#next updates will have more budding ronance

[fragilecapric0rnn]

FRIENDS AU Part 2: The One Where Eddie Copes

[part one]

[cross-posted to ao3] || word count: 3.3k

Eddie doesn’t know how long it takes for his soul to return to his body. 

It left as soon as his eyes and brain fully registered that he was suddenly in the presence of his high school crush. Right here, in the flesh, sitting in the middle of his friends in The Jittery. He can’t help but consider the fact that he may have been the one to summon him with his pathetic cry for his ex-girlfriend just moments before the incident. 

The casual, ‘You remember Eddie? From high school?’ comment from Robin sucker-punched Eddie right in the chest. The eye contact and shy smile that followed nearly sent Eddie into some sort of stress-induced cardiac arrest. 

He hardly registers the barely coherent story that Steve is trying to tell. Eddie watches him bring a glass of water to his mouth with shaky hands and tries not to stare at his lips. 

“I’m confused.” Jonathan says as Eddie starts to regain consciousness.  

Memories of his repressed gay awakening circa-1985 come flooding back with a vengeance. Sitting in the bleachers during gym class, watching this same guy flick off his t-shirt, dripping in sweat, shit-talking his opponents, shoving them around a little too rough for a gym class game of basketball. 

He adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, right now, in 1993. Beating away the thoughts from the Ghost of Horny Moments Past, pushing away the potential for any unexplainable chubs as he tries to sit and listen to the man himself ramble about God-knows-what, soaking wet like a pathetic little kitten in the coffee shop. 

He’s going to throw up. 

Or pass out. 

Possibly both.

Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the runaway bride, too distracted to notice that he’s in crisis. 

“It makes perfect sense to me.” Argyle shrugs, handing Steve a giant ceramic cup. 

“Just run it by us one more time.” 

Steve takes a comically large sip from his mug, holds the coffee in his cheeks, making them puff out and Eddie is convinced that this is some sort of punishment for all of his mistakes. 

“You know, they always told me that cold feet are normal. That’s what they all say about  getting married, that you get cold feet. Well, I realized when I woke up this morning, after having a very vivid and intense dream about Harrison Ford, that maybe my feet were never really that warm to begin with, ya know?” 

Everyone is nodding, as if they do know. Nancy has her eyebrows knitted together, Robin looks a bit too amused, Jonathan looks confused, and Argyle is casually dipping his tea bag into his mug, like this is a normal thing unfolding in front of them.

“Look, I was in a frat in college. I am very comfortable with my sexuality or whatever and I didn’t let the dream sway any decision making at that moment.”

Eddie resists the urge to ask him what exactly this sexuality is. 

“So it wasn’t Harrison…” Nancy presses, her hand motioning as if to say, 'Please continue this batshit story.'

“It wasn’t him,” He takes a sip from his mug, the rest of the group inches closer. “It happened about 10 minutes later, when Lola was knocking on my door, standing there in tears.”

“Fuck,” Robin drags out the word, Jonathan lets out a low whistle.

“Turns out, she also had lukewarm feet throughout most of our relationship. She wanted to call it off. And that’s when I knew we had to. Because any normal fiance would’ve freaked the fuck out, right? Would’ve started begging or pleading or yelling or something! But I had nothing. Nothing but relief.” 

The collective air in the room deflates. 

“So, we devised a plan. We’d both get ready, business as usual. And I’d be the one to sneak out of the bathroom window in the groom’s suite. Before we realized it was on the second story of the hotel.” 

He shrugs, as Eddie studies his attire a little closer, seeing he does have twigs and a smattering of leaves on his now-discarded jacket.

“Steve, I know you’re vulnerable and whatever,” Robin says, pausing when Nancy smacks her arm. “But, why here? Why us?” Motioning between her and Nancy.

He chuckles, eyes now looking down into his cup. Eddie can't help but stare at this very odd man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t know. I guess it was mostly because I knew you lived in the city. But there’s another part of me that knew you’d understand. You were one of the only people I’ve ever met that tried understanding me for me. Not what you wanted me to be.” 

And that's, wow. Why on Earth would he say something like that? Now Eddie has to cope with the fact that not only is this dude still hot, he sounds sweet as hell. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up to the apartment.” 

He can’t cope. 

- 

“Mom, you’re gonna need to stop crying or hand the phone back to dad.” Steve pleads. He's been on the phone for about an hour at this point, everyone else scattered around Nancy's apartment, listening.

Eddie, most of the shock worn off by now, is sitting at Nancy’s kitchen table, eating a pie straight from the tin and unable to tear his eyes away from the train wreck that is Steve Harrington, still in his damp clothes, but stripped down to an undershirt and the tux pants and no shoes or socks.

Watches him keep tugging hard at his hair every time a muffled yell comes out of the phone, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

No wonder this guy ran away. 

Robin sits backwards on the chair next to Eddie’s as Steve stumbles out of the window onto the terrace, where the rain has somewhat let up.  

“Do you think he’s gay?” He asks as soon as Steve is fully outside. 

“Definitely not straight." Robin plucks the fork from Eddie's hand.

Jonathan shrugs, sighing as he finally sets the change of clothes down on the table and takes a seat.. He has been holding a change of clothes from his apartment in his hands for at least a half hour, waiting for Steve to get off the phone with his parents. 

"I mean, who talks about Harrison Ford in the same breaths as explaining why you ran away from your wedding?” He says, stealing the fork from Robin. 

“I never think about Harrison Ford unless I’m watching him on tv. And even then I barely think about him.” 

“Does that answer your question?” 

Before Eddie can say, not really, his thoughts are interrupted by a commotion coming from the other side of the room where the bedroom doors are closed.

Nancy comes out of the spare room, curly hair frizzier than it had been on the way up the stairs from the coffee shop, rubbing her temples and pulling on her face as she joins the group in the living room. 

“Are they still arguing?” She asks, craning her neck to get a better look at him out on the terrace. He’s still gesturing wildly, doing a lot more yelling. 

“I think so?” Robin turns her head like a confused dog, watching him gesture wildly with his free hand. 

“One minute he’s telling his dad that he doesn’t want to live like him and then it sounds like his mom is crying, I think he talked to his old nanny at one point?” 

“His parents sound like a mess.” Eddie says, earning three different versions of a 'no-duh' look from his friends.

“Have you seen the apple? What kinda tree do you think it fell from?” Jonathan says, passing the fork back to Eddie, which is then snatched away by Nancy. She takes the pie tin from them, putting it back in the fridge. 

They can hear the window opening and Steve falling back inside, silent cursing to himself. 

“No dad, you listen!” All their heads snap in the direction of Steve. Once again, soaking wet. His face is red, his already big hair standing up in every direction, and an insane look on his eyes.

Are his pupils dilated?

“Fine! I don’t care, I don’t care anymore! Cut me off! I don’t care! You know what,” Steve struggles to get his wallet out of his pocket, pauses and just throws the wallet across the room. Muffled yelling comes from the phone. “I'm snapping my credit cards right fucking now!" 

"I’ll stay here, with Nancy and Robin and you can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass!” Steve hangs up the phone and throws it onto the loveseat next to him. 

No one moves. No one speaks. The air is still, but only for a moment.

“I think this is where the sitcom audience would clap.” Eddie forgot Argyle has been laying down on the couch this entire time. Steve’s red face suddenly looks sickly pale. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

Jonathan and Nancy hop up from their spots, Robin hands him a brown paper bag, and they guide him to the couch. Eddie watches this all unfold, lingering in the background. Not one for comfort, especially being the king of mommy and daddy issues, without the complicated mess of being a trust fund baby, he has nothing helpful to add. 

“It’s gonna be okay, just try taking deep breaths.” 

Steve nods, the paper bag inflating and deflating slower, but still rather fast. 

“Would it help if I sang a song?” 

The bag inflates and deflates even slower, everyone just sort of stares at Argyle. 

“Don’t worry, about a thing, because every little thing, is gonna be alright.” Steve slowly brings the paper bag down, rests his hand on Argyle’s forearm.  

“I think I’m okay now, thank you.” He visibly winces at the lackluster Bob Marley

“Don’t mention it, mon.” 

For some godforsaken reason, Steve looks right at Eddie as they make the same face, an eyebrow hiked up to their hairlines, the physical embodiment of a scoff without actually scoffing. All while making eye contact with each other. 

Eddie looks away quickly, jumping out of the chair so fast that it scrapes against the floor, startling everyone in the room. 

“What am I gonna do?” He sounds panicked. 

“We’re gonna help you figure it out,” Jonathan says, sat on the coffee table across from him. 

“You can stay here with me, Jonathan and Robin live across the hall, it’ll be fun.” Nancy is patting his arm. 

“But what about money? I have none of that!” 

“There are these things called jobs,” Eddie says, Nancy snaps her head around and damn-near snarls at him. Steve’s brown paper bag is back to inflating and deflating. 

The phone rings, saving Eddie from immediate doom via-Nancy Wheeler. 

Nancy looks at the time and is now the one to get up from her seat next to Steve like something bit her on the ass.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What's with all the shit, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, Nancy flipping him off as the phone continues to ring in her hand.

“I forgot to call Frank and cancel.”

“Who’s Frank?” 

“My date,” she says, immediately sending Eddie a scrunched up face and mouthing sorry.  

“Wait wait wait, Frank? As in, Frank the Creepy Paper Salesman?” Robin hops over the backside of the couch, falling into Nancy. The phone stops ringing. Nancy takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and looking up at the ceiling.

Creepy was a generous assessment of the piece of work that is Frank. Asking Nancy on dates ever since she started working at The Times, stopping by the office ad nauseam, so much so, he has become a regular fixture in the lore surrounding Nancy's office.

“Yes, that Frank.” 

“Is the dating well running that dry Nance? So dry you finally said yes to Frank the creepy paper salesman?” 

“Listen, he caught me in a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Were you conscious during this lapse?” 

"Fully, I just. It's been a while since I'd been on a date and my mom would not stop pestering me about it on the phone literal minutes, seconds even, before Frank showed up to talk to my boss. So, when he did his usual creep routine of asking me out, I said yes."

“Was he as surprised as we are?” Eddie asks, Nancy nods, wincing. 

"And are you regretting the yes?"

"Fully!" 

The phone is ringing again. 

“Hello,” she answers, sounding like she has a congested nose. “Hi Frank, yeah, I’m not feeling that well. Yeah, maybe we can postpone. I’ll call you, yeah.” 

“I’m sorry Nancy, I know this was kinda my fault.” Steve’s voice continues to be muffled by the bag. 

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be upset about you going out with Frank the Creep.” Eddie sits back down in the kitchen chair. Is he really that fragile? Can his friends really not share their downfalls with him like they used to? 

“I don’t know! You freaked when Robin went on a date with Tam-” 

“Aht! Aht!” Robin waves her hands in the air, almost elbowing Steve. “We are not talking about my dating life. I am striking this down immediately!” 

“Point still stands, then. You’re still very upset about Michelle.” And the sound of her name feels like a cartoon anvil dropping inside of his stomach, dropping and dropping. 

“We are not gonna talk about Michelle right now.” He deadpans. 

“Who’s Michelle?” Steve asks, paper bag back in front of his face, inflating and deflating as he speaks.  All of the air has been kicked out of Eddie’s lungs. 

“Eddie’s ex,” Argyle whispers loudly, with no effort made to keep Eddie from hearing him. 

“We are not talking about Michelle right now!” Eddie yells. Everyone goes quiet. 

“Right now we are going to focus on getting Steve to stop breathing into a paper fucking bag!” 

To which they all look over at Steve, who is staring at everyone with wide eyes and the bag no longer dramatically inflating and deflating, just held to his mouth as he stares around the room. 

“I’m actually starting to feel a little better.” He says, into the bag. Inflating and deflating. 

-

-

-

Across the hall, Eddie has his feet kicked up on Jonathan and Robin’s couch, hands linked and resting on his stomach. His head in Robin’s lap and his feet on Jonthan’s lap, staring up at the ceiling where he can see a spaghetti stain splattered across the asbestos pattern. 

Jeopardy is playing in the background but none of them are paying attention. Argyle is sat on the floor, head close to Eddie’s as they all pass around a joint. 

“So, you let her take the TV, the bedroom set, and the living room set. What do you even have left at your place?” 

“Pots and pans?” 

“Dude,” Argyle blows a ring of smoke in the air. “That is so not cool.” He passes Eddie the joint.

“I felt bad. It’s my fault we’re in this situation.” 

“There are no faults, and yet you’re still punishing yourself.” Jonathan says, eyes glued to the TV, a familiar spacey look on his face. 

Argyle checks his watch and gets up from the floor, patting around his pockets. 

“Looks like it’s time for me to head out, Aunt Miriam is making midnight spaghetti and I wanna get there before her boyfriend eats all the garlic bread.” 

“Midnight spaghetti?” and “Your great aunt has a boyfriend?” are asked by Eddie and Robin respectively at the same time. 

“See ya man,” Jonathan yells as the door shuts behind him. 

Robin knocks on Eddie’s head lightly before pushing him off of her, stretching and yawning as she stands. 

“I’m gonna go raid Nance’s for some more beers,” He swings he feet off of Jonathan’s lap and stretches. 

“I’ll get your pillow and blankey situated,” Robin says. Eddie half turns to send her a salute before shutting the door, opening the one across the hall almost in one fell swoop. 

He doesn’t expect to see Steve still up, sitting at the same kitchen chair he spent most of the afternoon and evening in. Most of the color returned to face, a glass of wine and an open bottle on the table. 

“Hey,” He says, curious and careful

“Hi.” Steve smiles warmly at him, gesturing the bottle at him, Eddie takes it as an invitation. 

“You alright?” He grabs a wine glass from Nancy’s hanging glass rack. 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

“Why? A lot on your mind?” Eddie takes the seat across form him. 

“You’re funny,” Steve fills Eddie’s glass. “I remember you being kinda funny in high school.” To that, Eddie fakes a dagger to the heart, startling Steve a bit, who is looking at Eddie with the same type of amusement that everyone looked at him with a few hours ago. 

“If seventeen-year-old-me heard you say that you remembered me at all from high school, there’d be an Eddie shaped hole in that door.” Eddie takes a swig from his wine, thanking whoever is in charge of the universe that it's red wine, giving him an explanation for the blush already blooming on his face. Well, a better explanation than a cute guy laughing at his silly jokes. 

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget all those lunchtime sermons about how cool and different you were and how lame and boring the rest of us were.” Steve says, not hiding how much it he seems to enjoy that the little walk down memory lane has started to make Eddie visibly cringe.

“Don’t remind me of that,” Eddie groans into his glass. 

“You seem a lot softer now.” 

Eddie drags his eyes up from where they were studying the knick in the the wood on the table, meeting Steve’s gaze. 

“You caught me at a soft time in my life, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve leans back in his chair, brings his own glass to his lips, pausing to take a sip. “Your ex.” 

“Yep, my ex.” 

“Did she just, totally break your heart?” He asks, throwing Eddie off guard a bit. He didn't expect Steve to be so forward with his nosiness. Kinda respects it. 

“No, it was more like. I broke my own heart.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

He looks at Steve. Really looks at him, and can almost see the kindness actually spilling out of those pretty brown eyes, how he came to Robin and Nancy specifically to help him out, knowing that they would. 

“It means, I realized that she’s not really my type after all. After eight years together, I finally realized that I am g-” he clears his throat. 

“That I’m gay. No matter how much I love her, no amount is going to change the fact that I wasted both of our time.” 

Eddie can’t bear to look up at Steve, but feels his eyes on him. 

The glug glug sound of wine pouring out of the bottle breaks the silence, Eddie finally looks up. 

“You need it more than I do,” Steve says, taking a swig from the bottle, tipping it over the table to show that it’s now empty. 

This makes Eddie laugh. A full belly laugh that seems to be contagious, as Steve’s now laughing, a snort escaping his nose and mouth, making the two laugh even harder. 

“You guys, seriously?” Nancy comes out of her room, robe on and rollers in her hair. “Some of us have to work in the morning!” 

“Sorry Nance, we’ll keep it down.” 

“Sorry.” 

She looks at them, her face softens with look of mild bewilderment. Stands there for a few seconds longer than she otherwise would’ve, before wordlessly going back into her bedroom. 

“That reminds me, I need to get one of those.” Steve says as her door clicks shut. 

“One of what?” 

“A job, or something.” 

“I can put a good word in for you at a few places.” He says, taking a big gulp from the very full wine glass. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

He can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he will be able to cope with Steve being around.