Archive of Our Own ^beta

If you had of asked Steve a year ago what he thought of Eddie Munson, he would have probably said something shitty, if he hadn’t of simply said ‘who?’ which probably would have been even more insulting to the metalhead.

Eddie was a guy who liked to be noticed, to be remembered, but Steve had been a massive dick in high school who wouldn’t have deserved to know someone like Eddie. Now, he’s better and frankly, Steve doesn’t think he could forget the metalhead if he even tried. He also doesn’t want to, because… God, Eddie is just… Steve doesn’t know how to put exactly how he feels into words, there are too many emotions, but if he’s being honest? Fondness, awe, adoration.

Because, after the Upside Down, after months in close quarters while Eddie healed, and then weeks more just hanging out, they’d, well, started something. It had first happened when they’d been tipsy and high. Eddie had mentioned shotgunning their joint which had led to outright kissing, then making out and then Eddie’s hands down his pants.

The next morning he’d had all of a half hour before Eddie woke up to freak out, deal with it, and realise demogorgons were a lot fucking scarier than having had a guy get him off. And so, when Eddie had started to freak out and spew apologises, he’d leant over and kissed the metalhead.

Then, fully sober, they’d gotten off again.

And that was that.

Suddenly, and without any prior hints or warnings, Steve had found himself with a dude—in a relationship with a dude. Kissing, making out, spending the night. It was… fuck, it was really good, even if it was still a secret from almost everyone.

So far, only Robin and Wayne knew.

Robin, the day it happened, because he’d needed to word-vomit what had happened to her (making her squeal, jump up and down and then hit him for getting a gay kiss before she did) and Wayne, a few weeks later, because he’d come home early and caught them making out on the couch.

Steve had never felt so utterly panicked until Wayne had merely huffed at them and declared, “Better not be more than kissing on any surface I damn well sit on.”

They’d both blushed to the roots of their hair and Eddie had grumbled at his uncle while Steve had apologised and hurriedly shoved on his shirt—but Wayne had chuckled at them good-naturedly. He’d also pulled Steve aside before he’d left for the day, promising, “Known about Eddie for years. Not about to share either of your secrets. But you’re always welcome here, you hear? You’re a good one and I’m glad my Eds has you.”

And that had been good. Everything had been good.

The only part that sucks is keeping it quiet, is that they can’t exactly go to the movies and call it a date or act like they’re a couple without getting beat up—but, Steve still loves it. He loves being in a relationship, he loves having his heart race at the sight of the metalhead or hearing his laugh.

God, if he’s being honest, he loves Eddie, but he’s not ready to say that—not after what happened with Nancy. Those wounds still feel raw and he and Eddie are still only a few months in. They’re new. So, you know, he’s building up to that. Starting small.

It’s their three-month anniversary of the first night and he wants to celebrate it. He wants to act like they’re proper boyfriends, even if they can’t do it out in public. He’s got it all set; a new cassette that Eddie has been eyeing off, some of his favourite chocolates in a heart shaped box (because fuck it, he likes doing romantic stuff and Eddie can tell him it’s lame as much as he wants, but he bets Eddie will still like it) and a set of D&D dice that he bought. He knows Eddie has plenty, but they’re not for the metalhead they’re for him, because he’s going to let Eddie teach him the game.

That’s what he’s hoping they can do for the day: hang out at his house with Eddie’s music playing as Eddie teaches him D&D. Then, they’ll have dinner, watch a movie and Eddie will spend the night and they can cuddle and hold hands. They can be all couple-y with no threat of anyone walking in and seeing them.

He’s genuinely so excited for it, and while he’s not sure Eddie knows it’s their anniversary (he doesn’t really blame him. He knows Eddie hasn’t really dated anyone before what with being gay and this being Hawkins) he knows that the metalhead shows his care in other ways.

Eddie’s hugs him all the time, which always makes him melt. His flirtatious compliments when they’re out in public have tripled and it lets him know that he’s on the metalhead’s mind, even if he can’t be in the other boy’s arms. Eddie brings him medicine if he has a migraine and snacks or smokes on his Family Video shifts. And when they are alone, Eddie leans up against him at every available opportunity.

When they spend the night together (which is most nights) Eddie curls around him, legs tangled, arms holding him at the waist. Steve loves the mornings he spends at the trailer; waking up to Eddie snuffling softly against the back of his neck, the other boy’s room familiar and so Eddie.

God, he never wants to leave.

Today is one such morning, it’s also the day of their three-month anniversary. Only, instead of having Eddie in bed, where he can roll over and murmur a good morning and a happy anniversary, the space beside him is empty. But he can hear the faint sound of conversation in another part of the trailer, meaning Wayne’s home and Eddie must have gone out to greet him. Steve doesn’t mind waking up alone when he knows Eddie’s only a few metres away.

Normally, he’ll grab and hug Eddie’s pillow, maybe doze off for a bit and then go out to drape himself around Eddie. He’ll then say hello to Wayne, get a cup of coffee handed to him and smile as he looks over whichever Munson mug he’s gained that morning.

But today is their anniversary and Steve’s almost tingling with the excitement of surprising him with his gifts. In fact, it’s enough to have him push out of bed without his usual lazy enjoyment of Eddie’s room. He stands up, stretches and walks towards the cracked-open bedroom door. It’s only when he gets there and pulls it a little bit further that he can clearly hear the Munson men’s voices.

“Christ, would you give it a rest, Wayne?” Eddie says shortly.

Steve hesitates, not opening it any further. From what he knows about their relationship, Wayne and Eddie rarely fight. If they’re actually having a disagreement, he doesn’t want to get in the middle of it.

“Steve’s spent another night here…”

Steve’s stomach drops, something sick churning in his stomach that Wayne doesn’t want him here, that his earlier words about always being welcome were a lie—but Eddie’s already speaking.

“So?” Eddie demands, scoffing. “That doesn’t mean shit, Wayne.”

“Eddie—”

“I fucking told you,” he snaps. “We’re just fucking around, so don’t get attached to him. This'll be over by the end of the year. Stop thinking it’s something else, because you’re wrong, Wayne.”

The blood rushes through Steve’s ears. He can’t hear anything else, just his own heartbeat and those words like a sledgehammer to the chest, mixing in with the other ones that broke his heart.

We’re just fucking around. Stop thinking it’s something else.

It’s bullshit. You’re bullshit.

Steve swallows hard, but he still tastes bile.

Jesus Christ. How had he missed it? How had had done it a second time? He’d thought… he’d really thought he and Eddie had been… that they’d…

Steve turns away, eyes stinging and fists clenching. He swallows hard, his chest aching. But fuck, at least he hadn’t had to get it spat in his face this time to learn the truth.

Message fucking received.

And suddenly, the thought of staying here even a second longer is one too many. Steve hunts around, grabbing his jeans and polo shirt, yanking them on and trying not to look too hard at everything about the room that is so Eddie.

D&D notebooks, band posters and metal cassettes. The strewn clothes from the night before and Eddie’s rings in a bowl from where he’d pulled them off before bed. A pack of cigarettes beside them, the ones he’d bought Eddie a few days ago when he’d run out, getting a ‘thanks sweetheart’ and a flashed smile that had made his heart flutter.

They were all the things that were usually synonymous with comfort and fondness, but now makes him feel sick. God, how could he have been so fucking dumb?

Steve gets his clothes on and then his shoes, taking a few deep breaths to prepare for facing the Munsons. He’s the one who fucked up, who got it wrong. He’s not going to let Eddie see how much the truth has gutted him.

Pushing open the door, his eyes are immediately drawn to Eddie in the kitchen making a coffee, his back to the room. Wayne is sitting on the couch with the paper. He looks up and smiles at him. Steve smiles tightly back. But it’s not Wayne’s fault. It’s not anybody’s fault but his own.

“Mornin’, Steve,” Wayne says, eyeing his outfit. “Not staying for breakfast?”

“Thanks, Wayne, but I can’t.”

Wayne nods, already going back to his paper. He’s a man of few words and little questions and Steve really appreciates that right now. Eddie, however, is less accepting.

“You didn’t mention you can’t stay,” he says, coming out of the kitchen with a frown.

Steve shrugs, already walking to the clothes rack and grabbing his jacket. He doesn’t look at Eddie as he shoves it on.

“Yeah, forgot I promised Robin I’d head over.”

He isn’t sure Eddie is going to buy it, the excuse feels flimsy as shit, but after a beat, Eddie says, “Well, okay. Say hi to birdie for me, sweetheart.”

It takes everything Steve has not to flinch at the nickname. It usually makes him feel warm from head-to-toe, but now it brings a sickening dread.

“Yeah, sure will,” he mutters, still unable to look the metalhead in the eye. “Later, Eds.”

Steve manages to get the door open and he’s half outside when Eddie calls, “Steve!”

He bites his lip, debating for a long moment before turning around. He plasters on a smile he hasn’t given Eddie for months—his fake smile. “Yeah, Eds?”

Eddie frowns like he’s not sure he believes it, but Steve’s expression never wavers and after a long moment, Eddie’s concern smooths out. He flashes a cheeky smile and says, “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Definitely isn’t a party without you, Eds,” Steve quips automatically.

“Damn right,” Eddie insists, the last of his tension smoothing out. “See you later, Stevie.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, but the words taste like ash. “See you.”

He finally turns away and is able to leave without another call of his name. He gets into his car, and it’s only because Eddie is watching that he doesn’t collapse against the steering wheel. His hands don’t even shake, he pulls out of the trailer park as if nothing’s wrong, because he’s had good practice at pretending the world isn’t cracking open beneath his feet.

But deep inside, he knows it’s not going to last. He knows that the moment he gets home and no one is watching, he’s going to feel every inch of pain that Eddie’s words have layered onto him.

We’re just fucking around. This'll be over by the end of the year.

How could he have been so fucking stupid?

Steve doesn’t have an answer for that, although he tries to think of one for the next few hours. It’s torture, plain and simple, but what the fuck else is he meant to do? He sure as hell isn’t going to start preparing for the three-month anniversary dinner he’d planned to make.

He thinks about throwing all the gifts in the bin, even gets as far as dragging them out of the back of his closet and to the kitchen before he just… can’t. He leaves them on the counter. He even picks up the phone to call Robin, trying it three times but stopping at the last second.

He doesn’t want to hear Robin say she knew it all along, that she’d seen the signs and hadn’t wanted to break his heart—or worse, that she’s just as shocked as him, until she thinks about it, really analyses their so-called relationship and agrees with Eddie.

Like maybe the ‘you suck’ board had been hanging there all along, he’d just been the moron who refused to see it. Because he really was bullshit. He was also incapable of realising when the people he was dating, the people he loved didn’t even love him back.

And it’s that horrible thought that is resting heavy and haunting on his mind, pricking his eyes and making him scrub his face, when he hears the knock at the door. He doesn’t move from the couch to answer it. He hopes they will go away.

Instead, the door opens—because he was a fucking idiot who didn’t lock it.

“Steve?” He cringes at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “You around, man? Your car's out front, and, gonna be honest, I got a bit worried when Robin said you hadn’t shown up. That you hadn’t planned on showing up.”

Steve doesn’t bother to move, or answer, he just stares at the ceiling. His heart feels like it’s in his throat and everything aches.

We’re just fucking around. This'll be over by the end of the year. Stop thinking it’s something else.

“Steve, man?” Eddie continues, starting to sound really worried, but his voice is also quieter, like he’s talking to himself now. “Fuck. Fuck, please don’t be a code red. Please don’t be the Upside Down.”

And it’s the one thing that can drag Steve off the couch, make him stand up and stop hiding—because whatever he might be feeling, he doesn’t want any of them to worry it’s that again.

“It’s not the Upside Down,” he calls.

There’s a moment of nothing before the sound of Eddie’s footsteps changing direction and coming closer. Steve stiffens his shoulders and steels his resolve—but when Eddie walks into the room, it still hits hard.

Eddie is just so Eddie. He’s in his ripped jeans, a Judas Priest shirt and his leather jacket. His hair’s a mess and his smile is bright, his expression relieved.

“Christ, way to give a guy a heart attack, Stevie.”

Steve clenches his jaw and he knows his body locks up further because Eddie stops his approach, frown coming back. He tilts his head.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?”

And goddamn it, but it’s the ‘sweetheart’ that does it, said so casually as if it means something. It cracks him.

“Why would something be the fucking matter?” he snaps. “Surprised you even fucking turned up.”

Eddie blinks, owlish and confused. “Huh? You asked me to come over? To like, spend the night? And yeah, it’s early but you said—”

“What? You didn’t have something better to do?”

Eddie’s frown is back. “Uh. Kind of confused here, Steve. What else would I be doing?”

Steve scoffs and turns away. He wraps his arms around his waist, hugging himself and trying to keep from falling apart. He’s not going to fucking beg or try and crawl back to Eddie like he did to Nancy.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks, voice turning soft. He also pads closer. “Sweetheart, why—”

“Shut up with that.”

“With what?” Eddie asks, still so soft and soothing, like he’s a wild animal that needs taming—like he always talks after a nightmare when Steve forgets where he is and that he’s safe.

It’s that memory; of nights with Eddie, being talked down and then held like he’s precious that lowers his guard. Eddie touches his arm and he jerks. He spins around, but Eddie is right there, all worried gaze and careful touch.

“Steve—”

“I fucking heard you,” Steve says, hoarse and aching.

Eddie blinks, numerous times. “You heard me? What was I doing?”

Steve laughs harshly, because of course he doesn’t know, of course it doesn’t even register as a huge fucking event to him.

“I heard you talking to Wayne,” he grits out.

Something changes in Eddie’s face, something that Steve can’t really read, but it’s like Eddie pulls back a little from him, even if physically he’s right there and present and still touching his arm.

“Yeah? So? What was the problem about it?”

Steve laughs again, but god, it feels more like he’s going to sob. He yanks away from Eddie. He keeps his arms around his stomach as he walks away.

“Steve!” Eddie calls, rushing to follow. “Steve? What? What’s the problem? I don’t understand why you—”

Steve reaches the kitchen and scoops everything up in one smooth move. He then turns around and thrusts it angry and hurt right into Eddie’s chest. Eddie grabs it on instinct. He stares at the items in his arms with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock.

“It wasn’t just fucking, okay?” Steve snaps. “It was… I thought we were fucking dating, Eddie. And I get it, fuck, who the hell wants me if it’s not sex or reputation or some other… other bullshit.” He shuts his eyes, grits his teeth, but forces himself to look back at Eddie. The metalhead looks like he’s just been slapped—and that does it, the anger draining away as he slumps. “I really thought it was more,” he whispers. “I didn’t realise this wasn’t an anniversary to you, that it was just,” he laughs mirthlessly, “nothing, and over by the end of the goddamn year.”

Steve knows whatever is coming next is going to hurt. He’s ready for awkward apologises, Eddie outright ending things with him, he does not expect Eddie to drop everything in his arms like it’s nothing, like his gifts are rubbish.

They hit the floor and Steve flinches, his heart cracks—but then Eddie’s hands are on his cheeks, pulling him in until their foreheads are pressed together.

“Steve, Steve, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Stevie, I love you.”

Steve’s body locks up, his breath catches and he stares in shock, but it’s Eddie’s turn to talk—to babble.

“Fuck, Steve. Fuck. I thought you were… holy—I’ve wanted you so much and for so long, Steve. Like, when we hooked up the first time, drunk and goddamn high, I thought I’d ruined everything, but then you kissed me again, and holy shit, Steve. I was in goddamn heaven.” Eddie steps up and over the gifts, their chests flush and like he can’t bear to stay apart. “I wanted to keep you so fucking badly and I was so afraid you’d get over fucking around with me. You’d realise my huge crush and run back to girls.”

And that makes no sense.

“Eddie, why would I—”

“Because you’re Steve Harrington,” Eddie insists, sounding desperate, like he needs to be understood. “You wouldn’t… you couldn’t pick me long-term, okay? It would get boring or too much and you’d find a girl and it’d be over. So, I had to… I had to prepare, okay? Had to go ‘no way is he looking at me like that’ or ‘no way is this a date, it’s just hooking up and hanging out’ and fucking god, Steve. I’ve been killing myself hoping you might one day grow to like me but all along I’ve just been trying to have as much of you as I could.”

“Eddie,” he whispers, aching for the metalhead and feeling a growing giddy relief over what it means. “Eds.”

Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat and kisses him. Steve groans. He kisses back, his fingers tangling in Eddie’s hair as he drags him even closer. Eddie whimpers, breaking the kiss if only to pepper more of them over his face.

“Steve,” he whispers in between each one. “Sweetheart. Stevie.”

“Eds,” Steve murmurs, grabbing Eddie’s hands and linking their fingers, squeezing tightly.

“I didn’t mean it,” Eddie promises, “at the trailer. I didn’t. Wayne’s said we’ve been dating for ages and I can’t—couldn’t hear it. Can’t have his hope or I’m going to fucking break when you dump me and I—”

“I’m not fucking dumping you,” Steve says, laughing a little giddily. “I love you too, you fucking dork.”

Eddie’s breath catches before he squeezes Steve’s hands, only to let him go and grab him in the tightest, most encompassing and loving hug. Eddie’s face presses against his hair and he breathes in shakily.

“Love you so much, Stevie.” And then, with a small sad sniff. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Steve shakes his head, because—“I should have said something. Thought we both knew.”

“So glad I know now.” Eddie squeezes him again, only pulling back to say, a little stricken. “It’s our anniversary?”

“Three months,” Steve agrees, smiling faintly. “Wanted to celebrate with you.”

“And I fucked it up,” Eddie says, looking horrified and guilty.

Steve shakes his head, brushing a thumb over Eddie’s cheek. “No, babe. You helped us fix it.”

But Eddie still looks distressed. “I gotta buy you flowers. I gotta make up for this.”

Steve snorts. “Eds. Just be here, with me.” He smiles, still feeling a little shy about it. “I wanna spend the day with my boyfriend, okay?”

It takes a second for the word to register and then Eddie is flushed and looking just as shy as Steve feels.

“Boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend,” he says firmly.

“Guess I won’t argue that,” he mumbles. “But I’m still gonna get you something, Steve. And I’m not ever going to miss an anniversary again, okay?” He grips Steve’s hand, squeezing tightly. “Because we’re gonna have more, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, feeling his chest flood with warmth and happiness. “We’re gonna have a lot more.”

And to seal the promise, he leans forward and kisses Eddie. His boyfriend immediately kisses him back, and Steve feels the last of his anger and sadness fade away as if it was never there. Because, even though it had hurt to get here, Steve is glad it happened. He’s glad they’re both here; on the same page and certain about how much they both care.

And even though it started rocky, Steve thinks this will turn out a great first anniversary. Because he has Eddie in his arms, their love mutual and the promise of a future together spreading out before them—and what is a better outcome than that?