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estrellami-1 · 24 days ago

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Keep Me (And I’ll Keep You)

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Eddie hums contentedly as he sits on the couch, beer in hand. The couch is cotton, a soft brown that matches the rest of the living room. It’s one of those fancy sectionals that, up until knowing Steve, Eddie had only seen in catalogs. It’s a comfy couch, and he hums again as he settles in, wiggling his butt and shoulders, doing his best to let the couch envelop him.

Steve, to his left, snorts as he sits down. “Looks like you’re trying to become one with the couch.”

“Hey, it’s comfortable,” Eddie says, giving an aborted shrug and leaning his head back.

Steve chuckles, then sobers. “Y’know, sometimes I think when I move out, what’s the one thing I’m gonna miss the most? What’s the one thing I want to bring with me? And nine times out of ten, it’s this couch.”

“What’s the other one?”

“The microwave.” Eddie snickers. “Hey, you laugh, but those things are expensive!” Steve defends himself, also laughing. He’s got one knee up on the couch, turned to face Eddie, leaning sideways against the back of the couch.

A shout startles them both, and Eddie whips his head around to the dining room, where the Party is gathered. Will is DM today, after a long brainstorming session with Eddie. He’d brought the kids here and is available in case Will gets stuck, but Eddie silently thinks Will downplays his abilities. He’s a damn good DM, especially for his age, and Eddie was actively considering joining in.

Ultimately he decided to let the kids have this one. Erica, no doubt, would’ve joked (at least, he thinks it’s a joke) about Eddie cramping their style.

So here he is, relaxing on the couch with the man of the house, who’s relaxing now that he knows there’s no actual danger, only imagined.

Steve sighs, leaning forward to put his beer on the coffee table. “One of these days I’m gonna wake up and find a grey hair, and I’m gonna know it came from them.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, man, you think that’s bad,” he jokes, and continues on to tell a story about something the kids had done involving Dustin’s second cat, a balloon, and a car tire. He leans forward to put his beer down, too, and when he leans back again Steve slides forward, head coming to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

And here’s the deal, right? They don’t do that. They don’t casual touch like that. Eddie does, with most anybody, but Steve is in a class of his own, one that Eddie knows not to mess with for his own heart’s sake.

Said heart rabbits in his chest as he freezes, words drying up. He slowly looks over at Steve and sees closed eyes and open mouth. “Oh,” he whispers, cataloging the soft wisp of eyelashes resting on cheeks, the crinkle on his nose, scrunching up his moles, the lips slightly parted, driving damp puffs of breath to land on Eddie’s arm.

The next thing Eddie notices is Steve’s neck is at a weird angle. If he were to guess, he’d say Steve hadn’t been sleeping very well, and waking him is the last thing he wants to do. He tries to shimmy down the couch a little, to relax Steve’s neck some, but Steve’s upper body moves with his head, and now Eddie thinks the crick in his neck is more severe. “Fuck,” he mutters, shimmying down more, because surely it’ll work this time.

Something happens. He doesn’t know what, exactly, just knows that as he shimmies down Steve’s head slides down his shoulder, down his chest, to land on his stomach.

Steve murmurs something and shifts, turning his face into Eddie’s stomach as he stretches out, still asleep.

Butterflies awaken with a vengeance.

Shifting down his body means Eddie’s arm is free. He lifts it up nonsensically, as if not touching Steve of his own will is better than whatever the fuck is happening, but he can only hold his arm up for so long, so he eventually, gently rests it over Steve’s back and side. “What the fuck,” he mouths to himself.

It’s quiet and comfortable, though, the low murmur of voices in the other room doing nothing to keep Eddie awake, so it’s not long before he begins to drift off, too.

Sue him, he hasn’t been sleeping all that well, either.

He opens his eyes to Will walking into the room before seeing them and freezing. Eddie forces himself more awake, blinking rapidly until some of the fog lifts. He gestures Will closer with the hand not on Steve, and Will shakes his head, smiling. “We’re done,” he whispers. “I’ll call Jonathan.”

The words take a minute to make sense in Eddie’s brain. When they do, he shoots Will a thumbs up.

Will leaves, and Eddie succumbs to the siren call of sleep once more.

When he wakes up, he’s alone.

It’s morning, he can tell by the light in the room, natural now instead of artificial. His back is screaming at him, and his neck isn’t too happy either, so he takes his time sitting up and stretching, imagining the jokes Wayne would throw his way.

“Oh,” someone says, and Eddie looks over to see Steve, pink-cheeked, holding two mugs of coffee.

He seems to make a decision and crosses over to the couch, handing Eddie one of the mugs. It’s blue-and-white checkered, like Dorothy’s dress in The Wizard of Oz, and something about it makes Eddie smile even before Steve says, “Here. Enough sugar to give a bull a heart attack.”

Eddie takes a sip and hums gratefully. “Thanks, man.”

“I, uh. Think that’s my line.” Steve’s cheeks are even pinker now, and he’s studiously not looking at Eddie. “And sorry. For falling asleep on you.”

There’s about a million things Eddie wants to say that he bites his tongue on. Ends up with, “Actually, I slept really well last night.”

Steve’s cheeks are still pink, but he at least glances at Eddie when he says, “Yeah. Me too.”

In for a penny, in for a pound, Eddie thinks. “I haven’t been sleeping super well, actually. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I do.”

It’s silent for a second, long enough that Eddie begins to inanely suggest, “Maybe we could-”

At the same time, Steve starts, “What if we-”

They break off at the same time, blinking at each other before laughing. “You first,” Eddie says.

Steve’s cheeks burn again. “What if we did it again?”

Eddie grins. “I was gonna say maybe we could do it again,” he admits.

Steve giggles, and Eddie has to work to not stare at him with actual hearts in his eyes.

“Not every night,” Eddie hazards. God knows he wants to do it every night. God also knows it’s the fastest way to break his own heart.

“No, of course not. Just- when it gets bad?”

It’s bad every night, Eddie swallows, chokes on. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

“And- we’ll just call each other, I guess.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “You- you’re welcome to call whenever. Day or night. Doesn’t matter.”

“Same for you.”

“What about Wayne?”

“Works nights. And I’m home during the day. If I’m not, I’m with you guys. No chance of waking him up.”

Steve snickers. “Unless you sleep through the phone ringing.”

Eddie snorts. “Fat chance. Every little sound wakes me up, now.”

Steve really looks at him. “Yeah,” he finally murmurs. “I know how that is.”

They finish their coffee, Eddie leaves, and Steve heads into work.

That night, four seconds before Eddie gets up to call Steve, the phone rings.

He bolts down the hall, grabs it so hard he hears the plastic casing creak. “Hello?”

“Eddie.” Steve sounds… small. Relieved, like he wasn’t sure Eddie would answer. “Thought-” Eddie can hear the crease between his brows. “Dream, I guess.” He sniffs, clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“No, hey,” Eddie tells him, “that’s why we’re doing this, you don’t need to say sorry. D’you wanna stay on the phone for a few more minutes? Or can I go for, like, ten minutes?” Usually the drive to Steve’s house is more like fifteen, he knows, but like hell is he following the speed limits when they’re both feeling like this.

“No,” Steve murmurs. “I can- I can go, sorry, you should- you were asleep, I bet-”

“Nope,” Eddie tells him cheerfully. “I wasn’t asleep and I actually was about to call you. I’m gonna hang up so I can drive over, Steve. Are you at a place where you’ll be okay if I hang up?”

Steve hums. “Think so.”

“I’m not getting off until that’s a yes.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “No, it’s- ‘m fine, sorry, you can- if you wanna go-”

“Steve. You’re kinda proving that you’re not okay right now.”

“Oh.”

Eddie huffs out an approximation of a laugh. “Yeah. Think you can take some deep breaths for me?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll do it with you, ready?” He coaches Steve through a breath, then through three more, until Steve’s able to inhale without it sticking. “Good. How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Steve admits. “You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to.”

“Stevie, baby, I don’t have to do anything.”

He’s grinning, hamming it up for Steve, and can hear the smile in return, the little huff that means a laugh. “But you’re coming over? Because you want to?”

“Ding ding ding, that is correct!” Steve giggles. When it dies down, Eddie quietly says, “I’ll see you in ten, okay?”

“Fifteen,” Steve counters, “don’t speed.”

“Five,” Eddie says nonsensically.

Steve giggles as he says, “You’re already here?”

“I’m already in your bed, are you kiddin’ me? I got there half an hour ago.”

Steve laughs again. When he sobers, he says, “Fifteen. I’ll unlock the door in thirteen, not a minute sooner.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Eddie says, “seven,” and hangs up to Steve’s laughter.

He’s smiling as he pulls shoes on and grabs his keys and wallet. He’s out the door in two minutes, locking it behind him and hopping into his van.

He makes it to Steve’s in twelve minutes, hoping the door’s unlocked so he can walk in.

Steve opens it before he can even get there. “What happened to fifteen?”

Eddie shrugs, smiles. “You know me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he moves to let Eddie in. “Unfortunately I do.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, affronted, “what’s that mean,” and pulls Steve into a hug before he can say anything.

Steve stiffens for a second, not expecting the hug, but then relaxes into it so quickly Eddie’s almost sure he imagines the stiffness. “Thanks for coming,” he whispers.

“Thanks for calling,” Eddie whispers back, pulling away with a smile. “Bed? Or not yet?”

“Bed,” Steve agrees, leading him upstairs before stopping halfway. “Or- would you prefer the couch?”

“Why the hell would I prefer a couch over a bed,” Eddie demands, nudging Steve to keep him moving. His words are soft, though, as he says, “Wherever you want.”

“Bed,” Steve agrees, just as softly.

They climb in then stare at each other. “How do you wanna do this?” Steve asks him.

“However you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll take too much,” he whispers.

Eddie thinks, privately, Steve’s more fucked up than anyone knows. “Not if I’m willing to give you everything,” Eddie swears, heart in his throat and on the line. “C’mon. You called me. Help me learn how to help you.”

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“It won’t be,” Eddie swears, “but yeah. I’ll tell you.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. Eddie does his best to keep his expression open and willing. He’s not sure how he’s doing, but it must be good enough for Steve, because he burrows in, tucking his face into Eddie’s chest, throwing an arm over Eddie’s waist and relaxing.

Eddie responds in kind, laying an arm over Steve’s, around his back, and pulling him in that little bit closer. “Sleep,” he whispers, even as he succumbs and his eyes close.

When he awakens in the morning, it’s still dark, but Steve’s getting up. He makes a questioning noise, reaching out for him.

Steve squeezes his hand before placing it down again. “Just going to the bathroom,” he whispers. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, Steve’s back in bed, curled up against him, breath whiffling across Eddie’s chest.

Something in his chest cracks open as he lets himself study Steve. There’s a slight furrow in his brow, like even in sleep he’s still holding onto stress. Eddie wants to hold him by the ankles and shake him until all the bad thoughts come out and only the good remain. A sigh escapes his mouth at the thought, wisping over Steve’s face, and it’s apparently enough to wake him. Eddie watches as Steve’s face scrunches and his feet kick out in a stretch. He rolls over closer to Eddie, putting his face in Eddie’s chest, then freezes and pulls back, looking up at Eddie with a confused frown that quickly turns into a shy smile. “Morning,” he murmurs.

“Morning,” Eddie responds.

“Y’wake?” Steve asks nonsensically, but Eddie understands: is he really up, or is he going back to sleep.

Eddie shrugs in response. Steve nods, rolling back over into Eddie’s chest and sighing.

The thing in Eddie’s chest cracks more.

He wraps his arm around Steve again. He feels it, the moment Steve falls asleep, all tension leeching from his body.

He’s warm and solid, breathing evenly, and Eddie’s eyes don’t want to open, go longer and longer between blinks.

He falls asleep.

When he wakes up again—the third and final time—Steve’s out of bed, and the sheets are cool to the touch. “What,” he mutters, brows furrowed, palm on the sheets next to him. The area is slowly warming up, from his body heat, but they were definitely cold.

He sits up, stretches, scratches his head, and makes his way downstairs to look for Steve.

He can smell coffee and pancakes halfway down. The thing in his chest is wide open, hungry, hurting.

Hunting.

He thinks, stuck halfway down the stairs, he needs to stay away from Steve.

He has no idea how he’s going to do that.

He finishes his walk and finds himself in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the wall, watching Steve cook.

He flips a pancake, shimmies his hips when the pancake is perfectly brown, and slides it off onto a stack next to him. He pours more batter in and turns to get some coffee, freezing for a second when he sees Eddie. “Hey, you’re up! How’d you sleep?”

Eddie nods, watching Steve walk over to the coffee pot and grab two mugs. “Pancakes are almost done, coffee’s here, sugar’s here-” he points, “-and milk’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”

“Um,” Eddie says, and heads toward the coffee.

Steve grins. “Not a morning person? I can tone it down if you need me to.”

Eddie waves him off, doctors his coffee, and takes a long sip, humming at the taste and warmth. “You’re fine,” he finally says. “I just need, like, five minutes for my brain to go oh, we’re awake, I should work.” He adopts a funny voice for his brain, smirking when Steve laughs.

“Fair enough. Any plans for the day?”

Eddie hums as he thinks through his schedule. “Band practice with the guys tonight, and…” he doesn’t have any plans with Wayne, but he knows he needs to talk this through, so, “Wayne wants my help with… something. I dunno.”

Steve snorts. “Sounds exciting.”

“Oh, yeah, the height of excitement, I’m just gonna expire from anticipation.” He sends Steve a flat look, and Steve cackles as he flips another pancake.

“Well let me know if this super-exciting thing you’re doing needs another set of hands.”

“Will do,” Eddie says. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”

Steve shrugs. “I like cooking. Not much reason to when it’s just me, so I don’t usually do pancakes, but I do enjoy it.”

“Well,” Eddie says, leaning on the counter, “isn’t that reason enough?”

Steve stills for a moment, tilting his head. “Huh. I never thought of it that way.”

The thing in Eddie’s chest grumbles.

His stomach also grumbles, and Steve hears that, laughing as he retrieves a plate. “Here, take some, syrup is in the pantry and jelly is in the fridge.” He stacks a plate with four pancakes, thrusting it Eddie’s direction.

Eddie notices there’s only two on his plate, takes one from his pile and puts it on Steve’s. “Only if you eat too.”

Steve smiles at him, a small, real thing that makes the thing, the monster in his chest ache. “Okay.”

Eddie leaves soon after, quoting his thing with Wayne, makes sure Steve knows he can call if he needs someone.

Steve makes sure he knows the same.

The monster claws at his chest.

He covers the wince with a grin, waves on his way out, jumps into his van.

Turns the tape up until the drumbeat drowns out his thoughts.

He’s back to the trailer in fifteen. Wayne’s there, awake, facing the door when Eddie comes through. “Thought so,” he says, first thing. “You needta talk.”

Eddie collapses into a ball on the couch.

Wayne joins him, pulls him in, like he’s two instead of twenty, like a heart in danger of breaking is the same as a skinned knee. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to me. That’s what you do.”

“I really like him, Wayne.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s- he’s so nice, but he-”

He sniffles. Only realizes then that he’s crying. “Wayne,” he asks, “am I a good person?”

“You are.”

“Why’s the worst shit always happen to good people?”

Wayne sighs. “I wish I knew.”

“He’s better than me. And he’s had so much shit thrown his way. And I just- I wanna help but I dunno how when I see him like this.”

“You wanna take care of him.”

“Yeah.” Another sniffle. “But he doesn’t want that.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Didn’t need to. I can see it.”

Wayne hums. “Y’know when you first got here, you were scared of me? Not ‘cause I’m Al’s brother. Because of me. ‘Cause my face scared you. You thought I was always mad. Sometimes what you see isn’t how it is.”

“But how do I know?”

“You don’t. Not unless you talk to him.” He rubs a hand down Eddie’s spine. “How ‘bout that Birdie girl? She’s his best friend. She might be able to tell you more.”

“She won’t tell me anything.”

“My momma had a saying. Honesty begets honesty. Talk to her. Tell her the truth. She’ll tell you a truth right back.”

“…Today?”

“Better sooner ‘n later, but I guess it don’t gotta be today.”

Eddie sighs. “Today.” He picks at the knee of his sleep pants, worn with age. “How?”

“How do you talk to her?”

“Mhm.”

“Honesty, boy. ‘S about all y’got.”

Eddie sighs, leans into Wayne. Lets himself be held for a moment longer.

Wayne sighs, too. “Wanna watch that animal documentary?”

Eddie immediately perks up. “Really? You’ll watch it with me?”

Wayne smiles, nudges him off his lap. “Go put it in.”

Eddie grins as he races to do so, and the next two hours is lost to polar bears and orcas.

After it’s over, Wayne stands with a sigh and ruffles Eddie’s hair as he walks past. “Got work tonight. Y’mind bein’ quiet today?”

Eddie hums. “Imma go find Robin. Talk to her. Wish me luck.”

“Y��dont need it,” Wayne says, “but luck anyways.” He waves as he passes into his room.

Eddie grabs his car keys, looks down, and sets the keys back down before trudging to his room to change.

Soon enough he’s walking into Family Video. “Buckley!” He greets happily.

“Munson!” She parrots before her voice flattens. “The fuck you want.” Her eyes are sparkling, though, and the corners of her mouth are twitching up, so he pays no mind to her words. He drapes himself over the counter with a dramatic sigh. “You ‘lone?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we… talk?”

“This is starting to feel like a visit to the principal’s office.”

He pops his head up, eyes wide. “No, no, no! It’s not that at all! It’s me.” He lays his head back down with another sigh. “It’s… okay, so, let’s say, hypothetically, I… liked someone.”

“Steve, got it, go on.”

He puts an arm over his face. “And let’s say—still hypothetically—I did something, said something, that means we’re gonna be in close contact a lot more than before.”

“Okay. I’m following so far.”

He shrugs. “What do I do?”

“What’s the thing?”

“Y’know how he hosted Hellfire last time?”

“Sure.”

“Well I wasn’t playing, Will was DM and I was just there for guidance if he needed it, which he didn’t, kid’s a natural, but. Anyways. I was sitting with Steve in the living room, and we were talking, and I start telling him this story and… he falls asleep on my shoulder.” He groans. “And he looked so peaceful, I couldn’t disturb that, y’know?”

“Okay, I’m following so far.”

“Well turns out when there’s nothing to do but sit there, you end up falling asleep, too.” He clenches a hand in his hair. “We cuddled, Birdie. And then we told each other that we slept well, so I, like the absolute fool I am, said he can call me. If he wants. If he needs someone.”

“He called you last night.”

“He did. I dunno what to do, Robbie.”

“I’m not in the business of telling you what to do. But I can tell you if you told him, he wouldn’t react badly.”

“You’re sure?”

She lays her head down next to his, meeting his eyes. “I’d bet my life on it.”

“So… you think I should tell him?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Eddie.”

He groans and shuts his eyes. “This sucks.”

“Feelings usually do,” she nods, standing up and ruffling his hair. “But if I were you, I’d talk to him.”

Eddie makes a face. “Today?”

Robin shrugs. “Is there a better time?”

Eddie thinks it through. “Tomorrow,” he decides. He looks up at Robin. “If I don’t tell him tomorrow, can you tell him the day after?”

Robin raises her brows. “You want me to?”

“Yeah. Like… like incentive. Because if I know it’s gonna happen anyways, it’s better if I do it, right?”

Robin smiles. “I’ll tell him the day after tomorrow if you don’t.”

“Thanks.” He squeezes her hand, straightens up. Smiles. “I’ve gotta run. You’re a good friend, Buckley.”

She smiles, rolls her eyes. “Get outta here, Munson.”

His grin grows wider. “You’re a good friend, Buckley, I don’t know what I do without you!”

“Die, probably,” she deadpans, also grinning. She makes a shooing motion. “You said you’ve gotta run, so go!”

He laughs and runs out, waving over his shoulder.

He makes it to practice just as Gareth does, and not much practice happens that day, but is it really his fault that Jeff’s mom made lemonade and cookies for them?

He gets home that night, tired but happy, and watches a little TV before going to bed.

It’s a scary movie, not one he’s seen before, with a girl with long, dark hair, obscuring her face. She seems to grin right at Eddie and walks toward the camera. He laughs, because it doesn’t even look real.

Except suddenly it is. Suddenly she’s climbing through the screen, doing things he’s never seen a contortionist do, and heading straight for him. He scrambles over the couch and runs for his room, the girl close behind. He closes and locks the door, searching for his walkie. When he finds it, he depresses the button and yells, “Code red! I repeat, code red! Can anyone hear me?”

Only static greets him when he lets go of the button. His hand begins to shake.

“Code red,” he says again, quieter this time. “Please help, someone, please- it’s a code red, I’m serious!”

She rattles his doorknob, long fingers sneaking under his door, reaching and growing until they can almost reach the lock.

��Hello?” Someone calls out from inside the trailer.

Steve.

“Oh, holy shit-” he can hear Steve scramble back. “Eddie? Are you okay?”

“Uh,” Eddie says, “I’m alive?”

The fingers stop growing. In the blink of an eye, they’re gone. The girl hisses, and Steve whispers out another curse.

Eddie tiptoes to his door amid the sound of fighting. When everything goes quiet, he opens his door.

He can’t see anything at first. He silently walks out of his room, looking around, freezing at the sight of Steve on the ground, eyes open, mouth agape, and the girl crouching over him.

She’s hissing at Eddie, but he can’t even care about that right now, because Steve is looking directly at him, and he knows what it looks like when someone’s dead, and he-

Steve-

Eddie swallows bile, drops to his knees. “Steve?”

He never got the chance to say anything.

Only had one day to enjoy holding him.

He could’ve had longer, if he’d said something before now, if he’d made a move-

Or if not, at least Steve wouldn’t be here, dead-

He swallows a sob. The girl turns to him, still hissing, and slowly advances.

He closes his eyes. Waits for the inevitable. Sends a silent apology to his uncle.

Except… nothing happens.

He blinks his eyes open carefully, confused when he’s in his dark room. He sits up, looking around, grateful the moon is bright enough to light up his room enough for him to see.

He creeps out of bed, carefully opens his door, and looks around.

His eyes catch on the place he’d seen Steve dead, and it’s a dream, he knows it was, but he still feels-

He dials. Tries to keep breathing as the phone rings. “‘Lo?”

“Steve?”

“Eddie.” A yawn. “You alright, man?”

“Uh,” Eddie says, looking for the right words, but apparently Steve speaks Eddie.

“Am I going over there or are you coming over here?”

“N-no, you- you don’t have to-”

“Eddie. I don’t have to do anything. I’m doing this because I want to. Are you gonna be okay for fifteen minutes?”

“Define okay,” Eddie says, still unsure what words mean. What he’s saying.

“Okay, that’s a no. Eddie, I need you to take a couple of deep breaths for me, okay? I’ll do it too. Ready? We’re gonna breathe in… in… in… now hold it, two, three, four, now out… slowly… out… and hold. Two, three, four. Twice more, okay?”

He guides Eddie through the exercise, pausing when they finish. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Better,” Eddie agrees, sighing. “I’m sorry, man, you really don’t have to come over.”

Steve scoffs. “Unlock the door, Eddie, I’ll be there in fifteen, alright?”

“M’kay,” Eddie murmurs.

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Steve ends the call, and Eddie blinks as he puts the phone back on the hook. He moves to unlock the door then sits on the couch. He doesn’t look at the TV, doesn’t look at the spot on the floor where Steve-

He flinches, a full-body shudder, when the door opens. “Eddie?” Steve asks, locking eyes with him. “Hey, man, everything okay?”

He’s alive. He’s breathing, he’s moving, he’s-

Eddie reaches out for him, face shuddering, and Steve’s quick to respond, crossing the room in three long steps and throwing himself onto the couch next to Eddie, pulling him into a hug, and Eddie can breathe again.

“Fuck,” he mutters into Steve’s neck.

“Bad one, huh?”

He holds Steve tighter. “Dreamed… code red. No one answered. You- you came.” He swallows. “I saw-” he shakes his head, buries his face into Steve’s neck. “I know what it looks like when someone dies,” he whispers.

Steve stiffens, then relaxes and pulls Eddie even closer. “I’m so sorry.”

“I keep- seeing, you-”

“Hey.” Steve grabs his neck, makes him look at his face. “I’m right here, okay? Im right here. I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both here, and we’re both alive.” He grabs Eddie’s hand, puts it on his chest, over his heart. “Feel that? Feel my heartbeat?”

Eddie looks down at his hand. Feels the rising and falling of his chest from breathing. Feels the steady thump-thump of his heart. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m right here,” Steve promises, also whispering.

Eddie lets out a shaky sigh and rests his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah.”

Steve rubs his back for a few minutes, then pulls back a little to ask, “Wanna try and go back to bed?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Okay. How about TV?”

“No.” His fingers clench, digging into Steve’s chest, and Steve’s hand comes up to cover his, to smooth it back out, to calm him down.

“That’s okay. How about we get something to drink?”

Eddie sighs, takes one deep breath, lets it out. “I’m a shit host,” he jokes. “You want somethin’?”

“I was thinking tea for you,” Steve replies, smile evident in his voice. “How about it? A nice cuppa?”

Eddie snorts and pulls away. “Alright then, mate,” he jokes, affecting a British accent, then back to his normal voice. “Long as you’ll join me.”

“Always,” Steve promises, and the monster growls.

Steve makes the tea. He won’t let Eddie help, but doesn’t oppose to him sitting on the counter and watching.

After they’re finished, Eddie dumps the mugs in the sink with a mental promise to get to them tomorrow. “Okay,” he says around a yawn, “your tea worked. I’m tired.”

Steve smiles. “Bed?”

“Bed,” Eddie agrees, pushing the monster in his chest down and taping its mouth shut. He only hesitates a little when he sees his bed, but climbs in anyways, holding the covers up for Steve.

They get settled, and before he knows it, Eddie’s drifting off.

He wakes up to sunlight on his face. He groans and rolls over, snorting and pushing back when he runs into Steve, who had already been awake. “Morning,” Steve offers.

Eddie plops his head back down and resolutely shuts his eyes.

“Or not,” Steve agrees, amused.

He’s about to speak, to wake up more, when Steve shifts and puts a hand in his hair.

He melts.

He thinks his brain might be melting out of his ears, all his thoughts leaking with it, because suddenly his head is blissfully blank.

He falls asleep again.

He wakes up as Steve settles back in bed next to him, glancing up with bleary eyes. He’s got a steaming mug in one hand, glancing down at Eddie with a smile. “Morning?”

Eddie hums out something that isn’t a word in any language. He blinks, long and slow, but he’s up. He tilts his head away from the pillow to speak. “Wha’s-” he squints at the mug. “Coffee?”

Steve smiles, grabs a second mug from the nightstand, hands it over. “Enough sugar to knock out the Duracell bunny,” he teases, and Eddie’s hard pressed not to blurt out a love confession right here and now.

Except… why not, he thinks. He promised Robin he would. And sure, it doesn’t have to be right this second, but… when else would he do it? He knows himself, he’d just chicken out.

He sits up, accepts the mug. Hums at the sweet taste. Gulps down half of it in the hopes of it waking him up faster.

Steve snorts. “You’re not gonna run out, Eds, there’s more in the pot and we can always make more.”

Eddie smiles sheepishly at Steve. “‘M tryin’a wake up faster.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “You don’t have to be up just because I am, dude.”

Eddie shakes his head, leans against the wall. Can’t look at Steve when he says, “No, I, uh. Actually wanted to talk to you?”

He can see, in his periphery, Steve turning to look at him. “About what?”

He works his lip, takes another sip. “About…” he sighs. “About what we’re doing. About how I don’t think we should.” He ducks his head. “I- I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s fine, I swear, I can get over myself. But I can’t if we keep doing this. ‘Cause I’m, like… stupidly gone on you, man. And I can’t- I can’t keep doing this.” He shuts his eyes. “I could, I could make myself, I could try to tune it out, I could- I could break my own heart. Which is exactly why I can’t.” He doesn’t know when his voice lowered into a whisper, but it did, and the last word comes out scared and breathy.

Steve takes a shaky breath. “You… like me?”

Eddie breathes in. Breathes out. Nods.

Steve swallows audibly, turns to face him. “How?”

He’s whispering, too, and Eddie looks up at him. Looks into honey-brown eyes, full of muted hope. “How do I like you?” Steve nods, and Eddie blows out a breath. “I like you… in the way I always want to make you laugh. In the way I want to always be there for you when you’re sad, or scared, or need help. In the way I want to know every piece of you so well I know how you’re feeling before you do. I want to make you dinner, and pull you close on the couch when we’re watching a movie, and wake up every morning to your face. I want to take you to Enzo’s and play footsie under the table with you until we’re both laughing way too hard and the waitress is staring at us because she just wants us to order. I want to scream it from the rooftops, even though I know I can’t. I want to hold your hand and run my fingers through your hair.”

“You want to keep me,” Steve whispers.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah. I want to keep you. I want you to be mine the way I’ve been yours.”

“I am yours,” Steve murmurs. “I want you to keep me.” He watches Eddie for a second. “You want to kiss me?”

Edie looks up at him. Slowly nods.

“Then do it,” Steve whispers in a hiss, and Eddie does.

And he does thoroughly.

“Mine,” he whispers against Steve’s lips.

Steve pulls back, takes his mug, puts it on the nightstand with his own. Turns back to Eddie, grabs his hand, lays his head on Eddie’s chest. “Yours,” he whispers, smiling when Eddie puts his other hand in his hair.

They don’t fall asleep. It’s a close thing, but they don’t have time before Steve has to get up for work.

He hesitates in the doorway. “Tonight,” he murmurs, then falls silent.

Eddie smiles at him. “Come over?”

Steve brightens, nods. The monster in Eddie’s chest purrs, satisfied.