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ghosttotheparty · 2 years

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love me softly p12

part eleven

tw: implied emotional/mental abuse; panic attack; brief mention of hospitalisation

Eddie shoves the worksheets into his backpack more carelessly than he should, stepping to the side with a little smile to let a girl pass in the hallway. She looks him up and down, her eyes scraping over his ripped jeans and oversized shirt before she looks away, ignoring him. His smile turns into a grimace.

The worksheets are practically burning in his bag. One is all marked up with his messy handwriting in smudged pencil and Mrs Miller’s trademark red pen, the other blank and waiting for him to fill in the correct answers. Miller says if he doesn’t turn it in with a sixty percent or higher he’ll fail, a statement that’s stuck in his head like a broken record.

Gareth is still at the picnic table outside the main building when Eddie finds him again, opening his mouth to tell him about the sixty percent, but Gareth’s expression makes him stop. He looks up at Eddie, wide-eyed, frowning.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks when he’s close enough.

“Uh, Steve came looking for you.”

Eddie’s stomach drops a little bit, and he freezes.

“Is something wrong?”

“He didn’t say,” Gareth says, setting his book down. “Just asked where you were and if you could meet him in the bathroom. He said you’d know which one.” He pauses, fiddling with the corner of a page. “He looked like he’d been crying.”

“Fuck, okay.” Eddie starts toward the entrance of the school. “You’re the best, love you.”

“Love you too,” Gareth says with an amused smile, but his eyes are still shining with concern.

Eddie runs to find the bathroom faster than he runs in gym class. It’s on the second floor, toward the back of the building. There’s only one classroom in that hallway that’s actually in use (home ec class), and every time Eddie steps into the dim hallway he thinks it looks abandoned. The bathroom is where he keeps a stash of cigarettes behind a loose tile.

Steve is leaning against a the wall across from the door when Eddie comes in, and Eddie’s heart aches even as Steve smiles at him.

His cheeks and nose are rosy, his eyes shining like they’re still tear-filled, and he looks so small it makes Eddie’s chest hurt.

“Hey,” Eddie says, shutting the door behind himself. “Got your message.”

Steve tilts his head, smiling softly.

“Gareth’s nice.”

“‘S my best friend,” Eddie says as he gets closer. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly.

Steve looks at the floor, his smile falling. He shrugs weakly. Eddie wants to kiss him.

He takes off his bag, setting it next to Steve’s on the ground as he gazes at him.

They haven’t kissed in school since that day in the locker room, only at Steve’s house and in the van, even though Eddie wants to every time he sees him in the hallway, every time he finds a drawing in his locker.

“Stevie,” Eddie prompts, whispering.

Steve takes a breath, looking up at him, anguish in his eyes.

“My parents came home last night.”

Eddie blinks, his heart breaking a little bit.

“Are you okay?”

Steve shrugs again, his mouth twisting.

“Just feel like shit,” he says quietly. “Kinda just wanted a kiss.”

Eddie exhales, his eyes flicking back and forth between Steve’s for a moment before he reaches out and pulls at his shirt, tugging him into the closest stall before he turns to grab their backpacks.

Eddie pushes Steve against the wall before he locks the stall door.

“Hi,” he murmurs, getting close and touching Steve’s waist.

“Hi,” Steve says weakly, his eyes fluttering like he’s going to cry.

“C’mere,” Eddie says softly, reaching up to touch his face and leaning in. He kisses him slowly, sighing when Steve’s hands find his waist and hold him tightly. Eddie pushes his fingers until Steve’s hair and tugs gently, nibbling on his lip carefully. Eddie pulls away, opening his eyes to look at Steve. His eyes are still closed, his lips parted, almost blissful.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie breathes, watching Steve’s cheeks flush before he leans in and kisses him again. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, holding him tightly as his tongue slips across Eddie’s lip. Eddie can feel his hands shaking against him.

“You okay?” Eddie asks when they part, tugging Steve’s hair gently. Steve exhales, resting his forehead on Eddie’s.

“Better.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, pressing his hands into the small of Eddie’s back.

“You wanna talk about it?” Eddie asks quietly. Steve presses his lips together and lifts his head, looking back and forth between Eddie’s eyes.

“They’re so mean,” he says after taking a sharp breath. His lip trembles, and before Eddie can even say anything, there are tears welling in his eyes and falling down his cheeks, and Eddie’s whole body aches.

“Baby,” he breathes, pulling Steve into a tight hug. “I got you, come here.”

A deep sob wracks Steve’s body, and Eddie buries his face in his neck, whispering to him. He can feel Steve’s tears on his neck, sliding under his shirt, but he doesn’t care.

When Steve’s crying slows after a minute, Eddie pulls away and wipes away his tears, pressing kisses across his face.

“Don’t listen to them,” he whispers. “Okay? Nothing they say is true.”

Steve’s eyes open and look at him, so full of doubt that Eddie can feel his heart splitting in two.

“What are they saying ‘bout you, Stevie?” he asks, dreading the answer, but Steve just shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His lip quivers again, a tear rolls down his cheek. Eddie wipes it away, his own eyes burning. “‘S okay, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” Steve says softly. “Can I have a hug?”

Eddie wordlessly pulls him in close, pressing his lips to his neck, and Steve’s arms tighten around his waist as he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“‘S okay,” Eddie says again. “I love you, baby.”

It takes a moment for him to realise that he’s said it, and his eyes fly open as he freezes. Steve doesn’t say anything, but Eddie can feel him freeze too.

There are a few silent moment as they just hold each other, and Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest until Steve lets out a quiet laugh, huffing into Eddie’s neck.

“Did you just tell me you love me for the first time in a school bathroom?”

“…No?”

Steve laughs again, one of his hands running up Eddie’s spine.

“Do you really?” he murmurs after another moment, his voice hesitant. Eddie closes his eyes again, nuzzling into his neck.

“Yeah. I do.”

Steve presses his face against Eddie, his fingers digging into his back like he’s trying to rip into his jacket. Eddie tightens his own arms around him.

Steve is crying again. Eddie runs a hand over the top of his head gently, combing through his hair. And he waits.

Until Steve is choking out a quiet but firm, “I love you too.”

“Oh,” Eddie says weakly. “Shit.”

They stay in the bathroom until the bell rings. Before Steve can open the door to leave, Eddie catches his shirt and pulls him close again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “Nothing they say is true.”

Steve’s face softens and Eddie reaches up to hold his chin.

“I’m serious, Stevie,” he says gently. “I don’t know what they’re saying— and you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay,” he adds when Steve’s expression shifts. “But whatever they’re saying. It’s not true.”

Steve sighs, touching Eddie’s wrist and closing his eyes for a moment. Eddie brushes his thumb over Steve’s lips.

“And if you ever need me to remind you about how amazing you are, I will, gladly.”

Steve smiles and tugs at his wrist to press a kiss to his palm.

Gareth checks with Eddie that Steve’s okay when Eddie’s gets to class. Eddie’s heart swells.

He catches glimpses of Steve around school all day, in the hallways, in the cafeteria. He always looks sort of the same, forlorn and tired and small, and Eddie wants more than anything to pull him aside and hold him and kiss his neck until he falls asleep.

Eddie finds a drawing in his locker before he heads to his last class. It’s scribbly and messy, the pencil lines heavy and dark, and Eddie can tell just from gazing at it that it was a spur-of-the-moment, frantic drawing. Some of the lines are shaky like his hand was trembling when he did it.

Eddie puts it in his backpack more carefully than he’s ever done before, making sure not to fold or crease or bend it. He’ll put it on his wall when he gets home.

Somehow the last class is the most taxing. The teacher seems to target him the whole time, and has all year, always asking questions he knows Eddie doesn’t know the answers to and subtly making fun of him. It drives Eddie up the wall. He wants a cigarette.

So when the bell rings and he can escape, he heads up to the second floor, headed toward the abandoned bathroom for his cigarette stash.

He pauses in the doorway at the sound of a voice through the door, listening in confusion. It’s usually eerily silent around here, so quiet that any noise echoes and bounces off the tile.

It’s Tommy Hagen’s voice. Eddie blinks, furrowing his brows and listening intently, but his voice is muffled by the door, and Eddie can’t understand him. He pushes the door open quietly, looking inside to see Tommy on the floor, looking at someone that’s blocked by his two cronies. Eddie doesn’t know their names.

“Hey,” Eddie says sharply. Tommy looks up at him, but huffs.

“Fuck off, man, not right now.”

Eddie blinks, watching Tommy turn back away from him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, moving to look around the cronies, expecting to see some poor freshman on the ground, but he stops in his tracks, his stomach dripping when he sees Steve. “What…”

“I said fuck off,” Tommy says aggressively, but Eddie doesn’t move, staring.

Steve is curled into a ball against the wall he was leaning against this morning, his face hidden in his knees, and he has a hand in his own hair, gripping so tightly his knuckles are white. It’s only now that Eddie realises that Steve’s breaths are echoing in the room, too fast, too short and sharp.

Shit.

Tommy ignores Eddie, trying to pry Steve’s hand out of his hair.

“Come on, man,” he says. “Snap out of it, you’re— you’re fine.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Eddie says weakly, blinking his eyes when they burn because his boy is on the floor right now, having what looks like a panic attack, and he wants to kiss him better.

Tommy looks up at him.

“The fuck do you mean?” he says angrily. Eddie blinks again, swallowing.

“You’re— You’re hurting him, stop pulling his hand.”

“He’s hurting himself,” Tommy says. “I’m trying to stop him.”

“Yeah, I— I know, just— You gotta be gentle.”

“Fuck off, Munson—“

“I’m serious,” Eddie snaps. “You’re making it worse, cut it out.”

“Munson—”

“Let. Go.”

Tommy lets go of Steve’s wrist like he’s startled, and Eddie takes a breath, pausing before he drops his bag to the ground and pushes between the cronies, ignoring their protests. Tommy tries to stop him.

“Let me help,” Eddie says. “I’m not gonna— I’m not gonna try anything, I just—” He stares at Tommy desperately. “Let me help him.”

Tommy stares back.

“…Fine.”

“Tommy, seriously?” one of the boys asks behind Eddie.

“If he does anything, I’ll deal with it,” Tommy says firmly, turning to look up at him.

Eddie ignores them. He moves closer to Steve.

“Steve, it’s me,” he whispers softly, watching Steve’s shoulders rise and fall with every rapid breath. “Eddie,” he adds, knowing the others are listening. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, his hand still gripping his hair tightly.

“Give me a nod,” Eddie whispers, his chest hurting. “Or shake your head for me.”

Steve’s breaths are starting to blend with whimpers, as Eddie can tell that his throat is dry, that he’s crying. And then he nods weakly.

Eddie moves to sit next to his legs, reaching up and sliding a hand over Steve’s arm as gently as he can.

“I got you,” he murmurs, leaning closer. “‘M right here.”

He aches to say things he can’t say in front of Steve’s friends. To call Steve honey and sweetheart. He wants to press kisses to the side of Steve‘s head and to his shoulder.

Eddie’s hand creeps over Steve’s arm slowly, rubbing and squeezing until he reaches Steve’s hand that’s in his hair.

“Need you to let go, Steve,” he says, carefully avoiding saying Stevie. He rubs the back of his hand gently, touching his fingers. “Relax your hand.” Honey.

Steve whines, his hand tightening in his hair, and Eddie’s whole body hurts.

“Steve.” Sweetheart. “You’re okay.” He carefully presses his fingertips under Steve’s fingers, nudging them. “Let go, you can hold my hand, tight as you need to.”

The room is silent except for Steve’s stuttering breaths, and after a tight moment, Steve’s hand jumps from his hair to Eddie’s fingers, gripping them tightly. He’s shaking.

“There you go,” Eddie says gently.

He hears a quiet “What the fuck?” behind himself, and he turns slightly.

“Hagen, can you get them out of here?” he asks, but it’s more of a demand. “Like now?”

“I don’t…”

Eddie turns and looks over his shoulder, glaring at him. He’s sitting against a column between stalls, and when their eyes meet he moves to stand.

“Yeah, come on, guys.”

“Are you serious?” one of them asks, sounding like he’s going to laugh. “You want us to leave?”

“Just— Come on, Drew,” Tommy says, and Eddie hears him pushing the boys, but he doesn’t turn, running his thumb over Steve fingers. “He needs space.”

“So you’re leaving him with the freak?” the other one says.

Steve whimpers. His hand tightens on Eddie’s fingers.

“‘S okay,” Eddie murmurs as softly as he can. “‘S mine, Steve.”

He stops listening to the guys bickers behind him, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“Take a deep breath for me.” Honey. “Nice and slow.”

Steve tries, his breath stuttering, his shoulders shaking.

“You got it,” Eddie murmurs. “Breathe in. …All the way, ‘s okay. And out.”

Steve is trying. He’s trying so hard.

Eddie wants to cry.

“I know,” he says softly. “You’re okay, Steve, I’m right here.”

Steve squeezes his hand.

“Inhale when I squeeze,” Eddie says softly, moving to sit in front of him, a leg bent up around Steve. “Exhale when I let go. Okay?”

He waits for a moment, then shifts his hand to grip Steve’s, and he squeezes tightly, listening as Steve takes a staggered, broken inhale, and then he relaxes his hand, and Steve exhales forcefully.

“There you go,” Eddie says. “Good job.” Baby.

“What the fuck?” one of the boys under his breath, and Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand again, turning to glare at them over his shoulder.

“Get out.”

Tommy shoves at one of the boys’ shoulders, tugging at them and pulling them out the door.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs softly when the door shuts behind them, relaxing his hand and listening to Steve exhale. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he breathes.

“Eddie,” Steve chokes. His voice breaks.

“I know,” Eddie says, squeezing. “Just breathe, honey, I’m right here. You’re okay.”

He breathes.

Eddie can hear the boys bickering outside, their voices muffled bough that Eddie can’t quite make out the angry remarks they’re making. Eddie leans in and kisses the top of Steve’s head.

“Look up for me,” he murmurs when Steve’s breathing is slower after a moment. He’s still breathing too fast, too heavily. “Lift your head, honey.”

Steve looks up. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, and his nose and eyes are red, his lips dry and chapped, parted as he breathes. Eddie nods, lifting a hand to hold his chin.

“You’re okay,” he says. “Say it for me, Stevie, you’re okay.”

Steve’s eyes flutter for a moment and another tear falls down his cheek.

“‘M ‘kay,” he mumbles weakly, and Eddie smiles, nodding again.

“Yeah, you are,” Eddie whispers.

“Eddie,” Steve chokes desperately.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie says, moving closer. “You’re okay, ‘m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?”

He inhales deeply, taking an exaggerated breath so Steve copies him.

“Blow my hair out of my face,” he says, caressing Steve’s chin as he exhales hard.

Tommy raises his voice outside.

Steve glances past Eddie at the door, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Ignore them,” he says softly. “It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes, blinking his eyes hard. Another tear falls.

“Tonight,” Eddie murmurs, brushing his thumb over Steve’s chin. “You can come by mine. Stay for the weekend.”

Steve’s lip trembles, and he takes another shaky breath.

“Wayne won’t mind?” he asks breathlessly.

Eddie shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “Wayne won’t mind at all. He’ll probably make you tea ‘nd shit.”

“Okay,” Steve says weakly.

“Deep breath.”

Eddie nods when Steve takes a deep breath, shifting his hand, but Steve’s hand tightens on it, gripping two of his fingers tightly. Eddie looks at their hands and smiles softly.

It’s the same way he held his hand at Munchy’s party, when he whispered that he’s always hiding.

You don’t have to hide from me, Eddie had said.

I know.

And now Eddie gets to kiss him. So he does. Softly, chastely.

“You’re okay.”

Steve just nods, exhaling and closing his eyes. He breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling steadily as he squeezes Eddie’s fingers. Eddie brushes his thumb over his skin softly. Steve’s eyes open when the door opens, and Eddie looks behind himself to find Tommy coming in quietly, shutting the door behind himself.

Eddie starts to pull his hand away, but Steve clutches at his fingers, shaking his head as Tommy sits on the floor. Eddie runs his thumb back and forth over his skin.

“You okay, man?” Tommy asks softly. Steve nods, staring at the ground. “What happened?”

Steve shakes his head, his lip trembling, his eyes welling with tears.

“I don’t know,” he chokes. A tear escapes down his cheek, and Eddie wipes it away without thinking. Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and Eddie’s body aches with the desire to kiss him again.

“You’re okay,” Eddie murmurs softly, squeezing Steve’s hand gently. Steve nods and lowers his head to his knees, hiding his face and holding Eddie’s hand to his chest. Tommy looks at Eddie, some odd combination of curiosity and worry shining in his eyes, and Eddie just nods slightly.

“Hagen, can you get my bag?” Eddie asks quietly. “I have a bottle of water in there.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Eddie leans forward and squeezes Steve’s arm while Tommy is getting his bag and rummaging through it for Eddie’s water bottle.

Tommy runs his hand over Steve’s back gently while Steve sips at the water. Steve doesn’t let go of Eddie’s fingers, still holding them tightly even as he drinks the water, his hands still trembling.

And Eddie is reminded of that day in detention with Steve, the soft, kind silence between them. Except that now Tommy Hagen here too, rubbing Steve’s back, his eyes lingering on Steve and Eddie’s linked hands, but he doesn’t say anything. And somehow Eddie doesn’t really worry. Because Tommy’s eyes move on from their hands to Steve’s face, to his tear-streaked cheeks, and he looks so worried and heartbroken that Eddie softens a little bit.

Because even though Tommy Hagen is a dick, Eddie can tell just by looking at him that he loves Steve.

“Where are Drew and Davy?” Steve asks after finishing the water, holding the empty bottle. His voice is rough and tired. Eddie squeezes his hand.

“They went to the cafeteria to wait,” Tommy says softly.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, nodding. He sighs slowly, squeezing Eddie’s fingers.

“Ready?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

Eddie helps him stand, holding his hand tightly, and when he’s standing, he leans against the wall, blinking hard.

“Okay?” Eddie says. Tommy’s hands are out like he’s ready to catch Steve if he falls. Steve blinks again, nodding.

“Yeah, just… Got kinda lightheaded.”

Eddie squeeze his hand before they release each other as Steve stands up straight, nodding again.

“Eat something when you get home,” Eddie says gently. “Have some tea or something.”

Steve’s lips twitch into a small smile and he nods. He thanks Eddie in the hallway quietly, staring at him intently, and Eddie feels like he’s kissing him. His eyes are shining the same way they did at the party as he sat on the floor, reflecting all the quiet self-loathing and sadness that he doesn’t say out loud. Withdrawn. Hiding.

Eddie goes out to his van, carrying the empty water bottle. His eyes are burning the whole time, as he heads down the stairs and out the loud front door, wishing he could go back and take Steve home with him. Hoping that Drew and Davy aren’t assholes to Steve but somehow trusting that Tommy wouldn’t let them.

He’s approaching his van when he hears his name behind him, and he turns to find Tommy jogging after him across the empty parking lot. Eddie huffs, turning back toward his van.

“Fuck off, man,” he says when Tommy gets closer, reaching for the handle of the door.

“No, I’m not— I’m not trying to start shit, I just… I just wanna talk.”

Eddie sighs heavily, turning and leaning against his van, glancing past Tommy.

“Where’s Harrington?”

“He’s with the guys,” Tommy says. “He’s okay, he— he said I could go.”

“What do you want?”

Tommy hesitates, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Eddie’s never seen his face look like this. Uncomfortable, nervous. Not sneering or grimacing or laughing.

“Why’d you help him?” he asks.

Eddie stomach knots. He takes a breath, pressing his lips together.

“He had a panic attack. I know what they’re like, I would’ve helped any of you,” he says honestly.

Tommy hesitates again, nodding and looking away.

“How’d you know what to do?” he asks quietly.

Eddie looks at the ground, biting his lip.

“…I had my first one when I was a kid,” he says finally. “I just… did what would help me. And saw if it helped him, and it did, so.”

Tommy stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide and shining, and Eddie raises his eyebrows before he stands up straight to turn away.

“What do I do?” Tommy bursts.

Eddie looks at him again.

“What?”

Tommy takes a breath, swallowing. His lip quivers for a moment.

“Steve and I… aren’t really as close we used to be, and I don’t know why, but…”

“Have you considered the fact that you’re an asshole?” Eddie says dryly when Tommy pauses. Tommy stares at him blankly.

“He’s still my best friend,” he says quietly. “If that happens again, if he has another… panic attack. What do I do?”

Eddie stares at him, looking at the desperation in his eyes, and he softens again, leaning against the van, twisting the empty bottle in his hand.

“Panic attacks… My first one was because I… thought I had to go somewhere that— that almost… killed me,” he says quietly, staring at the ground of the driveway as he remembers it. Wayne standing by his hospital bed, telling him that he’ll take him home, and the way it felt like the world was ending. He’d thought Wayne meant home to his father, and it was only after a kind nurse managed to calm him down that he found out Wayne meant home.

“Steve’s…” Eddie continues. “I don’t know what happened, and he might not either, really, but whatever it was, even if it was just…” He pauses, shaking his head. “Something like… subconscious or whatever. It feels like… the end. Everything kind of zeroes in on it, and it just takes over.” He looks up at Tommy, who’s listening intently. “He’s not… thinking. There’s no logic, or— or rationalising. Saying stuff like snap out of it or calm down doesn’t mean shit because he can’t.”

Tommy nods, his lips pursing.

“He’s… freaking out,” Eddie continues. “He’s scared, and panicking, so he can’t breathe, which freaks him out more because it— it feels like he’s dying. And he isn’t getting enough air, so he can’t think, so you— you need to get him to breathe.”

“Okay.”

“He might not… want to be touched,” Eddie adds, squeezing the bottle so the plastic crinkles. “‘S why I asked. If he’s too… overwhelmed, it could make it worse. So… Yes or no questions. Is it okay if I touch you, do you wanna hold my hand. Et cetera.”

“Okay,” Tommy says again, softly. Eddie squeezes the bottle again.

“He needed…” He hesitates, watching the plastic move. “He needed to hold something. ‘S why he was pulling his hair so hard, so I offered my hand.” Tommy is nodding like Eddie doesn’t need to explain it, so he stops.

“It might take a while,” Eddie adds, looking at him. “For him to calm down. To— To breathe normally. So just… stay calm. Don’t stress him out more. I made your friends leave because Steve knew they were there, just… watching him.”

“Right,” Tommy says, blinking and looking at the ground like it’s starting to make sense to him. Eddie looks at him, watching the gears turn in his head until Tommy looking back up at him. “Anything else?”

Eddie pauses, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say, remembering Steve’s sad eyes in the hallway, the way he looked at the ground as he walked away.

“Tell him you love him.”

Tommy blinks.

“I don’t—“ Eddie speaks before Tommy can say anything. “I don’t care if you think it’s queer or whatever, it’s…” He takes a deep breath, sighing. “That was scary for him. I mean— like, terrifying. And he’s tired, and frustrated, and confused and probably really fucking embarrassed. Just…” Eddie looks at Tommy intently. “He hates himself right now. Just make sure he knows that you don’t.”

Tommy is silent for a moment before he nods.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Eddie stares back at him, taking a breath, twisting the bottle.

“Thank you,” Tommy says. It sounds forced out, the words too sharp, but his eyes are so earnest that Eddie nods.

“You’re a really shitty guy,” Eddie says after a moment, watching Tommy blink. “But you’re not a terrible friend.”

Tommy scoffs.

“Thanks, man.”

Eddie jerks his chin up toward the school.

“Get outta here,” he says lightly, turning and opening the door of his van.

“Thank you, Eddie,” Tommy says, stepping backward. Eddie’s name stops him short, and he looks at him. His eyebrows are raised slightly, his face firm, earnest. “Seriously.”

Eddie nods, pausing one last time.

“If it happens again,” he says, stepping into the van and standing there, looking at Tommy over the door. “And if you need help. Just… find me.”

Tommy nods.

Eddie goes home.

He heads straight to his room to carefully pin Steve’s drawing to his wall with a blue thumbtack. It goes under a sketch of Eddie’s side profile that he got a little while ago. He looks at the drawings as he changes into some sweatpants and a hoodie, and then he goes to look through the cupboard for tea.

He’s in the middle of doing the dishes when he finally hears a car pull up in front of the trailer, and he exhales, shutting off the water and rushing to snatch a towel to dry his hands as he peeks through the blinds to see Steve’s Beemer.

Steve gets out of the car with a backpack over his shoulder, and Eddie gazes, watching before he goes to open the door as Steve is approaching it.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly when Steve looks up at him. Steve exhales when their eyes meet, his chest shifting, and Eddie aches.

“Hi,” he says, pausing at the bottom of the stars. The sun is setting, and his hair looks golden, lighting him up from behind. Eddie thinks briefly that he looks like an angel.

Eddie beckons with a tilt of his head, and Steve comes up the steps. He sets his bag on the ground by the door, and he’s pulling Eddie into his arms before the door is even shut all the way shut.

part 13

read the whole thing on ao3

tagging @thehumblefigtree @sideblogofthcentury @221b1tch <3

comment to be tagged in part thirteen :)

#not me just now realising that i haven't been utilising the title feature of text posts and its probably been very confusing to all of you #i apologise #im gonna go back through all the other parts and add titles #anyway #tommy h is now an oc of mine he doesn't belong to the duffers #(for legal reasons That Is A Joke)#very stoked about p13 its going to be extremely fluffy and soft buckle up #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #love me softly

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