Steve: ... Eds, Do You Want To Talk About It?

Steve: ... Eds, do you want to talk about it?

Eddie: *laying face down on the floor* Why would you automatically assume that something is wrong?

Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.

Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-

“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”

Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”

Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.

Dustin frowned. “Go where?”

“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”

“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”

Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.

He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.

“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”

Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”

Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”

“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”

“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”

“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”

“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”

“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”

“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”

Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”

Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”

Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.

“‘S fine.”

“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”

Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”

“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”

Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”

“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”

Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”

“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”

Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”

“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”

“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”

“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”

Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”

“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”

Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”

Eddie: I'm an idiot

Robin:

Steve:

Jonathan:

Nancy:

Argyle:

Robin: If you're waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day

Robin: I know you're deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are

Steve: *crying* It's not a joke, I’m a legit snack

Steve: Why do people keep saying that they make a "mean dish"? Why's it gotta be mean? Why does everything have to be evil? So much hate in the world...

Steve: I make a tender, caring roast chicken that'll kiss you so, so much

Eddie’s been well aware of his feelings towards Steve, ever since his heart still managed to skip a beat even while running for his life in a nightmare alternate dimension, just because Steve was in his line of vision; all he could think was Well, shit, this is pretty fucking inconvenient.

(What he’d meant was inevitable.)

But he doesn’t act on it, doesn’t dare to even think of it being as serious as love or he’s the goddamn one, not until…

It starts as a small thing. He’s still getting back into the swing of playing the guitar just for fun, just for him—when the mood strikes him, he fiddles away at his acoustic until some kind of tune forms, nothing all that complicated.

Wayne had got him a new stack of blank tapes, and he records himself singing a few times, improvising lyrics that end up sounding a bit like folk songs he’s heard in his childhood.

“Which one’s better?” he asks Steve idly on a cloudy afternoon; they’re long past the stage where he feels nervous at the thought of Steve hearing him sing, a familiarity grown between them: something more than just ‘forced’ bonding through near-apocalyptic circumstances.

He plays a tape while they lounge on the bed, and the second version of the song is barely over when Steve begins to speak.

And Eddie isn’t really expecting him to give a serious answer, because, well, the singing isn’t all that serious, honestly. The recording isn’t professional, his lyrics chop and change, the melody loses its way a bit in the middle before returning; it’s hardly the kind of thing a producer would play in an idealistic movie and say kid, I’m gonna make you a star.

(That’s not why Eddie’s recording, anyway. It’s more to prove something to himself: this hasn’t been taken from you. It can still make you happy.)

“Oh, this one, no question,” Steve says, with such confidence that Eddie almost wonders if he’s gonna reveal that in between the whole side hustles of Family Video and killing real D&D monsters, he is, in fact, a producer.

“Hmm, interesting. Why?”

Steve shrugs, brushing against Eddie with the movement, like he’s saying isn’t it obvious?

“I can hear you smiling in this one,” Steve says.

And Eddie…

Just stops for a moment. Like a song left on pause.

He’s unable to stop the question that comes spilling out.

“Can I, uh… Steve. Can I kiss you?”

The soft rustle of sheets; Steve’s face is suddenly so close that Eddie closes his eyes on impulse.

“Thought you were never gonna ask,” Steve says, and Eddie can hear his smile so clearly—and when their lips meet, he feels the shape of it, too, feels the smile grow as his song flows on, a joy that cannot be contained.