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In the wake of Vecna’s defeat, with Hawkins crumbled around them but alive, rebuilding – Steve takes up origami.
At first, it’s something to fight the extreme boredom.
He’s battered and bruised. Sides and back still torn to bits, bandaged, healing but at a snail’s pace.
His friends are busy helping with the rebuild. Volunteering at the gym where the displaced are housed. Visiting Max while she’s recovering in hospital. Running donation drives, making food to deliver to those still without power, some even patrolling with Hopper and scouring the forest for any sign of remaining Upside Down stragglers.
Steve can’t do any of that.
He has to rest. Fine, he gets that. Tiredness clings to his bones these days, leaves him feeling slow and like he’s wading through jelly just walking to the next room.
Those first few days, when he’d been basically bedridden at home because the hospital had been overwhelmed, Robin had sat at his side and made paper cranes to pass the time. She’d studied a book with more designs, tried to construct whales and foxes and cats and they’d turned out a little crooked but they’d made Steve smile all the same when she left them on his drawers.
With Steve now somewhat back on his feet, Robin’s out helping the recovering town, but her book remains.
And Steve had sat, cross-legged on the floor because it helps when there’s nothing touching his healing back, with that book beside him. Had thumbed through the pages, fumbled his way through making his first crane, then another, and another, screwing them up and tossing them aside in frustration when they came out sub-par.
But slowly, he improves.
Moves on to making a dog. A fox. A bird.
He’s always been good with his hands.
It’s an omega thing, he guesses. Hands made to nurture, to create.
And while he’d struggled at school, he can do this. Follow the instructions on the page, step by step, until his hands shake with exertion and he slumps back to the couch or to bed.
His parents are still away. Europe, he thinks. They knew Steve had been in hospital, had funded his care but not bothered to come home and see him at all.
He gets visitors, however.
Robin, mostly. The kids. Nancy and Jonathan. Hopper.
But sometimes, if he’s really lucky, Eddie visits.
He’d been luckier than Steve. Had gotten out of this whole mess relatively unscathed after Steve had distracted those damn bats, had taken hits so that the rest of them didn’t have to.
When Eddie visits, it’s usually to drop off the kids. He’ll hang around the front door, smile at Steve, hover a little awkwardly and then let him know he’ll come back to pick up the pups and then he’s gone again.
Steve always wants him to stay.
But he doesn’t know how to ask.
Today, he doesn’t have to.
“Hi, Steve.” Eddie’s on the front step, soft smile on his face when Steve opens the door to his knock.
Steve feels the alpha’s scent wash over him. Citrus spice, smoke, the forest after rain. He inhales slowly, breathes it in. “Hey, Eddie.” Stretching as tall as he can without tugging at his stitches, Steve looks over the other man’s shoulder. “Are the kids here too?”
Eddie grins, tongue between his teeth. “Oh? Little old me not good enough for you?”
“No, I didn’t mean…” Steve trails off, realizing Eddie’s only toying with him. “You usually bring them.”
Eddie shifts from foot to foot, then turns his palms up. “Henderson didn’t answer his phone, the little butthead. But I thought I’d come see you anyway.”
“…oh.” Steve glances down at himself, suddenly self-conscious in his old t-shirt and pants that are baggy at the waist. Baggy because he’d lost weight during his recovery, and he has to tug the drawstring tight to stop them slipping down his hips. His hair definitely needs a wash, but that takes more energy than he has right now.
He thinks he probably smells a little too, his usual ocean salt and honey scent slightly stale.
He hopes to hell Eddie doesn’t notice.
Eddie tilts his head, tries to catch Steve’s eye.
Steve clears his throat. “You wanna come in?”
“I’d love to.”
Steve steps out of the way, lets Eddie inside. He shuffles ahead, heart pounding as he remembers the state of the lounge – blankets strewn around, empty mugs on the coffee table, a half-assed nest assembled on the couch…
…and origami everywhere.
“I’ll just clean up, sorry about the crap everywhere, I didn’t know anyone was coming around today,” Steve mumbles.
“It’s no problem.” Eddie squats down, plucking a paper lion off the floor. “Cute.” He waggles it in his fingers.
“They’re Robin’s,” Steve blurts, cheeks reddening. He feels his scent spike, tries to clamp down on it. “She makes them when she visits me. I sleep a lot, so it helps pass the time.”
Eddie’s smile widens, eyes shining as he looks up at Steve. “Robin’s, huh?”
Steve nods, avoiding his eye. “Do you want a drink?” he asks, quickly diverting Eddie’s attention elsewhere.
“Sure. But I’ll go get it, you sit down before you fall down, sweetheart.” Eddie strides towards the kitchen, leaving Steve reeling a little in the middle of the lounge.
Eddie does that.
Calls him sweetheart, smiles at him softly, looks at him like they’re the only people in the room even when they aren’t.
And Steve’s not sure what to make of it.
He’s not what Eddie wants, he’s sure of it. Eddie would want an omega who shares his interests, who’s edgy and smart and a little wild and Steve’s not really any of those things.
Especially not now – tired, pale, skinny, with barely enough energy to stay on his feet throughout the day.
It’s just…Eddie being Eddie, Steve had decided weeks ago. He’s flirty, and fun, and likes to prod at people’s boundaries.
That’s all.
“That doesn’t look like sitting down,” Eddie comments as he re-enters the room, two beers in hand. He pops the top off them, passes one to Steve.
Steve sits. Heavily, sagging against the couch, wincing as the movement presses the bandages tighter against his skin.
He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him.
“They still hurt, huh? Your bites?” Eddie asks softly.
Steve hides it from the kids, the hurt. As best he can, anyway – they’ve got more important things to worry about. Like Max, like catching up on school, like settling back into life in a hometown they barely recognize anymore.
He can’t hide it from Eddie. Knows the alpha would see right through any lie he could come up with.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, takes a sip from his beer. Eddie’s still standing, Steve realizes with a frown. “You can sit down, plenty of room.” He pats the couch beside him.
Eddie hesitates, eyes flicking to the messy nest bundled on the couch cushions. Blankets, Robin’s hoody, Dustin’s cap, some of Steve’s own old clothes – all strewn together haphazardly because no one had ever taught him how to make a proper nest after his late presentation, and he’d thrown this one together almost unconsciously when he’d been stressed and sore and craving comfort.
“You’re sure? I didn’t want to just, like, plant my ass in your nest without permission,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle.
A brief wave of warmth rolls over Steve at the display of respect from the alpha. “You, um, you have permission, man,” he says. He curls his toes in his yellow socks, embarrassed and endeared all at once when Eddie carefully sits down beside him. “It’s kind of a shit nest, anyway. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“Looks fine to me.” Eddie brushes a hand gently over a blanket.
Steve shakes his head, squeezes his fist around Robin’s hoody. “It isn’t. I made it in a rush when I got back from the hospital. Robin tried to help but she’s a beta, she didn’t really…understand why I had to make one there and then.”
Slowly, Eddie nods. “Your omega needed comfort,” he suggests. “Needed somewhere to rest, surrounded by familiar things.”
“And my bed was too far away, and upstairs, which was a problem with this.” Steve gestures to his sides.
Eddie’s scent is mingling with his nest.
It’s making Steve feel light, a little heady, but more relaxed than he’s felt in days.
He turns to him, blinking slowly, eyelids heavy.
The alpha smiles at him. His eyes dark, framed by long lashes, crinkled at the edges.
Steve could get lost there, he thinks.
But before he lets that happen, he clears his throat. Forces his gaze away. “So…how’ve you been, anyway?” he asks, and the moment is lost.
He and Eddie talk. They finish their beers, and Eddie offers to take Steve to his next appointment, and Steve asks how Wayne’s doing and how their temporary accommodation is going.
It’s pleasant.
It’s fine.
And eventually, Eddie leaves. He’ll come back again tomorrow, he promises, if Steve wants someone to keep him company. Steve tells him yes. Only if Eddie wants to, of course, only if he’s not busy, only if he won’t be bored hanging around here.
It’s only after he’s gone that Steve realizes the bandana from Eddie’s pocket is still sitting on the couch, tangled in the nest.
Must’ve fallen out, Steve concludes.
He’ll give it back to him tomorrow.
But for now…well, it might as well stay right where it is, tucked in next to Robin’s hoody and Steve’s blanket.
Quietly, Steve sits back down. His house is too big. Too empty. Sometimes, he swears he can hear his own thoughts echo back from the hollow rooms. He wishes it had been this house that had fallen down when the gates had closed, when the Upside Down had shaken and cracked apart as it died.
But the Harrington house had stood, tall and proud and nearly alone on the damaged Loch Nora street.
For a moment, he thinks. About citrus and rain on pine needles, about Eddie’s gentle smile and steady hands.
He picks up Robin’s origami book and scans the index page.
Soft smile tugging at his lips, he turns to page fourteen.
And starts to construct a paper dragon.
*****
Somewhere between dragon attempts eight and nine, Steve had succumbed to sleep on the couch.
He wakes up with his hand curled tight around Eddie’s bandanna.
Cheeks reddening despite there being no one there to witness the compromising position, Steve lets go and pushes it away, rubbing at his eyes.
He’s tired. Stiff, a little sore, his brain murky and clouded from sleep.
In the midst of contemplating a shower, there’s a knock on the door.
Frowning, Steve looks at the clock.
It’s 10am.
He’d slept for longer than he’d meant to, and he’d told Eddie to come around anytime from ten.
“Just a second!” Steve yells towards the door.
Shit.
He’s still in yesterday’s clothes, his hair limp and messy, and he needs to brush his teeth but he doesn’t really have time to fix everything right now. Settling on running his hands frantically through his hair and gulping some water to soothe his dry throat, he staggers to the door.
“Hi,” Eddie greets, and he looks good, all bright smile and tight black jeans and a t-shirt clinging to his chest with some band name scrawled across it that Steve doesn’t recognize.
It immediately makes him feel even worse about his current state.
“Um, hi,” Steve mumbles, ducking his head. “Sorry, I overslept, I look like shit, if you give me a few minutes I’ll take a shower and get changed and -”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Eddie soothes. “Take all the time you need, big boy.”
Steve’s cheeks flush for the second time that morning. He nods, ushering Eddie inside.
The paper dragons are still all over the floor.
Eddie’s drawn to them like a moth to a flame, of course he is. Steve freezes, racking his brain for an excuse when Eddie picks one up and smiles at it.
“These weren’t here yesterday,” he comments. “Did Robin come over after me?”
Steve sags in relief at the easy out Eddie hands him. “Yeah. Yeah, she did. She’s learning how to make those. Advancing from lions and stuff. The dragons are harder though, there’s a lot of steps. Well that’s what she told me anyway.” Shut up, shut up, Steve repeats to himself.
Eddie’s grin widens.
Steve leaves him leafing through the origami book while he retreats to the bathroom. He unwraps his bandages, fighting a whine because it always fucking hurts, and then steps under lukewarm spray. The water can’t be too hot or too cold because it stings his wounds like crazy – he knows from experience.
He keeps it brief. Scrubs everywhere he can reach without twisting too much, dries off and then hastily brushes his teeth.
“I just gotta put new bandages on, I’ll be a couple more minutes!” Steve calls to Eddie through the door, figures the guy’s probably bored as hell right now.
“Need help?” comes Eddie’s reply.
Steve blinks a few times. He hadn’t expected that. “No, I’m fine!”
He would really like some help, though.
As he rewraps his sides, wincing and biting his lip through it, he thinks about how nice it’d be to have Eddie doing this for him. To have the alpha’s soft hands brushing against his stomach, his soothing voice murmuring to him, his scent thick in the air every time Steve sucked in a breath.
But he can’t ask for that. He won’t. He’s not some weak, needy omega, he’s not like that.
He can take care of himself.
When he emerges from the bathroom, in fresh clothes for the first time in a while, Eddie’s cross-legged on the lounge floor with paper in his hands, tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth.
“This shit is hard,” he says without looking up. “Buckley’s got a talent, seriously, I can’t even make a goddamn frog -” Eddie looks up, and abruptly stops talking. His eyes are locked on Steve, trailing from his face, down, back up, lingering.
Steve almost squirms under his gaze.
Eddie swallows. Steve watches his throat bob with it.
Tension settles in the air. Thick like molasses.
Steve rubs self-consciously at the scar on his neck, smells citrus and pine pouring off the alpha.
Finally, Eddie clears his throat and lowers his eyes. “I thought, um…I thought maybe we could take a little walk in the park. It’s nice out, and we could grab some breakfast from the café and eat it over there. I mean, if you’re up to going out, that is, otherwise we can just stay here.”
“No, I’d like that,” Steve says quickly. A little fresh air and sunshine sounded pretty amazing right now – it had been a while since he’d ventured outside for anything other than an appointment or urgent errands. “I might not be able to walk that far though.”
“That’s ok,” Eddie reassures him. “We’ll take it slow.”
And slow, Steve is. They stroll down the quiet street towards the park, Eddie matching Steve’s pace without complaint, chatting away about starting up his band again in Jeff’s garage since Gareth’s house fell apart when the gates closed, about the campaign he was planning that could include his current party along with Erica and Will, and maybe even Max when she’s well enough, if her friends could convince her to play. Steve nods along, enjoying the sound of Eddie’s voice more than anything.
He's a little tired when they reach the park. But somehow, with Eddie here, it doesn’t really matter – he doesn’t want to go home, not yet. Eddie leads him to the park bench, tells him to sit and wait while he gets them some breakfast from the café across the street.
It’s nice to feel the sun on his skin, the breeze in his hair. There’s kids playing on the swing set, he can hear them laughing. A squirrel scampers up a nearby tree, and a cardinal flitters in the branches overhead.
But it’s Eddie that Steve’s eyes are drawn to as soon as the alpha returns, balancing two take-away cups in his hands and a bag under his arm.
“Ok, so I got you a toasted sandwich but if you don’t like it then I’ll go back and get you something else,” Eddie says, sitting down and reaching into the bag for Steve’s sandwich.
“It’ll be fine,” Steve promises. “Thank you.”
He nibbles at it. And it’s good, but he hasn’t had much of an appetite since his injuries.
Eddie’s eyes are on him, though.
“You don’t like it?” he asks. He looks disappointed, no doubt wrestling with that innate alpha urge to provide.
“No, it’s good. Just, I can’t eat much these days. Since the…” Steve waves a hand vaguely to his sides. “I got a pretty bad infection from these. Was sick for a while. Like…really sick.”
“I didn’t know that.” Eddie’s voice is hushed, almost hurt.
“I didn’t tell anyone. Except Robin, because she’s the one that dragged me to the hospital.”
“Why?”
Steve shrugs. “Didn’t need everyone to be worried. There was enough going on already.”
“We’re your friends, we could’ve helped.”
“It’s ok. Infection’s gone now, anyway. It’s just…taking me a while to fully recover. It’ll be fine though.” He takes another small bite, chews on crunchy bread and melted cheese.
“Wait, are you even ok to be out here? Shit, I dragged you all the way out here after you’ve been really sick -” Eddie shifts on the bench, clearly starting to panic and Steve grabs for his hand unconsciously.
On instinct.
“Eddie, it’s fine, relax,” he soothes. Unbidden, he feels his own scent rolling outwards towards Eddie, calming the agitated alpha. Eddie blinks back at him a little dopily. “It’s nice to get out of the house. I’m ok, promise.”
Eddie smiles. Pine blooms with Steve’s ocean salt and honey.
Perhaps it’s his imagination, but Steve could almost swear he feels a little less tired with every passing moment he spends with Eddie.
*****
When they’re apart, however, the tiredness returns tenfold.
For the next week, Steve sleeps in Eddie’s hoody.
The alpha had given it to him on their way home from the park, when Steve had been shivering and Eddie had immediately handed it to him, had insisted Steve put it on.
He’ll give it back.
Eventually.
But Eddie hadn’t asked for it back yet, and Steve was sleeping so well wrapped up in the worn black fabric. It’s soft, and warm, and more comfortable than most of Steve’s clothes.
But he knows none of those things are the reason for his improved sleep.
Rather, it’s the scent of pine and citrus that clings to the garment, that envelops Steve in warmth and security when he flops into his nest each night.
Each time Eddie visits - which is almost every day - Steve makes sure to shove the hoody to the bottom of his nest where it won’t be seen.
He doesn’t want to make things weird.
But also, he’s hoping like crazy that if Eddie doesn’t see it again then maybe he’ll forget, maybe he won’t take it back.
That Saturday, they’re at the diner. Eddie had picked him up, told him he felt like a burger, asked Steve to come along with him.
Robin and Chrissy happened to have the same idea, the two having spotted them and moved to sit across from them in a booth.
“So, Buckley…” Eddie licks ketchup from his finger, and Steve clenches his jaw, hard. “You’re quite the origami connoisseur, huh?”
Steve’s heart pounds, his palms turning sweaty.
Robin frowns. “Huh?”
Steve’s foot finds hers under the table. He kicks it and flashes her a pointed look.
“The origami all round Steve’s place you did, it’s pretty cool,” Eddie continues.
“Oh!” Robin’s eyes widen, and she flails to play the part. “Yes. Origami. One of my many hidden talents, one of the more…niche ones, I suppose. It’s all in the…folding.”
“Folding, huh?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, sneaks a look at Steve, smiles softly.
He knows, Steve realizes. He fucking knows.
“So how long have you two been together?” Chrissy asks sweetly, looking between Eddie and Steve.
Steve almost chokes on a fry. His cheeks turn beet-red.
Under the table, Robin kicks his foot in return.
“Oh we’re not…we’re not together,” Steve splutters. Eddie wouldn’t want him, not like that.
“Oh.” Chrissy shifts in her seat, glances awkwardly at Robin. “Sorry, I thought…well, you just looked like…”
“Like what?”
“Like a couple,” Chrissy finishes. “My mistake.” The omega ducks her head.
Steve feels Eddie looking at him.
The scent of bitter orange lingers in the air.
“Friends can share milkshakes too, babe,” Robin says brightly, clearly trying to rescue the evening. “Totally normal. Me and Steve used to share them all the time.” She loops her fingers through Chrissy’s, squeezes her hand.
Steve glances at the half-empty cup between him and Eddie, the single straw bobbing away in it.
Eddie’s hand is clenched on the table, rings adorning lithe fingers, and Steve wishes he could hold his hand just like Robin was holding Chrissy’s. He’s so happy for them, he really is – Chrissy had been out of town when Hawkins had been shaken almost apart, but on returning had immediately volunteered her time at the school gym helping those who’d found themselves homeless. There, she’d grown close to Robin, the latter of whom had talked Steve’s ear off about this stunning omega until she’d finally gotten the courage to make a move.
His stomach kicks with jealousy.
Wordlessly, he pushes the milkshake towards Eddie.
He doesn’t feel like the rest of it now.
There’s a tight smile on the alpha’s face. He’s quieter than usual for the rest of the evening, perhaps unnoticeable to others but Steve knows. Sees the hint of sadness in his eyes, the way his usual laughter falls a little flat.
The following day, when Eddie comes to visit, things are…a little different. The alpha is still attentive, still friendly, still eager to see Steve but he’s more reserved. He doesn’t touch him. His scent doesn’t spike and bloom the same way when Steve opens the door. It’s like there’s a barrier between them that hadn’t been there just yesterday, and Steve would like to sink his teeth into it and tear it down.
But he can’t.
Because that would involve talking, asking what he’d done to upset Eddie, if he’d made him uncomfortable or been too needy and he doesn’t want to hear Eddie tell him yes, that Steve had been too much.
When Eddie’s not there, Steve throws himself into his origami.
He perfects the dragons, moves on to a Pegasus. Makes witches, mermaids, and something called a satyr and he doesn’t really know what the hell that is but he follows the instructions anyway.
The next time Dustin visits, Steve grills him on Eddie’s favourite D&D creatures. Baffled as to why Steve wants to know but easily caught up in talking about it, Dustin rattles off a bunch of names Steve doesn’t recognize. Finally, Steve huffs and tosses the origami book at Dustin, tells him Robin’s trying to make gifts for everyone and to pick out the closest thing he can find in there to something in D&D. Dustin settles on a dragon, much more complicated than anything Steve’s attempted so far – this one has moving wings, and is gonna take some practice.
It helps. Keeping his hands busy. Making things for Eddie, even if he’ll never gift them to him, even if he’ll never confess to being the maker. It’s just…he can’t ignore the urge to construct things that Eddie might like, imagines the look on the alpha’s face if Steve ever did build up the confidence to give them to him.
He starts listening to music while he folds and creases. Listens to it loud, loud enough to almost chase the emptiness from the house.
It’s on one of these occasions, Dancing in the Dark echoing through the Harrington house, that he doesn’t hear the knock at the front door. Doesn’t hear it creak open or hear the footsteps advancing down the hall.
*****
When Steve doesn’t answer the door, Eddie’s immediately worried.
He always answers, even if he sometimes oversleeps and takes a little while to come to the door. But Eddie had been knocking and calling out for several minutes, and there’s still no sign of the omega he’s grown so fond of.
Mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario – that Steve’s sick again, that he’s got another infection, that he’s stuck in bed and can’t get up – Eddie lets himself in. Picking locks is a walk in the park for him, something good old Al Munson had taught him at the tender age of nine.
Bruce Springsteen assaults his ears as he steps inside.
Well, not assaults, because as far as Steve’s music goes Bruce is certainly at the better end of it, but still – it’s pretty loud.
What if he has someone over?
Eddie freezes by the door. Pictures some athletic alpha, tall and strong and burly and everything he imagines Steve wants. Pictures them all over Steve, stinking out his nest, manhandling him.
He barely contains a growl just at the thought of it.
It’s selfish, he knows that.
Steve can sleep with anyone he wants to.
He’s not Eddie’s. He’s not…he’s not what Steve wants.
But he can’t help but think back to the day after the diner, when he’d bumped into Chrissy again in town.
She’d apologized again, said she hadn’t meant to make things awkward, hadn’t meant to make assumptions about the two of them. Eddie had waved it off, promised it was fine, even as he burned with something akin to longing. After Chrissy had smiled and begun to walk away, Eddie had called her name.
“Out of interest, what was it that made you think we were together? I mean…was it just that we were sharing a milkshake?” he’d asked her, going for nonchalance, failing because he could never be nonchalant when talking about Steve. But he’d had to know if she’d seen something between them.
Chrissy had smiled, shaken her head. “He looked happy. I haven’t seen him look like that in a long time. And he smiled at you, and looked at you like you…put the stars in the sky, or something. And you looked at him the same way.” She’d laughed quietly, ducked her head. “Sorry, again.”
She’d left then. And Eddie had wandered around the brightly-lit Melvald’s aisles in a slight daze, forgetting what he’d even gone there to get.
Had Steve really looked at him like that? Like…like Eddie had hung the stars? Like he might actually…want something with Eddie, something more than friendship?
No.
Omegas like Steve didn’t fall for alphas like Eddie. Scrawny, weird, polarizing, irksome Eddie.
Now, in the doorway, he unsticks himself. Puts one foot after the other almost unconsciously. He’ll check the lounge, he tells himself – that’s where Steve usually is. And if he isn’t there, he’ll head upstairs and knock on his bedroom door and give Steve plenty of time to call out and let him know if he’s ok.
He needn’t have worried.
Eddie pauses in the doorway to the lounge, leans on it for a moment, can’t stop the smile that spreads slowly across his face. Ever so slowly, he lowers himself until his butt hits the floor, and he quietly watches the omega.
Steve’s sitting on the carpet, his legs crossed, head bopping in time to the music. He’s got his back to Eddie, but the alpha can picture the concentration on his face as he works.
He’s beautiful.
Golden hair long overdue for a cut but Eddie likes it like that, curling where it reaches the bottom of his neck. His frame is leaner than it used to be but his shoulders are strong, broad in the way most omegas weren’t. A soft grey sweater covers his arms, but Eddie knows there’s moles dotted across his skin, ones that Eddie had traced with his eyes countless times and dreamt about mapping out with his fingers.
Eddie’s in love with him.
Had been for some time now.
But there’s no planet on which Steve Harrington loved him back – Eddie’s been doing his best to stop even fantasizing about that, because it was only causing him hurt.
He can’t stop himself from looking, though. From letting his eyes trail down Steve’s sweater-clad back.
They linger on the hoody beside Steve. Bundled up against him, like Steve had been wearing it and gotten hot and stripped it off, maybe.
It’s Eddie’s.
The one he’d given Steve to borrow a few weeks ago. The one he kept meaning to ask to take back, but kept putting it off because he figured the longer it stayed with Steve the more it might smell like the omega when he finally got it back. Sure, maybe that’s creepy, but he can’t help himself.
The record player scratches. The music stops, and Steve frowns, looking up.
Right at Eddie.
The omega jumps, scent clouding with fright for a moment and Eddie fights the urge to close the distance between them, to soothe and hold.
“Eddie?” Steve questions. “Sorry, I never heard you come in. I, um…” He looks down, tossing the half-made creature from his hands like it’s burnt him. “I was bored, thought I’d see what all the fuss was about with Robin’s stuff, you know.”
Eddie chuffs, close to bursting with affection. “You know, I knew it was you all along. Don’t know why you wanted to hide it, you can make some pretty cool stuff.” He reaches out for the nearest creation, turns the little horse over in his palm, traces a finger up the horn on its head. “See? This is badass as hell.”
Steve ducks his head. “S’just a unicorn,” he mumbles. “They’re far easier than the dragons.”
Eddie shuffles closer to him. Knows he shouldn’t, knows he should steer this somewhere neutral, somewhere more distant, something more akin to just checking in on a friend but he can’t, he can’t. Not when Steve’s looking bashful, not when he’s awkwardly picking up a bit of paper again and folding it anxiously, not when he smells like the sea on a summer’s day and honey-sweet all at once.
“Seriously Steve, this is cool. Maybe you could make something for a campaign? Figurines are expensive, and honestly some of these are better. We could paint them, too.”
Steve looks up at him then. Really looks, and Eddie’s heart gallops in his chest at the sight of those warm brown eyes.
“I made them all for you,” Steve murmurs. “I didn’t know when I was going to give them to you, or even if I would but I tried to make ones I thought you’d like.” He holds up a half-finished dragon. “Like this, its wings are meant to flap but I haven’t got that far yet, this is the hardest one. I asked Dustin what your favourite D&D creatures are but I’m limited to what’s in the stupid book, I’m not good enough to like, invent my own stuff yet.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. Steve’s lips are moving, but Eddie had barely taken in a word since I made them all for you.
He can’t help it. Steve’s still talking, mumbling about it being embarrassing and how Eddie didn’t have to take any of the creatures when Eddie leans in and kisses him.
A surprised noise escapes the omega’s lips before he sags against Eddie, kissing him back. Eddie brings a hand to his cheek, cups it, strokes across soft skin, and Steve shuffles closer. And closer, until he’s basically climbing half into Eddie’s lap.
Steve’s hand goes to the back of Eddie’s neck. He deepens the kiss, sighs into Eddie’s mouth, squirms in his lap.
Eddie’s in heaven.
Surrounded by sea spray and honey. A soft mouth on his. Strong hands roaming across his neck, scratching softly down his back.
He can feel the happiness pouring off the warm omega in his lap, and his alpha preens at it.
Steve pulls back for a moment, rests his forehead against Eddie’s. “I wanted this for…so fucking long,” he murmurs.
“Me too,” Eddie breathes. His hand splays wide, possessive but gentle, over Steve’s back.
“I didn’t think you liked me back,” Steve admits.
“I didn’t think you liked me!” Eddie laughs, pulling a smile from Steve. “Steve Harrington, the most stunning guy I’ve ever seen, the bravest, who almost died protecting a bunch of pups that aren’t his own, liking me? The town freak? No way.”
“You aren’t a freak.”
“I sort of am.”
“Well then…I don’t care. I like it.”
“That I’m a bit freaky?” Eddie asks, eyebrow raised, just to see the omega’s cheeks flush a little.
“We’ve wasted so much time,” Steve says, almost mournfully. He shifts in Eddie’s lap, and Eddie can’t help the hiss that escapes him because Steve’s pressed right up against him.
“How about we start making up for that lost time, huh?” Eddie suggests, tongue between his teeth.
Steve’s mouth is back on his almost before he even finishes the sentence.
*****
“You know what isolation sickness is, right?” Eddie’s asking Steve.
Steve hums absently, half buried in his nest, an arm looped over Eddie’s bare waist. It had been two weeks since Eddie had walked in on Steve making his origami creatures. Two weeks of the two of them being attached at the hip, of warmth and more affection than Steve had ever experienced.
“Stevie?” Eddie prompts, poking him gently in the side, away from his still-healing wounds.
Steve laughs, then rolls even closer to the alpha. “Yeah, ‘course I know what it is. Why?”
“I think you have it,” Eddie blurts.
Steve frowns. Blinks once, twice.
He’s tired, sure. But far less than he used to be, before Eddie. His current sleepiness is more post-sex haze, basking in Eddie’s warmth, muscles thrumming quietly in satisfaction.
He runs through the symptoms in his head, the ones that had been so briefly touched on in his high school health class.
Isolation sickness: most often affecting packless omegas.
Fatigue. Lack of appetite. Prone to cold. Weight loss. Intense feelings of loneliness/depression. Excessive nesting. Poor healing. Disrupted sleep.
…oh.
Eddie was right.
Just…Steve hadn’t considered it. He wasn’t packless, as such – he had Robin, and he had the pups whenever they came over, but it wasn’t every day. Not anymore; it hadn’t been for a while. The kids were always busy, and Robin was spending more and more time with Chrissy and Steve loved that for her, had encouraged it in fact, was thrilled that his best friend had found happiness like that.
But he’s an omega all alone in an enormous empty house. Until very recently, there’d been no one to share his nest, no one for him to hold, to take care of, no one to care for him in return.
“Steve? You with me, sweetheart?” Eddie murmurs. He presses his palm to Steve’s cheek, and Steve leans into it.
He feels better whenever he’s with Eddie.
“S’just, whenever I go to work you feel like crap again, right? You’ve told me that,” Eddie continues.
Steve nods wordlessly.
“And all your symptoms line up. I think it’s what made these so hard to heal.” Eddie brushes a hand ever-so-gently over Steve’s still-bandaged sides.
Steve shivers. “I’ve felt better lately, though. With you.”
“That’s what also made me think of it.” Eddie guides Steve closer until the omega’s draped over him, chest to chest.
Steve practically purrs, can’t help it, not when he’s this close to Eddie. “So, you’re like, my cure?”
Eddie grins. “Maybe. I mean, there’s only one or two real cures for isolation sickness, right?”
Steve nods. “A close pack. Or even better…a mate.” He stares openly at Eddie. Wonders if that could possibly be what he’s hinting at, if he truly wants that with Steve.
“Exactly.”
Steve’s heart thuds in his chest. He props himself up, chin on Eddie’s chest, tracing his fingertips over the bare skin over the alpha’s ribs. “You…want that? You want to be my alpha?”
Eddie smiles. Carefully, he reaches across Steve, grabbing for his bag dumped by the bed. He rifles through it for something, then holds out a closed fist.
He clears his throat. “I was never into all this…traditional shit, but you, Steve Harrington, have made me want to do this right. And if this isn’t what you want, that’s ok, you can always say no -”
“Eddie,” Steve says softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “What is it?”
Eddie swallows, clearly nervous, then opens his hand.
Steve stares.
There’s a paper ring in his palm.
Yellow. Steve’s favourite.
It’s a little messy, the paper a bit scrunched but Steve knows from experience that circles aren’t exactly the neatest things to make.
“I know you deserve far more than this, but I can’t afford anything good enough at the moment,” Eddie babbles. “I also thought I could give you one of my own rings since this one is obviously not really wearable, and it’s also sort of shit compared to what you can make but -”
Steve kisses him. To shut him up, to show Eddie how he feels, how much he appreciates the gesture.
When he pulls back, Eddie’s eyes are wide, looking at Steve like he’s something reverent.
“So…that’s a yes?” Eddie’s voice trembles. “You’ll…you’ll let me court you? God, that sounds so stupid, especially when we kinda skipped a lot of the normal courting stage but I just wanted to make things official.”
Steve takes the crude but lovingly-made paper ring. Slips it on his finger just to make Eddie smile.
And then he’s sitting up and shuffling back to straddle Eddie’s hips.
Time to show his alpha just how much he appreciates him.
*****
The next time Steve needs to change his bandages, Eddie’s there.
The alpha had showered with him, had gently lathered soap into Steve’s skin and massaged shampoo into his scalp until Steve had been weak at the knees and his mouth open in bliss.
Eddie’s nervous to hurt him when it comes to dressing his wounds. Soon, Steve won’t even need the bandages anymore but for now they stop his clothes from catching on the fresh scars.
“So just…like this?” Eddie chews his bottom lip, gesturing awkwardly with a rolled-up bandage.
“Uh huh. Just wrap it around.” Steve lifts his arms, winces just slightly at the tug on the damaged skin.
“Ok, just tell me if it hurts.”
“It will, a little. That’s ok.”
“I don’t want to hurt -”
“Eds, it’s ok.” Steve kisses him sweetly, hushes the worried alpha.
Eddie looks back at him, wide-eyed, and starts to wind the bandage around Steve’s middle. “Too tight?”
“No, that’s good.”
Nodding, Eddie tucks the end of the bandage away securely, warm fingers brushing against Steve’s bare torso.
The omega hums lightly at the touch, at the scent of his alpha, and leans back against him. Eddie wraps his arms loosely around Steve’s waist and kisses the back of his neck.
“I love you,” Steve whispers.
Breath catches in Eddie’s throat. He noses into Steve’s scent gland below his jaw, arms tightening around his waist but he’s still cautious of the bandages – he just can’t help but hold. “I love you, too. So much.”
Steve smiles, meets his gaze in the mirror, heart swollen with affection.
In the weeks following, the two of them are practically inseparable, until Eddie has to go away for a short time.
It’s a trip with Gareth, Jeff, and Freak, one they’d been talking about for ages now – to Chicago, to the four of them getting a taste of the world outside of Hawkins, to a tiny gig on Friday night that the band had fought for.
Eddie had invited Steve.
But the omega had declined. This trip was for Eddie and his friends, and it was important that they still did things outside of each other. Steve’s isolation sickness, while well on the way to being cured, still lingered just ever so faintly - but he refused to keep Eddie from his friends.
“I’ll be fine,” he’d promised his alpha. “Have fun, enjoy your trip, and don’t worry about me.”
By the end of the week, Steve’s sickness is back with a vengeance.
Everything inside him is crying out for his alpha, for citrus and smoke, for soft hands and his soothing tone.
He’s on the couch. Blankets dragged around him as he shivers, as he refuses to contact Robin because she’s spending the weekend with Chrissy, as he refuses to call Eddie because he’ll be on his way home by now anyway and Steve won’t ruin the end of his trip.
He’s so, so tired.
Dozing off, he clutches Eddie’s hoody tight and hopes to hell he’s driving home fast.
*****
“Steve! I’m back!” Eddie calls as he heads in through the front door.
Immediately, he knows something’s wrong. Scents it in the air, Steve’s usual sweet honey smell turned slightly sour.
He follows his nose, padding down the hallway and into the lounge.
There’s origami scattered everywhere.
Half-finished sea serpents litter the carpet, there’s the remains of perhaps a griffin screwed up into a ball, a Cerberus minus one head lying on its side.
His omega is curled up in his nest on the couch, blankets and Eddie’s hoody pulled over his face, only his thick head of hair visible.
“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, stepping over the mess of paper to crouch down in front of the couch.
Still half-asleep, Steve whines, and Eddie bundles him into his arms.
“You’re home,” Steve croaks, wrapping himself around his alpha.
“I would’ve been sooner, if I’d known you were sick.” Eddie holds him close, Steve half off the couch and slumped into Eddie’s lap.
“S’fine. You’re here now. How was your last night in Chicago?”
Steve’s cold and clammy, and Eddie rubs his hands up his arms, pushing his scent out to smother his omega with it. In response, Steve hums lightly, sighing into Eddie’s neck.
“It was great, but I shouldn’t have gone,” Eddie insists.
Steve shakes his head. “You need to see friends, too. I’m glad you went, I’ll be ok now. Now that you’re here.”
Eddie kisses his cheek, his neck, his jaw, scattering his touch everywhere he can reach. “I see you’ve been busy,” he says with a soft smile, gesturing to the origami scattered everywhere.
“I’ll clean it up,” Steve mumbles, eyes closing again. “Once I’m not feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. Just…gave me something to do while you were away.”
“I’ll clean up, sweetheart. You rest, and I’ll be here the whole time, ok?”
“M’kay.”
Eddie tugs his hoody over his head, the one he’s been wearing for the day, and passes it to Steve, heart stuttering as the omega immediately takes it and holds it to his chest.
“Eds?”
“Mmm?”
“When I wake up, tell me all about your trip.”
“Deal, sweetheart. Now get some rest.”
*****
Making Steve one hundred percent well becomes Eddie’s number one goal.
And a big part of that involved cooking meals that Steve could eat, that could help him put weight back on, things that were nutritious but not too difficult because Eddie’s…not exactly the best in the kitchen.
He gets pointers from Wayne. Studies his uncle’s recipes. Trials them at home first, using Wayne as his test subject.
Some turn out ok. Others are certified disasters, leaving the alpha practically tearing out his hair and growling by the oven until Wayne calms him down and helps him start from scratch. He won’t give anything less than perfect to his omega.
Finally, he’s able to whip up a pretty good lasagne.
He makes it at Steve’s place while the latter is out with Robin. Slaves over it, even forked out for the expensive cheese, and by the time Steve comes home the house smells of rich tomato and fragrant basil.
Eddie’s squinting through the oven door when Steve wraps his arms around him from behind, rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.
“You made this for me?” Steve murmurs.
Eddie nods, watching the dish like a hawk – he’s not going to let it burn, not after all the effort he’d put in. “I’ve been practicing, but I can’t promise it’ll be any good so if you don’t like it it’s ok, I just know that you often don’t feel like eating but I thought if I start playing around with recipes maybe we’ll find something you like.”
Steve smiles into Eddie’s neck. Presses his lips against the scent gland there, hums quietly.
The kitchen reeks of happy omega, quickly drowning out the smell of food.
Eddie rumbles, deep in his chest, content.
He’s rewarded a short time later by the sight of Steve scraping the last of his plateful onto his fork. Eddie’s own serving had almost gone cold in front of him – he’s too caught up in watching Steve eat, does his best not to make it creepy but the alpha in him practically vibrates at seeing his omega enjoy something he’d made for him.
Steve kisses him afterwards. Sidles his way into Eddie’s lap, tastes a little like tomato and cheese sauce still but Eddie doesn’t care. He wraps his arms around the omega, drags him further into his lap, and licks into his mouth.
He loves him, he loves him, he loves him.
He murmurs it over and over, until Steve’s smiling and squirming and whispering it back to him.
*****
They go for walks in the park, coffee in hand, fingers intertwined.
Movie dates. Enzo’s. The diner. Bundles of origami flowers presented with shy smiles. Together, they drive the kids around – to the arcade, the library, the school. Double dates with Robin and Chrissy.
Eddie’s at Steve’s side as much as possible, doting on him in any way he can, and Steve returns his every effort.
When summer arrives, excursions to Lover’s Lake become a regular activity.
At first, both Steve and Eddie had stood on the shore, toes in the water, unsure.
Because the last time they’d been here there’d been a gate to a hellscape underneath them, a vine dragging Steve down, down, down, cops searching for them in the trees, a shock of cold water and chaos and running and blood.
It’s all gone now.
Finally, Steve had taken Eddie’s hand, smiled softly, and they’d walked slowly on in together.
Now, Eddie lies on the little jetty, stretched out in the shade of a tree because he’ll burn to a crisp in an instant. Unlike his omega, with his tanned, sun-kissed skin, who could stay out for hours without even turning pink.
He watches fondly as Steve dunks Robin under the water, laughing as she comes up spluttering and splashing at him. Chrissy and Robin team up on him, cackling as Chrissy grabs his arm and Robin presses his head under the water – briefly, only for a moment, she’d never hurt him, and that stills the rising urge of Eddie’s alpha to protect – and Eddie smiles and shakes his head at their antics.
Steve looks over to him, water dripping from his hair, tracking down his chest and over healed scars and Eddie follows every drop with barely-contained hunger.
His omega smiles, brighter than the sun.
Eddie feels like the luckiest alpha on earth.
“Love you,” Steve mouths to him, and then Robin’s splashing him again, tearing his attention away from Eddie.
Eddie doesn’t mind. Steve’s got plenty of love to go around.
*****
“Henderson! Pick that shit up, don’t leave your trash everywhere!” Steve huffs.
He’s in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring daggers at the kid currently leaving candy wrappers all over the couch. Wisely, Dustin complies, gathering them all up while mumbling an apology.
Eddie smirks at the exchange, his expression softening when Steve looks over to him.
God, he’s weak for him.
Eddie gulps, forgets what the hell he’s meant to be doing in favour of just staring at his omega.
He’s beautiful.
He always was, but Eddie swears it’s more apparent every day.
Over the last few months Steve had gained weight, the colour had reappeared in his cheeks, he’d grown strong and fit and healthy again. All under the doting care of Eddie – he’d made sure Steve got to his appointments, held him close at night until Steve fell asleep mid-purr more often than not, continued perfecting meals until even Wayne - home cook extraordinaire - was impressed.
Perhaps the most important part, though, was that Steve had gotten out of the house he’d hated so much.
The Harrington house now stood empty at the end of a near-deserted street, and Steve’s isolation sickness was a thing of the past. Eddie had chased it from his veins with gentle hands and an eager mouth.
There wasn’t a lot of room in Eddie and Wayne’s replacement house on the outskirts of Hawkins, but they’d readily made space for Steve. The omega had been lonely for too long, and Eddie did everything he could to make up for it – he practically smothered him in affection. At first, he’d worried that he’d be too much for Steve. Too touchy, too in-his-space, too clingy.
But Steve had taken everything Eddie had to offer, and had poured it back tenfold.
His nest is now where it belongs – in Eddie’s bed. Full of their shared scents, of clothing items Steve had collected from those closest to him, of blankets Eddie can’t stop spending his wages on because he just wants to give and give to his omega. Eddie’s hoody is still there. So is his bandanna, the one Eddie had purposely left behind on Steve’s couch all those months ago.
There’s origami everywhere.
Scattered across the bedside table, sitting on the windowsills, lining Eddie’s bookshelves.
Eddie treasures everything his omega makes. Even the ones Steve complains are shit, that he hadn’t folded quite right – Eddie loves anything born from that boy’s hands.
Steve had tried to teach him how to make a simple crane, but Eddie lacked the talent Steve had in that department. Instead, he’s content to watch with a book in his hands while the omega works away on his creations.
And now, as Eddie sets up for their next campaign, there’s several paper creatures behind his DM board.
He can’t wait to use them.
“Alright, little shrimps, it’s ready,” Eddie announces, grinning as the pups lunge for their chairs around the table.
Mike and Dustin are bickering about something already, and Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Hey, hey, enough!” Steve claps his hands after Mike kicks at Dustin’s ankle under the table. “Cut that out.”
The two boys fall silent, turning their attention to the game.
Eddie smiles. He might be the only alpha in the room, but no one could wrangle the pups like Steve.
“…in the dark of night, in the middle of the woods, you and your comrades run into something you don’t expect…” Eddie narrates a short way into the session.
Dramatically, he places an origami dragon in the middle of the table.
Will gasps, and Dustin leans in closer, then smiles as he recognizes the little green dragon with the moving wings.
Eddie glances up while the party discusses their options. Locks eyes with Steve, where the omega’s leaning against the doorway, watching the game. The alpha’s gaze trails down just slightly, hovering over the healed mating bite on Steve’s neck.
He smiles at Eddie. Warm eyes crinkling, auburn bangs falling across his face.
Eddie’s never felt so in love in all his life.
