Darling [Steve x Eddie]

Chapter 23

[song: time passing by the irrepressibles. i really recommend playing this song for this chapter.]

Eddie jolted awake at four in the morning, flat out beside Steve on a new bed.

"The fuck?" he muttered, eyes staring at the ceiling.

Last night was hazy, but different from his usual blur of making bad decisions alone.

Instead of a full blackout in his mind, Steve was showing up, but as more than a cloudy picture.

Physical.

He nervously flicked his eyes over to look at the boy, who's face was half-buried in his hair.

The neck of his shirt was tugged down and it took a moment for Eddie to realize that he'd done that, sometime in his sleep. His hand was hooked over the rim, rings pressed against Steve.

There was a stupidly gorgeous expanse of skin revealed.

Steve's collarbones jutted out from beneath the fabric and led Eddie's eyes to his neck, the bridge of his nose, and jawline.

Mouth.

He looked away.

There was something about seeing Steve like this that made him feel afraid, like he'd gone too far even though they had never even begun in the first place.

The calm set of Steve's features, the dimly lit room, the rumpled bedsheets.

In another life, Eddie imagined what else this could look like.

He imagined waking up with Steve everyday, hopelessly tangled.

Old coffee. Constant music. Freckles.

He imagined a house that he wouldn't have to hide in, because everything would be open.

He felt raw.

Worn.

Light streaming.

Sunlit.

Then he remembered the dark.

Outside, tree branches squeaked against the window.

Eddie closed his eyes and felt a familiar hollow thump in his chest, raking through his whole body.

He was going to be alone, building castles in Wayne's trailer, except Wayne wasn't going to live forever.

And neither was he.

His one consolation.

Maybe he would stick around long enough to watch Steve get married in a little white church, to see kids flock out of a farmhouse outside of Hawkins.

Or maybe it would hurt too much.

He started to give into the ache, began to let it pull him under.

"Watching me in my sleep is a new level of creepy, Munson."

Steve's voice startled him back.

It was tantalizingly soft, but still gravelly with bad sleep.

"Shit," Eddie exhaled.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone."

He turned sharply towards Steve.

"What is there to tell, Harrington?" It came out sharp.

Steve blinked at his tone.

"Don't be mean, Eddie," he said quietly.

"I'm afraid," Eddie whispered.

They watched each other.

"I'm afraid of what touching you makes me think."

He licked his lower lip.

"What I really want to know," slowly then, "is what type of game are we playing?"

"Game?" Steve questioned, eyes squinting.

"Yes, game. Because it isn't anything more than that now."

Something flashed across Steve's face.

"Oh."
"Was it ever anything more?"

Eddie turned away from him.

There was nothing else to do, he couldn't face the look in the boy's eyes.

They lay in silence, with Steve's hands fidgeting the covers between them and Eddie pulling at his rings.

It was a deathly silence.

"I know I'm being cold." Eddie spoke at last.

"Maybe."

"I am."

"You are what?"

"Cold... so cold."

He let himself drift off, thinking of his mother.

Steve tipped his head onto his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He murmured.

"I don't know anymore."

Steve looked up at him through his hair.

"Sometimes, I really want to know what you think about," he whispered.

There was a soft strain in his voice.

"I'm not sure if I could even tell you," Eddie said quietly, absently flicking against Steve's ribs.

"Try."

Steve shifted to look away from him as he spoke.

"I won't watch you speak."

Eddie closed his eyes again, in the absence of judgment, and felt tears pressure against his lashes.

"You're too good," he mumbled.

He felt Steve's shrug against his body.

Golden.

"Is the door shut?" he asked instead of saying what he really wanted to say.

"Yes," Steve said and then he tucked his body closer to his.

"Okay... I can tell you some of my mind, if you want."

"Yes, darling."