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Steve hurts.
He hurts most days.
His pulse rings behind his eyes, and his fists are clenched tight, knuckles white. A drop of sweat runs down his temple.
Fuck
The ceiling fan above, mocks him.
He has to pick up the kids in 20 minutes, but he’s not even sure he can stand right now, with his stomach churning like it is.
Ok. Ok he can do this. Steve rises slowly, getting his bearings.
This room smells like dust. He hates it.
Blankets are nailed above the windows haphazardly, all of the lights’ chords unplugged and discarded. No one in here would know what time of day it is, wouldn’t know if it even is day. Steve likes it better that way. The sunlight hurts his eyes when the migraines get really bad. And almost none of the lights in the house are plugged in.
If there aren’t lights, they can’t flicker.
Steve swings his legs to the ground, and glances at his feet, looking for the nails peeking out from under his bed. The bat is there- it’s always there- but he likes to remind himself of that. He stands, gingerly, with his hand on the bed to combat any swaying.
Chronic traumatic encephalopathy. That’s what the fancy government doctors called it. Essentially, he was hit in the head too many times and now he’s fucked. Getting the shit beat out of you repeatedly will do that, apparently.
He puts on a new shirt, a yellow polo (the last one sweat through) and makes his way downstairs, grabbing his keys. The whole house smells like dust. He hates it. He sees it over framed photos, and on the kitchen counter, and he hates it. Opening the door is like being shot, he thinks. The sun glares at Steve, and he sees white from the blinding pain for a few moments.
The migraine is really bad today. Robin had talked his ear off in the early shift, and one of the customers had a particularly shrill voice. That and some beer he had last night, sent him over the edge. The drinking makes it worse, he knows it does. But some nights, he can’t sleep without it.
He starts the car, and makes his way over to the Wheeler house. It feels weird being there for a reason that isn’t Nancy. He had thought they were going to get together during Vecna, but once the real world seeped its way back into their lives, he realized that at this point, they were two completely different people. They don’t make sense anymore, and Steve has grown enough as a person to admit that. The bout of misjudgement had apparently helped Nancy see things more clearly though, and he thinks her and Johnathan broke up soon after that. None of that makes pulling up to her house two months later less weird.
As he makes his way into the house, his hands shake a bit. He can’t remember most of the drive over, but it’s ok. He promised he’d get the kids, he can do this. None of the party really knocks anymore, so he just follows the obnoxiously loud voices until he descends to the basement.
“I’m telling you Mike, we can’t go after the dragon. We’re not even level ten yet.”
“What are you even saying, you’re Circle of the Moon man you have like a thousand health!”
“It’s RED MIKE, RED.”
The ache behind his eyes rears its ugly head again. Just the sight of him shuffling down the stairs gets the kids to barrage him.
“Steve, no not yet, we have to discuss this before we go.”
“We’re ALMOST done.”
“One more minute man, seriously.” Lucas pops in with.
They were all huddled around a large wooden table, dice everywhere and papers strewn about.
“No- no no no. You guys said 4:30.” Steve checks his watch. “It’s like 4:45, we’re going. Pick up your shit.”
They start to protest, but go silent when Eddie speaks up,
“Now now, you heard the king. Get your stuff. You can decide what you wanna do on the ride home” Steve bristles a bit at ‘king’ but tries not to show it. Eddie smirked a bit, like he knew he got under Steve’s skin. He’s laid back against his chair, dark hair spilling across his shoulders in unkempt curls. His arms are crossed over his chest where he wears a plain black T-shirt. It’s riding up, showing dark hair, trailing down and- nope, no. Steve wrenches his gaze back up and the boy, whose lopsided grin has gone a little more feral. God, Steve can’t be blamed for this, he’s too out of it.
Eddie. Eddie was Steve’s…friend? He thinks? He wasn’t quite sure where they stood actually. They didn’t exactly have much in common, but saving the world works wonders for bonding. They try to be nice to each other, they hang out in groups, sometimes they’d even bum cigarettes off eachother. That was kind of it. Occasionally, they’d both bite out snide remarks, but Steve is working on that, or trying to at least. There’s something about Eddie that always gets under his skin. He demands attention, whether bad or good. Eddie looks nice now, happier than Steve had seen him in school. The government made sure he graduated (on paper at least). Steve barely graduated high school. Definitely wouldn’t have if his head was like it is now. These days, his memory is shot, and he can’t even read for very long. Steve’s still happy for him (even if he’d never admit that).
The kids look a bit dejected, but eventually, start to pack. Steve pretends he doesn’t hear the muttering under their breath. His head rings now loudly, and the lights in the basement hurt to look at. He was vaguely aware of being asked a question.
“Sorry? Huh?”
“I asked if you were ok man.” Eddie was now much closer, Steve didn’t register he had gotten up. The smile is gone. Why? He looks vaguely worried, eyebrows pushed together. It’s kind of sweet. No- no, that’s not the right word, but he can’t think straight right now. His vision starts narrowing.
“Oh yeah dude-” He starts to reply. Eddie is closer now. “I’m fine… just a bit of a heada-…”
His knees give out. So much for playing it cool. He’s vaguely aware of not hitting the ground. His vision is completely gone at this point. He doesn’t miss it. Someone has their arms around him. He thinks it’s Eddie. He’s stronger than Steve thought. Steve is put in a chair, or he thinks he is. Everyone is yelling, but he doesn’t understand any of it. They’re too loud. He thinks he completely blacks out from the pain for a few seconds, resting on the back of the chair, but can’t tell. The pounding is unbearable.
“Harrington! Jesus, what? Are you alright?” He thinks it’s Eddie speaking. He sounds worried. Very worried. Fuck, this is embarassing.
As time goes on, he’s getting a bit better. More of his vision is back, but he knows the pains aren’t going away any time soon. The kids still scream in concern.
“Oh my god is he alright?!”
“Is he gonna die?” Dustin, ever the extremist.
“Damn.” Thank you for the input, Erica.
“STEVE. STEVE WHAT-” Mike looks like he’s about to rupture a blood vessel.
He tries to focus on Eddie. He’s crouched in front of Steve now.
“Yeah yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, just- Loud.” Steve is sweating a lot, that’s gross. He just changed shirts.
“Hey, hey. Upstairs, all of you. Now.” Eddie is turned toward them now.
“WHAT, BUT HE-” They immediately protest.
“Now, or I’ll TPK.” That seems to get their attention, whatever the fuck it means. They start leaving, not without protest. Once they’re behind the door, their voices muffle thank god. Eddie seems to see Steve wincing from the light, and moves quickly to turn it off. Steve could hug the guy right now in gratitude, but it hurts to move too much.
“What’s happening man, are you ok?” His voice is soft. It works around the pain smoothly.
“Yeah I just uh… get these headaches.”
“One hell of a ‘headache’. Do you need anything?”
“Nah, I just gotta sit here for a few minutes, then I’ll take the kids home.” He’s never seen Eddie like this before. Serious. Of course, apart from their time in the Upside Down. It’s nice, he thinks.
“Ha!” Well, that moment is over. Eddie laughs like Steve said something outrageous, “Yeah, no. That’s not happening. You can’t drive right now, man.” Steve’s too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, so he just stares at the rips in Eddie’s jeans. The black denim frays at his knee caps, where he’s crouched down. Eddie continues, “I’m going to drive the kids home, and I’ll drop you off at your house while I’m doing it.”
Please god not there
Maybe it’s the physical breakdown that makes him feel more emotional, but God, he thinks if he smells the dust right now, he’ll throw up.
“My car is here, man. I have work tomorrow.” his voice cracks, and he feels too vulnerable, too exposed as he whispers in a small voice, “I don’t wanna go back to my house, please. Maybe- Maybe you can take me to Joyce’s or something- or or-“
Eddie’s face grows soft. His eyebrows pinch together again, making a small wrinkle as he puts a hand on Steve’s knee. It’s warm. Grounding. “Ok, it’s ok. How about this, you can sleep at my place, and I’ll drive you back here tomorrow.” Steve doesn’t respond for a few moments, and Eddie swoops in to fill the silence, “That is, if you can handle roughing it. You see, my butler is on vacation, and we ran out of caviar last tuesday.” It’s obvious he’s trying to lighten the mood. Take the attention off of whatever the fuck it was that just came out of Steve’s mouth. Steve lets him.
He lets out a weak chuckle, “Cut it out man, I’ll come.” Eddie seems too proud of that joke, grinning maniacally. Steve’s happy to go to Munson’s. Anything is better than that house.
“Now I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you will have to suffer with the children in the car for a few minutes.”
“Dear god, just kill me now.”
Eddie helps Steve get up, holding him until he’s confident Steve won’t keel over, and they climb the stairs.
When they open the door, half of the kids (Lucas, Will, and Erica) are debating on whether or not Steve is ok, and the other half (Dustin and Mike) have their hands cupped to the bottom of the door, listening. They scramble to get out of the way fast. “Alright, listen up. Steve isn’t feeling well. He has a migraine. I’m driving all you losers home.” Steve has always been kind of jealous of Eddie’s ability to get their attention.
Mike pipes up, “But we were gonna go to the arca-” Lucas elbows him to get him to stop talking. Steve is grateful for it.
They pile in the car. Eddie opens Steve’s door for him with a dramatic bow, “Your chariot awaits.” With a huff, Steve gets in. The van is beat up, and his seats have rips in them, exposing a bright yellow foam. It’s comfortable.
The drive to drop off the kids is mostly uneventful. Steve is getting a bit better with every passing minute, and only just now is the mortifying embarrassment really seeping in. Jesus, he couldn't even keep it together for 5 minutes. The kids have largely moved on from the fainting, and if Steve had any energy left in him, he’d probably be offended. At least Dustin still sneaks worried glances at him. That’s why he’s the favorite.
When the last shrimp exits the vehicle, the ride is mostly silent. It feels like there’s a brick wall of tension and apprehension between the two. They haven’t been alone together for a while. Probably since their time in the Upside Down. It’s obvious they don’t know how to talk to each other. Steve wishes it was as easy as starting a conversation with Robin. It would probably be easier if either of them made any sort of effort. The silence is suffocating. Eddie doesn’t put on any music, which Steve is grateful for. Eddie taps his fingers on the wheel to a song in his head, and Steve watches him drum on the leather. Eddie wears so many rings, one or multiple on almost every finger. The thumb ring was really big. How was that practical?
Eddie breaks the silence first, “So,” Steve quickly tears his gaze up to Eddie’s face. He’s obviously uncomfortable “This ‘headache’ thing? Has this been going on for a while?”. Not the best attempt at small talk, but Steve will take it.
Steve sighs, and stares out the windshield, “Yeah um. It’s called like Chronic traumatic ence- something something. I’ve had a lot of concussions, and the fight with Vecna really shoved me over the edge. So right now, my brain is kinda scrambled. These headaches happen a lot. It’s fine. They don’t usually get that bad, but I had some drinks last night, so…” Eddie nods like he understands. “Um, thank you. For driving me and the kids and stuff. Probably not on your agenda.”
“I mean, who am I if not loyal to my king?” It was that tone again. The one that subtly lets Steve know he’s being taunted. Not teasing or light hearted. Maybe under other circumstances, Steve would trade insults with Eddie, and spit
some vitriol back at him. But, he’s just tired. Steve doesn’t respond.
God, they were just getting along.
Eddie notices Steve bristle, “Sorry, sorry. That was shitty.”
Steve’s head throbs a bit at the back, but it isn’t glaring, so he decides they might as well have this conversation now. “No, you’re right, it’s fine. I just… I was an asshole in highschool. I know I was. You have every right to say that, it’s just hard to hear it sometimes.”
Steve was a dick in highschool. He’s come to terms with that. He’s still is a bit of a dick now. He’s self aware at least. Even if he had done nothing to Eddie in highschool, he was silent while others did. He deserved the title, and if it meant having the word ‘King’ spat back at him by the people who suffered from his ‘rule’, that was fine. He deserved that at least. He was trying to be better. He wishes he could be better. Eddie is talking before he can finish.
“No, Steve, really. I’m sorry. That was fucked. You’re different now- I know you’re different. I shouldn’t have said that. Especially not while you’re hurting. You didn’t even do anything specific to me, it’s just… old habits die hard, ya know?.” Eddie’s face is turned towards Steve now, the right side of his black hair is tucked behind his ear. His right hand is waving around while he talks, obviously fidgeting in the tense atmosphere. His eyebrows were scrunched together again. Are his ears pierced?
“Uh.. yeah. Yeah thanks.” Jesus, did his brain just short-circuit?
At around this time, they pull up to the trailer park. Eddie Munson’s trailer is nice. New. The government replaced the old one after Vecna. This one has two rooms for Eddie and Wayne. Around the edges though, Steve could see remnants of red spray paint, hastily painted over. He knows Eddie is still hated by most of the town, despite it being proved he was completely innocent. Steve sometimes wishes he could get to the highest building and shout from the rooftops about all of the things they’ve done for this town. All of the things they’ve survived.
He knows he’d be shot before he could reach the second floor.
“Alright Harrington, Me kaysa ess you kaysa”
“Ok, I failed Spanish, but I’m positive that isn’t even close to how you say it, man.”
“Whatever” Eddie leaves the van with a little grin on his face and tips his head up to the sky. There’s a storm coming. It’s probably best that the kids got home when they did. The sun is blocked out by clouds covering almost the whole sky. Steve never really liked storms. He was scared of them growing up. His parents hated it when he cried though. The fear of storms dissipated as he grew up, but now they always left him feeling a bit alone. “You want something to eat?” It brings his attention back to the conversation. And the fact that Steve’s still sitting in the car staring at Eddie like a dumbass.
Once Steve makes it out of the van (all on his own thank you very much) he and Eddie make their way up the stairs of the makeshift porch. He is a bit hungry.
“Yeah, I could probably eat.”
—-
The inside of the trailer is nice. Simple. Lived in. It smells like weed. Steve doesn’t mind.
He fully expects Eddie to pull out some stale cereal, or a frozen pizza. He does neither of these things. First he sits Steve down at the couch, then moves to busy himself in the kitchen, getting food prepared. Before getting started, a large glass of water is placed in front of Steve on the coffee table.
“Drink up, pretty boy, gotta stay hydrated.” Steve raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the nickname, which Eddie cackles at. Steve feels his face get warm all the same, but covers it by downing his drink.
Eddie makes hamburgers. Not with frozen patties either, real shit. He even makes this orange creamy sauce to go along with it. It tastes like heaven.
“Jesus, Munson, how’d you learn to cook like this?” He says with a full mouth. He chows down on his hamburger while talking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His head is feeling so much better, only a small ache in front of his right ear bothers him.
“A good magician never reveals his secret, Stevie. And I am the greatest magician of them all.” Eddie’s hamburger is already done, and he’s stacking dishes into the sink to be cleaned later. Steve only stares back questioningly, which Eddie snorts at, but keeps talking. “My parents never cooked. Never did anything really. Had to learn by myself.”
“I get that” Steve tries to keep it short, not one to go complaining about his own home life when Eddie seems to have been through worse, but Eddie turns his head from the dishes with a curious, if not unbelieving eyebrow. So Steve looks down at the round wooden table and explains.
“I- uh…haven’t seen my parents since I was 17. That’s when they moved out officially. Left me the house.” The clattering of dishes stops, but Steve doesn’t look up, too nervous about sharing his own story. “They…um, they go on trips a lot. For work. It’s not their fault really, it's easier for their career when they’re in the city.” it’s a weak excuse, even to his own ears, “they just have a lot of things to do, so when I was 10, they started leaving me at home. They came back every once in a while, probably once a week.” He doesn’t know why he’s still talking. Why the fuck is he still talking, “but it got less as I got older. I learned to cook as a kid- almost burned the house down once.” Steve lets out a chuckle, tracing the wood grain under his finger. Eventually the silence becomes too much and he looks up at Eddie.
Eddie has turned away from the dishes and toward Steve, face etched in what only can be seen as empathy. That’s one thing Steve likes about Eddie, his emotions are always so clearly painted on his face. Steve never has to guess what he’s feeling.
“I’m sorry Steve.”
Steve laughs again, but it comes out less light hearted than he means it too. “Listen, I grew up rich. I wasn’t exactly left wanting for things. It’s not that big of-“
“They still should have been there. You don’t deserve that.” Eddie’s serious again, and he says the words like he actually means them, without the theatrics he usually parades around. Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just stares at Eddie.
“My- uh…” Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look uncomfortable, “My parents were criminals. Dad was a piece of shit, so he got locked up when I was 7. My mom was an addict. Wayne took me in when I was 11. It’s been nice. But I know what it’s like to grow up without anyone there. It sucks, so I’m sorry.” They don’t do this. They aren’t ever vulnerable with each other like this, but then again, they’ve never hung out alone before. Tonight’s a night of firsts.
Steve wants to point out that Eddie’s childhood was obviously much more difficult, even from the limited details he gave. He feels like a douche for complaining about his own home life while Eddie had to go through so much more. But he doesn’t want to make the conversation about himself any more than he has, so he nods, “Thanks. I’m sorry too.” Eddie nods back with a small smile.
Steve knows that something’s changed about their relationship now. Maybe just a common ground beyond fighting tooth and nail together. He likes the change.
——
Later, Steve helps with the dishes, and they share small stories with each other, passing dishes with soapy hands and easy smiles. Eddie’s hands are bigger than his, he realizes. Steve gets a jealous pit in his stomach. Why would he be jealous of that? He’s never cared about that stuff.
“- I swear to God, Rob pissed her pants, I’m not making this up.”
Eddie’s hunched over the last dish cackling. “Dude she’d kill you if she knew you were telling me this.”
Steve puts his dried hands on his hips, “It’s a good thing she’ll never find out, right Munson?”
Eddie plays along, “Hmm…I don’t know Harrington, what do I get out of this exchange?”
“Easy, I won’t tell Nancy you’ve been dealing to Jonathan.”
Eddie seems actually surprised by this, his ever expressive eyebrows flying up, “You wouldn’t.”
Steve grins, having the upper hand, “Oh, but I really would.”
Eddie mulls it over, working his jaw and putting the last of the mixed-matched dishes in the cupboard. “Fine, my lips are sealed” He mimes zipping his mouth shut.
Once Eddie’s hands are dried, he walks into his bedroom. Steve hears rustling and banging for a bit. Eddie returns seconds later with a joint in his fingers. “Hey, you mind if I go outside to smoke this? It’s gonna start raining pretty soon.”
Steve eyes the joint. “If you let me join, then yeah.” It’s been a couple of years since he’s smoked weed, but he doesn’t tell Eddie this.
Eddie gets a scrunch between his eyebrows, that concerned look is back again, and Steve patiently waits as Eddie assesses him. “Listen, I don't know. You know I’m not opposed to sharing, but is it a good idea with your head? Maybe you should rest up.” He’s worried about me.
Steve tries to look more alive, healthier than he’s sure he appears right now. He saw the glimpse of the circles under his eyes this morning, and he’s aware that his body’s in rough shape. “Oh come on, don’t go getting soft on me now, Munson. Plus isn’t this stuff supposed to be a natural remedy? It’ll probably help.”
Eddie wavers as if unsure, but relents with a sag of his shoulders and leads Steve out onto the small porch area.
The sky is a dark gray, which isn’t a good sign. It’s not even 6:00. He smells the rain soon to come and feels the electricity in the air, making the hair on his arms stand up. Steve is glad for the overhang above them. It looks like it’s going to pour at any second.
Eddie takes his place on the far side of his porch swing, lazily rocking it with his feet. There’s no other furniture out here so Steve plops down on the other side. There’s only about a foot between the two of them. Steve watches the rips in Eddie’s jeans, where his knobby knees pop out. Did he buy them like that? Fuck he needs to be high right now. His brain is all out of wack.
At that moment, he looks up to see Eddie holding the joint out to him. Steve takes it and turns it over. It’s huge. That’s fine. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s pretending to be nonchalant about this stuff.
“We don’t need to smoke all of it if you don’t want to.” Ok, maybe he’s worse at it than he thought.
“Nah, it’s cool. Just admiring your work.”
Eddie chuckles airily, like he knows it’s a lie. “Well, I do it for a living so…”
Steve doesn’t have a lighter, but Eddie pulls one out of his pocket. It’s a blue, small thing. Steve goes along and holds the joint up to his mouth as Eddie puts the flame on the tip. They hold eye contact. The flame is reflected in Eddie’s irises. Steve inhales cautiously and tries to hold the smoke in his lungs.
He fails and it comes sputtering out with wheezy coughs.
Eddie is cackling to his side and Steve’s face warms up with embarrassment. “Cut me some slack, man it’s been a minute.” They go back and forth sharing the joint. Eddie smokes most of it, and they both sink into the swing as Eddie rocks it back and forth. The thunder rumbles in the distance. Steve is relaxed for the first time in weeks.
- -
Steve is a loose high. Eddie watches the tension in his shoulders drop as he smokes more. He’s still coughing every minute or so, but trying to cover it up. God it’s cute. He lets himself stare at Steve’s crooked nose, broken from endless fights no doubt. He doesn’t usually let himself indulge in Steve Harrington’s charms, but sue him, he’s high and happy to look at Steve’s pretty face. He didn’t even consider them friends until about 20 minutes ago. Oh, how the times change.
If he’s being honest with himself (in ways he can really only do when he’s high) he thinks that half of the insults he lobs at Steve are because Eddie hates himself for liking the guy. The epitome of all he’s sworn to hate being kind? Being selfless? Being funny? (Being pretty?) No. He can’t handle that. So he keeps space by making fun of Steve’s hair, or the way he stands with his hands on his hips, or the way he dotes on the kids like a mother.
As he ashes the roach, the rain finally starts pouring down. Eddie doesn’t miss Steve’s small flinch every time the thunder booms. “Well, that’s our cue, Sunshine.” Eddie rises, his head a bit heavier than it was before, and his mood a bit more floaty. He can handle his weed. Steve on the other hand.
He has this stupid little grin on his face at nothing, and his eyes are half mast. Eddie reaches down to help him up, and Steve grabs it. Eddie has to pull most of his weight to get him standing, and Steve overshoots, stumbling into Eddie’s chest. Eddie wraps arms underneath his armpits and keeps him steady. “Alright big boy, I think someone smoked a little too much.” Steve just giggles into Eddie’s shoulder, and tries to right himself. They stumble their way inside, rain coming down harder than ever.
“Y’know you’re not so bad, Munson, I don’t care what Lucas says about you.”
That baffles him as he’s closing the front door, “What?! What does Lucas say about me?!” All Steve responds with another high pitched laugh.
Oh, he’s just fucking with him.
“You know that’s not very nice, Stevie. Especially after I so graciously shared my stash with you.”
“Stop being so easy to rile up then, man.” Steve replies with a sly grin, “Honestly it’s too easy sometimes.”
“Hey, at least I’m not the one with ketchup still on his face.” Hearing Steve's affronted gasp and watching him swipe at his mouth makes the dumb joke worth it. Eddie tries to keep a poker face, but can’t after a few seconds. Steve catches on quick. The red flush to his face satisfies something deep in Eddie. No. He can’t be thinking these things about Harrington for christ’s sake.
“Ha, fucking, ha, Munson”
“Honestly, it’s too easy sometimes.” Eddie parrots back at him with a snarky grin.
Eddie moves to the cabinets in the ‘kitchen’ to grab some snacks for the both of them. His back is turned to Steve, who leans up against the counter for a bit before speaking up, “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“What, get high in a trailer park?” Would Steve like Jiffy Pop? Probably not.
“No dude, just like… I don't know- Talk.”
Oh. Alright, Eddie can admit, he hasn’t been Steve’s biggest fan. I mean they were friends, but in the weirdest sense. They’d probably die for eachother, but on the same hand, they wouldn’t have chosen to hang out with each other unless the world was ending. Eddie knows he’s been a bit of an ass towards Steve. They had gotten rid of that ‘enemies’ or ‘rivals’ shit in the upside down, but that didn’t mean they were close, or that they had anything in common. So Eddie had kind of… reverted to his old ways of making fun of jocks and the status quo. He finds a package of Doritos and goes to pull out a bowl.
It takes Eddie a minute to pull his thoughts together from the weed, “Yeah…I think I may have to take a bit of that blame-“
Steve immediately starts countering it, “No, man. It’s not your fault, I haven’t exactly been nice… I’ve been an ass actually. But I’m glad we’re talking now. Maybe we can start putting this shit behind us, ya know? I think it’d be good for the kids if we’re able to get along.” So he’s chatty when he’s high (cute). “Maybe even be friends? I mean if you’re okay with that, I don’t wanna like assu-“
The lights flicker.
On and off, a quick blink. And then another.
Only a couple times, but the damage is done. Eddie freezes where he is, his back towards Steve for a few seconds, shoulders tight and spine rigid. The lights go out sometimes in the trailer park, their electricity isn’t as stable. And during a big storm, they would flicker frequently. Still, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid to turn around and see if Steve’s eyes had gone a milky white. He steels himself anyways, turns towards Steve and-
Steve.
Steve has a knife in his hand. A big one. The one Eddie used to cut the lettuce for the hamburgers. It’s still wet. Eddie must have left it on the counter while talking after dinner. Steve’s whole body is trembling, and his eyes are wide and bloodshot. He’s looking in every direction as if ready for a fight. Eddie moves slowly around the counter,
“Steve? Steve, it’s ok. It’s just the storm. It happens all the ti-“
Eddie is suddenly being pushed back into the corner of the kitchen. Steve steels himself in front of Eddie, with his knife pointed towards the door. Ever the fucking protector. Thunder rolls outside, and the sound of rain on the roof is loud in his ears. The lights flicker once more. Steve flinches hard, almost drops the knife. All Eddie can hear is his ragged breathing.
“Steve- Steve look at me.” Steve stays pointed towards the door. So Eddie places his left hand on the yellow polo, and reaches around with his right, moving until he can grab Steve’s wrist. Eddie's face is over his shoulder now, he can smell the boy’s cologne. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Steve’s arm is still pointed out towards the door, knife wobbling in his violently shaking hand. Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist gently but firmly. “Steve, it’s the storm buddy. It’s just the storm. It’s ok, we’re safe. He’s dead.”
Eddie then moves his hand so it covers Steve’s and gently tries to take the knife away. It goes easily. Steve is still breathing heavily. The boy's arm drops to his side, head tucked. Eddie maneuvers out from behind him, placing the knife on the kitchen counter as he moves in front of Steve.
Steve speaks for the first time since the power flickered. His gaze is still firmly on the floor tile. “I’m- I’m sorry. Are you- God are you ok? I didn’t- I just, I thought, fuck I’m so high man. I don’t know-“ He’s scrubbing at his face now.
Eddie puts both hands on Steve’s biceps, pressing into the material there. “Shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, you don’t have to explain. It’s fine, promise. But we’re safe.” That’s when Steve looks up.
And Eddie is fucked. God, he is so fucked.
Because Steve’s eyes are watery and red, and his nose is pink, and fuck if Eddie doesn’t want to just take care of him. Hold him and all that other mushy shit. Eddie wants to wipe under the boy’s eyes with his thumbs and plant gentle kisses all over his face until he calms down. Wants to put Steve’s head in the crook of his neck and rock them back and forth. Goddamnit he cannot have a crush on Steve Harrington. Eddie settles for pulling him into a hug, and if he holds Steve a little too softly, well that’s no one’s business but his own.
Steve puts his face into Eddie’s shoulder and they stay like that for minutes. When the lights flicker once more and Steve twitches, Eddie just holds him tighter. They wait a few minutes there as the storm dies down.
They sit in silence for a minute, listening to each other’s breath.
Then Steve starts laughing into Eddie’s shoulder. It’s soft at first, but grows as if Steve can’t control himself. Huh? Eddie turns his head into Steve’s incredulously, “Dude? What the fuck are you laughing at?” Steve continues for a few seconds before murmuring, “My headache is gone.” They both start giggling like children now and pull apart. Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder gently as they separate.
“Alright, how about we watch a movie huh?”
—-
Eddie puts on The Thing to make fun of. It’s an easy laugh. Once you’ve seen real horror, the fake stuff just looks funny. Steve is still a bit quiet, and Eddie expected that, so he does most of the talking. Eddie’s good at that. Filling silence with words. He used to be insecure about it, but now he’s grown to like it as a part of himself. Eddie’s arm is rested on the back of the couch. Steve sits about 3 feet from him on the other side. It’s a bit nice to just exist with Steve. Every time they were in the same room before, it felt like they contested for space- for attention. Now, they just exist as themselves. Not quite in harmony, but something that’s on its way to it.
When the movie ends, Eddie pats his legs and stands up. It’s dark out now. “Listen I know it’s early, but we should probably hit the hay. I suspect you’ve had a long day.” Steve nods,
“Yeah, sure sounds good to me” It’s obvious Steve is still uncomfortable. Probably embarrassed. Eddie can see it in the way he fidgets with his hair and picks at his nails. Just now, Eddie sees how rough Steve looks. He’s got dark circles under his eyes the size of texas, and he’s lost weight. His cheeks are a bit more gaunt now, and the tanned skin he had is pale and sickly almost. He wasn’t looking for it before, but sure is now, and can’t help wondering how no one’s noticed. No one’s intervened. Eddie will though. Once he can get Steve to trust him.
“You know, the first time the lights flickered after Vecna, I locked myself in my room and listened to Flash of the Blade for five hours straight.”
Steve raises his eyebrows.
“I’m serious man, went straight batshit- full 9 yards. By the end, I wasn’t even sure if it was my favorite song anymore.”
Steve just scoffs and turns his head to the side, “Yeah, well you didn’t pull out a kitchen knife and start waving it around like a maniac.”
Eddie knew Steve was gonna say something like that.
“No, Harrington. We all deal with shit like this differently. I’m flight and you’re fight…and I'm pretty sure Buckley is freeze,” Steve does laugh at that, “so together, we make the perfect trifecta of reactions. Stop worrying about how you’re supposed to be dealing with all this shit, and just focus on the fact that you’re alive to deal with it.”
Steve sighs and lets his head drop, “Yeah… I uh- I guess that makes sense.” Steve hoists himself up from the couch, a bit more relaxed, and a little smile on his face.
Eddie pokes at the corner of Steve’s mouth. Steve almost immediately bats it away, “There we go. There’s that Steve Harrington smirk I’ve heard so much about. Now let’s get you some PJ’s.”
—-
The second Steve walks out of the bathroom wearing Eddie’s pajamas, Eddie knows he made a mistake. He should have made Steve wear a garbage bag, or a potato sack, or some shit. Steve has on Eddie’s black shirt, and it’s a bit too tight on him, so it hugs his biceps. The plaid pajama pants he has on are too long for him, so they fall over his feet and heels a bit. God he looks soft. Steve smiles at Eddie like he didn’t just flip the boy’s world view upside down, “Thanks for the clothes man.”
“Sure…” Eddie wheezes it out a little bit but coughs to cover it up. “Anyways, I cleaned up my room while you were changing-“ I threw everything gross under my bed and in my closet “-and the bed should be made , so you’re all set up.”
Steve gets this adorable- no, it’s dumb and it’s unattractive- scrunch in his forehead. “I can't take your bed man-“
“You can, and you will. What kind of host would I be if I let you sleep on the couch? I have a reputation to uphold Harrington, it’s about chivalry, and only the highest honor can be bestowed upon those-”
Steve just snickers, “Fine, fine, keep your pants on Munson.” He enters Eddie’s room, and Eddie crows on the door frame “Night night Stevie, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”
“If there are bed bugs in here, I will actually fucking murder you.”
Eddie just laughs and closes the door. He doesn’t usually go to bed this early so he’ll just lay on the couch and overthink everything that occurred for a few hours till he dozes off. Great. He can’t wait.
- -
Steve is now alone in Eddie’s room. It smells like his cheap aftershave and cigarette smoke. One window is open, letting in summer night air and the sound of crickets. There’s a puddle of water on the sill from when it rained. He sees a pile of clothes and other things like notebooks and pencils sticking out from under the bed. That makes him smile. The room itself is a bit smaller than Steve’s, but there’s so many things on the walls, posters, and an acoustic guitar he’s never seen. It feels lived in. God, what Steve wouldn’t give for this. So he lays down on the bed and gets in the sheets, quickly turning the lights off. God he is so fucking tired. It feels like he hasn’t slept in years, probably looks like it too.
It’s weird laying in Eddie’s bed, under his mix-matched bed spread. It creaks and moans under his weight, but he doesn’t mind. It’s nice. And it smells distinctly of… fuck he doesn’t know. People have smells. Nancy smells like her floral perfume, Robin smells like coffee, Dustin smells like his new hairspray (and if he’s honest, sometimes BO). Eddie smells like smoke most of the time, but there’s a small part that smells different. It’s a bit indescribable. Steve wants to figure out what it is. It’s warm.
Jesus christ, next he’s gonna start waxing poetically about the guys eyes.
Whatever, he’s had a weird day. Steve just sinks into it and lets himself be pulled under by sleep.
He turns his nose into the covers as he does.
—-
Steve doesn’t realize when he’s awake. Not really, It’s like he’s yanked into consciousness by a rope around his neck. And even then, he’s still there, in his dreams. His nightmares. He comes to, sweating and panting to the words,
“Harrington! Steve! Steve it’s me! It’s just me.” Eddie?
Then he realizes that the voice is below him. That his hands are wrapped around Eddie’s neck, and he’s about to start squeezing. Eddie- who’s obviously been thrown onto the bed. Eddie- who’s wide eyed and struggling against his iron grip. Eddie- who looks fucking terrified.
Steve throws himself back with enough force that he falls off the bed. No, no no no fuck. He could have killed him. Eddie’s shirtless form is following him, moving to the edge, but Steve just crawls backwards in a scrambled attempt to stay away. He almost killed him. Steve can’t even remember the dream he was having, doesn’t think it matters anymore. Not when his hands were wrapped around Eddie’s throat, with the intent to kill. His face is covered with sweat- no.
No, those are tears.
Eddie’s moving off the bed and onto the floor with him, trying desperately to get closer, with his hands up, “It’s ok, it’s ok. I promise Steve. It was just a dream.” Steve is still breathing raggedly, Everything’s bathed in darkness and it’s hard to make out Eddie’s features.
“Ok?! Ok? I almost fucking killed you. Oh my god, I almost killed you, what the fuck-“
“You didn’t, Steve. I’m ok. See? I’m alright.” Eddie grabs at his hands now, which Steve didn’t realize had been clenched in his hair, close to ripping it out. Steve lets him, and watches as Eddie rubs up and down his shaking palms with his thumbs.
“Eddie-“ His voice breaks, and he hates it. God- He’s so pathetic. Eddie’s comforting him. He has to get the fuck out of here, “I- I should go. I need to go.” Steve scrubs at his eyes and wrenches himself off of the floor, moving towards the exit.
“What? Your car isn’t here. Steve, you need to stay. It’s like 3 in the morning-“
“I’ll walk.”
“It’s like five miles- Steve, Jesus-“ Eddie is stumbling over things trying to catch up to Steve, “Will you just fucking wait a minute, Harrington?”
Steve’s already at the door, opening it. Just trying to get away, escape this situation. “Fuck, Steve just wait.” The door is slammed back shut by a hand on its center. Eddie’s voice is low. Angry. There’s a hand on his bicep and suddenly he’s wrenched around to face Eddie. Eddie who’s less than a foot away, with his hand still on the door next to Steve’s head. Eddie who’s seething, his eyes dark. Eddie, who’s bare chest rises and falls with each breath. Steve suddenly feels a bit short of breath. “Just- just…wait.” Eddie speaks a bit slower now.
The boy grabs one of Steve’s hands, not unkindly, and presses it to his chest.
“I’m okay. See? I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t even press down…I’m okay.” Steve’s fingers are trembling on Eddie’s chest. He hopes Eddie can’t tell, but knows it’s obvious. He feels the thud of Eddie’s heart. Fast, but otherwise unharmed. It wrings something inside Steve out like a wet towel. He remembers Eddie laying in a pool of his own blood. He remembers feeling Eddie’s pulse fade into nothing. He remembers the snap of Eddie’s ribs underneath his hands during compressions. He remembers carrying him 3 miles until they could find a car to take them to the hospital. He remembers it all. How is he supposed to forget? He just wants to forget everything he’s seen, everything he’s done. But he sees it all every night. He’s able to play it off during the day, make everyone think he’s completely fine. Not at night. His dreams. Steve barely remembers most of them, but occasionally he’ll get flashes.
Hands tied behind his back, flower-mouthed monsters rearing their head towards him, the sound of bones crunching, Max’s white eyes and bloody teeth, Eddie’s ragged and broken breathing, Dustin sobbing into his arms in the fluorescent hospital lights. And Steve is strong. He has to be. That’s his role: Obstinate, dumb, but fucking strong, fucking reliable. And he can’t be reliable if he breaks down in front of everyone because he can’t sleep. He just wants to sleep. He’s so goddamn tired.
Steve slumps. He slides to the ground, and sits with his back against the door, letting his head hang between his knees. Eddie follows him, grip still tight on Steve’s hand, until he’s crouched in front of him.
They sit like that for a minute until Steve asks, “What… What happened?” Immediately, he hates how weak he sounds, and tries to draw his hand back. Eddie moves it from his chest, but doesn’t let go, hands clasped between them.
“I was on the couch, but you…” his voice gets softer than Steve has ever heard before. It’s a low timbre, a whisper even though it’s just the two of them. Steve’s eyes are beginning to adjust to the darkness. “You started screaming. I tried to wake you up, but you just thrashed around, grabbed me, and threw me on the bed.” Steve can’t bear to hear anymore. He wrenches his hand out of Eddie’s grip and turns his head away. Eddie just gets closer, on his knees now, and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders, “Stop, Steve, you didn’t hurt me.”
“You were scared, Eddie. I saw you, you were scared.”
“Not of you.”
“Liar.”
Eddie lets out a frustrated huff. He grabs Steve’s chin and moves it so the other boy is looking at him.
“Did you mean to do it?”
“W-what?”
“Did. You. Mean. To. Do it.?”
Steve looks at him incredulously, “No, of course not, what kind of question is that?”
“Did you want to do it?”
Steve tries to recoil in disbelief, but the firm grip Eddie has on his jaw stops him.
“No! Fuck no.”
“Then why would I be scared of you?” Eddie says it in a sharp whisper. Steve can see his whole face now that he’s adjusted to the dark. His hair is a bit rumpled, and he’s got that concerned furrow in his brow again. He can feel the lack of rings by the hand on his jaw. He has no shirt on and the trail of hair that goes down his navel and into- no we’re not doing this again. And of more important notice:
Eddie’s glancing down at Steve’s lips.
Neither of them speak for a moment. Steve is grasping at things to say, but his mind has gone haywire, because he realizes something awful. Something beautifully and amazingly and gut-wrenchingly awful.
He wants Eddie to kiss him. He wants Eddie to hold him, and tell him that he’s not scared of Steve a million more times. He wants Eddie to take care of him like he did in the kitchen.
Fuck
Before Steve can even process what he’s feeling, he’s being drawn up from his position on the floor so he’s standing. Eddie’s hands are gripped under his forearms to support him. God, he’s so much stronger than he thought. He smells like weed and deodorant. Steve wants to lean into it. Instead, he follows as Eddie keeps one hand under his arm and guides him back to the bedroom.
“Let’s get you back to bed okay? It’s late, you need rest.”
Steve just nods, not trusting his voice right now.
Eddie’s room is bathed in only darkness and a beam of pale white from the window. The crickets are loud and the air from the window still smells like wet grass.
Eddie gets his bed back in order as Steve washes his face in the bathroom. The water runs down his arms as he rubs it into his eyes. If he scrubs hard enough, he can pretend there were never tears there.
When Steve returns, Eddie’s leaning up next to the window. His hands are tucked into his plaid pajama pockets. Steve gets his first calm look at Eddie shirtless. Eddie’s always had that thin sort of muscle, so Steve was never aware of how strong he is. Seeing it now, the pale white planes of his body, he understands how Eddie has been able to manhandle him as much as he has. Only then does he realize he’s been blatantly checking the boy out. Eddie doesn’t smirk or laugh at him. He just watches back. It gives Steve goosebumps. Eddie stays still as Steve moves past him and climbs back in bed. Eddie pushes off of the wall and moves to the door.
“Goodnight Stevie.” Good. Now Steve will have some time alone with his thoughts. He’ll be able to piece together how this happened and how to avoid it again. He’ll be able to mull over his thoughts about Eddie, and the boy's dark eyes. That's good. He should be alone.
He wonders if he’s only imagining the smell of dust.
Panic rises.
“Eddie.” He doesn’t mean to say it. It comes out rough, and his voice breaks in the middle of the word. Eddie stops, hand on the open door knob. He lingers for a second before turning back to Steve. Steve thinks belatedly that he should say something- anything. But what was he even going to say? The space between them feels like miles, and Steve’s glad that no lights are on. He doesn’t want Eddie to see the red that’s obviously covering his face, “I- I um…” The sentence trails off, probably for the better. Steve didn’t know what he was going to say anyways. Eddie doesn’t shrug it off. He doesn’t leave either.
Edward Munson closes the door back softly. He turns back to Steve and slowly approaches the bed, like he’s trying not to spook an animal. He then lifts a corner of the comforter up and slides into bed with Steve.
Steve didn’t even know that this was what he was asking for. Eddie did. Eddie lays on his back. Steve stays on his side, watching Eddie’s profile.
Eddie has a strong angled nose. His hair falls across the pillow like waves. Eventually, Eddie moves onto his side, facing towards Steve. Neither says a word for a couple minutes before Eddie speaks up in a low quiet voice,
“Be warned, Harrington, I’m a cuddler.”
Steve just chuckles in the quiet of the night.
They’re only a foot away from each other. Steve wishes they were closer, but also not. He doesn’t know how to deal with these newly discovered feelings. He settles for staring back at Eddie. This can’t be platonic right? I mean they’re quite literally in bed together.
“Steve, you need to let people help you sometimes.”
“I do.”
Eddie exhales an indignant puff of air, “Oh yeah? Have you told Robin about this stuff? Dustin? Anyone?”
“There isn’t any ‘stuff’. I’m just trying to adjust. It’s taking me a minute.”
Eddie just slowly shakes his head. Then, giving him time to move away, he brings his left hand up to Steve’s face. It cups his cheek gently. Steve stops breathing, scared to say or do anything wrong. Then he feels Eddie rub his thumb under his eye softly. Steve knows Eddie’s tracing his dark circles. The fingers are large and calloused.
Fuck Steve wants to kiss him.
“If you don’t want them to know, or to help- or whatever, at least let me help. I can help Steve.” They’re both speaking in barely there whispers now.
Steve doesn’t know what to say to that, so he goes for light-hearted, “Your funeral.”
“I wouldn’t mind a funeral if you were there” It would probably be funny if Steve hadn’t watched Eddie bleed out in his arms.
“Don’t say things that”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Steve feels his pulse beating strong and fast. He wonders if Eddie can hear it. Steve also feels his face burn red and knows Eddie can feel it through the hand still on his cheek.
“Sorry. Just wanted to feel you blush.” He sounds in awe.
Steve brings his own hand up and places it on top of Eddie’s, intertwining their fingers. He tries to pour all he’s feeling into the gesture, because words don’t seem to work at the moment.
“Sleep, Stevie. I’ll be here when you wake up.” No, not after everything that’s happened. He wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what comes next- what this means.
“Fuck sleeping.” Steve moves to kiss him.
Ok, so Steve’s never done this before, but what better time to start than the present? This is what he’s good at. So what if he’s never kissed a boy? So what if he doesn’t know how to kiss a boy? How does he kiss a boy? Is it different?
He realizes he’s stopped a hair’s breadth away from Eddie’s lips. Their noses brush each other. Eddie hasn’t moved, only staring at Steve with amusement.
“Couldn’t quite get the whole way there, could you?”
“Fuck you” Steve is shaking, and breathing heavy. He’s sure he’s going to ruin this, how could he not? Has Eddie been with other guys before? They’re both still laying down, facing each other, only an inch apart. Steve is unable to move anymore, too scared of closing that last distance. Eddie, still and sure, just moves his head back a bit to properly look Steve in the eyes. He must recognize the panic in them.
Eddie softens. He moves onto his elbow, now above Steve. Steve rolls on his back to maintain eye contact. The brunette’s hair is hanging down around his face. The two boys are twisted around each other. Eddie brings his hand up, and rakes Steve’s hair back. The nails feel like heaven on his scalp, and he leans into them, shivering.
“You’re so fucking sweet, it’s killing me, Harrington…”
When Eddie moves to kiss Steve, he also hesitates, like he’s not sure this is real. He pulls back, tilts his head to the right, and leans back in. It’s like they’re being pulled together by a magnet. He takes it slow enough that Steve could back away if he wanted. He doesn’t.
Eddie kisses Steve’s shaking lips like they’re the most precious thing on Earth. Like they’re breakable. Steve’s body feels like it’s on fire. Then, as if a dam breaks, Eddie’s hand is in Steve’s hair, and Eddie presses his lips to Steve like he’s a starving man. Eddie kisses like he does everything, he puts everything he has into it.
Steve tries to ground himself by placing his hands on Eddie’s chest. The boy's skin is warm like an oven. He tries to put his all into the kiss as well, tries to start leading. That’s what he’s supposed to do right? It’s what all the chicks he’s been with wanted. Eddie just lets out a frustrated huff and quickly holds Steve’s jaw like he did at the door. And- Oh. Yeah we could do it this way too.
Steve has always been the one to take control. Always. But here, with Eddie, he gets to just exist. No more stupid fucking jock facade, no more pressure, no more babysitting, no more getting beat up (thank god, no more getting beat up), no more parents. It’s ethereal.
Steve lets out a, quite frankly, embarrassing noise, and Eddie just kisses him harder. The boy has no choice but to melt in place as Eddie continues to ravish him. Their lips are both chapped, and Steve's eyes are still red and puffy. The firm hand brands Steve’s chin, and Eddie takes this moment to bite down on Steve's bottom lip.
Steve does nothing but gasp helplessly into his mouth. Eddie suddenly pulls back and stares at Steve’s face, panting. Steve is sure his hair is sticking in all kinds of directions, and feels how swollen his lips are. “Fucking hell, Harrington.” Eddie dives back in to kiss him, like he can’t help himself. “Don’t- ngh- call me that.” Eddie moves down past his jaw. At the same time, Eddie’s hand leaves Steve’s chin and instead makes its way under the hem of Steve’s shirt, gripping at his waist.
“Oh, and what do you prefer? Baby?” Yes. Eddie sucks a mark into Steve’s neck. Steve’s writhing. “Honey?” Yes. There’s a nip under Steve’s jaw, which makes him arch up into Eddie’s grasp. Eddie’s hand slides to Steve’s lower back and holds him close “Sweetheart?” Yes.
Steve just gasps out, “Eds, please.” Eddie pulls off his neck, and rests his forehead in the crook of Steve’s neck, breathing heavily. He places one more kiss to Steve’s pulse point. He then gently lowers Steve’s back. More soft kisses are pressed to Steve’s cheeks, then both of his eyelids. Eddie rests his forehead on Steve's. They share breath for a few moments.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers quietly to Steve in their small bubble of reality, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Oh. That hurts more than he expected it to.
Steve sucks in a sharp breath and withdraws his hands. Then, because he’s a masochist, he asks, “What?”. God, he sounds pathetic again. Of course, he’s immediately showing all his colors. He’s such a fucking idiot, and he’ll never learn his lesson. Eddie opens his eyes, and, after seeing Steve tense, goes white.
“No no no, Stevie. Not like that.” Eddie hurriedly brings his hand up to cup the back of Steve’s neck, thumb rubbing in soothing circles. “I promise baby, not like that… You’ve just had a long day. You’re tired, you need sleep. I shouldn’t have jumped your bones.”
“I’m pretty sure I was the one who did that-“
“Still. You know what I mean.” As much as Steve wanted to protest, he did know. He was tired in a deep aching way. Sleep sounds like paradise.
“Okay, yeah. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to kiss you though. You weren’t taking advantage of me.”
“Ok, sweetheart. Tell me in the morning, and I’ll believe you.”
“Alright, I will.”
“Eddie just huffs out a laugh, “I know, baby,” He kisses Steve’s forehead, “I know.”
Steve turns to his side, facing away from Eddie. Eddie lays down behind him. He wraps a tight arm around the boy’s waist, and pulls him tight, like he’s afraid he’ll lose him. No one’s ever held on to Steve like he was something worth keeping. After a few minutes, Steve whispers, “I really will tell you in the morning, Eds. I wanted to kiss you. I enjoyed kissing you… I want to kiss you again- I mean if you want.” He needs Eddie to know that he means this. He feels Eddie’s smile on the back of his neck. After a beat of silence Eddie says, “Okay, Stevie. I believe you. Now sleep, sweetheart.” Eddie places one last kiss to the back of his neck.
Steve, wrapped up in Eddie’s arms, sinks into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in weeks.