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Normally, Steve could take a joke.
He had built his entire high school career on taking a joke. That was how things had to run when you were popular. You sharpened your fangs against your ‘friends’ with thinly veiled insults and haughty looks to keep them in line. And, if you were the coolest and the coldest, you got treated like royalty, because everyone was too afraid of what you might do to even dream of tearing you down.
Steve, who had spent his entire life watching his parents be cool and cold had risen to the top of the food chain with ease. He had become an Apex Predator in just his sophomore year, somehow hiding that he wasn’t like the rest of them in the slightest. He managed to conceal the fact that he cried every single time his father cut him to ribbons, and that he would sometimes have silent breakdowns in the bathroom when he got another failing grade.
He never let them see his underbelly, never let them know when the words they casually shot at him carved into soft flesh, instead of the core of solid rock they all thought he had.
It was survival, and Steve was good at surviving.
Until he wasn’t.
Until Nancy Wheeler had burst into his life like the star she was, thawing Steve out with her unstoppable warmth. She made him care so much he felt like he was bleeding out. She made him save her life, only to take his from him, alongside everything else he thought he was. Nancy showed him that, at her core, she was made of the strongest steel in the world.
And a soft boy like him never stood a chance with a girl like that.
Hell, a soft boy like him didn’t stand a chance anywhere apparently. Because, as it turned out, it wasn’t just the popular kids. Everyone was like this.
He had traded the jocks for a group of teenage brats, and he had traded a girlfriend who never loved him for a best friend who called him a Dingus and saved his life on a thousand different occasions.
Yet, despite their claims of being oh so different, his new family still managed to insult Steve at least five times in every conversation. They still tore into him the same exact way.
At least with them he knew it came from a place of love. He knew that they adored him.
Except, underneath that logical understanding, Steve really, really, didn’t know at all. He could hope, and he could pretend, but sometimes he stayed up all night wondering if he was anything more than a convenient ride for the kids to mooch off of, or an easy ear for Robin to talk to.
It wasn’t a fair thing to think, but he couldn’t help himself. Steve let himself be weak when he was alone in bed, and he stayed strong during the day when he was with them all. He could play along. He could give as good as he got. He had done this his entire life.
But there were times it was just…exhausting. Times where he was tired of being the ‘stupid’ one, the one that was ‘all brawn and no brains’. Times where being the babysitter who could never win a fight yet kept trying made him want to pull at his hair, or curl up into a ball.
There were times where he just wanted his boyfriend to comfort him without a joke at his expense.
Still, it felt hypocritical to complain when Eddie teased him, because Steve was always teasing back. It was stupid to single out his boyfriend for saying things that the rest of their group said all the time. It was just how they were, just how their relationship went. The teasing was a part of their ‘thing’.
They were the couple that wasn’t afraid to mock each other, the couple that was strong enough to withstand a little banter.
All of their friends always praised them for that. Nothing Eddie said ever bothered Steve, and nothing Steve said ever bothered Eddie. They had never had a fight, never needed to go beyond a few silly insults and a soft kiss. That was what made them a ‘good’ match.
But Steve couldn’t manage to bite his tongue any more tonight. He had just pulled a double shift at work, his parents were breathing down his neck about moving out, and their old English teacher had kept him late for fifteen minutes past closing just to lecture Steve on the proper words to use when ‘greeting a lady’.
“She wanted me to say ‘salutations’ to her. Salutations! What is wrong with ‘Hi there Mrs. Fuller,’? Nothing! Nothing is wrong with it,’” Steve said in a tizzy, ripping his stupid vest off and practically throwing himself into bed next to Eddie. His boyfriend wrapped him up from behind like a teddy bear, and Steve trapped Eddie’s forearms against his chest, blowing his breath out in an irritated huff.
“And then she said that clearly she must have failed when making the effort to instruct me, because I not only lacked respectable etiquette, but I also did not manage to succeed in getting into a single college that I attempted to apply for!” Steve tacked on.
“Ouch. Low blow, Fuller, low blow,” Eddie hissed, kissing the back of Steve’s neck in the place that always made him squirm in the worst way. He never liked things touching his neck anymore.
“No one says ‘salutations’ except 90 year old women and stupid kids who want to sound like they’re smart,” Steve grumbled, letting the low vibration of Eddie’s laughter race up his spine and leech away the tension sitting in his shoulders.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, surrounding himself in nothing but Eddie. Steve was somewhere safe now. There wasn’t anyone here who wanted to cut him up or tear him down. It was just Eddie. Loving, sweet, Eddie.
“Poor, Sunshine. Still, this is what you get for working minimum wage,”
Steve’s vision went white.
He tried. He really did. Steve did his best to hold onto the soft cooing tone that Eddie had used, and the gentle kiss to his temple that came along with the words, but there was no chance. He couldn’t swallow it down anymore, couldn’t hide the way his heart was bleeding out, and anger was forcing its way to the surface no matter what he did to hold it back.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked as Steve ripped himself out of his boyfriend’s arms, standing up and starting to pace. The question only made the bitter feelings grow even more, his fingers starting to tremble as TV static filled his body.
“You’re seriously asking me what’s wrong right now?” Steve snapped, losing control. This was the same kind of anger he had felt when confronting Jonathan all those years ago, the kind of anger Steve avoided at all costs.
It usually made him say stupid shit he always regretted.
“I just got done telling you about how a woman told me I’m stupid right to my face, and your response is it’s my own damn fault?! From the guy that doesn’t even have a job,”
Steve needed to stop. He had already said enough to make nausea start, and he knew that he would be staying up wracked with guilt for at least a week after that last comment. Eddie was trying to find a job, no one in Hawkins would hire him. That wasn’t his fault.
He needed to stop. He couldn’t.
“It was just a joke, babe, that’s all,” Eddie said, sitting up. His shoulders were hunched in tight, and Steve could practically see the walls he was starting to put up to try and protect himself.
“Yeah, well excuse me for not thinking your ‘jokes’ are all that funny,” He spat out, rolling his eyes. Now they were both on the defensive, and that was never good. Steve just needed to take a breath or walk away or do anything except keep this going.
He kept going.
“I know we all decided that it’s hilarious to mock Steve for being the dumb one who can’t do anything but stack tapes for a living, but guess what? It isn’t.”
“When did I even say that?!” Eddie demanded to know, standing up and using the single inch he had on Steve to try and tower over him.
“It’s all I hear from any of you,” Steve shot back, hating that his voice was starting to waver, hating that his lip was starting to wobble. He wanted to be strong through all of this, and wanted to pretend he had the same steel the rest of the world got to have.
But he didn’t. Steve was still a soft boy through and through, and Eddie was finally beginning to see that weakness break through the facade Steve put on.
“I didn’t say that. Stevie, I would never say that,” Eddie insisted, dropping some of his anger and reaching out.
If Steve was smart, he would let Eddie sweep him up in his arms. He would pretend that this outburst was just the result of a bad work day and not enough sleep. They could fall back into bed and hold each other and whisper apologies, and the world would move on.
That’s what Steve would do if he was smart. But, Steve was an idiot, so he kept clinging onto that bitterness, holding onto that pain he had lived with for so long.
“Okay. Fine. You would never say that,” Steve said in an extremely sarcastic tone that showed just how far from the truth that statement really was, “Let’s play a game then. When was the last time you said anything actually nice to me that wasn’t some comment about how hot my ass is or how great I am in bed?”
There was only a few feet of space between them, but it felt like miles. They were on completely different planets. Steve was practically panting, breathing heavily and shaking as his anger and his hurt overtook his entire body, and Eddie was completely still, frozen solid. Steve wasn’t even sure his boyfriend was breathing, just staring at him with confusion and a touch of remorse.
And then Eddie’s face darkened, and Steve knew for a fact things were definitely about to get worse, not better.
“And what about you?” Eddie asked, flipping the script.
“What about me?” He asked dumbly, unable to follow the thread that Eddie had suddenly pulled on.
“You think I like hearing you trash my music and tell me that it’s just screeching that hurts your ears?” Eddie shouted, slapping Steve in the face with the accusations, “You think it’s easy for me to listen to you talk about ‘trading me in for a newer model’? Trust me sweetheart, I doubt you’ll get anyone else who wants to put up with all this,”
Eddie finished that last statement by gesturing to Steve’s entire body, his entire soul, and he couldn't help the way that made him flinch back. Eddie’s pet names were one of the things Steve normally loved most about their relationship, but this time it felt like an insult, and not like love.
“I didn’t-”
“Didn’t mean anything by it? Neither did I but you’re still biting my head off,” Eddie interrupted, running a hand through his hair and laughing incredulously, “I ate your last cupcake two days ago, and you told me you hated me. That you hated me. Over a damn cupcake.”
Steve could barely breathe now, but he did remember that. It was just an offhand comment, a roll-his-eyes-and-sigh kind of sentence that came with a kiss and a dab of frosting on the tip of Eddie’s nose. Steve had thought that would be enough to show he didn’t mean it, that he would never mean that.
Except hadn’t the same thing just happened in bed less than ten minutes ago, but it was Steve who took the joke too personally?
And Eddie hadn’t said anything nearly as bad as telling Steve he hated him.
God, he was going to leave him, wasn’t he? Eddie was going to leave, and he would be right to leave. Steve had once again driven off the best thing that had ever happened to him, except this time it was without a doubt entirely his own fault.
He at least needed to tell Eddie the truth before he kicked him out though. Steve owed him that much.
“I don’t hate you,” He whispered, the words coming out sharp and wooden as he continued to stare at the ground between them. If he wasn’t a coward, Steve would say what he really felt, the three little words he hadn’t been able to say yet. Now he was never going to get the chance.
“Yeah, I know that, Steve,” Eddie sighed, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed, “But it’s not like you’re showering me with love and affection either,”
Steve. Not Stevie, not Sunshine, not Angel, not Darling, not Babe. Not even Sweetheart. Just Steve.
He couldn’t remember the last time Eddie had just called him Steve, and that felt like the final nail in the coffin for the best relationship he was ever going to get to have. The best person he was ever going to get to have.
Steve crossed his arms tight across his stomach, trying to hold himself together.
“So what now?” He managed to croak out, his eyes flitting up for a brief second before going back to staring at his socked feet. Eddie had one hand over his eyes, his head drooping low as his hair hung in front of his face, obscuring any reaction he might have been having.
“What do you mean?” Eddie asked numbly.
“I mean- Are you-” Steve forced a deep breath in, choking out the question he desperately didn’t want to ask, but needed the answer to.
“Are we breaking up?”
Steve bit his lip harshly, slamming his eyes shut. It was a different question this time, but the principle was the same. He was truly reliving his worst nightmare all over again.
You don’t love me?
Here it was. Once again he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t enough at all. Another one had figured out that Steve was just bullshit, and he was going to have to just stand here and take it as they told him.
“Steve, it’s one fight. God you’re- Woah,” Eddie cut himself off mid irritated mutter. Presumably he had finally looked up and seen how close Steve was to completely losing it. Steve had no way of knowing, he couldn’t make his eyes open.
“Baby?”
Steve let out a breathless little laugh, practically hyperventilating as he moved his hands up to press against his chest. His heart was racing way too fast, and a wave of vertigo crashed over his entire body. He was too cold and too hot all at the same time.
Jesus H Christ it was going to be hard to explain to the paramedics that he had fainted because his boyfriend broke up with him.
“Okay come here,” Eddie ordered, and Steve went easily. Doing as he was told made sense. He could do that. He could. He opened his eyes just enough to shuffle closer, and the second he was within reach, Eddie grabbed his shirt, tugging Steve in.
He settled Steve in his lap, curling one arm around his waist and burying the other in Steve’s hair. Eddie pushed his boyfriend’s face into his neck and hummed softly as Steve tried to calm down. Steve looped his own arms around Eddie’s shoulders, fisting his hands into Eddie’s soft graphic tee and pressing himself as close as he could possibly get to the man he loved.
“I don’t hate you,” Steve repeated, the words breaking into tiny fine pieces against Eddie’s skin. He needed Eddie to know that at least. He needed it.
“And I don’t think you’re stupid,” Eddie said, continuing to run his fingers through Steve’s hair, “We’re all upset over saying things we don’t even think are true,”
“Then why do we keep saying them?” Steve asked in a whisper. Eddie shrugged, continuing to rock them both slowly from side to side as the anger melted away. The fear was still there, Steve wasn’t sure it would ever fade completely, but Eddie wasn’t breaking up with him right this minute, and that was enough to get him at least somewhat calmer.
When Steve’s breathing had finally evened out, Eddie pulled his hand away, making Steve look up just enough so he could cup his face.
“You, Steve Harrington, are not stupid,” Eddie stated, swiping his thumb across Steve’s cheek, “You’re probably one of the smartest people I know,”
“We don’t need to go that far,” Steve murmured, trying to duck his head away.
They were friends with veritable super geniuses. Steve was average, at best.
“Hey,” Eddie said in a soft warning tone, trailing his hand down to grab Steve’s chin and force him to face him again, “You are, Stevie. You see things in a way that no one else I know sees things. It’s totally wicked.”
Steve reached up, wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s and closing his eyes.
“I like your music,” Steve admitted, a smile curling up on his face for the first time since he had entered the trailer, “I like when we're in the car and you turn it up really loud, and I can barely hear you over the bass. You’re always so happy, and it makes everything feel so real,”
Eddie kissed the tip of his nose, and Steve chuckled, gathering the courage to open his eyes again. Eddie was looking at him, just looking, but there was still affection, still fondness.
Still love, if Steve let himself believe that there was a hope Eddie loved him after all of this.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded, and his boyfriend tapped his thigh twice, a silent cue for him to stand, “Then let’s try something,”
Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand maneuvering them so they were lying down on the bed once more, but instead of facing each other or one wrapped up by the other, they were back to back.
“One of us asks the other a question, and the other has to be completely and totally honest, okay? This way we don’t have to worry about how the other person reacts,” Eddie suggested.
It was a good plan, a smart work around plan, the kind of thing Eddie always came up with. A rush of love for his silly kind-hearted boy ran through Steve’s body and he nodded.
“Need your words here, Sunshine. That’s kind of the whole point,” Eddie teased.
“Okay,” Steve agreed softly, taking another deep breath. He was back to being ‘Sunshine’, not ‘Steve’. Eddie wasn’t mad anymore. Things were okay.
“What other things have I said that were upsetting?” Eddie must have felt him stiffen up, because he quickly added on, “You don’t need to tell me everything if you can’t, but generally,”
An answer came to Steve’s mind immediately. A dozen answers did. What didn’t come was the bravery it took to say them. Steve opened his mouth, but nothing happened. After a too long silence, Steve felt a soft touch against the back of his hand, and he turned his palm so Eddie could interlock their fingers, giving him a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“When you talk about how I didn’t get into college, it makes me feel bad.” Steve said hesitantly. Eddie squeezed his hand again, and Steve took the leap, adding on another, “And…I don’t like the whole ‘my little housewife’ thing. I think it’s, well, it doesn’t make me feel good,”
It was humiliating. It made Steve feel deeply uncomfortable inside of himself.
Yeah, he liked to cook, and he kept his house tidy, but that didn’t make him suddenly a woman. It was hard enough for Steve to admit to himself that he wanted Eddie, that it wasn’t bad for him to date a man or want things that he had never let himself want before.
Having everyone all of a sudden act like he was the ‘woman’ in their relationship because of the things he had always liked to do made him feel small and weak, and Steve’s teeth clenched up tight anytime one of their usual ragging sessions started when they found him in the kitchen or washing the windows.
“I never really felt that okay with that one either. I shouldn’t have gone along with it, and I’m sorry,” Eddie apologized, as if it was as easy as breathing, “Gender roles are bullshit even when it’s a straight couple, and we should be setting a better example. Especially with Will, and Mike, and whatever is going on there,”
The apology floored Steve. Eddie apologized to him all the time for little things, but this was a big thing. The whole conversation was big. A little too big, the enormity of this whole thing was starting to get overwhelming.
“I know it’s stupid. They’re just jokes, and I’m being ridiculous,” Steve managed to stutter out, needing to diminish the moment, to push down how much it meant to him for Eddie to just own up to hurting him and promise to do better.
“Hey. That’s not what we’re doing right now. We’re being honest.” Eddie said as a gentle reminder, “Why don’t I go now?”
“Yes please,” Steve sighed, grateful to be out of the hot seat.
Eddie let out a long heavy sigh, and Steve tapped on their joined fingers. He knew firsthand how hard this was, he had just done it himself.
“I don’t like that you always have something to say about how messy my room is. It isn’t easy for me to stay organized like it is for you, and I always feel bad when we come here because I know you’re gonna say something,” Eddie explained slowly, choosing what he said with care.
Immediately Eddie’s words tripped a question Steve had forgotten, something he had been meaning to ask about, but never remembered to mention.
It was weird. From the start of their relationship, the trailer had kind of been their home base. It was cozy, it felt safe, and Wayne was the sweetest guy alive. He and Steve had struck up an easy going friendship, and Steve had even started coming over when Eddie wasn’t even there, just to watch games or make Wayne dinner before an all night shift.
Steve hated his house, Eddie loved his home, it only made sense that they would spend more time at the trailer.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Eddie had started wanting to go to Steve’s place instead.
“Is that why we started staying at my place more often?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer.
“Mhm,” Eddie said with a nod that Steve felt, but didn’t see, “I just felt…judged. Or like you were seeing parts of me you didn’t want to see,”
“I don’t think there are any parts of you I don’t want to see,” Steve offered, loving the feeling of Eddie laughing against his back. He drank in the warmth of that for a second, before asking a follow up question, “Do you also not like it when I straighten up?”
“No, that's super sweet. It’s really nice,” Eddie said quickly.
Maybe a bit too quickly. Steve stayed quiet, giving Eddie’s hand his own squeeze, waiting to see if there was maybe a lie there, or an attempt to soften a blow.
“Hey, totally honest right now, I promise,” Eddie swore, catching why Steve was hesitating, “I do like it, it makes me feel loved, and it’s really nice that you want to take care of me and Wayne that way. I just don’t like when it comes with a bunch of teasing and mean comments, ya feel?”
“Alright. I’ll try not to say anything like that anymore,” Steve replied, mentally making a note to watch more carefully for what might slip out, “What else?”
Another pause, but this one didn’t give Steve any anxiety. This wasn’t an easy conversation, but they were doing it together, and he was content to wait. Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.
This was just Eddie teaching Steve how to love him better. Thinking about it that way made it easier. It wasn’t criticism, it wasn’t all the ways he was screwing up. Just teaching. Steve was getting to learn more about his favorite person in the entire world.
“The hot wiring jokes,”
Steve made a soft questioning noise, not quite following where Eddie was going.
“The jokes about how I know how to hot wire and jerry rig stuff, and that I save everything instead of just buying something new like a normal person” Eddie clarified, pausing before dropping his voice into a whisper, “Makes me feel like trailer park trash,”
“I would never-” Steve stopped himself, biting his tongue. Sure, he would never mean to make Eddie feel that way, but he had. Apparently a lot if it was bothering his love this much.
Steve breathed. It wasn’t criticism. It was learning. Eddie wasn’t leaving.
“I don’t think you’re trailer park trash, and I wish I hadn’t made you feel that way.” Steve said. Eddie’s admission had jogged something in his mind, and Steve worked his jaw back and forth wondering if he should say it.
Total honesty. That’s what they had promised, wasn’t it?
“I don’t like it when you talk about how rich I am either,” He admitted, cringing at how silly that sounded when it was out in the air.
“Really?” Eddie asked.
He didn’t sound like he was mocking Steve, and Steve couldn’t see his boyfriend’s face, so he just had to trust that he was genuinely curious.
“The money didn’t matter. It didn’t mean they loved me,” Steve said. The oldest pain he had began to sing once more, making his heart ache the way it always did when any of them called him a ‘rich boy’. They all always made comments about how cool it was that he got to live in a huge mansion in Loch Nora, and how he almost always had the place all to himself.
No one had ever really stopped to wonder if Steve wanted to be on his own so much.
“I would’ve given all of that up in a heartbeat just to get a single day of having someone like Wayne,” Steve muttered, swallowing down the lump that was starting to build in his throat.
“Oh, baby,” Eddie murmured, clutching onto Steve’s fingers tightly.
All Steve wanted to do was turn, kiss Eddie, and hold him close, but he resisted the urge. This was important.
So on it went.
Steve learned that Eddie couldn’t stand anyone saying they hated him, even as a joke, and he didn’t like to be touched unless the person announced themself somehow so he knew it was someone friendly. He didn’t mind having a drink every so often, and he loved to smoke, but he hated whenever he was pressured into drinking or made fun of for wanting a night off. He loathed the word ‘Freak’.
Eddie learned that Steve absolutely would fall apart if he thought he was being abandoned or told that he was a failure, and anything on his neck was a no-go. He liked when Robin called him ‘Dingus’, but hearing it from anyone else made him feel like an idiot. The word ‘bullshit’ made him want to die.
Neither of them liked being called stupid, ever, even as a joke. There were too many memories of years and years of never measuring up to the standards set, of always being torn apart by teachers and friends alike. They both needed to hear more about the things that they liked about each other, and less of the things that they didn’t.
“So, what do we do now?” Steve asked when they were done, feeling like a washcloth that had been used and wrung out a thousand times.
Eddie shifted behind him, and Steve silently followed suit, turning over so they were facing each other. They had held onto each other the whole time, and they didn’t let go now, pressing their joined hands against their chests.
“Everyone always talks about how good it is that we never fight. That we can just say anything to each other,” Steve sighed.
He had always been scared of boundaries in romantic relationships, scared that they would grow and become walls that he couldn’t climb. Everything with Nancy had just proven to him that he was right, and after her, Steve had never thought he could find another person he wouldn’t have walls with.
He never wanted to hurt Eddie, but the thought of this being the start of their walls made him sick inside.
“Well, we just had our first fight, so we’re over the hump,” Eddie teased, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s lips. Steve started to deepen the kiss, wanting the physical reassurance if he couldn’t have the mental, but Eddie pulled back, needing to finish his thought. Like he somehow knew what Steve was worrying over now that they had laid it all out.
“I think it’s good that we have some things we can’t say to each other.” Eddie said.
“You do?” Steve wondered, not really sure how that somehow made them better instead of more guarded and on edge around each other.
“It means we trusted each other enough to say that we got hurt,” Eddie let their heads fall together, closing his eyes, “It means we loved each other enough not to let that break us apart,”
Steve finally let go of Eddie, bringing his hands up to dance his fingers along the other boy’s sharp jawline, and his high cheekbones.
“I don’t hate you,” Steve whispered. He still couldn’t say what he meant. Taking that leap was just too much right now. But he was close, oh so close, and it seemed like Eddie knew it.
“I love you too, Stevie,” His boyfriend said, smiling and turning his head to press a kiss to Steve’s palm, “And I’m okay with waiting until you’re ready to say it back,”
It would be the perfect time to say it. The perfect moment. But Steve wasn’t perfect, and they weren’t perfect, so he let what they had be more than enough.
It wasn’t perfect. It never would be. They still slipped up, still got angry and said things that they didn’t mean. That was human, and it was okay.
It wasn’t perfect, but they were better about saying when things went too far, better at telling each other how they needed to be loved.
It wasn’t perfect. It was a start.