Chapter Text
Steve knew he had a bit of a reputation, but until today, he could honestly say he’d never made out in the high school drama department’s prop room.
He supposed there was a first time for everything.
He had Eddie backed up against the wall in a narrow space between a fake throne and a rack of bulky costumes that smelled faintly of sweat and old stage makeup. A cone-shaped princess hat kept jabbing Steve in the side every time he shifted, which might have bothered Steve if he wasn’t too busy kissing Eddie senseless to give a shit about literally anything else.
He pressed open-mouthed kisses up the side of Eddie’s neck.
Eddie shuddered.
Steve’s hands tightened at Eddie’s waist, thumbs sliding over his belt loops and the tense line of his abdomen. Eddie made a small, wrecked sound in the back of his throat, and a spike of arousal hit Steve so fast he had to pull back.
“Shit,” he muttered, a little breathless. “We should stop.”
They were in the prop room, he forcefully reminded himself.
Eddie looked dazed. His lips were red and kiss-swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his hair wild. He grabbed Steve by the front of the shirt and dragged him right back in.
Steve gave in without protest. He was pretty sure he was addicted to Eddie Munson. As he licked into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie’s hips rolled forward, just enough that Steve felt the teasing press of hardness through their jeans. It sent a hot jolt through him. This time, it was Eddie who pulled back.
Steve didn’t chase him. Instead, he slowed things down, cupping Eddie’s face in both hands and pressing a softer kiss to the corner of his mouth.
They’d been doing this since December. Ever since the night Steve had finally worked up the nerve to do something about his crush, driven out to Eddie’s trailer, and laid himself bare on Eddie’s doorstep.
Since then, there’d been – a lot of this.
Stolen kisses. Hooking up in parked cars and empty rooms and anywhere else they were reasonably sure they wouldn’t get caught. It was a lot of hands under shirts, mouths on necks, and Steve learning, bit by bit, the kinds of sounds Eddie made when Steve pressed lips to his skin.
It was enough to make Steve feel like he was on fire. On the cusp of being too much – and yet, also not enough.
The thing was: Eddie was reluctant to give them a label. Even in private.
Steve would’ve preferred they did. Maybe the word boyfriend was too much for Eddie. Maybe it scared him. Steve didn’t know for sure, and he didn’t want to push Eddie. But there was a selfish, possessive part of him that wanted the label. Wanted to know, with it clearly spelled out, that Eddie was his and he was Eddie’s.
Steve was trying to be patient.
Physically, at least, he didn’t mind going slow. Steve knew he was Eddie’s first – well, first anything, really. Steve, though, had dated. He’d dated plenty, but he’d never been with anyone like Eddie. Had never wanted quite like this, attraction tangled up with such tender affection.
Eddie tended to pull back when things got too hot and heavy, like he wasn’t yet ready to dive all in. And Steve was willing to go at a snail’s pace if it meant keeping Eddie comfortable.
Steve kissed the corner of Eddie’s mouth again and forced himself to pull back. “We should stop,” he said, more firmly this time. “Seriously. Before someone walks in on us.”
As if the universe were teasing them, footsteps pounded down the hall outside.
Both of them froze.
Steve held his breath, but the footsteps kept going.
When the footsteps had fully faded, Eddie let out a nervous laugh and finally loosened his grip on Steve. Steve stepped back slowly and a little reluctantly, scratching at the back of his head, as he willed his body to calm down.
“I’m supposed to meet up with Barb after she gets out of the debate club anyway,” Steve said. “She’ll give me shit if I’m late again.”
Eddie tucked his hands into his pockets. His shoulders curved inward a little, a familiar, protective hunch Steve had come to recognize whenever Eddie was beginning to feel anxious.
“You haven’t told her about…?” Eddie trailed off.
Steve shook his head. “No, man. Of course not. Not until…”
He let the sentence die. Not until you’re ready.
That was the other thing. Eddie was nervous about telling people. Steve obviously knew they couldn’t go advertising their relationship around Hawkins. That wouldn’t go over well. But their friends? Steve was pretty sure they would be fine with whatever he and Eddie had going on. He knew Barb would be. But he couldn’t exactly explain why he was so sure Barb would be okay without outing her in the process, and he sure as hell wasn't doing that.
So he didn’t push.
He didn’t push when the conversation veered toward labels, and he didn’t push when Eddie went tense at the idea of anyone else knowing about them. Because the thing about Eddie was that the version he presented to the world – loud and all teeth, rings and swagger – was only part of him. Underneath it was something much softer. Something terribly easy to wound.
The last thing Steve wanted was to hurt Eddie.
Before they slipped out of the prop room, Eddie cracked the door, checking the hallway. He waved Steve through.
It wasn’t until they hit the main hall that they ran into Billy Hargrove.
Billy was leaning against a locker with a vaguely distant look in his eyes. Like part of him was elsewhere.
Steve had started noticing it over the last month or so – Billy was off. It was little things. He was quieter than normal. Less likely to get in someone’s face for no reason. And every once in a while he got this strange, blank look, like he was listening to something no one else could hear.
Honestly, Steve didn’t especially care what was going on with Billy, so long as he left Steve and his friends the hell alone.
Unfortunately, that was asking for a bit too much. The second Steve and Eddie walked past, Billy’s gaze focused. A spark of meanness lit in his eyes, and he pushed off the locker, stalking toward them.
“I hear you’re officially a two-time super senior,” Billy said to Eddie. “Or is it three-time?” His grin was cruel. “Either way, congrats on making Hawkins High history. Must be a trailer trash record, huh?”
Steve could have killed him.
Eddie spoke first, though. His voice came out cold and edged in fake sincerity. “Thanks, Hargrove. Means a lot coming from fellow trailer trash such as yourself.”
Billy’s smile faltered.
Eddie kept going. “I know you’re not exactly living in a trailer,” he said, “but I know the look.” When he chuckled, it was nasty and low. “And boy, do you have the look. Probably helps that daddy smacks you around.”
Billy’s face changed in an instant. Fury flooded it, sudden and absolute – and then he lunged.
His fist grazed Eddie’s jaw. It wasn't a full hit, but was enough to snap Eddie’s head sideways and send him staggering.
Steve shoved himself between them and slammed Billy back hard. Billy hit the lockers with a loud, metallic bang. Steve grabbed a fistful of Billy’s shirt, knuckles jammed up under his jaw, and–
The vision struck him like a tidal wave.
A mall in chaos. Bright colors; shattered glass and smoke. El, bleeding from her leg, screaming. Billy – pale and wrong. A car engine revving. Something huge looming in the dark. It had too many limbs, all of them curved like a spider’s. It was made of warped, pulsing flesh.
Steve came back to himself with a violent inhale.
Billy was shoving at him, but it was lacking his usual strength. Steve slammed him back against the lockers again, harder this time, and Billy’s head knocked against metal.
Steve stared at him.
Billy still looked furious. But there was something wrong with his eyes. They had a sheen – like he was coming down with something. The vision still pulsed hot and jagged behind Steve’s own eyes, and he felt a prickle of fear. Something was wrong with Billy. Really wrong. He felt it in his gut.
He dug his knuckles in and shoved Billy once more for emphasis. “Stay the hell away from Eddie,” he said, cold and low.
Then he let go.
Billy swayed, sniffed hard, and gave a dark little chuckle. “You’re gonna regret that, Harrington.”
Steve held his gaze. “Don’t think I am.”
Then Eddie’s hand clamped around Steve’s arm.
“Come on,” Eddie said tightly. “You’re less than a week from graduation. Don’t let Hargrove get you suspended.”
Steve let himself be pulled away.
Billy watched them go. His gaze didn’t once stray from Steve.
Outside, the sunlight was bright and the day pleasantly warm. Steve blinked against the glare as he and Eddie rounded the side of the building. Once they were out of sight, he turned and caught Eddie gently by the jaw, tilting his face to get a better look.
The skin there was already reddening. It would probably bruise. Still, considering the power Billy’s punches could pack, it could have been much worse.
“I’m fine,” Eddie muttered.
He didn’t sound fine.
Though Steve thought it probably had more to do with what Billy had said than the punch itself.
“Hey.” Steve let his thumb brush once over Eddie’s cheek before he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry you have to do senior year again.”
Eddie leaned back against the brick wall and shrugged. “It’s my own damn fault.”
Steve wasn’t sure that was entirely true. It couldn’t have helped that Hawkins had been hit by two separate supernatural disasters in two years, both landing right around fall finals. Not when Eddie already had a hard time with school.
But Steve knew better than to say that out loud. Eddie wouldn’t want to hear it. Not now. Because it didn’t change anything. Regardless of the reason, Eddie Munson would be returning to Hawkins High in the fall.
Instead he said, “You’ll graduate with our friends. That’ll be pretty cool.”
That got the faintest smile.
Steve added, “And the kids are fucking thrilled to join Hellfire next year. It’s actually annoying how much they won’t shut up about it. Think about it. You get a whole year to DM the runts.”
Eddie’s reluctant smile was growing.
“I am coming up with a pretty sick campaign,” he admitted.
A gust of wind whipped around the corner. Eddie’s bangs fluttered across his forehead. His bare arms, exposed below his short sleeves and denim vest, prickled under the chill. His leather jacket had never recovered from the beating it had taken at the junkyard, when a demodog nearly took a chunk out of Eddie’s shoulder.
Steve rubbed his hands up and down Eddie’s arms without thinking.
“My hero,” Eddie murmured.
And Steve thought maybe Eddie was talking about Billy, too, about Steve’s dramatic protective display. He was trying not to feel too pleased with himself about that when an engine revved from the parking lot.
His hands fell away.
He stepped around the corner of the building just in time to see Billy’s blue Camaro peel out of the lot and onto the road.
Eddie came up beside him, watching too.
“He’s always been an asshole,” Eddie said. “But there’s been something weird about him lately.”
The vision flickered again behind Steve’s eyes. The mall. El bleeding. That huge, fleshy thing.
He sighed. There wasn’t any point keeping it to himself. “When I pushed him,” Steve said, “I had a vision.”
Eddie looked at him sharply.
Steve kept his eyes on the road where Billy had disappeared.
“I think,” he said, “we’re maybe going to have a problem.”