@scooprtroopr ur tags on this post inspired a lil something and well, here you go friend <3 / also omg this fits for @steddie-week’s prompt pining! tehe / you can also read it over on ao3 :)
Steve gets that this is how karma works.
You do something bad, you don’t have the best intentions, you trample on one or two people’s feelings selfishly, yadda yadda. Then what do you know? Next month, it’s happening to you. What goes around comes around, right?
That’s how karma works. Steve gets that.
And yet, the sting in the morning when another hookup has crept out in the night feels so goddamn unshakeable. It slices through his ego, hitting every feeling on the way, and cuts right down the bone, and it hurts.
But it’s karma though, Steve knows that. He’s left a girl more than once or twice, and snuck back out the window he had crept into. Stumbled back to his car in the early morning hours.
(Steve pointedly ignores the old part of him that was- is so hesitant to stay — after the iciness of his first ever hookup, who had wrinkled her nose at the thought of him staying the night.
Who had patted him on the cheek in a near condescending way, a girl the year above him, and said, “Don’t overstay your welcome, yeah?”)
So when the other side of the bed is empty when he wakes, he knows he’s lost another game of ‘who can sneak out on who?’
Which Steve hates — it’s why he stopped going over to his dates house and instead started bringing them back to his. Hoping they might read that his invitation to stay the night extended right out til breakfast. Hell, til lunch if they wanted.
No one has come close to overstaying their welcome in the Harrington house.
Empty sheets rip a new ache in Steve’s chest and he groans, a pitiful noise because— of course, he hasn’t stayed.
Karma has the biggest bone to pick with Steve Harrington and he was really hoping it would be done after all these years. Evidently not.
But… Steve can’t help how much more this one hurts because this one was Eddie.
Steve tries to not let regret coil in his gut. Rolling over he buries his face into his pillow, eyes scrunched shut as he tries to think it over logically. Rationally. Ignores the burning in his throat.
Maybe he’s a fool for thinking Eddie would be different from the past.
But the buildup — before there had been flirting, there had been friendship, proper company between the two of them where there were no expectations. That may very well be due to the fact both of them were dudes but… Steve was so sure. So much of him believed Eddie would still be here when he woke up.
Steve huffs a loud sigh into the pillow. Pretends his chest doesn’t hurt a little bit.
“It’s fine,” He murmurs to himself, voice thick with sleep. His fists clench into the sheets for a moment. “It’s fine.”
He drags himself up and out of bed. Tugs on some stray sweats hanging over the back of his desk chair and ducks into the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, hair tousled and eyes still sleepy, Steve eyes the shower through the reflection. He should, probably, but he might get stuck on a loop in there.
Where did he go wrong this time? Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t any of them stay? Why did—
Steve splashes cold water on his face instead, rubbing probably a bit too forcefully at his eyes. He spies the faint pink shape of Eddie’s lips, a mark left on his neck. His fingers grace over it lightly, softly, like a lover would.
Memories hazed with lust remind him of how it had got there, Eddie’s body on his, Eddie’s hands in his hair, Eddie— without thinking, Steve scrubs at the skin harshly. He wishes it wasn’t there. Wishes there wasn’t any remnant of Eddie left behind.
Steve doesn’t need any mementos to remind him he’s been left behind again.
He needs food, needs to get on with his day, Steve decides. The bathroom door swings closed behind him and Steve tries his best to wrangle his thoughts as he wanders out to the top of the stairs.
A run. That’s what he needs to clear his head. A long run til his heart is pounding in his chest so hard it hurts, til his muscles start burning, breathes coming too fast and his head is finally fucking quiet. Yep, that’s precisely what he needs to shake the sting of last night.
Steve’s so enwrapped in his head, thoughts swirling, that he get manages to get halfway down the hall to the kitchen before he hears the radio. It’s not loud, just enough to carry out the kitchen. Strange. He doesn’t remember leaving it on last night.
His feet carry him into the kitchen, another yawn creeping up and he rubs at his eyes, blinking a bit blearily and— and stops in his tracks. There’s someone at the stove.
Eddie’s at the stove.
Standing in the morning sunlight, hair lighter than ever, puckered scars along his arms standing out. He’s clearly ransacked Steve’s drawers, a pair of Steve’s plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, his own softened band tee from yesterday still on. It’s had its sleeves hacked off, the fabric curling up into little rolls. Steve feels his stomach rise halfway up his throat, his hopes going with it. His heart does a strange stumbling pitter-patter.
He must make a noise because suddenly Eddie’s peaking over his shoulder and smiling at him.
“Hey,” Eddie says, shifting a bit to turn more toward him. Steve can see that he’s cooking, something delicious wafting up from the sizzling pan. His chest tightens, pure surprise wrapping around his sternum and gripping - so much, he can’t control the expression on his face.
“Hi,” Steve breathes. He’s still frozen where he is. He stayed. Steve blinks, taking in the scene before him; Eddie has clearly been puttering around, putting together some sort of breakfast. He fucking stayed and he’s cooking.
Eddie takes it the wrong way. He skittishly looks over the benches, covered in his mess, and tugs on the ends of his hair nervously. “I- it’s a mess, I know, I’m real sorry. I was gonna clean it, I just thought you might like…”
He trails off, unable to get a read on Steve’s expression. Steve doesn’t blame him but he can’t fucking stop his chest from feeling like it’s being pulled open, his heart from feeling like it’s soaring. He huffs an awed laugh, a smile curling at his lips.
Eddie deflates a bit in his relief, giving his own smile. He turns back to the stove quickly, giving the skillet a bit of a shake to keep it from burning and Steve draws closer, feet finally moving. Eddie watches him from the corner of his eye, barely biting back his grin as Steve gets closer. He hovers, feels the heat of Eddie’s back they’re so close.
He tries to feel brave — he stayed — and keeps his closeness, peering over Eddie’s shoulder at the skillet on the stove. It’s the Munson Special that Eddie’s cooked a few times for him over at the trailer; eggs, potatoes, shit tons of cheese, maybe a vegetable if he’s feeling healthy.
“Was gonna bring it to you in bed, but,” Eddie laughs, still tinged in nervousness. He sets down the spatula to tuck his hair behind both ears, glancing sideways at Steve as if trying to understand his silence.
He stayed and he cooked and he’s nervous. Steve thinks he might be holding his breath in disbelief, head dizzy with relief. With affection.
Very slowly, Steve’s hands move and, like he’s waiting for Eddie to flinch away, settles then very gently onto Eddie’s waist. His fingers curl into the soft fabric and Eddie makes a little chirp of happiness and leans back.
Leans into Steve a bit, like he wants his touch the morning after everything and Steve releases a shuddering breath, hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder. His hands grow a little more bold, sliding around to hug him around the middle.
Eddie’s cheeks have turned pink and his grin hasn’t faltered.
“Made me—” Steve starts, but his voice is a bit raspy. He clears his throat, avoids Eddie’s burning stare. “Y’made me breakfast?”
Eddie nods, his curls brushing against Steve’s cheek as he does. His tummy is warm beneath Steve’s hand and his hair smells good and Steve just wants to burrow into him- he tucks himself closer and is rewarded with a content noise from Eddie.
“That’s not weird, is it?” Eddie asks suddenly, picking up the spatula again and beginning to fiddle needlessly with the food. He flips it once, then again, so it’s on the same side as it was before.
He sounds a bit sheepish when he says, “I’m not sure- I haven’t ever really— I’m actually just gonna shut the hell up before I say anything stupid.”
Steve laughs quietly. His hands tighten around Eddie’s middle, head tilting so he can bury his grin into his shoulder— his heart is going haywire, going a million miles an hour, because karma is finally through with Steve Harrington and he gets to have this.
“S’not weird,” Steve mumbles. He thinks about pressing a kiss into Eddie’s shoulder.
“Ha, you said snot,” Eddie retorts with a childish snort and Steve can’t help it, he laughs at that too, muffled laughter into his t-shirt. Then he presses a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder, quick as lightning. Rests his chin back on it like nothing happened.
Eddie still stiffens just a bit- turns his head just a bit to glance at Steve and fuck, Steve can’t help the way his stomach swoops.
Because Eddie softens him unbearably with those nervous brown eyes, his pink lips twisted as he tries to hold back his grin. Steve’s beginning to understand that both of them seem equally surprised that this is happening.
Eddie’s free hand moves, pausing only briefly in a moment's hesitance, before it covers one of Steve’s on his tummy. It’s cold, much colder than Steve’s, and he covers it with one of his own instinctively.
Eddie’s trembling fingers give him a little squeeze. Steve thinks he must be able to feel how hard his heart is beating from where his chest is pressed against his back. It’s a lot to deal with; this perfect morning in the sun, the soft sound of the radio, the sweet boy in his arms.
They’re both grinning to themselves. Eddie focuses back on the food before him, doing all his work with one hand, and starts a little hum.
The radio switches to a love song.
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Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here
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