Chapter Text
“Leave me alone, freak,” Steve grits, his back pressed against a tree. It’s dark out, but he can still catch the metalhead’s stupid long hair as his obnoxious combat boots crunch the leaves. “I don’t want whatever you’re selling.”
Surprised, Eddie Munson throws his hands up as if to prove he doesn’t have any product. “Couch the hostility, man, I’m all out,” he says. He makes no move to go away. “Just wanted to smoke a cig before I bounced.”
“Great,” Steve spits. He runs a hand through his hair, wishing Munson would just get the picture and leave . “Can’t smoke on the road?”
The party thumps in the distance behind Eddie, a house of drunken teenagers completely unaware of the two outside. Eddie glances back, maybe checking to see if anyone else is around, then steps closer. He asks, “Dude, are you alright?”
Steve is not alright. It’s probably around 50 degrees, but his skin is on fire. This—whatever it is—hit unexpectedly. Yeah, the world metaphorically spun on its axis after Nancy called him bullshit ten minutes ago, but then it actually started spinning. His clothes were suddenly so fucking irritating, sweat started pooling in every inconvenient place, and it was impossible to breathe with all the pheromones in the house. He ran out here in a feeble attempt to center himself, but his stomach is still in fucking knots. He might be drunk and sad, but he shouldn’t be this drunk and sad.
Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson does not need to know all that. As a wave of pain washes over him, Steve tries his best not to slide to the ground, but his back does dip a couple of rough inches against the tree. He says, “I’m fine. Could you just– could you go? Like, away? I hear the front yard’s nice this time of year.”
“Nah, you look sick, man,” Munson unhelpfully observes. He steps closer again, eyeing Steve intently like he’s approaching a wounded animal. Maybe he is. His keychain jingles with each step. “New kid challenge you on the keg? Need someone to hold your hair back?”
“No, I’m fine, man. I’m telling you I’m fucking fine .”
Eddie wanders closer. “You don’t look it, dude—you’re, like, shaking. It’s not a big deal, we all hurl sometimes, even royalty—”
“I don’t need to puke!” Now that Eddie’s closer, Steve gets a lungful of his scent, and before he can give a scorching review or beg Munson to cut the good samaritan act, the wave of pain in his abdomen melts into something good, something fluttering, something unthinkable like— like—
Like fucking want .
Eddie covers his nose and steps back. “Oh, whoa, man. You– you got to get out of here. Like now.”
Turning to check if anyone’s looking out a window or coming out the back door, Eddie is distracted when Steve stumbles toward him. “Come here,” Steve mumbles, falling into that beautiful, beautiful scent. “What is— why do you smell so—”
“Whoa!” Eddie says, catching Steve in open arms. His grip is firm on Steve’s waist, which is incredibly distracting, but he’s gently shaking Steve. Steve’s brain dips back into the conversation to hear Eddie say, “Okay! O-kay, Harrington, man. You’re presenting, alright? Nod your head for me if you understand.”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m a beta,” he slurs. His body buzzes with pleasure with each breath of Eddie’s scent. He wonders if it’s more potent by Eddie’s neck. He tests this theory.
It is.
“Whoa, okay! Okay, buddy, man, dude, oh my god, please stay with me.” Eddie jerks as Steve gently noses down his throat, but he doesn’t pull away. A hand caresses the back of Steve’s head carefully. He says, “You’re one hundred percent presenting right now. You’re not a beta. Not a beta. Are you getting me?”
“Not possible,” Steve uses his half-conscious mind to say. People present when they’re, like, twelve. Not when they’re seventeen. Not when Steve’s already disappointed his dad about not being an alpha. He’s jumped through the hurdles and emerged from the other side stronger because of it. It’s too fucking late for that shit. He mumbles, “Can’t be an alpha now.”
Eddie huffs a laugh, guiding Steve farther from the party, shielding him behind the tree. Steve likes the electricity that zings down his body when Eddie brackets him against the bark. Breathing carefully, voice slightly strained, Eddie says, “No, honey, you’re not an alpha. This is heat.”
“Heat?” The word feels strange on his tongue. Heat. Well, he does feel hot, but ruts make alphas warm, too. Eddie’s scent is helping—Eddie, who is an alpha. Eddie’s alpha scent is helping. Alphas don’t typically like other alpha scents. Steve’s brain does a couple of loops back and forth, hoping for a different answer that never comes. “Like– like heat-heat?”
Pressed against his neck, Steve feels Eddie nod and gulp. “Exactly like heat-heat.”
Oh. Oh, no. Steve’s in fucking heat like a fucking omega. “No,” he starts, meaning to pull away, but Eddie’s rubbing his shoulders, and, damn, that feels good. “I can’t be an omega, Munson… I… This can’t be happening, Eddie, please… I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay, you’re okay, Steve.” Then Eddie ruins the moment by pushing away enough to look Steve in the eye. Arms length feels like a fucking mile . He says, “Let’s just get you somewhere safe. Can I take you home?”
Mr. and Mrs. Harrington are winding down for bed right now and probably don’t give a shit where Steve is. And Steve doesn’t want to know how they’d react to him stumbling home the way he is now. He shakes his head. “Parents,” is all he can force out.
Eddie nods knowingly, then asks, “Who came with you to the party?” He pauses, dark eyes tracing Steve’s face. His scent is so far away. “...Wheeler?”
Nancy . Steve whines until he’s allowed to bury himself in Eddie’s neck again. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
“Okay, okay, what about a friend? Anyone I can grab?”
Steve pushes the thought of Nancy and bullshit to the back of his head and tries to conjure options. The party behind them is a distant, distant memory. Tommy’s back there, probably. They’re on the outs, but there’s history there. He might be able to help. Then again, he’s with Carol and that asshole new kid… Not to mention that Tommy probably couldn’t keep this a secret even if he tried. Steve is sure he doesn’t want them to know. He shakes his head.
“Shit,” Eddie says, jittery under Steve’s hands. “There’s gotta be someone I can call, someone you trust. Who do you want, Steve?”
Knowing now that this is heat, that this is some horrific biological fog, Steve can tell his grip on reality is loose. He knows that, mentally. But knowing that doesn’t stop his voice– or, sickeningly, his omega– from begging, gently, “Alpha, please, just you. Don’t want anyone else.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie says, clearly taken aback. Silent for a few beats, controlling his breathing and letting Steve nuzzle against him, Eddie seems to weigh some options. Then he gathers Steve in his arms until they look each other in the eye again and he says, “Okay, it’s just a night, okay? I’m going to take care of you.”
Happiness escapes as a trill. Steve hears it before he realizes he’s the one who did it.
Eddie makes a sound of disbelief, stunned still for a beat before mumbling, “Ho-ly shit, okay, okay, c’mon, Stevie, let’s go.”
“It’s just Steve,” he mumbles.
“Not the time, Harrington.”
Letting himself be half-guided-half-carried and weaved through the trees, Steve stays plastered against Eddie. Eddie’s scent is the only thing keeping him from flesh-searing pain, so Steve doesn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed about it. They give a wide berth around the house, cutting through the neighbor’s backyard to circle back to the street, where Eddie’s van is parked.
There’s a small voice in his head that complains about leaving his bimmer alone overnight, vulnerable, but then there’s a much bigger, stronger voice that says, Climb Munson like a goddamn jungle gym and forget the fucking BMW.
A twin-sized mattress sits in the back of Munson’s van. Eddie tries and fails to deposit Steve on it.
“C’mon, Harrington, work with me,” Eddie begs, glancing furtively over his shoulder for any wayward peers. “Lay down and I can drive us somewhere safe.”
“No, don’t leave me here,” Steve whines, trying to pull Eddie down with him. “Don’t go, stay with me.”
Eddie hisses, like a tea kettle reaching maximum steam capacity, and mumbles, “Fuck it,” before letting himself fall in after Steve. He wrestles away for a few painful seconds to wrench the van door shut behind them, lock it, and arrange the curtains just so.
It’s dark in the van, and quiet, too, save for their breathing and Steve’s heart in his ears. Eddie’s hair is black in the moonlight. “Eddie, please,” Steve’s omega bursts forward to beg. He pulls Eddie down once he’s done with the door until they sit close together on the edge of the mattress.
Steve’s almost in his lap, wrapped around the alpha firmly, while Eddie sits awkwardly. His hands hover over Steve, unsure where to put them. He gulps. “Steve, how can I help you? What do you…want from me?”
It’s hazy in Steve’s brain. Thoughts and reasoning slip through his fingertips like sand. All he knows is Eddie Munson makes him feel good . “Want you,” Steve says, rubbing his face against Eddie’s shoulder. He’s never had potent pheromones or a strong sense of smell, but something carnal in him wants to rub all over Eddie until they share the same scent.
“Want me how?” Eddie breathlessly asks, finally putting one hand on the back of Steve’s head. He tilts Steve until they look each other in the eye. “Harrington, I need you to be specific.”
Steve knows what his omega wants. His eyes drift down to Eddie’s mouth, his bitten-red lips.
“Steve, please. How do you want me?”
He looks up. It’s dark, but Steve still catches a glimmer of light in Eddie’s eyes. They’re wide. Unsure. It’s sobering. Concentrating as best as he can, Steve herds his rational thoughts until they all sit in the same corner of his brain. Even if he wants to, oh god, beg for Eddie’s knot, this is… It’s too much. He’d be taking advantage of Eddie like this. Eddie didn’t expect an omega in heat when he went out for a cigarette, he’s just nice enough to help. Steve holds that thought long enough to say, “Want… you to hold me. Please. Just hold me until it’s over.”
Considering Steve’s words, Eddie scents a little like disappointment. The fact that Steve can intuitively interpret his emotions through his scent is startling. For a moment he’s brought to sharp focus: he could never do that before. He is presenting. This is real. He could taste the emotion on his tongue.
But then the pause is long. Maybe Eddie expects Steve to come to his senses; maybe he’s disappointed Steve can’t restrain himself.
Gathering all his strength to do so, Steve pulls away to lie back on the mattress, excruciatingly far from Munson. Bent over as the pain rolls back through his abdomen, he whispers like the weak man he is, “But only if you want to.”
“Want to,” Eddie says, blinking out of whatever thought kept him quiet. His pupils are blown wide as he follows Steve down onto the mattress. “Of course I want to. I’ve got you, honey. Let me hold you.”
Success. Joy. Flashes of happiness poke through Steve’s scent. As quickly as it returned, the pain scatters again as Eddie curls around Steve. He guides Steve’s face back to his neck, back to where his scent grows thick with want . Steve can almost taste it, the feeling is so strong. Unfamiliar butterflies dance in his stomach.
Nose buried in Steve’s hair, Eddie mumbles, “Thank you for trusting me, Stevie.”
“Thank you,” Steve sighs, relishing the feeling of Eddie’s arms coiled around him. “But it’s just Steve.”
Munson nips the side of Steve’s neck with no heat.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Steve knows that his insides are probably breaking apart and reshaping themselves. He’s itchy with a foreign lust, wet between the legs, but the weight of Eddie against him as he siphons that musky scent directly from the source… it’s enough.
When Steve disappears into the fever of heat, he’s only vaguely conscious of the things his omega says to Eddie while he’s gone. Perfect alpha, he praises. He brushes his hands through Eddie’s long, slightly tangled hair and says Handsome, sweet, good, good alpha .
When the morning sun peeks through the curtains and the tide of heat rolls back to strike another day, Steve finds himself tightly sandwiched between Eddie, the mattress, and the side of the van. Sweaty and sore.
Eddie’s half on top of Steve, a leg buried between his legs and arms clasped around his sides. Feeling Steve move, or maybe sensing the shift in his breathing, Eddie squeezes Steve tighter and mumbles, “Another wave, Stevie?”
“I’m–” Steve’s voice cracks. He slants his head back, just enough so his lips don’t graze Eddie’s neck when he speaks. “It’s just Steve.”
A moment passes.
Steve continues, “I, uh, I think it’s passed.”
Another beat of silence. Stiffening, Eddie reluctantly leans away. He’s got a bad case of bedhead and his eyes are wide yet tired—like he’s been on guard all night—while he studies Steve’s face. “Oh. How… do you feel?”
Steve isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel as an omega who finished their first heat. It’s been years since he’s taken health– and, to be frank, he wasn’t paying attention. But he does know that he’s going to be late for school, his car has been alone all night, and his relationship with Nancy Wheeler is probably over, despite everything they’ve been through. “...Feeling superb, Munson. Like I crap rainbows and roses.”
Smiling, Eddie absentmindedly massages Steve’s hip. Electricity radiates, zips across Steve’s body from the motion as Eddie asks, “So… just back to normal?”
“Funny.” Steve’s abdomen isn’t happy with it, but he starts to untangle himself. “I should probably—”
“Oh! Yeah, right,” Eddie says, finally getting with the program. He scrambles back, giving Steve space to sit up and assess the situation. By the situation, he means his pants.
“Shit,” Steve says, looking down to examine spots of blood and other viscous fluid drying on his khakis. To his horror, he thinks Eddie might have matching stains, but it’s hard to tell on his black jeans.
Eddie starts rummaging through the mess that is his van. “I have an extra something if you need it to cover up, like, for your modesty.”
“It’s okay,” Steve winces as he crawls to sit at the edge of the mattress. Eddie doesn’t stop his search. Steve pointedly says, “Could you check and see if anyone’s out there? I just need to make it to my car.”
“Take this,” Eddie says, thrusting a flannel into Steve’s hands. “Please. I could also, like, drive you to your car, too.”
Steve looks up at Eddie for a long moment before taking the shirt and tying it around his waist. Being taken care of hurts, it pinches Steve’s pride, but it also feels… good. It’s probably a new symptom of being an omega. “Thanks, but I should probably just walk myself. I’m… I’m sorry I forced you to take care of me all night. Even I know it’s a total douche move.”
Eddie flushes pink, patting down his hair in an attempt to tame it. Or maybe he just needs something to do with his hands. “No worries, dude. You didn’t know you were going to present.”
“But still,” Steve sheepishly insists. “Thank you. You were incredibly cool.”
“Getting called cool by the king,” Eddie whistles, a smile splitting his face. “High praise.”
“I mean it. I really appreciate how…” Steve isn’t sure there’s a perfect word to describe the way Eddie has helped him. “I guess, how normal you were. I appreciate it.”
“Well, I kind of get what you’re going through. I presented really young—fourth grade.”
“Whoa,” Steve says. “I didn’t know that was possible. I don’t remember anything like that happening.
“It was before I moved to Hawkins.”
“...How did it happen?”
Eddie’s smile fades and a faraway look grows in his eyes, as he explains, “It happened in the middle of morning announcements. Picture it. One moment they’re telling us the lunch menu and listing kids celebrating birthdays, and the next, I’m in the corner of the class, in and out of consciousness, growling at anyone who would so much as look at me.”
“Holy shit,” Steve says, unsure how else to respond. “That must’ve sucked. How did people… react?”
Eddie hucks a laugh. “They didn’t take it well. I became the ‘Freak’ that day. Everyone at school walked on eggshells around me—even teachers. Sometimes kids would push me around because they thought I faked it. Or they’d push me around because I was different. You know how kids are.” The last sentence was heavier than the rest.
“Kids suck.” Steve wonders if he would’ve been better than those kids in grade school—if he is better than those kids now—and says, “I guess all we can do is hope they grow out of it. I’m sorry you went through that.”
“Eh, it’s alright.” Eddie watches Steve for a moment, playing with his hair. “If I’m being honest, I’ve always thought you were, like, solid adamantine or something. The illusion has been shattered.”
Steve smiles. “Not sure what adamantine is, but I’ll assume it’s good.”
“It’s the strongest material in D&D,” Eddie explains, smiling. “The best armor you could possibly find. So, yes, very good.”
“High praise,” Steve parrots back to Eddie. He pauses. “...Do you think you could… keep this a secret?”
Eddie blinks owlishly, smile fading. “...Like, me helping you? Oh—right. I mean, the king shouldn’t be caught dead with the… freak, I get it. I wouldn’t want people knowing I spent my first heat with me either.”
“No, I mean,” Steve clears his throat. He scratches the back of his neck. “Like, all of it. The whole omega thing?”
“What?” Eddie asks, tilting his head.
“I’d like to keep this,” he gestures toward where new anatomy is sitting between his legs. “...on a need-to-know basis.”
“No, I get you, but… People are going to know, dude,” Eddie says. “Scent patches aren’t that effective, and your heat is gonna come again. People are going to notice when the king has to skip school once a month.”
Ruffled, Steve chooses his words carefully. “...When you get the right scent patches, they work. And you ever heard of suppressants?” Steve gets up and limps toward the back window. He peeks outside through the curtain. “Look, I can’t thank you enough for your help. You stuck with me all night, Munson, but what I need is to get through senior year. Steve the omega only means trouble.” Steve pauses. “I think you can understand that.”
Eddie’s silent for a long moment. Steve has half a mind to turn around and shake the guy until he agrees, but Eddie eventually relents. “...As you wish, milord.”
The coast is clear outside, and once he has Munson’s word, Steve turns around with a stiff smile. The alpha is sitting awkwardly at the edge of the mattress, hands stuffed in his pockets. Steve says, “Thanks, Eddie. I mean it.” The hugeness of this favor smacks Steve in the back of the head, so he gulps and adds, “If you need anything…like, anything at all…”
Eddie shakes his head. “Dude, no way. You don’t owe me for this.” After Steve starts to push open the door, Eddie rushes to add, “If there’s anything I can do to, you know, help again… Since I’ll be the only person who… knows. You know. Just let me know.”
The idea of needing to depend on Eddie the Freak Munson is a stressful thought. He doesn’t look back at the alpha when he gives a polite nod. He pats his hair and clothes down and pushes the door open. Hopping out, Steve turns back to find Eddie watching after him. He says, “I’ll see you around, Munson.”
“See you around,” he says, one edge of his lips dipping up in an amused half grin. “Stevie.”
Steve doesn’t have the energy to correct him. Closing the van door as he leaves, Steve books it back to his BMW.
He resolves to pretend nothing happened. When he makes it home, he scrubs his skin with scentless soap until the blood, slick, and mortification tumble down the drainpipe. There’s a new, quiet part of him that mourns the loss of Eddie’s scent, but Steve pushes it down.
Then he’s liberal with his scent-blockers. He’s got the waterproof kind, for swim meets, and he slathers it all over his neck, wrists, and (despite the warning on the box) his groin.
It’s weird. He’s walking through the world totally different, rocked to his literal core, yet no one bothers giving him a second glance. He strolls into second-period Spanish with sunglasses on. No one reacts when he says Hola . If people assume he’s hungover, all the better.
Steve’s blockers are put to the test during gym, and they succeed with flying colors. Not only does the new kid have some sort of vendetta against him, pushing him around on the court like he has something to prove, but his breakup with Nancy congeals into fact.
A heartbroken, highly annoyed omega has a strong scent, but nothing slips past his collar.
When no one bats an eye, he knows he can do it. Steve can stay the same beta everyone knows and tolerates.
That afternoon, his secondary sex and relationship problems are put on the back burner when monsters attack, yet again. When the dust settles, he’s got a 12-year-old friend, an ex-girlfriend, a concussion, and an appointment to get strong suppressants.
Steve doesn’t necessarily avoid Eddie Munson for the rest of the school year, but he doesn’t go out of his way to see the guy. Eddie finds Steve alone at lunch, hiding under the bleachers less than a week after… everything… and he asks about the black eye. Nothing to do with my new parts, Steve assures him. Well, let me know if I can help, Eddie simply reprises. He lingers for a while, smoking a cigarette and glancing intermittently at Steve, but never saying another word.
After that, they bump paths at parties and in the hallways at school, but neither of them does more than give a knowing nod.
…
When spring break ‘86 rolls around, Eddie the Freak Munson plunges into their supernatural world. He forges an unbreakable bond with the party in the cold, unforgiving shadows of the Upside Down.
No one who encounters the Upside Down and makes it out alive can detangle themselves from the rest of the group. No one calls it a pack, they’re too modern for that, but that’s what they are. Family. No one else can understand what they’ve been through.
So, Eddie is Steve’s new friend. Yay.
Steve loves the idea of having a dude friend who is (1) his age and (2) doesn’t date his ex-girlfriend—it’s truly a beautiful prospect.
But sometimes—when the whole gang is together, watching a movie or hanging out at Family Video or eating dinner, what have you—sometimes he’ll catch Eddie’s dark, knowing eyes glinting at him from across the room.
It freaks Steve out.