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poplarste · 9 months

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No Vacancy

When Eddie Munson arrives at the Buckingham Beach Motel to spend the summer with his BFF Chrissy and her business partner Robin, the last person he expects to see waiting in the lobby is former king of Hawkins High and asshole extraordinaire, Steve fucking Harrington.

ao3

CW: Smut! light now, more in later chapters

Chapter 1: Checking In

Eddie grinned as he pulled his trusty van, the very same rust-bucket he’d been driving since high school that he liked to refer to as Van Halen, if only to elicit the groans of both friends and strangers, into the small parking lot beside the Buckingham beach motel. He hadn’t been on vacation for, well, okay, he’d never been on a true vacation before, and sure, he was going to be working a part time job while he was visiting his best friend in this seaside paradise, but it was still the closest thing to a holiday he’d ever had. Needless to say, he was hell bent on thoroughly enjoying himself. Sun, sand, and shirtless men in speedos? Sign him up!

He hopped out of the car, relieved to finally stretch his legs after the long drive, and threw open the back doors. He stared down at the collection of boxes, duffel bags, and one large black trunk, that made up the entirety of his worldly possessions, and sighed.

The day after he finally graduated from Hawkins High, back in 1986, Eddie had cut and run and never looked back. He’d been living as a sort of nomad ever since, never feeling comfortable enough to stay in one town or city for too long. He was usually able to find work as a bartender or bouncer to fund his stay at whatever hostel or efficiency he could find, and when all else failed he slept in his van. It wasn’t all bad, he’d seen a lot of cool places and met a lot of interesting people, but lately he’d been missing the stability of a home, of putting down roots. He craved the support and community that could be found with friendships that lasted longer than a few months. He still visited Hawkins on occasion, a necessary evil to be endured only so he could spend time with his beloved uncle, but that place would never be home for him again.

He grabbed the two largest bags that held the majority of his clothes, and the backpack that held the rest of his essentials and headed towards the lobby. He could come back out for the rest later.

The first thing Eddie noticed when he walked in the door was the spectacular pair of legs and delicious ass in too-short shorts that belonged to a man who was leaning over the counter talking to Robin. Unfortunately, the second thing he noticed was that same man’s oddly familiar swoop of chestnut brown hair. Eddie’s stomach dropped. What in the world was Steve fucking Harrington doing here?

“You made it!” Chrissy squealed as she came barreling out of the office door, having spotted him through the window.

Eddie knew what was coming, but he was a little slow on the uptake in his current shocked state, and only just managed to drop his bags in time to catch the former cheerleader as she launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her tight, letting go of all thoughts about former jocks and high school rivalries for a moment, and just enjoyed the fact that he was here with his best girl, finally seeing her in person after six long months apart. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the familiar scent of Ex'cla-ma'tion. He used to hate her perfume, but it’s amazing what you start to miss when you're separated from your loved ones for so long.

“Missed you.” Eddie whispered into her hair before finally letting her down.

She giggled as he swung her to the floor, and then proceeded to punch him in the arm as hard as she could, which was pretty fucking hard for such a tiny little thing.

“Hey! What was that for?” Eddie sputtered.

“For waiting so long to come visit this time! I missed you too, jerk.”

He rubbed at the spot where she’d hit him. It didn’t actually hurt all that much, but he liked to play along. “Jeez, Chris. Funny way of showing it.”

“You love it.”

“Keep it in your pants, lady, you’re not my type.” Eddie teased.

“Freak!”

“Priss!”

The two of them dissolved into hysterics, falling into another hug just to keep eachother upright.

When they both finally calmed down enough to behave normally again, Chrissy’s expression turned serious. She spoke low. “So, as I'm sure you noticed, we have another hometown guest joining us.”

“Yeah, what's he doing here anyway?”

“He’s visiting Robin for the summer.” Chrissy said it as if it should have been obvious.

It wasn’t.

“...Why?”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “He’s her best friend! I’ve told you this a million times, how do you always forget?”

She was right, he did always forget that when Robin talked about her friend Steve, that it was Harrington she was talking about. It was such an odd pairing that Eddie just sort of blocked it out. He couldn’t reconcile the Steve from Robin’s stories with the guy he remembered from Hawkins.

“Right, fine, sorry. What about him?”

“Well, you know this is our first season, and the booking system is so new and confusing. We… might have accidentally overbooked, but it's okay! Because the three of us were talking about it, and since the one room we do have left is a double queen we thought.. ”

Eddie interrupted, grabbing her by the hand and tugging her roughly across the lobby as far from the other two people as he could.

“Are you crazy? You want me to be roommates with King Steve?!” Eddie hissed. “Have you completely forgotten what a giant asshole the guy is?!”

“We’re not in high school anymore, Eds. He’s always been nice to me, and if what Robin tells me is true, then Steve isn’t like that anymore. Maybe he never was.”

Eddie's jaw tightened. “Right.”

“Look at me! I changed, and we became friends. Why couldn’t Steve be a good guy underneath it all too?”

“That’s different, you were always a good person, you just ran with a bad crowd for a while, not to mention the boyfriend we do not speak of.”

“Exactly! So isn't it possible Steve is the same?”

“No!”

“I’m serious! Think about it, do you remember him ever doing or saying anything shitty to you directly? Or was he just there in the background while his friends did?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “Assholery by proxy is still assholery.”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

“Come on Chris!” Eddie whined. Had they been alone he might have even stomped his feet. “Don’t make me do this. Can’t I share with you?”

“You know I live with Robin.”

“Okay, and? It’s only for the Summer. She can stay with Steve, since they are apparently best friends, and I can stay with you! It’s a perfect solution.”

Chrissy shook her head. “Our room is a single and I love the shit out of you, but I draw the line at sharing a bed.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, does that mean you finally got your act together and told her how you feel?”

Chrissy turned bright red and threw her hand over his mouth. “Oh my god. SHUT. UP. Of course I haven't told her!!” She whisper-shouted.

Eddie scrunched his face and tried to talk, but Chrissy refused to move her hand. So, naturally, he licked it.

“Gross!” Chrissy yanked her hand back with a look of disgust.

“Jeez, I know it’s not the tongue you were hoping for, but it wasn’t that bad!” Eddie said, cackling.

Chrissy whirled around, probably worried that Robin had overheard them, but Eddie was a good friend. As much as he liked to mess with her, he’d been keeping a close eye on the other side of the room, and Steve and Robin were too engrossed in their own whisper-shouting match to pay them any attention.

Eddie leaned forward, speaking close to her ear. “Are you telling me that you and Robin run this place together all day, and share a bed every night, and you still don’t think she likes you back?”

“It’s not like that!” Chrissy insisted. “We make more money from the doubles. Financially it made more sense for us to live in one of the singles. We’re just…two really good friends having a never ending sleepover.”

Eddie wasn’t convinced and honestly it didn’t sound like she was either, but he’d drop it for now. “Whatever you say.”

“So, what do you think about sharing with Steve?”

Eddie groaned. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’m sure you two will get along fine. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover you have some things in common.” She sounded so optimistic, it was her one flaw.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'm sure we’ll come out of this as the best of friends.”

“That’s the spirit!” Chrissy cheered.

“I was being sarcastic!!” Eddie hissed.

Apparently Steve had also agreed to this outrageous living arrangement, reluctantly Eddie guessed, though he did an excellent job at hiding how unhappy he must be about it. The guy was all smiles. It made Eddie want to punch him in the face.

Eddie, on the other hand, would not be making any effort to hide his true feelings. Partly because he didn’t care, but mostly because he’d never been any good at it. For better or worse Eddie lived his life as something of an open book. From the time he was a small child he was told by friends, family, and teachers that they could practically read every thought as it crossed his face.

Chrissy had to leave for a meeting with the bank, nothing bad she assured him, they were just looking into an additional small loan to make more improvements on the place, but that left Robin to show him and Steve to their room.

Eddie liked Robin well enough, but he’d only ever hung out with her and Chrissy. He worried that she might act differently or something with Steve around. It became clear, however, when he heard her call the guy dingus for the 3rd time during their 5 minute journey, that his worry was unfounded. Robin was Robin, and she changed for no one. He appreciated that, and kept his guard up, ready to defend her if need be. He expected Steve to finally have enough and lash out, to be the mean girl he remembered from years ago, but it never happened.

Man, this guy was good.

The Buckingham was the kind of motel where all the doors opened to the outside. Some towards the front street, giving a beautiful view of the ocean, others opened up to the pool area in the backyard. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a perk of being friends with the owner, or a consolation for the mix up, but he and Steve were given a room on the second floor, ocean side. There was even a cute little wooden bench next to their door, "In case you two ever want to sit out and watch the sunrise,” or so said Robin.

Eddie hadn’t woken before 10am voluntarily since he graduated and he didn’t think the lure of a few pretty colors in the sky was going to end that streak, but he politely kept that thought to himself.

“That’s a nice thought, Robs, though I think I'll get to see plenty of sunrises at work too” Steve chuckled.

Robin shuddered. “You’re a better man than me.” She said.

“What does that mean?” Eddie asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

“I’m working as a lifeguard on the beach, so I'll be up at the crack of dawn nearly every day anyway.”

Eddie grimaced. Jesus Christ, a prick and an early riser. Lovely.

“Don’t worry.” Steve added quickly. “I'll be careful not to wake you up. I know how to be stealthy, like a ninja.”

It was the dorkiest way he could have said it, and Eddie almost cracked a smile, but he held firm in his grumpiness by the skin of his teeth. “You’d better.”

Steve performed a little cross-your-heart gesture. “Seriously, my roommate in college was a really light sleeper, so I have a lot of practice being quiet.”

Eddie’s lip nearly betrayed him, twitching upwards like a traitor. Luckily, Robin drew Steve’s attention away, allowing him a moment to regain control.

“Oh, I’ll just bet you do.” Robin teased.

Steve’s cheeks flushed, but he ignored her and turned back to Eddie. “What about you? Are you getting a job, or just hanging out?”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I got a part time gig bartending at a place a few blocks over. The guy even said he’d let me play sometimes when the regular live acts are on break. Looks like we’ll be living on opposite schedules. We may never see each other awake.” The last part was said almost gleefully.

Steve’s smile wavered for a second, but quickly returned to its full power. “Well, lucky for you I’m a very heavy sleeper, so you don't have to worry about waking me up when you come home. Even if you did, I usually have no trouble going back to sleep, so it’s not a big deal.”

Eddie grit his teeth. He was annoyed. What did he have to do to get a rise out of this guy, huh? To get a peek behind the mask? And who did he think he was, saying ‘lucky for you’? The only person it was lucky for was Steve, because he would be damned if he’d be tip-toeing around his own place.

Robin handed them each a key to the room and left them to it, once she confirmed that both keys worked and that they didn’t have any questions.

The room was small.

Two queen beds made up the majority of the space, with a single nightstand wedged between them. A T.V. sat on top of a small dresser with six drawers. There was a tiny closet, and an efficiency kitchen consisting of a small sink, mini-fridge, microwave, two burner cooktop, and a little table with two chairs.

Eddie dropped his bags in the middle of the floor. As much as he would have liked to just keep ignoring Steve, the space was tight enough that they would have to dance around each other the whole time they were unpacking. They also needed to figure out how they were going to split everything.

“Alright, how do you want to do this?”

The only thing Steve expressed a preference for was taking the bed closest to the door, which sounded like some alpha male bullshit to Eddie, honestly. As if Steve needed to be the first line of defense if someone were to break in while they were sleeping. The idea was ridiculous and definitely not at all sexy.

Eddie wanted the bed by the window anyway, so it was fine.

Once that was negotiated, they began to put their things away. It was all too easy, Steve kept deferring to him, even offering to give up one of his drawers when he realized how much stuff Eddie had. It was infuriating, borderline suspicious. What did he expect to get out of all this politeness and generosity? There was no one here to impress!

Eddie curtly refused the offer, which Steve only shrugged at, saying there would be plenty of extra closet space anyway, as he only had a few dress shirts to hang up. Eddie gave up then, leaving about half of his band tees in one of the bags and kicked it under the bed before throwing himself on top of it. He watched through barely open eyelids as Steve pulled his extensive collection of very tiny swim trunks out of his bag, and contemplated the injustices of the world.

He laid there quietly brooding as Steve found a home for every single item he’d managed to squeeze into the small suitcase. It was frankly impressive, not that Eddie would ever tell him that.

Finally, Steve picked up a rather large toiletry bag and wandered away. Eddie followed. This was something he had to see, the guy hadn’t been called ‘The Hair’ for nothing.

He stood in the doorway and watched through the mirror as Steve hummed softly to himself, arranging his plethora of hair and skin care products in their small bathroom, being ever so careful to only take up half of the counter space.

For some reason, that was the final straw.

“What’s your deal?” Eddie snapped. It was more of an accusation than a question, and he prayed Steve would rise to the bait.

Of course he didn’t, remaining frustratingly calm and collected as he asked in return, “What do you mean?”

Eddie growled. “I just don’t appreciate the nice act, okay, King Steve? I’d rather you be real, and be a dick, than this fake polite bullshit.”

For half a second Steve looked almost sad, like Eddie had hurt his feelings, but it was gone so quickly that he assumed he imagined it.

Steve smiled and shook his head, finally looking up to make eye contact with Eddie’s reflection. “I don’t know what to tell you, man. What you see is pretty much what you get. King Steve? Now that shit was an act.”

Fine, if Steve wanted to pretend he was a good guy now, Eddie would just have to see how far he could push him. Sure his BFF was an out and proud lesbian, but how would he react knowing that the guy he was going to share a room with for the next 12 weeks was gay?

“Y’know, we should probably work out a system for when we want to bring dates home. I remember your reputation for getting around with the ladies, and I know I'm hoping to bring more than a few guys back for a nightcap after the bar closes, if you catch my drift. So, what do you think?” Eddie had started out his little speech feeling brave and a bit cocky, but by the end of it there was sweat pooling on his upper lip, and he was thinking maybe this wasn’t the best way to come out to a former jock who could probably snap him in two with half a thought.

It elicited exactly zero reaction. Steve didn’t miss a beat, didn’t even bat an eye before he asked, “What, like, putting a tie on the door or something?”

Eddie wanted to scream.

“I’m sure we can do better than that.” He huffed, looking erratically around the rest of their room until he spotted the set of hang tags sitting on the table in the kitchen area.

Eddie beamed.Most hotels just had the standard ‘please service’ or ‘do not disturb’ messages on their tags, but of course the girls would try and get creative with it.

“Here, these’ll work.” Eddie said, barely managing to hold back a laugh as he held the first one up for Harrington to look at.

Steve read aloud. “Out to sea. Cute.”

“Right, so we can use this one when the coast is clear, and this one when one of us has a guest.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled as he raised the other sign.

“My boat is docked. Do not disturb.” Steve said, cheeks turning pink as he read.

“See?! It’s perfect.” Eddie beamed.

As it turned out, Eddie was right. He and Steve had been cohabitating for 4 days already and he hadn’t seen the guy awake since they went to bed that first night after a meal of chinese takeout and a bad movie.

Steve was already asleep when Eddie got back from the bar at 2am each night, and he was long gone by the time Eddie rolled out of bed in the morning. Though, in his continued campaign to act like a good person, Steve had made a habit of leaving half a pot of coffee on the warmer for him. Eddie thought about dumping it out of spite, but it was…nice.

It brought back memories of Wayne doing the same, leaving coffee and often food out on the kitchen table for him to easily grab on his way out the door, because his uncle knew he wouldn’t have anything otherwise. It was comforting, and though he knew Steve didn’t really mean it that way, it made Eddie feel taken care of. He’d take that feeling where he could get it for now, even if it came from someone he couldn’t stand.

Work was busy that night. It was his first Saturday night behind the bar, and the place was absolutely heaving with sweaty bodies grinding themselves together to the tune of whatever shitty top 40’s cover the band played. Anytime he had a moment to breathe he found himself scanning the crowd. Chrissy had assured him that their part of town was queer friendly, though there was no actual gay bar to speak of, but he had yet to notice a single guy that set his radar off, until now.

He was tall, blonde, insanely tanned, and sure, Eddie usually preferred brunettes, but when the pickings were slim, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He was cute enough, and he was looking at Eddie like he wanted to eat him alive.

Perfect.

Eddie knew he looked good. He’d put a little more thought into getting ready than he had on previous days, knowing that the weekend crowd would give him a better chance. His black jeans were skin tight, and the boss had let him cut his white uniform t-shirt into a crop top, showing off a strip of pale skin and trim waist anytime he raised his arms. To top it all off, he’d worn his hair up today with just a few tendrils falling around his face. Honestly, that had been mostly to ward off the heat, but he also knew it was one of his best looks. He met the nameless man’s gaze from across the room and held it firm as he dried a pint glass, raising his eyebrow in question.

The man smiled glancing at his friends, who were far too busy chatting up a group of barely legal young girls to pay him any mind, before sauntering up to lean across the bar.

“What time do you get off, gorgeous?”

Eddie smirked. “Meet me by the side door in an hour.”

The streets were quiet as Eddie and his new friend walked the few blocks from the bar to the motel. A fact they took full advantage of, stopping to shove their tongues down each other's throats at regular intervals along the way.

So caught up in finally getting a little action, it wasn’t until Eddie was leading the way up the stairs to their floor that he remembered Steve. It was late, guaranteeing that he would already be in bed fast asleep. Somehow, Eddie hadn’t considered this little problem when they’d worked out the whole do-not-disturb sign system. Oh well, he’d just have to wake Steve up and tell him to get out for a while.

He told his date to wait outside while he got rid of his roommate and slipped inside the dark room. He looked down at Steve’s sleeping form and almost changed his mind. It didn’t feel right to kick him out of his own bed just so he could get off, but then Eddie remembered the way Tommy Hagan, Steve’s second in command, used to spit the word queer in his face as he shoved him into the lockers, and he found all the motivation he needed.

“Hey, Harrington?” Eddie murmured as he shook Steve's shoulder.

Steve stirred, waking slowly and frowning up at Eddie with heavy eyelids.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep but also with worry.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. Oh.

He hesitated to answer for a moment, but quickly shook himself out of it.

Don’t start feeling bad about this now, Munson, get your shit together.

“Nothing, I, um, just need the room for a bit?”

Real smooth.

Steve frowned harder. “What? I don’t…”

Eddie saw the moment it clicked.

“Oh. Ok, I'll just take a blanket down to one of the pool loungers.”

“Great. I’ll let you know when.. he’s gone.” Eddie said, opening the door and moving aside to let Steve pass.

He had expected to feel a sense of satisfaction for managing a hook up before Steve did, but as Eddie watched him shuffle off wrapped up in a blanket after giving the blonde an awkward nod, he just kinda felt like a jerk.

Bar guy hurried inside and shut the door behind him, kissing Eddie hard and crowding him into the wall before dropping to his knees right there. He made quick work of the fly on Eddie’s jeans and had them pulled down around his thighs in a matter of seconds. Eddie moaned as his length was engulfed by the warm wetness of an eager mouth, and all thoughts of feeling bad about Steve drifted away under the attention of a stranger's talented tongue. Eddie came quickly and eagerly returned the favor. After a quick cleanup and no cuddling, blondie was gone, and Eddie went down to the pool to wake Steve.

Tagging a few folks who I think were interested, just let me know if you want to be removed. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, i'd be more than happy to do so!

@penny00dreadful @every-aj-needs-an-angel @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming

#can’t zone in for SHIT at the moment but DEFINITELY coming back for this one!!!!#fic

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poplarste · 9 months

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“They’re all grown up,” Eddie muses, and he hopes the comment carries more levity than he feels.

Thankfully, Steve snorts. “God, it doesn’t feel that way, most of the time.”

Eddie takes a sip of his beer as he looks over to him. Swallowing, he asks, “no?”

Steve shrugs, gaze on the lake as it reflects the rapidly setting sun. “Maybe it’s just me and my own rose colored glasses,” he smiles sardonically, “but I don’t think I’ll ever see them as any older than fourteen. No matter how they change.”

He says it like he knows they’ll still be here in ten years, in thirty, in fifty, that when they’re all old they’ll be able to find their way together again and again.

Eddie takes another sip of his beer as Robin shrieks out a laugh, her voice filling the air between them as she dives out of the way of Argyle’s lunge.

“Don’t tell them that, though.” Eddie’s gaze flicks back to Steve, and he’s smiling properly, now. “They give me enough shit as it is.”

Eddie smiles and nods to him as Jonathan fills the empty chair next to them, a freshly rolled joint between his fingers. He waggles it enticingly at them both, Steve waving him off the same time Eddie smiles.

It’s good weed. Californian purple palms fucking something, and it only takes two passes between them before Argyle joins them, holding the joint between his lips as he shakes out his own lawn chair.

He sighs when he sits, passing it back over to Jonathan.

“Nothing’s better than this, man.” He says, and he leans so far back that his long hair nearly brushes the grass.

Steve nods in agreement from his other side, a small smile on his lips. “Cheers to that,” he says, and brings his beer up a few inches before bringing it to his lips.

They sit there until the joint is nothing but filter and the beers are finished, until half the group is back on the shore and Steve decides he’s gonna go all Boy Scout and start their fire.

Apparently, they need kindling.

“Would you mind?” Steve asks him, like there is anything on this planet Eddie would mind doing for him. “Just little twigs and things. Make sure they’re dry.”

“I’ll help,” Robin offers, “let me grab my shoes.”

Five minutes later he and Robin are waltzing through the woods surrounding their campsite, Nancy’s words of warning regarding poison ivy on their heels.

“We can get big branches and then break them up and that’s kindling, right?” Robin asks, pulling a rather large branch from the underbrush.

“It’s all moldy, Robs,” Eddie says, and she drops it in agreement, dusting off her hands.

Eddie begins his small collection, fingers quickly becoming caked with sap and general woodsy ick. Robin sticks close as they wander through the underbrush, and Eddie feels like she’s gearing up to say something, her normal chatty demeanor absent as they search.

“So,” she says, after another minute, and Eddie wonders what this could possibly turn into. “You’re still liking LA, then?”

Eddie glances over to her but her focus is still on the forest floor, and he hesitates while she stoops to pick up another handful of twigs.

“Erm,” he starts, because they’ve had this conversation already. “Yeah, like I said, it’s not perfect and we’re not like, selling out stadiums, but we’ve got some fans who’re into our niche sound. And Jeff landed us this gig in a couple of weeks that could be really big for us. Like, other artists have been discovered there, ya know?” He stomps down on a thin branch, breaking it into pieces before he gathers them.

Robin hums, “you didn’t answer my question, though.”

This time, when Eddie looks up, she’s staring back at him.

“I asked how you like LA. Not how the band’s doing in LA.”

Eddie shuffles his feet, glancing up and over her shoulder, because how is he supposed to articulate this? What he’s never even told his band because he doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself. That maybe, after it all, after all of their years of planning, of their shared dream of making it, of moving to LA and doing the damn thing, they’re there, at the very edge, and it’s now that Eddie’s having doubts.

He shrugs, goes for an easy smile, says, with as much ease as he can muster, “I’m happy, Robs.”

——

They clear too many packages of hotdogs and half a bottle of ketchup that night, and the air is warm and comforting as the setting sun colors the sky from orange to red to purple, finally fading into an inky black with more stars than Eddie’s seen since he left Indiana. He’s sat between Steve and Mike, which means Steve has to pass him the joint whenever Argyle hands it to him. Eddie should probably just move, but Steve passing it to him means their fingers keep brushing, and Eddie’s feeling selfish.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Robin says around a mouthful of marshmallow, commenting on Nancy’s butchered second dog.

She’s not wrong. Eddie loves ranch as much as the next good old midwestern boy, but it’s nothing compared to Nancy, who squelches tablespoons of it all over her plate so she can dip her hot dog into the condiment.

Nancy takes an exaggerated bite in retaliation, somehow not allowing any of the sauce to smear across her thin lips.

Robin fake gags, the effect ruined by the gooey marshmallow still clinging to her molars.

Dustin, somehow, and definitely unwisely, finds a way to insert himself into that, voice going high as he defends Nancy’s condiment overusage. El, similarly unwisely, asks why they are arguing about a salad dressing.

And soon the entire group is squabbling about ranch.

It’s comforting, Eddie realizes, the way they can all bicker and jab at one another. In the way they’re all so comfortable- comfortable enough for Max to flip El off for calling ranch a mere salad dressing, enough for Lucas to wave his arms and let his voice grow when Argyle calls it overrated. And it’s all so much. They’re all so much. It’s borderline overwhelming, and Eddie can’t contain his smile.

And the thing is, Eddie loves his band. He loves Jeff and Gareth and Trevor more than he could ever express, but they’re his brothers. Family. Because despite anything that could ever grow between them they will always be together, any of their choices be damned. There’s no going back, with them.

But this? Around this campfire are the people who have over and over again chosen Eddie, and who he has chosen again and again in return. That even through distance and time they haven’t stopped making the same choices.

And, as much as he loathes to admit it, the upside down changed him. Down to his bones he is different, as only a true toe to toe showdown with death can bring about. And that is something his brothers will never understand. That he desperately hopes they never will. With these people, it’s different. Different in a way he’s trying to excuse away, because he left this, it’s too late for him, now.

“Missed this, huh?” Steve asks, sarcastically, and Eddie’s broken from his train of thought as Steve hands him the last bit of the joint. “The beer makes them worse.”

Their fingers brush, again, as Eddie takes it, Steve’s fingers warm and calloused against his own.

Eddie does little to temper his smile before replying, “you don’t know the half of it, Stevie.” It’s earnest, too much so, he realizes, through his high. But Steve’s hand lingers in his space, hand floating between them for a beat too long before he returns it to his lap.

“Really?” Steve asks, and his face is illuminated by firelight, softening his broad features into sepia tones, his voice low from his third bottle of beer.

Eddie wants to reach out and touch him, have Steve’s hand back in his personal space so he can curl his fingers around it without the excuse of the joint, hold those calloused palms between his own until they’re both the same temperature, until having Steve’s skin pressed against his own feels like an extension of himself.

Eddie licks his lips, watches as Steve’s eyes track the movement, and he wonders, briefly, deliriously, if now, at this point in their lives, they could make it work.

He’s about to reply, about to say something earnest and heartfelt like leaving you was harder than learning to walk again, but then Mike is slapping his hand from the other side, and the moment is lost.

“Eddie!” Mike nearly shouts, still slapping the arm of his chair, “we’re still going cryptid hunting, right?”

It takes Eddie a moment to claw through his own haze and realize what the hell the kid is going on about. “Y-yes.” He manages, catching Dustin’s hopeful gaze. “Yeah, man. Absolutely. Cryptids. Wouldn’t miss ‘em.”

“Okay, great, because last time we saw them was really early in the morning- so we should try going at the same time, we’ll wake you, okay?” Mike asks, looking at Eddie like getting up early was the given and he just needs to confirm whether or not he needs the alarm.

And Eddie’s used to late nights, not early mornings (he can’t remember the last time he woke before 11 am- this morning not included) but he’s always been a goddamn sucker for these kids. “Yeah, thanks, man, that’d be great.”

And then Mike fucking beams at him, the bastard, so Eddie knows he can’t wriggle out of this tomorrow morning with claims that he’s hungover or tired or whatever the hell else excuse he can come up with.

Then Dustin says they better hit the sack now, if they’re gonna get up early, and Mike agrees, so Eddie looks to Steve for help, who just shrugs at him. Traitor.

“Right,” Eddie agrees, and he downs the last of his beer and gives a little salute. “I guess that’s my cue too.”

The bathrooms are a ten minute walk away and objectively disgusting, and Eddie’s been in a lot of disgusting bathrooms. Maybe he’s the fucked up one, but he’d rather have mysterious liquids on the floor than bugs, which are crawling around his feet on their little legs and buzzing around his head with their little wings and he wonders if this is truly worth the preservation of his enamel.

Somehow, through the little legs and the little wings, he survives, and is able to make his way back to his tent.

Eddie lays awake for a long while. He’s not sure what time it is, but he knows it’s far earlier than he normally finds himself in bed. The minutes click by and he slowly becomes more and more aware of the bumps in the ground, the rock (pebble) that is burrowing its way into his shoulder blade. He tosses and turns, drifting in and out of half dozes, until he hears soft, crunching footsteps and then the zip of the zipper, loud in the now quiet night.

Eddie peaks his eyes open as Steve clambers in, his silhouette illuminated by the waxing moon.

Briefly, they make eye contact, and Steve winces.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S’okay,” Eddie mumbles, as Steve zips the tent closed behind him. “Can’t sleep anyways.”

Steve slips into his own sleeping bag. “Not used to the sounds of nature, Eds? The cicadas keeping you up?”

Eddie smiles, hopes Steve can see it in the darkness. “There’s a rock that has it out for my spine, actually.” He scoots down until the offending specimen is no longer digging into him, causing his legs to bunch at the tent door.

He hears Steve huff a laugh. “That has to be more uncomfortable.”

Eddie shrugs. “I spent many a night on couches with far less leg room.”

Steve doesn’t reply, so Eddie lets his eyes fall closed, again, pretends he can hear Steve’s breaths over the hum of the insects outside, pretends he can feel his heartbeat through the earth.

He’s half asleep when Steve says, “c’mere, then.”

When he looks up, Steve is scrunched against the far side of the tent, leaving Eddie room right next to him.

Wordlessly, he obeys, stretching up until he’s face to face with Steve, close enough, now, that they could be sharing the same pillow.

“Better?” Steve asks, and now Eddie can hear his gentle breaths.

Eddie nods, doesn’t want his voice to break through the quiet of the night. He can’t see Steve’s face in the dark, but he feels him move, the slight curling of his legs until their knees are brushing through too many layers of fabric.

Steve doesn’t say anything else, so Eddie closes his eyes, again, and pretends he can feel Steve’s heartbeat through the earth.

Excerpt from my WIP for #LexsSummerFanworksChallenge, which is posted on Ao3 here.

#hoooooooooooly fuck i need to put this on a stick and hold it in a fire and let it get all gooey and eat it #fic

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