As the sun rises in the morning sky, its rays blooming shyly above the trees, Steve slams his back against the door of his car to close it, holding two large boxes stacked on top of each other. With a groan and hoping that his hands won't falter, he waddles up to the gym of Hawkins High, knocking softly on the door with his foot. Within a heartbeat, it flies wide open, revealing Rosie with a wide smile.
"Come in, sweetheart," she chimes, taking the upper box from him to help.
"Thanks, Rosie!"
She closes the door behind him, careful not to let it shut too loudly to avoid interrupting the sheltered crowd's much deserved rest. Steve drops the box on the laundry table with a heavy sigh and wipes his forehead with the back of his wrist. Rosie places the second box next to him, smiling widely at him.
"I managed to get you the extra table, I'm gonna show you where it is," she whispers. "How sweet of you to do this, Stevie!"
He smiles and follows her to the changing rooms, where he finds a folded table resting against the unused lockers. The sight of them brings a wave of nostalgia with a hint of pain as he remembers the hours he spent there with his teammates on the basketball team. Everything flashes in his mind as the echo of their laughter resounds in his ears. Most of them are sitting on the benches, chatting about upcoming games and girls, some others rummaging through their lockers with a short towel hanging around their necks, searching for deodorant and clean clothes to change. Sometimes, their coach would cross the room examining notes on a clipboard, hardly paying attention to them as long as they behaved.
But they were teenage boys, and they weren't known for good behavior.
And now, the room was reduced to silence. Besides the refugees from the so-called earthquake, nobody ever used it anymore. Some lockers have been cleared for them to be able to keep the few precious belongings they have left, but the lockers were hardly touched in weeks.
Some wouldn't be used again until the next year. A few of them belonged to the high schoolers who passed in the tragedy. Nobody dared remove their possessions, feeling like doing so would be to erase their memory and let them vanish for good.
Folding his knees to get some impulse, Steve picks up the heavy wooden table, gazing at the scribbles left over the years. Rosie steps aside to let him through and show him the way to the spot she found to install it. Next to the exit used by the children to join their friends to school, he unfolds the table, clicking the legs until they reach the right height and adjusting it so that the path remains clear. Once he's done, he fetches a chair and brings the first box, putting it down on the cold wood.
One by one, he picks up the small paper bags he spent his entire evening preparing after buying all the necessary supplies at the grocer's, having called them a few days earlier to order the right amounts. He aligns them on the table, row by row, until the first box is empty. Before he turns around to get the second one, Rosie brings it to him alongside a cup of coffee with a piece of toast she prepared just for him.
"Thank you, Rosie," he whispers, hugging her when her hands are free. "I don't know what I would've done without you."
"Oh, it's nothing, sweetheart. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Not for now, I've got everything under control."
"Amazing! If you need me, you know where to find me. I'll be there until lunchtime, then I'm going home."
He nods and waves at her as she struts away to busy herself with the load of clean laundry, sorting them out into neat piles and making little signs with the names of their owners so that they can pick them up. Meanwhile, Steve empties the second box onto the table, making other rows of paper bags. Once all of them are out, he controls their contents, making sure that all of them contain the same amount of snacks and water bottles, except for one, marked with a black piece of ribbon he found at home.
As he sits on the chair with a sigh, massaging his leg, he throws the boxes next to him and places the marked bag next to him. Hearing some of the sleepers stir out of their slumber, he brings the hot coffee to his lips and waits patiently for everyone to have breakfast.
Half an hour later, the first seniors make their way towards the exit with a heavy heart, some shaking under the burst of stress. Steve calls and hands them one bag each, wishing them good luck for their first final exams. The gesture brings a smile to some of their faces despite their fear, comforted by his warmth and the sight of snacks inside the brown bag.
When most of the shelter is wide awake, sharing breakfast quietly, Max heads towards the exit in turn, noticing Steve sitting there. She pulls her headphones off her ears with a smirk and raised eyebrows.
"You traded your white van for the shelter, perv?" she teases, earning a face from him.
"Very funny, mole-rat."
"Is that for seniors only?"
"Yes, but you know me, I've made an extra one just for you," he grins, handing her one of the bags on the table. "How's it going at school?"
"Fine. Still got a few tests to go through."
"Well, good luck!"
"Thanks, perv."
"Love you too."
He chuckles and watches her leave, craning his neck to make sure that she doesn't trip on her way. Back to his table, he keeps handing out the bags with warm smiles and words of encouragement. From the corner of his eye, he sees one silhouette awake later than the others, checking his watch and slipping clothes on without taking a shower. He grins at the view of the curly brown mane, feeling the heat crossing his own face.
Within a minute, Eddie approaches, waving at Rosie on his way out. Clutching his lunchbox, he stops in his tracks when he sees Steve, half-surprised to see him there.
"Good morning, Eddie," he greets in a whisper, cracking as his heart skips a beat. "How are you feeling today?"
"Good?"
"Ready for your exams?"
"Yeah."
Eddie's eyes trail the rows of paper bags in confusion.
"What's all this?"
"A little good luck present for the seniors."
"Mmh," he shrugs. "Hawkins High is outdoing itself this time."
"Actually, it's from me."
"Mmh."
Without waiting for Steve to say anything, Eddie reaches out to the first bag in sight, wanting to avoid any more chit chat with him. When his hand stops him, brushing the back of his fingers, he looks up, meeting Steve's unexpectedly bubbly eyes.
"I've got a special one for you."
Steve picks up the bag marked with the ribbon at his foot and hands it out to him. Dumbfounded, Eddie opens it and finds a water bottle, a bottle of cherry soda, a handful of M & M's bags and Skittles, as well as two cookie boxes of his favorite kind. On the side, he spots eight blue pens and pencils attached together with a white elastic band.
"I've heard from Robin that you have a tendency to lose your pens," Steve intones with a chuckle, blushing as insecurity creeps in. What if Eddie pushes him away like he has for the past week?
Eddie's mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to say to Steve. His heart slams against his sternum, nearly dizzying him. After a mere second, his lips curl into the brightest grin, wide enough for his big eyes to disappear behind his lashes.
"You did that… for me?" he giggles shyly, feeling tears stinging the corner of his eye.
"Of course," Steve smiles back, relieved by his reaction. "I remember you telling me that these were your favorites, so I bought a bunch. I've got some extra stock in my car as well, for when you come back."
Bypassing the table to find him, Steve pulls Eddie into a hug, deciding to ignore his promise to himself to avoid showing him any ambiguous signs of affection. The memory of the book under the pillow flashes across his mind, but he suppresses it.
Of course Eddie's confused, but it's an important day for him and Steve wants to support him and ease the nerves he knows have been on edge.
The senior wraps his arms tightly around his friend, taking in his perfume he's grown to love so much. He bends his pelvis in an uncomfortable way to prevent their chests from touching. Not that he would mind, but he fears that Steve will feel his wild heartbeat if he does.
He smiles into his shoulder, feeling his friend resting his head against his. He could spend hours this way, his nose nuzzled against Steve's shoulder or neck. In the midst of stress, there's nothing else he can think of as more comfortable.
Pulling away with reluctance, the two young men gaze into each other's eyes with a grin. Steve's hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"Good luck for your exams," he whispers. "You're going to nail them. Make 1986 your year."
"It will be," Eddie snorts. "Thanks, Steve. For the support, everything."
"That's what friends are for."
Eddie nods, trying not to take offense at the word. Still intoxicated by their embrace, he can't find the strength nor the will to even be hurt by it. Steve thought about him and made him something special, something he didn't have to do in the first place. And that launches him right to cloud nine.
"I have to go," he sighs.
"Yeah. Good luck again, Eddie. I'll be waiting here for you, in case you need to share victory snacks… or break stuff."
"Sounds perfect. See ya!"
Steve waves at him as he makes his way towards Hawkins High, trotting when he hears the first bell ring. Unable to erase the smile on his face after the interaction, he sits down on the chair and takes a bite into his cold toast, shaking with joy.
In the hall towards the classroom where he must take his first exam, Eddie finds Robin and Vickie, chatting away as they lean against the wall, their hands chastely buried in their pockets. When they see him, they scoot over to welcome him.
"Morning, Eddie," Vickie greets him first. "You look surprisingly jolly today!"
"Hi," he responds, showing them the bag with an unshakeable look of pride. "Steve gave me this for today. Full of my favorite stuff and pens in case I lose mine."
"How sweet!"
"Now that's handy," Robin scoffs, peeking into the gift. "How come he didn't bring me this?"
"Try having your house sucked into a gate to the Upside Down next time. Maybe it'll work."
She pulls her tongue out at him and presses both of her shoulders against the poster behind her, careful not to rip it. Eddie tucks the bag under his arm and sneaks Flit as a Fiddle out of his lunchbox, poking her with it. Her eyes drop onto the book and she hastens to put it away inside her bag, shoving it without care.
"Already done with it?" she asks with curiosity. "It took me longer to read it."
"I skipped the blue papers. I don't think it applies to me, to be honest," he answers before frowning. "The yellow ones don't either, to be honest."
"Oh?" the two girls exclaim in unison.
He chuckles and buries his hand in his pocket, making sure that the teacher wasn't in sight yet, taking advantage of the hubbub to carry on.
"Yeah, I feel like it's really restrictive. Like a box I have to put myself in."
"You're the one who decides," Vickie smiles, hooking her arm with his. "Nobody has the right to tell you where you belong."
"I know," he smiles. "Actually, I don't think I have criteria, really. I feel like I fall for the person before I pay attention to what they are. I don't know… I don't want to bother about it for now. Couldn't even find anything fitting in the book."
"I don't know if there's a word for it," Robin frowns. "But I know someone like you. There must be thousands of others out there."
"Probably. It's nice to know that I'm not a freak by this book's standards, then."
"Nah. Maybe in the next edition, there will be a term for it. Who knows?"
"Exactly!" Vickie adds. "In the meantime, you're not alone. We're here if you need to vent."
He nods with a grin and whips his head around as the teacher unlocks the door, huffing and puffing from running late. One by one, the students enter the room like cattle into the slaughterhouse. Eddie walks in and finds his name taped to one of the tables. While settling down there, he takes the water bottle and a bag of Skittles out of the bag, finding a small piece of paper stuck between his knuckles.
With a frown, Eddie examines it, immediately recognizing Steve's handwriting.
"Whatever happens, I'm proud of you for how much you've improved and everything you've achieved. Good luck with your exams and your SATs. 1986 is your year, baby! From Steve 'Dingus' H."
The palm of his hand rubs his eyelids as tears well up in his eyes. He presses it against them, recovering the smile his friend gave him earlier. Behind him, Vickie cranes her neck to read the note in silence, biting on her bottom lip as she muffles a squeal.
Eddie slips the note into the pocket of his jacket, keeping it over his heart as he picks his pen up and sits down, awaiting the much-dreaded exam to start. He's done it all before, nothing can surprise him anymore. Yet, it's different. He feels like a new person, oddly freshened up after all the ordeals he's had to face.
And madly in love.
The day passes quietly at the shelter for Steve, trying to occupy his mind with tasks thrown at him by Rosie and later, Linda. Going out only to pick up a new stock of bread and drinks for dinner and driving via a fast food restaurant, he doesn't even throw a look outside to check if the students are coming out of their exams. Instead he spends his time vacuuming, mopping, helping the janitor with the disposing of trash, picking up litter around the cots and finding excuses to find himself near Eddie's.
From time to time, he peeks at his striped shirt sticking out from under the pillow. He doesn't have the heart to ask Eddie to give it back to him. Frankly, he felt funny whenever he saw him wearing it to class or even waking up. Although it clashes with his usual style, the shirt suits him much better than it does him. And he doesn't mind in the slightest.
When the last bell rings from the high school, announcing the end of the exams for the day, Steve drops what he's doing and sits back at his table, upon which still sit some of the gift bags. He waits there with excitement washing over him, manifesting through a knot tightening in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Eddie coming back.
He's aware that he could already squeeze out through the crowd of panicked and relieved students to find Nancy and check up on her too, but for a reason he can't quite explain, he doesn't feel the need to do it. He knows that she will pass everything with at least a B+. No doubts about that.
Waiting for Eddie feels more important to him at that instant, knowing his struggles over the past two months.
As soon as the familiar figure enters the gym, Steve jumps onto his feet and runs up to his side, noticing the bags under his eyes and his gaunt features. With an affectionate gesture, he takes the lunchbox from Eddie's hand and wraps an arm around his shoulders, feeling him melt into his touch.
"How did it go?"
"Actually? Rather well. Better than last year for sure," Eddie replies with a faint smile as they walk together to his bed, sitting on top of the covers Steve made sure would be neatly made. "I'm still unsure about a few things I wrote but well… we'll see."
"I'm sure you did great," Steve whispers, patting him in the back. "Are you hungry? I got you something. Wayne told me he wouldn't make it back on time for dinner."
Eddie nods while his eyes follow Steve as he stands up and runs up to his backpack, leaning against the chair upon which his jacket rests. He picks it up and walks back to him with a grin, which he mirrors in an instant.
Steve plunges his hand inside the bag as he sits back down and hands him another paper bag, bearing some oil stains. Eddie smiles and takes it from him, finding a slightly cold burger with a portion of fries.
"You didn't have to do this, Steve."
"I know, but I wanted to."
He sighs and looks up at his friend. Guilt begins to gnaw at Eddie as it dawns upon him how distant and sometimes downright mean he's been to him. Steve only wanted to be a good friend without any bad intentions and he knows it. The doubts concerning his feelings for him shouldn't have stood in the way.
Eddie takes the fries out of the bag and tilts it towards Steve, shaking it as an invitation. His friend smiles from ear to ear, leaning back on a hand and picking one of the fries with the other.
"I'm sorry, they got a bit cold," he chuckles.
"That's okay. I'm just grateful you thought about me at all."
"Why wouldn't I?"
The metalhead sighs, shoving a fry into his mouth.
"I've been a shitty friend. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You've had a lot on your mind and I was a bit clingy. Sorry."
"I like it when you're clingy sometimes," Eddie smiles, staring down at his exposed knees through his jeans to hide his blushing. "It makes me feel supported. I'm just… not used to that, I guess."
"And I'm here to make it a habit."
In spite of his belief that his heart could not beat any faster, it outdoes itself. A sensation similar to this of being on a rollercoaster rises and drops in his throat. He keeps munching on his fry, praying that he won't start to vomit it on Steve's neat pair of Nike Cortez.
Without him noticing, Steve gazes at him, admiring the lines of his face and the shape of his nose and mouth. He doesn't see the bolting pulse twitching under his square jaw, nor the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. And maybe it's better this way, his friend thinks, terrified of doing a wrong move or saying hurtful things.
Eddie sighs, dropping the bag with the burger next to him and leaning back on the cot, bringing his hand close enough to Steve's that he can sense the warmth emanating from it. Yet he doesn't pull it away.
"So, what have you been up to?" he asks, handing him the fries again.
"Not much, to be honest," Steve replies with his usual eyebrow raise and pout. "Working, volunteering… You basically telling me to fuck off."
Both chuckle at the remark, sharing the rest of the food.
"Are your parents back?"
"Yeah. It sucks."
"Why?"
"We got into a big fight when they came back. Right before I came to pick you up at Vickie's. You saved me from it, really."
With a frown, Eddie picks up the burger, his heart straining at the thought of not feeling Steve's hand close to him anymore.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I told them that I didn't…"
Words choke in his throat as he tries to tell Eddie about moving to Boston. As he stares into his brown eyes, he feels the strength draining from him. He doesn't want to keep secrets from him, yet the sounds don't come out of his throat, unsettled by the concern on his face.
Why can't he bring himself to say it? How hard can it be?
Eddie snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, bringing him back to reality.
"Hey, hello? Steve? Wake up!"
Swallowing his spit, he shrugs and grins.
"I told them that I still don't know what to do next year. They were pissed."
"Damn, I thought Vecna got to you for a moment!"
Steve smiles despite wanting to smack himself in the face, unable to bear his own lie. Eddie's face relaxes, having expected much worse news for him to pause in such a dramatic fashion.
"But that's okay," he says, intending to be comforting while he's never been great at it. "I'm talking about graduating this year and all, but I don't even have a plan. I signed up for the SATs with drug money and I didn't even apply for college anywhere. It's just out of my league, even community college. Plus, I'm not sporty enough to get a scholarship. Maybe you could've tutored me for that."
His friend chuckles with his head down.
"That would've been hilarious."
"Are you saying that you would've jubilated to see me struggle?" Eddie snorts.
"No, not at all. Definitely not. But I think we would've enjoyed ourselves."
"For sure."
Eddie's fingers push the last piece of his burger into his mouth while his teeth chew on it, producing a disgusting sound grossing them both out. Stretching his legs out with his elbows on each thigh, Steve observes the gym and the students coming back from the dreaded finals, sitting at the homework tables to study for the next round.
"You're taking the SATs, you said?" he asks absent-mindedly.
"Yeah. I actually have to go study. I've got the math exam tomorrow. But believe me, I wish I could stay and chat with you longer."
"I can help you study if you want, I've got nothing to do. I actually validated it with a B."
"That should be good enough for me! Vickie tutored me, but with all the stress, I'm starting to forget all about it."
"Well, let's get to it. We can combine the Vickie and the Nancy methods and make them our own."
Eddie gathers the box of the burgers and the fries, shoving them into the paper bag and rubbing his hands clean. They both stand up and walk towards the nearest trash can to throw it away. As the crowd of parents begins to enter the shelter after their day at work, the quietness dissolves, replaced by the buzz of a hubbub.
Steve nods towards the exit and they leave together, heading towards the picnic table in the woods, remote from the commotion and the next one coming. They sit shoulder to shoulder, with Eddie taking out his books and sheets of paper to scribble on. Flipping through the pages, they find exercises to practice with, solving equations and problems together, following what they remember of Vickie, Nancy and Mrs. Alvarez's teachings.
In the midst of their revisions, they snack on the chocolate bars Steve went to get from his car, fueling up for the next questions and brain-twisters. Every so often, they look up to laugh at the stupid mistakes they make, or at puns they throw into their conversations. Pressing their foreheads against the dusty woods, their bodies twitching as they chuckle, they forget about the outside world, to a point where Eddie even forgets why he's studying in the first place.
He even forgets to think about Chrissy, the fear of finding himself sitting where she did having vanished from his mind. Instead, he enjoys every second of being reunited with Steve, free of all worries and doubts. While he still has a lot to figure out, he knows where he stands. He knows that he's in love with Steve Harrington. And he doesn't let it get in the way of their friendship. He won't let it happen again.
After revising three whole chapters, they both sigh and take a break, watching the sun lowering in the sky, filtered by the branches. Munching on a green Skittle, Eddie rests his cheek on his palm, staring ahead of him. Steve tears a bag of M&M's open, flicking a blue one into his mouth.
"So," he says, cutting through the silence, "what do you want to do next year? I know you said you didn't apply for college, but are you looking for a job or something?"
"Nah, not really. Wayne said he'll try to negotiate with his boss to let me work at the plant."
"Is that what you want?"
Eddie's pupils lower to the wooden planks of the tabletop and chuckles.
"No."
His fingers dive into the little red bag, his rings tugging at the edges as he fishes for another piece of candy.
"I never really took the time to think about it," he says with a shrug. "I've had ideas for sure, but nothing really concrete. But then, with Vecna and all, I just forgot to do it. And now I'm without prospects, I guess."
"Because you can't afford college?"
"I guess, yeah. That definitely has an impact on me refusing to think about doing anything. I'll just live the rest of my life as a factory worker."
Steve peeps into the yellow bag he's holding, looking for another blue chocolate-wrapped peanut. As he finds one at last, an idea pops into his head.
"What if I paid for it?"
"Huh?"
"Maybe not a big college, but at least community college. How much is the tuition? Like three thousand?"
"A bit more, but that's the idea, yeah," Eddie answers with a frown leaving a deep crease between his eyebrows. "Do you think I'm like a charity you can donate to or something?"
"What? No! I just thought that since I've been able to save money I'm not even using, I could at least put it to good use. Use it for something or someone I care about."
Eddie pouts and shakes his head, biting into a red Skittle.
"Nah. You're crazy? It's worth six months of salary! That's way too high, no way."
"You wouldn't even have to pay it back. I don't care about that."
"Listen, Steve, I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can't accept. You don't know what can happen tomorrow. You could lose everything and then, poof, you're left to starve because you paid the tuition of Eddie fucking Munson, who might even fuck it up. Nuh-uh. I don't want your blood on my hands."
Taken aback by his comment, Steve can't help but laugh. His instinct pushes him to run his fingers through Eddie's mane to tuck it behind his ear — he doesn't even know what Eddie's ears look like — but his brain stops him before he makes the slightest movement. Instead he just shrugs.
"Well, could you at least think about it? I know you know the value of money better than I do, but this wouldn't be a bother for me. I want you to be happy, Eddie."
"So do I," Eddie breaths out, before correcting himself with a chuckle and his eyes squeezed shut. "I mean, I want you to be happy too. Yeah."
Steve laughs again and throws one of the chocolates up in the air to catch it skilfully with his mouth. His friend challenges him to catch the whole bag that way and he starts throwing them without thinking with his mouth wide open. He doesn't even miss once.
But he does miss one detail. Eddie, admiring him lovingly, with slightly puckered lips curled up into a smile. Inside his chest, his heart races again until that's all he can hear. He gazes at him like there was nothing more beautiful in the entire world, nothing else worth considering.
Swallowing the last bit of peanut, Steve laughs and pumps his fist in the air with pride while Eddie applauds, his silver rings clinking against each other as he does. After a lengthy bow, Steve heaves a sigh, pressing his fist against his cheekbone.
"Hey, Eddie?"
"Mmh?"
The two young men stare into each other's eyes this time, both feeling butterflies in their bellies. Steve slips his hand onto Eddie's shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb despite the roughness of the denim vest and the embroidered patch on it.
"I missed you, man."
Eddie's smile widens, his lips baring his teeth.
"I missed you too, Steve 'Dingus' Harrington."