#can't get over the idea of them defeating that lasagna guy and just. saying goodbye before starting their lives. like they were supposed to

[queerdiazs]

The last night before everyone leaves Hawkins for good—Nancy and Jon to Boston for school and Eddie to California with Argyle to chase his dreams—is the first day of Steve’s future. 

Steve stays behind, doesn’t have the money to leave town just yet, but it’s fine because Robin’s going to wait for him to move to Chicago with her since she’s broke, too. Where one of them goes the other tends to follow and, really, there’s no getting rid of each other after the shit they’ve been through. 

The six of them—and wow, Steve’s never had so many people he knows to be his real friends before; it’s a novelty, one he’s never going to take for granted—stay up till dawn in Joyce’s living room, laughing and reminiscing and making plans to meet for the holidays. 

They’re loud as hell, rambunctious like a couple of kids—and that’s what they are, you know? Just a bunch of big kids who put their lives on hold to save a town that shows them no love and a world they’ve never seen before. They’re going to see it now, though. They’ve got plans. 

Joyce doesn’t care about the noise, anyway, and Hop might pretend to but he can’t hide the smile on his face even as he feigns exasperation. He knows they deserve this little bit of normalcy; a raw blessing in the form of finally being able to say goodbye to the childhood that was stolen from them.

Steve leans close to Eddie’s side, nestles into his ribs right where his bandages used to be. They’ve both healed, yeah, but Steve has no feeling and Eddie’s hypersensitive and it’s cold-hot and good. His face is scarred, with a jagged pink mess on his left cheek and lip, and it makes his smile more crooked now than it ever was before. 

Steve doesn’t care. He’s still gorgeous. 

Eddie lets him close, lets him stay close, as they share one beer and then two, three, four, before they’re in each other’s faces and laughing and teasing and Eddie’s lips are red and his eyes are bright and something chips away at Steve’s heart and he breathes like it’s the first time ever and he wants to kiss Eddie. 

He doesn’t. Not yet. 

Eventually, they move outside to the porch. Jon turns the radio on. He grabs Nancy and they dance to one song after another; Argyle convinces Robin to join him since she skipped out on prom and Steve watches them and laughs with a bubbly pit in his tummy when Eddie takes his hand. 

Eddie tugs him up with a grin and then they’re dancing, too, and the songs go by and the stars twinkle above and all six of them scream the lyrics at the tops of their lungs, grateful to be in the woods where nobody but the people they love can hear them. 

Soon, they tire out. Nancy and Robin get the couch, cuddling together, and Jon and Argyle are a combined lump on the floor with a massive mess of blankets. Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand and they make a pallet together, lay down and lean close and talk the rest of the night—even if Steve’s going to be so tired the next day he can’t keep his eyes open. 

It doesn’t matter. 

Eddie matches him word for word, story for story, promise for promise. He wishes they had more time to nurture this blossoming something between them, but it’s okay for now. It’ll have to be. 

The next morning is a pain. Steve drives with Robin to the end of town, where the six of them say goodbye for a while. Nancy and Jon hug him close, and Argyle gives him a fist bump and a nod, swears he’ll put the number Steve gave him to good use. 

Eddie shuffles close to him, wraps him up tight like he did through the night. Whispers, in his ear, “Don’t be a stranger,” with breath that smells like beer and mint toothpaste, and Steve holds him so tight it’s a wonder neither of them snap in two. 

He could have this, he thinks. He could have Eddie as he is now—a hot, raging wildfire with flames so big they burn everything they touch. Steve isn’t sure he can handle that yet, wants to protect his heart from Eddie’s fire for a little longer and that’s okay. 

They’ve got time. Neither of them are dead, and phone calls are only a few numbers away; Steve can wait while Eddie chases his dreams, can wait for that wildfire to burn down to a simmer. He’s got some living he wants to do first, anyway. They’ll be better for the wait. 

Steve watches them drive away, first Nancy and Jon and then Argyle and Eddie in that ugly van. Eddie hangs his head out the window and watches Steve until neither one of them can see the other anymore. 

It’s bittersweet, seeing them go because he’s going to miss them but he knows why, understands why they’ve got to get out of his town and doesn’t blame them for taking their first chance. He’ll follow soon, he will, but right now he has to take care of a few things before he leaves. There’s time, still. 

Robin slips her hand in his. She says, “The kids want to go to the arcade this afternoon,” around a watery laugh, and Steve nods, laughs too, and turns and walks back to his car. He doesn’t look over his shoulder; he and Robin will be joining the others soon, after all.