Work Text:
“Please tell me you’re not planning to burn down a building,” Steve says with amusement as he pauses at the door to Eddie’s room, leaning against the frame.
Eddie looks up from where he’s been working at his desk, confused.
“What?”
Steve cocks and eyebrow and raises the bag of supplies Eddie’s asked for on the phone earlier.
Back when Eddie was still on pain meds and wasn’t supposed to drive, Steve would call at the end of his shift and ask what items he might need; he was dropping by the store for his own shopping anyway. Even though Eddie’s (thankfully) recovered from his wounds, Steve’s habit persisted, and Eddie’s gladly taking advantage of that. Not that Steve minds at all. It’s usually something minor Eddie’s forgotten to buy; and honestly, he likes having an excuse to drop by Eddie’s trailer.
Because… well. Eddie is there, and Eddie is making him feel all sorts of things. Crazy, unexpected, really really nice things.
“Rubbing alcohol and ten boxes of matches,” Steve recites Eddie’s delivery order, shaking the bag a little. “Do I even wanna know?”
Cackling, Eddie motions for him to come closer, returning to the task at hand.
Steve carefully steps around what looks like a giant piece of cardboard on the floor, painted green, and stops beside Eddie, looking at the various items covering his desk. All kinds of craft supplies, and dozens upon dozens of… trees?
“What are you making?”
“A cabin in the woods.”
Steve bends over the desk to see what Eddie’s doing. He watches him glue a bunch of matches together, then paint them brown. Steve picks up one of the finished trees and realizes they are all the same, matches making the trunk, stuck to a beer cap with a piece of clay so it can stand upright, and a piece of cotton painted green for the crown on top.
Eddie’s working with an endearing amount of concentration, tip of a tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as his long nimble fingers swiftly put together the tiny pieces. His wild hair is up in a messy bun. Desperately screaming for some conditioner treatment, as usual. This is how it all started for Steve; an irrational urge to wash Eddie’s hair with some good product, before he realized that fantasizing about washing a guy’s hair probably isn’t so much about the hair itself as it is about the guy.
“Cool,” Steve says with honest admiration. Towards Eddie’s work as much as just Eddie. “So that’s why you needed matches.”
“Yup. Takes a while, but it’s the cheapest material ever and you can make pretty much anything,” Eddie says. “And I’m gonna need the alcohol later for, uh… all of this.” He raises one of his arms. There are splotches of dried glue and paint all over it, even up to his elbows.
Steve chuckles; he’s not even gonna bother asking how that happened. He moves a discarded hoodie of Eddie’s from a nearby stool and drags it to the desk to he can sit down next to Eddie.
“This all for a campaign, I’m guessing?”
“Yup,” Eddie looks up with a grin.
The scabbing on his jaw wound has recently peeled off, leaving behind a white jagged scar with a dark pink outline. It makes all of Eddie’s smiles a little crooked, something about mild muscle damage; doesn’t make him any less attractive in Steve’s eyes.
There’s a green speck of dried paint on Eddie’s chin. Steve’s fingers itch to wipe it off, even if he knows it’s not gonna come out like that. He’s definitely not thinking of wetting his thumb and trying to rub it off like a mother would with a child.
Steve forces himself to stop looking at that spot. When he meets Eddie’s eyes, the guy is giving him a slightly dazed, wide-eyed look, and a little too late, Steve realizes it probably appeared as if he was staring at Eddie’s lips.
Not that he’d never do that. He’s been doing that a lot lately, actually. As discreetly as possible at first, and then not really, once he started noticing the faint blush on Eddie’s cheeks. After that, Steve stopped worrying about getting caught, even if he was still gearing up to do something other than just look.
He clears his throat.
“What’s it about?”
Eddie’s eyebrows lift in surprise, like always when Steve shows an interest in his hobbies. Steve tries not to take it personally, even though he wishes Eddie would get over this stage already, stop getting caught off guard about him being different from the King Steve he knew in high school.
“You swear to keep it a secret?” Eddie asks after those few seconds of hesitation.
“Of course. On Dustin’s mother?” Steve asks with a grin, delighted when Eddie immediately laughs, recognizing their little inside joke. Despite the dark circumstances of its inception.
“Yeah, that will do.” Eddie glues a piece of cotton to the top of the tree, cursing under his breath as a bit of fluffy fiber remains on his sticky fingers. He begins plucking at it. “So the story begins when our noble heroes learn of a little girl that’s been kidnapped from the village,” he says, slipping into his DM voice Steve’s been getting more and more accustomed to as they spent time together. “They need to brave the many dangers of the enchanted forest, find the cabin where the child it being held, and rescue her.”
“Was it a hag that stole the kid?” Steve guesses.
Eddie looks at him like he’s impressed.
“It is.”
“So it’s like Hansel and Gretel?”
“Aah!” Eddie raises a finger. “Not exactly. See, there’s a twist, the hag actually needs the child to be sacrificed to an evil spirit that will destroy the entire forest and its inhabitants if not regularly appeased,” Eddie explains excitedly, dramatically gesticulating with his hands. “So. If the party actually talk to her instead of rushing into battle right away, they’ll learn that information, and if they play their cards right, the hag might even agree to team up with them to defeat the spirit.”
“And if they don’t?”
“They’ll still need to fight the spirit that will ambush them on the way back, and the battle will be considerably more difficult.”
“Without the hag’s help.”
“And the spirit gets a surprise round.” Eddie looks up, notices Steve’s blank look, and clarifies, “It attacks first, so the party takes damage before they even know it’s there.”
Steve nods. This is why he doesn’t mind talking to Eddie about this game; no eyerolls, no condescending tone, he just explains things, and the way he does always makes logical sense.
“Plus,” Eddie continues, “because they didn’t know what it is, they aren’t prepared and don’t have a strategy going in. Oh, it would be baaad,” Eddie cackles.
Steve chuckles, amused, realizing just now why the kids are somewhat terrified of Eddie when it comes to D&D.
“So they get punished for being reckless instead of taking a smart approach. That’s a decent lesson to teach them.”
“Exactly!” Eddie exclaims, clearly thrilled that Steve gets his idea. He finishes applying the paint and sets the finished tree at the end of a whole long row of them on the desk.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just… draw the trees on the board?” Steve asks, hoping it’s not a stupid question.
“Ah! I’m so glad you asked.” Eddie grins at him. Then, he hesitates for a second, as if still unsure if Steve wants to hear the oncoming rant; Steve makes a ‘go on’ gesture with his hands. “See, the trees make a labyrinth the party needs to get through to reach the cabin, but there’s a catch. The trees will move around and can block the available paths. So I can’t just have a static painting. A few of these,” he gestures to the row of tree figurines, “are treants. Huge plant creatures that pretend to be trees, but they can actually talk and walk and even attack, if angered.”
“Can they be reasoned with?”
“Oh definitely. Also possible allies against the forest spirit, if you do them a favor. Which I still need to come up with.” Eddie chews on the end of his brush in thought. “Maybe… get rid of a barghest that’s disturbing their peace? I’m sure I had a wolf figurine somewhere,” he mutters to himself, opening a drawer and rummaging through it. “Aha! I knew it. There it is.”
“That’s so cool, how you come up with all that,” Steve says, sincerely impressed.
He assumed writing a campaign is like a story, but it looks more complicated than that, with multiple branches and possible endings depending on what the players will do. It’s crazy how much work goes into that, even if Eddie seems to be genuinely having fun with it.
Eddie’s cheeks flush at the compliment, and he attempts to hide it by rummaging through the bag Steve has brought to take out a fresh pack of matches.
“How many more of these do you have to make?” Steve asks.
“About twenty. And then the hag’s cabin.”
“Wait, that’s also made of matches?”
In lieu of replying, Eddie turns around, grabs an open magazine from his bed, and drops it in Steve’s lap. Steve takes it and studies the page. It appears to be some sort of crafts mag. The page contains step-by-step instructions on how to glue a bunch of matches together to make a tiny house.
Seems simple enough.
“Do you want help?” He asks, still looking through the instructions and hoping that Eddie will say yes.
Mostly because it’s an excuse to stick around longer. But also because he wants to try. He can’t remember the last time he made something with his hands like that. 8th grade?
“Uhm.” Eddie hesitates. “Have you done something like this before?”
“No, but I took Mr Gibson’s woodshop class in middle school.” Steve shrugs. “This seems way easier than making a birdhouse from scratch. I think I can figure it out.”
“One of the few classes I actually liked, you know.” Eddie smiles warmly, reaching into the bag again and placing another box of matches in front of Steve. “You sure you won’t get bored with this? It’s gonna take a while.”
“Bored? With Eddie Munson in the room?” Steve teases, nudging Eddie with an elbow. “Not a chance.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve notices Eddie’s face turn pink again. His heart skips a beat. Did that count as flirting? Probably.
True to his word, Steve’s not bored at all. It takes him a few minutes to get the hang of handling the tiny details, but then it’s just a matter of stacking more layers in the same pattern. He probably wouldn’t have the patience to sit and do this for literally hours, but he gets why Eddie finds it enjoyable. It’s kind of meditative, putting the details together, and it’s a joy to see the vision slowly come to life.
He quickly understands why Eddie’s entire arm is speckled with bits of glue, once he starts instinctively wiping off his gluey fingers on whatever part of his own skin he can reach. There’s reason to the seeming madness.
But more than anything, he’s enjoying the company. Eddie keeps talking about more ideas to add to the story and occasionally jotting them down on a piece of paper. They’re sitting close, bumping elbows, brushing fingers as they pass the bottle of glue back and forth. It’s nice and peaceful, but also a little nervewracking at the same time. Steve keeps glancing at Eddie every time he’s waiting for the glue to dry, and every time Eddie meets his gaze and gives him a shy smile, Steve feels a bit warmer.
He’s never felt this way about a guy before. Before Eddie. But he recognizes the mood, the undeniable current of attraction in the small shared space. A mutual one; he’s more sure of it now than ever before, even if Eddie once again tries using humor to deflect, like he’s done so many times after a flirtatious remark in Steve’s address.
“So, Steve,” he says with a smirk as Steve starts working on the roof of the tiny matchstick cabin, “is this the nerdiest evening you’ve ever had in your life?”
“Probably.” Steve smiles. “I guess I should get used to it.”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him, and Steve fights to keep his expression nonchalant. His heart beats faster. He can do this. He can take this a step further, push his luck.
“See,” he says, his gaze still focused on the work at hand, “there’s this one guy who’s really into nerdy stuff. And I like spending time with him. So.” He shrugs, glancing over at Eddie, whose face does something complicated before settling back on a teasing grin.
“Careful, Stevie. One wrong step and you suddenly find yourself making a character sheet.”
“I said I liked spending time with one nerd,” Steve points out, “not a whole room of them.”
Eddie’s quiet for a long moment as they both work, chewing on his lip. Please get the hint, Steve silently begs with his glances.
“There’s always a solo campaign option,” Eddie finally blurts out, not meeting Steve’s eyes.
He says it so casually, like Steve didn’t just witness with his own eyes and ears what goes into making a whole campaign. How many hours of dedicated work that entails. Steve wanted Eddie to understand that he meant spending time with him alone, but he didn’t expect that kind of offer.
“What, with just me?” He asks, looking around the room, at the small mountain of notes, the little matchstick and cotton trees, the hand-painted figurines. “You’d do all this… just for me?”
Eddie laughs shyly, his cheeks properly red now.
“Not necessarily, this is honestly one of my most ambitious projects. I have plenty of props that are ready to use. But, um. Yeah, sure?”
“Holy shit.” Steve still has no idea how to play this game, what all the numbers mean and why there are so many dice involved, but he thinks that’s okay. Eddie didn’t mention it as a concern, which probably means he wouldn’t mind helping Steve figure that out. Hopefully.
“Okay then. Cool,” Steve smiles and adds, for extra clarity, heart thumping in his chest, “it’s a date.”
Eddie jerks his head towards him, eyes wide, mouth agape. Steve can practically hear the gears turning in his head, as if searching for a hidden meaning behind the words; as if Steve couldn’t be any more clear.
There’s a new speck of paint on Eddie’s cheek. There are actually several by now, of course, because Eddie kept touching his face with his paint-stained hands; but this one still looks fresh, and this time Steve doesn’t resist the impulse. He reaches out and wipes at it with his thumb, chuckling at the resulting smudge on Eddie’s absolutely gobsmacked face.
“Sorry, you had a bit of… well, actually, I just made it worse.”
Eddie jumps up from his chair, finding his reflection in what little of his mirror (mostly covered in posters and photos various notes) is visible.
“Oh my god,” he groans, trying to rub the paint off of his face, unsuccessfully. “What the fuck, I look like…”
“Like a three-year-old who got into a can of paint,” Steve can’t help giggling.
“Fuck you, dude,” Eddie says without a single note of hostility, grinning and rolling his eyes.
“Don’t worry, you’re still pretty.”
Steve hears a sharp intake of breath as Eddie’s eyes in the mirror dart to look at him. Eddie then sighs dramatically, turns around and leans back against the desk, folding his arms on his chest.
“Yep. This is fine. Totally fine,” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, as if giving himself a pep talk without Steve being right there in the room. “I can be totally normal about Steve Harrington calling me pretty.”
It’s adorable, how absolutely flustered he is, but Steve resists the urge to tease him further and returns to the task of finishing the tiny cabin’s roof. Eddie’s obviously having a hard time processing this. Steve gets why; Eddie’s a flirty dude, and Steve’s pretty sure he nailed his assumption about Eddie being into boys and specifically into him, but it’s not like they talked about it, not like with Robin. And he’s clearly caught off guard by the flirting actually having lead to something.
Behind the loud confident facade, Eddie’s turned out to be shy in a way that screams inexperience. Steve’s more than fine with it, he just needs to tread carefully.
Steve can feel Eddie’s gaze on him. The boy’s right leg, bent at the knee, keeps anxiously jiggling in his peripheral vision.
“You said, a date,” Eddie finally speaks up, deadpan.
“Yes,” Steve replies calmly, even as he feels a swarm of excited butterflies in his stomach.
“With me.”
“Yes.”
“Playing D&D.”
Steve sets down the tube of glue and looks up, takes in the amazed disbelief in Eddie’s face, smiles.
“Yeah.”
Eddie makes a weird noise in the back of his throat, half-way between a yelp and a whine. Then, he giggles, rubs a hand across his face (really not helping the whole paint situation), and darts down so quickly Steve barely has a chance to blink. He lands a barely-there peck on Steve’s cheek and then backs away, flopping down into his chair, staring at his hands and biting on his smile.
It’s so sweet and innocent Steve’s about to burst inside. He grins so hard his cheeks ache.
“You missed,” he teases playfully, then leans in towards Eddie’s red face and gently presses their lips together.
He feels warm breath against his mouth as Eddie softly gasps; the kiss is sweet and chaste, with them both smiling too wide to do anything else, and Steve’s more than happy with that. Take it slow. Don’t freak Eddie out.
“Holy shit,” Eddie mutters as Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, brushes a strand of stray hair behind Eddie’s ear — a classic move, of course he couldn’t resist it; then he reaches for the box of matches and starts putting together a chimney on the little cabin.
Eddie watches him for a moment, then clears his throat.
“Uhm. You don’t have to keep working on this, you know.”
Steve grins at him.
“What, you think this was just a ploy to come onto you?”
“Wasn’t it?” Eddie laughs, wincing adorably before also grabbing more matches for a new tree.
“Eh. Maybe at first,” Steve admits. “But now I’m committed. I mean, look at it, it’s awesome!” He carefully turns the finished house around in his hand. “Pass me the brown, I still need to paint it.”
They keep working together until way past midnight, with Steve occasionally nudging Eddie’s knee under the desk just to see him look up with a flustered smile. He’s more excited about a new romance than he’s been in a very long time; and if that involves picking up some nerdy hobbies? It might be more fun than he expected.