✨✨✨

Eddie is of course a big fan, has followed for A While and sends way too many asks (all his besties think he has A Problem), is indulging in his guilty pleasure because this guy gives such jock vibes, especially given Eddie initially found him hunting for pictures of guys in jock straps (for personal reasons), only to find this faceless beauty had everything from jocks, oddly flattering boxers, to lingerie on his blog (he also has a photos of him in just skimpy undies and sports jerseys, because people actually pay for him to look sexy in their team colours. Wild. Eddie almost begs him to add some metal tees to his wishlist so he can buy them for him to take pics in, almost).

Steve doesn't know his anon is Eddie specifically, if they've met in the past it was fleeting and in passing, if they went to the same school, Eddie graduated first try and missed the rise (and fall) of King Steve (but probably had a fantasy or two about the slightly younger swimmer, he has eyes).

Steve does know his regulars though, Eddie is the only anon who calls him Sweetheart, who he calls Sweetheart back after a while, there's this weird sense to the phrase that has other anons avoiding it, finding their own petnames if they're regular enough to warrant them.

Eventually Eddie grows bold, makes a side/separate blog with a close up photo of his electric guitar, has Sweetheart in the name, starts asking without switching anon on, is fucking stunned when Steve follows him back, it's confusing because genuinely the only things he's posted are some photos of his guitars in similar leans and lighting to the sort of thing Steve might put out (he'd thought it was funny when he was doing it but honestly the pictures turned out really well).

He had been considering trying to DM Steve, he already knows the guy has Mutuals Only enabled, he's seen people beg for him to DM them, but he has chickened out every time, copying his flirting over to an ask instead and editing it to work better. So he's Shocked when he logs on to find a DM waiting for him, it's nothing crazy, just a simple little 'Hi Sweetheart' that makes his heart hammer in his ears and his stomach flip.

He thinks maybe Steve is seeking out someone to talk dirty to in depth, they've flirted around it in asks but Eddie's never suggested anything beyond almost-foreplay, he's always been obssessed with describing how he'd kiss every mole, how he'd dig his fingers into the swell of Steve's ass, never gone further than saying he wants to pull Steve's underwear down with his teeth.

The first night they flirt, sweet nothings that don't really go anywhere until Eddie admits he has work in the morning, so Steve asks what he does, when he has to get up. Eddie is a tattoo artist, which Piques Steve's Interest, and whilst he doesn't start til 9 he has some errands to run and is up way too early (7:30, gross)

"I have SO many questions but I'll let you sleep! Goodnight Sweetheart x"

Eddie is smiling stupidly to himself as he types Goodnight Sweetheart right back, tossing his phone aside and burying his face giddily in his pillows like he's a teenager again. And he thinks maybe that's all it is, that it'll turn into fucking around again as soon as they're both free.

But Steve surprises him again, because when Eddie is dragging himself around his apartment getting ready the next day, his phone chimes and the app says his blog has a DM, he opens it and smiles,

"Hope this doesn't wake you, good morning sweetheart!" sits waiting for him, soon followed by a photo completely different to anything he's ever seen on this guy's blog.

The photo has been taken at the top of a cliff, overlooking a lake, the sun is rising over a forest, and Steve's bare legs are centered beneath the gorgeous view, the hems of some incredibly short shorts visible above hairy thighs, a slip of sneaker visible in the gap. He realises, seeing the sunrise, he never actually asked what timezone this guy is in, if they're in the same one, this photo was taken over an hour ago, Jesus Christ.

Amusingly, there's also the very concerned face of a light brown tabby cat, its got its paws on Steve's thigh as it peers at the camera and has a black harness on.

"Who's your friend? x" there's never been any sign of a cat on Steve's blog, and Eddie's never actually met someone who takes their cats outdoors on little leads, it's cute.

"That's Ozzy, my little guy! my handsome man!"

"I'm jealous! I thought I was your handsome man :c but also Ozzy???? Like Sabbath?" The prospect of Steve listening to good music is immediately crushed by the typed back ??? "The band? Black Sabbath? Singer is Ozzy Osbourne, literal legend."

"He was named by the shelter I adopted him from, but the band name sounds familiar I guess? I'll give them a listen x"

He decides he can make time for a list of recommendations before he goes to pick a few things up for his uncle, then work. Steve likes some, hates others, but that's fine, Eddie can just condition him into enjoying good music, it's not a deal breaker (as if there is even a deal being made).

Steve asks about his work, more about his favourite music, if he's in a band (he was, once, they meet up a few times a year to hang out and see if they can remember the songs), how his days are, he starts pulling out little details that Some Guy Who Wants To Fuck In DMs probably wouldn't. He sends a ton of cat photos, shows Eddie what he's making for dinner, what his disgusting coffee order of the day is (Steve's words, Eddie makes a note to try some for himself because it's sweeter than carnival air and that's his vibe), kind of cute little things like that.

Steve doesn't talk about his own work, just says he's on his way there or back, it's not hard for Eddie to extrapolate education from that, the times are too obvious, and the reason for keeping quiet are Blatant given his blog.

It takes a week for two things to happen, first, Eddie finally introduces himself and gets "oh! shit right yeah! I'm Steve!", and second, Eddie has seen many photos of Steve (never his face, never anything that can identify him as A Specific Steve) but has never sent one back. He's sent pictures of records, random cats he's spotted on his walk to work, tattoo designs he's working on for his flash sheets, but never one of him, the closest he got was his hand buried in the fur of an absolute Behemoth of a cat he found outside his uncle's trailer, and his warped reflection in a railing when he found the tiniest Ozzfest t-shirt (it was for a baby, Steve said it'd probably fit Ozzy, Eddie regrets not buying it despite having no way to send it to Steve).

He's not selfconscious exactly, but Steve's a catch, a god amongst men, he's in shape and hairy and just the right side of tanned (with those sweet tan lines made by the shorts only Eddie's seen, at least of Steve's followers), he's-

"Just a guy, sweetheart, I'm just a guy."

"PSHHHHHH!!!" just a guy, disgusting lies.

"But I don't really care how you look, you don't even have to be a guy."

"Your blog says gay, masc only?" He doesn't know why he's questioning it, Eddie is very much a guy,

"Just wanted to know how it felt to be looked at by men ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

Fair enough. Eddie respects it, finds it interesting when Steve eventually explains how it just makes him nervous, living in a kind of rural, podunk area and "branching out from the comphet lifestyle" ("Am I even using that right? Straight passing I guess.")

Things are good, they keep talking, keep swapping photos of their day-to-day life, Eddie keeps apologising for never sending a "hot bod shot back" when Steve sends him "Exclusives", Steve keeps brushing it off because it doesn't matter, besides he's seen Eddie's arms now (Eddie has shown off his tattoo sleeves, he just got the shading finished on one arm) so he can extrapolate body type at the least ("Unless you're a very peculiar shape but I suppose that just makes you special.") not that it matters to Steve.

Eddie is falling ass over tit in love with a guy on the internet and he's pretty sure not even he, Eddie Munson, King of Fuck ups, can fuck this up.

~

"I'm thinking about deleting this blog."

It comes out of left field and Eddie feels his stomach drop, they've been talking for a few months and Eddie felt something, the thought of losing this guy, his sweetheart, was devastating.

"Oh, I mean... if you want?" he wants to respect it, to sound okay with it, he's glad Steve can't hear him. He has a million questions, what about me? Did I do something wrong? How did I fuck this up? What he types is "Mind if I ask why?"

"I've met this guy"

Oh Jesus no.

"I really like him, and I think I've felt it, you know? The Spark?" Eddie is dying inside. "We've been talking for a while now. He's really sweet, funny, I love hearing about his day, and that he thinks of me when he hears certain songs, or sees little tchotchkes I might like, he asks me how my cat is, he's a real sweetheart. I just need to get the courage to find out if he likes me too, and not ruining things if he doesn't."

"If he doesn't he's an idiot. but he sounds fine, happy for you man." his eyes don't sting and he's not petty enough to consider blocking and hiding, he's not.

"I don't think he's an idiot, little slow on the uptake maybe."

"Okay?"

"Maybe subtlety wasn't it, maybe Robs was right and I should've written my number on my tits and sent him a photo."

"Okay."

What the fuck is his problem? Eddie slouches in his chair, he's at work waiting for his next client to show up and he's starting to fume. Jeff's client is looking nervously between her tattoo, Jeff, and the angry puddle Eddie is becoming as his gangly form practically drips over the edges of the seat.

"I'm blocking him." He doesn't, he folds his arms across his chest and seethes like a 6 year old,

"Who?" Jeff visibly regrets asking when Eddie kicks and flops around in his chair, throwing a micro tantrum.

"Steve. Comin' in my damned DMs telling me he's met someone, fucking asshole." If he throws his voice around like he's mocking someone stupid, well, who cares? It's just him, Jeff, and a lady who is now trying really hard not to laugh.

"I mean... he is just some guy on the internet, Ed..." Jeff offers helpfully,

"Just some guy," Eddie huffs, "Just some guy? I opened my heart dude, I cracked open my fragile ribs and bore everything to him," he very much did not, but he wanted to, "I tucked him deep inside with the hopes he might stay there forever," he did do that, "I-"

"Never told him any of this, by the way." Jeff informs his client, who bites her lip and nods before returning her attention to the buzzing needle near her arm, hoping to focus on it and not Eddie's hilarious expression of misery.

"So?! We had chemistry! We had vibes! We had something! We had-" he gestures with his phone, pausing as he looks at the screen for the first time since his declaration. "really nice tits..."

"What?" Jeff stops tattooing again, frowning over at Eddie, who is gawking uselessly at his phone.

"He sent me his tits," he pulls the phone close, squints at the blocky, shaky numbers printed around the edges of the goddamn rug of hair covering Steve's chest. He flicks his finger across the screen, slack jawed and stupid as he sees Steve's face in full for the first time, a whisper escaping him unbidden,

"I'm the idiot."

~

PS I looked at a random shelter to find a cat for Steve because I thought it'd be fun and saw Ozzie and was like omg he (with a spelling tweak), they seem to be active on FB but IDK how up to date their website is... so I hope Ozzie finds/found a home he's so cute

They argued sometimes. A lot of times. It was harder for Wayne as Eddie got into his teens and started to look and act more and more like his father’s son.

The bad attitude, the disregard for the law, the disrespect of the trailer’s basic house rules like clean the mud off your damn shoes before you come in onto the carpet. All of it made Wayne feel like well, there goes another Munson boy, destined for nothing but a jail cell.

Their biggest argument came two days after Wayne came home early from work and found Eddie and another boy on the couch.

Wayne didn’t get it, you see. He was old school. Live and let live and all that, but this was something he couldn’t understand.

‘Keep that shit out of my house!’ he yelled.

The door was already slammed shut as Eddie ran from yet another fight, leaving Wayne alone with nothing but an elevated heartbeat and the sound of his nephew’s van wheel spinning out of the trailer park.

Eddie came back the next day to shove some of his belongings into a duffle bag.

‘You’ll have your house back soon enough, old man’ Eddie muttered when Wayne poked his head into the room.

Wayne retreated to his recliner and didn’t look away from the tv when Eddie stormed out once more.

There was a rerun of the Twilight Zone on. ‘Dead Run’ was the episode name.

The character was in hell to deliver souls. Wayne watched with a clenched jaw as one was sent there for being gay.

He turned the station to the news and watched a report on some guy called Fauci who reckoned a million Americans had a virus that would kill them. Activists begged for treatment.

The report rolled on and Wayne rubbed a hand over his face. He’d talk to Eddie when he came back. Sit down and try to understand it all. Eddie had no where else to go, and that guitar of his was still on the wall. He’d never leave for good without it. Wayne knew he’d be back.

It was another day before Chrissy Cunningham died and Eddie was on the run.

People said all sorts of things but Wayne knew not one of them was true. Eddie damn near fainted at the sight of a cat with a broken leg wandering nearby, he’d never have the stomach to kill her.

And as for the people saying he assaulted her? Wayne bit his tongue and told anyone who’d listen to keep their mouths shut. They didn’t know his boy like he did. They were wrong about him. As soon as Eddie was found, it’d all be smoothed out and the truth would come to the front.

The ‘earthquake’ hit soon after, and Wayne was left with nothing of his nephew but a guitar pick on a necklace. Wayne had been the one to show Eddie how to put a hole in it to string the chain through. Eddie was only 12 at the time, barely big enough to hold on of Wayne’s old guitars.

A knock at the door a few weeks later shook Wayne out of a stupor. Soaked in whiskey and pickled in cigarette smoke, he struggled to focus on Jim Hopper, standing tall at the door of the government issued highway-side motel room.

‘Thought you were dead’ Wayne said.

‘Yeah me too, come on’

Hopper helped Wayne into some shoes and out to a car. A few cups of the blackest coffee they could find later and Wayne was sober enough to understand what was being said to him.

‘He’s dead, Jim. I don’t know what kind of game this is but-‘

‘So was I, remember?’

Wayne was brought out to the lab on the edge of town and made to swear up and down that he’d never breath a word of what he saw in there to anyone.

‘Nice of y’all to think I got friends’ Wayne said gruffly, earning a smirk from Hopper.

A doctor named Owens led them down a hall.

Locked door after locked door finally opened up into a dim hospital room.

‘Eddie?’

Wayne couldn’t move. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t-

‘Jesus christ. Is- Is it you?’

Wayne blinked hard and fast expecting to wake up any moment.

And then…

‘It’s me’

Wayne walked forward on shaky legs.

Eddie was talking to him. Promising he never killed anyone and apologising for not coming back after their fight. He even apologised for what Wayne saw that day.

Wayne just stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

‘Wayne?’ Eddie asked with a crack in his voice. ‘Say something, please’

‘You’re alive’ was all Wayne could say before he flung himself forward and gathered his nephew up in a tight hug.

He cried into the side of Eddie’s head, petting his hair and thanking god for bringing him back to him.

Wayne pulled back to look at Eddie’s own tear stained face.

‘I never believed what they said about you, I never did, you’re a good kid, I told ‘em all, I said my boy would never do all that’

‘I’m sorry Wayne, I swear’

‘You ain’t got nothing to apologise for, you hear me? Not a damn thing’

They embraced again for a long time. Eddie knew what Wayne was saying and he was grateful that his uncle was here with him.

It was another couple of months before Eddie was able to leave the hospital. Wayne had been given a new trailer by the government as a way to buy his silence on everything

Wayne would never have blabbed anyway, but a second bedroom was nothing to turn your nose up at.

While everyone fussed around getting Eddie ready to be discharged, Wayne watched the strange little group that gathered around his nephew closely. They all seemed nice, very close knit. Some more-so.

The Harrington boy, Harrington man now, god he was a lot taller than his daddy ever was wasn’t he, was always within touching distance of Eddie. He was always there when Wayne was brought in to visit, never so far away that he couldn’t reach out to steady him if he wobbled on his feet.

It was obvious, really.

They were hiding it from everyone else, that much was obvious too, except for that red headed girl. They tried to never look at each other too long but whenever it was just Wayne with them they seemed to forget he had eyes too.

He’d stare at the paper long after finishing a crossword to give them some extra time to hold hands over top of Eddie’s bedsheets when they thought he wasn’t paying attention, and acted dumb when Steve didn’t hesitate on helping Eddie get dressed on his last day before leaving the lab’s medical wing

Steve drove behind them on the way back to Forest Hills. There was some equipment Eddie needed to help the last stages of his recovery and he’d jumped at the excuse to volunteer to go back to the trailer with them.

Wayne eyed him in the rearview mirror while they idled at a red light.

‘So, it’s Harrington?’

Wayne could see the way Eddie’s posture stiffened in the corner of his eye.

‘He’s leaving as soon as he drops my stuff off’ Eddie said quickly and quietly. ‘And he won’t ever be around. I’ll stay with him a couple of times a week and-‘

‘He’s welcome in our home whenever you want him there’ Wayne said smoothly, taking off again when the light turned green.

‘What?’

‘Whenever you want, you hear?’

‘But you said-‘

‘I’m a jackass’ Wayne said sharply. ‘Shouldn’t have taken you damn near dying for me to not give a damn about anything’

Eddie didn’t speak. Wayne heard him sniffle lightly.

‘You called me your boy’ Eddie whispered. ‘When you first saw me’

‘You are my boy. You are my boy and nothings gonna change it. I’ve spent months fighting anyone who says anything sour about you and I’ll spend the rest of my life doing it too’

‘And I’ll spend as long as I need to making sure you and your boy back there don’t get no hassle from any small town or big city bastard who wants to say anything against you, you hear?’

Eddie sniffled again. ‘I hear’

The trailer park was gripped by winter when Eddie approached Wayne shyly one night. He and Steve had kept low key until now, trying to not be around too long whenever Wayne was home and leaving no trace behind of Steve’s visits.

‘Spit it out’ Wayne said as Eddie shuffled around uncomfortably.

‘Steve’s dad, he, um…’

‘He what?’

‘He kicked Steve out. He caught us and um…’

Wayne felt rage boil through him. ‘He hurt you?’ Eddie shook his head. ‘He hurt Steve?’ Eddie looked at his feet.

‘Where is he? Come on’

Wayne grabbed his keys and dragged Eddie out to the truck.

Wayne knew where the Harringtons lived, everyone did, and got to their driveway in record time.

‘They’re home’ Eddie muttered, seeing Steve’s dads car.

Wayne opened his door and pulled a shotgun out from under his seat.

‘Wayne, jesus’ Eddie said with wide eyes.

‘You go get him and his stuff, I’ll keep his folks talking’

Wayne didn’t knock on the door, pushing it open and announcing that they wouldn’t be long, they were just collecting something belonging to them before leaving quietly.

Eddie scrambled upstairs towards Steve’s room.

Sylvia and Richard screamed about breaking the law and how they would call the cops on him for having a weapon in their home

Wayne cocked the gun. ‘Go ‘head, ain’t registered, cops’ll never find it’

Wayne didn’t mention Jim Hopper himself helping to file the inside of the barrel the week before.

They’d become good buddies, drinking and smoking and laughing about ‘to hell with the army what do they know anyway’ at least once a week.

Wayne liked the company of it all and he particularly enjoyed having his old misdemeanours mysteriously scrubbed from the Hawkins PD’s filing cabinets.

Eddie came back down the stairs clutching a bag of Steve’s belongings under one arm and Steve himself under the other. Steve had a black eye and a pale complexion. Wayne felt that rage build up again. He swung his gun up over his shoulder and nodded towards the door. Eddie and Steve went quickly.

‘Don’t y’all come lookin’ for him, now’ Wayne warned before following them out to the truck.

Steve took four or five days to stop moving like a twitching cat. Every noise outside had him jumping to the window to make sure neither of his parents had tried to come get him.

‘Calm down’ Wayne told him one night when Eddie had gone to the store to pick up dinner and some beers.

‘Sorry’ Steve said. ‘I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I save the money for my own place’

Wayne sighed. ‘You and Ed, same as each other, never feeling welcome here. You even unpacked yet?’

Steve shook his head lightly.

Wayne sighed again. ‘This is just as much your place as Eddie’s, and its his just as much as it’s mine, for as long as you want’

‘Thats… Thank you, Mr Munson’

‘Told you to call me Wayne. Go take your stuff out of that damn backpack in there’

Steve smiled and ambled back to the room he and Eddie had been sharing to do just that.

Eddie arrived home soon after, and when Steve came to greet him there was a small baseball figurine in his hand. Wayne saw his chance.

‘Got some room right there, if you want’

He gestured to a spot on top of the tv, between a mug filled with fishing lures and a carriage clock.

Steve smiled again and held the figurine tightly in two hands as he gingerly made his way towards the tv, placing it as gently as he could in the place Wayne had pointed out.

‘Fits great’ Steve muttered.

‘Course it does, now lets eat’ Wayne said, moving on quickly before anyone could dwell on the moment too long.

Later that night, Steve snoozed on the couch while Eddie floated around the trailer in the background of whatever gameshow Wayne was half paying attention to.

What had his full attention, was all the small trinkets that were appearing in each of the nooks and crannies around the place.

After one was put down and adjusted just so, Eddie would look quickly over his shoulder to check if Wayne was reacting to it.

When it was ignored, Eddie would rush back to his room before reappearing with something else, and doing it all over again.

It took maybe two to three hours before Eddie had fully decorated the trailer with various things that Wayne couldn’t name but knew had the hallmark of his nephew’s taste.

Eddie sat gently next to Steve, who was still snoring lightly, and was clearly trying his best to ‘look natural’. He was sitting straight up, tapping his fingers on his knees, eyes darting between the things he’d put up.

Steve shuffled in his sleep and curled towards Eddie.

Wayne looked over to the boys, his boys, and wondered how he could ever have thought it was wrong.

He was a fool, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

From the way Steve had cared for Eddie in the hospital to the way Eddie was watching Steve now to make sure he wasn’t having a nightmare, Wayne knew there was nothing more pure and more right than the love they shared.

‘Looks great Ed’ Wayne said, watching the tv instead of Eddie. ‘Feels more like home’

Eddie relaxed into his seat. ‘Yeah, its home’

Wayne smiled into the top of his beer can, allowing himself a long breath of relief.

Finally.

“I thought it was Eddie’s,” Robin admitted. “He was cleaning up from DND and I thought it was one of his little dungeon story things. He took it from me! He didn’t say anything!” 

“Oh my god, Robin!” Steve groaned, running his clean hand over his face. “You didn’t!”

“You can ask for it back,” Robin suggested. “It’s not like he wouldn’t give it back.”

“Oh my god,” Steve repeated. “Oh my god!”

“What?” Robin asked. “What’s so bad about your little notebook full of secrets? Your grocery list? Your to do list? Family’s secret recipes —“

“It’s about Eddie,” Steve snapped. “All of it. It’s just — all about Eddie.” 

He sighed, sitting down on the couch. He brought his head to his knees. 

He exhaled slowly. 

“I had that notebook since senior year. Every thought I had about Eddie is in that book.” 

Robin sat down next to Steve. She extended an open palm towards Steve. Steve took it, intertwining their fingers. “Every thought?”

Steve nodded. “So I guess he’ll know now. Either he lets me down easy or I out freak the freak.”

“Come on,” Robin groaned. “You can’t tell me that Eddie wouldn’t be into you.”

Steve shot Robin a glare. “Not the time.” 

Robin raised her free hand up. “Look, we can just go to his house and get it. Maybe he hasn’t even opened it! Didn’t realize it wasn’t one of his notebooks and he ignored it. We just ask for it back, and everything will be okay. Okay?” 

Steve looked at Robin cautiously. “You don’t think he’s opened it?”

Robin blew raspberries. “Not a chance! Let’s go!”

Eddie had the notebook. 

The Notebook. 

The one Steve Harrington kept locked away at any given point. 

Eddie has seen it in action. When Steve doesn’t think anyone’s watching. When he’s alone at Family Video, jotting something down between customers.

Or when he’s sitting in the back of the Wheeler’s basement, writing instead of paying attention to the movie. Or when they are in the middle of Dungeons and Dragons, he’ll be in the kitchen, writing furiously. 

Eddie joked to himself that Steve was writing Spirk fanfiction.

That he was obsessed with Spock fucking Captain Kirk out of his mind. A dark part of Eddie wondered if Steve was writing his last will and testament, a martyr ready to go at any moment. 

What he didn’t expect to find was — well, himself.

He didn’t realize he had Steve’s notebook. It was piled onto his crate of dungeon master stuff. He didn’t know he had ownership of such a valuable item until he was organizing the crate this morning, getting his notes together for the next session. 

He stared at the notebook in hand, trying to remember what notes he written inside. 

When he opened it, he realized it wasn’t his at all. 

It was Steve’s notebook. 

He knew that handwriting. He needed to shut it — except he saw his name.

10.23.84

Eddie Munson would make a pretty girl. He’s got big dark eyes like Bambi. Wild hair, big and Curly. 

I can’t tell if it’s natural or permed. But it’s nice. 

He’s nice. 

He’s got a nice voice. Deep. Smooth. Ms. Click made him read out loud today. It’s the only time I’ve paid attention in this dumb class. Hes like a storyteller. I didn’t want him to stop. 

I wish he was in all my classes.

11.5.84

Finally spoke to Eddie one on one. Sold me some weed. Said he was sorry that Billy got the one up on me. 

Said something about Billy listens to Mott Lee Crew and it’s terrible music.

Gave me a discount on my weed.

He’s still nice.

11.7.84

I dreamed about him. He kissed me. He was still a boy. I [eraser marks tore up the paper]

3.2.85

He’s barely in school anymore. 

I think they told him he wasn’t graduating. 

Someone said he went to California to get a record deal. I’ll never see him again.

3.15.85

He’s back. He’s sad. Didn’t work out.

I hate to admit it, but I’m glad. 

6.28.85 

I saw him in the mall. 

I hid in the damn freezers for my 10 minute break. 

Robin hates my guts. Said I was gonna get freezer burn. Said it might help with the ladies. 

I dont think I want them anymore.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The girls are hot. Obviously.

But then there’s him. 

He’s got long hair like a girl, but no boobs. He’s got scruff he forgot to shave and I want to touch it. 

He’s not a girl. He’s never been a girl to me. 

But the feeling is the same. Like if he was a girl.

What’s wrong with me?

7.5.85

I’m not alone. 

I’m not broken. 

If [scribbled out] is like this, then it’s okay. It’s not wrong. It’s okay.

I’m okay.

I just — [scribbled out]

I’m okay.

7.8.85

He gave me my weed for free this time. Didn’t say anything more. He apologized like it was his fault. I couldn’t form a straight thought. I just shrugged. Like a dumbass. He threw in another joint. 

He’s so nice.

8.15.85

I convinced Robin to go to the hideout. 

Eddie’s a fucking rockstar.

It’s like he was meant to be up there. Center stage, rocking like he’s some big celebrity. His grin is wild and it feels like it’s aimed directly at me.

I wish it was true.

10.1.85

Bisexual.

It’s called bisexual.

11.15.85

Of course the kids find him. 

They said they had a new doofuses and dorkuses group. Never said it was Eddie. 

He’s so good with the kids. He’s taken them under his wing and protecting them from Jason’s douche bags.

God. 

Is it weird that it makes him hotter?

2.13.86 

He swung by family video today. Grabbed a few movies and a jiffy pop. Said he’s got big plans. A couple of horror movies. 

Didn’t say with someone. 

Didn’t say alone. 

Just that he’s got plans. On Valentine’s Day. 

It hurts. I don’t want to think about it.

3.29.86

He’s alive. 

He’s ALIVE. 

He woke up yesterday. Briefly. Looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled. Mumbled something about a guardian angel and fell back asleep. 

He’s more awake today. Up about 20 minutes at a time. Remembering more.

He calls me sweetheart and Stevie. 

I don’t want him to remember me. I’m not king Steve. I want to be Stevie. Want to be good. 

Want Eddie to see the real me now. Not to think about how I was. 

5.4.86

He’s so beautiful. 

7.6.86

He let me stay with him over the Fourth of July. 

He said he remembered how I looked on his porch last year. He made the connection to the upside down a few weeks ago. Didn’t want me to be alone. 

I slept in his bed. I slept next to him. His whole room smells like him and I never want to leave.

7.26.86

I did a dumb thing. I bought tickets for Metallica for Eddie. I went with him. Drove him down to Evansville. The singe broke his arm, so it was just Ozzy. 

But Eddie was so excited. He looked so natural there. Surrounded by music he loves and people like him.

No one knew him. He was just another guy in the crowd. I couldn’t tell you what songs Ozzy did. But I bet Eddie could. 

He looked so good there. So [eraser marks]

Happy looks good on him.

9.3.86 

Eddie never ceases to amaze me when he DMs. He’s like a cartoon, wild and fun and care free.

His smile is so genuine, it made everything worth it. Sometimes, he glances at me and I feel butterflies in my gut. For a split second, his attention is on ME and nothing else in the world matters. It feels like he loves me too —

Eddie slammed the book shut.

Loves. 

Not likes. 

Loves.

He did. 

He loves Steve. Has for a while now. 

He had a crush on him since his stupid coiffed hair and his dumb polos were hanging off of Nancy at any given moment. 

Eddie didn’t think he had a chance. He didn’t think Steve liked him that way. That Steve could like him that way.

And now he knows. 

Steve loves him. 

Eddie read his notebook and he knows Steve’s secret. 

Steve’s going to be so pissed. 

How was Eddie going to tell Steve that he loved him back, that he felt the same way, without admitting to violating his privacy?

The screen door creaked open. 

“Eddie?” Robin called. “You awake? And decent?” 

Eddie sighed in relief. It was just Robin —

“Eds —“

Steve poked his head into Eddie’s room, his eyes wide as he locked onto the notebook in Eddie’s hands. 

Shit.

Steve stared at the notebook. 

His notebook.

Open.

In Eddie’s hands.

And he’s pretty sure he’s on the last entry. 

The one from yesterday, while they were playing dungeons and dragons. The one where he admits he’s finally in love with Eddie.

How does he explain it? Blow it off? Pretend that Eddie’s not holding his heart in his hands.

“Eddie, I’m —“

“I’m gay!” Eddie shouted, startling Steve in the doorway and Robin in the living room. A silent beat passed before Eddie continued, his words spilling out a mile a minute. “I’m gay and I’m so in love with you and I’m so sorry for reading this, I thought it was mine and clearly it’s not, but I saw my name and — that’s no excuse because I should’ve stopped and I violated your privacy and everything but if I didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and I couldn’t tell you that me — me too.” 

He took a hasty breath, pointing to his chest. 

“Me. Gay. Love. You.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, processing. His heart is beating through his chest. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. The terrible possibilities that he’s making this up. That Eddie didn’t say those words. Or Eddie’s only saying it to make him feel better. 

But what if he’s honest?

What if this works out? 

“Not a joke?” Steve asked, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. He felt like a deer, ready to take off at the next loud noise.

“Not a joke,” Eddie said, slowly standing up, like he knows Steve’s nervous. Dropped the notebook on the bed.

Steve’s eyes quickly darted to it, thinking if he’s fast, he could grab it and make a run for it. He held his hands in front of his chest, palms exposed to Steve. He slowly approached him until he was close enough to brush his hand against Steve’s arm. Eddie’s fingertips ran down Steve’s arm, stopping at his hand. 

“I promise you, Steve,” Eddie whispered. “I love you, too. I just — didn’t think you were like me. That this would be possible. So I thought I’d be content being you friend.” He slipped his hand into Steve’s. “That if the only way I could have you was as my friend, then I’d shove my feelings down and pretend that I didn’t have this big crush on you.” 

“And —“ Steve swallowed nervously. “And you’re not just saying this? To make me feel better?” 

Eddie pulled away. Steve felt his heart stop.

Then Eddie practically dove onto his bed, shoving his arm between the mattress and the wall. His tongue stuck out in concentration as he reached. Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

Then — Eddie pulled out a yellow spiral notebook. 

In big, black permanent marker, the cover read: EDDIES! DO NOT TOUCH

Steve kind of swore under his breath, realizing he should’ve put his name on the cover. But the “do not touch” may have incentivize the teens to open it. 

Eddie sat on his bed, opening the notebook. He looked up at Steve and patted the spot next to him.

Steve hesitated. He swayed in the doorway before Robin gently pushed him forward. He closed the small gap and crawled on the bed. Eddie leaned in close, showing the open notebook to Steve. 

“It’s only fair,” Eddie said quietly. “That you get to read my heart, too.”

Steve studied Eddie for a moment, lost in the beauty of him up close.

He could see the reddish brown of his dark eyes, the small freckles hidden in his pale skin, the way his sheepish smile is pulled tight on one side from the scarring. 

He could see how vulnerable he is in this moment.

Steve looked down at the notebook in his hands.

THE SUN 

The warmth of your smile 

Like rays of a sun 

Leave your mark on my skin

Let me bask, turn it red

Let me stay in your orbit 

floating around you 

Because there’s no where else I’d want to be

HAZY

I’m in a cloud of haze 

When I’m around you 

Your eyes on me 

The whole world focused on me

Like the roar of the ocean

Like the soft grass

Like the rich earth 

Hazy hazy hazy 

I’m in a cloud of haze

THE DREAMER 

he said when we go

He wants the east room 

The sun rises in the east 

And falls to the west 

And all I can think about 

Is we, we, we 

Like a sweet dream 

Haunting me

I think of easy Saturdays in the kitchen 

Dancing around breakfast

The radio on something sickly sweet 

Like Lauper or Loverboy 

Like Mercury singing about love

And he’d see me 

Like I see him 

And he would want me

Like I want him 

And all I can dream about 

Is us, us, us

Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” Eddie breathed. “They’re — uh — songs. Most of them. Not like — not like corroded coffin stuff. They’re meant for the Machine.” Eddie nodded toward the acoustic guitar.

“You wrote songs about me,” Steve repeated. “For me.”

“Technically you were never supposed to hear them,” Eddie said sheepishly. “But I thought it was only fair. Notebook for a notebook.”

“Eddie,” Steve’s eyes drifted to his lips, snapping back up. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed, leaning in. 

Steve kissed Eddie.

Oh my god he’s kissing Eddie! He cupped Eddie’s jaw, feeling the stubble against his palm. He felt Eddie lick against his lips —

“I’m gonna go,” Robin cleared her throat. “Not that I’m not happy for you two. It’s just — I don’t know what you’re gonna do next.”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed, his hand playing at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Maybe — maybe you should.” 

“Ew —“ Robin said turning away. “Eddie that’s my SISTER —“

“Robin —“ Steve interrupted, turning to look at her with a soft smile. “Thank you. For giving Eddie my notebook.”

Robin smiled back. “You’re welcome. Eddie — don’t deflower my SISTER. He’s a RESPECTED member of Hawkins!” 

“No promises,” Eddie smirked. “Now that he’s mine, I’m never letting go.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathed. He felt like he was full of butterflies, ready to take off. “You’re mine, too.”

9.4.86

I kissed him. 

And he kissed me. 

And I’m gonna be okay.