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“You are almost nothing like I thought you’d be.” Steve said one day, neither of them paying much attention to the sitcom they’d put on while they polished off a six pack between them. “My first impression of you was like, everyone used to talk about The Freak being so mean and scary and like,” Steve gestured with his nearly empty bottle, “you’re an asshole at times, but scary? Nah, man.”
Eddie snickered. “Dude, you have a bat full of nails in your trunk and have averted the end of the world four times. Your definition of scary is a bit skewed.”
Steve killed his beer. “No, even before all that. I thought you were scary. Screamy music, lots of black, all dark and brooding.” Steve poked Eddie’s shoulder with the bottle. “But you, Eddie Munson are, like, just a big marshmallow. Especially for the kids. And Nance. And welcoming Vickie to the group. Talking to Robin about the movies I don’t care about.”
Eddie frowned. “I have ruined my own reputation.” He shrugged. “It’s a defense mechanism, like those butterflies that mimic monarchs because predators know monarchs are poisonous.”
“A viceroy,” Steve nodded in understanding.
Eddie smiled at him, “I fucking love that you know that off the top of your head.”
Steve shrugged but felt a pleased blush on his alcohol-warmed cheeks.
“Anyway, I started by trying to look tough. Buzzed my hair in middle school and wore a lot of camo, like I was a soldier or something. Trying to be more like Wayne than my dad.”
“Holy shit, that’s right,” Steve said, an image of a boy at the back of the classroom glaring daggers at everyone.
Eddie shrugged. “Didn’t work though. Still got my ass kicked, even when I fought back. Always outnumbered, y’know?”
“Did I-“ Steve swallowed hard, “I don’t… I don’t remember ever… at you?”
Reading between the pauses, Eddie shook his head. “Nah, man. I mean, you were in the crowds that stood around and watched sometimes, but no, you never hit me or flushed my head in the toilet. Mostly ignored me.”
Steve frowned. “I was such a fucking tool. Like genuine grade A asshole.”
“You grew out of it,” Eddie patted his knee. “Anyway, when that didn’t work, I changed my plan. I found D&D and decided, if I couldn’t be tough, I would lean into who I am, allllll the damn way. Make sure no one wanted to get near enough for a punch. Loud, dramatic. Off-putting,” he gestured to himself with a sour look. “A freak.”
Steve did not find Eddie off-putting and that was the reason he’d been spending so much time in the library, hiding amongst the stacks and surreptitiously reading books Robin had recommended to him. She’d been surprised when Steve told her about his feelings for and attraction to Eddie, but Robin was nothing if not a wealth of random information on topics that interested her.
He just wished so much of the small amounts of gay history he could find wasn’t so fucking sad. Like that Harvey Milk guy, or AIDS. If Steve from three years ago had felt what current Steve felt when Eddie smiled at him, he’s pretty sure the younger version of him would have taken that secret to his fucking grave. No way, no chance, too much to risk.
Steve likes to think he’s braver now. That the friends he has, even Henderson’s little troop of well-intentioned and impulsive idiots, are the kind that will stay by his side no matter what.
“…I mean, no one’s gonna beat up the guy they think might ritually sacrifice their dog,” Eddie huffed a bitter laugh. “If only they knew how terrified I am of dogs,” his wide grin was back.
“Really?” Steve raised his eyebrows.
Eddie nodded. “Oh hell yeah, man. Got bit when I was like, three or whatever. Even the tiny dogs scare the hell out of me.”
Steve placed a gentle hand on Eddie’s arm. “Probably a good thing you missed the Demogorgon dogs then. Like Dart. That was,” he thought, “two years ago.”
A moment of silence and then Eddie whispered, “What the fuck is your life, dude?”
Steve shrugged.
“Sticking a pin in that for later,” Eddie said. “But yeah, I don’t think there’s a single rumor about me that’s completely true.”
“Are there any that are kinda true?” Steve asked - no malice, just curiosity.
Eddie thought of some choice graffiti in the boy’s bathroom by the science lab about his desire to suck cock and how, since hanging around Steve, that thought wasn’t as far from Eddie’s mind as it used to be. “Maybe a little? Mostly just shitheads saying stupid shit because they are trying to deflect attention away from their own homosexual tendencies.”
Steve tilted his head and Eddie knew he was wading through the words. Eddie tried to speak slower now that he knew how bad Steve’s concussions had rattled his noggin, but he was used to spouting that particular line to cafeterias and his bandmates so it came out too quick.
“Oh,” Steve said. Then his eyes widened. “Ohhhh.” Then another pause as his brows furrowed. “…oh.”
“How did you manage to say the same word three entirely different ways?” Eddie asked.
Steve counted off on his fingers. “Understanding what you said. Understanding what you were inadvertently saying about yourself. Understanding previous interactions I watched Tommy H have with this new information. I think he was gay for me.”
Eddie couldn’t help the snort. “My friend, blind lemurs in Timbuktu were aware that Tommy H was incredibly gay for you.”
“You jumped right over the inadvertent admission about yourself,” Steve smirked.
“Kinda hoping you forgot that bit already,” Eddie shrugged.
Steve’s smirk sharpened. “Nope, I always remember the important stuff.” He sidled closer to Eddie.
“What is happening now?”
“I thought it would be obvious.”
“Super super senior,” Eddie pointed to himself. “So, uh, spell it out for me, Harrington.”
Steve chuckled. “I was better at Show and Tell anyway,” was all he said before leaning in to kiss Eddie, soft but sure.
Eddie blinked as Steve pulled back, eyebrows raised. “Well? First impressions?”
“The rumors of my heterosexuality have been greatly exaggerated,” Eddie said with a nod.
“It’s called bisexuality,” Steve said. “Welcome to the club.”
Eddie grinned. “It’s called having your first kiss be Steve Harrington.”
Steve’s eyes softened like he was looking at the little dog Max fed by her trailer. “I’m your first kiss?”
Eddie stood abruptly. “Well, look at the time,” he glanced at his empty wrist. “I best be moseying along,” he stood, fully prepared to run and hide.
“It’s your house, dumbass.” Steve said, pulling him back to the couch. “I like that I’m your first kiss. Can I be the second? Third? Maybe hundredth?”
Eddie grinned and kissed Steve, embarrassment forgotten. “You can have all of them, baby. Start counting.”