Nightingales

We know that Facebook is brainscorching your parents and tiktok is brainscorching your cousins, but some of you refuse to admit that you got your brain scorched here. However unlike those sites there isn't an algorithm here you just make bad choices.

An Unexpected Gift

written for ‘alone’ | wc: 999 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-season four, pre-relationship, fluff, steve has a crush on eddie, eddie has no clue

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Part One Part Two

Winter break was in full force in Hawkins, complete with a post-Christmas Day bash at the Harrington residence. And after a full day or more stuck with their extended families, the student body was desperate to let loose.

Cue Eddie and his little black lunchbox.

The timing was perfect. His usual customers would have run through their stashes from before school let out, and he could even up charge a little extra when people tried to give him shit. Even then, he was still their cheapest option.

The extra cash would be worth having to convince Wayne to drop him off, still without his van. If he played his cards right, his haul from the party might be enough that he could finally take his van into the shop and stop having to share the pickup with his uncle.

So, perched on his usual armchair and nursing a watered-down rum and coke, Eddie pilfered out the goods. Only a few people noticed the lightly higher prices Eddie asked for, and even then, they wanted their weed more than they wanted to argue.

The house wasn’t decorated very extravagantly, so most everyone looked like everyone else in the dim light of the living room. A customer was a customer, and hard cash was hard cash.

He cleared his lunchbox just about halfway through the party, though he wasn’t sure just how much he’d made in profit. He made a point not to whip out the cash from the pocket inside his jacket with so many people around.

After that, Eddie didn’t exactly need to lurk around. He pulled out his backpack for the lunchbox, and the heavier coat he’d laid on the chair’s arm next to him.

One last unlucky customer sidled up to him.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve said, standing there in a trademark striped polo and dark jeans.

“Hey,” Eddie said back, settling his jacket over his front. He gave a strained smile. “Uh, I’m all out for the night. Sorry.”

Steve hadn’t always bought from Eddie, and he never seemed to mind when Eddie sold at his parties. But he rarely bought by himself, usually serving as the bank from which his friends funded their drug habits.

“No, I was actually wondering if I could ask you something.” Steve rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Upstairs, if that’s alright? Alone?”

This was a bad idea. It was one thing for Steve to associate with him in the anonymity of the crowded mall, but there were only certain thoughts that went through people’s minds when Steve Harrington took people upstairs toward his bedroom.

And Eddie was not one of those people.

More like the opposite.

“Five minutes,” Steve promised. “I’ll even walk you out.”

“Not necessary, Harrington.” Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped past Steve, his beeline for the stairs serving as his answer to Steve.

They weaved past the drunk and/or high partygoers lining the stairs. With Eddie going first, he assumed that the strange looks he was getting was less than he if he’d been following Steve.

Who knew who had seen him go straight into the King’s bedroom.

He took a place in the center of the room, hands tucked firmly in his jacket pockets and backpack on his shoulder. Steve closed the door behind him, but he didn’t notice Eddie’s highly-raised brows, instead heading straight for his dresser.

Steve picked up a wide, white box and turned, holding it straight out toward Eddie.

“I didn’t know we were doing a gift exchange,” Eddie said.

“It’s just…something I thought you’d like.” Steve shrugged one shoulder, still holding the box. “I don’t expect, like, reciprocation or anything.”

Eddie peered at the top of the box, where a line of blue text spelled out ‘Bloomingdale’s.’ Eddie leveled his gaze at Steve, but all he got in return was seeing Steve nervously bite at his lower lip.

Eddie took the box.

He heard Steve swallow hard as Eddie worked off the fitted cardboard lid, taking it before Eddie had to ask. Letting Eddie see the garment inside in all its surprising glory.

“It’s—”

“They had one in black, like you’d said.” Steve pointed to the gift, as if Eddie couldn’t see exactly what he was holding.

It was the jacket from that day at the mall. Stiff, because it was new, but clean denim with bright silver buttons on the breast pockets and down the front. The only difference: black, instead of blue.

Eddie dragged his hand across the fabric, remembering how warm the one he’d tried on had been. The warmth that came from nicely made stuff.

“You actually remembered that?” he said.

Steve fucking shrugged again, like he just went around remembering random bits of trivia from people he should never be associating with, much less buying Christmas presents.

The worst thing? Eddie wanted to keep it.

It would be a lot harder for Steve to try and take the gift back if Eddie had it safely in his own closet. Refusing the gift meant Steve could just return it.

Was Eddie supposed to refuse it?

He knew one thing for sure.

Steve Harrington was confusing the hell out of him.

“I’m planning another party. For New Year’s,” Steve said, breaking up the silence of Eddie’s indecision. His hand still on the jacket, Eddie looked him, mouth surely hanging open. Steve pursed his mouth, seemingly unsure of his own words. “If you want to plan…to be there.”

Eddie would have been there regardless. Didn’t usually get an invite to these things.

He narrowed his eyes toward Steve, who he was sure hadn’t not looked nervous since he first walked up to Eddie in the living room.

“I’ll think about it,” he said slowly. He lifted the jacket from the box, officially accepting the gift and tossed the bottom part onto Steve’s bed. As he headed for the door, he added, “And, thank you. For the jacket.”

“Don’t mention it."

reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

Mistake P2

TW: Angst, internalised homophobia, homophobia

Steve is scared. For two days. He's felt fear like this before. When Tommy had given him a funny look for looking at a skirt too long, or for not wanting to use fag, or for when Steve leant on him too long.

or around his dad.

He hated the way his belly churned, how his brain wouldn't stop coming up with different scenarios. The upside down was less scary than this. Robin called round once, but he didn't want her to see him, bleeding noes and hiding in fear.

He didn't want her to know.

It would ruin everything, their friendship.

He'd probably ruined it already, by being so stupid, by not thinking before he acted. Maybe if he had thought about it more, he would have seen that kissing Eddie Munson was not the best idea.

Steve curled tighter in his bed.

He thought….

He'd just thought. They were so close. Eddie liked to cuddle, Eddie touched him, so much more than Tommy ever did. Eddie was accepting of the weird and the wonderful.

Of Robin.

Steve sobbed. But not him. Not the kiss. Not them.

He cried.

Cried and cried until he had nothing left, until his face felt dry and his throat hoarse.

Then he got up. He got up and he washed his face, he put the peas from the freezer on his nose and he locked away his heart. It was fine. He would be fine.

Like he always was.

Robin hunted him down the day after, a million and one questions about his nose, but he just told her he walked into the door. Steve didn't want his stupid impulsive action to ruin what they all had, after all Dustin's birthday was tomorrow and he had to be fine.

He was fine.

He and Eddie looked at each other over the crowd at Dustin's, eyes catching one another. Steve feels his heart rate go up, but Dustin is pulling him away, dragging him over to something and he can breathe again.

He could breathe.

As long as he avoided Eddie. He could do that.

It was almost impossible in the small house, but Steve was good at mingling, good at talking to people and as long as he was talking to…

"Hey kid, was lookin' for ya. Got that repair kit you were looking for,"

Wayne. Fuck. Wayne.

Steve's shaking. He doesn't realise it till Wayne's looking at him funny. He liked Wayne, kind man, always talking to him about fixing stuff up, baseball.

He'd thought…

Steve doesn't know what he thought. He'd told Wayne, in the quiet of the night after a game they'd watched.

How he'd always felt a bit different, how he never felt like he fit in any one box and Wayne had said he'd understood. That sometimes love took different forms. That he was glad that he and Eddie had grown close, hasn't seen Eddie look at anyone the way he looks at Steve.

That Steve wasn't alone.

Because someone different had once meant something to Wayne, meant the world to Wayne even though it didn't mean nothing to society.

"Y-yeah. Ill come get it some time Wayne, thanks,"

"Nothing to it kid, you okay? Ya nose is kinda blue,"

Steve twitches, "Nah, it's fine, just walked into a door,"

"Steve,"

Steve whips around so fast he sends the tray of sandwhiches behind him flying. His back is pressed against the wall, body in flight before h can even think about it.

The room is silent.

All he can see are Eddie's eyes. Those big eyes staring back at him. Fear mirrored inside them.

Fear. Why would there be fear, Eddie's not the one who got punched in the face. Steve feels a sudden surge of anger churn his belly.

He needs to leave. Needs to get out of there.

"I have to- I have to go, Dustin sorry," he mumbles as he stumbles out of the house.

Away from the questions.

Away from Eddie.

"Steve wait!"

Steve doesn't.

"Steve please,"

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just let me go. I need to go. I can't. I can't do this right now Eddie. I'm sorry. I'll just.. i'll leave. thanks for not saying anything I guess,"

"Steve no. I- no. I'm saying sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. Even if you're queer."

Steve doesn't know how many times he'll flinch that day. He stares at Eddie who now that he's actually looking at him, looks a mess.

"Even if? Are you fucking serious?"

"No I meant-

"What the fuck?"

They both turn to see Dustin, who's staring at them with huge eyes. Steve's fear returns, a cold icicle in his belly. Fuck. Dustin. Fuck.

But Dustin isn't looking at him. He's looking at Eddie.

"You hit Steve?" Dustin repeats.

"No- "It's not-

"That's what you said. That's what you just said. You hit Steve for being queer,"

Eddie's mouth flaps helplessly.

"Get out. Get the fuck out of my party,"

"Dusty, no, it's fine. It's not like that," Steve tries, doesn't want this to draw a rift any further.

"How else is it Steve? What the fuck else would he mean?" Dustin says, Steve's never heard him so cold. "That's not fucking cool Eddie. I thought you were cool. But you're just another bully,"

Eddie runs.

And Steve watches.

and Wayne curses.

Here <- Previous Part | Next Part -> Here

--- Authors Note: this will have a good ending! I'm just trying to dig into that feeling of messed up emotions from being told one thing your life and not processing it properly. Please don't hate Eddie to much, he's going through it.

Actor Steve and normal guy Eddie modern AU inspired by this post @kingdomvel

Part 3 || Part 4

▪️▪️▪️

For the first time in years Steve found himself free on a Friday night. Between working, going on press tours, doing stupid interviews, making appearances at bougie Hollywood parties and, on occasion, attempting to go on dates, his time was always occupied by something. Filming had yet to really pick up since there were some permit issues getting a hold of time and space for shooting at Wrigley Field. Another plus to getting his role, with the rewards yet to be reaped. Playing baseball on Wrigley Field. So his morning was merely scheduled training with the other cast members, training as a baseball team to better act as one made sense. That also meant he got home to his way too big and too empty house in Malibu just before roomie dinner should the stars align to have one. Robin, despite her being his extremely talented PR manager, was also his roommate and best friend. She had her night filled with organizing press tours and interviews for the new movie, but he had an inkling it was more to do with Robin wanting to spend more time with LA Times Journalist, Nancy Wheeler.

“It’s just a business dinner! Don’t you want someone who will actually ask good questions for once and not shit like ‘what hair products do you use’ or ‘what diet are you on?’” Robin exclaimed as she fumbled putting on her boots.

“Yes, but at this business dinner,” Steve air-quoted, “you should really ask her on a normal date. Take her to a museum or something.”

“It’s not that easy,” Robin retorted.

“It is. The worst she can say is no, and even then I don’t think she will.”

“Ugh, I’m leaving now. Call me if you need anything but wait til after dinner.” She said as she walked out the front door.

“Have fun! Don’t work too hard!” Steve shouted as she closed it making sure to quickly stick her tongue out at him before she did.

And that was that. He was on his own for the first time in years and he had no idea what to do with himself. All the events, all the work, were distractions from his lonely life. He didn’t mind leaving Hawkins, getting the hell out of dodge when the opportunity came. His parents signed him onto a few commercials as a kid and didn’t think anything of it until some random talent scout called the house when his parents happened to be home, for once. They agreed to whatever was discussed and practically shipped him away. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall the last time either of them called that didn’t involve asking him for money or a favor. At least he was finally 22, so getting a random case of red wine delivered was no issue, not that getting any type of alcohol or drugs was hard to do for a rich young celebrity in LA.

He settled in his living room the best he could, the Tuscan style house provided some form of coziness, but the tiled floor made sure that regardless of the warm orange terracotta an underlining coldness was never out of reach. Steve never really knew how to live in his house, he bought it for the ocean view and Robin loved the hot tub in the backyard. He had the money, so it was bought. The flatscreen hung above a luxurious fireplace that was never used, because why the fuck would he need a fireplace in California but it was still pretty. Thankfully the remote was on the wooden coffee table and he doom-scrolled through all of the streaming services, cringing anytime he caught a glimpse of a shitty B-movie he appeared in. Part of him missed babysitting more and more, the other part did enjoy having money that was his own, but money couldn’t buy genuine company. He refilled his glass for… shit how many was that? Three? No four. Wait, three. Three glasses of wine.

He gulped down much too large of a sip, ready to let the wine take him entirely when his phone buzzed. Steve fumbled to get it out of his pocket, forgetting entirely that he was still in jeans. A single Instagram notification appeared so he opened it, happy to see a recent message from Batking.

Batking: so I watched Paladin…

Steve.hrrgtn: and?!

Batking: woah, was not expecting a response that fast. Arent celebrities supposed to be busy on friday nights?

Steve.hrrgtn: u caught me on a rare occasion.

Steve.hrrgtn: so utilize it, you have my full attention. Whatd you think?

Batking: …

Batking: it was amazing

Steve.hrrgtn: thats it? Tell me more!

Batking: what do u want to know?

Steve.hrrgtn: everything! You clearly play d&d or at least know a lot about it. Was it accurate? Idk, what did you enjoy?

Steve was overcome with a giddiness he hadn’t felt since his first kiss. Sure it was for a tv show he was in for a few episodes but exciting nonetheless. He waited as Batking typed their response.

Batking: It was the most accurate movie portrayal of D&D ive ever seen. Im thoroughly impressed, and I’m a hard man to impress.

Steve.hrrgtn: is that so?

Batking: you’re damn right it is.

Batking: you really did crush it. To see the paladin go from being in his element on the battlefield to getting completely stripped of everything with nothing left but his values to keep him going… wow. It kept me on my toes, wondering if he’ll getting beaten down enough to break his oath. But NO! The conviction you display, the way you would get up after every failure, every obstacle, im mesmerized. You were mesmerizing

Steve became extremely aware of his cheeks after that message. He couldn’t tell if he was actually blushing or if all the wine raised his body temperature. Either way he was flattered. He watched as three bouncing dots danced next to Batking’s profile picture, a doodled vampire bat with an itty bitty crown inbetween its ears on a lined piece of paper. He clicked on the picture, leading him to Batking’s profile where he carefully read each element of the guy’s bio.

🦇Welcome to Hell 🔥 you have entered my domain… you have been warned

There were a few links below: Spotify, Youtube and one for DMGuild. Steve didn’t know what the last one was but he was planning on checking it out later anyways. As he scrolled down most of the dude’s pictures were of friends, guitars and other musical equipment, stray cats, random craft/construction projects, D&D battlemaps and poorly designed posters by local bars for open mic nights he would be playing at. Not much of the guy himself from what he could tell until he came across one of a slender guy in a white and black baseball tee with a red skull and yellow horns that ready Hellfire Club. The guy was sticking his entire tongue out and held up both hands in the rock and roll fist. It was from several years ago and the caption read: Welcome to Hellfire! Each new member gets to make their own original t-shirt. Meet me in the art room after school this friday @3:30pm.

Steve smiled, but sadness crept in. He wondered if Dustin ever got to meet this guy, they’d get along so well he could feel it. Steve was about to scroll through his contacts to see if he could find Mrs.Henderson’s number but a banner notification from Batking distracted him.

Batking: i dont think i blinked the entire time. Maybe i just forgot to? I cant tell. Im higher than i expected tbh

Steve.hrrgtn: can i trade u? I have wine

Batking: red or white?

Steve.hrrgtn: red

Batking: pass. It all tastes the same to me

Steve.hrrgtn: does it matter? Itll get u drunk either way

Batking: if you want weed so bad why don’t you get some? Dont u live in California? Am i to sit here and read your messages as you squander your well deserved paladin money on wine instead of weed. Tsk tsk tsk

Steve laughed, a true LOL. What he wouldn’t give to just meet this person. No one made him laugh besides Robin.

Steve.hrrgtn: how are you this funny?

Batking: what can i say? I’m but a humble court jester put on this earth do one thing only.

Steve.hrrgtn: what would that be, sir jester?

Batking: to entertain royalty. Royalty such as yourself.

Steve.hrrgtn: i thought that was my job? What is acting if not being paid to entertain

Batking: fair point

Batking: wait if im not a jester what does that make me?

Batking: dont tell me that the Steve Harrington is about to trigger an identity crisis. At least send me cali kush first 😭😭

Steve.hrrgtn: sorry, best i can do is 11 bottles of Cabernet sauvignon

Batking: great. now you have a sense of humor!? You need to come with a warning: rich, attractive, decent personality AND funny.

Steve being too infatuated and tipsy to stop himself replied:

Steve.hrrgtn: 😊

Steve.hrrgtn: wait! Decent?

Batking: I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Forgive me for being just a tad skeptical. This thing we got going is still a little unfathomable.

Ok fair. Steve nodded to himself, Batking had a point. He was getting a little carried away with just how comfortable he was acting toward this guy who he still didn’t know the real name of. Speaking of which…

Steve.hrrgtn: what’s your name

Batking: not so subtle change of topic

Steve.hrrgtn: sorry

Batking: it’s ok. Wine?

Steve.hrrgtn: your name is wine?

Batking: hahahahhaha no

Batking: …why do u want to know

Steve.hrrgtn: u know mine

Batking: true. Ok I’ll tell you, but under one condition

Steve.hrrgtn: ok????

Batking: if u remember a Dustin Henderson at all, it would mean the world to him if you gave him a call. Even just messaged him. He sings praises of u. I couldn’t believe him, not until this. And look i have no filter rn and im probably being way more vulnerable with u than im comfortable but i’ll tell you my name if you promise me you’ll try to reconnect with him. Just please for my sake, don’t let him know i didn’t watch paladin until you told me to.

Curse the wine, he shouldn’t have finished a bottle by himself without dinner before this. Tears of joy streamed down his face, a burst of feeling that filled his empty husk. Feeling what? Everything? Anything? Maybe it was knowing his silly babysitting gig is actually the most important job he’s ever had, that it’s the job that has fundamentally made him, him. Maybe it’s knowing from this near complete strangers that yea he does know Dustin, that the kid was left in good hands. Maybe that Dustin remembers him and still thinks about him, that the door there is open. Maybe it’s the kindness and courage of Batking to be vulnerable with him not born of manipulation but out of authentic compassion.

Steve.hrrgtn: i promise

Batking: pinky swear

Steve.hrrgtn: what?

Batking: u heard me! Pinky swear!

Steve.hrrgtn: geez! Ok! I pinky swear

Batking: good. Im holding u to it.

Steve.hrrgtn: thank you

Batking: for?

Steve.hrrgtn: idk. For treating me like a person

Batking: you are one, aren’t you?

Good wasn’t that the truth. He is one, but Robin seemed to be the only person that acted that way towards him. That is until… wait this fucker still hasn’t told me his name.

Steve.hrrgtn: i am a person. One that still wants to know your name.

Batking: damn, was hoping i could distract u

Steve.hrrgtn: 🤨🫴name pls

Batking: its Eddie

~~~

This one’s for you queen @beckkthewreck

Would yall want an extended fic on ao3 ? Im considering if i want to keep posting parts here or if i should do both. Would that be good for yall?

i found a baby picture of my cat please please look at him i'm begging you

I will never be able to think otherwise!

every time totk mentions “sky islands,” i can only think of skypiea

Hopper is trying to enjoy his anniversary dinner with his wife at Enzo’s, in spite the fact that Diane is pissed at him and he doesn’t want to be there, when he suddenly hears, “Mr Hopper.”

Hopper does not roll his eyes when he looks away from his wife’s empty chair to six year old Steve Harrington next to him, “Yes?”

The kid is in a suit. Should Hopper have worn a suit?

“I’m okay, Mr Hopper.”

Well, that got Hopper’s attention. His eyes flicker from the kid to the table with his clearly whisper-arguing parents. Steve certainly looked okay so, “Good?”

“I’m gonna ask Mama if I can get ice cream,” Steve tells him. “If she says no, I’m going to cry real loud ‘til she gives up. I’m not really sad, Mr. Hopper. I’m just really good at crying. Please don’t arrest my dad. He didn’t hurt me.”

Hopper gives him a bewildered look so Steve compromises, “Okay, you can arrest my dad but after I get ice cream.”

Hopper barely manages not to smile at this ridiculous kid when he says, “Are you telling me about a premeditated tantrum?”

Steve thinks about it, “Yes.”

Feeling some Steddie angst hours in this house 🚨🚨🚨

After they kill Vecna, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as they can be. Whatever brief moment of insanity Steve and Nance had ends about as suddenly as it began, and she can’t really meet his eyes once her hand is back in Jonathan’s.

(It’s a blessing when she leaves for Columbia, Jonathan’s beat-up car following right behind her.)

The least normal thing is probably Eddie Munson, or at least whatever Steve’s relationship is with him now. It’s - there’s just something different there, some strange warmth that he feels when he looks at Eddie. And sometimes Steve catches Eddie just looking at him and - well, it gives him that same warm feeling, and maybe that means something? Something that maybe seemed scary before but is nowhere near as scary as Eddie almost bleeding out in Steve’s arms.

He’s in the midst of talking himself up, of figuring out just what he’s going to say to Eddie, when the Munsons announce they’re heading out of town and then leave the next day. Steve’s almost paralyzed with anxiety, but he’s gotta say something, right?

Except Eddie cuts him off at the knees with a weak smile, tells him not to be a stranger, to visit him in the city with his kids and a Winnebago once he’s finally gotten that suburban dream, and then he’s gone.

And Steve doesn’t hear from him again.

To be fair, no one really hears from Eddie; just Dustin, who will chime in that they’ve chatted every once in a while, that Eddie went to LA for a bit and then Seattle and finally settled in Chicago; that he seems to be really happy, but never gives any information beyond that.

And Steve? He packs up his life and follows Robin to college, and when he accompanies her to their first gay bar and sees two metal heads kissing, something inside him snaps and the pair of them end up drunkenly crying in their tiny apartment’s bathroom. But it gets better after that, and two years after their move to Indy, Steve meets Sam.

Sam, who’s got the lightest blonde hair he’s ever seen, cut into a shaggy mullet that perfectly offsets his shiny hazel eyes. He’s got a bright smile and a pierced eyebrow and too many earrings to count and his laugh is loud and joyous and for whatever reason, he likes Steve as much as Steve likes him.

Robin, of course, is ecstatic and takes all the credit for introducing them, which is technically true seeing as she was the one to spill her drink all over Sam before Steve came to the rescue. (Although she then almost ruined everything by throwing up on both of their shoes, so, Steve only lets her gloat so much.)

Three years after that finds Steve and Robin gainfully employer, as teachers of all things, and Vickie finally succeeds in convincing Robin to move in with her, and, well, it only makes sense that Steve and Sam get their own place too because, well, Steve loves him. Loves his ripped jeans and his skateboard and the fact that he’s cheery no matter the time of day, that he wants to have a family probably even more than Steve does and didn’t blink when Steve said he wanted six kids, he only laughed and said “why stop there?” And it may not be exactly what Steve was thinking in that Winnebago all those years ago, but that’s okay, because what he has with Sam? Is way better.

Once Steve and Sam get settled, Sam insists that they have a housewarming party (because Sam makes good money at his tattooing gig, and Steve’s inheritance is nothing to sneeze at, and they’re actually able to get a house, which feels insane but also just right) and invite all of Steve’s kids, who he’s met a few times but never all at once, and Steve is so whipped he says “yes” without a second thought.

(Which he really should have had because Henderson was also living in Chicago now.)

So when Henderson wanders in with Eddie as his plus one, and Sam is nowhere in sight, Steve only gives himself a moment to freak out before walking over to greet Eddie.

“Steeevveeeee Harrington,” Eddie purrs with a toothy grin. “Good to see you man. And good to see you finally getting started on that dream of yours,” he says, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “With Sam, I hear. You two crazy kids getting started on those six kids yet?”

“Uh, not - “

“Not quite yet,” Sam cuts in from behind Steve, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and tucking Steve’s head under his chin. “I still want a few more years of this guy all to myself. You must be Eddie,” Sam grins, sticking out his hand. “Good to meet you man. I’ve heard all about you.”

Eddie just stares at Sam. Stares and stares until Dustin kicks him in the shin. “Right. Sam. Sam. Good to meet you, man,” Eddie says, but he looks pale and vaguely sick and if Steve didn’t know from the few times Dustin had slipped up in the past, he’d think Eddie was homophobic (and he knew that wasn’t the case.)

Sam grins. “Well, good to have you here. Steve, babe, Robin wants you in the kitchen, something about the salsa - “

“Oh my God,” Steve groans, and then all thoughts of Eddie are forgotten in his rush to make sure Robin doesn’t actually poison everyone, and then he gets busy greeting people and saying hi and it’s not until well after midnight, when the remaining guests are smoking up with Argyle and Steve is taking out the trash that he remembers Eddie. Or, more accurately, that he bumps into him.

“So. Sam,” Eddie says, smoking a cigarette by the garage, gazing off into the distance. “He’s a good dude. Got shit taste in music, though.”

Steve slams the trash can lid shut a little harder than he needs to. “Dude,” he sighs, and Eddie must hear his exhaustion because he doesn’t say anything else for a while.

“Did you know?”

“About what?”

“About you? Back in ‘86?”

Steve just nods tiredly. “Yeah, man. I did.”

Eddie hums nervously. “And was there someone - “

“Eddie, man, you know there was. You know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie’s laugh sounds broken. “Yeah, I did. Fuck. Fuck.”

And Steve doesn’t know what to say, because what is there to say? He loved Eddie; hell, part of him still loves Eddie. But Eddie ran at the first inkling of there being something between them, and Sam didn’t. He’s never run, not even when Steve gave him so many reasons to. And Steve could tell Eddie that he’s wondered, so many times he’s wondered, what they could have been. If they could be anything.

But Eddie wasn’t there to hold out his hand, and Sam was. Sam is, and that makes all the difference.

Steve claps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, just like Eddie did when he arrived, and then he heads into his house.

(This time, he’s the one to leave Eddie behind.)