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Hawkins Indiana, trailer park: Ms Mayfields trailer sat still and quiet in the late hours of the night, holding 7 sleeping strangers alongside her own daughter- unbeknownst to Ms Mayfield herself.
It was pure luck that Max’s mum had to work a double, pure luck that she wasn’t passed out on the couch surrounded by beer cans while the peculiar group snuck in at sundown.
The group of people that had just climbed (fell?) out of hell itself -whom had charged for the closest sanctuary they could get while sneaking around a wanted murderer- consisted of Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Dustin Henderson and the man himself- Eddie Munson.
What little sunlight they had left was spent listening to the horrifying vision that Nancy fell victim to, before jumping straight into arguing and planning the best course of action for how to defeat the viney monster the children had named ‘Vecna’.
It was a little before 12 when a solid plan was made, the first step being guns and ammunition, lots of ammunition, which was unfortunately closed for the night. Figures.
With no other choice but to wait until morning to make the drive to the gun shop, everyone decided to get some well deserved rest.
Now, in the early hours of the morning, even breathing and quiet snores fill the two miniature bedrooms of the trailer, all except for Eddie and Steve.
The two men are perched on the coach as they go over the plan for the 10th time… Or Steve goes over the plan for the 10th time, looking for any inconsistencies while Eddie nods along, zoning in and out with exhaustion but never failing to be bought back by Steve’s touch.
The coach isn’t that small, theres no need for them to be so close together, close enough to brush knees and elbows and freeze in place at the warm, welcoming feeling of their upper arms meeting. And while it’s not needed, it’s definitely not weird, not after Eddies little ‘if you love her, get her back’ speech in the upside down.
That’s right, the small grazes of skin and the quick glances are no where near weird now that the tension between former bully, King Steve and present Freak, Eddie Munson have been cleared.
It’s true that Eddie knew Steve still had a thing for Nancy, could see it in the way he looked at her, but it was still difficult to mean those words he spoke in the woods when Steve’s longing eyes kept glancing down at Eddies lips- or maybe that was just his imagination. It was hard to distinguish fantasy from reality when your highschool crush is sporting your denim vest and looking a little too good in it.
“-Ong?”
“Huh?”
“Come on Munson, focus. I said what song are you going to play to distract the bats?”
“Ha, like you would know any of my music” Eddie laughs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Am I missing something here? Since when does Steve Harrington listen to metal?”
“Cut me some slack, I enjoy AC/DC from time to time”
“Man, you continue to surprise me”
Steve nudges Eddies shoulder in reply, emitting another laugh from Eddies lips.
The truth is, Steve can’t help but be pulled to the shorter male. Everything about him is so intriguing, his laugh, his confidence, his humour. Every touch from the man short-circuits Steve’s brain as he fumbles to find a quick comeback to keep up his cool facade, trying and failing more and more as the days progress. Crazy as it is to be intrigued by the guy that held a broken beer bottle up to your neck just days before.. not that it meant anything! He still had feelings for Nancy… right?
Steve is pulled out of his thoughts by the faint lyrics of Kate Bush as Max makes her way to the kitchen, headphones on full volume over her ginger hair and dark circles decorating her under eyes, making it apparent that she hasn’t slept in awhile.
Making her way back with a full glass of water, Steve draws for her attention as he displays a thumbs up over his worried facial features. Max reciprocates the hand gesture without a word as she continues off to her room, thankful for Steve’s silent understanding and worry.
Eddie was the first to fall asleep, arm draped over the back of the couch while his head lulled back. Steve soon followed, tired body thankfully opting to lay back into the couch- into Eddie- instead of falling forward and into the wooden coffee table.
It was around 6am when Max re-emerged from her room at the first rays of sunlight, before turning heel and running back to wake the others up. Sleepy but alert, everyone makes their way out before stopping in-front or the couch, only to be met with Steve and Eddie who have been found cuddling into each-other- sleepily unaware.
Steve has made himself all too comfortable resting his head upon Eddies chest, while the shorter male has draped his arm around Steve. It’s not their fault, sleep makes you do weird things all the time: sleepwalking, sleep talking, snoring, kicking, sleepily embracing your new friend. But that doesn’t stop Robins sinister smirk as she whisper yells for Max to get her camera out.
Dashing off once again, Max returns with her camera in hand before taking a photo of the two men. The snap unfortunately wakes them, to which they’re greeted to a room full of eyes ranging from confused, amused and Robins signature look of ‘we’re gonna talk about this later’. Confused, it takes Steve a little too long to realise that he is resting atop of Eddies chest. Just as he connects the dots, Eddie wastes no time in untangling his arm from Steve’s torso as they both depart from each-other, faces burning red.
“Best get on the road, lovebirds” Lucas snickers, to which Robin cackles.
A few more chuckles are heard as everyone begins packing their things. Steve and Eddie remain on opposite sides of the couch, shock and confusion lacing their thoughts as Eddie desperately tries to meet Steve’s gaze that is firmly fixated on the floor.
Eddie doesn’t understand it, why the taller male can’t look at him right now. It’s not like it meant anything to Steve, he’s straight. So why was he so red?
Feeling Eddies dark brown eyes burning into the side of his face, Steve abruptly stands before rushing to the bathroom. In reality, Steve’s avoiding the situation because of guilt. Through the tired fog of last night, he knows he leaned into Eddie, feeling all too content when the shorter males arm wrapped warmly around him.
But how could he tell Eddie that when he couldn’t even look him in the eye?
Deciding that there’s much more important things to worry about right now, Steve decides to figure his shit out later. So everyone heads out -stolen van now theirs- on their way to kill Vecna.
‘Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or anything’
Steve had said half heartedly before turning his back to Eddie once they were in the upside down again, and maybe it was the word cute, or the cold shoulder he had been receiving all day, or the lingering scent of Steve’s hairspray on his shirt that just wouldn’t go away, but Eddie knew he had to say something before it was too late.
“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls out, immediately regretting it the moment they make eye contact.
He hesitates, words dying in his throat. What was he gonna say anyways? Be safe? I like you? Last night was the best sleep I’ve ever had? Don’t go? There’s nothing he could say to change what they had to do, what they couldn’t be, so he begrudgingly landed on
“Make him pay”
With nothing more than a nod from the taller male, the group departs as the plan begins.
As his sides burn and his head dizzies with the deafening flurry of bat wings closing in around him, despite the metallic taste of blood quickly filling his mouth, all Eddie can think about is short brown hair and a cocky smile, and the regret of his last words ever spoken to Steve Harrington.
Now back in Hawkins with the town spilt open, Vecnas whereabouts unknown, Max in the hospital and Eddie dead, the group was in shambles. Lucas had practically begged Steve to drive the group back to Maxs trailer to get her things while he watched over her, not that Steve was going to say no anyway.
Now back at the trailer as the group bags Maxs most important belongings for when she awakens, Steve finds himself drawn to the living room where the camera lays in the sunlight, Polaroid sticking out of the top. Steve slowly begins making his way over before lowering himself on the couch, where he delicately takes the picture in his shaky hands. Steve barely gets a glimpse of their sleeping bodies before his vision is clouded by tears that he fights back. That is until Robins hand is placed softy on his back, comforting circles willing the tears to spill as he holds the photo close to his aching chest.