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SENIOR YEAR
Eddie doesn’t do gym. Normally he ditches the entire period. It’s the last in the day this semester, easy enough to duck out early, go somewhere to smoke, to decompress…
This year, though, he’s taken to sticking around. He doesn’t dress out, for obvious reasons, and he certainly doesn’t participate. But he watches.
He doesn’t imagine that in another life, he could have just been a girl, and just looked at boys– even if he could have stood to, other kids knew. They mostly don’t know he’s the same kid. No one paid enough attention to track him. He shaved all his hair off before middle school, and he moved, and he changed his name, and everyone knew he was a Munson, sure, but he got on the bus at a different stop, and he looked like a real boy, and he dressed and acted like Eddie, and even people who he went to school with his whole life assume he’s just some cousin of that weird girl. His parents no longer live in Hawkins, and neither does ‘she’. Wayne does and Eddie does, and that’s all there is to it.
But they knew, before Eddie– before he shaved his head and named himself and dressed in layers of denim and flannel, and long before he grew his hair back out and added leather to the mix. They knew that the way ‘she’ looked at boys was different and the way ‘she’ did girl things was wrong, and he couldn’t have pretended to be normal much longer. Fifth grade just about killed him, and the other kids wouldn’t have mourned the loss if it did.
So. Eddie. Eddie, who lucked into being able to grow a little facial hair, if not much, and who, between cigarettes and long hours of practice, worked his way into a deeper register, who mostly looks the way he wants, though the vest helps. Makes his shoulders look bigger, more squared-off, hides the shape of his chest. Makes his hips look narrower than his torso.
Eddie, who doesn’t change for gym because abandoning said vest for the ill-fitting phys ed tee would make him feel exposed even if he wouldn’t have to undress in front of the entire class of boys, some of whom he’d like to see naked, but being seen is another story.
The reason he’s not ditching entirely is that this year, Steve Harrington is in his class. And Steve Harrington…
Maybe he’s still an asshole. Eddie reminds himself every day that Steve Harrington very much could still be an asshole, that if he knew Eddie was half the things Eddie is, he’d be a mega asshole, at best. But he’s no longer the asshole, and anyway, he’s nice to look at.
In the building rivalry between Harrington and Hargrove, it’s pretty easy to pick a side, anyway, and that’s got nothing to do with how pretty Steve Harrington is.
When Harrington gets his ass handed to him in class, under the thin pretense of ‘sports getting out of hand’, Eddie’s not really in any kind of position to leap to his defense. But he tosses him a bottle of advil, as he comes shuffling out of the locker room after class.
“What’s this?”
“What does it look like?”
“I’m fine.” Harrington protests.
“Suit yourself.” Eddie shrugs. Doesn’t shove it back in his bag too fast, just in case the guy changes his mind.
“I’m fine.” He repeats, like it might make it any truer. Something in his cold, shuttered-off expression shifts and softens, though. His hand slaps gently against Eddie’s arm, one guy to another, easy. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes out higher than he likes it to. He feels the shameful rush of squirming warmth that he normally associates with Kevin Bacon, Rob Lowe, and Kurt Russel. A fucking crush, and not even on somebody cool. A fucking crush on the normie-est good-looking guy possible. A straight one. At least with guys in movies, he didn’t have to worry about embarrassing himself, beyond wishing he had better taste than Rob Lowe. “Well, any time.”
-
“What’s this?” Steve bristles, but then, he thinks he would have done the same if anyone had said or done anything. It’s been a rough… it’s been rough for a long time, and today, this period, has been particularly embarrassing. And Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson is the last person he expected to actually interact with.
Munson never even participated in class, just sat on the bleachers watching the rest of the class work up a sweat. It always felt like somehow, they were all being made fun of, and today, Steve’s the prime target for any mockery.
Plus, being handed a bottle of pills by the school drug dealer is kind of suspicious, right?
“What does it look like?” Munson rolls his eyes. It’s advil, it’s probably just advil. Steve’s never actually been a customer, after all, though Tommy and Carol bought weed a couple of times and he tried it when they did.
“I’m fine.” He shoves it back at him. Doesn’t want the Freak’s pity. It’s a knee-jerk thought and he feels bad for it once he’s had it, glad that he hadn’t gone so far as to voice it. That’s something the old Steve might have said, but he isn’t trying to be that guy, even if life was easier for old Steve than it feels like it is for now Steve. Old Steve never got shoved around by anybody, never got looked at the way Hargrove looks at him, like a vulture circling something as it dies.
“Suit yourself.” Munson doesn’t take it hard. He doesn’t shove back, or make that ‘what an asshole’ face. Doesn’t act the way Steve thinks he’d deserve for him to. Just looks him over, cautious.
“I’m fine.” Steve repeats, a little softer. A little less defensive. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. Well, any time.”
And he thinks about him, after that. Thinks that he would have been justified in treating him like ‘King Steve’, whoever that is or ever was. That he could have been an asshole– that he didn’t have to offer him the pills in the first place, though Steve’s had so much worse that being knocked around on the court hardly registers. But he’s a nice guy, Eddie Munson. He looks scary, he acts scary, but when it comes right down to it, he’s kind of sweet.
Steve thinks he could stand to be more like that. Kind, like that. He’s been trying to be a better person, sure. He’s found people he cares so much about, even if they’re not the people he thought he would… he’s found things he’s good at, that he never would have guessed he’d be good at. Things he’s better at than he ever was at basketball, and that he likes doing more than he ever liked throwing ragers and doing kegstands. He thinks…
He’s not entirely sure what he thinks. But he thinks about Eddie Munson a lot.
SCOOPS AHOY
The last thing Eddie Munson plans on, the summer after failing senior year yet again, is to have to run into Steve Harrington again.
The movie theater at Starcourt sucks as much as the old theater ever did, with its two dinky screens and maybe a hundred seats total. He has been threatened with a ban, by a pimple-faced fifteen year old who does not have the power, if he asks about Warriors of the Wind one more time. They do not have Warriors of the Wind, they will not get Warriors of the Wind, and the fifteen year old behind the counter has never even heard of Warriors of the Wind.
Eddie thinks maybe that means he should have the kid’s job, but whatever. He’s already seen The Goonies, The Stuff, D.A.R.Y.L., and Return to Oz. Back to the Future and Red Sonja aren’t out yet. St. Elmo’s Fire looks like it sucks, and staring at Rob Lowe isn’t enough to get him through a movie about fucking rich people who get to go to college and have sex and how bad their problems are.
He’s not about to rewatch The Goonies, D.A.R.Y.L, or Return to Oz, because watching a kid movie once when you’re bored and it’s the only thing showing is one thing, but paying to watch a kid movie in the theater a second time is another. He’s not about to rewatch The Stuff, because that one actually fucked him up a little, the dog that ate the titular stuff was kind of too much, and he normally doesn’t have a problem with scary. He’s not about to watch Secret Admirer or Pale Rider, because they both look painfully uninteresting and they don’t even have guys he’s interested in.
So, instead of the movies, he ends up at Scoops Ahoy, and there’s his stupid crush of senior year gym class, Steve Harrington.
In a sailor suit.
There’s no escaping Harrington in shorts.
There’s also no escaping Harrington’s clear thing with Robin Buckley, which is surprising– he can’t still be that kind of asshole, if Buckley’s tolerating him, but he’s obviously got a whole thing for her.
Without the movies, Eddie just needs someplace to be air-conditioned, though, and ice cream would ease the traitorous throes of his stupid uterus. It doesn’t do regularity, but it sure does killer cramps and cravings, even when he’s only really going to spot a little. If he’s not using his money to sit in front of a movie and enjoy the AC for a hundred and fifteen minutes, he might as well use it on a nautical-themed ice cream monstrosity.
“Ahoy–” Harrington falters, swallowing his rehearsed greeting, whether he recognizes Eddie as someone he’s spoken to before or just as a guy his age who he would rather not look like an idiot in front of. “Uh, hey. Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. We have ice cream. Shit– sorry, just… distracted.”
His eyes slide back towards Buckley, on the other side of the little window, and she rolls her eyes at him so hard Eddie feels it.
“I’ll bet.” Eddie shoves down the memory of ever having had a crush on Steve Harrington, before he can say something stupid like ‘does she look as cute in her uniform as you look in yours?’.
“Did you wanna… set sail on an ocean of flavor?” Harrington winces.
“You suck.” Buckley laughs. Another voice from the back calls for her attention, one that sounds like a kid is back there, but hey, not like Eddie can judge.
“Give me the S.S. Butterscotch, and throw some extra hot fudge on there.” Eddie waves what would have been his movie-going money under Harrington’s nose. “And then just ignore me taking up a table for the next hour and a half, and I will tip you prodigiously, dude.”
“If you take an hour and a half, this thing is gonna be soup.” Harrington says, but he gets with the program enough to start making the sundae. Gives his ice cream scoop a little show-off-y twirl.
“No AC at my place and I’m dying, I just want to take up the real estate.”
“Deal.” Harrington winks. Eddie is totally normal about it.
Someone in the back says something in Russian, or maybe it’s a language tape and not a person? Which distracts Harrington into spraying the whipped cream he’s holding everywhere. Eddie is totally normal about that, too.
“Extra whip’s on the house, too.” He chuckles sheepishly. “If you ignore… that. She’s just, she’s studying Russian on her break. And, um, break’s going a little long, but that’s– you know. Cool.”
“Well, if it’s cool with you, Sailor.” Eddie winks. Like a moron.
-
“Ahoy– Uh, hey.” Steve swallows. He hasn’t actually spoken to Munson since… maybe since that one time in gym. He always thought about it, and never did, and so much went down that was so much more important than who he talked to in school. But he can at least do the courtesy of not addressing him with the same spiel he gives pretty girls coming to Starcourt from one of the nearby towns, who don’t know who he was before or after his fall from grace, who went to different schools, who would be fresh starts. “Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. We have ice cream. Shit– sorry, just… distracted.”
Because there’s the thing, all the shit that went down, maybe it’s over, but there’s other shit very much going down. And for some reason, Steve’s involved in this, too. Although, if busting a Russian spy ring together makes Robin ease off him, he’ll take it. She’s actually a pretty cool girl, and he’d like for her to not keep treating him like he’s the biggest idiot she knows, even if he probably is. And right now, Steve’s on ‘keep the customers satisfied’ duty so she and Dustin can try to decipher some secret message, and worrying about that is pretty damn distracting.
Which does not help with Mission: Act Like You’re Cool and Smart.
“I’ll bet.” Munson smiles at him, eyes twinkling.
“Did you wanna… set sail on an ocean of flavor?” Yeah, failing Mission: Act Like You’re Cool and Smart, all right.
“You suck.” Robin jeers playfully, peeking out at him from the back, though at least she doesn’t pull the board up, and he shoots her a glare, because he’s not hitting on Eddie Munson.
He’s not.
He wasn’t even thinking about it, until that reminder of his current scorecard, heavily in favor of him sucking.
He’s resolved not to think about it now.
“Give me the S.S. Butterscotch, and throw some extra hot fudge on there.” Munson flashes a none-too-impressive, but still well above necessary, handful of ones. “And then just ignore me taking up a table for the next hour and a half, and I will tip you prodigiously, dude.”
“If you take an hour and a half, this thing is gonna be soup.” Steve snorts.
He makes the sundae on autopilot. Showing off is just… part of the process. It’s not anyone’s fault if the person who ordered it this time is a non-babe, that there are no girls hanging around watching him work, for once.
“No AC at my place and I’m dying, I just want to take up the real estate.” Munson groans. Like Robin, Steve thinks, he had been a drama kid. Painfully dorky.
Like with Robin, Steve thinks, he wants to be liked anyway. Not in the way people ‘liked’ him in high school, but the way that people like Robin Buckley and Eddie Munson like people who deserve it. The way that he and Henderson are friends, even though it doesn’t get more painfully dorky than Dustin Henderson. Because, Steve thinks, he likes painfully dorky. He likes the idea of being friends with people who define themselves by the things they like instead of the things they hate.
“Deal.” Steve winks.
On autopilot.
And speaking of Dustin Henderson, he plays the recording back way too loud for there being customers in the shop. He can see Munson’s face as he registers that he’s hearing Russian.
“Extra whip’s on the house, too.” Steve blushes. There’s as much covering him as there is on the damn S.S. Butterscotch. “If you ignore… that. She’s just, she’s studying Russian on her break. And, um, break’s going a little long, but that’s– you know. Cool.”
“Well, if it’s cool with you, Sailor.” Eddie Munson winks at him, this time.
Cool.
MELVALD’S
Robin’s eating Reese’s Pieces non-stop at work and shorter than usual with the customers, and she’s got that breakout, which means her period is going to start any day now, and at this point Steve doesn’t even think it’s weird that he knows that.
He thinks it’s a little weird that he knows before she does– Nancy always kept a calendar, which apparently Robin doesn’t. He’s not sure which of them is normal about it, he just knows that it’s his duty as platonic soulmate to make sure he has the right kind of tampons and shit at his place before it hits, a couple he can stash at work or in his car, in case she needs one and he’s driving her to school or something.
He pretends to read the labels on the allergy medications on the end cap of the aisle, until the lady shopping there is done, because while he’s not ashamed to plunk a box of tampons down at the register, he thinks the lady doing her own shopping might feel awkward about seeing some strange guy come down the aisle, and having to deal with a stranger knowing what she’s dealing with. So, she leaves, he slips down the aisle, and he starts scanning for Robin’s brand.
Only to bump into Eddie Munson.
“Oh.” He says. “Hey.”
Well, he never claimed to be smart.
Smooth is easy, with girls, even if it hasn’t worked out for him the way it used to, since high school. It’s not really easy with guys.
And it’s not like it matters, if he’s not smooth with guys, because obviously he’s not trying to date guys. Except sometimes he thinks it would be better, or easier. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t know who he is, with dates with girls who don’t care to see him a second time. Sometimes he wonders if he would know who he is, if…
And it’s all Munson’s fault. Munson, who used to come into Scoops all the time, capable of packing away truly impressive amounts of ice cream, like he was the opposite of lactose intolerant. Not simply lactose tolerant, but like ice cream was the lifeblood on which he survived the summer. Which, maybe it was. Steve does remember he didn’t have AC. Munson, who Dustin talks about like he hung the moon. Munson, who makes requests at Family Video for weird movies Steve’s never heard of, but which Robin gets all excited about. She got Keith to order some cartoon about giant bugs, and Munson came in and did this whole little dance about getting his hands on it.
He’s just… he’s really cute.
And he has a girlfriend.
Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t some incredibly cool girl jump at the chance to make Eddie Munson her boyfriend? He’s passionate about the things he likes, and he has zero shame, and Steve has an embarrassingly easy time picturing the way he’d go to town on a girl, after all the ice cream he’s seen him fucking make love to over that summer.
Plus, yes, okay, he’s hot. He’s stupidly hot, with his big, pretty eyes, and his soft-looking lips, with his dimples and his hands and the way he moves…
And he has a girlfriend.
And he’s a good boyfriend, the kind who gets his girlfriend’s pads, doesn’t even have to look around the aisle for the right kind or double-check, but he’s not just grabbing the first package off the shelf. He’d just… come straight to the right ones, before Steve ran into him.
“Uh, hey.” Eddie blushes. “This is…”
“Awkward, yeah.” Steve laughs.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, we got some kind of movie you’d like in. It’s, um… it’s got Frankenstein or Dracula or something like that? It’s got Victor Ehrlich and, um, what’s his face? He was in Silverado?” He stops himself from saying it was the hot guy in Silverado, because he hadn’t been playing a hot guy, Steve doesn’t think, he’d just had big, brown eyes and curly dark hair, and Steve’s got a type, he guesses.
“Victor Ehrlich?”
“St. Elsewhere?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Sorry. Um, anyway, I’m gonna…”
“Yeah. Right– oh, hey… Baby Ruth.”
“What?”
“Buy her a Baby Ruth. Peanuts, nougat, caramel, chocolate… hits all the major craving needs. Plus you show up with like, an extra little nice thing she didn’t ask for.”
Eddie stares at him a moment, before letting out a single, weird little laugh. “Sure. Good tip.”
-
Eddie just needs to wait for the aisle to empty out. He just needs some fucking overnight protection, why is it so hard for a guy to get? He just needs the girls in the aisle to find what they need and get out, but before they’re gone, there’s another woman who sweeps past where he’s staring intently at a multivitamin, and he just fucking wants his box of Kotex.
He spots her leaving, takes a deep breath, and rushes for it, barreling straight into Steve fucking Harrington. Of course.
“Oh. Hey.” Steve nods to him, one of those breezy, confident jock-type nods, like it’s totally normal for two guys to run into each other in the pads-and-tampons aisle of Melvald’s. A little awkward, maybe, but way cooler than anything about this situation calls for, and Eddie can feel himself turning red.
“Uh, hey. This is…”
“Awkward, yeah.” Steve chuckles, still way too easy, grabbing a box of tampons for his girlfriend, Eddie assumes.
He kind of envies the confidence, but toxic shock is fucking scary, and he’s never been super comfortable with all the… getting up close and personal with himself, to insert the damn things. So, whenever his period does deign to show up, he trades boxers in for briefs he can stick a pad into and he deals with it, ‘cause it’s not like he ever got the chance to learn how tampons work anyway. By the time he had to worry about that, he was living with Wayne, and Wayne would do anything for him, but he couldn’t teach him that.
“Yeah.” He agrees. Awkward is the word.
“Hey, we got some kind of movie you’d like in.” Steve says, like they’re stopped in literally any other aisle. “It’s, um… it’s got Frankenstein or Dracula or something like that? It’s got Victor Ehrlich and, um, what’s his face? He was in Silverado?”
“Victor Ehrlich?” Eddie’s brow furrows.
“St. Elsewhere?”
Oh. A TV show. He doesn’t watch many of those, and a soapy hospital show wouldn’t be one of them. Jeopardy!, with Wayne, and any time there are Twilight Zone reruns on, he’ll tear his attention away from planning his campaign or playing– or listening to– music, and he’s not above a few Saturday morning cartoons before he has to clear out and let Wayne get some sleep, but as forms of entertainment go, TV isn’t his usual. “Sorry. Um, anyway, I’m gonna…”
“Yeah. Right– oh, hey… Baby Ruth.”
“What?” He blinks.
“Buy her a Baby Ruth. Peanuts, nougat, caramel, chocolate… hits all the major craving needs. Plus you show up with like, an extra little nice thing she didn’t ask for.” Steve points at him, and it’s surreal, is what it is. Steve Harrington is giving him Good Boyfriend Tips.
Eddie really doesn’t know what to do with that.
But he buys himself a Baby Ruth. It really does hit the spot.
HELLFIRE CLUB
Steve normally isn’t on call for rides home from Hellfire Club, the boys usually carpool with whatever parent comes to pick them up, but this time there’s been some kind of emergency, he guesses. He gets a phone call from Henderson when he’s kicked up his feet in front of the TV with a movie Robin had recommended and a post-horrible-date late night snack.
He knows he could just give up on the dates, at this point. He knows he’d rather be with someone, something, very different from what he’s used to. That he’s done with girls. But it’s easier not to be done with them. It’s easier not to be…
It’s easier not to be Steve.
Only Robin knows, and Robin gets it. She gives him shit for asking every girl to walk into Family Video out on a date that won’t go anywhere, but she’s sympathetic when he goes out anyway and it, predictably, doesn’t go anywhere. She lets him handle his shit his own way.
Or, not handle it, for now. Why start, when he’s not really handling anything else in life?
He’s aware that going to pick up Dustin and the others means possibly seeing Eddie Munson. He sees him at Family Video, whenever there’s something worth renting. He’s learned that Eddie likes movies, but doesn’t watch a lot of TV. He knows his favorites. Knows when he hasn’t been in for a while, which he hasn’t.
Outside of that, they don’t really talk. There’s no point in nurturing a crush on a guy with a girlfriend. Well, there’s no point in nurturing a crush on any guys in Hawkins, he’s pretty sure, but Hawkins is where Steve is, for… for the foreseeable future.
He doesn’t really plan on talking to him, but Eddie makes a detour, even though Steve’s parked across the parking lot from his van a little ways.
“Well, well, well… to what do I owe the pleasure?” He greets, grins.
“Henderson. Called me for a ride.” He shrugs, waving to the kids. Watches them jostle each other and fight over shotgun. “Um… how’s it going? Long time no see.”
“Yeah. Busy as shit.” He nods, shouldering his bag. “Still recovering from the SATs. Apparently I had to, like, actually take it this year?”
“You never took the SATs?”
“First senior year, yes. Second senior year, no. Third time’s the charm, though, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Well… I gotta get these little gremlins back home.”
“Right. Right, yeah, ‘cause otherwise their parents might feed them after midnight.” Eddie snorts, and Steve’s heart soars a little, because Steve’s heart is stupid.
“Hey, but now, no more SATs.” He adds, because, stupid. Because he doesn’t want to stop looking at Eddie Munson’s perfect face. “Frees you up for your, um… lady.”
“Yeah! Usual Tuesday night thing.” He says over him.
“Tuesday night thing? Not the weekend? I can see how school fucks with that, then.”
“Hellfire’s on Friday nights, and we couldn’t get Saturdays.” Eddie plays with his hair. Steve knows what it means when girls do it, but with Eddie it’s just an Eddie thing. He does it pretty much all the time. “But hey, look, if you ever–”
Fucking Henderson. The kid leans on the horn, startling Steve and scaring Eddie out of his skin.
“Let’s GO!” He shouts.
Steve sighs. “Right, well. See you.”
“See you.” Eddie nods, and hightails it for his van.
“Look, I’m glad you and Eddie are finally talking to each other, because I told you you would like him…” Dustin lectures, as Steve slides into the driver’s seat. As if Steve didn’t already like him, as if he didn’t know him first. “But if I’m late, my mom is going to kill me!”
-
“Well, well, well… to what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie makes a beeline for Steve, his unexpected but oh-so-handsome surprise guest.
Well, not ‘guest’. He hadn’t set foot in the school proper, let alone witnessed any of Eddie’s excellent Dungeon Mastery. But seeing him in the parking lot is a pleasant surprise, and Steve Harrington is like a bright flame on a dark night. Eddie is but a humble moth, all too aware his wings might burn, all too helpless to resist.
“Henderson. Called me for a ride. Um… how’s it going? Long time no see.”
“Yeah. Busy as shit.” Eddie hadn’t expected Steve to notice, if he hadn’t been around as much lately. He tries not to read anything into it. “Still recovering from the SATs. Apparently I had to, like, actually take it this year?”
“You never took the SATs?”
“First senior year, yes. Second senior year, no. Third time’s the charm, though, right?” He grins. It feels false and brittle, but he knows the role he has to play. But despite Steve’s mild surprise over the fact Eddie has to retake the damn thing, there’s no real reaction. No haughty sneer, no mocking laugh, no pity.
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Well… I gotta get these little gremlins back home.” He jerks a thumb towards his car, now filled with rowdy freshmen.
“Right. Right, yeah, ‘cause otherwise their parents might feed them after midnight.” Eddie laughs.
“Hey, but now, no more SATs. Frees you up for your, um…” Steve pauses, leaning on said car.
“Yeah! Usual Tuesday night thing.” Eddie nods. What if he invited Steve to come see them play? Yeah, okay, nothing’s ever going to happen. Even if Steve didn’t have a girlfriend, nothing would happen. Even if Steve was interested in fucking him, it would be all wrong somehow, he would want someone Eddie isn’t, and it would be way too risky to put it out there for so many reasons. But he could invite him to listen to some live music in a cruddy bar. Pretend not to feel a weird little pang seeing Steve bring his girlfriend to the show.
“Tuesday night thing? Not the weekend? I can see how school fucks with that, then.” He nods, and yeah, nobody’s parents are crazy about Corroded Coffin playing their gigs on a Tuesday night, but the Hideout books ‘real’ bands on the weekends.
Eddie screws up his courage. He’s going to ask Steve to come see them play. He’s going to…
“Hellfire’s on Friday nights, and we couldn’t get Saturdays. But hey, look, if you ever–”
The car horn honks and Eddie jumps about a foot in the air.
“Let’s GO!” Henderson yells, pounding on the glass. Jesus, that kid…
“Right, well. See you.” Steve gives him a little wave.
“See you.” Eddie nods, hurries back to where the rest of the club is waiting at his van for their own rides home.
“What’s up with Steve Harrington?” Jeff asks, and there’s no censure in the question, not really, but Eddie’s ears still burn.
THE BOATHOUSE
Steve.
Eddie drops the glass bottle, sick to his stomach, shaking all over again. Feels a hysterical little laugh-sob tear its way out of him.
At least, he thinks, it’s not like there was anything to blow.
-
Eddie.
God, that he has to be mixed up in all this…
Steve knows it’s not his fault, that he didn’t drag him in, Eddie found his own bad luck. But still… Still.
+1
“You know, she jumped right in after you. Robin.” Eddie says. “Didn’t even hesitate. That’s about as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
“True love?” Steve squints over at him. “I mean– platonically, yeah. But Nance jumped in, too. And you did.”
“Almost didn’t. Still pretty freaked out about it, to be honest. Platonic?”
“Yeah. Robin and me, we’re… we’re strictly platonic. Not really… compatible like that. And Nance– well. Less said about that, the better, but that’s just what she’s like. She’d jump in after anybody.”
“Oh.” Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest.
“I don’t think you’re very cynical, either.” Steve nudges him, smiling gently. “I don’t think cynical people make up dragon games for nerdy kids to play. I don’t think they become musicians, either. I don’t think cynical people rent Ladyhawke ten times.”
“Cynical when it comes to me, then. Kind of a coward when it comes to grand adventures. Kind of shit out of luck when it comes to grand romances. Easier to believe in other people, either way.”
“Yeah? You break up with your girlfriend?”
“I don’t really do girlfriends.” He admits. Because if he’s going to maybe die in a monster-filled hellscape beneath Hawkins, he might as well be brave just once. Honest, the way he always wished he could be. “That, uh… that time in Melvald’s, it was for me.”
“It– the Baby Ruth?” Steve swallows, keeps his voice down.
“Yeah.”
“Oh. I don’t– I was just in there for Robin. Platonically.”
“It’s, uh… you don’t– Are we cool?”
“Of course we’re cool.” He nudges at him again, softly. “Do you do… not-girlfriends?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” The blush spreads across his cheeks, and for a moment, he forgets about the mortal terror. “Do you do not-girlfriends?”
“I’ve been wanting to.”
“Just– ‘cause I’m not a girlfriend. In case the Baby Ruth was, uh, cause for doubt. It’s just… complicated for me.”
“When we get out of here, maybe you can tell me about it?” Steve offers, bites his lip.
Hopes. Hopes.
“When we get out of here.” Eddie promises.