#llg writes

“Because I wanted to? Why else do you kiss people?”

Eddie sees the logic there. He does, but —“you’re not gay.”

Steve shrugs. “You’re like an exception or something.”

“Why?”

Eddie wants to feel flattered by that, but he can’t help but wonder if there’s something distinctly feminine about him that’s attracting Steve. He doesn’t look or act like any of the girls he’s known. His hair is long, curly and dark, maybe that’s it?

Maybe Steve just has a thing for brunettes. Nancy is brunette, and Eddie is pretty sure the last girl Steve went out with was also brunette.

“Just are,” Steve tells him like it really is that simple. “I like hanging out with you.”

“Okay, but hanging out and making out are two very different things, man.” Eddie waves his hands around, widening the distance between them. “Very, very different.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that.”

“Starting to think you don’t.”

“Look.” Steve pauses to smack Eddie’s hands out of the air. “If you don’t believe me you can just say that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Jesus Christ, you're annoying,” Steve tells him.

“Yeah, I know, that’s why it’s weird that you want to kiss me.”

“Maybe it’s part of the reason I want to kiss you.”

“That makes even less sense.” Eddie feels like yanking all his hair out, maybe Steve’s hair too. “I’m a guy. An annoying, nerdy, guy— Steve, I have a dick in these jeans, in case you didn’t know or like forgot or something.”

The look Steve gives him is flat and verging into bitchy. “Yeah, I know you have a dick.”

Eddie’s hands fall back to his sides. He doesn’t know what else to say here, he kind of wishes Robin was here with a white board and some markers. A venn diagram might help him understand what’s happening. See where the overlap between Steve’s type and Eddie actually is.

It can't just be brown hair, right?

“The dick isn’t going to magically go away,” Eddie settles on saying. “It’s there. All the time. If you kiss me it’s going to do things man, it’s gonna react because your fucking you— and then you’re gonna freak out because I’m hard and it like poked you.”

“I also have a dick,” Steve reminds him, “I know how they work.”

“Then you know I can’t control it.”

“That’s really not a problem.”

“Not yet.”

Eddie watches as Steve's hands go up to his hair, messing up the look he probably spent an hour on.

Steve’s eyes tip towards the ceiling. He looks like he wants to pull out his hair too.

“Am I not your type,” Steve asks the little water-spot above them. “I know we don’t have a lot in common so— if you’re just not into guys like me, it’s cool. You can tell me, I won’t be mad or offended or whatever.”

Steve’s dark eyes flick down to Eddie and then back to the ceiling. “It’s… You’re into metal guys, right? Guys who actually listen to Dio or, or guys that play your nerd game.”

His nose wrinkles like he hadn’t meant to say that last part.

“Hold up,” Eddie says and despite the distance he’s been trying to keep between them, he steps a little closer. “You think you’re not my type? You. Steve Harrington. You think I’m not like tragically attracted to you, man? Seriously?”

Steve sways back when he looks at Eddie, seemingly startled by how close they suddenly are. “Uh, yeah. That’s kinda what this whole conversation is about.”

Eddie lets out a loud incredulous laugh. “Ha, no. No, that is not what this conversation is about.”

“Yes, it is.” Steve frowns. “You don’t want me to kiss you because I’m not your type.”

“When did I say that?”

“When— the whole time you've been talking me out of kissing you.”

“Because you’re Steve Harrington! You’re the resident ladies man of Hawkins and I am not a lady.”

“How many times do I have to say I know you have a dick.” Steve groans, hands dropping from his hair to rub at his face.

“Okay,” Steve says into his palms. “Okay, this is— this is worse than when I tried to confess to Robin, like way worse— Christ.” His hands fall to his sides, looking weirdly defeated. “You know what, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then he’s stepping away from Eddie, heading for the door like this isn’t his house they’re both standing in right now. Like Eddie isn’t the one intruding in Steve’s space.

Confused, Eddie asks, “Where are you going?”

“Robin’s.”

Eddie watches him tug a jacket from the coat rack and toe himself back into his shoes before he finally realizes that Steve has been serious this entire. Really serious.

“You actually want to kiss me,” Eddie says to his back.

Steve sighs, struggling with his left shoe. “A little less than before,” his tone is just a little bitchy, frustrated, “but yeah.”

“Shit,” Eddie says, and even though Steve isn’t looking, he nods his head, a rapid bob of it. “Shit, okay, yeah, kiss me.”

“What?” Steve glances back at him, brows furrowed. “No.”

“No?” Eddie sputters. “What do you mean no? You’ve been trying to kiss me for the last twenty minutes and now it’s no?”

“You didn’t want me to kiss you.”

“I thought you were having some kind of psychotic break before.”

Steve gaps at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I was concerned.” Eddie waves his hands around again. “I thought we were just really good friends, Steve, and I was trying very, very, very fucking hard not to get feelings for you so when you suddenly tried to kiss me I just— I panicked.”

They stand there staring at each other. Eddie feeling weirdly out of breath, Steve with only one shoe completely on and the his foot half stuffed into the other one.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says finally, slumping a little. He kicks the half shoe off as he fully turns toward Eddie. A hand shoots out to grab Eddie by the collar and tug him closer. “You’re really fucking frustrating you know that, Munson?”

Eddie nods. “I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.”

Steve kisses him, quick and a little biting like he really is annoyed.

It’s over before Eddie really gets a chance to panic or process.

Steve doesn’t let go of his shirt, doesn’t move very far away either. “Still think I’m crazy?”

“Shit I hope so,” Eddie says and kisses him again, harder, deeper, desperate.

Maybe it’ll all blow up in Eddie’s face later. Maybe it’ll be bad.

When steddie happens, Steve would try to play it cautious. He’s been burnt so many times that he holds the words to his chest for weeks, maybe even months before they finally come spilling out. And, Eddie would be stunned. He could probably count on his hands the times he’s been verbally told he’s loved. And, of course he loves steve too. How could anyone not love steve? But Eddie can’t get the words out.

And Steve, he gets it. He knows Eddie. Knows that even though Eddie can’t say it, that the way he leans into Steve and kisses him all soft and sweet and deep says it for him. It’s in Eddie’s big expressive eyes the way it’s never been in anyone else’s before. Steve wants to hear the words, but he doesn’t need them from Eddie because he can see it. It’s mutual. It’s reciprocated and that’s enough for Steve.

I do think Eddie will say it. Later. Maybe a few months down the line and I think it’ll be such a random and seemingly unremarkable moment. That Steve is probably just sitting there, all focused and squinty eyed as he’s working on something and Eddie is watching him. And Eddie loves him. Loves him so so fucking much and the words don’t seem all that scary or hard to say anymore.

“Steve?”

“Hmm,” Steve hums, not looking up from the bracelets he promised to make for Max and El.

And Eddie can’t stop the grin on his face, the relief as the words roll so easily off his tongue. So earnest and honest and heartfelt, “I love you.”

Steves head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks over at Eddie.

Eddie feels warm beneath that gaze, hair tickling his cheek as he tugs it over his mouth. It’s out of habit more than embarrassment, or vulnerability.