8. People Who Stay

Work had become something Eddie dreaded. Sure, he didn’t love waking up early for low-paying customer service, but when he got to spend time with Robin or Steve it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. However, now spending so many hours alone with Steve was tremendously tense. And not in a fun way.

It had been almost three weeks since Eddie saw Steve outside of work, that day at the diner. When he did have to see Steve at work, it was long, mostly silent hours. Eddie didn’t really know if it had been a conscious decision of his, honestly. They left the diner on good terms, but Eddie got into his own head about… well, about everything.

At first he’d say no, that he didn’t plan on not agreeing to things that involved Steve. It was just him making up vague excuses as to why he couldn’t come over for a movie night with Robin, or a day in the pool with the kids.

You just need a little distance, he had told himself. You’ll go to the next one. Every time Steve asked he had an excuse. He stopped responding as enthusiastically to things Steve would say, keeping replies short and simple. Stopped initiating conversation, dropped the playful teasing. He was never rude, but even Eddie could feel how uninvested he came off. But no matter how aware of it he was he couldn’t stop.

Steve still tried, but eventually he tried less. And when he did try, often it was as if he were scared of breaking Eddie. Like he was handling something fragile. Talking to someone he didn’t know. Eddie didn’t blame him, he knew he was pulling away out of nowhere. Still, the fucking knowing did nothing. The worst was seeing how dejected Steve looked. Eddie stopped being able to look him in the eyes.

Honestly, if he didn’t need the money and it wouldn’t get him fired, he’d call out from as many shifts with Steve as he could. The fact that it wasn’t even Steve’s fault only made the guilt twist deeper.

After clocking in he traded his jacket for his work smock, draping the jacket in its usual spot on the stool. Today was going to be an eight hour shift, and Steve was already doing the returns cart. “Hey,” he said. As much as Eddie closed himself off, Steve never stopped greeting him and saying goodbye. Even if Eddie was already halfway out the door.

“Hey,” Eddie mimicked, walking over to the side of the counter that had new movies. He began to sort them by genre so it would make shelving them faster. It was a relatively large shipment this time, which might be grueling in normal circumstances, but Eddie was thankful for the distraction.

About a quarter of the way through Eddie’s sorting, Steve came over and leaned on the other side of the counter with his arms. “So…” He started, Eddie glancing over at him but continuing to sort the movies. “I don’t know if you’re busy, but Vickie’s having Robin and I over tonight to watch Rocky Horror. Naturally, I figured I’d invite you,” he gave a smile, but it was one that felt foreign on Steve’s face. Meek. Meek didn’t suit Steve. Eddie couldn’t believe he’d found himself missing those arrogant, cocky smiles, but it was one of the things he’d longed to see most these past few weeks.

“I, uh…” Eddie wanted to go, of course. Tim Curry in a corset and fishnets was hard to pass up, but he still didn’t think it was wise for him to see more of Steve. “Can’t, unfortunately. Dinner with Wayne, one of his rare nights off.” A total lie, Wayne would actually be working late tonight.

“Right…” Steve said defeatedly, hanging his head a bit as he nodded. He looked over Eddie with wide, examining eyes. Eddie forced his focus to remain on the movies in front of him. “Just thought I’d ask.” Steve knocked his knuckles softly on the counter before pushing off, heading for the back room.

Once Steve disappeared behind the door, Eddie dropped the movie in his hands back into the pile in frustration. He let out a sigh as he rested his forehead on the counter, closing his eyes as he tried not to let the guilt consume him.

He knows he should just go. He knows he should just tell Steve why he needs space. But that would mean admitting… a lot. And every time he thought about what Steve might say, all he could remember was the rejection he felt last year.

It’s not that he thought Steve would be cruel, he knew he wouldn’t. But everything would change. The same tension that choked the Family Video store now, would remain. If not get exponentially worse, and eventually Eddie would be only Robin’s friend. Not Steve’s.

He had recovered last time because it was only one confusing week of high strung emotions; the main thought preoccupying his mind hadn’t even been Steve. Clamping down the feelings was nearly as easy as pinching the water flow of a hose.

These past few months, though, he’d gained so much insight into Steve. Saw so much he didn’t have the opportunity to see in all the chaos. In a lot of ways, he felt part of Steve took root in him. Having to rip that out was sure to cause damage, and Eddie didn’t think he had the constitution for it.

The hours passed arduously slow, Steve spending a lot of it in the back room, which Eddie was thankful for. When he did come back out, he had an impish smile on his face. Eddie, concerned about what he was up to but not wanting to encourage it with a question, dragged his eyes back down to the magazine he had been flipping through.

He watched Steve in his peripheral, however, pluck a movie from the rack and head over to the tv, popping in a tape. When the intro to Grease began, Eddie bit back a smirk.

Steve, a pleased smile on his face, continued to go around taking inventory, pausing every once in a while to watch a scene. Eddie noted he stopped to watch the entirety of the Summer Lovin’ scene before resuming his work. Eddie’s amusement must’ve shown on his face, because when Steve looked over, he smiled mischievously.

“Knew all I had to do was give you the chance to make fun of me for Grease,” he mused to himself as he wrote something down on his clipboard.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he took the bait. “Had to do it for… what?”

Steve looked back over at him, smug smirk still firmly in place. “Get you to smile,” he shrugged, returning once more to his clipboard. It felt like a spear through his chest, exploding warmth from the epicenter of where it pierced. Eddie shook his head, returning to his magazine, but unable to remove the small smile tugging his lips.

“Ya know,” Steve said, walking languidly down the aisle he was in. His eyes were on his work and not Eddie, giving the latter the opportunity to watch on more freely. “You can keep trying to ice me out, Munson.” He met Eddie’s eyes with complacency. “It’s not gonna work.” He let his gaze linger on Eddie for a second before getting back to writing.

“I’m not… icing you out,” Eddie said, but it felt weak even to him.

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, right. Wayne, who has never had a night in the middle of the week off in the entire year we’ve known each other, is suddenly home nearly every week for dinner,” he looked over with an unimpressed face. “And you’re suddenly the busiest drug dealer in Hawkins.” He turned back to the racks, writing down another title.

Eddie’s face fell, frustration with himself making his head feel garbled. “I’m not trying to ice you out.”

“Doesn’t matter either way,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Could hardly call myself one of your top five friends if I let ya.” He kept taking inventory, Eddie staring at his back in mild awe. But a thought in the back of his mind still reared its ugly head; You don’t deserve this.

He turned back to his magazine, chewing on his lip. When the scene with the T Birds in the auto shop came on, Eddie unashamedly turned his attention to the screen, leaning on the counter as he sat on the stool. There were few things more attractive than John Travolta in that scene, and he wasn’t gonna deny himself the viewing pleasure.

In his peripheral, he saw Steve glancing over at him in amusement as the guys talked around the car, but he ignored him. Seriously, he can’t put Travolta in all black and tight pants and expect the man not to stare.

He’d been successfully ignoring Steve until he came to stand in the middle of the large aisle that led to the checkout counter, a look on his face that showed he was up to no good. He stared Eddie down with a barely contained grin. Eddie looked at him in curious concern. “Harrington, why do you–”

But he was cut off by Steve saying “Systematic,” in time with Travolta, promptly popping his work smock halfway off on the beat, mimicking Danny Zuko with his leather jacket. Eddie’s eyes widened as he got an inkling of what was about to happen. No fuckin’ way this asshole’s gonna– “Hydromatic,” Steve ripped off the vest entirely, holding it in his hand.

“We do not need a musical–” Eddie began, but was once again cut off by a still widely smiling Steve.

“Ultramatic,” Steve threw his vest off to the side, where it now hung off one of the movie racks. Eddie covered his shocked smile with one hand, leaning back on his stool as he watched on with something that was a mix between horror and fascination. It was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. “Why, it’s Greased Lightnin’!”

Eddie’s mouth was falling open in a stunned scoff as Steve furthered the bit, knowing all the words as he began to dance in the same wiggly-hipped fashion as John Travolta. Eddie’s dismay, as it was frankly making it impossible not to grin like an fool, it was just as hot in tight blue jeans and a well fitted polo shirt.

Steve continued to dance, goofily but somehow pulling it off, as he sang along in an exaggeratedly deep voice. Then, fully dropping Eddie’s jaw to the floor with an amazed burst of laughter, as Danny ran up the car Steve box jumped fully onto the counter. “Steve!” Eddie scolded, looking around to confirm that no, no one was in the store.

But Steve just dropped into a squat similar to Danny’s, hand scanning the invisible horizon flatly as he sang “Go, Greased Lightnin’ you’re burning up the quarter mile.” This part of the dance he apparently knew to a T, but it was hard for Eddie to even focus on that as his position left him face-level with Steve’s crotch.

He knew he looked like a gaping idiot, staring at Steve with an amused, red face, but he couldn’t stop himself. Steve dropped his squat immediately into a sit, legs hanging over the counter in front of Eddie so close that the latter jerked back in fear of being hit. Eddie’s breaking point was Steve mimicking the seated hip wiggle practically in his face.

“Alright, alright!” He laughed, rubbing both hands hardily over his face. “Consider your spot at number five secured, Harrington. Just for the love of god, stop.”

Steve beamed at Eddie in satisfaction, but didn’t get down from his seat on the counter. Practically dangling above Eddie’s lap. His ankles could touch Eddie’s thighs if he moved his legs too much. “Does… that mean you’ll come watch Rocky Horror?” He looked down at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie sighed, his internal debate quickly becoming harder to hold as he looked into Steve’s hopeful eyes. “Look. I can’t come tonight, but the next thing you invite me to I’ll actually say yes. You and Robin can drag me there kicking and screaming if I try to say no.”

Steve clapped once in triumph, pointing at Eddie enthusiastically. “Verbal consent! Holdin’ it to ya, Munson,” with that he swung his legs back around the counter and hopped off, retrieving his work smock from where it landed and putting it back on.

Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he stood up to take his break, of which he usually spent smoking outside. “Using Travolta against me…” He glanced over at Steve as he shrugged on his jacket over his work smock. “You fight dirty, Harrington.” With a smirk, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “Dirty works on me.” Eddie exited the store, feeling Steve’s eyes on him the whole way out.

+++

It had been a week or so since Steve’s ridiculous song and dance, and surprisingly he hasn't cashed in on Eddie’s promise. Eddie thought he was going to a couple of days after, when their phone rang in the middle of the day and Wayne called him over to say Steve was on the line. Steve rarely called, and when he did it was to ask about something related to either work or the kids.

“What’s up, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” Steve answered dully on the other end. “Store’s dead and Colton called out at the last minute, so I’m stuck alone.”

“If you’re trying to get me to fill in I’m definitely counting that as my obligatory yes,” Eddie deadpanned.

“You’re not gettin’ out of it that easy, Munson,” Steve teased. “I’m just calling ‘cause I’m bored out of my mind. What are you up to?” Eddie’s chest tightened, immensely grateful that Steve couldn’t see the stupid grin that stretched his face.

That wasn’t the only time Steve called, either. A few days ago, Wayne was calling him back to the phone. This time he was sure Steve was inviting him to something.

“What, you alone again, Harrington?” Eddie teased, leaning against his wall.

“No, Robin’s here,” Steve said simply before raising his voice. “Robin! Say hi to Munson!”

Eddie heard a faint voice say “Hey, Eddie! Steve’s been debat–” Steve quickly cut her off, loudly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s enough! Thank you,” he sighed before returning to a reasonable volume, whatever Robin was going to say now silenced. “Anyway… Tell me you’re doing something more interesting than me.”

Eddie chuckled. “Definitely not interesting to you. I was in the middle of making a PC for Will’s D&D game… I’m afraid Wheeler might kill me if I don’t get it done by the end of the week.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Steve stated. “I’ve read through all your mags– twice! And I can only hear Robin,” he raised his voice a bit at this, as if pointedly calling out Robin, “talk about her sickeningly sweet relationship so much,” he started normally again, “before I go insane.”

“You heard it here first, folks,” Eddie smiled to himself. “Steve Harrington hates gay people.”

“Oh my god,” Steve sighed, but Eddie could hear his amusement. “Are you gonna tell me about your nerdy game, or am I gonna have to start round three of the drawer?” After laughing more at Steve’s expense, Eddie began to ramble about all the intricate parts of his character, and how they tied into the campaign Will was setting up.

He didn't finish making the PC that day, all Steve’s fault of course. So he was doing it now, and just as he thought he’d gotten the final part of his backstory down, he heard the phone ring in the living room.

“Hello?” He heard Wayne answer, muffled through his closed door. There was a pause before his uncle was yelling from the phone, “Eddie! It’s the Harrington boy again!”

Eddie had a smile on his face as he came to the phone, Wayne raising his eyebrows at him as he passed it over. Eddie mimicked him, Wayne stepping outside for a cigarette.

“Hello,” Eddie said.

“Think your uncle’s getting tired of me,” Steve’s comment earned a chuckle from Eddie.

“Don’t worry about him,” Eddie assured, still smiling. “Bored again?”

“Uh, no actually,” Steve said, piquing Eddie’s interest. “Finally have that invite for ya. I guess some of Vickie’s friends are throwing a costume party next weekend.”

“In June?” Eddie asked, but immediately followed it up with another question, “Wait are these the ex band kids?”

“Uh… I think so.”

“That explains it,” Eddie mused, more to himself than Steve. “Gay people love a theme.”

Steve breathed a laugh. “So that’s a yes?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” There was a small silence. Eddie’s brows furrowed. “Harrington?”

“I know we joked about it, but…” he trailed off momentarily, sounding uncertain. “If you’re… busy, again, it’s okay. Don’t come if you don’t want to.”

Eddie bit his lip and let his head thump against the wall, feeling like a total dick. “No, really. I wanna come.”

“You sure?” He could almost hear the smile growing on Steve’s face, which was contagious through the phone.

“Yes, Harrington, I’m sure,” he chuckled with an eye roll, even though Steve couldn’t see. “Think I already have a costume in mind, anyway.”

“And what would that be?” Something about the tone in Steve’s voice made a trill of excitement run up Eddie’s spine.

“Probably Frank-N-Furter,” he informed. “Have everything already, anyway.”

“Fishnets included?”

Eddie felt his face burn bright red, but he kept his confidence as he said, “Obviously. Who do you think I am? You saw how much I rented the movie.”

“Yeah, but you don’t see me with a leather jacket and tight black pants,” Steve chuckled.

“Which is honestly inconsiderate of you,” Eddie supplied before he could stop himself. His face fell and erupted into flames once more as he heard his words repeat in his head.

There was a silence, and Eddie was just about to backpedal when Steve finally responded, smirk audible even through the phone. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind, Munson. Guess I have something to make up for.”

Great, Eddie thought. You basically just doomed yourself to a night of Steve dressed like Danny Zuko. Like that’s gonna make your life easier.

“Shut up,” he muttered, no malice behind the words. “Look, I gotta go finish that thing for Will’s campaign. Wheeler literally biked to my trailer yesterday to tell me to hurry up.”

“Kid’s got it bad, doesn’t he?” Steve scoffed.

“Yeah, and I’m not looking to get murdered in the name of love.”

“Alright, alright. We’ll all sort out who’s driving later. Since apparently doing your nerd things is more important than talking to your fifth-best-friend,” Steve teased.

“Uhuh, don’t cry about it too hard, Stevie,” Eddie teased back. After Eddie hung up the phone he walked outside to smoke a cigarette of his own. Wayne was drinking a beer and smoking what was likely his second cigarette, sitting in a fold out lawn chair. Eddie took a seat in the empty one next to him, an ashtray perched on the arm of Wayne’s chair in between them.

“So,” Wayne said shortly, ashing his cigarette. He glanced at Eddie in that inspecting way he did, when he knew he was being nosy. “Steve’s been callin’ a lot.”

Eddie gave him his own side eye as he lit his cigarette, determined not to entertain Wayne’s playful suspicion if the man wouldn’t directly ask him. “Guess so. He was inviting me to a costume party next weekend.”

“Ain’t it a bit early for a Halloween party?” Wayne took a sip of his beer.

“It’s not for Halloween,” Eddie informed with a puff. “Just for fun.”

“Ya know,” Wayne cleared his throat. “You, uh, you weren’t hanging out with Steve as much these past few weeks…” Wayne fixed him with a scrutinizing look. “He didn’t do somethin’ to hurt you, did he? Did he pressure you?-- I’ve been askin’ more about him around town and I hear he’s somethin’ of a heartbreaker–”

“No– God, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie chuckled. “He didn’t do anything. I was just… needing some time to myself,” then, he looked at Wayne as he remembered the most important omission. “And we’re still just friends.”

Wayne had a smirk on his lips as he took a hit of his cigarette. “Okay,” he sounded unconvinced, but Eddie left it. “But if you ever stop bein’ just friends–”

Eddie interjected with an “Oh my god…” smiling sheepishly while running his free hand over his face. Wayne continued without missing a beat.

“He does anything to hurt you and he’s gonna have to answer to my double-barrels, alright?” He raised his eyebrows at Eddie.

Eddie scoffed, laughing as he raised his own eyebrows back. “He hurts me and you’ll shoot him?”

“Depends how bad he hurts ya,” Wayne shrugged matter of factly. “But I was talkin’ about these double-barrels,” Wayne flexed both of his arms like a bodybuilder, kissing his biceps.

Eddie grimaced. “That’s… the most disgusting thing you’ve ever done.” Wayne was chuckling, clearly amused with himself. They smoked in silence for a few minutes before Wayne finished his cigarette, the sun not far from setting.

“Right. Better get ready for work,” he sighed heavily as he stood up, pausing to look at Eddie. “You good for dinner?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Eddie assured.

Wayne nodded. “See ya, kid,” with a quick ruffle of Eddie’s hair, Wayne disappeared back into his trailer. Meanwhile, Eddie tried to visualize where all the things for his Frank-N-Furter costume were.

+++

Eddie had come to a decision. It was going to eat him alive if he didn’t tell Steve… something. Maybe he could downplay it, because truthfully, he was worried about how much he liked Steve. ‘Like’ wasn’t even a strong enough word, and he knew that, but the alternative was… a thought that brewed a treacherous amount of doubt in Eddie.

The ‘telling him’ part was enough to start with. He wasn’t even going to do it right now, deciding to wait until the end of a shift where he wouldn’t have to see Steve the next day. Despite this not being for a few more days, Eddie felt jittery as he drove home from work.

Even though he was on edge, he was also… hopeful? Eddie was definitely anticipating a polite rejection. However, the way Steve had been acting since Steve Harrington: The Musical, he couldn’t help but entertain the idea that there wouldn’t be a rejection at all.

Something about him had been more… direct? It wasn’t anything overtly different, but every tease or invasion of space was just a little bit further than usual. Of course, Eddie also considered Steve might just be happy his friend isn’t completely ignoring him anymore. In his mind, it could go either way.

All of this had him feeling good as he pulled into the driveway. Though, the cheerful smile on his face gave way to confusion. It was nearly nine, and Wayne was never home on the nights Eddie closed. Yet, his car was still in the driveway and the lights were on in the trailer.

Eddie cut the engine with a furrowed brow, becoming increasingly unsettled. The door was unlocked as he opened it with a sudden urgency. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as he saw Wayne on the couch. “Uncle Wayne,” he breathed, feeling his heart start to beat normally again. “What are you doing here?”

This is when he noticed the severity on his face. “Eddie, I think you should sit down a minute,” Wayne said gently. Eddie stiffened, the fear from moments before flooding back tenfold.

“What? Just tell me,” His voice was small with consternation.

Wayne seemed to steel himself into a resolve, letting out a quiet sigh. “Your mother just called me… You said the Carver boy was still giving you trouble?”

The crease between Eddie’s brows deepened, not seeing the connection between Jason and his mom. “Yeah, but not really since that day– Uncle Wayne, what’s going on?”

“Jason Carver has apparently threatened your parents… And your mother…” It was rare that Wayne got really, honestly mad. But he could see the anger boiling under his skin as he tried to speak calmly. “No longer feels safe having you legally associated with the family. They’re changing their last names and… And they’re disowning you, Eddie.” He spoke the last part so quietly, as if speaking such a thing was too cruel for the man to bear.

But Eddie heard it loud and clear. Everything seemed to sort of… zoom out. Like he could see himself, but not exactly. More like instead of controlling his limbs, he was controlling joysticks that controlled them. Everything a second delayed and detached.

His mouth had fallen open, he realized. He also realized he hadn’t said anything. He should probably say something. “Oh,” Eddie felt his mouth say, nearly a whisper.

“I’m sorry Eddie,” Wayne was up from the couch in an instant, wrapping him in a firm hug. Eddie just stood there for a second. When he felt a few tears roll down his cheek, Eddie embraced him back. As the tears flowed faster and faster, Eddie hugged tighter and tighter.

“It’s okay, son,” Wayne’s gritty, warbled voice comforted. He was patting Eddie’s back calmly, but at some point Eddie’s silent crying turned to choking, quiet sobs. “You’re never gonna be alone, Eddie,” he rasped. A sudden, louder sob racked Eddie’s body. “Not as long as I’m kickin’. I promise… I promise.”

But even Wayne couldn’t stop the world from imploding in on Eddie. “What did he even do to them?” He croaked out as he broke the embrace, desperate for some kind of answer. “Why didn’t they just go to the cops?”

“You know boys like Carver… they don’t gotta play by the same rules we do,” Wayne gruffed. “He’s got money, and that’s all you need to silence people. Or to get people to silence people. He was calling you all sorts of terrible things, the main one being a murderer.” Eddie squeezed his eyes, a few tears streaming down his face as he brought a shaky hand to his mouth. This was happening. “I’m sorry, son. If I didn’t want to look after you I’d risk a charge on that vile sonuvabitch. Been thinkin’ about giving your parents both a slap, too.”

Your parents, it echoed in his head, distorted and unfamiliar. The room because suffocatingly smaller, and he realized he needed to be out. Out of this trailer, where that spot currently loomed directly over him.

“I–I gotta go,” he blustered, concern crossing over Wayne’s face.

“Eddie, I don’t th–” but Eddie cut him off.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne, I’m just gonna go out for a bit,” He turned over his shoulder as he frantically made his way out the door, adding a shaky “Don’t wait for me, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response either, closing the door and getting into his van. Wayne opened the door right after him, watching on with a pained expression as Eddie pulled out of the driveway.