Chapter Text
“I don’t know, I mean— I just feel like they’re not even listening to me, you know? I tried telling them everything that I’m working on, and that I’m, like, busy with, and they just laughed. I mean— Paul fucking made fun of me for having responsibilities, and I don’t— I don’t know what to do, and I am… ranting to you again. Sorry.”
“‘S okay,” Steve’s voice says, soft and crackly over the phone. “I like listening to you.”
“But…” Eddie sighs, leaning against the wall. “I feel like I’ve just been bitching to you lately.”
“You’ve got a lot going on, Eddie, I don’t mind. I mean—“ His voice becomes strained like he’s sitting up, adjusting. “You’ve got school, and Morgan’s, and dealing, and D&D, and Corroded. And last week you mentioned that you feel like you don’t see Wayne enough anymore with everything going on, so I know that’s bothering you too.”
Eddie’s heart swells. He doesn’t even remember telling him that.
“Do the guys in Corroded even have jobs?” Steve asks sassily.
“No?”
“Right, okay, they can all suck a dick,” Steve dryly, and Eddie laughs. “They can’t make fun of you for doing stuff when they’re not doing anything themselves.”
“I love when you’re a bitch.”
“It’s my natural state. Are you looking for solutions or do you just wanna vent?”
“I guess solutions would be nice.”
“Tell the guys from Corroded to fuck off,” Steve says bluntly, and Eddie laughs again, squeezing his eyes shut. “Or, I guess, see if they’re willing to play a few gigs without you so you can focus on your priorities. Not that— I mean, Corroded is a priority, but—”
“Graduating is a priority priority,” Eddie interrupts his unnecessary corrections. “I’m graduating this year, Stevie, I swear to God.”
“Yeah, you are.”
He can hear Steve’s smile in his voice.
“How’s homework going?”
“I’m definitely doing it,” Eddie says half-heartedly. “Mr Anderson said he’s proud of me for trying, which. I mean. Felt kinda backhanded, but he’s actually nice.”
“I remember him, he was cool.”
“I just…” Eddie huffs. “Steve, how the fuck do you memorise shit? I got a quiz in biology next week, and I can’t remember anything for the life of me.”
“Uhm.” Steve sighs. Eddie closes his eyes. “I don’t know, I have a shit memory. Probably ‘cuz of all the head injuries, but…”
Eddie shakes his head, rolling his eyes.
It’s true, that Steve has an awful memory. He knows it. Steve is always forgetting things at the trailer, in Eddie’s van, and he was late to pick the kids up consistently enough that they started calling up Nancy Wheeler, and now Steve has post-it notes all over his house.
Work - 10:30 Monday
Max to arcade - 2:30 Friday
Lucas from basketball - 5:00 Wednesday
Etc.
It’s endearing, but worrying.
“Nancy always made flash cards for her classes, have you tried that?”
“I’ve tried everything, Stevie. Some girls from class suggested a bunch of stuff that they do, but nothing works.”
“Well…”
Steve sighs.
Eddie sighs.
“I’m hopeless.”
“You’re not hopeless, Eddie, just find something that works for you. Not everything that works for other people will work for you.”
“Like what?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “I don’t…”
“What about…” Steve pauses, and Eddie waits. “What about D&D?”
“…What about it?”
“I mean. You memorise all the characters, and their stats or whatever, and every little detail about the world and everything, so I mean, I know you can memorise stuff. You just— Can you just… somehow treat biology like D&D? Make it a game or something?”
Eddie blinks, looking across the room blankly.
“You still there?”
“Steve, you’re a fucking genius.”
Steve laughs loudly.
“Don’t hear that often.”
“I gotta go,” Eddie says quickly. “I’m gonna— I’m gonna figure something out, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, Eddie,” Steve says lightly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby, so much,” he says before loudly blowing a kiss.
He runs to his room to find his stupid fucking flashcards after hanging up.
Thursday afternoon, he speeds to Family Video (definitely passing the speed limit, but luckily he doesn’t pass any cops). Robin is at the front, sorting through returned tapes. She looks up, taking a breath to say her regular, bright, “Welcome to Family Video,” but when her eyes land on him, she says, “Oh, hey,” instead.
“Steve?” Eddie asks quickly. She grins.
“Back room. He’s got a little headache.”
“Okay, good to know, thanks, Buckley.”
Steve is sitting at a table in the back, his head lowered to block out light, a water bottle in his hand. Eddie quietly shuts the door behind himself.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Steve lifts his head, eyes squinting, but his face relaxes when he sees Eddie crossing the room.
“Hey,” he says lightly. “Thought you had work today.”
“I do, I just…” Eddie pauses, smiling at him. “Needed to see you.”
“Everything okay?”
“Mhmm, gotta tell you something.” He sits in the chair next to Steve, leaning close. “But first.” He kisses him softly, holding his chin, and he can feel Steve’s shoulders fall as he relaxes, and Steve reaches up to hold his face.
He sighs when they part, his eyes fluttering open to look at Eddie.
“Needed that,” he says softly. Eddie giggles, kissing him again before he kisses his forehead. “What do you have to tell me?”
Eddie grins and lets go of him, twisting around to reach into his backpack and pull out the packet he placed carefully at the very front. He hands it out to Steve, who takes it sceptically, raising an eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie turns in his chair to face him, watching his pretty eyes look at the front page, watching him find the 75% at the top next to his name.
Steve looks up at him with wide eyes, and Eddie tucks his hands into his lap, grinning and scrunching his nose.
“What?” Steve says loudly, and Eddie starts to laugh, beaming. “Eddie!”
Steve reaches out and grabs the front of his shirt, tugging him in and kissing him so hard it almost hurts, but Eddie doesn’t care because he’s still laughing and glowing with pride. And because Steve is kissing him like they’re alone in his bedroom, sliding his tongue along Eddie’s, licking into his mouth, biting at his lip. When he finally pulls away, Eddie is breathless, flustered and pink-cheeked.
“Woah.”
“‘M so proud of you,” Steve mumbles, kissing him again, still gripping his shirt, and Eddie feels lightheaded.
“Is that what I’m gonna get every time I pass something?” he asks when Steve releases him. Steve looks back at the packet, grinning.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Eddie breathes.
“How’d you do it?” Steve asks, flipping through the packet, looking at Eddie’s messy handwriting.
“What you said,” Eddie says, moving closer. “I made it a game.”
Steve looks up at him with a smile, his eyes sparkling.
“Ms Booker asked to see me after class,” Eddie says, grinning. “She thought I cheated.”
“You’re happy about that?”
“Yeah, because I didn’t,” Eddie says adamantly, leaning forward with emphasis. He knows his eyes are wide, and he looks crazed in the way that makes people wary of him, makes people avoid him, but Steve is smiling at him softly, fondly. “And I got to tell her that, and she didn’t believe me at first, but I showed her the game I made, and she thought it was funny.”
“You think it’ll work for your other classes?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
Steve leans forward, brushing their noses together.
“Proud of you,” he whispers.
Eddie gazes at his lip, soft and pink and pretty, and reaches to hold the lapel of his vest.
“Do I get another kiss?”
Steve smiles, setting the paper down and turning to face him, leaning close. His fingers find Eddie’s chin, trace his jaw softly, trail down to his neck.
“Do you want one?” he asks in a low voice. Eddie could swoon.
“God, yes.”
Steve smiles in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach flip over, lazy and easy and confident, and his hand tightens on Eddie’s neck, his palm pressing to his throat. His hand is cold against Eddie’s skin. Eddie forgets to breath, his eyes drifting shut as Steve leans closer.
There’s a stretch of time before Steve finally kisses him. Eddie thinks Steve might just be looking at him. (He doesn’t really mind.)
Eddie whines when Steve traces his bottom lip with his tongue, and Steve’s hand tightens. Steve shushes him softly.
“We’re in my place of work,” he says, his lips brushing Eddie’s as they both smile. “You gotta be quiet.”
“Sorry.”
“‘S okay.”
He kisses him finally, just as he’s pulling at Eddie’s neck and Eddie is exhaling sharply, like Steve is stealing his breath right from his chest. He kisses him back desperately, lifting a hand to hold Steve’s against his neck, pushing forward and sighing.
He feels Steve’s lips curve into a smile against his, sighs when Steve’s tongue slides into his mouth. It’s too much for the back room of Steve’s place of work, too sloppy and messy, too wet, too fucking horny, but neither of them really care. Steve’s hand tightens again when Eddie whines again, and he squeezes Steve’s hand in apology.
Steve’s head tilts so he can kiss Eddie deeper, and Eddie lifts a hand to the back of his head, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair and tugging gently. Steve pulls away with a gasp, his eyes shut blissfully, and Eddie grins, tugging again, and Steve’s lips part for him to speak, but before he can, there’s a knock on the door.
They both startle, and jump apart, but the door doesn’t open.
“Hey, dingus,” Robin says through the door. “I need some help stocking, if you can spare a moment.”
Steve and Eddie look at each other. And burst into giggles.
Steve’s cheeks are flushed pink, his hair messy, and Eddie knows he looks the same. (He kind of hopes Steve left a handprint around his neck.)
“I should go,” Steve says, still breathless. Eddie nods.
“I— Me too.”
Steve picks up Eddie’s biology packet, looking at the 75% again with a happy smile before he gives it back.
“Don’t forget to tell Wayne,” he says as Eddie is stuffing it back into his backpack.
“I won’t. He’ll probably put it on the fridge or something.”
Steve kisses him one last time before they open the door, and as Steve goes to restock snacks under the counter, Robin gives Eddie a knowing look.
“Seeya, Buckley.”
“Bye, Eddie.”
He speeds to work, explains to his boss that he’s a little late because he had to tell a friend (gag) that he’s finally, fucking finally passing a class. His boss isn’t mad. Just congratulates him quickly and tells him to get to work.
Eddie leaves the paper on the kitchen counter next to Steve’s dead flowers for Wayne to see, and the next day, it’s stuck to the fridge with a magnet.
—————————
It doesn’t rain a lot on Hawkins, but when it does, it pours.
Eddie doesn’t have an umbrella. Every time Wayne gets him one, Eddie loses it, forgets it at school, at the Hideout, or it breaks somehow. He gave up on umbrellas a while ago, and just suffers through wet hair. It’s not the worst. It’s cold, but it’s not like it makes him any less presentable.
He uses his bandana to tie his hair up, off his neck, and takes a breath as he waits for the windows to unfog. And he waits, fiddling through his tapes until something moves in his peripheral and he looks up.
It’s the girl that moved in recently. With the red hair. Max.
Eddie’s never talked to her, but she’s one of Steve’s kids. And it’s fucking pouring, and she’s holding a skateboard.
Eddie pulls the van up and rolls down his window.
“Hey, Red!” he shouts over the rain, and she looks up at him, furrowing her brows.
“The hell are you doing?”
“I have school,” she says.
Right. Duh.
“You’re gonna get fuckin’ hypothermia, come on,” he says, beckoning with a tilt of his head. “I’ll give you a ride.”
She narrows her eyes, suspiciously, and he gets it, fair, but her jacket is getting soaked.
“Come on, I got school too.”
She goes begrudgingly, sits in the passenger seat and faces the window.
“Why isn’t your mom driving you?” he asks, annoyed on her behalf as he starts driving. She’s quiet for a moment.
“…She’s hungover.”
Oh.
He looks outside and nods.
She’s quiet. He glances at her as he drives (more slowly than usual on account of the rain, but also because there’s a kid in the vehicle), and finds her looking around, her eyes finding the frayed fabric of the mats, the old air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror, the bag of weed stashed under the radio dials.
“So,” Eddie says. “I’ve seen you around with Lucas.”
She looks back out the window.
“And?”
Eddie shrugs even though she isn’t looking.
“I dunno, Lucas is cool. Are you guys dating?”
“…No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I did not.”
“Okay.”
She huffs, gripping the end of her skateboard. It’s duct taped. Eddie wants to buy her a new one. He would, if he had the money.
“We were,” she says finally, still looking out the window. “It didn’t work.”
He nods.
“You still like him though.”
“Shut up.”
He just snorts.
“You wanna pick a tape?”
She flips through them, reads everything Eddie wrote in his scribble handwriting. Judas Priest, Slayer, Dio, Twisted Sister, Scorpions. She picks Mötley Crüe curiously, and Eddie quickly tells her she might want to turn the volume down before she hits play.
Eddie sings along to Smokin’ In the Boys’ Room, obnoxious and loud, and when he looks at her again, she’s laughing and bobbing her head. (And now he wants to make her a mixtape.)
“Gotta feeling it’s gonna be raining all day,” he says as they pull into the parking lot. “You got anything after school?“
“Uh.” She hesitates, looking at him nervously as the music cuts off. “Yeah, I have to— to see the counsellor.”
“That’s fine,” Eddie says lightly. “Take your time, meet me here when you’re done. I can show you some Motörhead.”
She has a pretty smile.
He’s tempted to ask her to join to the Hellfire table during lunch, but she glances at them and walks in the opposite direction, and he’s reminded that Dustin and Mike are Steve’s kids too. That she knows them. That she avoids Lucas, and she avoids them too. Eddie doesn’t say anything when Dustin and Mike glance at each other, both of them watching her leave.
Eddie likes Dustin and Mike. And Lucas, even though he doesn’t spend as much time with them. (Eddie will never understand the desire to hang it with the basketball guys that are all objectively douchebags, but he also just… gets it. Why Lucas would rather hang out with them than Eddie, because being with Eddie would make anyone a target by default.)
All three of them are passionate about D&D. They rant and ramble about old campaigns, old characters, their friend Will. You would love him, Mike’s said. Eddie remembers Steve mentioning him a while ago. Will the Wise.
It isn’t raining too hard when school ends. Eddie sits in the front seat, flips through his tapes as he waits for Max. When she arrives, her hair and skin are wet, and she shuts the door wordlessly, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket. She looks tense, her brows furrowed slightly.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” she says lightly. “Just a little headache.”
“You need a painkiller?”
“Uh, no, I took one already.” She gives him a sceptical look as he starts the car. “You have painkillers?”
He does. Lots. In his room, the kitchen, the van, all just in case Steve needs it.
“Yeah.” He meets her look. “I also have bandaids, you wanna report me for that?”
“I’m not reporting you for anything.” She leans back in her seat. “Just wondering how much you’d charge me, you know, if I’d get a next-door-neighbour-discount.”
“I wouldn’t charge you for painkillers.”
“What about this?” She reaches for the weed, and he snatches it from her hand.
“Absolutely not,” he says adamantly, sticking it into the pocket in the door as she laughs.
“What, why not?”
“You’re way too young, Red, you’re not getting weed.”
“How old were you when you started?” she asks, turning to face him as she laughs.
“I…”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Hey.” She laughs again. “I was your age, which is how I know you’re too young. Get back to me when you’re twenty seven.”
“Twenty seven?”
“Yes.”
She just groans in disgust and looks through the tapes again.
“What was that band you mentioned this morning?”
“Uh, Motörhead. You sure you’re good with your headache?”
“Mhm.”
She’s quiet while they listen to it, and when he glances over at her, her expression is lighter, calmer. She’s bobbing her head slightly. He grins.
“Hey,” he says as she’s getting out of the van, leaning across the center console. “You and your mom need anything, you come by, alright?”
“Just not weed.”
“Get outta here.”
She snickers and says, “Thanks, Eddie,” before she shuts the door. Her mom is smoking a cigarette by the front door, eyeing Eddie’s van suspiciously, so he gives her a wave.
—————————
The shop gets hot when Eddie is working, even when he lets the top of his overalls fall over his hips, wearing just a stained tank top. He always feels a little gross, covered in sweat and grease and dirt, but it feels good. He’s working, and by the end of the day he feels oddly content, knowing what he’s gotten done, what he’s gotten to work.
He knows there’s smudges of grease on his face as he world, wipes tickling drops of sweat off with a careless hand, too focussed to really give a shit. He’s on his back, laying under a car and working, his brain quiet as Louder Than Hell plays from a speaker that’s close by him.
He almost drops his tool when there’s a kick to the board he’s laying on, and he huffs, grabbing the bumper of the car and pushing himself out from under it, looking up to find Steve smiling down at him.
“Hey!” Eddie says brightly, excitedly, scrambling to get up. “What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to say hi,” Steve says, his voice thin, his eyes widening as he watches Eddie stand and grab a rag to wipe his hands. “Missed you.”
Eddie’s face softens, and he swallows, wanting to tug him into a kiss.
“Missed you too.”
Steve clears his throat, looking away. His cheeks flush pink.
“How have I never visited you here before?” Steve asks. Eddie shrugs, leaning against the car.
“It’s out of the way,” he says, crossing his arms, looking Steve up and down. He’s wearing a pair of jeans, a green shirt with a navy blue jacket that’s halfway zipped up. His hands are stuffed in the pockets. Eddie wants to eat him. “Not really near anything you go to.”
Steve looks back at him, and Eddie can practically feel his eyes scrape over his grease marked face, over his neck that’s exposed because he’s got his hair tied up.
“What time do you get off tonight?” Steve asks, stepping closer. Eddie glances at his lips.
“Nine.”
Steve nods slowly, his tongue sliding across his lips.
“Why do you ask?” Eddie asks, even though he knows. Steve hesitates.
“You wanna come over after?” He steps up closer, close enough that even if someone was nearby they wouldn’t be able to hear his voice over Mötley Crüe. “Fuck me up against a wall,” he adds, his eyes trained on Eddie’s lips.
Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and his eyes widen. He takes a moment to swallow.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
Steve grins.
“Is that a yes?”
“Christ, Steve, yes, obviously.”
Steve’s smile widens, and Eddie takes a deep breath.
“You look so fucking good, Eddie,” Steve says after a moment. Eddie’s cheeks flush again. “You’re so hot.”
“Could say the same to you.”
Steve just tilts his head.
“I gotta crush on you.”
Eddie looks away.
They’ve done everything short of marry each other. They’ve kissed until their mouths were sore and bruised, until spit dripped down their chins. They’ve fucked until early hours of the morning, until their limbs were sore and damp with each other’s sweat. They’ve held each other as they cried, late at night when Steve wakes up from dreams he can’t talk about, when Eddie gets so worked up with frustration that all he can do is sit and let tears fall.
Steve refers to him as his boyfriend to Wayne and Robin, and Eddie jokes about marrying him, makes fake rings from bread bag twist ties and rubber bands and sewing thread. Steve casually says I love you, and Eddie says it back, and they’re both open and shameless about whatever they want from each other, Steve begging for Eddie’s fingers to pull harder at his hair, Eddie holding his mouth open for Steve’s spit.
And yet.
I gotta crush on you.
It gets Eddie flustered, makes his face flush with heat, makes his stomach flip over like a high school Steve accidentally brushed against his arm while walking past.
And Steve is grinning because he knows exactly what he does to Eddie.
“Get the fuck outta here,” Eddie says, and Steve giggles. “I gotta work.”
“Okay,” Steve says lightly, looking Eddie up and down again. “I’ll let you work.”
“Thank you,” Eddie sing-songs as Steve walks away backward.
Steve mouths Love you.
Eddie watches him go, fidgeting with the dirty rag, his heart beating too fast.
“The hell’s that?”
Eddie startled, tearing his eyes away from Steve’s ass to look at a coworker, who’s also wiping his own hands with a rag, looking at Steve with his brows furrowed.
“Uh, a friend.” Gag. “He just came by to say hi.”
“Doesn’t really look like someone you’d be down to hang out with.”
Eddie looks at him sceptically.
“Appearances aren’t everything, Daryl.”
He just laughs and shrugs.
Eddie counts the minutes until he gets off, rushing through checking out, rushing through a shower, rushing to his van, rushing to Steve’s.
The downstairs lights are on as he pulls the van into the driveway, and he pauses for a second to take a deep breath before he hops out and goes to the door.
It’s unlocked, and he steps inside, and there’s just enough time for him to shut the door behind himself before Steve is grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a harsh kiss.
Eddie lets out a surprised noise, catching Steve’s head between his hands, letting his mouth fall open, and Steve is kissing him like he’d die if he didn’t, hard and fast and hot, desperate.
Eddie groans loudly when Steve’s hand finds his neck, his palm pressing against his throat, and Steve pulls and pushes until Eddie’s back hits a wall. Eddie exhales sharply, grinning, sliding his hands to push his fingers into Steve’s hair, and he tugs. Steve lets out a whine, sucking on Eddie’s lip.
“Fuck,” Eddie gasps when they part to breath. “Thought I was supposed to be fucking you on a wall.”
“Then do it.”
Eddie shoves him, turning them so Steve hits the wall, and Steve is grinning, his eyes closed blissfully. Eddie kisses him hard, biting his lip, tugging his hair before moving a hand to hold his waist.
“Condom?” Eddie asks breathlessly, panting into Steve’s mouth. “Lube?”
“Back pocket.”
Eddie chuckles lowly, tugging his hair one last time.
“Slut.” Steve laughs, squeezing his neck as Eddie slides both hands to his ass, squeezing before he pulls the condom and bottle out. He kisses Steve again, licking into his mouth. “Turn around.”
“Take off your shirt first,” Steve says breathlessly. “Please.”
Eddie does, tossing the shirt away carelessly, and Steve stands away from the wall long enough to take his own shirt off, throwing it before he turns around, chest pressing to the wall.
“Fucking gorgeous, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, running a hand over his back before he leans down and licks a line up his spine. Steve exhales shakily.
“Eddie, please.”
Eddie beams, kissing the nape of his neck as he reaches around and undoes Steve’s jeans, tugs them down with his underwear, pushes the condom into his own pocket before he carefully starts to open Steve up.
“Christ, baby,” he says roughly. “So pretty.”
“Fuck, Eddie, come on.”
Eddie presses his other hand flat against Steve’s back, holding him against the wall firmly, and Steve groans loudly, pushing back against Eddie’s hand.
“So desperate, aren’t you,” Eddie says softly, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. Steve is nodding. “Didn’t even wanna wait for a bed. Want me right by the door.”
“Yes, Eddie, please.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut at the sound Steve makes when he finally pushes into him, holding onto Steve’s waist tightly. Steve groans, low in his throat, the sound broken in a sob.
“So noisy, Stevie,” Eddie says fondly, grinning against his back, slowly pulling his hips back before pushing back in.
“Eddie, hold my hand,” Steve whimpers. “Please, please, my hand—” Eddie takes his hand, twining their fingers and holding his hand against the wall, sliding his other hand to Steve’s belly and pressing, holding him tightly. “Shit, yes, yes—”
Eddie tilts his chin up and licks the side of his neck, and Steve moans softly, turning his face like he’s trying to look at Eddie over his shoulder, but his eyes are closed. Eddie kisses his jaw messily, licks his cheek.
“You like it in here?” he asks, his voice rough. “Right by the door?”
“Shit, yeah, yes.”
“Wall’s not uncomfortable?”
“Eddie, ‘s perfect, don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop. Want you in every room of this fucking house,” Eddie murmurs, moving faster. Steve bites his lip, his eyes squeezing shut, and he nods. His hand tightens on Eddie’s. “The kitchen, wanna eat you out while you’re bent over the counter.” Steve nods desperately, squeezing his hand. “The living room, in the shower.”
“My parents’ room,” Steve chokes, his voice wrecked. Eddie’s eyes widen, and he grins, fucking him harder.
“Yeah?” he says breathlessly. “Why there?”
Steve grunts, pushing back against Eddie, who presses against his belly harder.
“Spite.”
“God, I’m in love with you.”
Steve giggles, turning so his cheek presses against the wall.
“‘M in love with you too.”
“Where do you wanna do it?” He moves forward so his face is up close to Steve’s, and he licks a drop of sweat from his temple, just because. “In front of their mirror? Dresser? Their bed?”
“Fuck, yes, Eddie.”
“Yes, what? Which one?”
“All of it, fuck, want you everywhere.”
Eddie groans, moving so his chest presses to Steve’s back, fucking him until soft noises escape his throat with every movement.
“Want you in the pool someday,” he says roughly, his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “Want you all— all wet and shiny.”
Steve laughs breathlessly, throwing his head back.
“You’re kinky.”
“You’re the one that wants me to fuck you in your parents’ room.”
“Fuck, yeah.” Eddie laughs, his face pressing into Steve’s hair. “God, Eddie— Feel so— Feel so good.”
“Yeah?” He presses a messy kiss to Steve’s neck, grinning at the low moan that escapes him. “Tell me, sweetheart.”
“So deep,” Steve groans, taking a gasping breath that tells Eddie that he’s crying. “You make me feel so—“
He cuts off with another gasp, and Eddie squeezes his hand, sliding his other hand to his chest, pressing to his heart.
“So what, baby?”
Steve whimpers, pressing his ass back against Eddie with a weak moan.
“Beautiful,” he chokes. “You make me feel so pretty, Eddie.”
Eddie’s eyes burn. He presses a kiss to Steve’s shoulder, nuzzles his face into his neck, inhaling deeply and dragging his fingertips across Steve’s chest.
“You are beautiful, baby,” he murmurs. “Fucking everything about you, Stevie, my beautiful boy.”
Steve whines, turning his head to press his cheek to the wall. His eyes are closed, and there are tears falling over his flushed cheeks and caught in his eyelashes. He looks fucking holy.
“‘M your boy,” he says weakly, his voice broken. “‘M yours, Eddie, I’m—“
“My what boy?” Eddie prompts, breathless, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Fuck, beautiful.”
“Say the whole thing.”
“Eddie, I’m gonna come.”
“Say the whole thing.”
“Fuck, I’m— I’m your beautiful boy.”
Steve throws his head back with a sob when he comes, his whole body tensing, and Eddie grunts, biting the side of Steve’s neck as he follows him over the edge.
“Fuck,” Steve says harshly. Eddie hums softly, shifting to pull out, but Steve’s hand flies to his hip, holding him weakly. “Not yet. Please.”
“Okay,” Eddie breathes, kissing his neck gently. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” Steve says breathlessly. “You’re amazing.”
Eddie giggles, kissing his neck again.
“You’re amazing.”
Steve shakes his head, smiling over his shoulder at Eddie, who gently releases his hand to wipe his tears.
“You know, I never cried during sex before you.”
“Is that a good thing?“ Eddie asks softly, touching his face tenderly.
Steve sighs, reaching back to push his fingers into Eddie’s hair.
“‘S weird to say it feels good to cry, but…” Eddie kisses his neck again, holding him close. “It feels good. ‘S like a release.”
His eyes flutter open to find Eddie’s, glance down at his lips.
“I like it when you make me cry,” he murmurs, and Eddie scoffs.
“Freak.”
“Kiss me,” Steve says after a soft giggle. He does. “Round two in the shower?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
—————————
Eddie should have known this year was going too smoothly.
He’s been passing classes, which itself would be enough of a miracle for him to be satisfied, but he’s been making good money with deals at school, and he loves working at Morgan’s, and every campaign has been wildly successful, and he has a boyfriend that loves him.
But Eddie has never been the type of person that just gets things in life. Nothing is ever, ever handed to him. His aunt used to say it was God testing him, challenging his faith.
Well, consider it challenged, Aunt Laura.
He should have known it was all going to go to shit sooner or later.
Because now he’s hiding in his supplier’s boathouse, hidden under a tarp, trembling like a leaf, like a kicked dog, the sound of Chrissy Cunningham’s bones snapping echoing in his head.
He’s fucked.
Everyone’s going to think he did it. Because of course he did. Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, with his Satan club, and his loud music and his dumb fucking hair. Who else could it have been?
He doesn’t know how long he’s there, hiding, cowering. He wants to stay there forever, hidden away where no one can find him, no one can point fingers or blame him for something he’s almost entirely sure he didn’t do. (Maybe he lost his mind. He supposes it’s the only rational explanation for…)
His eyes fly open when he hears voices, voices he doesn’t really recognise because he doesn’t really feel like he’s in his body. He barely recognises his own hands.
He waits for a little while, listening and listening and listening, as the voices call his name, as they talk to each other. He wonders if they’re real too.
The voices get closer, and closer, and suddenly he’s slamming someone against a wall, broken bottle to their neck, and voices are shouting his name, and his eyes are brimming with tears. He can’t quite place the person he’s looking at, their face swimming and the shadows cast across it too dark.
They’re both breathing hard, and Eddie feels a little lightheaded, so he instinctively presses harder, but the person isn’t fighting him off, or yelling at him. They put their hand on Eddie’s, over the glass bottle.
Their skin is warm, and soft, they say his name quietly.
Eddie.
Eddie blinks hard, meeting their eyes as other voices are talking behind him. Their eyes are shining even in the darkness of the boathouse, lashes dark and long and pretty. Princess eyes.
“Steve?” Eddie chokes, and Steve nods slightly, his chin still tilted up because of the glass. His hand shifts on Eddie’s, brushing over his knuckles.
“Need you to drop the bottle,” he says quietly, and Eddie blinks again, his eyes flicking down to his neck, and he’s holding broken glass to his boyfriend’s neck.
Eddie practically jumps away, his hand flinging the glass to the ground as he gasps, looking up at Steve with watery, desperate eyes, but Steve just nods with a little, reassuring smile and puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“‘S okay,” Steve says softly, and there are more voices behind Eddie, but Eddie doesn’t turn. He just looks at Steve, wishing he’d tell him it was all just a dream, just a bad trip. Chrissy Cunningham is fine, at home in her nice house with her nice boyfriend, and nothing ever scared her enough to want Special K. Eddie’s trailer is fine, there aren’t any bloodstains in the floor or the ceiling, and Eddie can go home and drink a beer and go to bed, and everything’s fine.
Steve doesn’t say that.
“Can you guys give us a minute?” he says over Eddie’s shoulder, and there’s a small moment of resistance before it falls silent, and the door shuts, and Steve looks at Eddie with a soft, “Hey, baby.”
Eddie can’t talk. He can barely breathe.
“Hey,” Steve says softly. “I’m right here, come on.” He takes Eddie’s hand gently and holds it to his own chest, taking a deep breath and nodding when Eddie tries to copy him. “In all the way,” he says calmly.
He’s too calm.
He’s way too calm for the absolute shitshow that’s going on right now.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve says softly, sliding his other hand to Eddie’s neck and holding him gently. “Okay? I’m right here.”
“Steve—“
“You got it,” Steve murmurs. “Come here.” He gently pulls him over to sit down, which is probably a good idea because Eddie can’t really see, and his head feels like it’s spinning. “Slow, baby, it’s okay. In all the way. …And out.”
Steve is crouched on the floor in front of him, holding his face, and Eddie still can’t see, but now it’s because he’s crying again. He hasn’t cried in weeks.
“I know,” Steve is telling him. “I know, it’s gonna be okay.”
“She just wanted drugs,” Eddie chokes, his voice weak, and Steve nods. “I didn’t— I don’t-”
“I know.” Steve is too calm. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Eddie.”
“I’m gonna— They’re gonna arrest me, I’m—”
Steve shakes his head, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks, wiping his tears.
“That’s not gonna happen, Eddie,” he says firmly, looking into Eddie’s eyes. “Hey, listen. I’m not gonna let that happen, okay?”
“Steve—”
“We’re gonna figure this out, baby,” he says gently, nodding. Eddie takes a shuddering breath. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Steve holds his face and wipe his tears and leans up to kiss his forehead.
“We’re gonna figure it out,” he says quietly. “But we need to you to tell us what happened.”
Snap.
Eddie flinches. Whimpers. Like a kicked dog. (That’s all he is now. Maybe that’s all he’s ever been. All bark.)
“You’re okay,” Steve whispers, running his hands over Eddie’s head gently. “I’m right here, you’re alright.”
He presses their foreheads together, breathing deeply, and Eddie clutches at his wrists, trying and trying to breathe with him.
As his breathing evens out, the door creaks open, and Steve lifts his head to look, one of his hands pulling away, but it’s quiet until someone else is kneeling next to Steve, and Eddie opens his eyes.
“Hey,” Robin says softly. Her eyes are shining like they always are, but it’s different now. “You okay?”
He just looks at her, and there’s a pause before she answers herself.
“You will be.”
She says it’s confidently, firmly. Like he has no choice. He just nods.
“We’re gonna figure everything out,” she tells him, like Steve, and he nods again. “You need to tell us what happened.”
He exhale hard, swallowing thickly, and she reaches up to take his hand gently. He holds her hand tightly, shaking, and looks at Steve, eyes filling with tears again.
“You’re not gonna believe me,” he chokes.
Robin and Steve glance at each other. Robin’s hand tighten on his, steadying it.
“Why don’t you try us?”
They believe him.
Steve stays close while Eddie tells them everything, close enough for Eddie’s eyes to find him every time he gets short of breath, and Steve gives him little, encouraging nods, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, listening intently.
They tell him things. Things he doesn’t really want to hear, things that are almost more wild and insane than what he has to tell them. Things about monsters and flickering lights and an alternate, upside down dimension where everything is dark and covered in vines. Dustin uses D&D terms to explain things. Steve follows along.
Eddie wants to cry.
He just wanted to graduate.
—————————
He’s in Nancy Wheeler’s basement. He never thought he’d be here.
It’s cozy. Quiet. She says her parents never come down here. That he’s safe here.
Everyone falls asleep. Even Max. (And Dustin, who’s supposed to be on “Max watch,” but Eddie will take over for now.)
It’s quiet except everyone’s breathing. He looks around at them, at Nancy curled up with her hair in her face, at Lucas and Max, both facing each other and almost touching even if they still refuse to acknowledge their relationship.
It would be beautiful without the context of certain death.
Steve is awake when Eddie comes back from the bathroom. Eddie pauses, their eyes meeting across the dark room, and he leans against the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, watching Steve sit up sleepily.
Eddie beckons with a finger. Steve goes over to him.
“You okay?” Eddie asks quietly when he’s in front of him. Steve’s eyes are shining with anguish.
“God, I never wanted you involved in any of this, Eddie,” he says weakly, and Eddie nods. He can’t stop thinking about it, how Steve’s been a part of this world, how he’s fought monsters and survived, all while Eddie just lived obliviously.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, reaching out and taking Steve’s hand gently. “But it’s…”
“It’s not fine, Eddie,” Steve argues, and Eddie wants to smile at the fact that he knows him so well, that he knew what Eddie was going to say. “None of this is fine, you should— you should be at Morgan’s, or studying, or—“
“Stevie,” Eddie interrupts desperately, pulling at his hand until Steve steps closer. “You can’t do this to yourself, sweetheart, this is… This is happening. We can’t… torture ourselves thinking about what could be happening instead. Okay?”
Steve sighs, looking away, his eyes brimming with tears.
“When this is all over, though…” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. Steve looks at him, smiling weakly, and Eddie hesitates, remembering that he’s wanted for murder.
“We’ll figure it out,” Steve says softly. Knowing. “We know… We know some people in the government. They can get your charges dropped. It’ll be okay.”
Eddie nods, taking a deep breath.
“We just gotta get there,” Steve adds. “Okay?”
Eddie nods again. He glances around the room, scanning everyone’s sleeping bodies, before he reaches up and touches Steve’s chin, leaning in to kiss him as softly as humanly possible.
“I love you,” Steve breathes when they part, his thumb brushing Eddie’s hand gently. Eddie stares at him, biting his lip as he thinks, and Steve tilts his head.
“I— I wanted to ask you something,” Eddie says softly. Steve squeezes his hand.
“Okay.”
“I… was gonna wait until I graduated,” Eddie adds, choking on his words as his eyes burn. “But I don’t — I don’t know if that’s ever gonna happen, and I need something to look forward to after all this is over, and—”
“Eddie,” Steve says quietly, squeezing his hand. “What is it?”
Eddie stares for a moment longer.
“Do you wanna move in with me?” he asks finally. Steve’s eyes widen, and Eddie’s mouth is talking again before he can think. “Not— Not the trailer, I mean you can if you want, I know Wayne would like to have you around, but I was thinking, like— There are probably a bunch of car shops I can work at in Indianapolis or somewhere else, farther from Hawkins, or some music stores or something, and, I mean, you can work anywhere you want, but we can find a little apartment, and the kids can come visit, and if— if Robin wants to come, we can get a two-bedroom, and—”
Steve interrupts him with a kiss, reaching up with his other hand to hold Eddie’s face gently.
“I would love to live with you,” he says when they part, and Eddie exhales in relief, his shoulders falling. Steve smiles at him, kisses him again, wipes away a tear that falls over his cheek. “I can’t wait.”
Eddie closes his eyes, his head falling forward until it rests on Steve’s, and Steve sighs, sliding his hand to the back of Eddie’s head, into his hair.
“Wanna wake up to you every morning,” Steve murmurs. “Make you coffee and have dinner ready for you.”
“You wanna be my housewife or something?”
Steve scoffs lightly.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, I do.”
Eddie smiles and lifts his head to gaze at him.
“Can’t wait,” he whispers, then kisses him softly, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. Steve’s hand tightens on his head, his other hand squeezing Eddie’s. “I love you so much.”
“I’m gonna marry you someday,” Steve says, eyes closed, lips smiling. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, gripping Steve’s shirt tightly.
He knows they can’t do that. He’s thought about it plenty, every time he’s twisted paper or wire or thread into rings and silently slipped them onto Steve’s finger. Late at night with Steve sleeping across from him, the time Eddie had to gently clean dry blood from his face. While they’ve sipped coffee while watching some sports game with Wayne.
He’s wished Steve was a girl. And then he’s thought that that would be pointless, because Eddie’s gay, and then he’s wished then he wasn’t gay, and that Steve was a girl. It was all a big mindfuck mess that just resulted in him crying.
Crying because he’s gay and because Steve is a man. Crying because he can’t marry him, or hold his hand and kiss him out in public. Crying because he loves Steve, in a way that’s so normal and domestic and so painfully average, but so beautiful in a way that no one else can see. So beautiful it makes his stomach twist and chest ache, that it makes him cry.
“Promise?” he whispers. Steve smiles. Nods. Kisses him gently.
“Promise.”
—————————
The air feels oddly peaceful. The sun is out, and all Eddie can hear is Dustin’s laughter as he tackles him and reaches for the waistband of his underwear, grinning as Dustin screeches and tries to fight him off.
It’s probably the calm before the storm or whatever, Eddie thinks.
They’re both panting when Eddie lets go of him, tousling his hair roughly enough to make him giggle and stumble away from him, and he looks up to Steve.
Who’s already looking at him. Smiling, holding a glass bottle in his hands. Robin is talking to him, and Steve looks like he’s half listening, gazing back at Eddie. Eddie tilts his head, smiling softly.
“Go help the Sinclairs,” Eddie tells Dustin, picking up his trash can lid shield. Dustin nods, taking his own, flipping it over and looking at it proudly before trekking up the hill to meet them, and Eddie turns to go to Steve.
Robin sees him coming and snorts, slapping Steve’s shoulder and standing promptly.
“I’m gonna go visit Nance,” she says lightly.
“Yeah, you do that,” Steve says, and she shoots him a look at Eddie can’t quite read. Steve can read it, obviously. They can practically communicate just with eye contact. Eddie loves it.
He takes Robin’s seat, moves it closer to Steve just to press their knees together.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, taking a deep breath. He sets his shield in the grass. Steve looks at it.
“I’m okay,” he says softly, in a way that doesn’t sound very okay. “Just… I don’t know.”
“Talk to me.” Eddie watches the others. Nancy is showing Robin how to shoot the shotgun, standing behind her and adjusting her arms as Max watches. Steve is quiet for a moment.
“Robin said something that… I don’t know. Is stuck in my head.”
“What’s that?”
“She just… Said she has a bad feeling.”
Eddie looks at him. He looks tense, anxious, his eyes scanning the horizon like he’s looking for something.
“Tell her to shove that bad feeling up her ass,” Eddie says, and Steve scoffs, looking at him. “We’re gonna be fine.”
Steve stares at him.
His eyes soften, and he’s almost smiling, but not quite, and after a moment, he takes a breath, his lips parting to speak, but he doesn’t say anything.
“What is it?” Eddie asks softly. He can hear Robin laughing about something.
“I just…” Steve’s eyes flicker across his face. “I was gonna wait until everything was over to— to tell you, but…”
Eddie shifts to face him.
“Tell me what?” Steve hesitates, twisting the bottle in his hands, and Eddie’s stomach twists with it. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, ‘s just…” He takes a deep breath. “My parents are leaving. Hawkins. They’re moving. This summer,” he says choppily, anxiously, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “They decided they’re done with Hawkins and the curse or whatever, but…” He takes another breath and looks up at Eddie, his eyes shining nervously. “They’re leaving me the house.”
Eddie blinks. He might have emotional whiplash.
“They’re… leaving you?”
Steve sighs, turning to face him.
“Forget about them,” he says. “They’re leaving me the house. And— And money.” He’s looking at Eddie almost desperately. “I wanna move in with you, and I would love to move to Indianapolis or— or Boston or wherever someday, but I really wanna stay in Hawkins until the kids graduate and move wherever, and I thought…”
Eddie stares at him, and Steve drops the bottle, reaching over and grabbing his arm, holding him tightly.
“I was also gonna ask Robin to come, since she— she doesn’t get along with her parents, but I thought—” He cuts off to swallow, choking on his own voice. “You could have D&D in the basement. And we can have movie nights with all the kids, and Nancy can come over, and— and it’s secluded enough that no one will see you— I mean, we’ll get your charges dropped, but it’s still, like, safer, and you can bring your guitar and everything, and—”
“Steve,” Eddie interrupts weakly. Steve falls silent immediately, staring at Eddie, wide-eyed. “Yes.”
Steve exhales.
“Okay.”
Eddie smiled weakly.
“Where will we go after?” he asks softly. Steve tilts his head. “After the kids all grow up, and we… wanna get outta Hawkins.”
Steve shrugs.
“I’d be happy anywhere with you,” he says quietly. Eddie’s chest hurts. “We could just… take the van. Go everywhere. Or we could— we could sell the house, get a nice RV. Go on a road trip.”
“Where do you wanna go?”
Steve pauses, shrugging.
“We could go to a music festival,” he says, smiling, and Eddie beams. “See Sabbath or Metallica or whatever.”
Eddie’s eyes burn, and he squeezes them shut, swallowing, and after a moment, Steve’s lips press to his in a chaste kiss. Eddie opens his eyes, looking at him.
Steve takes a deep breath and lets go of Eddie’s arm.
“We’re gonna be okay,” Eddie says softly. Steve looks at him again. The sun is shining in his eyes, making parts of his irises look like they’re glowing, making his hair shine like gold. Eddie falls in love all over again.
He takes Steve’s hand. Gazes at it. Feels Steve watch him. Doesn’t care if the others see.
He brushes his thumb over Steve’s knuckles and thinks about marrying him.
Silently, he released Steve’s hand and looks at his own, twisting and sliding the ring off his left hand before he reaches for Steve’s again.
The ring is too big for his ring finger, but fits nicely on his index finger. Steve doesn’t say anything as Eddie slides it on, as he just holds his hand a moment and looks at it, touching it. When Eddie finally looks up at him, nerves bundling in his stomach, Steve’s eyes are brimming with tears, and he looks back at Eddie before looking away, swallowing.
He’s smiling. Eddie lifts his hand and presses his lips to his knuckles.
—————————
Eddie doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to let Steve out of his sight.
But he has to.
His eyes get caught on his ring on Steve’s fingers every time it flashes, shines in the light.
Steve’s eyes shine even in the Upside Down. His gaze is intense as he looks at Eddie, like he’s trying to say something without words.
“Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just...”
Eddie almost zones out while Dustin talks to him, snaps back into his body just to say that he and Dustin are not heroes.
And then Steve is turning away, starting to leave, and it’s like the world is crashing down around Eddie, and his chest is tight, and he’s saying Steve’s name before he can stop himself. Steve turns to look at him again, and Eddie can tell that he feels the same way, like the air is wrapped too tightly around him.
“…Make him pay.”
Steve stares back at him for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s, and then he’s stepping up close to him, and Eddie thinks for a second that he’s about to kiss him.
But he just presses two fingers into his chest, and Eddie forgets to breathe. Steve hesitates, his mouth opening with a soft breath, stammering, blinking hard in a way that means he’s trying not to cry.
“Come back to me.”
Eddie inhales, reaching up and holding Steve’s hand to himself for a moment. The ring is cold. He nods.
Eddie watches them go. Robin touches Steve’s back as they’re leaving, and even as he walks away, Eddie can see his should rise and fall as he takes a shuddering breath. Eddie swallows, balling his hands into tight fists and squeezing.
“What the hell was that?” Dustin asks.
Eddie exhales, relaxing his hands and shaking them slightly.
“Ask me that again when we’re not facing certain death.”
Dustin is quiet, and after a few moments Eddie turns to look at him. He’s staring at him, an odd, unreadable look in his eyes, and Eddie knows he’s figuring it out.
“…Okay.”
—————————
It’s so cold.
It doesn’t even hurt anymore. He’s just trembling, shivering, clutching weakly at Dustin’s jacket as Dustin holds him and cries. Shakes him. Yells his name.
“‘M okay,” Eddie says softly. “‘S fine, Henderson.”
He’s losing consciousness. He doesn’t want to. He tries not to, squeezing his hand on Dustin’s jacket, taking a ragged breath, but he can barely feel it, and his eyes fall shut.
When he opens them, Steve is hovering over him, tears streaking down his face, but his brows are furrowed, lips pursed in focus, and he wrapping something around Eddie’s waist tightly as Dustin does the same to Eddie’s arm. And Eddie feels like he’s on fire.
He lets out a wail, a scream, and his voice is rough and ragged and raw, and he can just hear Steve’s soft, “I know, baby, I know.”
“Fuck, it hurts,” Eddie cries. Steve nods, tying the fabric off tightly, and Eddie sobs.
“I know, I know, I know.” Steve is breathing hard, muttering under his breath, and Nancy’s voice calls Robin’s name sharply.
Steve moves, grabbing Eddie’s bandana off his head and shifting so he’s holding Eddie, pressing the bandana to his cheek. Eddie whimpers in pain. The salt of his tears hurts his skin.
“I’ve got you,” Steve is murmuring, crying. “You’re fine, Eddie, it’s okay, it’s just… We just need to get you to a doctor, it’s gonna be fine—”
“Steve,” Eddie says weakly, lifting a hand. Steve takes it, the ring clicking against Eddie’s. His hands are covered in blood. Eddie’s blood.
“You’re okay, baby, it’s fine, it’s just— It’s the same as mine, right? We’ll have matching scars.” Steve’s voice is trembling.
“Stevie.” Eddie exhales shakily. Coughs. His mouth tastes like metal. “I love you.”
“Stop,” Steve says, his voice thick. His tears are landing in Eddie’s face, in his dirty hair. “Don’t— Don’t do that, you’re gonna be fine, Eddie.” He sobs, clutching at Eddie’s hand. Eddie tries to squeeze back. He can’t. “Robin, help!”
“I love you so much,” Eddie murmurs.
“Stop, Eddie, you’re okay,” Steve cries. He’s squeezing Eddie’s hand so tightly it almost hurts. “You’re gonna be fine, baby, I promise.” He’s leaning over Eddie, his shoulders shaking as he sobs. Eddie reaches up with his other hand. Touches his face. His cheek and lips. Wipes his tears.
“My beautiful boy,” he breathes. He lets his eyes close, and Steve’s hand touches his face, shaking him.
“Eddie!.”
“‘M just…” Eddie takes a breath. “‘M just resting my eyes.”
“No, you’re fucking not.”
Eddie laughs weakly, coughing, forcing his eyes open to find Steve above him. There’s blood on his face, and Eddie realises his hand has fallen.
“I love you.”
“Don’t do that, Eddie.”
“Just say it back, Stevie. Please.”
Steve chokes, squeezing his eyes shut, and more tears fall down his face, leaving tracks in the dirt and blood on his skin.
“I love you so much,” he says weakly, his voice thin, and Eddie smiles at him. “I love you so much, Eddie, I love you.”
Eddie exhales and drifts. His eyes find them sky above them. It’s dark, and cloudy, and he can’t find the sun anywhere. He wonders if he should have listened to Aunt Laura, if God is really waiting for him. If he should have tried harder. (But he’s tried so hard, he really has. And he’s tired.) But he’s surrounded by the dead bodies of demon bats, and Max might be dead, and he wants to cry because he doesn’t know. If God is real, he isn’t watching them.
The world is darkening, and it smells like ash and blood and his throat is dry, and he’s dying in the arms of the man he loves, somewhere God can’t see.
His eyes close. He can’t open them. Steve is crying.
He wonders if this is death, if he’s stuck in his body, silent and unmoving, forever, but he realises that he’s not dead. He’s still breathing. He knows because it hurts.
He’s barely conscious of his body being moved, lifted, pushed and pulled, of the sound of people around him crying and yelling.
And then the world falls silent.