Steve is always the first to fall asleep.
The first time Eddie had insisted Steve stay the night, he and Eddie had stayed up late watching a movie and Steve had looked like he was about to pass out. Eddie wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if Steve had fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home, so he’d told Steve to just stay. Then he’d gotten up to brush his teeth and had come back to find Steve already zonked out on the couch. From that very first time, Steve has always fallen asleep before Eddie.
When their movie nights run long, Steve starts nodding off against the back of the couch, and then later against Eddie’s shoulder. On nights when being alone just doesn’t feel like an option, when occupying the same bed just seems like the most practical solution, it’s always Steve whose eyes slip closed first, who starts up that whistling little snore that he vehemently denies when he’s awake. Later, Eddie finds out that Steve will fall asleep even faster with Eddie all wrapped up around him, arm tight around Steve’s waist.
Once, when they head out to the lake to smoke in the back of Eddie’s van, doors thrown open to let in the clear night, Steve falls asleep half on the mess of blankets Eddie had thrown down as cushioning, and half on top of Eddie. Eddie himself doesn’t really sleep that night; it isn’t safe for them to both fall asleep – not out here, not like this, but Steve looks so fucking exhausted that Eddie doesn’t really want to wake him. Steve drives them home in the morning, and Eddie catches a nap then.
The only exception, really, is on the nights when Eddie has nightmares, when Eddie is feeling jumpy, when Eddie can’t help but look at every fluttering shadow as a threat. Then, Steve will sit up against the pillows and pull Eddie back against him and promise to keep watch; and with Steve solid and steadfast at his back, Eddie can’t help but fall asleep.
At least, Eddie had assumed that was the only exception.
D&D runs long one night—the kids’ parents don’t seem to mind their staying out late as long as they know they’re all at Steve’s house, and Eddie will never let him live down his popularity with the suburban moms, considering how many parties he’d thrown during his high school years—and they agree that it would be easier to simply crash at Steve’s for the night than it would be to go dropping everyone off at home at goddamn midnight.
They pop a movie in and set up around the living room with blankets and pillows raided from closets and spare rooms. The boys are relegated to the floor while El and Max cohabitate in the easy chair. Erica stretches out on the couch, but since she’s short and the couch is enormous, it’s easy for Eddie and Steve to curl up together at the other end.
“You gonna make it to the end of the movie?” Eddie teases, even while draping Steve’s arm over his shoulder like it’s his favorite blanket.
From the floor, Dustin snorts. “Are you kidding? Steve never falls asleep first.”
“I think I’ve only seen him sleep once, but that might’ve been a trick of the light,” Will adds, and Lucas snickers.
Eddie turns to glance at Steve, because what the kids are saying is patently untrue, but Steve only raises his eyebrows at Eddie. “I think I’ll be fine,” he says, and turns back to the screen.
And, in fact, by the end of the movie, nearly everyone else has dropped off, but Steve is still perfectly alert. Even Eddie, who at some point ended up mostly horizontal, with his legs parallel to Erica’s and his torso in Steve’s lap, is starting to nod off. He wants to ask Steve if there’s anything wrong, ask why he hasn’t gone all sleepy and soft at Eddie’s side like he always does, but then Steve’s fingers work their way into Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s out like a light.
They’re woken in the morning by the sound of teenagers trying to be quiet in the kitchen, and it’s like nothing at all out of the ordinary has happened, but Eddie’s curiosity is piqued now, so he starts paying attention.
Any time the kids are with them for the night, any of the kids at any of their houses, Steve stays awake. He stays up while everyone else falls asleep around him, while even Eddie falls asleep, and Eddie realizes – he’s keeping watch. He’s looking out for threats while everyone else is vulnerable.
But he almost never seems to worry about staying awake when it’s just him and Eddie.
Eddie tries to puzzle it out. He spends half an hour or so potentially offended that Steve apparently cares what happens to the kids but not to Eddie, but he knows that isn’t it. Steve is always awake when Eddie needs him to be – and what’s more, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve sleep more soundly than when he’s curled up against Eddie, circled by his arms.
It’s not that Steve doesn’t care at all, it’s that he trusts Eddie. He trusts Eddie more than anyone.
This is a mind-blowing revelation, somehow. Eddie has no idea what he’s done to earn it, but he knows immediately that he’s going to do his damndest to keep it.
The next time they end up in sleepover formation, it’s in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re all crunched up on chairs and the old sofa, though the braver party members (or at least those more inured to the stains on the carpet) have decided to take their chances with the floor.
It’s been a bad week; one of the few nights Steve had decided to simply head home to sleep after a late shift instead of coming over to Eddie’s had been a nasty, blustery night, and the power in Loch Nora had flickered, and flickered, and then gone out entirely.
Steve, the idiot, had stuck it out the whole night, but Eddie doubts he’d slept. And he hasn’t slept right since, twitching at every noise and shifting restlessly against whatever his dreams were assaulting him with. For once, Eddie had actually been the safer option as carpool driver; Steve has looked ready to drop all night.
Now, Eddie looks up at him from his spot on the floor, where he’s been leaning against Steve’s chair, half asleep against his legs and resting his head on Steve’s knee. He can see Steve’s eyes start to droop closed, his breathing going slower, deeper, and then, almost as if shocked, Steve sits up again, blinking and shaking his head, searching the room for danger that isn’t there. It makes Eddie’s chest hurt.
Quietly, he stands up off the floor, patting Steve on the hip.
“Up,” Eddie orders, and, sleep-deprived and half on autopilot, Steve obeys.
He watches in confusion as Eddie pulls over a milk crate full of old magazines and then sits down in the chair Steve has just vacated. He scoots back as far as he can and spreads his legs to make room for Steve in front of him.
“Lean back,” Eddie says softly, once he’s tugged Steve down into the chair, then gestures at the crate. “Put your feet up.”
“Eddie...” Steve protests, barely more than a mumble as he practically melts into Eddie, hands coming up to cover the ones that are clasped over his waist.
“Shh. I’ve got them. I’ll keep watch.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, murmuring into his ear, “Get some rest.”
And, miraculously, Steve does.
Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink that night, and the position he’s resigned himself to is deeply uncomfortable, but for the grateful look Steve sends him in the morning, for the renewed light in his eyes, Eddie figures it’s worth it.
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if you're able, consider giving a few bucks to National Bail Out this weekend for their yearly Free Black Mamas campaign, in which they post bail for Black mothers and caregivers leading up to and on mother's day. from their website:
Every day, tens of thousands of people languish in jail simply because they cannot afford bail. In addition to the $25 billion wasted on incarcerating people convicted of no crime, pretrial incarceration has catastrophic impacts on families and communities. Black people are incarcerated at nearly five times the rate of white people and, once arrested, are twice as likely to be caged before trial. Our LGBTQ and gender-nonconforming families are targeted and caged at even more alarming rates, and once in jail, they are significantly more likely to be sexually and physically abused.
Many of the Mamas and caregivers we bail out end up in cages because the state has failed to provide housing, employment opportunities, and health care. Most people are in cages because they are poor, Black, and in a time of crisis, whether it is a mental health crisis, an addiction crisis, an economic crisis, or an accumulation of crises. Instead of treating people with dignity and addressing the underlying cause of the crisis, our government responds to Black people in crisis by criminalizing and incarcerating us.
according to one of their fundraising emails, they've bailed out 95 mothers and caregivers as of this morning, in AL, AR, CA, FL, GA, MD, MI, MO, NY, NC, OK, PA, and TX. let's help keep it going.
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