This was originally planned to be its own fic, with background and build up and ✨️longing✨️, but I don't think it'll work out. Can't write slow burn to save my life.
Enjoy this bit of it because I'm still gonna be thinking about it.
Context - Post Vecna, a few days after the gates open. Eddie lives, barely, and has some trouble moving. Max survives, though with impaired vision and legs, Vecna having taken barely enough from her to open the gates. The Party finds an abandoned shelter outside of town after everybody reunites, using it as their base.
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It's logical, he tries to reason. It makes sense, it's the only real way to handle this situation.
The kids are all bunking together, no doubt turning the entire floor into one single bed. With the Cali-Crew (quote Dustin) finally back home, no one would dare try and separate them. Besides, the fight over who got to bunk with Max to watch over her injuries was getting too annoying for anyone to keep dealing with.
The adults are bunking together as well. Having one guy sleeping alone in a room each during these times, when danger was prominent every single night, seemed weird to the Russians and Wayne. Plus, as Murray jokes, it "keeps an eye on Hop and Joyce at night" (he got a few punches for that one, laughing all the while).
But the teens started this whole thing - or rather, Argyle did. The second they found out how many rooms there were available in the shelter, he called shotgun on one for just him and Jonathan. The adults reluctantly agreed to it, so Nancy took the chance and grabbed a room for her and Robin, to everyone's surprise.
Which left one last pairing.
Steve did look a little upset about not getting to bunk with Robin (and if you ask Eddie, a little scared, but he won't even try and think of the reason). But upon her and Nancy's shrug and responding, "Girls night," he conceded with an eye roll and a sighed, "Girls night..." before immediately grabbing Eddie to take the room in the middle of the hall.
And that seemed to be Steve's only grievance about bunking with Eddie. Everything else he's seen in the past few days of their recovery, his quirks and struggles alike, he looks ready to take in stride.
Eddie sleeps far from the door with his spear and shield next to him? "I would've fought you on that first, man. And hey, my bed back home has a bat on each side. This thing never leaves me."
Eddie's gauze leaks through with shit from his wounds? He can barely walk to the door without shaking? "We dealt with the same bats, Eds, it's okay, I got you."
Eddie has a big emotional gay crush on the guy and everytime he's called "Eds" he wants to beg for Steve to hold him and never let go?...Well, Steve doesn't know about that one, but it's only a matter of time honestly.
Especially considering the damn sleeping arrangement, which makes itself prominent the second they open the door.
While the rooms themselves aren't so bad, considering the age of this place, Steve and Eddie got lucky enough to find the one room with only one proper bed. Connected bathroom and pull out couch, yeah, sure, cool. But the springs in the couch are rusted through and snapped shut when Eddie tried to open it, so that's a no.
And Steve, still recoiling from the bang of the couch, had the audacity to try and suggest he sleep on the floor?!
"Hell no, Steve!" Eddie immediately fought. Showing too much care that it makes Steve look shocked. "Do you know how many rats could've been crawling around on that? We can clean the bed, but who knows what's hiding in those cracks? Just take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch-"
"After that thing almost exploded?!" Steve exclaimed back. He's a little concerned, with his puffed chest and hands on his hips countered by the softer give in his eyes. "No way, Eds, not with your bites still fucking you up." Stop looking at his eyes, Munson. "I'll just get another bed from the spare rooms-"
"Nope, not happening either." Steve may still be the hot ass jock he was in high school, but a year out of the gym and his own wounds in his sides and back would make just that torture. Because there's no doubt he'll reject any help, try and do it all his own. And Eddie refuses to let him run into pain again. "The couch works just fine as is, and I can barely move anyway, so no harm no foul, right?"
"You could fall off," Steve responds, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
"You'll get rabies on that floor," Eddie counters. Then he tilts his head to the side, a lilt in his tone. "Can't worry our dear Buckley, now can we?"
Steve snorts at that, making Eddie smile. Goddamn it, Munson. "You wouldn't be able to get up on your own from the couch," Steve counters yet again, smiling like it's a competition now.
"You wouldn't be able to get up at all," Eddie fights back.
"The bed probably stinks."
"And you'd still let me go up there?"
"You need actual sleep."
"So do you."
"...You wouldn't wanna move rooms?"
"Steve, you don't even want to move."
They're both smiling so wide it has to hurt Steve the way it hurts Eddie. Every counter they've taken a step forward until they're almost face to face, same height even with Eddie's trembling from sliced nerves.
Someone has to break soon - "Then take the damn bed, Munson!" - and it turns out to be Eddie. Because of course.
"Only if you do too!"
There isn't enough metal in the walls for the words to be echoing this much. It's the first retort Steve's actually affected by, flinching back just a hair but it's enough. His expression goes from giddiness to a kind of seriousness Eddie can't decipher.
Eddie's frozen solid. He doesn't want to know what he looks like, knows enough how his eyes are way too wide, that his mouth is stumbling over words it can't make. Look who's really fucked up now, the dude saved your life and you two are finally friends, and you're repaying the favor by asking him to sleep with you. Shameful, disgusting, inconsiderate...
But Steve's looking over at the bed. Assessing the dust covered sheets, the pillows and slightly moldy headboard, and then...
He fucking shrugs like it's no big deal and is saying "Okay," like it doesn't stab Eddie right in the throat, making him squeak as he's brought out of his head into something that cannot be reality.
"Okay?" Eddie responds, incredulous, watching Steve go over to their duffel bags in the hall.
"If it means you'll back down, sure. That thing's big enough for the both of us anyway." Steve throws the bags on the couch, flinching a little when he stands up straight again. "You could've just suggested that from the start, Eds, could've saved us the trouble with the death trap over here." He jokes, nodding at the couch.
But Eddie doesn't catch it, shocked in silence. Making a big deal out of nothing because of his stupid stupid heart. "You're serious?"
Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he's offended by Eddie's surprise. The mirth in his eyes hasn't faded though. "I'm not scared of a little sleepover, man. And if it wasn't you it was gonna be Robin, so don't think you're special." He walks over to the bed as he says that, but Eddie still catches the fear in his eyes again. The one flavored with loneliness.
But as Steve starts carefully pulling the sheets off the bed, he softens again, meeting Eddie's eyes with a kindness that's so genuine. Breath, Munson, that's a thing you need. "Seriously though, Eds, I'm cool with it, don't worry. We've both been through some worse shit than this, yet I'm still here. So are you." Steve averts his eyes, looking almost sheepish as Eddie's heart basically implodes. "Don't think you can push me away now. You're stuck here, like it or not."
Steve occupies his hands with collecting the sheets, so carefully trying not to send dust everywhere. Eddie finally breaks out of his stupor, smiling as his chest sags in relief. Crush or not, Steve proves Eddie's little Upside Down speech right every single damn day. Playful and sarcastic and strong, but the hidden consideration and softness and care showing through. Every. Single. Time.
Steve reaches for the thin bed cover at the bottom, but Eddie's already there on the other side, pulling it out of his grasp. His head snaps up, surprise to open fondness. "You sure about that, Stevie?" Eddie jokes, slowly bunching up the sheet in his hands. Knows the truth is peeking through. "I've been called quite the unforgiving bunk mate."
Steve blinks at his words, searching him for something Eddie doesn't want to know. But then he's smiling too, not looking away as he goes for the pillows. "As long as you don't snore, I'll be the judge of that."
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Eddie does snore.
Not outright, it's a barely there grumble if you get technical. But it comes up sometimes when he sleeps on his back, and thanks to those glorious bites, he's forced to. Thus, snoring. Steve would probably make fun of it, play up the annoyance and make a joke of it to get Eddie to laugh.
But they're both fast asleep. Steve in just sweatpants and Eddie in a shirt and shorts, on opposite ends of the bed, passed out with the exhaustion of the last week still weighing them down.
They're no better than the rest of the Party, their new base of operations providing them all a sense of safety no trailer or winnebago has before. Granting them all the deepest sleep they've had yet.
Still, the unconscious Steve shuffles in his sleep in the dead of night. His brain is a hive of noise in times like these, making his subconscious dark and uncomfortable. He's deep in slumber, exhaustion keeping him trapped down, so his body tries to counteract it, twisting and turning to find sanctuary.
The unconscious Eddie isn't faring any better. Even in sleep he's restless, his usual positions consisting of shuffling legs, constant turning, and the tight cradling of a pillow, all in the attempts to keep his body down and still. But with the wounds, he can hardly breathe without straining against them. Every attempt his subconscious makes to move, a sharp burst of pain shoots into his dreams, and he stops with a groaning snore. And though the blankets they could salvage are thick and comfortable, this new Hawkins post-Vecna is cold at night, and Eddie is too exposed to not feel the shivers rack his body, flaring the pain further.
With a sleepy mumble, Steve shuffles into the bed a little further, his brow straining against his mind's assault. At the same time, Eddie turns his head onto his uninjured cheek, the only movement his body will allow.
Steve squirms and it strains at the wounds in his back, so against the bruising pain of the bites, he turns over into his side. He's got more freedom than Eddie there, so while his body slowly settles against the pain, his other arm comes around to find peace in the sheets below. Anything to ground him from the memories swirling fast like rushing lake water.
And it finds something. Something solid, soft, real and breathing and alive and safe. Steve's too deep in sleep to comprehend it past that, so his fingers just run softly over it, savoring the tranquility it offers his rattled head.
Likewise, Eddie's snoring abruptly quiets with a breathy exhale. Something has grabbed hold of his upper arm. Soft and moving but it's warm, radiating heat up to his shoulder blade and down into his fingertips. Thankful and desperate, his subconscious moves him to shuffle sideways, face straining against the pain in search of the aid that'll soothe it.
At the same time, Steve also searches for more of that feeling, the edge of darkness licking at his heels as he tries to escape. Closes the gap.
Steve is now laying nearly on top of Eddie's right side, arm draped over his chest and head finding solace in the crook of his neck. All the while, both of them completely unconscious.
Steve's brain goes blissfully silent, the presence of another comforting his innate fears and driving away the darkness into a muted haze. It pulls his mind completely away from whatever pain resides in his torso, and he relaxes fully with a soft mumble.
Eddie sags into the bed with a deep exhale. The warmth digs deep into his bones, burning away the cold and restless twitching in his nerves. The pressure on his side adds to the weight on his mind, dragging him deeper into sleep. The pressure on his chest is just barely off of his wounds, soothing the stabbing in his gut in to a soft pulsing.
He leans more into it, meeting Steve breath for breath. Letting their hearts match in beat, sinking into peace. It's the safest and most comfortable they've been since hell froze over.
But as the night goes on, they'll slowly drift apart. When the sun rises they'll be separate once again. Their minds will only remember the peace, their bodies the vague touch of comfort.
Despite everything, they'll be none the wiser.
Despite everything, the next night, they'll long for it again.
And despite everything, they would find it.
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