#I wrote like half of the actual sex scene preceding this and then got writer's block and skipped ahead

[laundrybiscuits]

(come alive in the neon light tag | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6)

“It’s called folie à deux,” says Robin. “Madness shared by two. That’s your genius plan to make Eddie your boyfriend: inducing a psychiatric condition.” 

“I’m playing it safe.” Steve frowns. “I still don’t even know if he’s gay or whatever.”

“Oh, what the shit, obviously Eddie is gay, dingus.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but—” she hesitates. “Well, everyone knows. It’s obvious. Everyone talked about it at school.”

Steve starts flipping through a pile of magazines by Robin's nightstand, just to have something to do with his hands. “Everyone talked about Jonathan Byers, too. I talked about Jonathan, and then he stole my girlfriend.” 

“Right, but, as far as I know, you did not have sex with Jonathan Byers. I think the fact that you’ve been hooking up with Eddie is a pretty strong indication of homosexual tendencies. Wait, why have you been hooking up with Eddie if you thought he was straight?”

“Well, I figured it was worth a shot. Straight guys mess around sometimes, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Robin stares at him. “That’s the single most unhinged thing I’ve ever heard. God, I hate men.” 

“I’m just saying, we can’t rule anything out!”

“Okay, but you’re hoping it means something, right? That’s the goal here? How’d dinner go?”

It had gone pretty good, Steve thought. He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like any date he’d ever been on before. 

Normally, he’d take a girl out to dinner and just try to get her talking. Get her laughing, try to charm her. They both know that if she’s smiling enough by dessert, she’s going to be slipping him a little tongue in the car at the end of the night; depending on the girl, they might be doing a lot more than kissing. 

It’s a tried-and-true method. It’s how he does things, and he’s pretty damn good at it. But taking Eddie to dinner had felt like having to learn a whole new language. For one thing, Eddie hadn’t known it was a date. For another, it hadn’t been any kind of warm-up to something, because they’d already left Eddie’s sheets in ruins. 

The part that got to Steve the most, though, was how he didn’t know what the right way to act was. The place they’d gone to wasn’t even that fancy or anything, just a burger joint, because Steve might be new to this but he knows how it looks when two guys go to a restaurant with tablecloths and silverware. Between the formica tabletops and the flimsy plastic basket of fries, the atmosphere hadn’t exactly been date-like. And during the dinner, Steve hadn’t gone to any of his usual patterns of do-you-have-siblings and what-kind-of-music-do-you-like because he already knows that stuff. 

He knows a hell of a lot more than that. He knows what Eddie looks like when he’s scared out of his mind; he knows what Eddie’s willing to do to protect the people he cares about. He knows Eddie, so he doesn’t have to ask.

It’s not like they hadn’t had stuff to talk about. It’s always just easy to talk to Eddie. He’s funny and clever, way smarter than Steve, but he never makes Steve feel stupid. Or, well, not in a bad way. Just the way where sometimes he smiles and scrunches up his nose a little, and Steve stops being able to talk for a second. 

So sure, they have stuff to talk about. Movies, the kids, any dumb thing that goes through their heads. At one point, Steve had had to grab Eddie to stop him from standing on the booth and delivering a little speech about dueling, which for some reason he has very strong feelings about.

Steve’s worried that he hadn’t been showcasing his boyfriend skills enough, though. He’s been trying to be a little flirtier, but it’s like he’s fighting with one hand tied behind his back. Every time he’d almost reached out to touch Eddie’s hair, maybe play with his fingers, he’d remembered: right, we’re in public. 

It’s not like any dating he’s ever done in the past. It’s difficult and complicated, and he can’t even complain about it to Robin without being an ass, because it's not like she's got other options. 

What he’d say to her, if he could, is that maybe it would just be easier to stop trying. Find a girlfriend. Do things the way he knows how, the way there’s rules for. 

He could even just stop trying for more with Eddie, and go along with what they’ve got now. He could have Eddie as a friend, his best friend other than Robin, and still have Eddie cursing and beautiful in his bed. It’s possible. 

But Steve thinks about the way Eddie slipped off the booth and collapsed into Steve’s side for a moment, cackling like a maniac, with a little bit of ketchup on his cheek.

Yeah, there’s no way Steve’s giving up yet.