The summer after the events beneath Hawkins was supposed to be about healing. At least, that was what everyone kept saying. But healing wasn’t exactly easy when half the town was still covered in destruction, when people were still whispering about earthquakes and missing people, and when the few who knew the truth were carrying memories that no one else could understand.

Steve Harrington had always been good at taking care of people. It was practically his thing. He was the guy who showed up, the guy who drove everyone around, the guy who put himself between danger and the people he cared about without thinking twice.

The problem was… nobody ever asked who took care of Steve.

So when his car decided to break down on some forgotten Indiana road, miles away from Hawkins, Steve found himself stuck with nothing but a dead engine and his own thoughts.

Until Eddie Munson showed up. Of all people.

Eddie, who Steve had spent years seeing as the town freak. Eddie, who had a talent for getting under his skin with a single grin and some ridiculous nickname. Eddie, who had also crawled through hell with them and proven himself in a way Steve never could have expected. Neither of them had planned on becoming friends. But surviving something like that changed things.

A simple offer to help turned into an unavoidable road trip. Finding a mechanic turned into driving through unfamiliar towns, arguing over music, and discovering that maybe they weren’t as different as they thought. Steve learned Eddie wasn’t just the loud metalhead with a dramatic flair for everything. He was someone who had spent his entire life feeling like he didn’t belong anywhere.

Eddie learned Steve Harrington wasn’t just a pretty face and a reputation from high school. He was someone who carried everyone else’s burdens because he didn’t know how to put them down.

Somewhere between the late-night conversations, shared silence, and miles of empty highway, the line between enemies and friends started to blur. And now, after days on the road, they found themselves sitting in a small roadside diner somewhere outside Hawkins. The kind of place with cracked vinyl booths, flickering lights, and coffee that probably tasted better than it had any right to.

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The diner booth creaked under Steve’s weight as he slid in across from Eddie. The smell of greasy fries and coffee filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet tension hanging between them. Eddie had already ordered a black coffee and some toast, stirring his drink with an absentminded focus. He didn’t look up right away when Steve sat down, just kept turning that spoon like it was suddenly fascinating.

For once, Eddie Munson wasn’t filling the silence. And somehow, that was more unsettling than all the jokes.

Steve leaned back against the booth, glancing around the nearly empty diner before looking back at him. "You know, for a guy who talks like he’s got a radio permanently stuck in his head, you're being suspiciously quiet." He reached for the menu, pretending to look through it even though he already knew what he wanted.

"Starting to think the apocalypse actually did something to you."

“Dude, I’ve been running on fumes for three days.”He leaned back into the cracked vinyl booth and dragged a hand through those wild curls of brown hair that always looked like they defied gravity. “I mean… we’ve been driving since Tuesday morning,” he said slowly, “through cornfields so flat they make your brain hurt.” A pause. Then quieter: “And now we’re just… here.” Another sip of coffee before adding:

“What even is ‘here,’ man?”

Steve snorted, setting the menu down without even really looking at it. He’d never admit it, but he was tired too. His eyes were starting to feel gritty, coffee just barely enough to keep him going. “Middle of nowhere, Indiana?” he said dryly. He glanced out the window, eyeing the flat fields, the endless stretch of grass and dirt off the road. The landscape hadn’t changed in miles.

“Yeah, middle of nowhere,” Eddie echoed, voice lower now. “Population: three cows and a gas station that sells beer at like… ten bucks.” He finally looked up from his coffee cup, those intense brown eyes locking onto Steve’s face for the first time since they’d sat down. And damn. Steve still had that stupidly perfect jawline. Those stupidly blue eyes framed by messy blonde hair he clearly spent way too much money on. Even exhausted-looking? Still annoyingly handsome. Eddie blinked fast and took another sip to hide how suddenly aware he was of him being right there.

Steve felt the weight of Eddie’s stare like a physical thing. He didn’t say anything right away. Just held it, that quiet intensity between them suddenly heavier than the miles they’d driven. Then, because Steve was never good with silence and definitely not with that kind of look from Eddie Munson, he smirked.“What? Do I have coffee on my face or something?”His voice came out lighter than he felt. Teasing. Safe ground. He reached up absently to rub his thumb under his nose anyway, just in case.

“Nah,” Eddie said, shaking his head slowly. “No coffee.” His voice came out a little rougher than he meant it to. He shifted in the booth, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were sitting and how quiet the diner had gotten. The waitress was wiping down tables by the counter; some old guy with a newspaper sat two booths over. No one paying attention to them at all. Good. That was good. Eddie cleared his throat and tried for casual:

“You just look… tired.”

Steve exhaled a short laugh, leaning back again and rubbing the side of his neck. "Yeah, well," he said. "Driving through Indiana flatland on two hours of sleep isn't exactly a vacation." He finally reached for Eddie's coffee cup without asking and took a sip straight from it. Not because he wanted his coffee more than Steve’s own would be (which was already coming), but because it gave him an excuse to look away for half a second. To reset. The warmth hit his lips first. Then the bitter taste that told him this wasn’t some weak diner swill - this was actually decent brew.

“Hey!” Eddie said, not actually mad, just startled. He watched Steve drink from his cup like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they’d done this a hundred times before. And honestly? After days on the road together, sharing fries at gas stations and passing around one flask of whiskey at a rest stop… maybe it kind of was normal now.

Eddie didn’t mind. Not even a little.

But still he fake-glared as Steve set his coffee down again. “Dude. That’s mine.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. "Relax, Munson," he said with a smirk. "I was just testing the quality, making sure it was fit for human consumption." He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to act more casual than he was. "And, for the record," he added, "you're still drinking coffee black. Something's wrong with you."

Eddie scoffed, grabbing his cup back and taking a defiant drink. His tongue brushed the same spot Steve's had just touched. The thought should not have sent a little shiver down his spine. "Sorry I don't need to dump half a bottle of sugar in mine to make it edible," he shot back. "Some of us drink coffee to actually wake up, not for a calorie surplus."

Steve opened his mouth to fire back some snarky reply about calories and sugar addiction, but the waitress chose that exact moment to approach with a pot of coffee. She was middle-aged, cheerful in that tired diner-way, with a name tag that read Linda. “Refill?” she asked Eddie before glancing at Steve expectantly. Eddie held up his mug with a grin. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He slid the cup toward her as Linda poured in the hot black coffee, steam curling into the air. Steve barely had time to answer before she turned to him expectantly with her pot raised. The waitress gave Steve one of those polite-but-not-really-interested smiles that diner staff mastered after years on shift. “And for you?”

Steve gave her his most charming smile, the one that usually got him free refills whether the waitress wanted to or not. "I'll take a coffee, too," he said. "But cream and sugar. Lots of sugar." He added the last part just to hear Eddie scoff.

Linda poured Steve’s coffee with the careful precision of someone who’d done this a thousand times. The creamer clinked as she dropped it in, followed by three sugar packets worth. She stirred it once with a spoon from her apron pocket before sliding the cup across to him. “There you go, honey,” she said warmly. Then: “You boys need anything else? Eggs? Pancakes?” She gave them both that friendly-but-not-too-friendly diner smile again.

Steve grabbed the coffee and took a quick sip, making exaggerated satisfied noises that were more for show than anything else. Eddie rolled his eyes. "No, we're okay," Steve said quickly before Eddie had a chance to say something that would probably offend Linda. The waitress nodded with another one of those professional smiles and wandered off again. Steve waited until she was out of earshot before turning to Eddie with a smirk. "See? Sugar is the key to life," he teased.

“Oh my God,” Eddie groaned, throwing his hands up slightly. “You’re like a five-year-old with that shit.” He watched Steve sip his disgustingly sweet coffee with that stupid smug face and it made something in Eddie’s chest tighten. Not annoyance. Not really. It was… cute? Wait, no. Nope. That wasn’t the right word for Harrington-level levels of obnoxiousness mixed with charm. Eddie took another swig of his black coffee to hide how flustered he suddenly felt over this ridiculous conversation about sugar content in diner brew at all hours of the damn day.

Eddie leaned forward suddenly, elbows on the table, eyes locked onto Steve’s like he was about to make a very serious point. “You know what your problem is?” he started. “You treat coffee like dessert.” A beat, then, “It’s not supposed to taste like a caramel macchiato from Starbucks. It’s coffee. Bitter. Strong. Like life.” He gestured dramatically with his spoon before pointing it at Steve accusingly. “And you’re ruining the sacredness of it.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. He narrowed his eyes at Eddie like he’d just personally insulted Steve’s entire bloodline. "Okay, first of all," Steve started, "bitter coffee tastes like motor oil. Second of all? Life isn't supposed to taste bitter. That's the whole point." He took another defiant sip from his sugar-bomb coffee before setting it down pointedly on the table. “Oh wow,” Eddie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Steve Harrington’s got a philosophy about coffee now.”

He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest like he was bracing for battle. “Newsflash, Captain Perfect: Life is bitter as hell most of the time. It sucks. People die. Cars break down in the middle of nowhere Indiana.”

A pause.

Then quieter:

“We almost died fighting monsters last summer and you’re out here acting like sugar fixes everything?”

Steve bristled at the nickname, his jaw tightening visibly. He knew Eddie was just messing with him, but there was something about Captain Perfect that hit a nerve, and it didn't take a genius to guess why. Steve had spent most of high school being called that very thing. Like a joke only he didn't get. His hands clenched into fists under the table, but his tone was still even when he responded. His hands clenched into fists under the table, but his tone was still even when he responded.

"Sugar doesn't fix anything, Munson," he said pointedly. "But it makes crap taste better."

Eddie didn’t miss the way Steve’s jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into fists under the table. He wasn't even sure if it was the name that had actually gotten to him or if it was just the general situation of the two of them arguing about stupid-as-hell coffee in a diner at the asscrack of dawn. Still, he took it as a sign to keep going, like poking at a sleeping bear with a stick. Why not, right? They were both exhausted and irritable and probably way too wired to be up this early anyway. "So just admit it," he went on. "You're scared of reality so you pour enough sugar in your coffee to give you a cavity with every sip instead of actually dealing with real life." Another sip of dark, bitter coffee then his mouth split into a mocking grin. "You're afraid of life, Harrington."

Steve's face went completely blank for a second. That was the most dangerous look Eddie had ever seen on him. Not angry, not sarcastic - just... still. Then Steve stood up so fast his chair screeched against the diner floor. Without a word to Eddie or Linda or anyone else in that tiny roadside shithole, he turned and walked straight out of the diner into the parking lot. The door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle it in its frame.

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Steve exhaled sharply through his nose, the cold morning air doing nothing to cool the frustration simmering under his skin. He paced in tight circles between Eddie’s beat-up van and a rusted pickup truck parked beside it. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders tense. Every time he replayed Eddie’s words in his head - "You're afraid of life" - something hot and angry flared up again. How dare he? Eddie didn’t know shit about Steve's life. About any of it.

Eddie didn't follow for a long time.

Part of him was tempted to just sit there and be smug about it. He'd won that round of their stupid coffee-argument-turned-personal-attack, hadn't he? But something made him leave the diner and step outside. Maybe it was the way the door had slammed, how Steve's shoulders had been so tense. Or maybe he was just too damn curious to stay inside. He caught sight of Steve then, pacing between his van and a rusty old truck, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Eddie stayed where he was for a moment, watching him. He'd never say it out loud, but it was a strange feeling, knowing he was directly responsible for the frustrated tension rolling off Steve like a damn wave. Usually they got under each other's skins, sure, but they also laughed and joked and argued about things that didn't really matter. This... this felt real. Eddie finally made his way over, shoving his own hands in his pocket so he mirrored Steve's defensive pose.

"Harrington."

Steve didn’t turn around right away. He just kept pacing, jaw still tight, eyes fixed on the cracked asphalt under his feet. When Eddie finally spoke his name like that - quiet and careful - Steve stopped dead in his tracks. But he didn’t face him yet. Instead, he exhaled sharply through his nose again before slowly turning to look at Eddie over one shoulder. His expression was unreadable. Not angry exactly anymore… but not happy either. Just something.

Eddie shifted his weight, suddenly feeling stupid for following Steve out here. The cold air bit at his skin. The diner lights glowed behind them through the foggy windows, casting long shadows across the parking lot. He swallowed hard before speaking again. "...I shouldn't have said that." It came out quiet. Not defensive or sarcastic like usual - just honest and low-key embarrassed about it too.

“Look,” Eddie started, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “I didn’t mean… you know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper-aware of how cold it was outside and how much crap they’d both been through recently. “I just… I say stupid shit when I’m tired.” A pause. Then: “And maybe because I am scared all the time.” That last part came out quieter than everything else.

Steve finally turned to face Eddie fully, his expression softening just a fraction at the admission. For once, Eddie wasn’t putting up walls or deflecting with jokes. He was just… tired. Honest. And Steve got that more than he’d ever admit out loud. He took one slow step forward before speaking again - not sarcastic this time either. "You're scared?" The question came out softer than intended. Like he genuinely hadn't considered it before now.

Eddie looked down at his boots, scuffing the toe against the pavement. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “Scared as hell.” Another long pause stretched between them before Eddie forced himself to keep talking. “I mean… I almost died last summer. Like, actually died.” He laughed weakly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "How the hell am I not supposed to be scared after that?" He finally looked back up at Steve, those eyes suddenly intense. "How the hell aren't you?"

Steve's breath hitched slightly at that. He hadn't expected Eddie to say it like that. Not with such raw honesty. For a long second, Steve just stared at him - really looked at him - and saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of everything they'd been through. His chest tightened uncomfortably. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Maybe I'm scared too." It was the first time he'd ever said it out loud.

It felt strange.He wasn't used to talking like this. Not with Eddie. They'd spent so long sniping at each other, throwing out quips and sarcasm and insults. This felt like a completely different thing. Steve took a few steps closer so he was standing right in front of Eddie now.

"We both know how messed up things get in this town," he said. "And… yeah. Maybe we have every right to be scared." Steve reached out without thinking and gripped Eddie's shoulder. It was a simple gesture, something he'd done with Dustin or the other kids when they were stressed. But doing it with Eddie felt different somehow. "Look," Steve said, voice low but steady. "We've both been through enough crap to last ten lifetimes." He gave his shoulder a small squeeze before dropping his hand again.

"We're allowed to be scared."

Eddie tensed under Steve’s touch for a second, not expecting the unexpected contact, but then something in him seemed to unwind. He didn't know why. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that Steve Harrington was saying all the stuff he'd been trying desperately not to think about. Either way, he felt himself exhale slowly, shoulders slumping a little. The touch had been short but it felt weirdly... comforting. Like being reminded he wasn't alone.

Eddie blinked, the cold air suddenly not feeling so cold anymore.He swallowed hard, his throat tight with something he didn't want to name. "Yeah," he said simply. "I guess we are." A beat passed where neither of them spoke. The parking lot was silent except for the distant hum of traffic on the highway miles away. Then Eddie did something impulsive - something stupid, probably - and took a small step forward before wrapping Steve in a tight hug.

Steve's mind went blank for a split second in shock.He'd expected a lot of things when Eddie reached out to him. A sarcastic comment, a pat on the back, even a friendly push maybe. But not this. And for once, Steve didn't think. He just reacted. His arms instinctively wrapped around Eddie in return, his hands gripping his shoulders. He tensed for a second, surprised at the intimacy of it - but then he melted into the hug. It was as if a weight he hadn't even realized he was carrying lifted suddenly.

"Shit," Steve muttered into Eddie's shoulder, his voice thick with something uncharacteristically vulnerable. His arms tightened around him almost on instinct - like if he held on tight enough, they could both pretend the world wasn't falling apart. The hug lasted longer than either of them probably expected it to. Neither pulled away immediately. Eddie didn’t know why he was hugging him so tightly either. It wasn't something they did. They weren't the touchy-feely type with each other - hell, most of their interactions involved sarcasm and eye rolls. But right now? None of that mattered.

Eddie just held on like maybe this would fix everything for a second - like if they stayed like this long enough, the exhaustion and fear wouldn't feel quite as heavy anymore. His hands fisted slightly in the back of Steve's jacket without thinking about it. Steve didn’t say anything.He just stood there, holding Eddie like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they’d done this a thousand times before. His breath evened out slowly against Eddie's shoulder, his chin resting lightly on top of his head without him realizing he'd shifted into that position. For two guys who spent half their time bickering and giving each other shit… this felt weirdly right.

Steve exhaled slowly, the tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders since they left Hawkins finally starting to ease.The parking lot was quiet. The diner lights blurred behind them through foggy windows. Somewhere far off, a truck rumbled down the highway. Neither of them spoke yet - just stayed like that for another long moment before Steve finally cleared his throat quietly and pulled back slightly.

"You good?"

Eddie hesitated.The question hung in the cold air between them. He felt weirdly exposed now that they weren’t hugging anymore, like he’d just shown too much of himself and wasn't sure what to do with it. "Yeah," he said finally, voice a little rough. "I think so." It wasn't entirely true - his heart was still pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with fear anymore - but admitting that would be crossing a line neither of them were ready to cross yet.

"You?" he added, stuffing his hands back in his pockets again and forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.His body felt strangely cold without the hug. Which was stupid, really - they were standing out in the damn cold and neither of them was even wearing a jacket. So why did he miss the way Steve felt against him so much all of a sudden?

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward now that they weren’t hugging. "Yeah," he said. "I'm good." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, staring down at Eddie’s boots before glancing up again. The silence stretched between them - not uncomfortable exactly, but… different. Then Steve did something impulsive too.

Without warning or thinking about it too hard,

he reached out and gently cupped Eddie's face with one hand.

"Steve?"

Eddie's voice came out small, almost confused. His breath hitched as Steve's hand touched his face - warm against the cold air. His eyes widened slightly, searching Steve’s expression for any hint of what this meant. Was he about to get kissed? Was that happening right now? Eddie didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stood there frozen like a deer in headlights, heart hammering so loud he was sure everyone could hear it even from inside the diner.

Steve's thumb brushed lightly over Eddie's cheek, his touch strangely and unexpectedly gentle.He knew this was probably a bad idea. Knew he was venturing into dangerous territory even thinking about it. But damn, Eddie looked so different like this - standing there all stunned and quiet and looking up at him with those big eyes. And Steve kind of, sort of, desperately wanted to kiss him.

"Goddamn it…" Steve breathed without realizing it out loud, more to himself than anything else.His eyes darted down to Eddie's full mouth, then back up to his eyes again. That look on his face - half confused, half something that looked like hope. Steve's hand still lingered against Eddie's cheek, his fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, and-

And then his mind started racing.This was a terrible idea. He and Eddie didn't do this. They bickered and teased and argued and messed around. They didn't kiss.

Steve leaned in slowly, giving Eddie every chance to pull away or stop him.But he didn't. So Steve closed the distance between them and pressed his lips gently against Eddie's. It was soft at first - tentative, almost questioning. Like he was testing the waters of something completely new between them. His hand stayed cradling Eddie’s face as their mouths met properly for what might've been their very first kiss.

Eddie didn't pull away. If anything, he melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to fist in the front of Steve's shirt like that would ground him. His eyes fluttered shut and he swore the whole world felt like it was shifting and tilting under his feet. It shouldn't have felt good to kiss someone like this. Steve Harrington, of all people. But somehow it did. God damn it, it did.

Steve kissed Eddie like he’d been wanting to do this for a long time.Because honestly? Maybe he had. His lips moved against Eddie's with quiet certainty, his hands sliding down from his face to cup the sides of it more firmly as the kiss deepened slightly. There was nothing hesitant about it now - just warmth and something that felt an awful lot like relief. One of Steve’s thumbs brushed along Eddie’s cheekbone while their mouths stayed connected in that parking lot under flickering diner lights.

Eddie made a soft noise against Steve's lips, an involuntary thing that was somewhere between surprise and something close to need.He never would have imagined himself making sounds like that. At least not for Steve. But here he was, making it anyway, his hands gripping the front of Steve's shirt like he was hanging on to keep from falling. The cold air around them faded into nothing, leaving only the heat of Steve's mouth against his own.

"Holy shit," Steve murmured against Eddie's lips when they finally broke apart for air.His face was flushed, his breathing slightly uneven. He blinked a few times like he couldn't quite believe what just happened. Then without thinking - because apparently his brain had short-circuited completely - Steve leaned right back in and kissed him again. This time harder, hungrier than before. Steve pulled Eddie closer by the fabric of his shirt, their bodies pressing together as the kiss intensified. His lips moved with a newfound confidence now - no more hesitation, just pure want. One hand tangled gently in Eddie’s curly hair while the other stayed firmly on his waist. He hadn’t kissed anyone like this since Nancy, and damn if it didn't feel different - better even.

Eddie kissed back like his life depended on it.No thoughts. No sarcasm. Just Steve’s lips, Steve's hands in his hair, Steve pulling him closer like he couldn't stand an inch of space between them. His own hands roamed wildly - one sliding up to grip the back of Steve’s neck while the other pressed flat against his chest, feeling how fast Harrington was breathing too. It wasn’t graceful or poetic or any of that shit Eddie usually imagined first kisses would be in movies. This was messy and desperate and real.

Steve’s breathing hitched when Eddie's hand slid to the back of his neck, sending sparks down his spine.He kissed him deeper, teeth grazing Eddie’s lower lip before soothing it with another soft press of his mouth. His pulse pounded in his ears - loud enough that he was sure Eddie could hear it too. The cold didn't matter anymore. The diner behind them didn't exist either. Just this - just Eddie.

Eventually, it was their lungs that forced them apart again.Steve pulled back just far enough so their foreheads were touching. He was still gripping Eddie's shirt, one hand tangled deep in those soft brown curls. For a second or two, they just stood there, breathing heavily against each other like they'd just run miles instead of kissing. It was Steve who finally let out a shaky laugh against Eddie’s mouth. "Jesus," he whispered, eyes shut. "That was…" He didn't seem to know how to finish.

"Yeah," Eddie breathed out, still dazed.His fingers were still twisted in Steve's hair like he didn't ever want to let go. His face felt warm - no, hot - and his heart hadn't slowed down a single bit. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting Steve’s gaze for the first time since they'd stopped kissing. And then? Then Eddie did something reckless again. Eddie’s hands, which had been resting gently on Steve's waist, suddenly slid down without warning. And then - oh shit - one of them gave a firm squeeze right over Harrington’s ass. No warning. No hesitation. Just pure impulse taking over. He didn’t even think about it until after he’d done it - and now his brain was short-circuiting all over again because holy hell, did that feel good?

Steve's eyes widened the moment Eddie's hand slid down without warning and grabbed his ass. He let out a short, sharp Jesus that turned into an involuntary, shaky exhale of half-laughter, half-surprise. His hands, still tangled in Eddie's hair, tugged gently on the curls in retaliation. "You are such a dick," Steve muttered against his mouth. The word didn't sound insulting somehow - more like he actually liked it.

Eddie grinned against Steve’s mouth, unrepentant."Yeah? Well you kissed me first," he shot back, voice laced with that trademark Munson smirk. And then - because Eddie had zero chill when it came to things like this - his other hand joined the party and also grabbed Harrington’s ass. No subtlety here. Just full-on groping in a diner parking lot at 3 AM like a couple of horny teenagers who'd finally snapped after too much tension building up for years.

Steve gasped dramatically when Eddie squeezed again, his hands dropping from Eddie’s hair to hover awkwardly for a second like he didn’t know what to do with them. “You’re such a freak,” Steve accused breathlessly, but there was zero real annoyance in it. If anything, he sounded weirdly thrilled by this development. Then - because two could play at this game - Steve suddenly yanked Eddie closer and kissed him hard while simultaneously grabbing his ass right back. Payback time.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasped into the kiss when Steve’s hands grabbed his ass right back.He knew he was hard now. There was no hiding it, not with how close they were pressed together. But honestly? He didn’t care. If anything, the fact that Steve was kissing him like this and touching him so boldly made his stomach flip in a way he hadn't felt before - all heat and want and something dangerously close to affection.

Steve broke the kiss again, panting slightly as he stared at Eddie’s face.His cheeks were flushed, his lips swollen from kissing. He looked wrecked in the best possible way. Without a word, Steve grabbed Eddie's hand and started tugging him toward their van parked nearby - because hell, no way they were staying out here doing this where anyone could see them through diner windows.

He wanted privacy for whatever came next.