Chapter Text
It was bad enough having to go to college after literally saving the world, but it was even worse having Eddie “The Freak” Munson as your roommate. Steve had laughed hysterically when his RA told him who he'd be rooming with for the semester – thinking it was some kind of fucked up joke, but the overworked looking RA had just stared at him and gruffly replied, “I have no idea who either of you are, just take your key man and get outta here.”
Steve had angrily snatched his key and orientation pamphlet from the RA and stomped to his room, hoping for at least a little bit of time alone before he had to face... him.
But as soon as Steve swung open the door, there he was, lounging on the bare mattress of one of the single beds with a shit eating grin. “Well well well,” Eddie drawled. “You're just so obsessed with me, aren't you princess?”
Steve bristled at the pet name Eddie had taken to calling him, but instead of telling Eddie not to call him that for the umpteenth time, he snapped, “You think I asked to be your roommate?”
“Well yeah, I'm amazing.”
Steve snorted as he dumped his bag down on the other bed. He figured if he could just ignore Eddie, maybe he wouldn't be such a weird asshole. But no, as usual, Steve Harrington was wrong. His lack of reply only caused Munson to chuckle darkly as he swung off the bed to stand over Steve.
“What, you don't agree that I'm amazing?” Eddie asked, arms crossed as he crowded Steve with an evil looking smirk. Steve wouldn't be surprised if Eddie had been the one to ask to room together, just to fuck with him. He wished he could have roomed with Robin.
When Steve yet again didn't answer, Eddie shrugged and said, “Alright then Harrington, have it your way. I thought we could be friends.”
Steve couldn't help but laugh that time. Friends? With Eddie? Maybe they got along when their entire town was falling apart and being overrun with monsters from the Upside down, but now that things were back to normal, he and Eddie were back to being grisly acquaintances at best, and seething enemies at worst.
This was going to be a long semester.
~
The first month of school had felt like a year. Steve liked his classes, but they were already so challenging. He'd been up doing homework until the wee hours of the morning almost every night. Meanwhile Eddie Munson had been up until the wee hours every single night, out partying, drinking and doing god knows what else until he stumbled in drunk at 4am – if at all.
One of the rare nights when Eddie was in their room, also happened to be one of the rare nights when Steve didn't have a lot of homework. He'd been able to go out for a beer with Nancy and Robin, and by the time he got back Eddie was passed out on his face in bed.
Steve thanked his lucky stars he didn't have to interact with him.
Steve had tried to stay awake and enjoy some free time while he could, but the long nights and gruelling class schedule was taking its toll. So he decided to just have a vending machine chocolate milk – something he'd taken to doing as a treat before bed some nights – and get some rest. And it was the best rest he'd had in weeks. No nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, just pure uninterrupted sleep. When he woke up to the morning sun shining through the Venetian blinds he felt warm and cosy and safe. Though – and he couldn't tell why – his mind felt a little fuzzy. Like cotton.
But his head-space wasn't all that didn't feel right.
Steve's stomach dropped like a lead ball when he realised he felt really warm. Too warm. And too wet. Steve flung into a seated position, and he didn't have to throw back the covers to know what had happened. What he'd done. It was something he hadn't done for months. Not since the aftermath of everything that went down.
Steve Harrington had wet the bed.
“Morning sleeping beauty,” Eddie hummed. He was already out of bed and dressed and lounging at his desk with his feet propped up on the edge. He twirled a pencil around his lower lip as he said, “I thought I was going have to kiss your princess lips to awaken you from your slumber.”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck.
No... Eddie couldn't see. He couldn't know. He couldn't.
Steve was frozen in place, trembling slightly and desperately trying not to cringe at the feel of warm piss coating his pyjama bottoms and even his shirt. He didn't know what to do, he still felt fuzzy, and like he wanted to cry – but that was not happening, not in front of Eddie. He sucked on his bottom lip as it began to wobble uncontrollably, staring unseeing at his closet door and not at Eddie. If he looked at Eddie he might just break down entirely.
“You alright Harrington?” Steve was vaguely aware of Eddie's words, but they sounded distant, as if he were underwater. Through the corner of his eye he saw Eddie get up out of his desk chair, his face softening with concern.
“Yo. Earth to Steve?” Eddie said. Steve still couldn't look at him. His breaths were getting faster, physical pain beginning to bloom in his chest. He hunched up and tucked his knees to his chest, making sure the blanket still covered his accident from view.
Steve felt like he was floating, and not in a good way. In a way that felt like if he drifted too far he'd never be able to come back. It was only the sight of Eddie stepping closer that snapped him out of it. When Eddie made a move to sit on the edge of the bed, Steve flung out a hand and shouted, “No! Don't sit!”
“Why? What's wrong? You're paler than Mike Wheeler, for fucks sake,” Eddie jested, though his accompanying chuckle was clipped with worry.
Eddie Munson, worrying about him? Weird.
Steve tried to form the words in his mouth, but when he felt a hot tear drip down his cheek all he could muster was a whimper of utter mortification. His lip was trembling wildly now, more tears filling his wide eyes. The sight of him must have been so bad it made Eddie “The Freak” Munson feel sorry for him. So sorry in fact that Eddie crouched down on his haunches beside the bed and placed a hand on Steve's shaking shoulder.
“Steve. Talk to me, okay? What's happened?”
Eddie rarely used his proper name, that made Steve look over to find the other man's face full of worry and confusion. Then, Eddie's nostrils flared as he noticed the scent of urine that was slowly filling the room. Steve saw the moment Eddie realised what had happened. The moment he realised Steve fucking Harrington – the most desirable guy at Hawkins High – had wet his bed.
He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole, he'd even take being in the Upside down over being right there, under the mocking, sinister gaze of Eddie Munson.
But his gaze wasn't mocking. In fact, it held no hint of dismay or disgust at all. Just sympathy and... understanding.
Steve was socked and appalled when he got the sudden urge to lean into the man and let him comfort him. Which he realised was exactly what Eddie wanted to do when his fingers twitched on Steve's shoulder – almost as if he wanted to scoop Steve up and cuddle him close.
Steve didn't know where the fuck that thought had come from, so he shoved it deep down and made a mental note to not ever, ever revisit it again.
But then Eddie spoke, and something in his voice made Steve want to curl up and accept his comfort. “Stevie,” Eddie said slowly. “Did you – ”
“No!” Steve snapped. It was instinct to deny it. It's what he always did whenever he got caught at home.
Eddie hardened his expression, but it was still consoling and and soothing, just... firmer. “Steve,” he said strongly. “Don't lie to me. I want to help you. But I can't do that unless you tell me the truth. Did you wet the bed?”
Steve's breath hitched as more tears began to fall. He looked away, feeling his cheeks burn red. Then he found himself nodding, slowly and shamefully.
“Oh sweetheart...” Eddie sighed under his breath. He seemed to catch himself and quickly amended, “Oh Steve. It's okay.”
“Don't... don't tell... anyone...” Steve croaked. His throat was closing up with the effort to keep his sobbing at bay.
Eddie looked genuinely puzzled as he said, “Why would I tell anyone?”
“Because... because that's... that's just what you do! Cuz you're mean!”
Eddie clicked his tongue, his grip tightening on Steve's shoulder. “Stevie, I would never tell anyone. I'm sorry if I've given you the impression that I'm that kind of person.”
“But you are!” Steve cried, no longer able to hold back on the growing torrent of sobs. “You are that kind of person! An-and you're gonna make fun of me and – ”
“Steve.” Eddie grasped both his shoulders now and forced Steve to look at him “Stevie, I would never, ever make fun of someone for that. I'm a Dom, okay? And I have experience with Littles. I know what I'm doing.” He tutted, “Though it was only scene Littles, but I'm sure the same concepts apply.”
“Littles?” Steve sniffed. The fuck was Munson talking about?
“Oh,” Eddie sat back on his heels. “I thought you knew...”
“Knew what?” Steve was starting to get a little heated, that fuzziness in his head disappearing in the face of indignant anger.
“Well... it's just...” Eddie shrugged. “You drink milk before bed, you have those cartoon stickers on your notebook, and you suck your thumb when you're sleeping.”
“I what?!”
“I just thought you regressed!” Eddie said, holding his hands up. “And that you knew what it meant.”
But Steve didn't know what it meant. He'd just thought he got a little spacey when he was stressed, not... regressed.
“But that doesn't matter,” Eddie quickly said before Steve could hammer him with the surge of questions that arose. Like how had he not known Eddie is a Dom, and what in the fuck is a scene Little? “What matters right now is getting you cleaned up. So how about we hop up, and get you out of those pj's? Sound good?”
Steve looked at Eddie, at the determination and the cool calmness on his face, and found himself nodding. And when Eddie stood and reached out a hand, Steve took it, and let the man pull him to his feet. When Eddie tapped Steve's sides and told him to raise his arms, Steve did it, and let him pull his soiled t-shirt off and over his head. And when he curled his fingers through the waistband of Steve's pants, Steve stiffened and gulped.
“This okay?” Eddie asked. “Or do you want me to turn around and let you do it yourself?”
Steve took a steadying breath. He wanted Eddie to do it. Why? He had no idea, but in that moment, more than anything in the world, he wanted Eddie to take care of him. “Th-this... is okay,” he said.
Eddie nodded, and gently tugged down Steve's wet pyjama bottoms, and his underwear. He held them open at his feet for Steve to step out of them, and once he did he balled them up and dumped them on the bed.
Steve stood there, naked as the day he was born, as Eddie turned and went searching for his shower robe. When he found it, he wrapped it around Steve gently, and even closed the ties at his waist.
“Now, do you want me to help you in the shower sweetheart?” Eddie asked. “It's like... 11am, so they should be pretty empty.”
Steve's head-space was slipping into that fluffy, fuzzy state again, and for some reason, he didn't want to fight it. He trusted Eddie. For some reason.
“Um... help?” Steve mumbled. What the hell was he doing? Was he really gonna let Eddie fucking Munson help him in the shower?
Yes. Yes he was.