pretended it never happened. And then I, well, he started getting plain, wrapped magazines in the mail that he'd leave on my bed."
"No!" Steve hisses, he is dying of secondhand embarrassment.
"He didn't want me shoplifting them anymore, so he did it and we never talked about it. I suppose he put them in his name because I was underage."
"Or he just wanted to protect you if someone opened one and found out."
Eddie looks at Steve like he just revealed an unknown truth of the world, "Wow. I never considered that."
"When did you stop getting them?"
"Got one last week. Had quite the backlog when we got home."
"No, you're lying."
"I'll show you when we go to bed," Eddie laughs, "hopefully he cancels them when we leave. He's a good uncle, but I don't want to come to visit and find a year's supply of them," Eddie laughs at the idea of them shoved in every drawer in his room.
"He loves you. All of you," Steve assures.
Eddie smiles, "I know. He didn't treat me any different. He probably knew before that, but that was, like, irrefutable proof."
Steve is sure Wayne knew before then, he said Eddie always liked boys, so he must have known really early.
"He knows we're together," Steve says.
"No fucking shit, I told you that. Did he give you grief?"
"No, no he was cool," Steve says, and he knows that's an understatement.
They lay in bed later, giggling as they flip through Eddie's latest edition. Judd Nelson is on the cover.
"They aren't even hard!" Steve giggles, flipping the pages.
"They can't show that," Eddie laughs.
"And this turns you on?" Steve asks, pointing at the model, laying in what seems to be a horse barn. This really does not do it for Steve. Playboy he understands. He likes looking at boobies.
"Well, not now, no. But before I'd even seen a naked man in a sexual context, this was very titillating."
Steve cocks his head to the side, trying to see what the fuss would be. A lot of it is just men in underwear, "I guess. Should I be attracted to these pictures? I'm not," Steve admits.
"I don't think you should be attracted to anything. You like what you like."
Steve thinks about it, "I'm attracted to you."
"Good to know," Eddie teases, "I had no idea."
"Shut up," Steve laughs, swatting him with the magazine.
"You should pose for me like that," Eddie suggests, "that would turn me on."
Steve laughs, "I have one shift left, if you have any special photo requests. It's now or never."
"Seriously?" Eddie asks, eyes wide.
"Oh my god, what do you want me to do?" Steve asks and Eddie just smiles, wickedly.
"Have you ever seen Burt Reynolds' centerfold from Cosmopolitan magazine?"
Steve hasn't, but now he's scared.
Eddie touches his chin, thoughtfully, "I'm not really sure where to get a bearskin rug on such short notice, though."
Steve giggles.
“Do you happen to have a football jersey instead? With your name on the back?” Eddie asks.
“I didn’t play football. I probably have a basketball jersey?” Steve says, suspicious of this line of questioning.
Eddie digs around and eventually pulls a book from his closet, tossing it to Steve.
Steve flips through the well-worn paperback, Burt Reynolds Hotline: The Letters I Get…and Write! and laughs. He feels like he’s learning brand new things about Eddie right now.
In the end, they don't do either, but Eddie does take a couple other less high-concept pictures of him that Steve would still die if anyone else ever saw.
Eddie
A couple nights later, as promised, Steve's home watching the championship game with Wayne. Of course, tonight would have to be the night that the van decided it wouldn't start after D&D. Eddie doesn't want to interrupt the ballgame for either of them, so he just decides to walk home. He'll come back and get the van running in the morning, when he has some daylight to work with.
A horn honks at him from behind and he jumps, embarrassingly. He really doesn't want to get run over or have the shit beat out of him right before they get out of this godforsaken town.
"Hey, kid. Didn't mean to scare you."
It's just Hopper.
Eddie walks over and leans up to the passenger side door of the Blazer.
"What are you doing walking out here after dark?" Hopper sounds concerned, and that's weird. Nice, but weird.
"The van wouldn't start. It's a piece of shit. It's my piece of shit, but still," Eddie laughs.
"Get in."
Eddie does.
"Uncle Wayne will enjoy seeing you bring me home one more time."
Hopper laughs, "I can use the lights if you want me to."
Wayne might find it funny, but Steve definitely wouldn't. He's been more of a mother hen than usual this week.
"Let's not give him a heart attack right before we leave."
"Are you kids all ready to go?" Hopper asks, glancing his way.
"Almost. We need to pick up the U-Haul. Uncle Wayne is going to teach Steve how to pull the trailer."
"You taking the piece of shit van?" Hopper teases.
Eddie laughs, "No. Just his car. I'll find something out there. I'm thinking a pickup."
"Just check the Blue Book value first. Don't overpay. Call me if you need help."
"Thanks," Eddie says, and they might actually need help. Eddie only knows how to buy cheap pieces of shit that barely run, and Steve's car had to be over thirty thousand dollars, brand new, when his parents handed it over. Which he's sure Steve has never even thought about.
Eddie thinks he better work to keep it running for Steve, he's not sure when they'd ever be able to replace it with anything near that nice.
"The kids are going to miss you both."
"We'll miss them, too. I think Steve feels really guilty that we're abandoning them."
"They'll be fine. You need to live your own lives and I don't think this is the place for you to do that."
"It's definitely not for me. It's been a week," Eddie admits.
"If there's anyone I need to talk to, you be sure to let me know."
"It's okay, but thanks."
"You did a really good job working this spring, so if you need a reference when you get out there, you can use me," Hopper offers, and it looks like it hurts him, just a little.
"Thank you," Eddie says, then asks, "did Steve put you up to this? He's been trying to get me to apply with the National Parks Service."
"He might have mentioned that," Hopper admits, smirking at Eddie.
"He's such a mom."
Hopper laughs at that.
They ride in silence, and Eddie is sure that Hopper doesn't really like him, but he appreciates that he's still trying to be kind to him.
When they pull up in the driveway, Steve must have heard the unfamiliar vehicle, because he's stepping outside, looking worried, putting his hands on his hips.
"Uh oh. Mom looks mad," Hopper teases, and waves at Steve.
Steve reluctantly waves back.
Eddie laughs, "That's just his face. Thanks for the ride."
Hopper nods and Eddie hops down from the Blazer and heads towards Steve.
"What happened?" Steve demands.
"I'm fine, the van just wouldn't start. Hopper gave me a ride home. He offered to use lights, but I thought you might have a stroke."
Steve lulls his head to the side to look at Eddie, like he's saying well, no shit.
Eddie grips his bicep, "I'm good, Steve. I promise. You can unclench."
Steve puts his hand on the small of Eddie's back and ushers him inside.
Looks like they can still catch the final minutes of the game. How fun for Eddie.
Steve
The going away party has all their favorite people. Robin makes it back to town, and Steve is so happy to see her. Even Steve's parents showed up for a little bit, and Steve has no idea how Henderson tracked them down, let alone got them to come. But they did, and unfortunately Steve could tell they were just very confused about how he knew any of these people.
That just made him sad. These people are his family, the family he's chosen, and his parents are the ones on the outside looking in.
That was a bitter pill to swallow.
He didn't really feel comfortable with them being in his home, and Wayne's house is his home, now. He feels guilty that he's relieved when they leave early, but he watches them go from the door, giving his mom a wave when she looks back at the house.
Wayne comes up behind him and grips his shoulder, and Steve leans into his touch, just a little.
After the party is over, they are trying to finish packing up the few things left in Eddie's room. They are leaving the bed for when they visit, Uncle Wayne made it very clear that they were always welcome to come home any time. Encouraged it, even. Steve had never officially moved in with them at the house, but he had slowly migrated a lot of his stuff over, a handful at a time as he needed things.
He definitely stayed enough nights here that it was all but true. It feels like his home, so that's all that really matters, he thinks.
He's pretty sure he could count on his fingers the times he's slept in his own bed these last three months. And almost all of those were when Eddie wanted to fuck in King Steve's bedroom. It was a whole thing there for a bit. Steve didn't really get it, but since it got Eddie all hot and bothered, he went along with it, no questions asked.
They had tried to sleep apart at first, when Robin had deemed them codependent, but it hadn't lasted long. Eddie turned up at his window, tapping to be let in, saying he couldn't sleep without Steve's snoring.
Steve thought he should be offended, but Eddie clearly meant it, as he curled against Steve's side and sighed, sounding content.
So they've been packing up their joint belongings in Eddie's room. There's still a few things in Steve's old room, but not a whole lot that he plans to take.
Eddie digs around in the closet and hands Steve a large, fairly heavy, sloppily wrapped box.
Steve raises an eyebrow.
"It's your housewarming gift," Eddie says, smirking.
Steve laughs, "We aren’t at the house yet.”
“Open it.”
“I didn't know you were supposed to buy something when you're also moving in. I don't have anything for you."
Eddie waves his hand, "Open it, Harrington."
Steve does. It's a copy of every record that was in their sex cabin in Big Arm. Plus, Islands in the Stream. Steve laughs in delight. That makes Eddie smile.
Steve reaches out and gets Eddie to bend down to kiss him, then says, "I promise we'll make good use of these."
Eddie smiles at him like he can't think of anything he'd want more.
It's early on moving day and Wayne is taking turns hugging them both in the driveway.
"Be careful," he says, "call me."
"We will," Steve promises.
"Steve, I don't want you pulling that trailer after dark. It's not that I think you're not capable, you are, but it'd make me feel better to know that you're going to stop and rest and travel by daylight," Wayne tells him.
"We'll stop, I promise. We aren't in a wild rush."
"If anything feels off, stop when it's safe and check it out."
Steve nods.
"Maybe think twice before letting Eddie drive. I've seen the way he drives the van," Wayne teases, "unless you want all your belongings tossed around in a heap. Then let him have at it."
"Hey!" Eddie says, acting affronted.
Wayne just gives him a look, daring him to deny it.
Eddie hugs Wayne tight, “I love you, old man. Thanks for everything.”
Wayne waves him off, but Steve sees how tight he hugs Eddie back.
Eddie
They hit the city limits and Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smiling. He just can't keep it in any longer.
"I have an interview with the National Parks Service when we get there."
Steve beams at him, "I'm so happy you called them."
"Thanks for encouraging me to. It might not work out, but at least I'm trying."
"They'll be lucky to have you," Steve tells him.
Steve taps the atlas between them on the bench seat, "You navigating?"
Eddie smiles, "Always,” and he picks up the atlas and pretends to look at it, then just says, “Keep heading west. About as far as we can go."
Steve laughs, “Those aren’t very specific directions.”
Eddie smiles back, “You’re so demanding. Fine. We’re going to go north once we get to Lafayette. Then we’ll head west when we get to Gary. Happy?” he asks, putting the atlas back down between them.
“With you? Always,” Steve answers, putting his hand back on the atlas, an invitation.
Eddie smiles and takes it, reaching over and covering Steve's hand with his own.
Eddie looks out the window to the passenger side mirror, and watches Hawkins shrink from sight. He's surprised he's a little sad to see it disappear into the horizon, but he's more than ready to get a fresh start from the past.
Eddie turns to look at Steve and smiles. Steve catches him out of the corner of his eye, squeezes his hand and smiles back. Eddie finds it suddenly much easier to let go of the past, when his future looks so damn hopeful.
Notes:
If you like a story contained all within one point in time, this can be your finish line. It can definitely be complete, as is. Thank you for reading! But if you, like me, enjoy a future epilogue, hang around for the next chapter, because that’s what’s coming next and it is huge. Seriously, like 30,000+ words, big. I guess I just knew way too much about what will happen in their lives, lol. Expect it sometime between Christmas the the new year!
There will be an appendix posted after the epilogue, with a map and additional info about their trip. I didn't include that in the chapter count, but it will pop up after the fic is finished, if you're subscribed.
If Steve's car is an '83, the MSRP list price was $36,300. If it’s an ‘81, it was $31,980. Either way, in today's world, that means Steve would be driving around in a car that sold for a little over $100,000. No wonder he's protective of it, lol. (They still make the 7-Series, and they start at about $86,800. So a deal in comparison, lol!)
Did the Blazer get blown up in S3? Sure. They must have fixed it! It’s a miracle! ;)
I don’t know that Fotomat’s ever did one-hour photos. Most of them were parking lot kiosks, and rolls were sent to local labs to be printed overnight. Here’s a picture of one in 1987. But it was definitely possible by this time, Eddie and Steve took advantage all over the country! So I’m saying this one did. Hawkins is special, yo. Haha.
No full frontal, but still NSFW, here’s Burt Reynolds on a bearskin rug. And the Burt Reynolds the football picture in the book that Eddie was inquiring about, lol.
Sex cabin records:
- Let's Stay Together by Al Green
- Fever by Elvis
- Use Me by Bill Withers
- Do That To Me One More Time by Captain and Tennille
- You Sexy Thing by Hot Chocolate
- Night Moves by Bob Seger
- Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke
- These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding
- Let's Get It On by Marvin Gaye
- Afternoon Delight by Starland Vocal Band
Photo credits: House from Houzz. Playgirl magazine from eBay. Blazer from the show. D&D stuff from Dread Central taken during a set visit. Burt's book from Awful Library Books. Screencap of the ballgame from YouTube.
Chapter 21: Say You Won't Let Go/The Bones
Summary:
Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future.
It seemed appropriate that since we started with Steve Miller Band, and that we end with a little Steve Miller Band, even if I ended up naming the epilogue something else. It had a lot of titles along the way. Want to hear some of the songs I listened to while I wrote it? Here you go! Epilogue Inspiration - Spotify Playlist. Some are on the nose, some are just a vibe for certain parts.
We’re definitely tripping through time here in this epilogue. The good, the bad, the happy, the sad. You know, life. Now, if you are someone that wants spoiled for what the ending may have in store, the tags and archive warnings are always there. ;)
I think I could have kept adding and tinkering with it forever. I haven't been quite ready to let them go. <3
Notes:
So many thanks to everyone that came along on this ride, I never expected it to be what it turned out to be in the end. I appreciate all your comments, kudos, bookmarks, sharing it with your friends, etc. <3 <3
I had fun. I hope you did, too.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
i'm gonna love you 'til
my lungs give out
i promise 'til death we part
like in our vows
it's just you and me,
'til we're grey and old
Say You Won't Let Go, James Arthur
yeah, life sure can try
to put love through it, but
we built this right,
so nothing's ever gonna move it
The Bones, Maren Morris
Steve
2023
Steve is bordering on hysterical. Willing Robin to pick up the goddamn phone. He has a police escort, well, a Park Service law enforcement escort, according to the decal on the rear hatch of the vehicle in front of him. It's still lights and sirens, when needed.
They're doing about eighty-five, and Steve's keeping up without tailgating, at least not too often. He did have to turn off the pre-collision braking, since it was clearly not appreciating this type of driving. It makes him wish he was in the BMW. He never had to fight it just to drive.
He pushes the redial button. Again. It finally, finally, connects, Robin’s voice filling the car.
"You've called like four times, dingus. Can't a woman take a shower in peace on her day off?" Robin finally says when she picks up the phone, her laughter surrounding him.
He can't even find the words. His mouth seems glued shut now that he has her on the line.
"Steve? What's wrong?" Her tone changed immediately. He knows she knows him too well to not know something was wrong when he wasn't bantering back immediately.
"Steve? Are you okay? Can you hear me? Are your hearing aids dead? Steve! Hang on a minute, I'm gonna call Eddie on the other line."
He makes a noise at that, then finally gets his mouth to work, "Eddie's hurt. He's really hurt, Robin. I'm on my way to San Francisco."
"San Francisco?" she screams. His hearing aids are definitely working just fine.
"He's in the air, they said they thought he needed a level one trauma center. That's the closest one. Fuck, Robin, what am I going to do?"
"Are you on your way?"
"Yes, I'm on the way."
“Driving? Flying?”
“Driving,” it hadn’t even occurred to him to consider flying. They’ve done that before. Hopped a flight from the regional airport for a just over an hour flight into San Francisco. But it’s not like they run flights all day, it would have to be quicker to just get in the car and drive.
"What happened?" she yells and he can hear her banging around. He's pretty sure he's on speakerphone now.
"I don't know. I don't fucking know anything," Steve got the phone call and when he hit the end of driveway, there were two Park law enforcement vehicles waiting, and they surrounded him, getting him onto the 101. It was emotional to drive through what Steve has always considered Eddie’s trees, to get to the four-lane highway.
They drove this exact route, just in reverse, together in 1986. And Steve can picture Eddie beside him, clear as the day the day it happened. Neither of them knew they were headed straight towards home that day. They didn’t know they would pass right through the town where they'd build their whole damn life together.
He grips the steering wheel tighter.
They drove this route hundreds of times during all the years Robin was in San Francisco. He wishes she was still there right now, desperately.
"They said he got really sweaty and then was just down," Steve finally says, "they said he fell off a rock.”
"A rock?!" Robin screams back, "How far did he fall?"
"I don't know!" he yells back.
"Did he hit his head?!"
"Robin. Please. I don't know. I don't know."
"Sorry, I'm sorry."
“I can’t get a hold of Ells,” he says, trying not to start crying, “Robin.”
“I’ll find her,” Robin promises, “I’m leaving right now. You be careful!" she demands.
Every so often the trucks have fallen back and two new ones have pulled up into their places. He thinks he might have a tag team of escorts the whole way there. It makes him want to cry more than he already has. They love Eddie at work. He knows these rangers aren’t even in his department, Eddie’s not law enforcement. But he’s not at all surprised that his department somehow set this up on the fly. He's trained so many of them, he's their bottomless wealth of information. Their boss. Their friend.
So, Steve knows Eddie's co-workers organized this escort, just to make sure Steve would get there fast and safely. Because that's what Eddie would want.
Eddie was eligible to retire last year, at fifty-six years and four months, but he wasn't ready for that. Hell, he could have taken early retirement ten years ago, he had enough years. But he loves his job.
Now, Eddie's the head of his department, but he wheedled his way into giving tours two days a week, despite being paid way, way too much to be doing that. He loves it though. Nobody has ever been as excited to share information and their love of the Parks as Eddie.
He's good at what he does, so good that he got to be the one to lead the tour they gave to President Carter to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of him signing the Park expansion bill.
Eddie wasn't sure he should be the face of the Park to a former president. He wasn't exactly who you'd put on the brochure.
But his department head was adamant that Eddie take point, and by all accounts, it was the right choice.
Steve never had any doubt. Eddie's been Steve's personal tour guide for over thirty-six years, and he's the best in the business. Thirty-six years. It's not enough. Another thirty-six wouldn't be enough.
Anyone that got lucky and has had Eddie as their guide, from a former President to school field trips, really has had the best. He's been working his way up the ladder for decades, until he was the resident expert in his department. For him to be giving tours is several levels below his pay grade.
But Steve thinks Eddie's never been happier. Eddie dying with his boots on, doing what he loves, wouldn't be the worst way to go. By his age, Steve has learned there are things far worse than sudden death. But.
But this cannot be it, not yet.
They haven't had enough time.
1987
"My boyfriend is a fed," Steve teases, wrapping Eddie up in a big hug.
"I'm not a fed," Eddie insists, hugging him back, "I'm a federal employee. A temporary federal employee, at that. That might not even count as a federal employee, to be honest."
"Tomato, Tomahto," Steve teases, "I'm so proud of you, honey."
"I get to keep my hair, too. I just have to wear it pulled back neatly or I could keep it hidden under my hat. Totally doable, though."
Steve smiles, he's very happy about that. He never would have said a negative word if cutting it was necessary, but he's not quite ready for that and he's glad it isn't a requirement for the job.
"What exactly will you do?"
"Glorified gopher, I think. Like, change the numbers on the attendance signs, refill the hand soap in the bathroom, I don't know, same thing as in Hawkins, maybe," Eddie laughs.
"But your foot is in the door," Steve says.
"It is. If I do well, they might hire me as a full-time employee in the future."
“Then you'll be able to afford to take me to Hawaii,” Steve teases, giving Eddie a wink, “I’ll make sure you get lei’d.”
2009
Steve's standing on the beach, looking out over the water. It took them a few years longer than they'd expected, but they finally checked Hawaii off their list.
It became a promise, a vow, over the years. It saved them once, in the early years. During a fight when Steve was sure they were really done.
1991
It's been a hard year. 1989 was rough, too. Steve really hopes this isn’t the start of every other year being good or bad. He doesn’t think he can withstand the rollercoaster of emotions.
This year the Park Service temporarily transferred Eddie nearly five hundred miles away. Transferred probably isn't the right word. It was voluntary, and came with a raise and a bonus, plus the promise of a bump up the pay scale back home at the end of the year, but it's been harder than they anticipated.
Their schedules haven't lined up as well as they’d intended them to, and it's just too far for one of them to make the drive every weekend. They've met in the middle whenever they can, but it's put a strain on their relationship that's never been there before.
Steve can't even blame Eddie for this, they made this decision together. It just hasn't been as easy as they'd thought it would be when they signed up for it.
Last month they had a non-fight fight after Steve went to Robin's for the weekend and didn't tell Eddie first.
Steve called him at eight, like he always did, and Eddie was confused by all the noise in the background. Steve told him he'd gone down to Robin's, in San Francisco. Nancy was there, and Jonathan and Argyle had turned up.
All their friends, but no Eddie. He hadn't even been invited.
"I wish you'd said you were doing that, I'm only four hours from her house," Eddie had told him.
And Steve knew that. He did. But he was just tired of Eddie not being able to come home or being too tired to meet up halfway.
"I didn't figure you'd want to," Steve had said, "you're always too tired."
"Yeah, that's true, I guess," Eddie answered, "you’re busy, I'll let you go."
"Okay," Steve had agreed, easily. Too easily.
"Love you, sweetheart."
"You too, honey."
The next day, Steve was hungover, eating a huge plate of eggs and bacon at Robin’s kitchen bar when Argyle had said, "Uh, Steve, my man? I think your boyfriend is loitering in the driveway."
Steve had looked out the window and sure enough, there was Eddie leaning against his pickup, smoking a cigarette. Steve ran outside without even putting on his shoes, barely giving Eddie a chance to stub out his cigarette before Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck, asking him, "What are you doing here?"
"You were so close, I just wanted to see you before you headed back home," Eddie answered, hugging Steve back.
Steve had kissed him, and then tugged him inside and down the hall to the guest bedroom, ignoring Robin's protests of no sex in her house, as they went by everyone.
Now, a month later, Eddie is home for the long weekend and is manhandling Steve onto their bed and Steve isn't in the mood.
"Did you drive ten hours just to put your dick in me?" Steve snaps.
"Well, kinda, yeah," Eddie laughs, and Steve bristles.
"Great. Glad to be of service, Eddie," Steve says, rolling over onto his stomach, "Is this how you want me?"
Eddie makes a noise Steve doesn't quite recognize, and he definitely knows it wasn't a happy sound, but he refuses to look back at him, "Well? Get on with it, then."
He'd been trying to tell him about the leaking roof and the edge of the porch that's about to come off the foundation and Eddie had just nodded, clearly not listening, and pulled him into the bedroom.
Steve isn't horny, he's exhausted. Keeping a house that wants to fall down around his ears upright by himself has been a fucking undertaking.
He feels the bed shake, Eddie getting off of it, and then hears the guest bedroom door slam shut.
He huffs, and climbs off the bed and follows. Eddie wasn't out of line, the first thing they've done every other time they've met up is get straight in bed.
But Steve was trying to talk to him first, and he wasn't at all being heard.
The guest room door is locked. So they fight through it, saying all the mean things they've been bottling up for nine months. All the resentments that have built up, unleashing them all at once, drowning them both.
When there's a lull, Steve asks, "Are we done?" his palm resting on the door.
Eddie doesn't answer.
It's too quiet. Eddie's done, shut down, and he's not going to get anything else out of him. Maybe not ever again. Steve can feel it. It's different. The chill of Eddie's pointed silence. Eddie going silent is bad news. Usually if he's mad, he makes sure Steve damn well knows it.
It pisses Steve off, that this is their biggest fight and they weren't even brave enough to do it face to face. Cowards, both of them.
"Okay, Eddie," Steve finally says, dejected, "I'll go. I'm going to Robin's."
Tears are threatening to spill over, but he pushes them back down as best he can. If this is it, if they can’t recover from the wound this distance has caused, he thinks five years was a good run. Overall, they've been good years and it's longer than he thought he'd be able to hold onto Eddie. Longer than he thought he'd keep Eddie engaged and interested in his idiotic bullshit.
Steve makes it to the door, putting on his shoes, grabbing his keys, when Eddie pops his head out of the guest bedroom at the other end of the long hallway of the house in the trees.
"Hey! Harrington!"
Steve turns, glares. Sure the final fuck you is coming. Eddie just looks at him, and he doesn't look mad, he looks heartbroken. He's been crying too, Steve can tell.
Eddie says, "This isn't over. We haven't gone to Hawaii yet."
Steve hangs his head backwards, looking at the ceiling, still mad, but he can't help the little smile that pulls at his mouth. Nodding his head. Finally letting the tears loose.
"Okay, Eddie. Deal's a deal," he tells him, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand.
He walks back to the guest bedroom, cornering Eddie, burying his face in Eddie's neck, "I’m still kind of mad at you."
Eddie hugs him tight, "I know."
"I still love you."
"I know that, too."
They sit together on the floor, leaning against the guest bed for a long time. Eddie playing with Steve's hands, just to be touching him.
"I've missed you, it's been really hard," Steve says, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder.
"I've missed you, too, sweetheart. I'm sorry I jumped you."
"I like when you jump me," Steve smiles, "but it was just a bad day, a bad week, a bad year. The house is falling apart, Eddie."
"We'll fix it. I promise."
Steve nods against his shoulder, "Maybe we should sell it. I'll move wherever you are. You can travel, Park to Park. Work anywhere you want to, and not be tied down here. I can find a retail job anywhere you are."
"I'll be back in three months, let's not sell our house. I want to be tied down here. I want this to be our home. I want to raise our babies here. We've almost made it through the year."
"You want babies?" Steve asks, smiling a little.
"Maybe not tomorrow. But yeah, for sure, I want babies with you. As many as you want, Harrington. A whole house full, if that makes you happy."
Steve smiles. He wants that with Eddie. He doesn't know if it's possible, how adoption will work for two men, but he'll look into it. They'll figure it out when the time comes.
"Okay, three more months," Steve agrees.
"I love you, Steve. I'm sorry I took this assignment. I didn't know it'd be so hard. I thought it would be an easy way to move up the ladder a little without going to college. But it wasn't. This was a big mistake. I'm exhausted. I sleep like shit without you."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going to Robin's last month. I did it on purpose. I was being an asshole."
"I'm sorry I showed up like a jealous boyfriend. To be fair, I was a jealous boyfriend," Eddie kind of laughs.
"Jealous of what?" Steve asks, meeting Eddie's eyes.
"Nancy. I thought," Eddie says, and shakes his head, "I got scared."
"Eddie. I'd never," Steve says, cupping Eddie's cheek.
"I know. It was irrational."
"She was with her boyfriend, in case you missed that," Steve teases.
"I did see that as you were dragging me to bed," Eddie laughs.
"I will never cheat on you. If for some reason this isn't working anymore, we'll talk about that. But I won't cheat. We promised each other that, years ago. Just you and me."
Eddie nods, "You and me."
"I'm sorry I picked a fight the second you got home. I was being a baby."
"I'm sorry I made you feel like I was only here to fuck you. That's not true. You know that's not true, right?"
"I know. I do know that. But if I ask nicely will you still put your dick in me?" Steve asks, suppressing a grin.
"I suppose I can do that," Eddie agrees, "but just sit with me here a little while longer."
Steve nods, lacing his fingers with Eddie's.
"I don't want us to fuck this up," Steve finally says, “we’ve sure been trying the last couple years. I don’t want to keep doing that.”
"Me either. I plan to be with you until I die," Eddie admits.
"Hold up. I don't think I agreed to you dying first," Steve teases.
"Too bad, I called dibs, Harrington."
Steve shakes his head, at least that's not something they need to worry about today. Steve's only twenty-four years old. They'll hopefully have lots of time to argue about who gets to die first.
Steve leans over and kisses him. It gets desperate, fast.
Before long, Eddie is helping him up to his feet and leading Steve back to their own bedroom.
Eddie pushes Steve onto his back, touches his face gently, "Don't do that again."
"Fight with you? Sorry, I guarantee we're going to fight again."
Eddie shakes his head, "Don't roll over for me. That felt bad, Steve. Like you thought I wanted to hurt you. Use you. I'd never want that."
"I know, I was being an asshole. I'm sorry, Eddie. I've made this year harder on you, instead of easier. I'm a shitty boyfriend."
"You're not shitty. This situation is shitty. But you? No way."
Steve kisses him, then asks, "Are we okay? Are we going to make it?"
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve's hair, pushing it up and off his forehead, "Yes. We're going to make it. I promise."
After, Steve holds Eddie, "Sleep. I've got you."
Steve cries after Eddie leaves. Three more months seems insurmountable.
1992
Eddie is home, fucking finally, and already on the roof, permanently fixing the spot that kept leaking into the bedroom. He's replacing the cobbled together bandaid he'd put up there until he had more time to fix it right, just like he promised. Steve watches from the ground, holding the huge ladder, nervous that Eddie's up there. It's so high up, and steep.
"Be careful!" Steve hollers, like that will prevent Eddie from falling to his death.
But he's so happy to have Eddie home, even if Eddie brought a stray cat home with him. Eddie had found what he'd described as a sad, pitiful gray cat near his temporary housing, and called and told Steve all about it. After hearing him tell this long, drawn out tale of woe, Steve had simply asked, "We have a cat now, don't we?"
They have a cat, Church, named after the one from Pet Sematary, which Steve thinks is just asking for trouble.
This time Steve was the one that jumped Eddie the second after Eddie got home and got Church situated in the guest room, to help him acclimate to his new home.
Steve pushed Eddie into a seated position on the couch, unbuckling Eddie's belt, "Yes?" Steve questions, wanting Eddie's permission, his consent.
"Fuck yes," Eddie answers.
Steve pulls out the plug he was wearing, waiting on Eddie to get home, and tosses it on the newspaper on the coffee table.
"Gross, Harrington," Eddie laughs, but isn't laughing when Steve straddles him and sinks down.
“Fuck, yes,” Steve groans, tilting his head back, “I was waiting for you,” Steve says, “I’ll always wait for you.”
Eddie tightens his arms around Steve, pulling him closer to his chest.
He rides Eddie until Eddie grabs his hips, trying to slow him down, "Condom? I'm not going to last long."
"In me," Steve says, not slowing a single stroke. They don't have anywhere to be, and he wants to feel Eddie, all of him.
Eddie follows his orders and comes in him, hugging Steve's body to his, tight.
Steve won't get off him, stays there until Eddie's long gone soft.
"You're never leaving me again," Steve tells him.
Eddie nods in agreement, "Never."
2023
If 1991 was a bad year, 1992 was a great one. They fell in love all over again. It made them face head on that this was what they wanted, forever. And they'd have to make it work, no matter what.
Eddie never took a long term assignment again. He'd spend a week or two helping out other places, loaning them his expertise. But never for more than a week or two.
He enrolled in night classes. Eddie wanted to keep advancing up the ladder, always wanted to learn and do more, and that was the way to do that.
And after that fight, Eddie found lots of reasons for them to never go to Hawaii, but Steve got the message, loud and clear. We are not giving up on each other. They'd made a deal. No reason to tempt fate by going and taking it off the table.
Steve was still a teenager when they’d gotten together, Eddie just barely not one, so the fact that they had stayed together, had survived the years, was a little amazing. It was hard fought at times. It hadn’t been perfect, nothing ever is, but Steve loves his life. All of it.
It took years and years before Eddie had turned to him one day out of the blue, finally saying, "I think we're ready to go to Hawaii."
Part of Steve had wanted to fight it, but he knew Eddie was right. It wasn't a bandaid over a bullet hole anymore, it was just a place they hadn't been yet.
He’d give anything to be having a fight with Eddie right now, about anything. He’d go back to the early years, when he was fucking stupid and careless with Eddie. They’d had several growing pains in those early years, and mistakes were made. Sometimes he doesn’t know how they survived it, the hubris of youth.
But he'd relive the worst fight in a heartbeat, if it meant Eddie was fine.
1989
Steve is bouncing his leg waiting for the plane to take off. Dustin had called, and said they thought the gate was re-opening at the lake.
Fucking fantastic.
Steve had tried to get in touch with Eddie, called several times, but they kept telling him Eddie was out in the Park, out of radio range.
Steve left a note, apologizing. Saying he loved Eddie and he'd be back as soon as he could.
Robin met him at the airport in Indianapolis.
It was a false alarm. A prank by some jackass that thought they were being funny, that had no idea of the horrors that truly lurked beneath, not that long ago.
Steve had swam down, again. There was nothing there but the bottom of the lake.
He still couldn't get Eddie to answer the phone at home, and thought maybe he'd gotten caught out with some unexpected overtime. It happens sometimes. They always say, don't work for the Park Service unless you're ready, willing and able to work ten or twelve hour days. Eddie has the energy to do twice that, Steve thinks.
It was late, so Steve and Robin crashed at Wayne's. Wayne didn’t even ask all that many questions as to why Steve was soaking wet.
In the middle of the night Steve was woken up by Eddie shaking his shoulder.
"Jesus H. Christ, Steve! What is happening?!"
"Nothing, false alarm."
Eddie looks like he's about to crumple to the floor.
"Hey, it's okay."
"It's not okay, I come home and you're gone and there's a shitty fucking note and I didn't know if I'd ever see you again!"
"What's all the screaming?" Wayne asks, "Eddie, what are you doing here?"
"Trying to prevent Steve from getting killed by fucking monsters!"
"What?" Wayne asks, confused.
Eddie is worked up, he isn't really crying, but he is definitely on the verge.
"Eddie," Steve says, quietly, "it's okay. Everything is fine."
"You can't do things like this! You have to take me into consideration before you run off and play hero."
"Eddie-" Robin tries to interject from the other side of the bed.
"No! You stay out of this! You stop dragging my boyfriend into danger! I hate this fucking town!"
"Hey! Don't you take this out on her! You're mad at me, be mad at me!" Steve screams at him, then adds, "I'm sorry," reaching for him.
"No, don't touch me," Eddie says, turning on heel, shoving past Wayne, leaving the room.
"Steve?" Wayne asks, questioning.
"What we don't talk about, what he can't legally talk about? We thought it was back. It's not. He's safe. We're safe," Steve says as he's crawling out of bed, pulling his jeans and t-shirt on, slipping into his shoes. "I'll talk him down. I messed up, I did. I'm a terrible boyfriend, just leaving like that. But I promised I'd be on the first flight if the kids needed me. They thought they needed me."
"Steve," Wayne says, taking him by the shoulders as he tries to pass by, "you're anything but terrible. You just scared him, it'll be fine."
Steve just shrugs and squeezes by him, to see if he can chase Eddie down. He doesn't have to look far, he's smoking a cigarette on the steps of the back porch.
"Can I sit?" Steve asks and Eddie shrugs, non-committal.
Steve sits, but doesn't try to touch him.
"I'm so sorry, honey. I fucked up."
"You sure did," Eddie answers.
"How can I fix this?" Steve asks, trying to catch Eddie’s eye.
"I don't think you can," Eddie says, refusing to look at him, as he’s blowing out a puff of smoke into the night air, "what's done, is done."
"Eddie."
"Don't pretend you care what I think now, you sure didn't when you ran off."
"I care, but I promised them."
"Glad to know they rank above me in the hierarchy of importance to Steve Harrington."
"You know that's not true."
"Do I? I don't think I know anything right now."
"You know I love you."
"Not sure that's worth a whole lot right now."
Steve makes a noise that he wasn't even sure came from him until he sees Eddie turn and look his way, questioning.
Steve waves his hand in the air, waving him off. But Steve suddenly can't breathe, and he reaches for his throat, trying to dislodge whatever is stuck there, but his hands aren't minding him. He's sweating, and he didn't realize it was so hot out. He's suddenly terrified he's having a heart attack, the impending doom of it all is crushing him.
"Steve?" Eddie asks, voice rising a little, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Wayne!" Eddie yells and Wayne is out the door and crouching down in front of them.
"Steve, look at me," Eddie commands, but Steve just shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. Eddie sounds like he's far away, in a tunnel.
"Sweetheart, you need to calm down, I think you're having a panic attack."
Wayne takes Steve by his hands, "Steve, listen to me, you're okay. Breathe in."
Steve nods, but he doesn't feel okay at all. He breathes in.
"Okay, good, now out," and Steve breathes out.
"What happened?" Wayne asks.
Before anyone can try to explain, Robin enters the fray and squares off with Eddie, "What'd you say to him?"
"Nothing! You think this is my fault?"
"Of course I think this is your fault!"
It's like Steve can hear them arguing in the distance, not right in front of his face.
"I'm okay," he croaks out. He's not okay, but he thinks he can pretend. He tries to stand up, but Wayne tugs on him to force him to stay seated. It's a good idea, he feels like he could pass out.
"Steve, just sit there a minute, son," Wayne says.
Steve nods.
Robin is shoving Eddie across the backyard, one push at a time, Eddie taking it, while she screams at him.
"Robin, stop it!" Steve yells.
Nobody is listening to him, "Wayne, make her stop doing that to him."
"Robin, you leave Eddie alone, right now! Eddie, go get Steve a glass of water."
Steve can see Eddie reluctantly follow Wayne's directions.
As soon as the screen door snaps behind him, Steve starts crying, and Wayne hugs him close.
"It's okay, you're okay," Wayne says, holding the back of his head.
"He's leaving me," Steve cries, and Wayne holds him closer.
"He's not, you know he's not," Wayne assures. "You kids are just tired and scared. Let's not blow this out of proportion."
"He said he was," Steve mumbles and then Steve just lets himself be held. He realizes he'll be losing Wayne, too. And it sends him into another spiral, and he clings to him tighter.
Wayne lets him.
Eddie comes back with the water and Steve pulls away to take it, but just holds it in his hands.
Wayne takes Eddie by the arm and basically drags him away and into the house. He can hear them arguing, but can't make out the words. The glass is cold in his hands.
Robin is hugging him from the side, squeezing him tight.
Then Eddie is kneeling in front of him again, "Steve, I'm not going anywhere, Jesus Christ," Eddie says, and holds his face.
"You said I couldn't fix it," Steve says, "that my love isn't worth anything."
Robin makes a noise of extreme protest and Steve is scared she's going to go at Eddie again. He grips her hand, tight, keeping her seated.
“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie assures.
Steve hyperventilates, and he's embarrassed, but he can't stop it. His love is such bullshit.
Eddie starts crying in front of him, "It's not bullshit. It's the best thing I have in this whole world. I was just mad and scared. I'm mean. I was being mean to you. Jesus, I'm sorry."
Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, clinging to him, "Don't leave me."
"I'm not leaving you. Nothing could make me leave you. Especially not this. Okay? Do you believe that?"
Steve isn't sure he believes it, but he nods. He's so tired. He doesn't want to fight. He wants to sleep.
Eddie helps him to bed, and Steve sleeps for almost twelve hours and when he wakes up, Eddie is sitting up in the bed right next to him. Robin is on his other side.
"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere without you."
Those are his own words, and he starts to cry again as he presses his face into Eddie's hip. He feels exhausted, physically and mentally. Emotionally. He feels like he's been hung out to dry. The closest he’s ever felt to this was in Dallas when he lost Eddie at that fair.
When he wakes up again, Eddie is asleep next to him, fully dressed. But he didn't go anywhere.
2023
That was a terrible night, and it created a wound that took a long time to fully heal.
Robin and Eddie didn't speak to each other for nearly six months. Each of them thought the other was the asshole in the wrong, and refused to apologize until the other did. So they just had a silent standoff with Steve stuck in the middle.
And Steve and Eddie didn't fully trust the other to not be hurtful for the first time, and it was devastating.
They'd spent so long being kind and careful of being good to each other, that it was heartbreaking that one day had leveled it, and scorched the earth under their feet.
They had to choose to either wash their hands of each other, or rebuild from the ground up.
They chose to rebuild.
Wayne had told them that a freshly burned pasture may look barren and desolate, but in fact, the burning makes the soil richer and the new crop will grow faster, and healthier.
Steve took it to heart. He didn't want a charred wasteland of a relationship, but he did want the healthy new growth to shoot up and flourish.
It took Steve a long time to feel safe enough to tell Eddie he loved him again. He did, that was never in question, but it had opened old scars in places he didn't even realize he still had.
Looking back, Steve is pretty sure they all could have probably benefited from extensive therapy. They were traumatized kids and the bandaids they'd all used to get by, and keep going, were never going to hold forever. But therapy was never really talked about, back then. So they just had to fix themselves, and each other, as best they could. They did their best.
Steve ended up with a bleeding ulcer and when he vomited what looked like coffee grounds, Eddie called Robin, frantic, from the pay phone at the emergency room.
Steve really didn't enjoy the ulcer, but he did appreciate that it was all it took for Eddie and Robin to just forgive and forget that they were ever determined to stay mad at each other.
It worked out. It was hard, but they made it through. Steve thinks that the stronger foundation that they had rebuilt, really helped a couple years later when they lived apart. It was hard, and awful, but the bones of their relationship were good. And that made all the difference in the world.
Now, Eddie is in the air, hurt in ways Steve doesn't fully understand, and he can't believe they were ever young enough, and fucking stupid enough to hurt each other so easily.
It's a miracle they ever made it to Hawaii, let alone this far into life together, as foolish as they were when they were young, arrogant and willing to take their relationship for granted.
2009
In Hawaii, Eddie is running along the surf in a pair of black swim trunks. He hardly ever wears shorts in public, so it's funny to see his pale legs on full display. It reminds Steve of that first time in Vegas, next to the pool. These shorts are just much, much longer.
But it's still funny to see, especially in contrast to the numerous black tattoos scattered across his skin.
The General Sherman tattoo, looming large on his back. They planted their very own tree the spring they moved into their house, just like Steve promised they would. Eddie took a picture of it and got the outline of the small sapling tattooed on the back of his ankle, not much more than a stick with the year underneath. On the fifth anniversary of them planting it, he went back and got another one just above it, showing how much their tree had grown in five years. Now every five years, like clockwork, he adds a new tattoo of the continued growth. 1987. 1992. 1997. 2002. 2007. Like their love, it's grown massive over the years.
Over twenty years, and it still feels like yesterday that they were those kids on the road.
Being a smartass, Steve asked what Eddie was going to do if they split up and he was stuck with a bunch of sentimental trees on his body after he’d gotten the one in 2002. He'd expected Eddie to snark at him in return, something like, You planning on leaving me, Harrington? But Eddie took the question seriously, thought for a minute and said he'd just tattoo the next one as dead, the life cycle complete.
Steve never wants to see that.
It doesn’t feel like a concern now, but it could have happened before the 1992 tattoo, when their tree, and their relationship was still growing into itself.
But now the tree is still flourishing, just like they are. They've had to give it a little help from time to time, but just like their relationship, it has always bounced back stronger than before.
They almost lost it in a wildfire. They almost lost the house, too.
2001
The wind had changed the direction of the fire and Eddie was at work trying to deal with the worsening situation and threat to the Park.
Steve knew he was going to have to evacuate, sooner rather than later. Eddie had called and told him to load up Church and get out. Ten minutes.
Eddie had said he'd gotten them a room at a motel in a safe area, and they were holding it for Steve. He just had to get there.
Steve got ready to go, but in a last minute fit of insanity, he called Hopper asking if there was anything he could do before he left. Any sort of Hail Mary he could throw. Hopper asked if the house had a firebreak, or even a yard, anything other than just trees surrounding it. Then he'd said, "I don't know if it's legal there, kid, but if it was my house, this is what I'd do. You still got that flamethrower?"
And Hopper walked him through how to back burn with the flamethrower Steve had put in his arsenal, just in case. Hop had helped him build the weapons cache before they left Hawkins. A trunk full of tools, for any manner of trouble they might stumble across. They hadn't had fire in mind, but Steve will take it on like any other threat.
Steve likes contingency plans. Eddie likes to run, but Steve learned long ago to plant his feet and fight back. He can't just lob a Molotov cocktail at it like it's Vecna, so he runs the perimeter, back burning with the flamethrower, hoping the fire will hit the already burned earth and fizzle out with no more fuel ahead of it.
Eddie calls him at the motel two hours later to make sure he was gone from the house and to tell him to prepare for the worst.
Eddie shows up at the motel in the middle of the night, crawls in bed with Steve, smelling of smoke. He had to scoot Church out of the way and he meowed in protest at the indignity of being relocated.
Eddie had been out helping wrap the buildings in the Park that were in danger in aluminum fireproof blankets. Steve's pretty sure it wasn't Eddie’s job to do things like that anymore, but Eddie wasn't one to sit back and not help where it was needed, anywhere in the Park.
"Did you leave your brand new car at the house and drive the BMW out of there?" Eddie asks, breathing on the back of his neck.
"More trunk space?" Steve offers, which isn't even a good lie. Then admits, "You know I couldn't leave it."
"I know, sweetheart. I wasn't even surprised to see it in the parking lot. I think I was subconsciously looking for it when I got here."
Steve smiles. They finally bought Steve a new car after all these years. He wanted a brand new to the market Prius, but Eddie had said they weren't made for their country roads. Eddie really wanted him to pick one of the brand new Avalanches instead, because he thought it'd be more practical for the woods.
Steve didn't want a pickup or anything pickup adjacent. They already have Eddie's pickup.
So he ended up with a Subaru Outback. Robin called him a lesbian. But it can handle the country roads and will have room if they ever actually manage to have any kids.
Eddie thinks it's ugly and never drives it if he doesn't have to, but as long as it made Steve happy, he was on board.
"I got the important documents file from your desk, the picture album and some clothes. But I think I packed my underwear twice instead of yours, I'm sorry."
Eddie laughs, "I can wear your underwear for a day or two."
"Is the house gone?"
"I don't know," Eddie says, tucking his face in Steve's neck as he hugs him tight, "but, yeah, I think so."
It wasn't.
It had stopped in the yard. Right where Steve had lit the controlled burn on Hopper's advice. Eddie stood there, hand on the side of his face, in disbelief, "What the fuck did you do, Harrington?"
Steve knew Eddie was happy their house didn't burn to the ground, but also furious that Steve had not only lit an illegal fire with a weapon Eddie didn't even know Steve had, and that Steve definitely didn't have a permit to own. But especially that he didn't fucking leave when Eddie had specifically told him to.
Eddie really thought he might get fired if they realized what Steve had done.
Steve knows you can't really have your federal employees being a party to their partner lighting fires near a National Park, but nobody ever said a word when they surveyed the damage.
Just came out, looked around, said, "You sure got lucky, Ed," and went on about their day. They had to know. Eddie knew the minute he saw it that it wasn't natural.
After they'd gone, it had been an awkward trip to the storage shed, where Steve uncovered his whole emergency weapon stash, finally showing it to Eddie. He'd never needed it for anything until yesterday, and hoped he never would again.
"You said this was old sports equipment," Eddie accuses, kicking the edge of the trunk.
Steve picks up the nailbat, "It kind of is, see? Bat."
Eddie hated it, but Steve would rather have it and never use it, than need it, and have nothing to work with.
Hawkins may be all quiet on the western front, but that shit is still out there in the world and Eddie damn well knows it. Just a couple years earlier, he'd been forced to face it, head on.
1999
"Hey, that's the federal agent I talked to at work today," Eddie says, when they pull into the diner parking lot about twenty minutes from their house.
Steve looks at the guys standing next to the big, black boat of a car. He immediately feels sick.
He knows that car. He knows that leather coat and the man in it.
Hell, he knows those kids, they have just grown up a lot since then.
"He is not a federal agent."
Eddie wanted to just pretend, ignore it, but Steve was having none of it. He walked right up to them once they were seated in a booth and cornered them, so they couldn’t escape his questioning.
"You're hunters. What the fuck are you hunting in my neighborhood?"
They'd tried to deny it, but relented after Steve gave details of their previous encounter. Eventually the older man pulled out a leather-bound journal and cross-referenced London, Kentucky and the time frame in 1986.
He slid the book across the table, "This you?"
Steve. 18-24. BMW. Indiana plates. Knows? But not a hunter. Left Bobby's number on windshield.
Steve nodded. Dug in his wallet. The paper was worn and the numbers had nearly faded into non-existence.
“How’d you know my name?” Steve asks.
The man doesn’t remember, assumes Steve must have told him, but Steve is sure he didn’t. It finally occurs to him that Eddie had been screaming for his attention on the walkie. That must be it.
Steve looks at the man, "What had you killed that night? I've wondered for all these years."
He scans his journal, "Werewolf."
"It was a full moon," Steve says, because he can remember it like it was yesterday. "What are you hunting here now?"
They'd been hunting a Chupacabra. Didn't turn out to be one, but that was neither here nor there.
The man asks, "What have you encountered?"
Eddie grabs Steve's forearm, shakes his head, "I signed an NDA."
"Well, I didn't," Steve says, "just no full names, okay?"
The man nods in agreement.
"John," he offers, reaching across to shake Steve's hand.
"Steve," he says, then nods towards Eddie, "Eddie."
"Sam, Dean, my boys."
Steve nods.
Then he starts talking.
"Demogorgans, demodogs, demobats, Vecna," Steve says and John is looking at him like he's crazy.
"I've never heard of any of those, are you sure-"
"The kids named them," Eddie says, "you know that, right?" He's asking Steve.
"No, I didn't ever think about it."
"Demogorgon, Vecna, they're in the D&D campaigns the kids were playing at the time."
"Oh shit, I did know that, I think. I just forgot."
Steve turns and looks towards them, "So, that's just what we called them, I guess, sorry."
"Are you sure these were actually-"
Eddie interrupts, lifting his shirttail to show his faded scars, "Bats."
It's very faint, but in the right light, the scar is still around Steve's neck where he was nearly strangled to death, "Bats."
"Where? When? And can you describe them?"
Steve does. In great detail. And John writes it all down in his journal.
"There was a world under your town?"
"But it was upside down," Steve insists.
“Traveling between them, getting pulled and flipped upside down, was the only fun part about that place, trust me,” Eddie says.
"Can you draw?"
Steve shakes his head no, but Eddie reaches for the journal. Draws a demobat, with its extended weapon of a tail.
“He bit one,” Eddie says, nodding towards Steve, just making conversation as he draws.
“The head off? Like Ozzy?” the older boy asks, a glint in his eye.
“You’re my kind of kid,” Eddie laughs, “not the head, the tail, but yeah, like Ozzy. These were big bats, like small dog sized. But he bit it, then stepped on it and just ripped it in half with his bare hands. Don’t let Mr. Buttoned Up Polo over here fool you, he was a badass.”
“Excuse me, was a badass? Past tense?” Steve asks, goading him.
Eddie rolls his eyes, but has Steve describe the Demogorgon to him in detail, and Steve thinks Eddie gets damn close to what he remembers.
Then Steve has to ask, "Is there anything in Sunnydale, California?" He's always wondered.
"Oh yeah, that's sitting on a Hellmouth," Dean says, "lots of vamps."
Steve nods, that tracks.
Eddie slides the journal back, and Steve hopes he never, ever sees these men again. They're nice enough, but he wants no part of this life, because Eddie wants no part of it.
2001
Surveying the charred yard, Eddie all but screams at him, "You defied me! I told you ten minutes, how long did this take?"
"Defied you? You're not the boss of me!" Steve yells back, incredulous.
"Well, I certainly can't be the boss of you if you're dead!"
"I thought defiance was your thing," Steve says, grabbing Eddie's forearm and pushing his thumb into the tattoo there.
Eddie has a tattoo of a city sign for Defiance. To anyone else, it’s a statement of, well, defiance. To them it’s where they decided to try and make a real go of this love they have for each other. It was new then, untested. But now it's worn in and comfortable.
Eddie shook his hand off, "You could have been killed."
"I'm fine."
"It's just a house! What the fuck would I have done if I came home and you were dead?"
Steve hugs him, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to lose our home. We love it. We've loved each other here."
"Our love isn't tied to this house or to that car. I know why you feel that way, because I feel it, too. I do. But they are just things, Steve. Things we love, but things."
Eddie was mad, scared, but after everyone else left, he took Steve to bed and tried to remind him that their love wasn't tied to anything except each other.
They love this house, but they love each other more, and that would be true anywhere in the world.
1990
Steve is standing on the porch when Eddie pulls in the driveway, finally home from work. Steve waves the legal documents in one hand, and the bottle of champagne in the other.
"It's done?!" Eddie hollers and runs up the steps, hugging Steve.
"Congratulations! We now owe six figures all on our own!" Steve laughs.
Eddie laughs back, "Well, pop open that bottle, Harrington."
"This is to christen the house," and he makes a small bat swinging motion with it.
"It's a house, not a boat," Eddie teases.
"Oh. Well, it can't hurt, right?"
Eddie shrugs, like that's a fair point.
"You do the honors, honey," Steve says, pointing to the pillar of the porch.
Eddie takes the bottle and smacks it against the wooden railing, and it shatters.
"I'll get the broom," Steve offers, "and the good champagne is on the counter."
Steve sweeps up the mess, and when he's finished Eddie is standing there with two glasses. He hands Steve one.
"To our very own debt," Eddie laughs, clinking his glass against Steve's.
"That we'll be paying off well into our middle age," Steve teases, but he smiles. It still needs lots of work, but he's excited to continue building this house into their home.
"We're going to have to start saving our loose change if we're ever going to get to Hawaii," Eddie says and Steve chuckles. That seems very true right now.
They are making ends meet, but Hawaii seems like a pipe dream at the moment.
2009
Steve watches Eddie run on the beach in Hawaii and smiles.
They're older now, settled. Content with their life.
Eddie looks good with his little bit of middle age spread. Looking back Steve feels like Eddie was all elbows and knees and sharp hip bones when they got together. He was still a boy, and now he’s a man. They both are, in their early forties.
Eddie still has the long hair that he now has to keep neatly pulled back at work. But today, here on the beach, it's as wild and loose as it ever was. As Eddie ever was.
Eddie finally catches up, grabbing their little girl from behind, spinning her around to her immense delight. Steve can hear them both laughing, it carrying on the wind. She's the spitting image of Eddie, dark hair blowing in the breeze, big brown eyes that will melt your heart. Face full of freckles, just like Aunt Robin.
Steve watches Eddie get down on his knee in the sand to let her twirl around and Steve doesn't know what he did in this life to be lucky enough to have not just one of them, but both of them. Eddie’s been teaching her to dance, and it is the cutest thing Steve’s ever seen in his entire life. She’s seen them dance all the time, and she loves to watch them do it, and Steve knows that means a lot to Eddie. That he can share something that meant so much to him as a kid with his own child.
Eddie is looking at him from the water's edge.
Steve brings his hand to his chest, in a move he knows Eddie understands, as if Steve's saying, oh my heart. They are both Steve's heart, just walking around outside his chest, and it's all encompassing how much he loves them both.
Eddie winks in response and their daughter screams Daddy in his direction, beckoning him, so Steve jogs down, getting his feet wet as the water laps at his ankles, as he rejoins his family, watching them dance as he reunites with his whole heart.
Dancing is a cornerstone of their love story, and sharing that with Ellie feels amazing.
They went to Gilley's Saloon the last time they were all together in Vegas for Mike's second wedding. Not one of them was dressed appropriately for a country bar. Steve had taught them all to dance over the years at various times, and they thought it'd be fun to see what they remembered when they spotted the bar after going to the pirate ship show.
2007
“Steve Harrington, those girls are young enough to be your daughter,” Eddie chides, nudging Steve with his elbow.
Steve’s watching the Gilley Girls dance. In their fringed black, assless chaps and bikinis.
“Our daughter is two,” Steve answers, not looking at Eddie.
“Yeah, because we had her when we were old,” Eddie says, “some of those girls could absolutely be our daughter if we had her young. Either way, they are somebody’s daughter, and you’re being a dirty old man.”
“I’m watching them dance, not trying to fuck them. And I'm forty! Not ninety-five!” Steve argues, but he looks away from the dancers and at Eddie instead, “You come dance with me then.”
“Absolutely not, Harrington. That’s my little secret.”
“Fine, be an old stick in the mud.”
Vegas had changed so much since their first time here in 1986. They had changed so much, too.
So, without Eddie, Steve had shown off his moves, dancing with Robin and Nancy. Max, El, Erica, Holly. Joyce. Mrs. Wheeler. Dustin's wife, Meg. Any of them that wanted a turn, he was game.
The group of them trying to jump in and learn the line dance to Copperhead Road and doing Cotton Eye Joe and just having a blast.
Eddie just sat at the bar, not willing to participate. He'd never shown any of the rest of them what he could do, and Steve had never told them that's where he learned. He'd stuck to the roadhouse story from the road trip. Not a lie, but that girl definitely hadn't been the one to really teach him to dance. Eddie had.
Steve crooked his finger at Eddie, trying to beckon him one more time and Eddie shook his head no.
So Steve gave him a big thumbs down and cupped his mouth and gave him a silent boo, but he got it. If Eddie wanted it to just be just theirs, he wouldn't begrudge him that. So he'd just grabbed Robin again. Two-stepping her around the crowded dance floor, her stepping on his feet half the time, until she tapped out.
Then a stranger had asked if he'd dance with her, so Steve danced with her, too. And then another. And another.
Islands in the Stream comes on, and somehow Steve is still surprised when Eddie taps him on the shoulder. He thanks the woman he was dancing with and turns into Eddie's arms, going from leading to being led.
Getting really close to Eddie's body, Eddie's leg between his, moving together in a slow, close two-step with practiced ease. It's immediately sexual in a way dancing with all the women wasn't.
"You trying to make me jealous, Harrington?" Eddie asks, right next to Steve's ear, "Dancing to our song with someone else."
"Oh, now this is our song, huh?" Steve teases.
"You know it is."
"And you damn well know you've got nothing to worry about," Steve answers, grinning into Eddie's hair.
They dance with each other, not giving a flying fuck what anyone else thinks. Like Uncle Wayne has always said, if anyone has a problem, that's on them.
"Good. I can't lose my baby mama, now," Eddie teases him
Steve just smiles at him. They have a baby at home. Well, in the motel room with Uncle Wayne. They almost didn't come to the wedding weekend, but Uncle Wayne had flown into Vegas and met them so they would. Swore he could watch her for a couple hours, here and there.
The song changed to something faster.
"You ready, sweetheart?" Eddie asks.
"Always," Steve answers.
And Eddie smiled, wide and dangerous, and just went all in. Spinning Steve out, showing off. Steve kept up. After years of practice, he always did.
Their friends all hooted with delight, they had no idea Eddie could dance. It had been his best kept secret.
Then their friends basically lined up to dance with Eddie, pushing Steve aside. He was old news, now. He was used to that treatment from the little dipshits.
Steve headed to the bar to watch, but one of the same women from before still wanted to dance with him, "Your boyfriend?" she asks, as he leads her around the floor.
Steve smiles, "Of twenty years."
"Wow, high school?"
"Pretty close," he answers.
They both watch Eddie lead Robin right by them, and she says, "He's good."
"Oh, and he knows it," Steve laughs with affection.
"You were good together out there, my brother and his boyfriend can't dance. At all."
Steve laughs, "Thanks, he taught me everything I know. I had two left feet before he came along."
"They just adopted a baby, so their bar days are non-existent."
"I get that. We have an almost three year old little girl. We're in town for a family wedding, so grandpa just stayed with her in the room tonight."
2009
Back on the beach in Hawaii, Steve hears their baby scream Daddy, but she's not talking to him, that's Eddie's inflection.
When she was learning to talk, Eddie tried to get her to call him Daddy E (Daddy S was never gonna happen, S's are just too hard) and it just turned into more like Daddeeee. So they are both Daddy. They just have to be paying attention to who she's calling for when she yells.
Eddie got a tattoo of the soundwave of her saying I love you, Daddy on his chest. Eddie doesn't have many regrets, says he has no time for them. But he says while he doesn't regret any of his tattoos, not even the ones he got as a teenager, he has told Steve on multiple occasions that he wishes he would have saved the precious real estate over his heart for something more meaningful. The demon and spider are part of him, but there are other things he'd rather keep close these days.
He'd wanted to get a soundwave of Steve telling him he loved him right below hers on his chest, but Steve thought it would dilute the importance of their daughter's words and refused to record it. He’d pressed his fingers into the little version of him on Eddie's back, telling him he's already represented.
So Eddie, in true Eddie fashion, bided his time and then one day left Steve about ten voicemails, acting like he was telling him an important story that kept getting cut off, only for it to go absolutely nowhere in the end. Steve had called back, leaving a return voicemail, laughing before telling him, "You're an asshole."
Eddie took it and got it on his ass. Steve couldn't even be mad. It was too funny, too weird, too literal and just too Eddie.
Eddie had admitted that having a tattoo of the soundwave of Steve's laugh, his real laugh, was way better than any I love you could ever be. Eddie said he'd earned that laugh, the love he was given for free.
He's not wrong.
He loves Eddie and he loves their girl.
2023
That they have her is a miracle. A gift. The best gift. They'd had a couple of devastating almosts over the years. But after the third adoption fell through, that time after they had taken the baby boy who wasn’t meant to be theirs after all home, Steve had called it. They were done. No more. He was happy with Eddie, loved Eddie, he didn't need to chase more. Couldn't, wouldn't, go through that again. Three strikes and he was definitely out.
Giving the baby back after a week was hell, and if a birth mother took them back after the entire thirty days allowed by California law, Steve knew he would never recover. He had been thirty-six; it was over. He started tearing down the nursery that weekend, packing it away to donate. Or give to Dustin. Anything. He just needed it out of his house.
It had sent Eddie into a spiral of self-flagellation. If he hadn't come along and messed up Steve's whole life, he'd have his six kids by now, etcetera, etcetera.
It had broken Steve's heart. He didn't want six hypothetical kids. He wanted Eddie, a family with Eddie, and if that was just the two of them, he'd never have regrets. But Eddie was beating himself up, trying to fall on his sword once again, and Steve had struggled to get through to him.
He got scared he'd wake up one morning and Eddie would just be gone. Scared he'd run.
Steve called Uncle Wayne and cried. Wayne had flown out and stayed a week, helping them pick up the pieces. Patched them back together. Wayne hadn't ever flown, other than his trips to and from Vietnam. But he didn't hesitate when he was clearly needed. Dustin had helped him with all the logistics.
Steve has never, not once, regretted his life with Eddie. Not even on their worst days would he have traded any of their time together. He didn't choose to fall in love with Eddie, but he's chosen to keep loving him day after day, year after year, since.
He wasn't always sure their relationship was going to survive, in those early years, but he's so grateful it did. He didn't think he needed children for his life to be complete. He wanted them, but he thought he didn't need them, and he had made peace with that.
Of course, once they had Ellie, he was singing another tune.
But before, he just knew he needed Eddie. He’s known that for decades, but today, he feels it heavy on his chest.
He needs Eddie to be okay more than he's ever needed anything in his life.
2003
Steve rocks the brand new baby in his arms, and he can feel everyone's eyes on him, like they're just waiting for him to crack. Dustin and Meg's little boy is beautiful.
Steve doesn't cry, but Robin does, rushing out of the living room, embarrassed, Eddie on her heels.
"He's beautiful, guys," Steve says, smiling at Dustin and Meg.
Steve's okay. He's made peace with it. Walking Eddie back from the ledge had put it into perspective that he hasn't lost everything. They won't have kids, but they'll have each other.
And that is all he needs to live a damn good life.
2023
But Robin had stepped in, made her offer, and Steve had fought her on it. He wasn't using his best friend as an incubator, thank you very much.
Eddie was on board, and so easily, that Steve accused him of asking Robin to do this for them. Eddie hadn't. But Steve was still scared it would be too weird, too hard, even if it was Robin's idea.
He thought they were all too old. He didn't want Eddie to feel left out, feel abandoned, feel jealous, feel like this was something they were doing without him. He didn’t want Robin to regret it, to struggle with it in any way. He couldn’t risk losing her, hurting her. Nothing was worth that.
But Robin wouldn't listen, just kept harassing him, telling him her eggs weren't getting any younger or more plentiful. Moving on to threatening to just sleep with Eddie to make it happen the old fashioned way if Steve was going to be a big dingus.
Steve had laughed at that, cackled really, "Yeah, okay. You two do that. Let me know how it goes. I can draw you both a diagram of what goes where, if you need it."
They obviously weren't going to do that, but it did give Steve the idea that he thought could maybe make this work. So he reluctantly agreed to consider it, but only if Eddie was the biological dad. Robin didn't care about that, was doing this for the both of them, so however they wanted it to go, was fine by her.
Eddie argued, but Steve won, in the end. He couldn't imagine anything better than a kid genetically half of each of the people he loves most in the world. He has not drawn the short straw here. He won the fucking lottery.
Robin is the best friend Steve's ever had, and he'll never be able to repay her. She told him up front that this was not a business transaction. She was doing it for love. For her love of them, and for the love she knew they had to give to a kid they desperately wanted. So they just needed to get on board.
At first, they discussed finding an egg donor instead, but Robin really wanted this to be their sure thing. If it took, it took and then nobody could take anything away from them ever again. She was the only obstacle and she was sure of herself.
And since it was just between the three of them, they did it at home. Maybe not the most effective method, but the one they were all willing to try first.
The first time they tried, Robin had yelled through the bedroom door, "This feels weird! I have Eddie's semen inside of me!"
Steve had laughed on the other side, yelling back, "I know, right?! Welcome to my world, Buckley!" she yelled gross back, and he laughed again. He loves her. But she wasn't wrong. It had taken him a long time to get used to the feeling and he had love and sexual attraction on his side.
After she was done, he'd laid next to her on the bed, her legs propped up. Trying to use gravity in their favor. Eddie hovering in the doorway.
It took them a few months, but they were finally successful. Robin waved the positive pregnancy test in the air and the first thing Eddie said was, "Shit. Now, I'll have to quit smoking for real."
But Eddie hugged her tight and said thank you over and over into her ear. He'd quit smoking several times over the years, but always picked it back up again. Every time they were adopting, he'd quit. Every time it fell through, he'd start again.
Now, he hasn't had a cigarette in almost twenty years.
Eddie called Uncle Wayne and told him he got a girl pregnant, which surely had to be Wayne’s greatest fear when he was a teen and Wayne had laughed his ass off at that idea. He joked, but Eddie had teared up, getting to tell Wayne it had worked. They were going to be dads.
The last month of the pregnancy, Steve moved in with Robin, with Eddie driving in on the weekends.
Robin had told him it was like looking into a fun house mirror, like this could have been their life, if things had just been a little different. If she’d been born liking boys.
Neither would change anything, not for a second. But yeah, in every version of the universe, Steve is sure he’s loving Robin in one way or another.
Steve would lay next to Robin in bed and talk to their baby, who Eddie was so sure was a girl.
Robin may not have wanted a business transaction, but there were still legal hurdles to clear and hoops to jump through to get Steve to legally have parental rights and to waive Robin's. They figured it out.
Meg, Dustin's wife, is a lawyer. Not family law, but she made a good recommendation and got them the help they needed to get a pre-birth order in place. They weren’t married at the time, but they'd had a legal domestic partnership for years, so it made the process a little simpler.
1999
Eddie is reading the newspaper as he eats breakfast, sitting at the kitchen counter.
"We going to do the domestic partnership thing? It passed."
"I'm not even sure what that means," Steve admits, flipping his eggs with practiced ease.
"It's not marriage, but we'll have more rights if one of us gets hurt or sick and I can put you on my health insurance," Eddie says.
"We should do that then," Steve answers. Eddie has good benefits and if anything ever happens to Steve, he definitely wants Eddie calling the shots, not his parents.
"I think so, too," Eddie agrees.
Steve's been committed to him for years, this just seems like a formality. He has always loved Eddie, and wants to be with him forever, even when he's wanted to wring his neck.
2007
"I sent you an email with the link!" Steve shouts into the phone. Eddie was supposed to digitally sign the paperwork and send it back by close of day, today.
He didn't. And now Steve will have to call the state on Monday and beg them to take it late. He feels sick. Rationally, he knows they can't take Ellie away from him, but it feels a little like they are trying to do just that.
The state had found a paper in Ellie's file during an audit that hadn't been signed by Eddie. So either he needed to sign it, or they were going to re-issue her a corrected birth certificate, and as collateral damage, it would remove Steve. And maybe add Robin back? Jesus, he didn't consider that. This might be a bigger mess than he'd realized.
"You know I don't open links from you anymore," Eddie says, breezily. Like he is completely oblivious to how important this was.
"Eddie!"
"You lost that privilege. One too many Rickrolls, Harrington."
"This was important. You knew I was sending this, you were expecting it," Steve says and he's getting mad.
"Constant vigilance, Harrington."
"I'm done with this conversation," Steve says, and he is. He's done. It's been a day. A week. Eddie's been gone to a conference for three days and it has felt like ten.
Ellie starts screaming again, and he heads to her room.
Church follows, meowing loudly at Steve, like he's mad at him for not taking good enough care of her.
"Jesus, what's wrong with her?" Eddie asks, "Is that Church, too? What is going on there?"
"I told you she has an ear infection! It's been like this for two days!" She's sitting there in her bed screaming, reverting back to her baby sign language. Hurt. Ear. All done. All done. All done. It breaks his heart and he picks her up, trying to soothe her.
"I didn't know you were in the weeds," Eddie says, voice soft. Then asks, "Isn't she a little old to be screaming like she can't tell you what's wrong?"
"You're not helping. She is telling me. We're all fine. I gotta go."
"Steve-"
"No. We'll talk about this when you get home. We'll figure it out, or we won't, whatever," Steve says, then can't hold his tongue, "I need to go take care of your daughter."
And he hangs up the phone.
He knew it was mean, the second it rolled off his tongue. He'll be her dad, no matter what the birth certificate says. He knows Eddie didn't do this to take that away from him, even if it feels a little bit that way right now.
Ellie is screaming in his ear, clearly suffering while Church is stomping around at his feet. He's going to have to call the pediatrician again. The phone rings in his hand, but he doesn't have time to have this fight right now.
"I don't have time, Eddie. I need to call her doctor. We'll fight about it later," and he moves to hang up the phone again so he has both hands free.
But Eddie hollers, "Steve! Wait, sweetheart, I signed it. I did. I was just teasing you."
"For fuck's sake, Eddie. Not cool."
"I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done it if I knew you were already overwhelmed, I promise."
"It's fine," it isn't fine, but he doesn't have the energy to argue about it right now. Ellie is trying to bat the phone out of his hand, wanting his full attention.
"I'm coming home, I'll skip the last two days."
"Don't do that. We're fine."
"She's your daughter, Steve."
"You think I don't know that? I was just mad at you!"
"Fair enough. I'm sorry."
"I know. I'll see you Friday night."
"Okay. I love and miss you guys."
"We love you, too, Eddie."
Three days later while he's on the phone with Eddie as he's sitting at the gate in the airport, Steve tells him he's sending him a link to the amended birth certificate for him to check over.
When Eddie clicks it, it's just Rick Astley. But Eddie had that coming.
When Eddie walks in the front door, he drops his bag and looks at Steve standing there, hands on his hips.
"Is she okay?"
"Yes, the antibiotics have finally kicked in."
"How do I make this up to you? Blow job?"
Steve laughs, "Pass. You can give her ear drops the rest of the time, she hates them."
"Deal," Eddie agrees easily.
"Sucker," Steve laughs, "better watch out for Church when you do it, he bites."
"He didn't bite you!"
Steve just laughs, "Watch Ellie, I'm taking a much needed shower."
Eddie’s face falls a little, and he’s standing there looking unsure, but Steve walks over and brushes a kiss against Eddie's lips, "I'm glad you're home."
When Steve gets out of the shower, Ellie is asleep, Church is asleep and Eddie is almost asleep, sitting up beside her bed, holding her little hand.
"I missed you guys," Eddie tells him.
"We missed you, too. Let's go to bed," and he pulls Eddie up to his feet.
"Let me rinse the plane off first," Eddie says.
"I'm sorry. I fucked that up big time. She's our baby. I didn't not sign that on purpose. I'm just an idiot."
"I know it was an accident, Eddie," Steve says, throwing his arm over Eddie's waist, “the lawyer should have caught it. The state should have caught it. It just slipped through the cracks.”
"Don't leave me, Harrington," Eddie says.
Steve laughs against Eddie's neck, "Well, that's a little dramatic."
"I feel really sick, like I did something unfixable here."
"Eddie. You didn’t. Did you add unnecessary shit to an already shit day? Absolutely, but it’s been over twenty years. I’m used to that by now,” Steve smiles into Eddie’s hair, “you know I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
"I still feel guilty. It's awful. I was awful," he says and Steve is worried he's going to cry.
"Honey. We're fine, I promise. It's going to be just fine."
Eddie nods, rolls in Steve’s arms, reaching down and cupping him through his underwear, “Can I?”
Steve nods, rolling onto his back and lifting his hips up so Eddie can tug them down. Eddie situates himself between Steve’s thighs, paying extra attention to the small tattoo right above Steve’s pubic hair. Steve’s still not a tattoo guy for himself, but before last Christmas he’d found the list they’d made all those years ago when they were trying to pick a place to move. He took Eddie’s little devil heart, the one he’d quickly drawn twenty years earlier just playing with Steve, to Eddie’s tattoo artist and had him tattoo it where only Eddie and him would see it.
Eddie had gone wild when he showed him it for the first time.
He’s going wild now, running his tongue over it, teasing Steve.
Eddie had reciprocated by getting the little heart Steve had drawn on the same list in the exact same place, just on the opposite side. So, if they lay on top of each other, their hearts line up.
Steve loves him, can’t imagine his life without him.
2023
Steve still can’t get ahold of Ellie. He calls Robin back.
"I still haven’t gotten a hold of Ellie. Have you found her?" Steve asks.
“I’m in her dorm room,” Robin answers, putting him on speakerphone, “I’m packing her a bag. Her suitemate says she should be home from class any minute now. I bought us plane tickets already. Hang on, we're coming," Robin tells him.
Steve hears a door slam shut in the distance, and muffled voices in the background, “Your mom is in there ransacking your room.”
“Mom? I don’t have a mom, I’ve told you a hundred goddamn times that I have two dads! You've met them!"
Ellie sounds annoyed. Honestly, she sounds like him. Steve has to swallow and really focus to not start crying. She looks like Eddie, like Robin, but sometimes what comes out of her mouth is all Steve.
“Sorry, she looks just like you, so I just assumed she was your mom.”
“She’s here, Steve,” Robin says, picking the phone back up and taking him off speakerphone.
"Ellie, it's me!" Robin hollers.
“Aunt Robin, what are you doing?” Ellie asks.
“Ells, here’s your dad.”
He tells her everything he knows, and he knows it’s not much.
"Daddy?" Ellie cries, and Steve's heart breaks even more. He hates that he hadn't been able to get a hold of her sooner, but she’d been in class, her phone on silent.
"I'm not there yet, I don't know anything more. I'm sorry. He'll be okay," he says, and he has no idea if that's true, but he's not going to scare their baby before she boards a cross-country flight. "He's tougher than shit, Ells. You know that."
He cannot possibly fathom having to tell her Eddie's gone. Eddie's her favorite person on earth, they have that in common, and he doesn't want either of them to lose him.
He's not ready. He'll never be ready.
1998
Dustin is getting married and they were both asked to be groomsmen. Steve's trying to finish getting Eddie dressed in the motel room, but he has been pulling at the collar of his dress shirt since he put it on.
"Honey, please," Steve says, trying to tie Eddie's bow tie for him, standing on his tiptoes behind Eddie, reaching around so he can do it without tying it backwards.
"I feel like I'm choking."
"I know. As soon as we're done you can take it off, okay?"
Eddie nods, meeting Steve's eyes in the mirror.
"Are you gonna marry me, if we can ever do that?"
"Is that a proposal?" Steve asks, smiling at him in the mirror.
"It'd be kind of a shitty one, huh?" Eddie teases, "Sorry. I was just thinking out loud."
"Yes, I'll marry you the second it becomes an option for us."
Eddie smiles wider, "I'll hold you to that."
"Deal," Steve says.
It is something to look forward to, hope for. Their second try at adoption collapsed recently, and the grief is still palpable.
Steve's not sure he can try again.
2008
They decided to get married in the short interim window it is currently legal, before Prop 8 hits the ballot in the fall. They just made a courthouse appointment in San Francisco, and drove down to spend one last weekend at Robin's. She had called Steve a couple weeks ago, telling him that she had been headhunted for a great job in New York City. She didn't want to leave him, and Steve didn't want her to go, but she had supported them moving away from Hawkins when that was what was best for them. This was going to be great for her, so he told her to go. They can both hop on a plane any time they want, even if they've somehow picked cities on exact opposite coasts from each other, crossing the entirety of the contiguous United States.
They definitely wanted to get married before she goes, but only told Uncle Wayne, Robin, Nancy and Dustin. They didn’t want to make a fuss, since they weren’t sure it would even stay legal, but they wanted to at least try, while they could and she was still here.
They'd let Ellie pick out a frilly dress, that she now keeps spinning around and around in Robin's rapidly emptying living room as they pack all Robin's stuff into boxes. They'll take home and store all the stuff she wants to keep, but doesn't want to drag across the country with her.
Dustin took it upon himself and called everybody, and anyone that could get there, did. It was handy that so many of them had ended up on the West Coast, because the courtroom was full of so many of the people they loved most while Steve married Eddie.
Steve really struggled to not cry when Joyce and Hopper walked in with Wayne. He didn't need his parents here, and they were out of country, as usual, anyway. But he didn't realize how much he wanted Joyce and Hopper to be here until they were standing in front of him.
They watched Nancy flirt with Jonathan, reconnecting for the first time since both of them had gotten divorced from their first spouses.
Jonathan took their wedding pictures, and their favorite one was when he got them both to laugh by saying, "At least you're not naked this time, Steve."
They both cracked up, thinking of that stupid picture Eddie loves so much, and it allowed Jonathan to snap the picture that hangs in their living room, above the fireplace.
1995
"I'm sorry in advance for what I'm about to ask you to do," Steve says.
"Oh god, what do you want?" Jonathan asks.
"Do you think you can find a bearskin rug? A brown one, not a polar bear."
"Uh, why?"
"Have you ever seen that famous picture of Burt Reynolds?"
"No, no, no, Steve. No."
"Please? Eddie's turning thirty, and it's bad enough asking you to see me like this. You want me to ask a stranger? Do you want me to go to the Sears Portrait Studio?"
"I hate you."
"I'm okay with that if you still say yes."
"Let me reach out and see if anyone has a rug I can borrow or rent."
"Thank you! I'll owe you one!"
“You’ll owe me way more than one for this, Harrington.”
1996
Steve is nervous when he hands over the wrapped package, "Happy birthday, honey."
Eddie unwraps it and then can't tear his eyes away from it.
"Holy shit, Steve. This is why you grew that mustache last fall!"
"I'm embarrassed," Steve admits, hiding his face in his hands.
"Oh my god, this is all I've ever wanted. Wait, who took this? This was taken in front of our fireplace!"
Steve mumbles, "Jonathan."
"Jonathan Byers saw you naked?" Eddie asks, laughing with delight.
"I mean, I tried to not flash him, but, like, I was naked. Robin was here, too. She says I need to pay for her therapy bills."
Eddie laughs louder.
"Can I hang this in our bedroom?"
"I wish you wouldn't," Steve grumbles, "but do what you must."
"I could put it on my desk at work."
Steve laughs at that, "Sure, that sounds like a good idea. Oh, that's my roommate. He thinks he's funny."
Eddie looks at Steve, "I've never told them you're my roommate. Why do you think that?"
"At a holiday party, years ago, one of your bosses was, like, oh you're Eddie’s roommate and I figured that was that."
"Sweetheart, they definitely know at work. I don't, like, flaunt it. But I'm not in the closet. My department for sure knows you are my partner."
"You weren't scared you'd get fired? You're the one that explained the Lavender Scare to me."
"I was a little nervous, but I wasn’t going to hide you to keep my job, to keep any job. Not worth it. If they want to conveniently forget they know, and pretend you're just the Bert to my Ernie, then that's their choice."
"I thought Bert and Ernie are gay?"
Eddie shrugs, "Okay, maybe that's a bad analogy. The Felix to my Oscar?"
"I think I need to be offended that you've made me the uptight, neurotic, unfun one in both of those scenarios," Steve complains.
Eddie laughs, "You're lots of fun."
Steve still gives him a bit of stink eye.
"Is that why you always find an excuse not to go to my work stuff?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, I mean, taking your roommate to all those things would be weird, Eddie."
"Good thing you're not my roommate, then," Eddie says, getting up and hugging Steve close, "I love you. I love the picture."
"There's another one, with the football jersey," Steve reluctantly admits.
And Eddie vibrates with excitement. Steve goes into the bedroom and comes back with it.
His bare ass on display, standing there holding a football in only a custom jersey he had made just for this picture.
"Jesus H. Christ, Steve. Do you still have this jersey? Will you wear it right now?" Eddie is palming his own dick through his jeans and Steve loves that he’s affected him in his way after all these years, even if he was totally embarrassed while he was taking them. Worth it.
"These are a much better gift than a trip to Hawaii," Eddie teases.
Steve giggles and grabs Eddie by the hand, pulling him towards the bedroom.
2009
Steve runs his thumb over his wedding band. They're married. Finally in Hawaii. With their daughter. It all seems too good to be true, and maybe it will be.
They’re still waiting to see if the legal marriage is going to be taken away from them by the California Supreme Court. The emotional marriage, however, the commitment, the state can’t do a goddamn thing about that.
There's never going to be any secrets on how their family came to be. Steve is listed under mother on the birth certificate, since there wasn't any other option, much to Eddie and Robin's delight. It made for a wealth of jokes at his expense. He didn't mind. They've called him a mom since he was a teenager. He's immune to it by now.
Robin, who didn’t want any kids of her own, got pregnant at thirty-five and carried their little girl. Then she just handed her over to them.
When she was born, and the doctor laid her on Robin's chest, Robin had cried, so Steve had cried with her. She looked up at Steve, with this brand new baby on her chest. He didn't know what to do, what to say.
"Steve," she'd said and he crowded closer, squeezed her free hand, worried for a brief second that this was all going to go south, but she went on, "you guys have a baby girl."
Eddie was a bawling mess at her other side.
Robin kissed her on the head and then handed her over to Steve, Eddie hovering over his shoulder, waiting for his turn.
Robin admitted, years later, that she had been a little worried that Ellie would feel like hers, even if she logically knew she wasn't, and if that had been true, she said she'd have taken it to the grave. But she doesn't. Robin loves her, deeply, but she's not her mother. And as they both like to remind him, according to the State of California, Steve Harrington is her mother.
Fun Aunt Robin is in Ellie's life, with the best stories about her daddies when they were young and stupid. And it didn't take Ellie long to figure out Aunt Robin always has the best candy in her bag.
So, they have their baby, a little girl named after Eddie's beloved, late mother, Eleanor. Somehow, it hasn’t been weird at all, it's been an incredible, beautiful, selfless gift.
Steve feels closer to Robin now than he ever has, which seems impossible. But it's true.
So, Steve doesn't have six Harringtons, he has one Munson, and it has exceeded all his wildest dreams.
Steve hears Ellie squeal with delight again, running along the surf, her lei of orchids around her neck, blowing in the breeze. Steve watches as Eddie helps her climb up onto his shoulders and he looks back at Steve, smiling.
Eddie is the best dad. He makes Steve play bad cop a little more than Steve would prefer, but Eddie's been wrapped around her little finger since day one.
If she needs it, he's there. He somehow has infinite patience in his middle age. He had enough seniority at work by the time they had her, that he was able to rearrange his work schedule with the Park Service to start a little bit later in the morning. So, Eddie walks her down to the bus stop before school, at least when the weather is nice enough. They head down the lane, through the trees, and Steve often watches from the porch swing with his cup of coffee until they are out of sight.
He waits for Eddie to come back, alone. Sometimes Eddie's in a rush and Steve doesn't get more than a quick kiss goodbye before Eddie's back down the steps. Other mornings, Eddie sits and drinks coffee with him as they sway together on the swing in the fresh air. Others still, they go inside and take advantage of the empty house and take each other apart with well practiced motions.
Eddie's been a great friend, a great boyfriend, a great partner and now, a great husband. Steve doesn't give a fuck what the California Supreme Court ultimately rules. Eddie is his husband. End of story.
Steve's grateful they had nearly twenty years together to build a rock solid foundation before they became parents. They're older than the average and he's sure he's way more tired now than he'd have been at twenty-eight or thirty-one or thirty-six when their other chances fell through.
But this is how it was meant to be, he knows that with everything he is. They were waiting for this child, for Ellie, and they are the best versions of parents they could be with their relationship being a well-oiled machine. It doesn't need constant maintenance, not anymore.
Steve watches them play and snaps a picture, Papa Wayne will love it for his fridge.
He'll send a copy to Grandma and Grandpa Harrington, too. His parents never really had much to say one way or the other about Eddie, once they finally knew. Steve never, ever lied to them. He never pretended Eddie was his roommate. They just never asked. So he never offered any additional information.
His mother finally did ask, when he was thirty-one years old, and deep in grief. They’d just had their second adoption fall through right before the birth and his mother unwittingly asked when he was going to settle down and have kids and he snapped.
Snapped that he’s been settled for over a decade, she’s just never noticed. Snapped that not everyone just gets a baby that they don’t even want dropped into their laps, like she did.
She had been speechless, and he had just hung up. He had been drained and had no extra energy to expend.
Eddie, who had probably never said ten consecutive words to Steve's mother, had called her back and explained what hornet’s nest she’d inadvertently kicked wide open.
Robin had shown up in the middle of the night. Eddie had clearly called in reinforcements. And when his mother turned up the next afternoon, Eddie and Robin had presented a united front in the yard.
But she passed their test and when she came into the house, she just hugged him as he cried. It didn’t change their relationship all that much, but he could rest easier that they finally knew, and that they didn’t disown him for it. Their relationship went on, as cordial and Waspy and distant as ever.
They were always polite to Eddie, right up until there was a grandbaby in play, and then Eddie suddenly walked on water in their eyes. Steve's glad. He just wants everyone to get along with one another. He doesn’t know why that flipped the switch, but he suspects they felt like Ellie was only really Eddie’s child, just out of ignorance, and that they had to get on his good side to be included. Steve didn’t hold it against them.
Eddie is a little frosty towards them, if you know Eddie as well as Steve knows Eddie, but as far as they can tell, he’s being perfectly nice.
They really aren’t any more hands on as grandparents than they were as parents, but Steve didn’t expect them to be. Ellie has Papa Wayne and Pop Hop and Nana Joyce and she isn’t wanting for love.
He doesn’t know how his parents would have reacted if they’d adopted instead, since it never panned out.
1995
"I really can't listen to this anymore, it's making me angry," Eddie says, turning down the stereo. Steve's been playing Under the Table and Dreaming while he preps the food. They are having all their friends over for the Fourth of July.
"It's making you angry?" Steve asks, not looking up from the hamburgers he's making into patties. He's well versed in Eddie's music complaints. It's been nearly a decade. It's a fight they'll have until one of them dies.
"I'm not doing a bit," Eddie says, grabbing the knife and slicing the tomatoes he'd grown himself in their small garden, "I really feel irrationally mad listening to this. It gives me a headache."
Steve stops and looks up at Eddie, "You're seriously complaining about Dave Matthews Band? With the screaming metal music you listen to? This is what gives you a headache?"
"I don't know why, but it does. It feels ugly to my ears. Too many instruments, seemingly all playing against each other. I don't know. Can we just listen to anything else? Anything."
Steve waves his hand in the general direction of the stereo, giving his consent for Eddie to change it.
Eddie puts on Nirvana.
"You don't like this either," Steve says.
"But you like it. And it doesn't make me mad, so I can deal with that."
"Kurt screaming doesn't give you a headache, but Dave Matthews Band does?"
Eddie shrugs, he wraps his arms around Steve's waist, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Steve answers. He knows Eddie is hurting, too.
The adoption fell through last week and neither of them know what comes next. They have a fully furnished nursery. The birth mother backed out and went with another couple after she went looking into their past and the Hawkins bullshit popped up about Eddie. Steve knows it says he was cleared of all charges, but it still spooked her.
Eddie blames himself. Steve doesn't. Eddie was a victim and he has nothing to apologize for, not to Steve, not to anyone. It just wasn't meant to be with that baby, as far as Steve's concerned. That doesn't mean it hurts any less.
Everyone is sitting outside around the fire pit. Eddie had meticulously measured it before he built it, well aware it needed to be at least twenty-five feet from the house and any other trees or structures.
Dustin has brought his new girlfriend, and Steve can tell this one is different. He thinks this is the one. He should make a bet with Eddie, make some easy money.
Eddie is in an adirondack chair, Nancy sitting on his lap, laying back against his chest. Steve doesn't know how that unholy alliance solidified, but it's been a whole thing for a while. He thinks he now knows how Robin and him must look to outsiders.
Eddie is gently cradling Nancy's big, pregnant belly. Steve has to look away.
"Should I ask for a DNA test to make sure that baby is mine and not your boyfriend's?" Chris, Nancy's husband, asks Steve teasingly.
Steve laughs.
They've all been glued to the O.J. Simpson trial this year, so DNA has been the talk of the summer.
Steve smirks, handing Chris a beer, "I think you're probably safe."
Chris laughs, "I really, truly didn't believe her at first that you were the ex-boyfriend."
"Guilty as charged. Eddie's very gay."
Eddie's stroking his thumb across her stomach absent-mindedly, as he talks to Dustin sitting beside him. Their babies would have been born mere weeks apart.
"I'm sorry about the adoption," Chris offers.
"Thanks. We knew this could happen. We just didn't expect it this late in the pregnancy, though. It caught us off guard. It just sucks."
All their friends have crashed out all over the house, but Steve finds Eddie drunk and sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery. Church curled up on his lap.
Steve crouches down in front of him.
"That wasn't our baby, Eddie. Our baby is still coming."
Eddie rocks forward, disturbing Church who huffs in protest and hops down as Eddie clings to Steve's neck, "I want to be a dad. I want you to be a dad."
"We will be," Steve assures him, "sooner than you think, I bet."
2023
It wasn't soon at all. It took almost a decade longer, but when they found out they were going to have her, Steve left his job managing the pro shop at the local country club. He'd started there on the retail floor and worked his way up. Eddie always said the Harrington charm could sell ice to an Eskimo. Steve doesn't know about that, but he was damn good at selling really expensive golf clubs to the wives of rich men.
The big tips, the phone numbers, the panties that ended up in his pockets, especially in the early years, was absurd. He'd come home and turn out his pockets like a little kid and they'd both sit and comb through the haul. He probably should have felt horribly objectified, but every folded up hundred dollar bill slid into his back pocket helped pay off the house.
And Eddie trusted him. It never would have worked if he hadn't. Steve never once broke that trust. And as far as he knows, and he has no reason to doubt, Eddie's been faithful in return.
There was only one moment of temporary insanity that Steve can even think of, in all the years they've been together.
2002
"Do you want to have a threesome?" Eddie asks and Steve drops the wine glass he was drying, shattering it at his feet.
"Do I want to do what?" he asks, sure he heard Eddie wrong as he bends down to start picking up the big pieces.
"I just thought, maybe you missed having sex with women. It's been fifteen years."
"And you thought we should have a threesome to find out?"
Eddie shrugs, bringing over the broom and dustpan.
"You're going to have sex with a woman?" Steve asks, the idea sounds ludicrous.
"Well, no, I'll have sex with you. And watch."
"You want to watch me have sex with a woman?" Steve thinks this is getting more insane by the second.
"Well, want to, might be a stretch. Willing? For sure. Yes."
Steve laughs, can't help it, "No, thanks. I've got my hands full enough with you."
"We could ask Nancy. She just got divorced, you know."
Steve looks up at him, "Yes, I am aware Nancy is divorced. But we're not having sex with Nancy together. Do you want to have sex with Nancy?"
Eddie makes a face.
"Okay, then. Because I think it sounds like a really bad idea. What's going on with you today?" This has to be about the third, and final as far as Steve's concerned, adoption falling through. Eddie's been off ever since.
"I don't know, it was just an idea," Eddie says, "it doesn't have to be a threesome. I don't have to be there while it happens."
Steve looks at him like he's grown another head. Maybe he's had a stroke. This conversation cannot actually be happening. It’s too weird.
"So you want me to cheat on you? With Nancy?"
"I don't think it's cheating if I know ahead of time and am on board," Eddie offers, like that's a thing they regularly do.
"I'll pass. But thanks for thinking of me, I guess?" Steve says, then adds, "C'mere."
Eddie squats down next to him.
"I love you, honey. I'd change nothing," he assures, leaning over to kiss Eddie.
"Maybe she'd want to have a baby with you," Eddie finally says.
"There it is," Steve says, laughing, "I don't want that, honey, at all. I wanted a baby with you."
"I mean, I'll still be here? I could be a fun bonus dad. Robin said they got a divorce because Nancy wanted another baby and Chris didn't."
"There has to be more to it than just a baby, and you know it. Marriage is way more complicated than that."
They aren't married, but they might as well be, for all a piece of paper matters to them.
"I know. But if she wants a baby and we want a baby…"
"Eddie, I love you. But I don't want to complicate our lives like that. I don't want to purposefully plan to shuffle a kid back and forth between here and Berkley. That doesn't seem fair. And it all sounds like a horribly unnecessary wrench to throw into a relationship that's really good."
"It is really good, isn't it?" Eddie asks, smiling.
"It is," Steve agrees.
"If you change your mind, let me know, yeah?"
"I promise," Steve assures.
2023
By the time Steve left the pro shop, he was managing it, not working for commission on the sales floor any longer. He did the inventory and all the purchase orders. But Eddie made more money and actually loves everything about his work, so it wasn't a hard decision to decide who was going to stay home with her. They live in the middle of nowhere, getting her to and from a sitter every single day sounded like a logistical nightmare. A nanny, out of the question.
Steve had loved his nanny Louisa, but he didn't want his baby to be raised by anyone but the two of them.
Most importantly, Steve wanted to stay home with her, wanted nothing more than to be there day in and day out, hands on. He desperately wanted to be a dad, her dad. Unlike him, she was not a mistake. Or an inconvenience. And since they could afford it, they did just that. Robin overnighted them bags and bags of frozen breast milk on dry ice for the first six months. Steve had told Robin she didn't have to do that. Didn't have to prolong her life revolving around them, that it was okay to take her body back, but she had just scoffed, "That's my niece, she's getting the best."
Steve tried to pay her the going rate per ounce and she brushed him off.
She was proud that, in her own words, she was a milk machine. Robin pumped until they had to buy an additional chest freezer to store it all.
So, Steve stayed home. They figured out their routine and kept it up until she started school. Steve was a lot of things, but a homeschool teacher, he was not.
They hadn't really thought that far ahead when they chose their house, and he feels guilty for the long bus ride Ellie took every day. She seemed to not mind, but living in the middle of nowhere is a little inconvenient at times.
When she was little, Steve picked her up at the bus stop every afternoon, walking the reverse route that Eddie made with her every morning. She'd tell him about her day, in great detail, her little hand in his.
Eddie had gone to college, several years later than average, but to move any further up the ladder at work he had to get some college under his belt. He didn't want to go, and used his two dry runs at senior year as an excuse why he shouldn't, but Steve encouraged him to at least try.
It was lucky that moving up the General Schedule pay scale wasn't dependent on the full degree, and he was bumped up with each year he completed as he went.
It was a rough few years, with his full-time job, and night classes and when they were very lucky, some distance learning courses he could do from home. It was a precursor to online classes and Steve thinks it would have been much easier to juggle today, than it was then.
But they made it work. Many nights Steve would sit quietly on the couch reading, holding Church on his lap, while Eddie studied, just to be near him. Steve's still not a big reader, but during those years he read so many books just so he could be near Eddie without annoying him. He learned early on, that having Steve just sitting there doing nothing unnerved Eddie. Even if Steve didn't mind. So he read.
Steve picked up a side gig giving private golf lessons, which he knew he had no goddamn business teaching, but if the rich women wanted to pay him handsomely to show them the absolute basics of a game he barely played, Steve was more than happy to cash the checks. They had really helped put Eddie through school.
Steve knew very well by then that Eddie is a sponge. He might not have shown that in high school, but he has always been interested in learning if it's on his own terms.
It went well. Eddie has his Masters degree, now, too.
He's still Eddie, still a nerd, still a freak, still the one doing the nightly crossword. Still the punk with the tattoos.
They still have the BMW. It's under a tarp in the garage most of the time, but Eddie's made sure it stayed running. Neither could bear to part with it, and always fixed any issues that cropped up, long after they both had newer vehicles. Several times over.
It's part of their history and every great once in a while they'll still sneak out to the garage and fuck in the back seat like they're still twenty. They always say it's the last time after someone's back is out the next day or one of them gets a Charley horse from hell. They'll agree that they're too old to contort like that, but then they are both dirty liars, because they still end up out there again and again.
Steve thinks there's something sacred in there, and gripping the leather headrest with his hand while he rides Eddie has always been his church.
He always tells Eddie to mark it off the list when they finish, and Eddie used to touch the glass protecting the yellowed list from the road trip they had framed years back when they found it in a box. It's now in the back of the closet, they didn't think Ellie needed to read a list of their sexual exploits.
Eddie’s hair is a little thinner these days, but Steve’s is a lot grayer, so he doesn't have room to talk.
Steve looks down at the gas gauge. He's not going to make it all the way to San Francisco without getting gas, and he hates that he has to stop and slow his arrival down.
He should have listened to Eddie and always kept it topped off, in case of an emergency. Now, he has an emergency and the fuel light just lit up, red. Fuck.
He signals and both of the trucks start doing the same, they are right with him.
"Have you heard anything?" he asks, when he gets out.
He's scared to find out his husband is dead at a gas station along the 101, but if Eddie is, he needs to know.
"They landed with him. He made it to the hospital, Mr. Harrington," and Steve takes a shaky breath.
"Thank you, and you can just call me Steve. Thank you for helping me get there."
"Anything for Eddie. He's the best."
Law enforcement isn't Eddie's division, but he's not surprised that they know him. Eddie feels a bit like a rock star, as far as Steve can tell. They run into people all the time, old people, or young adults who volunteered as teens, and they always seem so happy to see Eddie.
He's made an impact. A true public servant. Hawkins was wrong about Eddie and he wishes they could all see how he turned out. Because he's fucking great.
His phone is ringing, and it’s Ellie’s ringtone, a snippet from Dear Theodosia. It’s been that since she was obsessed with Hamilton when she was eleven years old.
“We’re just about to board the plane, have you heard anything?”
“The Park Service found out he made it to the hospital, so that’s really good.”
"Give him a hug from me. Tell him I'm coming."
"I will."
2016
Eddie spent an eye-watering sum of money on Hamilton tickets for Ellie and him to go to over spring break. For the price of several mortgage payments, Steve was worried he wouldn't be able to hear it well enough to follow along. His hearing isn't great in a crowded room these days. Background noises muffle everything into a mushy mess to his ears.
So, he passed on Hamilton, even though he knows every single lyric of the soundtrack against his will and not hearing it perfectly wouldn't really be a deal breaker. Ellie has listened to it on repeat for months.
Steve was happy to hang out with Robin and her wife, Penny, while Eddie and Ellie went together. She was still living in the city. He hated that she moved away from California, but he only wanted her to be happy. And she seemed in love with New York City.
Robin tells him about a community organizer position out of San Francisco to be an advocate for LGBTQ youth.
"I gave them your name," she tells him, "the pay isn't a lot, but I think you'd be perfect for it."
"Wasn't Obama a community organizer? In what world do I have those same public relations skills? You worked with me a lot, you know how big of a dumbass I am!"
"You're a dingus, not a dumbass. And they're not asking you to be Obama. They'd be asking you to be Steve Harrington," she assures.
He is pretty sure he's not qualified to advocate for anyone about anything.
But he'll think about it, talk to Eddie about it, get his opinion.
They came out to NYC for Pride last summer, and it was incredible. He's so happy Ellie got to experience it, the joy of it, right after gay marriage was legalized on federal level.
Eddie had really changed his stance over the years, especially after they had Ellie, and he was right there with them, flag flying.
They meet up and take Ellie to Keens after the show.
"I fell in love with your Daddy here, just a little bit," Steve tells her, conspiratorially.
"Oh, you did not," Eddie laughs.
Steve smiles at him, he definitely did. He didn't really know it at the time. But looking back, he has always felt like that night was the first night he felt the potential. The first spark of electricity that has lit them up for nearly thirty years.
Ellie is telling him all about the show. He is pretty sure his child has a crush on Thomas Jefferson. Now there's a sentence he never thought he'd think.
Eddie plans to take her to Trinity Church, to see the final resting places of Hamilton, Eliza, Angelica and even Hercules Mulligan. He's watched Eddie try to explain that they weren't exactly like they were portrayed in the musical, that they were real people, and not everything they did was perfect. Especially by a modern measuring stick.
But she's interested, and Eddie will never pass up a chance to give a history lesson.
Eddie has planned a history tour through D.C. and Virginia, so she can see the real places. Steve isn't exactly excited. But he was a jerk in Washington once before, he'll be more gracious this time.
2020
Ellie is thrilled when she's able to show Steve Hamilton when it hits streaming. She sits curled into his side on the couch and it's a great show. He probably should have gone with them. But it's good for them both to do things alone with her, too.
He's taken her to a Lakers game that Eddie had no interest in going to, Robin took her to see both Taylor Swift and Harry Styles because Eddie refused. But Eddie takes her to other concerts all the time. Steve doesn't enjoy them the way he used to, and he's desperately trying to protect his already failing hearing.
Eddie had been worried that he was finally too old to take her to concerts, after he took her to see Post Malone, and all he could tell Steve when they got home was that he thought that was a lot of tattoos to put on your face.
Steve loves Eddie's tattoos, but he is glad he hasn't covered his face in them.
If that makes them old, so be it. They are old and their bodies remind them of that daily.
2021
“Shit, shit,” Eddie says, and Steve leans up on his elbows to look at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“My dick isn’t working,” Eddie says, a little distressed.
“You know that happens sometimes, we aren’t twenty,” Steve says, stroking Eddie’s arm.
“No, it’s really not working. This isn’t a little lackluster, this is non-existent.”
“Well, don’t freak out. That will only make it worse,” Steve says, guiding Eddie over onto his back. “Here, let me.”
Steve fingers Eddie and he is able to give him a nice, rolling prostate orgasm, but Eddie's dick never really gets on board.
Eddie makes a doctor’s appointment two weeks later, when the problem doesn’t seem to be resolving itself.
He ends up with a prescription that seems to have corrected the problem, after a little trial and error.
2022
Wayne is almost eighty, but he is in an ongoing Wordle battle with Eddie that is driving Steve insane. First it was Words With Friends and then there was a stretch of Yahtzee with Buddies. And don't get Steve started on the six months of Candy Crush last decade. If he had to hear that creepy tasty coming from Eddie's phone one more time, he'd have screamed.
Wayne didn't even want a smartphone, but they got him one anyway, now he's constantly going back and forth with Eddie. The paper crossword, gone, long replaced with digital substitutes.
There's a group chat that Steve cannot keep up with, Ellie and Eddie sending gifs and memes back and forth, that half the time Steve doesn't even understand.
At least when they use David Rose gifs, he knows what's happening. They all binge watched Schitt's Creek together last year.
The first time Steve got a reaction gif from Wayne he couldn't believe his eyes. They almost lost Wayne a couple years ago. He had a massive heart attack and they had all flown in, expecting the worst. He pulled through the quadruple bypass and seems better than ever.
Eddie and Ellie had flown back home after the first few scary days, work and school waiting for them, but Steve could work remotely from anywhere, so he had stayed behind in Hawkins until Wayne was back on his feet.
Those weeks, just him and Wayne, were something he'll be eternally grateful for. He missed his husband and his girl, but it was nice to get to know Wayne even better than he already did. They binge watched Yellowstone and learned to cook things that were less fried.
Chuckie, Eddie's dad, had died of a heart attack several years earlier, at only sixty-one. Now, after Wayne, Steve is on Eddie to keep on top of it. They're over fifty. They might not feel it most days, Steve knows he still feels thirty-five more often than not, but Steve will not stand for Eddie dropping dead before him. It's just not happening.
Honestly, fifty-five has been good to him. Sure, he's a little hard of hearing and he's got some arthritis in his joints from all the damage he sustained as a kid, but he really has no complaints. Ellie will graduate in the spring, and while he's not ready for his baby to go, he's happy to see her grow up. She's his little activist. She's always going with her Aunt Robin to protests and events. Eddie and Robin joke that they have no idea how their genes mixed and made a straight kid, finally deciding to blame Steve. Nurture versus Nature. Like he hasn't also been in a queer relationship for thirty-five years.
Eddie and him had made a deal this year, Eddie would finally get the glasses he desperately needed if Steve would see about hearing aids. Steve was pretty sure Eddie was getting the better end of the deal, because nobody sees glasses and automatically thinks you're old.
But Steve got invisible ones and it hasn't been as bad as he'd imagined. He can definitely hear better. He'd lost more of his low tones than he'd realized.
He almost cried when he figured out how much of Eddie's voice he'd been missing without even realizing. He has always loved Eddie's deep timbre, and that he'd lost a lot of the depth of it without even knowing, upset him.
It explained why Ellie and Robin had argued with Eddie all the time that Steve wasn't as hard of hearing as Eddie kept saying he was. He could still hear the tones of their voices so much better. But they'd convince Eddie that Steve was just using selective hearing on him and get him all pissed off. Then they'd fight about it and Steve would promise to do better and then wouldn't do any better, because he couldn't.
He wasn't ignoring Eddie on purpose, he really just couldn't hear him.
Steve sits on the edge of the bed and takes out his hearing aids, putting them in their case. Eddie is folding up his glasses to put on his own end table.
They crawl into bed and Eddie scoots over onto Steve’s side, to kiss him goodnight.
After all these years, their king bed often has a sea of space between them. That’s just life. You get comfortable and you no longer want to be touched all night, every night. But not tonight. Tonight Eddie curls into his side and Steve is happy to hold him close.
“I’m still so in love with you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, right in Steve's ear.
Steve smiles at him in the dark, “I’m still so in love with you, too.”
Thirty-five years and it’s true. It hasn’t always been easy, some years were really, really hard. But the love has never faltered.
Eddie waggles his eyebrows and Steve giggles, as Eddie rolls over on top of him, pinning Steve to the bed.
“Don’t traumatize our child,” Eddie cautions.
It’s still early. She’s not a little kid that goes to bed before dark any longer.
“I can be quiet,” Steve says, offended.
“History says no, but okay.”
Steve laughs, they tell him he's louder in all aspects of life since his hearing started going. He's tried to be quieter, it just doesn't always work out so well.
Eddie reaches over into the nightstand and fumbles around, looking for the lube. Eddie says something to him that he doesn’t catch, because he’s not looking at him.
“What was that?” Steve asks, looking at his mouth.
“I asked if you could see the lube, but I got it,” Eddie laughs, and Steve knows he doesn’t mind repeating himself these days.
Steve giggles, “It’s the blind leading the deaf here tonight.”
Eddie laughs back, “Ain’t that the truth. We’re falling apart at the seams.”
“Not totally,” Steve says, cupping Eddie and giving him a good, hard stroke.
“How do you want to do this?” Eddie asks, and Steve moans as Eddie slides his slick hand into his boxer briefs. They’ve gotten this down to a science.
“How’s the back tonight?” Steve counters.
“Good,” Eddie answers, crawling off of him. He knows exactly what Steve wants, so he gets him ready and moves to sit up, patting his lap.
It’s still Steve’s favorite position, all these years later. They aren’t as young and limber as they were at twenty, but the familiarity and practice more than make up for that.
2010
“I think you’re officially gray, Harrington,” Robin says, reaching up to flip his hair.
“Hey! Rude. There’s a little pepper left,” he argues, but he smiles. He knows she’s right. He’s really gotten a lot grayer since she saw him last.
Eddie’s is still dark, that asshole. But it’s receding, and Steve’s most definitely is not. So there’s that, he supposes. Eddie’s contemplating cutting his short. Ellie is the only one fighting this proposed change. She’s only known him with long hair. Steve has only known him with long hair, too, but if Eddie’s finally ready to shed the security blanket, Steve will adjust.
Eddie swears he's shaving it bald before he looks like Riff Raff from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Steve agrees that's probably a wise choice. He's a long way from there, but it's good to plan ahead, he supposes.
2011
"Holy shit," Steve says, "I had to do a double take to make sure it was you," he adds, reaching up to touch Eddie's short hair.
"Is it bad?"
"No, honey, you're very sexy."
"Really?"
Steve would get onto him for fishing for compliments, but he knows Eddie is actually self-conscious and worried.
And it's been a rough couple weeks. They lost Church and Eddie was heartbroken. They both were, but it was a long time coming. Church was with them almost twenty years, and Steve thinks he survived the last couple years on Eddie's love alone. He died peacefully at home, and Steve buried him out by their tree.
Eddie couldn't do it.
Steve already ordered a little headstone. It might seem like a lot for a cat, but he was a part of their family for nearly two decades. He was there through the hard years, before Ellie.
And he was there when they brought her home from the hospital. Any fears about him not liking her dissipated quickly. Ellie was Church's baby. Steve and Eddie were just permitted to assist him with her due to them having helpful opposable thumbs.
"Are you sure it looks alright?" Eddie asks, still touching the short curls on his head.
"You look ten years younger, people will think I've robbed the cradle."
"Is Ellie going to freak?"
"Maybe, but she'll come around."
Steve finds time to text Robin about this new development as soon as he could.
The next morning, Ellie takes one look at him, and decides it's unacceptable. She starts calling him Eddie. Because her daddy has long hair.
Steve tries not to laugh.
It's not so funny, once he realizes how much it upsets Eddie.
Eddie never lets on to her how much it hurts him, he answers to Eddie and takes his lumps.
Finally, she caves, cracking their bedroom door open in the middle of the night, two weeks into her stand-off.
"Daddy?"
Steve cracks open an eye, but that sounds like it's for Eddie, not him.
"I'm here," Eddie says, and she climbs up to hug him.
"Nightmare?" he asks, smoothing down her wild hair.
She nods.
"Will you rock me?"
She hasn't wanted that in years, but he agrees, lets her wrap her arms around his neck, so he can pick her up.
They don't even have the rocking chair anymore, so he has to rock her in his recliner.
That's where Steve finds them both the next morning, sound asleep.
2023
When Steve runs up the sidewalk towards the emergency room he sees that Dustin is sitting on one of the round benches that encircle potted trees that line the walkway in front of the emergency room entrance. He never even thought to call Dustin. He would be closer coming out of Sacramento.
Robin thought of it, though.
"They won't tell me a goddamn thing!" Dustin screams across the sidewalk as Steve jogs towards him, "I think I got here about the same time he did! There was a helicopter landing when I pulled in! If it was him, he's been here," and Dustin looks at his phone. He's started the stopwatch app, "Two hours and forty-eight minutes."
Dustin is right on his heels as they rush inside.
"My husband is here, he came by helicopter from Redwood National Park. Eddie. Edward Munson. January 24th, 1966. Please."
Steve can't stand the not knowing.
"Does your husband go by Eddie? Do you want me to make note of that in his chart?"
Steve nods, but he doesn't think that really matters right this second. Eddie isn't picky, he'll answer to anything they call him that's in the ballpark. Some of his coworkers call him Ed, which Steve's always found so weird. He's Eddie.
They usher them into a private waiting room, and they sit there for what feels like forever, before some young doctor comes in and starts asking Steve all kinds of questions.
Family medical history, which Steve explains, as best he knows how.
They ask if Eddie's a smoker, drinker, or drug user. Steve answers. Not in almost twenty years, maybe a couple drinks a week at most, and no. Weed, when they were kids. If that counts. It doesn't.
They want to know what prescriptions he's on, and Steve starts to say none, but remembers. Steve looks at Dustin, like he's sorry he has to hear this, "Cialis. For the past year and a half or two."
The intern takes notes.
"Did he see a doctor to get them or did he order them online through some sort of telehealth? There's no wrong answer, I just need the truth, if you know."
"He went to his primary care doctor. Why?"
"Did they do a stress test? Any other testing to get to the root cause?"
"No, no, I'm sure they didn't," Eddie would have bitched for days if they made him get on a treadmill, "Why?"
"It could be unrelated, but that type of problem can be indicative of a heart blockage."
Steve stills, like his brain has stopped to reboot itself, "Wait, what? Did Eddie have a heart attack? I thought he fell."
"Oh, I'm. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you didn't know that."
"Well, is he okay?!" Steve's getting wound up.
Dustin puts his hand on Steve's shoulder, asking, "Is Eddie in surgery? Bypass? Stent? How much longer do you think it'll be?"
The intern is flustered, and flipping through the chart in his hands.
"If you don't know, we need to talk to someone who does. Right now," Dustin says.
The kid nods and scurries out of the room, escaping.
"He'll be fine, Steve. Don't freak out yet."
They are still sitting in the waiting room, waiting to hear anything at all, when Nancy rounds the corner. Steve breaks down. He didn't think of her either and she was just across the bay, in Berkeley.
He hugs her so tight he's scared he might hurt her.
"I think he had a heart attack and fell, but I don't know anything yet. They won't tell me anything worth knowing."
"It's Eddie, he'll be fine," she says, trying to soothe him.
The cardiologist finally comes in and sits across from Steve.
"His co-workers reported that he fell off a rock he was standing up on, giving a tour," the doctor tells Steve. "He'd had a massive heart attack."
Steve knew about the falling, but not about the heart attack until that intern had scared him to death.
"They said he got really sweaty and then just looked like he got dizzy and fell down," Steve offers.
"He did," the doctor confirms, "his artery was all but fully blocked. I went through his groin and put in a stent. He should do just fine. The orthopedic surgeon is putting plates in his arm from when he fell and tried to catch himself. That's really what has taken so long. I was in and out in no time. He could have stayed awake during it. But she'll come talk to you about his arm soon, I'm sure."
Steve nods, trying not to cry, "But he's okay?"
"Yes, he was lucky they got him in the air. That compound fracture in his arm probably saved him from waiting around. People wait too long, too often, if they are still functional after a heart attack."
"Is his brain okay? How long was he down?" Steve watches medical shows, he knows you can't be unresponsive all that long without consequences. Unless you're Meredith Grey. And Eddie needs that big brain of his and Steve doesn't know what Eddie will do if he's lost any cognitive function.
"He was never down, Mr. Harrington. He had a heart attack, and a massive one, but he didn't suffer a cardiac arrest. He was conscious when they wheeled him into my OR. We'll run more tests, but there's no reason to assume he's suffered any cognitive impairment from the event."
Steve lets out a big breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding.
A nurse takes him up to the ICU and tells him he has ten minutes. Eddie is still out, laying flat, but Steve gently kisses him on the forehead and stands next to him and holds his hand.
"I'm here, honey. You're going to be just fine," Steve tells him.
"He needs to stay flat with that leg straight for a little longer. We need to let that artery and vein heal for a few hours."
Steve nods.
"He'll stay in the ICU until then. But everything looks perfect. We're checking the pulse in his leg and the cath site in his groin frequently. It all looks really good," she assures.
"Thank you for taking good care of him."
She nods, and says she'll be back in ten minutes.
When she comes to get him, which feels like mere seconds later, he reluctantly lets go of Eddie's hand.
"We'll put him in a regular room really soon and then you can stay with him as much as you want," she promises.
He nods, and kisses Eddie's forehead again, "I love you, Eddie. I'm right down the hall."
He calls Ellie when he gets back to the waiting room, but they must be in the air. He's not sure if the plane they're on has wifi, but he shoots them a group text.
Ellie calls back almost immediately and is crying.
"Ells, he's okay. I promise," Steve assures.
Robin takes the phone from her, "We've been delayed on the runway for a long fucking time. She's just upset it's taking so long to get moving.
"He's okay. He's not awake yet, but I've been in to see him in the ICU and they say he is doing great."
"We're going to be late. I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's taking so long."
"Try to calm her down. I think he’s going to be okay now."
"Are you okay?" Robin asks, and Steve says yes, even if that's not really true.
He calls Wayne next, and he's arguing with someone in the background.
"Who is at your house?"
"That damn Wheeler kid, he says he's flying with me to California."
Steve smiles. Dustin must have called in Mike to help wrangle Wayne. That damn Wheeler kid is over fifty years old, but Wayne must think he's still fifteen.
"I don't need a damn babysitter!"
"I know, but let him help you. Eddie is okay. He'll be fine. He had a heart attack, but they put in a stent. He broke his arm when he fell, but they pinned it."
"I'm still coming!" Wayne snaps, gruffly.
"I wasn't suggesting that you not come," Steve says softly, "but please let Mike help you."
He hears Wayne grumbling, then Mike is on the other end, "I got us on a direct flight out of Indy. We'll be there late tonight. Dustin is picking us up."
"Thank you so much," he is so grateful that Wayne will have help getting out here. He won't have to worry, Mike has it under control.
"He really okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. He's not awake yet, so I'm still nervous. I think I will be until I get to talk to him, but they said he's doing great."
Steve's grateful for the kids, they've stayed close to them over the years. Even if they were a little sneaky about it at first.
1987
Steve's doing the dishes, and the phone starts ringing.
"Eddie! Phone!"
But Eddie doesn't seem to be in earshot, so Steve tries to get his hands dry enough to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Steve Harrington?"
And Steve isn't sure who this is, and he doesn't like that.
"Yeah, this is Steve."
"It's Karen, Mrs. Wheeler."
"Hi. What can I do for you, Mrs. Wheeler?" he asks, and he has no idea why she'd be calling him or how she even got their number.
"I'm trying to find out more about this trip to come see you that the boys are planning."
Dustin is supposed to come visit next month, but Steve knows nothing about Mike. Maybe Eddie invited him, though?
"Oh. Yes, next month."
"Claudia is letting Dustin go, and I'm sure Joyce is letting Will. Sue seems less than convinced, so I'm not sure about Lucas. So, I guess, I just want to know what you were planning to do with them for a week?"
"Well. Uh, we live outside a small town, in the woods. By the National Park. So, there's not a lot to do, really. Just be at the house? Eddie will probably do a D&D thing with them."
"Eddie Munson is one of my main concerns," she says, and he wants to tell her to fuck right off. But he won't, at least not yet.
"Eddie is just an older version of the kids. He's harmless."
"Nancy says the same thing."
"She's right," Steve assures, "and we definitely don't have anything wild planned. Eddie is a federal employee. Did you know he's a park ranger for the National Park Service? So he'll probably show them the Park, things like that."
Eddie's still only a temporary park ranger, but he's not about to tell her that.
"Yes, well."
"We were planning to take them to Confusion Hill. It's, like, a science thing," he says.
"I don't know, it's so far and the last time Mike flew to California, well, I'm still not even sure what actually happened."
"If you aren't comfortable, if you don't trust us, then just don't send Mike, Mrs. Wheeler. He's your kid. You can tell him no."
He wants to tell her he kept her kid alive through much more dangerous situations while she wasn't paying attention, but he's not that mean.
"I'm not saying no," she backpedals.
"Why don't all you moms get together and call me back and we'll all talk about it together then?"
"That's probably a good idea, Steve. We have our book club tomorrow night. Will you be home?"
Steve tries to do the time zone math in his head, he still doesn't have it memorized yet. Then realizes tomorrow is Sunday and they aren't going anywhere that he knows about.
"I'll be here," he assures.
Steve hangs up and finds Eddie outside, scraping paint off the windowsill outside of their bedroom.
"Did you invite all the boys to come with Dustin?"
Eddie looks at him like he's crazy, "No. Why?"
"Well, I just got a call from Karen Wheeler. Apparently they think they're all invited to come with him next month."
Eddie just laughs, "Little shits."
"Are we okay with that?"
"Sure, I guess," Eddie says, "maybe I'll put them to work," he adds, going back to scraping.
He's been trying to get the trim scraped and sanded on the house, because the trim needs repainted, desperately.
"I was worried enough about entertaining Henderson, now we're getting three more?"
"I'll write up a campaign. That'll keep them busy for days."
"That sounds like a lot of fun for me, honey," Steve says, dryly.
Eddie laughs, and leans back so Steve will kiss him.
Steve does.
"You are aware we've never actually told the other kids we're together. They might notice that all our shit is in one bedroom."
"Invite yourself to someone's house, and you get what you get," Eddie teases. "There's no way in hell I'm moving our shit around to fake separate bedrooms."
"You're okay with them finding out?"
Eddie shrugs, "It's just the kids. I don't think they'll kick up a fuss."
"Yes, Mike Wheeler never causes a scene."
"Then Mike should have thought of that before scheming to tag along."
"The Wheelers can afford to send Mike, and Claudia can send Dustin. I think the Sinclairs can, if Lucas even gets to come. That sounded iffy. Do you think I need to offer to help pay for Will's ticket?"
They aren't rolling in cash at the moment, but they can definitely afford a plane ticket, if they need to.
"I'd call Hopper and ask what he thinks, maybe," Eddie offers.
Steve does just that and Hopper tells him thanks, but he's happy to help Joyce cover it if he needs to. Then he grills him on their plans, of which, they still have none. Because they didn't invite these little shitheads in the first place.
Steve tells him the same thing he told Mrs. Wheeler and it seems to be good enough.
A month later Steve picks all four boys up from the airport and then they pile into the house while Eddie is still at work.
"We have one guest bedroom furnished, and the couch pulls out. So, just situate yourselves however you want to, I guess."
"I call dibs on bunking with Eddie," Mike says.
"You're an idiot," Dustin answers, giving Mike his most scathing 'how are you this stupid?’ look, which Steve knows all too well. He's been on the end of that look more than he'd care to admit.
"What?" Mike asks, not at all following the plot.
Will and Lucas both roll their eyes at him.
"I don't think Eddie's bed has any room for you," Lucas says.
"What? Why?"
"Because that's where Steve sleeps, you stupid shit," Dustin says, pushing past him, "unless you're planning to sleep between them like a little, bitty baby."
Steve points finger down automatically, declaring, "Yeah, that's a no."
Dustin cackles as he starts snooping around.
"What?! Did we know this?!" Mike yells, no indoor voice to speak of.
"Well, we all did," Lucas answers, "I guess you needed it spelled out for you."
"You guys should have told me!" he whines, following them to the guest room.
Steve is staying out of this if at all possible.
"You dated my sister!" Mike shouts back towards Steve.
Steve ignores him.
"He likes both, leave him alone," Dustin says, shoving Mike into the bedroom.
"You can like both?!"
Dustin pokes his head out, and mouths sorry to Steve.
Steve just waves him off. It went better than he expected, honestly.
2023
In the end, it was barely controlled chaos for an entire week. But Steve wouldn't change those visits for anything. Every summer, even into their college years and beyond, they'd make time to descend onto the house like a plague of locusts for at least a weekend.
Now, Mike's on the way with Wayne. Steve talked to both Will and Lucas on the phone. And Max and El. And Dustin, of course, is currently sitting right next to him.
They were his first set of kids, once upon a time. Now the age difference between them is nothing. They are just family.
He's loved that so many of their friends drifted to California after them over the years. Some have come and gone, like Robin. But others came and stayed, like Dustin and Nancy.
Dustin clears his throat.
"What?" Steve asks.
"Meg thinks you could pursue a malpractice suit for Eddie's doctor failing to investigate the root cause of his need for Cialis."
"Oh my god, Eddie is going to kill you for telling your wife his dick wasn't working. And for now telling Nancy," Steve says, looking at her.
Dustin rolls his eyes, "Neither one of them will tell anyone, right, Nancy?"
Nancy nods her agreement to forget she heard anything.
Dustin continues, "It's not like I was gossiping. I was asking for legal advice."
"We aren't suing Eddie's elderly doctor for being an idiot."
"He could have killed him!"
"You think I don't know that?" Steve asks, incredulous. "I'm furious. I'm sick, that maybe we could have fixed this before he fucking had a heart attack and fell off a rock. But it wasn't malicious."
"I didn't say it was malicious, but it was clearly negligent."
Steve nods, "You're not wrong. But Eddie is never going to be that spiteful."
"Well, no, he won't be. But we can be,” Dustin says, pointing back and forth between the two of them. “We can be very vindictive, I have faith in us."
Steve laughs, maybe for the first time all day, "Thanks, Henderson, I needed that."
Dustin smiles back.
Steve comes out of the bathroom in the hallway to a melee at the nurse's station. His heart leaps into his throat. Nancy is absolutely dressing down a nurse. Dustin standing at her side, scrolling through his phone, wildly.
He couldn't have been gone more than three minutes and now all hell has broken loose.
"Hey, hey, hey, whoa, what's going on here?" Steve asks, rushing up.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Harrington. Everything is fine. Your husband is fine," she assures. "A couple of my co-workers were just discussing if your husband was the same Eddie Munson from a podcast. Your friends overheard. I'm very sorry. Those nurses will not be on your husband's service any longer."
Steve is very confused, but he feels his stomach drop, immediately sick.
"Did someone do a podcast about Hawkins?" Steve asks Nancy, "About Eddie?"
"I didn't know," she assures and he realizes Dustin is scouring through the podcasts app on his phone.
"How did this get by us?" Dustin asks, swiping as fast as he can.
Steve turns to the charge nurse, "I don't know what was in that podcast, but my husband did not murder anyone. He has never been in a satanic cult. He played Dungeons and Dragons. That's it. That's the story. He was a nerdy, metalhead high school kid that they decided to blame for horrific crimes. He's a good man. A good father. Is this going to affect his care? Do I need to have him transferred to another hospital?"
"No, Mr. Harrington. He's in good hands here, I give you my word."
Steve nods, "Thank you. He better be."
Dustin finds it.
But Steve can't listen to the podcast right now. He's not emotionally in a place to do it and he doesn't have his bone conduction headphones with him, anyway. He can't just borrow earbuds from his friends with his hearing aids and they definitely aren't listening to this on speaker.
So, Nancy is listening to it. Steve wasn't sure she'd be any calmer than Dustin, but that's the way it shook out.
Nancy reports back that it's kind of an amateur podcast. Small. It's not like he was featured on Criminal or had a season of Serial about him. There wasn't much substance and it wasn't even really pushing Eddie as guilty. It just covered what happened. Well, what happened, as far as the public knew.
"It's not that bad, I promise. I think it was wildly irresponsible to mention him by name since he was cleared. But it definitely didn't seem to have an agenda pushing his guilt."
"I'll have Meg send them a cease and desist," Dustin says.
"All day with the suing," Steve says, rubbing his forehead.
"No, not Meg. This is a job for Erica," Dustin declares, with vengeance.
"Oh my god, no. Do not sic Erica on these people. Then we'll own a shitty podcast and I don't have time to investigate true crimes right now," Steve kind of laughs.
Dustin smiles, "Say the word and I'll tell her. I'll do it. I want to do it."
"Let's let Eddie make that decision, once he's home and better. If it's not that bad, if it's not defaming his character, I think it can wait."
"Fine," Dustin says.
Then, "We should do a podcast, though, right? We could totally solve old mysteries. All of us, together," Dustin says, clearly scheming.
Some things never change, even with advanced age.
"Yes, we all have time for that," Steve says snarkily.
"All our kids are grown! We do have time. We could make time."
"I think that's asking for trouble," Nancy says.
Steve points at Nancy, "I'm with Nance."
"You two suck."
"Only dick," Steve banters, making them both laugh.
"Not these days, I heard it didn't work," Dustin snaps back.
"Hey! It's working, it just needs a little pharmaceutical help."
"Does Ellie know?" Nancy asks, then clarifies, "About Hawkins. Not about Eddie's erectile dysfunction."
Steve laughs, then nods, "Yeah. We explained it to her, as best we could without the monsters, before she left for college. We didn't want something exactly like this happening without us there."
Nancy nods.
Steve would sooner die than have Ellie question, even for one second, Eddie's character.
"I kind of think we should sit all the kids down together and tell them the full truth," Nancy says, "I think maybe it's time. Time to stop lying about our scars, about our childhoods. Help them understand why we are all so intertwined in each other's lives. We've let parents die without them knowing what we actually went through, maybe we shouldn't start dying without our kids knowing?"
Steve doesn't think she's wrong. They'll definitely need a family meeting, with all of them, to discuss it first.
"I think we'd all have to be on board, and I don't know that Eddie will be. I think he's still scared of his NDA. Like Dr. Owens is somehow out there, still alive, just waiting for him to break it."
"Then we won't do it. All or nothing," Dustin says. Easy as that.
"Steve?"
And Steve jumps up, "Yes?"
It's the charge nurse from earlier. She seems to be running point on Eddie now. He is happy with that, she seems nice. Funny. She clearly wasn’t offended by them all acting like feral animals, circling the wagon, protecting Eddie. So he likes her.
"Your husband is awake and asking for you, quite adamantly," she says, smiling at him.
"I'm sorry if he's being a pain," Steve answers, but he is so happy Eddie is well enough to be making demands.
"He was a little confused, coming out of anesthesia. We told him he was in San Francisco and he thought it was 1986."
Steve smiles, "The first time we were here, it was 1986."
"Oh wow, you've been together longer than I've been alive," the nurse says, then backpedals. "Sorry, I'm not calling you old."
Steve laughs, "Oh, we're old. It's not a secret. Don't worry."
"He was asking for his boyfriend, at first," she laughs, "and I was like, oh no, this is going to be uncomfortable. And those people are scary," she laughs, teasing him, "but he finally said he wanted Steve and we got out of him that he thought it was still the eighties. I was like, whew, crisis averted."
Steve laughs, "He's in the right millennium now?"
"He is. Still wants Steve, though," she smiles and he smiles back.
"How long have you been married?" she asks, making small talk as they walk down the long hallway and Steve has to think about it.
"Uh, almost…fifteen years? Sorry, I had to think about it. We were together so long before we could get married that I never really think of that as how long we've been together. Thirty-six years. He's been my husband for thirty-six years, only been married for fifteen of them, though," he laughs.
She slows down and motions to the open doorway. He smiles in thanks.
Steve pokes his head around the corner and Eddie is propped up in his hospital bed.
"Wanna go see Smokey and the Bandit? I heard it's 1986 in here."
When Eddie hears Steve, he turns, looks at him and starts to cry.
"Oh, honey," Steve says, going to him, cupping his face, careful of the oxygen tubing, "I'm here, are you okay?"
Eddie just nods his head, a little jerkily. He’s clinging to Steve’s arm with his uninjured hand.
"I'm right here. Ellie is on the way with Robin. She said to tell you she's coming."
Eddie nods again, and Steve thinks that makes the crying worse. "Wayne's on the way, too, with Mike. Dustin's here. Nancy’s here. Everyone was so worried," Steve tells him, "I was so worried."
He wants Eddie to say something, to prove he's still in there.
"You told me to go to the doctor," he finally chokes out, "I should have listened."
"You should always listen to me," Steve teases, brushing his thumb across Eddie's cheek. "You did go. They just didn't catch it. This isn't your fault."
"I went about my dick, not my heart. I should have asked for a full checkup. I really could have fucked up, here. I almost died. Lots of people die, they don't call it a widowmaker for nothing."
"You're okay. It's okay," Steve tells him.
"Will you go get a checkup? I'm not surviving this to lose you."
"Yes, I'll go get a full physical."
Eddie nods, seemingly appeased.
"Are you in pain?"
"No, I'm pretty drugged, I think," Eddie answers, "my arm. Jesus Christ, Steve. That was excruciating. I didn't even know I was having a heart attack, I don't think. All my attention was on the bone sticking out of my arm. I was just sweating more than I’ve ever sweated in my life, and I just got dizzy and fell."
"I'm so sorry, honey," Steve says, "are you sure you aren't in pain right now?"
Eddie shakes his head no.
"If that changes, you tell me. I’ll go all Terms of Endearment on their asses."
Eddie nods.
"I love you, Steve. That's all I could think about. Ellie and you. I thought, I'm going to fucking die and he won't know how much I love him."
"Eddie. I know you love me. And I love you. This isn't brand new information, honey."
"No, I don't think you understand how much I love you."
"Pretty sure I do," Steve tells him, pulling up a chair and sitting as close to the bed as possible, taking Eddie's good hand in his. "Let's not sit here and argue about who loves the other more. Let's call it a draw."
Eddie nods, squeezes Steve's hand.
"What rock did you fall off of? No one seems to know how far you fell."
"I wasn't on a rock, I was standing on a stump."
"The big stump? From the museum?"
Eddie smiles, amused, "No, sweetheart. The Mark Twain stump is in Kings Canyon."
"I was just testing you," Steve laughs. He wasn’t, but he did know that. At least Eddie is still up for giving him a history lesson.
"Just a stump. Not a famous one. I probably fell, shit, four to six feet? Not far, but far enough to fuck up my day."
"I think it saved you. The arm. The surgeon said it probably helped get you help sooner for your heart."
Eddie nods.
Steve realizes Eddie doesn't have his glasses on.
"Do you have your glasses?"
"I haven't seen them," Eddie tells him.
"I'll find them," Steve assures, "unless, did they break?"
"No, I don't think so. I think I remember them taking them off my face."
"I'll find them."
Steve is standing at the nurses station, trying to get ahold of Eddie's glasses while Eddie’s asleep, when he sees Ellie barreling towards him. He opens his arms and catches her as she hugs him tight, "He's good. I was just with him."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'll take you to see for yourself. He does have oxygen on, just so you aren't surprised."
He lets her go when she pulls back and Robin launches herself into his arms, "I was so worried about you."
"Me?" he laughs, "Eddie is the one that had a heart attack."
"I was worried about him, too," she assures, "but, you sounded so alone."
He hugs her tight, "I wasn't," he says thinking of the law enforcement escorts, and then of their friends, "Thanks for calling everyone. I wasn't thinking."
Steve takes Ellie and Robin to Eddie's room. He's asleep, but Ellie sits by his bed. Steve stands behind her and squeezes her shoulders.
"He looks good, better than I expected," Robin whispers, leaning next to Steve.
Steve nods. Eddie is never this scruffy anymore, so that makes him look off to Steve, but his color is good.
Eddie hadn't had time to shave this morning, saying he'd just do it when he came home for lunch. It was really unlike Eddie, he was probably out of uniform regulation. Steve thinks he should have known right then that something was wrong. Not that anyone would say anything to him. But, now he's got way more than a five o'clock shadow going.
Eddie finally wakes up and Ellie wraps her arms around his neck, "Hey, old man."
Steve smiles as Eddie reaches his arm up to hug her back, "There's my girl."
She starts crying and Steve rubs her back.
"I'm okay," Eddie assures, "Ells, I'm good as new."
She nods, but keeps her face in Eddie's neck.
"Don't do that again," she orders and Eddie laughs.
"Yes, ma'am."
She finally lets him go and sits back down next to him.
Robin takes Steve down to the vending machine while Eddie is visiting with Ellie. Steve didn't feel like he needed to hover, that she might just want to talk to Eddie alone.
It wouldn't hurt for Steve to get some fresh air for a minute, anyway.
They sit outside and he's stressed out. Eddie seems fine, but Steve still feels pulled taut enough to snap. He feels horribly guilty.
"I should have known he was in trouble, Rob. I should have seen it."
"How could you see that he had a blocked artery? You're not a cardiologist, nor a superhero with x-ray vision, last I checked."
"He was tired a lot. I thought, well, we're getting old. He started getting lazy."
"Eddie? Our Eddie? Bouncing off the walls? That Eddie?"
Steve nods, "He was still on when he was around people, but at home? He was worn out. I mean, I like a good nap, too. Don't get me wrong. But I'm not tired like that. I thought, well, he works harder than I do. I'm basically home all day, what do I do to feel tired? He's still on his feet a lot of the day. I should have encouraged him to retire last year."
"Steve, you're spiraling. This isn't your fault. Eddie isn't anywhere near ready to retire and you know that. You know he's not."
"I feel like I should have understood that he had a problem. He started getting lazy in bed, and I thought again, well, we're getting old. I'm an idiot. Eddie. Lazy in bed. What the fuck was I thinking? I don't think he could do the work, not that he didn't want to."
"Steve."
"He fucked me before he left for work. Like we were twenty. I thought it was funny that we had fucked so hard he was dripping sweat," Steve says, "it almost killed him. I almost killed him."
"Steve, you didn't almost kill him. It had nothing to do with the sex. The blockage was already there."
"I know that. I do. But he had a workout that he hadn't had in a very long time. That's not nothing. I don't know the last time he did that. It had to contribute."
"He's fine. You need to unclench, before you're the one needing medical attention."
"His dick not working was the canary in the coal mine. I just didn't pay attention."
Robin takes him by the shoulders, "This isn't something you were in charge of. His doctor should have known. And I'm not blaming Eddie, Steve, I'm not. But if Eddie didn't know? How could you have? It was happening in his body and he didn't know. So you need to stop blaming yourself."
Steve nods, takes a big breath.
"And you keep in mind that I'm only tolerating this flagrant assault on my brain about your sex life because Eddie's in the hospital."
Steve laughs.
"It's not funny! Do you want me to tell you explicit details about Pen and me?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her, "Yes, please. That will make me feel much better."
She slaps him on the arm, "Gross! I forgot you are attracted to that! That was not meant to be an offer of a treat for you, but a punishment!"
He laughs, and pulls her into a hug, "Thanks, Rob."
She hugs him back, "I know you're worried, and rightfully so. But he's okay. Let's worry about getting him back on his feet and then you can focus on getting back on his dick."
Steve chuckles, laying his head against hers, she's what he's needed since this all went to hell in a handbasket.
"Oh no, I'm retired from that. My laser focus is on keeping him alive for the next thirty or forty years. That does not include dangerous things like sex."
"Well, I think he'll have a difference of opinion, but okay. Be a crazy person."
"I could have lost him, I don't know how to handle that."
He hugs her until Ellie sends a text, saying Papa Wayne and Uncle Mike are upstairs.
"You can go in," Steve tells Wayne.
"I wanted to talk to you first. He's actually okay? You weren't lying to an old man to not stress me out before flying?"
Steve hugs Wayne, "He's doing great. I promise."
"He scared me," Wayne admits.
"Me too."
Wayne walks into the room.
"Guess I'm the winner of Wordle. Too bad about your streak, kid."
Eddie smiles at him, "I'm glad you're here, old man."
Wayne walks over and takes Eddie's hand in his.
"Steve tried to get me to not come," Wayne lies.
"Why would you do that, Steve?" Eddie asks, trying to look earnest.
"I did no such thing!" Steve argues, but he sees Wayne wink at Eddie. They're just riling him up for fun. Assholes, the both of them.
He almost loses his husband and they still won't stop giving him a ration of shit. He wouldn't have it any other way, but still. He's surrounded by assholes.
Steve looks through the plastic bag they handed him with Eddie’s personal effects. They had to cut his wedding band off, and it makes Steve sad to see it broken. Eddie’s worn it every single day since they got married. Steve is the one that forgets to put his own on half the time, he’s not even wearing his right now he realizes, but not Eddie. He knows it’s just a thing, that's what Eddie would say. Their love has nothing to do with a ring, or a house or a car.
His black sea glass pendant necklace is in the bag. He's not supposed to wear jewelry, besides his watch and ring, at work. Though, Steve is sure Eddie had it under his undershirt, and not visible. Steve didn’t even realize Eddie had been wearing it again, it had started getting worn years and years ago and Eddie had put it away for safekeeping. But this morning, for whatever reason, he’d put it on before he left the house. Steve brushes his thumb over the glass. He has Eddie’s wallet, his missing glasses, his phone, his watch, his pickup keys, a handful of loose change, and his big carabiner of well-labeled work keys.
He looks through Eddie's wallet. He still carries pictures, like he doesn't have a phone in his pocket at all times.
Lots of Ellie at various ages. And the one of Steve, in the car, from the road trip. It's been replaced several times over the years, digitized and re-printed. But even this copy is worn. Steve's asked him before what's so special about this picture, but Eddie can't seem to articulate why he's carried it all these years. Just that it's his favorite. That he fell in love with that version of Steve and he wants to keep him close.
Steve can't believe he was that young when they fell in love. He looks like a baby. He supposes they both were.
Steve swallows, hard. If Eddie had died, they still would have handed him this bag, he realizes.
Eddie
2023
Eddie wakes up to the sound of a sports announcer on TV, and it's turned up way too loud for a hospital room.
It's a familiar sound, and he smiles before he opens his eyes.
Eddie sees Steve holding a bag of all his personal effects, looking through his wallet, “You robbing me, Harrington?”
“Taking everything you’ve got,” Steve banters back, “how are you?”
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. But good. I’m still living.”
Steve puts Eddie's glasses on his little table.
Steve smiles and strokes his head all the way down, as if he still has his long hair. It's a habit, well ingrained by this point.
"TV is a little loud, sweetheart," Eddie says, "I bet the nurses station can tell you the box scores."
"Oh, shit, sorry. I turned my ears down a little so I didn't have to hear everything going on in the hall and forgot."
Eddie has never wanted to be subjected to sports blaring on television, but today, it's the best sound he's ever heard.
2008
Eddie never paid any attention to the Olympic Games until he was living with a man that would watch paint dry if someone was going to get a medal at the end. He thought 1988 was bad, that was the first Games they lived together for, and it happened twice that year. That was rough.
In 1992 there was all the excitement of The Dream Team playing basketball in the Games as pros for the first time. Steve had been so into it. Watching Bird and Magic in their swan songs.
At least Eddie understands basketball, and they'd seen Jordan play in Chicago, and then a couple years after they'd moved out west he'd surprised Steve with Lakers versus Celtics tickets, so Steve had finally gotten to see Larry Bird play, and against Magic Johnson, no less.
So watching them all play basketball together for a few games was relatively painless, as far as sports goes.
But it has nothing on this new hell, where they air sports on different channels, basically all day. He wakes up to the Olympics. He goes to sleep to the sound of the Olympics. All day, all night. Their TiVo is full of all the random sports Eddie doesn’t give a shit about.
In 2004, Steve was up in the middle of the night, rocking a brand new Ellie, watching badminton or cycling or water polo or dressage. Which, what the fuck is dressage? Horse dancing? Steve's scared of horses, but he damn sure spent an inordinate amount of time invested in which one could dance the best.
Eddie wished he had ear plugs and horse blinders for himself.
This year it’s Michael Phelps, this. Michael Phelps, that. Michael Phelps, Michael Phelps, Michael Phelps. How many medals Michael Phelps now has. How many he might get. Eddie doesn’t care if it’s one or seventy-five.
There was some swimming relay last night that had Steve screaming at the television loud enough that it woke up Ellie.
Eddie's losing her to this madness, too. She loves watching gymnastics. Prancing around the living room while Steve eggs her on.
They just got married, but Eddie wonders if it’s too soon to consider divorce.
He'd never, but he is getting out of this sports hell house. He leans over to kiss Steve, "I'm going outside."
"Ells, you want to go for a walk with me?"
She looks up at him, "No, I'm watching with Daddy."
Eddie pretends he doesn't see the quirk of a smile tugging at Steve's lip.
He grabs his acoustic guitar and sits out on the steps, just picking out a tune for a while.
He really wants a cigarette. He wonders if that ever fully goes away. Most of the time he doesn't think about it at all, but others? Jesus H. Christ he'd kill for one.
Later, he hears the door being grappled with, finally opening and Steve screaming in the distance, "Can you see him? Eleanor! Don't you go out there unless Daddy says he can see you!"
"I'm right here, Steve! I've got eyes on her!"
Steve shows up in the doorway after her, watches as she climbs up on Eddie's lap.
They've hammered into her not to go outside unless one of them has acknowledged her and okayed it. Her seeing them isn't enough, they need to see her first.
They don't want her wandering off into the woods. They know the worst case scenario there and want no part of that.
2023
"Wheeler?"
"Well, not anymore, but sure," Nancy says, scooting closer to the bed.
"Where's Steve?"
"You sent him to the motel with Ellie and Wayne so he could take a shower and they could all get a catnap, remember?"
Eddie nods, he does remember, now.
"Are you here to smother me so you can finally take him back?" Eddie teases, reaching for her hand.
"You caught me," she says, squeezing his hand between both of hers.
"I knew you were working a long con," he answers, "where is your husband, anyway? Does he not care that I was dying?"
"You weren't dying, and he's on assignment. He'll be in London for another week."
"Your husband has seen my husband naked," Eddie giggles, "and he took pictures."
The pain medicine is still working, he's pretty sure.
"Who hasn't seen your husband naked?"
"You've seen my husband naked," he laughs, "he's been inside you."
"Eddie!" she laughs, squeezing his hand.
"What? Are we pretending that's not true?"
"Yes!" she laughs. "Since it happened forty years ago, I thought maybe we'd swept it under the rug."
"Oh, my bad. Don't be embarrassed. He's been inside me, too. I mean, he has a good dick, right?"
"I'm ignoring you," she laughs, "you're clearly on the good shit and should be muzzled."
"C'mon, Wheeler."
"Eddie, I swear on everything, I couldn't tell you anything about Steve's dick. I don't remember, beyond that he had one. It was the first one I'd ever seen, so yeah. Sorry."
"You're no fun."
"I apologize for not having had the foresight to plan for a pop quiz being administered by his husband forty years later."
Eddie laughs, "Where's Steve at, anyway?"
"Still at the motel. Should I call him?"
She's already told him that, he remembers now. He feels a little fuzzy.
"No, no. Let him sleep. He looked so tired. He needs time to take his ears off and just rest."
"I didn't realize his hearing had gotten so bad," she says.
Eddie nods, "It's definitely deteriorated more in the last year. I'm really scared he's going to lose it all before long."
"He seems to be doing just fine if his hearing aids are on, but he got tired of hearing all the background noise in the hall and turned them off in the waiting room for a while. He clearly couldn't hear much of anything without them. I was just surprised."
Eddie nods, she's not wrong, and he lays back against the pillow.
"You feeling okay?"
"Just tired," he says, honestly, "I feel exhausted."
"Sleep. I'll be here and then it'll be Dustin. Or Mike. One of us will be here until he gets back," she promises.
He nods and closes his eyes again, "Thanks." But he doesn't let go of her hand, and a few seconds later he looks at her again, "If something happens to me, you guys all take care of him, okay?"
"Nothing is happening to you, Eddie. They fixed you up. Good as new."
"Promise me. He'll try to take care of everyone else, but I need someone to help him sort it all out. I do most of the insurance and bills and stuff. He's totally capable, I just don't mind doing it, so he'll just need some help sorting it all out at first. It's in my desk at home, in the hanging files in the drawer. It's pretty organized. You shouldn't have trouble."
"Eddie-"
"I've been meaning to install smoke detectors with strobe lights, especially in the bedroom. I know he won't hear the regular ones anymore if he's asleep. I'm just always there these days, so I haven't made the time. I should have made the time. I could have had this heart attack and died in bed and then the house could have burned down and he'd never known there was trouble."
"Eddie, I think the odds of you dying of a heart attack the same night your house burns down, seems pretty low."
"I've heard of it happening before. Steve and Robin were talking about it happening to a guy they knew a couple years ago."
"That was from a TV show, Eddie."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Who would Steve and Robin know that you don't?"
"Okay, maybe, but if I don't make it home, make sure Dustin gets someone to go out and install some new smoke detectors. Top of the line with the carbon monoxide detectors built in. Don't get the ones that relay off your existing ones and give off a louder, lower tone. His lows are worse than his high frequencies. That's not as common, so it has to be taken into consideration."
"Eddie, you're just fine. They said so."
"I could still throw a clot, it happens."
"It's not going to happen."
"The code to the safe is his birthday. There are legal documents in there, but there's also a manilla envelope marked private. Don't open that, unless you want to see pictures of us when we were young and fancied ourselves as amateur erotic photographers," he tells her.
She makes a face and he laughs.
He thinks of Steve’s favorite, and the recreation they took just a few years ago. Eddie’s hand again resting on Steve’s hair as Steve went down on him, only this time it was just his wedding ring showing, not the heavy rings he wore in his youth.
Eddie rubs the back of his ring finger with his thumb. He feels naked without his wedding ring. He's spent a lifetime harping on Steve about how their stuff is just things, but now that he's on the other side, he just wants his ring back.
"I have a will. It's pretty recent. Don't bury me in Hawkins. Cremate me. Scatter some of my ashes by our tree. Where Church is buried. He knows the one. If he really wants a headstone for me in Hawkins, put his last name on it. Don't put Munson on it and invite vandalism. I'm still like the Boo Radley of Hawkins to most of the kids there. He doesn't deserve to deal with that."
"Eddie."
"Nobody better shame him if he moves on. Man, woman, anybody he wants. However fast he does it. That's not a reflection on our relationship, so I don't want anyone to give him grief. When he finds someone, everybody better get on board, okay?"
"Eddie, I cannot imagine him moving on from you."
"Don't say that, that's fucking sad. He's still young enough that it's okay for him to want a partner. I love him, Nancy. I love him so much I can't bear to think of him alone, rattling around our house by himself waiting to die. I can't."
"We wouldn't let that happen."
"And don't try to make him stay at our house if he doesn't want to. If he wants to move home to Wayne or to the city to be near Robin and Ellie, help him do that. It's just a house. It's our home, and we've been so happy there, but he doesn't have to stay without me. It was my dream, he was always just along for the ride," and Eddie starts to cry, it has to be the medicine, or something is wrong, he's not usually like this. But he feels a sense of impending doom that's crushing his chest.
Nancy stands and hugs him gently, the best she can, "Are you okay? Do you feel alright? Do I need to get a nurse?"
He shakes his head no, then changes his mind, "Yeah, have them come check me. Something's not right."
"Okay," and she pushes his call button, and he thinks she's too scared to leave him alone. He doesn't want her to go, anyway.
"Don't leave me."
"I'm not going anywhere," she promises. Then asks, "Should I call Steve?"
"Not yet."
The nurse comes in and takes his vitals, checks all his monitors and says everything looks fine. She thinks he's just having some anxiety, which she assures them isn't uncommon.
"Is this your sister?" she asks, looking him over, thoroughly.
"No, she's my husband's ex-girlfriend."
Nancy laughs, embarrassed, but glad he's acting more like himself, "Ignore him. That was forty years ago," she clarifies.
"Well, he has a type then," the nurse laughs, "I thought you were siblings, for sure."
They both laugh, Eddie doesn't really see it these days, but okay.
"Should have seen us in high school. I think we had the same haircut," he says, "looked better on me, by the way."
"Well, there was only one beauty shop in town, so…" Nancy laughs.
"Bold of you to assume I wasn't cutting my own hair."
The nurse watches them banter, "Okay, I gotta know. Was your hair long, or was yours short?"
"His was long," Nancy says as she pulls Facebook up on her phone, and finds a picture of all of them from that summer.
"Oh my, a bad boy," she teases.
Eddie laughs, "I sure thought so, anyway."
"Your husband?" she asks, pointing at Steve in the picture.
Eddie nods.
"He's always had a good head of hair, huh? He's been the talk of the nurses station with all that pretty gray hair, a real silver fox."
They both look at each other and laugh.
"Don't tell him that, it'll go to his head," Eddie teases.
"We'll keep it between us, but it's just so pretty," she says, smiling at him.
"Don't tell him I told you, but the secret is purple shampoo," Eddie whispers, like it's a state secret.
Steve fusses over his silver hair, unsurprisingly. The first time Eddie found the purple shampoo stain in their shower, he didn't know what the fuck was going on.
He blamed Ellie at first, but she pointed her finger at Steve. He swore he didn't know it would stain and that he was looking on Reddit to see how to remove it without damaging the tub.
Eddie had just shaken his head. He should have known it was something to do with Steve's hair. He isn't new to dealing with treating Steve's hair like it's its own living, breathing member of the family.
"His secret is safe with me," she teases as she puts something in Eddie's IV. "There you go, Mr. Munson. That should help you get some rest."
"Eddie, please," he tells her.
"Okay, Eddie. I'll come check on you again in a little while."
They both thank her, and he thinks she had a nice way of putting him at ease. Nancy takes his hand again. Eddie looks at her. They are siblings in a way, Eddie realizes. They all are.
"I love you, Wheeler," he says, and she laughs, telling him she wants some of whatever he just got.
Before he knows it, he's asleep.
He startles awake and Dustin hops up and is hovering over him, "You okay?"
He nods, "Where's Steve?"
"He's on his way back from the motel. He'll be here any minute."
"Wake me up when he gets here."
And he falls back asleep.
When he wakes up again, Nancy is gone, Dustin is gone, but Robin is beside him.
"Where's Steve?"
"I'm right here," Steve answers before she can, pushing open the door to the in room bathroom, "I just had to pee."
Eddie nods, and Steve kisses the top of his head, "You feeling okay?"
"I want to go home," Eddie says, and he does. He just wants to go home. He's tired of being poked and prodded.
"Soon," Steve assures, which Eddie thinks he's saying just to placate him.
"Don't leave me," he says, reaching for Steve's hand.
"I won't, honey. I'll be right here."
"Where's Ellie?"
"She took Wayne down to eat dinner. They'll be back soon, I'm sure."
He hasn't gotten to see her much, he's just been so tired. He's missed her since she went to school.
2021
"Dad!" Ellie screams and Eddie wheels around the corner.
"What?!" he asks, looking around, a little frantic at her tone.
She points at Steve, "Make it stop!"
Yeah, we fancy like Applebee's
on a date night
Got that Bourbon Street steak
with the Oreo shake
Eddie laughs, "You're the one that set up TikTok for him, kiddo. Make better choices."
"Dad!"
Steve beckons Eddie, shimmies his hips backwards and Eddie doesn't know any of these dance moves, but he starts dancing with Steve anyway. Being as embarrassing as possible.
Ellie storms off towards her room, leaving them both laughing.
"You've never drank a Natty in your life," Eddie laughs.
"Because you still want to drink Miller like we're teens and can't afford a nice IPA."
"I don't like craft beer," Eddie argues, "and you like Miller High Life, not me!"
"That is not true!" Steve argues.
"That's what you brought me at Reefer Rick's!"
"That's what you asked for!"
"I asked for a six pack. I got what you picked out! You think I, Eddie Munson, picked the champagne of beers as my go-to as a kid? That screams Steve Harrington."
Steve looks shocked, "Have we seriously been drinking a beer for our entire adult lives that neither one of us actually prefers? Eddie!"
Eddie laughs, "Oops. I don’t dislike it."
Eddie is still laughing as he changes the music, and gives Steve his hand, and they start dancing more at their own speed.
“What kind of beer do you actually like?” Eddie asks, giving Steve a spin.
“How the fuck should I know?! We’ve only been buying Miller for thirty-five years,” Steve says, giggling as he spins, “maybe I love Natty.”
“You won’t love Natty,” Eddie assures.
“Robin usually has those Michelob Infusions in her fridge. I like those,” Steve says, “and I don’t dislike Miller either, but we could have branched out, tried something new.”
“We aren’t dead yet, we can still try something new,” Eddie teases.
Eddie isn't sure how long they've been at it, when he catches Ellie watching from the kitchen.
He holds out his hand, and she comes over and takes it, letting both of her old dads take turns spinning her around the living room with practiced ease.
How did their baby grow up so fast? He swears she was just an infant only yesterday.
2004
"Where are we going to take her trick-or-treating? We live in the woods!"
Steve is worked up about this and Eddie isn't sure why.
"Well, she's an infant, so I don't think it matters."
Steve gives him a look that tells him it definitely matters.
"I want to show off our baby!"
"To strangers? They aren't going to give a shit about a random baby in another pumpkin costume."
"That's rude," Steve says, "and she's not going to be a pumpkin!"
"We'll dress her up and take pictures to email to everyone we know. They'll all ooh and ahh appropriately."
"They better," Steve says, through nearly gritted teeth. Apparently this is serious business.
Eddie sends out a preemptive email first, warning everyone that they better make a fuss, because Mama Harrington is in a tizzy.
He gets confirmation back from almost everyone that they'll be sufficiently impressed when the real email and pictures arrive.
2016
"Are you sure she's old enough to leave for over a week?" Steve asks, worrying as he's packing his suitcase.
"Yes. She's eleven. That's old enough to go to Hogwarts," Eddie teases.
Steve doesn't even laugh. Eddie thinks he's hilarious and Steve needs to appreciate that more.
"But, what if she misses us? What if something happens? We can't just rush home. It's a boat, Eddie."
"You're the one that planned this vacation, Harrington," Eddie laughs.
And Steve had. For Eddie's fiftieth birthday Steve had surprised him with an Alaskan cruise. So Eddie could finally see all the beautiful National Parks there. Apparently in January it was a great idea, now come summer, Steve clearly has cold feet.
Eddie is excited, he's been to most of the Parks, either for work or pleasure, but not the ones in Alaska. Most of them you have to get to by boat or plane, and he's never made the time.
They've never been to Alaska at all, so they'll finally cross that last state off their list. They had always focused on Hawaii, but Alaska was always still there, waiting.
"She'll be fine, sweetheart. Robin and Penny will have it under control."
Steve
2023
Steve is startled awake, jumping to nearly standing. Ellie had touched his shoulder.
“What?” he says, and realizes his hearing aids are dead.
Eddie says something to him, but it just looks like he's mouthing something Steve can't understand.
"I can't hear you, my batteries are dead," he tells Eddie, "Ells, what's your dad saying?"
"He's hungry," she says loudly, clearly, right to his face. He hates that she knows she has to do that now.
"Okay," he answers, his heart beating hard and fast, he thought something was wrong. "We'll get you something. Can you do that?" he asks Ellie and she nods. He can't do it, he can’t hear shit right now.
He needs to find new batteries. He sends Robin a message to please try and find him some. Sends her a picture of them, so she knows what to get.
She'd texts back immediately, "Already got you some. On my way up. In the parking garage now."
He doesn't know how she knew what kind to get, but he's grateful he doesn't have to worry about it. He's worried enough as it is.
Nancy had told him Eddie had panicked a bit while he was gone, and he's mad at himself that he left him, even if Eddie had insisted. It was too soon.
He's not leaving this room again until Eddie does. He has Ellie bring him food from the cafeteria and there's a couch and a shower in the private bathroom, so he's set.
He hadn't packed them bags when he left the house, it never crossed his mind, so he sent Robin with his credit card to just buy them both some clothes and toiletries.
But he forgot the batteries. She didn't.
Steve holds Eddie's face. He can't really talk to him right now, but he can assure him he's still here.
"I'm here," he tells Eddie.
Eddie smiles and points to his own chest and then taps his temple. I know.
They don't know much sign language, beyond the couple dozen signs they taught and used with Ellie as baby, on Dustin's recommendation. Meg had taught their boys and it really had been a damn good idea. Ellie could tell them what she needed, long before she could talk.
Robin comes in a few minutes later and drops several bags on the couch.
"Thanks, Rob."
He doesn't hear her, but he's pretty sure she says, "No problem, dingus."
He digs through them and she did a good job, she bought him a couple books, and even a pair of bone conducting headphones. Eddie had gotten him a pair a couple years ago after he got his hearing aids and they were like magic. It'll be nice to be able to watch stuff on his phone and not bother Eddie while he's sleeping. He's not sure how many days they'll be here.
He puts the new batteries in and is suddenly flooded with the sounds of Eddie and Robin bantering back and forth.
He smiles.
Ellie comes back with a tray and Eddie says thanks, but doesn't look thrilled.
"They said this is what you could have!" she says, defending herself, "What did you think I would bring back for you, a fucking steak?"
Steve turns away, so Eddie doesn't see him laughing.
"Language! Do I need to wash your mouth out with soap?" Eddie says, and that makes Steve laugh more. As if either one of them would ever. Eddie is the softest parent to ever live. Plus, she's an adult and their kid, so he's not sure Eddie has a fucking leg to stand on about cussing like a sailor.
"I'd like to see you try. And are you serious, right now? Every dirty word I know I learned from the two of you," she says, unwrapping his plastic silverware for him.
"Brat," he mutters, but smiles at her.
"Goddamn right. Now, do I need to feed you, or do you have it under control?"
He takes the fork from her and pokes at the salad.
She leans over and kisses him on the head, "Eat this so you'll be here until the end of time."
"Fine. Just for you, girly. Filthy mouth and all."
Steve sits down next to Eddie, and realizes they are going to have to overhaul their entire diet. Eddie is not going to be happy about it, but Steve's going to do everything he can to keep him alive and kicking.
Steve spends the next couple days not getting very far from Eddie's bedside.
"Want to go eat?" Robin asks, and Steve looks up from his book.
"I'm good, but you go ahead," he offers, glancing over at Eddie next to him, asleep.
Robin nods, and he appreciates that she doesn't give him shit for hovering over Eddie.
Eddie has been pretty clear he doesn't like it when Steve isn't here, so staying close is the least he can do. He doesn't want to stress Eddie out for no good reason.
"This book is great. You did good, Buckley," he says, smiling.
"I wasn't sure if you'd already read it or not."
"I haven't," he tells her, "really, go eat. I'm okay here."
"Okay, I'll bring you something."
"Thanks, Rob."
He goes back to reading.
Eventually Eddie wakes up, "Are you reading a book, Harrington? With pages? Are you out of Audible credits, and none of your library audiobook holds are ready, or what?"
Steve grins, "You're seeing things. Put your glasses on."
"Read it to me," Eddie demands, settling back against his pillow.
"I'm not sure this is your kind of book," Steve laughs, flashing him the cover of When the Game Was Ours by Larry Bird and Magic Johnson.
"I remember you reading Magic's first book, when it seemed certain he had a death sentence from HIV," Eddie says.
Steve remembers that, too. And how big of a deal it was for Magic to play on The Dream Team in 1992.
Those were scary times, even if they'd stayed a little insulated from it, just by the sheer luck that they had found each other so young and had committed to being monogamous.
Steve hadn't missed the fact that he is reading this in San Francisco, where Eddie had first educated him, all those years ago.
Things have changed so much. He's been working on the project here in San Francisco to find ways to make PrEP free, or close to free, for years. San Francisco, as always, had been ahead of most everyone else. Now that there's a government program in place as well, not just the city one, he's shifted to helping anyone else who can qualify, sign up, no matter where they are located.
A day doesn't go by that he doesn't feel grateful that Robin believed in him enough to think he could make a difference and help others.
The pay isn't even what he made managing the pro shop, but it is much more fulfilling. And he's never taken issue with Eddie being the higher wage earner. Eddie has never seemed to care either. When they discussed Steve leaving the pro shop, or taking the outreach position, Steve would fret about not pulling his weight, financially. Eddie would always argue that Steve put him through college, so this has always, and will always, be an equal partnership.
"Earth to Steve," Eddie says and Steve realizes Eddie has been talking.
"Sorry, honey, what was that?"
"Where were you?" Eddie asks, smiling at him.
"I was thinking about Magic and HIV and San Francisco and you and my work, and just how it all dovetailed together."
Eddie smiles at him, "That's my husband. Out there changing the world."
Steve laughs, "I think that's overselling me."
"Not possible," Eddie answers, "now read to me, I can handle a little sports talk."
Steve laughs, but scoots closer to Eddie's bed, and starts reading to him.
Eddie
2023
Eddie is thrilled to finally be released from the hospital.
Steve tries to load him in the car, like he can't do it himself, and Eddie tries to be grateful instead of annoyed. Steve loves him, he's never doubted that, but seeing him this week showed him just how much. Steve hardly left his side.
So, Eddie knows he's lucky. Incredibly lucky. To be alive. To have the friends he has, that all these years later, will still drop everything and run when something goes wrong. And to have Steve, still mothering him, still loving him, nearly forty years later.
"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says as Steve reaches over him to buckle his seat belt, which he actually probably did need help with, with his broken arm.
They said it would definitely take longer to recover from the fucked up arm than the stent, which sucks.
They'd sent Ellie back to school yesterday, flying back out with Robin. He's going to miss her like crazy, but he doesn't necessarily want her to see him so down and out, either.
He's ready to go home.
Steve
3 Months Later
"No, sir. I'm traumatized. I almost fucked you to death the last time," Steve says, holding Eddie's shoulder at an arms length.
"You sure think awfully highly of your sexual prowess, Harrington," Eddie teases.
"You think it's a coincidence we had that kind of sex and two hours later you're having a massive heart attack and falling to your near death?"
It had been some top notch fucking for two old men, Steve will admit.
"At least I would have gone out really satisfied," Eddie teases. "C'mon, sweetheart. The heart doctor released me. My dick works on its own again and everything."
"I'm still pretty mad at your regular doctor for not making the connection that your dick not working right might be due to, I don't know, a major blockage. No, instead he was just: Here, have some boner pills. Have fun."
"Well, we did have fun," Eddie argues, "I could have hammered nails," Eddie laughs.
"Yes, you nearly dying was a lot of fun for me," Steve says, deadpan, “but at least your dick was really hard before you croaked.”
"C'mon, Harrington, let me rock your world."
"Ew, that doesn't help your case."
They've never gone this long without sex, not even the year they lived apart. So, Steve gets it. He does. But he's scared.
"We should take the leftovers recreationally," Eddie suggests, raising his eyebrows at Steve, "I still even have some of the Viagra. We could be raring to go in like, an hour."
"That gave you a headache from hell, in case you've forgotten. We are almost sixty years old and you want to, what? Give us both migraines while getting our dicks hard enough to kill us both?"
"Hell yeah!"
"Yeah, no, we won't be doing that."
"You're no fun, Harrington."
"I think I've heard that before."
"Steve," Eddie says, crowding up against him, "I have a present for you."
"I think you've given me that exact same thing many times before."
Eddie laughs, "Will you at least suck my dick?"
Steve looks at him, taken aback. Eddie has never been that forward, verbally, about sex. Steve's dick responds, immediately.
"What?" Eddie asks, clearly self-conscious now. Why, Steve has no idea, because there's nothing they can't ask of each other at this point.
"Nothing, I was thinking about the first time I did that," Steve teases. "You came on my face."
Steve reaches for Eddie's belt, "If I get on my knees for you, are you going to help me get back up?"
"As much as the image of you on your knees is working for me, let's just get in bed and be comfortable, yeah?"
"You lay still and I'll do all the work," Steve orders.
"Deal," Eddie agrees. But Steve knows Eddie plans to take control as soon as he can. Steve isn't new here.
"I mean it, you don't need to be putting your full weight on your arm yet."
"My PT has cleared me for that, thank you very much. Now we're just focused on the stiffness."
"That's what she said," Steve teases, channeling his best Michael Scott.
Eddie nudges him towards the bed, "Or, how 'bout you just lay here at the edge?"
Steve nods, that is about as good of a compromise as he could hope for. One of their first big splurges once they had some disposable income was having a bed frame custom built to the perfect height for Eddie to stand next to while they have sex. It was worth every damn penny.
"If you feel anything weird, you better stop and say so," Steve warns.
"Yes, dear," Eddie assures.
He tugs at Steve's belt, "Can I eat you out? Apparently all the cool kids are doing it."
Steve is a little scared he might prove that an old man can, in fact, still come untouched in his pants.
"Goddamn, Eddie. Give a guy some warning."
Eddie laughs, tickled, "Well?"
"Let's save that for a time when I've just showered," Steve says, "but I appreciate you thinking with your dick."
"Horny wants what horny wants," he says, "and trust me, it wants everything."
"It can have everything," Steve assures, laughing.
"Oh shit," Eddie says, "this is so hot, sweetheart. My dick is so hard for you right now," he adds, rubbing himself through his jeans, "Feel how hard I am," he says, dragging Steve's hand to his crotch, "I want to bend you over."
Steve's wanted Eddie to talk dirty to him for almost forty years, apparently it just took a heart attack and three months of celibacy to pull him out of his shell. He knows Eddie must be feeling immense relief that he can get an erection on his own again.
"Fuck, Eddie, yes. Do that," Steve says cupping Eddie through his jeans, stroking his entire length, "you feel so good."
"Not literally bend you over, you know what I mean," Eddie clarifies, but Steve thinks he'd be totally on board with it, if that's really what Eddie wants. He trusts Eddie to do anything to him.
"You can. I want you to," Steve says, laying back, "fuck, I really want you to, Eddie." He doesn't know what's gotten into him, that's not even on the menu, but the idea is really turning him on. He wants Eddie to manhandle him.
Eddie's still rubbing himself and Steve's pretty sure they aren't going to get very far if he keeps that up.
Steve giggles and pulls Eddie on top of him. Eddie grinds down against him and it feels so good. They could just rub off on each other, fully dressed, and Steve thinks it would be top five times worthy, easy.
The sexual electricity is hitting every nerve in Steve's body, still, maybe more so, after all these years.
"Oh shit, yes, honey, right there," and Eddie rolls his hips over and over until Steve comes.
"Fuck," Eddie moans against his neck and follows him over the edge.
Steve is giggling, he can't stop, "Dry humping like we're horny, fumbling teenagers."
"Sorry, I think I made some big promises I failed to deliver on just now."
Steve kisses him, "You delivered just fine. I have no complaints, honey. That was so good. We need a shower, and to do some laundry," Steve laughs, "but, goddamn. Ten out of ten, would do again."
Eddie laughs and kisses him.
They'd already been enjoying a sex renaissance now that they have an empty nest, and Steve is pretty sure that's just gonna get even more out of hand now that Eddie feels better.
He's definitely not mad about that.
2024
They don't have three months, but they do have three weeks over Ellie’s summer break.
Steve is sitting in the driver's seat, Ellie at his side, Eddie purposefully kneeing Steve in the back from behind him in the backseat.
Steve ignores it. Eddie will stop if he doesn't get attention for doing it, like a child.
Steve drops a brand new atlas in her lap.
"What's this?" she asks.
"A map, you tell us where you want to go and how we'll get there," Steve answers.
"Is that not what my phone is for?"
Eddie laughs in the backseat, "Told you so."
"At least look at it, then we can use the phone for the actual navigation," he concedes.
"Fine," she huffs, "are we sure this car is safe to drive out of the yard?"
"You're a brat," Steve says, but he smiles.
Eddie had an actual mechanic give the BMW a full inspection, and it got the seal of approval. She knows this, she's just a little smartass. It's genetic on both sides. She can't help it.
"Where's the auxiliary port?"
Steve laughs and laughs, "Oh, honey. This car takes cassette tapes only."
Eddie pops up from the back and hands her a little device, "For the cigarette lighter."
"Cigarette lighter?" she asks, looking at him like he's crazy.
They both laugh, "Where you plug in your cell phone charger."
She plugs in the Bluetooth FM transmitter and Eddie helps her get it set up so she can play music from her phone through the car radio.
Steve watches her open the atlas, and flip to California.
“Where to, kid?”
“Indiana,” she says, “I want to see Papa Wayne.”
Steve sees Eddie grin in the rear view mirror, and he's not sure if Ellie is doing it for herself or for Eddie, but he's pleased with her choice.
"Okay, give me directions," he tells her and he watches her look at the map. He's not totally convinced she knows how to read it.
"101 South?" she says, and it sounds a little unsure.
"101 South," Steve confirms, and heads off in the direction of Eddie's trees.
Eddie
“Did you have sex with Aunt Robin?” Ellie asks, and Eddie barks out a laugh that he’s worried will wake up Steve even though he’s sound asleep in the back, hearing aids out. Steve doesn’t even stir. The fact that he trusts Eddie to drive while he can’t hear a damn thing, makes Eddie feel fiercely protective and very loved at the same time.
“Okay, so that’s a no,” she laughs, “I didn’t think so, but you guys never said.”
“Absolutely not, turkey baster all the way, kid,” he laughs.
“Gross,” she says.
“Hey, you’re the one that asked,” he laughs.
“Why you, and not Dad? Aren’t they best friends, since forever? Not that I’m complaining, I wouldn’t be me, but?”
“That was your Dad’s doing. He wanted you to be half of each of the two people he loves most in the world.”
“Did you ever consider doing it again, but with him?”
“No, we were getting old, kiddo. You were a freaking miracle. A gift. Aunt Robin really is the hero of this story, she made you happen.”
“Did you not consider adopting?” Eddie looks in the rearview mirror at Steve, not sure if he's willing him to wake up or stay asleep for this.
“We tried. A few times. It didn’t ever work out. We brought a baby home, for a week. Seth Wayne. He had the chubbiest cheeks of any newborn baby I've ever seen in my whole life. But his birth mother changed her mind," he tells her.
"Oh," she says, soft.
"That's good for him, we weren't trying to take a wanted baby from his mother, you know? Uncle Dustin wanted us to put up a legal fight, but that wasn't something we at all felt comfortable doing. But that was the last time we tried to adopt, too. We couldn't go through that again. We probably should have pursued older kids and not an infant, that was our fault for not thinking outside the box. But, honestly, there are no regrets, we like to believe we were just meant to wait for you.”
"I didn't know that," she says softly.
"It was really hard, sad. Your dad never wanted to dwell on it, after. It happened, it hurt, but we got you. So we won," Eddie says, smiling at her.
"It was really Aunt Robin's idea?"
"For sure. Your dad was so scared it would ruin their relationship. It only made it stronger, closer, which believe me, I don't understand how that could even be possible. They were thick as thieves already. They were a package deal from the moment I met them."
"I'm glad I’m near her at school," she says and Eddie smiles.
"We're happy about that, too. I think it's the only thing keeping your dad from packing up and following you out east."
"Please no," she teases. But Eddie knows how much she loves Steve, how much she misses him while she's gone. Steve's always been her favorite, he's pretty sure, and he's okay with that.
"Were you scared Aunt Robin would change her mind?"
"No. I wasn't. She didn't want kids, she was pretty adamant about that, even from when she was really young. I hope that doesn't make you feel weird. You were definitely wanted, baby, by all of us. Don't question that."
"I don't feel weird about that. I feel loved. She wanted me to exist so much that she went against her own instincts. I think that's love, if there ever was," she tells him and Eddie swallows the lump that's suddenly in his throat. He's never thought about it like that.
"When you'd get so wise?" he asks, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder.
She laughs, "I was born this way."
"Sure you were," he teases.
"She's loved me my whole life. I know that. And I Iove her. She doesn't feel like she's my mom, but she's really important to me, more than my other aunt and uncles, if that makes sense."
"For sure, it does."
"She really loves Dad. You too, of course. And I knew that, but I didn't understand how much until you had your heart attack. With you out of commission, she was his rock. They say any port in a storm, but that's bullshit. Everyone else was second-string, at best, compared to her. She didn't need to be told to do anything, she'd have already done it. It's like she could read his mind. It was really something to see."
"That bond was forged in fire when they were teenagers. There's nothing that can shake it. They're soulmates."
"You think Aunt Robin is Dad's soulmate, not you?"
"For sure. I'm the love of his life, I don't question that. But soulmates? No."
"She's good in a crisis. That seems like it wouldn't be true," she laughs, "but she was on top of everything."
Eddie smiles. Robin is still clumsy, but she's not anywhere near incapable. There was a time in the nineties when Eddie was absolutely convinced she was undercover with the CIA. When Alias came out, he pointed to it as proof and Steve just laughed and laughed. But never, actually, technically, denied it. She works for a bank, and travels the world, using all the languages she's learned.
He was sure they had their own Sydney Bristow in their midst and Steve was just keeping it from him.
He was only convinced that she wasn't after she got pregnant with Ellie. She continued to travel, at least early on to tie up loose ends, and he knows, without any doubt, she never would have done that if there was any actual danger to her job.
Eddie finally had to accept that she only does boring bank stuff, and he just has a wild imagination.
"Where are we now?" Steve all but yells, getting louder with every word, as he snaps awake.
Eddie and Ellie both, on reflex, tap their ears, telling him he's screaming and that he needs to turn his ears on. He does.
"Sorry," he says, much quieter, "where are we?"
"Outside of Salt Lake City," Eddie answers.
Steve
Eddie is sitting next to him, thumbing through the atlas. Steve had turned off the Google Maps directions when Eddie climbed in beside him at the last pitstop. Steve didn't need GPS, he just needs Eddie.
Steve swallows the lump in his throat.
Ellie is in the backseat, asleep.
Steve looks at Eddie again.
"What?" Eddie asks with a smile.
"Thanks for getting me to go on that road trip, back then," Steve says, squeezing Eddie's thigh.
"It was a really good idea," Eddie teases, "I'm full of great ideas, Harrington."
Eddie is teasing. Steve's not.
"It was the start of my whole life," Steve answers.
"Mine too, sweetheart."
Steve sees Joyce in the yard, watering her flowerbed and reaches over to honk the horn while Ellie pulls them into the driveway.
"Oh my god," Joyce says as Steve hops out and starts towards her, "seeing that car pull up is like I went back thirty-five years! Did you drive it all the way here?"
Steve starts to answer, but she's turning to scream towards the garage, "Hop! The boys are here!"
"Which boys?!" Hopper yells back, muffled, which Steve thinks is a fair question. There are a lot of boys in their life.
All Steve can see is Hopper's legs, he's slid under his pickup, tinkering. He's over eighty, so Steve is pretty sure he has no business being under there, but if Joyce hasn't been able to put a stop to it, there's no way he's going to listen to anyone else.
Ellie runs over and shakes his pant leg, yelling his way, "Hey, Pop!"
Hopper slides out, she carefully helps him to his feet and he grabs her into a big hug.
She's their only girl. Everyone had boys, so many boys. It was ridiculous. The baby betting pool on her was insane. Nobody wanted to bet on her being a girl, not after being burned so many times before, but the payout was off the charts.
Eddie took that bet, and won it. He said he just knew she was a girl. Dustin accused him of cheating, but they really hadn't. They waited until she was born, for one last surprise.
She's the baby of all the grandkids. The last. And now she's all grown up, too.
Hopper grabs Eddie next, hugging him tight, "You still okay? After last year?"
"I'm okay," Eddie assures, hugging him back.
Steve would have never dreamed that Hopper would end up loving Eddie as much as he does. At first, he's pretty sure Eddie was just tolerated, because anybody that made Steve happy was golden to Joyce. And Hopper followed Joyce's directives on the matter.
But the years went by, and Hopper more than came around.
"You scared us, you're too young to be pulling that kind of shit."
Eddie turns to look at Steve, "Hear that? He called me young, I knew I loved him the most," Eddie laughs, as Joyce ushers them all inside.
They are both so independent at their ages that it makes Steve grateful. He knows they, nor Wayne, will be here forever. So he just has to love them while they are still lucky enough to have them here and healthy.
He doesn't know what the fuck he would have done with Wayne if he had outlived Eddie. He's not sure Wayne would have survived it. Steve thinks he would have moved home to Hawkins to be near Wayne, so they could have navigated the loss together. He's eternally grateful that Eddie is still here. For Wayne's sake. For Ellie's.
For his own, especially.
They spend a week in Indiana, seeing all the grandparents, and family still in the area, and she lets her old dads show her all the important places from their childhoods. Again. She's seen it all before, but doesn't complain too much. She's a good kid, and only grumbles a little when they make her take a picture of them kissing by Skull Rock.
Steve doesn't blame her for not wanting to hear about, or see, her dad's old make out spot.
But when he sees this place now, Steve pictures Eddie, scared and dirty, hiding and just wanted to take the place back, to mark over it with a better memory.
Steve likes sleeping in their bed here at Wayne's. He always sleeps really well under Wayne's roof. The bed might not be as comfortable or as big as their bed at home, but it brings back so many good memories of that time in their lives when they were deciding what comes next.
Steve had no idea back then what their life together would be, but he thinks this is better than anything he could have dreamed up.
Eddie sits with Wayne and Ellie at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and playing today's Wordle. Like most of the rest of the world, Steve gave up long, long ago. But these three are still battling it out every morning.
Eddie is cackling, loudly. He must have won today. They all copy and paste their scores into the group chat, like they're not sitting right next to each other.
Steve's phone ding, ding, dings in his pocket, notifying him of the scores.
When the week is over, much too quickly, they hit the city limits of Hawkins, and they are headed home, just like they were in 1987.
Lots of things have changed in nearly forty years, but their love definitely isn't one of them.
Steve watches Ellie drive them out of town and can't believe that's about how old they were when they were brave enough to just pack up and move across the country to start a brand new life. It was the best decision Steve ever made. Well, second best.
The best was agreeing to go on a road trip with that freak, Eddie Munson.
He turns in his seat and looks at Eddie sitting in the backseat.
"What?" Eddie asks, confused.
Steve reaches for his hand and Eddie gives it to him, warily. Steve pulls it to his mouth and kisses it. Eddie laughs. He loves that laugh.
"I just love you, that's all."
"Gross," Ellie chimes in, but she's smiling, just a little.
Eddie stretches as far as his seatbelt will let him and just manages to brush his lips against Steve's, "Love you too, sweetheart."
"Why don't you just get back there with him? If you can't stand to be away from him for ten minutes," Ellie snarks.
"Pull over and I will," Steve banters back.
"No! You're too old to act like this, by the way. Worse than teenagers. It's disgusting."
"It's love," Steve counters.
"None of my friends have parents that act like this."
"Sad for them," Eddie says.
"You're impossible. Both of you. Don't make me mix saltpeter into your Ensure."
Eddie throws his head back and laughs like crazy, "Jesus Christ, kid. Where did you even hear that word?"
"Pop Hop," she laughs, "from his military stories."
"Oh my," Eddie laughs, "well, it's not even true that it worked for tamping libido. I read an articl-"
Steve cuts him off, looking at Ellie, "Look what you've done, now we have to learn."
Ellie laughs and she looks just like Eddie. And Robin. And somehow, a little like him, too. Like she's picked up his mannerisms, without any of his DNA in the mix.
"Have we been bad dads to have?" he asks, and she cuts him a look, like he's an idiot. That's a Robin look, if he's ever seen one. If she called him dingus right now, he doesn't think he'd be surprised.
"Don't be an idiot," she says.
"You sound like your dad," he grumbles.
"Well, don't be an idiot and we won't have to say that," Eddie pipes up.
Steve turns to look at him, "You love me."
"More than you know," Eddie answers and Ellie makes gagging noises.
Steve knows they are still in an extra lovey phase with each other since Eddie nearly died, but if he's honest, they've always been a little like this. Brush with death not required.
Steve hands Eddie the atlas. “Ellie will drive, you navigate,” Steve says, handing the route planning over to Eddie, once again, just like he did all those years ago. “I’ll let you both know if I have any special requests.”
Eddie smiles, flipping it open.
Steve watches him, and smiles. He doesn't care how they get there, because he knows that Eddie hasn't steered him wrong yet in this life they've built together.
"Head west, kid," Eddie tells her, then smiles at Steve, "let's go home."
Steve smiles back.
He looks at Eddie, at Ellie. He looks at this car, and runs his hand over the soft, leather seat.
He is already home.
End
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! Whether you found this while it was still a work in process or after it was finished. (I'm also a filter by complete, so I see you, haha.)
Not a doctor! So, take no medical advice from me. I wrote Eddie’s heart attack loosely based on what Kevin Smith has described with his heart attack experience. Instead of, say, Bob Odenkirk’s much more dramatic one. They both had fully, or nearly-fully blocked LAD’s. Just like Eddie. Bob Odenkirk suffered cardiac arrest for 18 minutes. Kevin Smith didn’t arrest at all.
The regulations I found for the NPS uniform were probably written after 1987. So it very well may have differed, back then. But I wanted Eddie to cut his hair on his own timeline. So I didn't go looking at poking holes in it, too much, lol.
Yes, I gave Eddie the same birthday as Dean Winchester. Eddie’s just 13 years older. I will say, making Eddie’s birthday at the start of the year and Steve’s at the end, really helped keep straight how old they were in each section. Unless it was happening really early in the year, or really late, it was much easier to calculate how old they were in each part.
I actually like DMB just fine. But I knew someone that felt that way about them in the 90s, and it truly put them in a bad mood, and that just stuck with me, lol.
Wiki on The Lavender Scare.
Steve doing Fancy Like was definitely inspired by Jensen Ackles doing it at cons. Even hot dads are embarrassing to their kids, haha. “I pay attention. I know it. I’m…I’m…I’m hip.” LOL.
San Francisco AIDS Foundation and Ready, Set, PrEP have both made it possible to bring the cost of this drug down to as low as free in the US.
2016 was the year that GLAAD recommended adding the Q in LGBTQ. And now it looks a little outdated written that way now!
Perhaps the greatest relay leg of all time, swam by Jason Lezak in Beijing in 2008. Steve was right to get all excitable. Eddie just doesn't understand! ;)
Snopes on saltpeter.
Marriage licenses were issued in California from June 16, 2008 to November 5, 2008. Then Prop 8 passed. On May 26, 2009 the California Supreme Court upheld Prop 8, but did not overturn previous same-sex marriages which occurred between those dates. Eddie and Steve’s marriage would have stayed legal.
Photo credits: NPS law enforcement vehicle from RedwoodNPS on Twitter. Control burn from Fire Adapted Communities. Gilley Girls from the Gilley’s Twitter. Frilly dress from Kids Dream US. Park Ranger from More Than Just Parks. Broken glass from Maids.com. Steve’s Subaru from Kelley Blue Book. Keens from their official site. Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center from Google Maps. Fake podcast uses a screenshot from the Chuck opening credits. Teen Ellie is Maya from the 2017 All Saints campaign. Adult Robin is her mom, Uma Thurman in Stephen-F. Eddie’s haircut is Joseph for SID. House is from AirBnB. Hamilton from New York Times.
Chapter 22: Appendix
Chapter Text
1986 Road Trip Map
Google Maps will only let you plot 10 points at once, and even using the MoreThan10 site, I was only able to string 20 together. So I just had to stitch several maps together. So this isn't perfect but it is a very good representation of their route. I used Renner, IN as the location of Hawkins, based off of a map in the official companion book, Worlds Turned Upside Down. Renner sits a little to the east of where Hawkins should be, maybe 10-15 miles.
Day-By-Day Trip from Sept 26th, 1986 to December 24th, 1986 - 90 Days
Day 01: Sept 26 - Hawkins to Detroit to Toronto to Niagara Falls, NY - 527 Miles
Day 02: Sept 27 - Niagara to Henderson, NY to Manchester Center, VT - 450 Miles
Day 03: Sept 28 - Manchester Center, VT to York, ME to Boston, MA - 229 Miles
Day 04: Sept 29 - Boston to Providence, RI to NYC - 232 Miles
Day 05: Sept 30 - NYC
Day 06: Oct 1 - NYC
Day 07: Oct 2 - NYC
Day 08: Oct 3 - NYC
Day 09: Oct 4 - NYC to Atlantic City, NJ - 127 Miles
Day 10: Oct 5 - Atlantic City to Philly to D.C. to Henderson, MD to Harrington, DE to Bethany Beach, DE - 347 Miles
Day 11: Oct 6 - Bethany Beach to Virginia Beach, VA to Wilmington NC - 408 Miles
Day 12: Oct 7 - Wilmington to Myrtle Beach, SC - 78 Miles
Day 13: Oct 8 - Myrtle Beach to Hendersonville, SC to Savannah, GA - 232 Miles
Day 14: Oct 9 - Savannah to Jacksonville, FL to Henderson, GA - 372 Miles
Day 15: Oct 10 - Henderson GA to Henderson, MS - 374 Miles
Day 16: Oct 11 - Henderson MS to New Orleans, LA - 152 Miles
Day 17: Oct 12 - New Orleans
Day 18: Oct 13 - New Orleans to Henderson, LA to Henderson, TX - 398 Miles
Day 19: Oct 14 - Henderson, TX to Henderson, AR - 258 Miles
Day 20: Oct 15 - Henderson, AR to Branson, MO - 316 Miles
Day 21: Oct 16 - Branson
Day 22: Oct 17 - Branson to Henderson, MO to Sikeston, MO - 264 Miles
Day 23: Oct 18 - Sikeston, MO to London, KY - 359 Miles
Day 24: Oct 19 - London to Rocky Top, TN to Hendersonville, TN to Land Between the Lakes, KY to Memphis, TN - 542 Miles
Day 25: Oct 20 - Memphis to Hot Springs, AR - 188 Miles
Day 26: Oct 21 - Hot Springs to Dallas, Texas - 286 Miles
Day 27: Oct 22 - State Fair of Texas
Day 28: Oct 23 - Dallas
Day 29: Oct 24 - Dallas to Amarillo, TX - 365 Miles
Day 30: Oct 25 - Amarillo to Roswell, NM - 215 Miles
Day 31: Oct 26 - Roswell to Weed, NM to Truth & Consequences, NM - 286 Miles
Day 32: Oct 27 - Truth or Consequences to Alpine, AZ to Springerville, AZ - 262 Miles
Day 33: Oct 28 - Springerville
Day 34: Oct 29 - Springerville
Day 35: Oct 30 - Springerville
Day 36: Oct 31 - Springerville, AZ to Albuquerque, NM to Four Corners Monument, NM to Red Mesa - 500 Miles
Day 37: Nov 1 - Red Mesa through Petrified Forest to Winslow, AZ - 231 Miles
Day 38: Nov 2 - Winslow, AZ to Grand Canyon West - 270 Miles
Day 39: Nov 3 - Grand Canyon to Henderson, NV to Las Vegas - 125 Miles
Day 40: Nov 4 - Las Vegas
Day 41: Nov 5 - Las Vegas to Winterhaven, CA - 292 Miles
Day 42: Nov 6 - Winterhaven to Los Algodones to Blythe to Lenora Hills to LA - 275 Mi
Day 43: Nov 7 - LA
Day 44: Nov 8 - LA
Day 45: Nov 9 - LA to Anaheim - 26 Miles
Day 46: Nov 10 - Anaheim up PCH to Ventura, Venice, Malibu, Sunnydale, Santa Barbara - 127 Miles
Day 47: Nov 11 - Santa Barbara to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks - 279 Miles
Day 48: Nov 12 - Sequoia
Day 49: Nov 13 - Kings Canyon
Day 50: Nov 14 - Three Rivers, CA (Through Cambria) to Big Sur, CA - 260 Miles
Day 51: Nov 15 - Big Sur
Day 52: Nov 16 - Big Sur to Henderson, CA to San Francisco, CA - 149 Miles
Day 53: Nov 17 - San Francisco
Day 54: Nov 18 - San Francisco
Day 55: Nov 19 - San Francisco
Day 56: Nov 20 - San Francisco
Day 57: Nov 21 - San Francisco
Day 58: Nov 22 - San Francisco to Glass Beach to Chandelier Tree to Shrine Tree to Myers Flat, CA - 263 Miles
Day 59: Nov 23 - Myers Flat to Klamath Tour Thru Tree to Crater Lake, OR - 320 Miles
Day 60: Nov 24 - Crater Lake to Seattle, WA - 429 Miles
Day 61: Nov 25 - Seattle
Day 62: Nov 26 - Seattle
Day 63: Nov 27 - Seattle (Thanksgiving)
Day 64: Nov 28 - Seattle to Big Arm, MT - 485 Miles
Day 65: Nov 29 - Big Arm
Day 66: Nov 30 - Big Arm (Steve’s B-Day)
Day 67: Dec 1 - Big Arm to Salmon-Challis National Forest, ID - 244 Miles
Day 68: Dec 2 - National Forest to Yellowstone National Park, WY - 337
Day 69: Dec 3 - Yellowstone
Day 70: Dec 4 - Yellowstone
Day 71: Dec 5 - Yellowstone to Grand Teton National Park - 30 Miles
Day 72: Dec 6 - Grand Teton
Day 73: Dec 7 - Grand Teton to Deadwood, SD to Sturgis, SD - 489 Miles
Day 74: Dec 8 - Sturgis to Mt Rushmore to Estes Park, CO - 404 Miles
Day 75: Dec 9 - Estes Park, CO
Day 76: Dec 10 - Estes Park to Colorado Springs, CO - 133 Miles
Day 77: Dec 11 - Colorado Springs
Day 78: Dec 12 - Colorado Springs, CO to Holcomb, KS to Dodge City, KS - 313 Miles
Day 79: Dec 13 - Dodge City to Kinsley, KS to Kansas City, MO - 336 Miles
Day 80: Dec 14 - Kansas City
Day 81: Dec 15 - Kansas City to Sioux Falls, SD - 360 Miles
Day 82: Dec 16 - Sioux Falls to Fargo, ND to Minneapolis, MN - 478 Miles
Day 83: Dec 17 - Minneapolis
Day 84: Dec 18 - Minneapolis to Madison, WI - 269 Miles
Day 85: Dec 19 - Madison to Chicago, IL - 147 Miles
Day 86: Dec 20 - Chicago
Day 87: Dec 21 - Chicago
Day 88: Dec 22 - Chicago
Day 89: Dec 23 - Chicago to Munson, MI to Defiance, OH - 227 Miles
Day 90: Dec 24 - Defiance, OH to Hawkins, IN - 104 Miles
For a total of 15,169 Highway Miles
Other Figures:
Steve's car would have gotten roughly 20 miles to the gallon. Gas averaged .86 a gallon in 1986. This trip required 758.5 gallons of gas, which amounts to a fuel cost of $652.27. In 2022, with an average closer to $3.50, that would be $2,654.58 in fuel alone.
I estimate they spent roughly $4500 on motel rooms. That's at $50 a night. That’s about $12,223.54 in 2022 dollars.
And I estimate they spent about $3600 on food. That’s about $9800 in 2022 dollars. A Big Mac in 1986 was $1.60.
With other incidentals, I’d guess this was a $10,000 trip. Today, that’d be closer to $27,000-$30,000.
So this was an expensive trip, take the money and run is right!
If you have questions, feel free to ask! The answer might be, I made it up. Or I don't know. But I did a lot of googling for this. I'm glad I wasn't writing a murder, or my search history may have landed me on Dateline, haha.
Instead it just thinks I'm absolutely obsessed with 1986. ;)
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