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Eddie has been to hell. He knows what that horrible, traumatic place is.
This… this is heaven.
Heaven is his lumpy mattress in the new-improved government funded trailer. It’s the early morning light peeking through his drawn curtains. It’s a warm body curled around him like he’s the only shelter in a storm. It’s Steve Harrington cuddled up in his arms, breathing easily as if he, Eddie Munson, is what can chase the demons and nightmares away.
Heaven, is holding the boy of his dreams.
But, heaven isn’t perfect. Because, perfect would be a boyfriend in his arms. A guy who will wake up and give him a smile and a kiss before complaining about having to leave the bed.
But Steve Harrington isn’t going to do or be any of those things. And that could hurt (and some days it does) but right now, it’s nice to lay in his bed, fingers gently rubbing circles against Steve’s shirt.
Slowly, Steve stirs and Eddie smiles faintly. Steve’s nose scrunches cutely and he turns his head, hair tickling Eddie’s chin before he looks up.
He’s adorable; sleepy and only half-functioning.
“Eds?”
“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says quietly.
“Fell asleep?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You still suck at getting high.”
Steve snorts, but he’s smiling. He also drops his head back on Eddie’s chest and Eddie loves this. His heart feels so fucking warm in his chest.
Steve, he knows, isn’t the most affectionate person. A lifetime of absent parents and uber-masculine jocks means he was never used to affection from anyone other than a girlfriend.
Robin had helped chip away at his walls and what was left, Eddie had steamrolled through.
Now, Steve knows he can let his guard down around them and lap up the kind of simple, platonic touches that had previously been foreign to him.
And the thing is, no matter what Eddie would like them to be, the touches truly are platonic. He’d give the same affection to Robin or Dustin or anyone if that was what they needed.
Running a gentle hand up Steve’s back, he smiles at the other boy’s shiver only to dig his fingers in Steve’s hair. He rubs more gentle circles and tugs absently at some strands. Steve melts, going boneless against him. He hums a soft, contented noise and Eddie’s heart swells.
Steve’s arms have been mostly wrapped around him, but they tighten as he tries to wiggle even closer. The motion is always a dangerous one and drags him towards a territory that Eddie knows will punch through their comfortable morning together.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten hard in bed with Steve.
The first time, he’d almost had a panic attack, but Steve had waved it off as morning wood. Eddie is very grateful that, despite it happening five more times, Steve has never dug any deeper into exactly why he enjoys their bodies together a hell of a lot more than Steve does.
He figures that, by now, Steve knows he’s gay, but he’s never said and Steve’s never asked. He’s also never stopped these slices of domesticity, so, Eddie makes sure to keep his mouth shut and his dick under control.
So, he keeps his breathing even. He looks up at the roof and thinks about Mrs. O’Donnell’s class. A sure-fire way to lose any potential boner he might be getting. At the same time, he keeps his hands on Steve, petting and enjoying.
Steve has settled too, so the threat of arousal is minimised. It’s still there because he always finds Steve hot, always wants to kiss, strip and touch him without clothes but these mornings… he treasures them a lot more for how sweet they are; how much it lets Steve relax and be taken care of for a change.
It’s a far cry from where Eddie could have reasonably expected them to end up when Dustin had started talking about Steve Harrington at Hellfire—it’s also something he wouldn’t trade for the world.
He brings the hand not in Steve’s hair to his lower back. There’s a sliver of skin where his shirt has risen up. Eddie’s fingers brush it and Steve shivers again, but Eddie grabs the material and gently tugs it back down. He then lays his palm on Steve’s lower back, keeping the barrier of his shirt between them.
It’s some of the few lines he’s drawn for himself in their mornings; areas he doesn’t let himself touch. It’s why he always gets Steve to wear a shirt whenever they do this; if things ever come to light between them, he wants solid ground to stand beneath. He wants Steve to never look back and think he took advantage of him in any way.
“It’s okay if you wanna,” Steve mumbles, voice slightly muffled by Eddie’s chest.
“Want to what, Stevie?”
“Touch.”
Eddie keeps his breathing low and steady, but he doesn’t move. Steve on the other hand wriggles, just enough that his shirt, which is still caught by his stomach, goes back to what it had been before he fixed it. Eddie can feel it bunching under his hand. His pinkie is just barely scraping Steve’s sleep-warmed skin.
This is… new.
He’s just not sure if it’s dangerous too.
“Do you want me to touch you more, Steve?”
“Mm.” Steve hums softly. “Sure.”
Eddie continues to hesitate because while he’s almost completely certain Steve knows he’s gay and knows his morning wood isn’t exactly an accident, he’s also never specifically told Steve the truth about his sexuality and feelings.
And even with permission, this feels a little too… deceitful.
He also does not want to fuck up or lose their mornings just so he can get his hands on Steve sans-shirt. Does he want to slide his hands up Steve’s ribs, over his back and trace every mole he’s guiltily memorised from afternoons by the Harrington pool? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Is he going to?
… No.
The realisation sits a little heavy in his chest, but it’s the safe option. So, he ignores that bit of skin that Steve has revealed and instead moves both hands up Steve’s body. It’s not the best position, but he’s done it before. He starts massaging Steve’s shoulders and neck; touching him in the spaces that have long been shared in these early mornings.
Steve hums contently at first, bumping his head lightly against Eddie’s chest like a cat lapping up affection. Eddie feels the sharp and intense urge to kiss the top of his friend’s head—but that’s another line he won’t cross. He never, ever kisses Steve; even just a playful and loud smack of lips to the cheek like he’s given Robin and Nancy. That is off-limits with Steve, on these mornings especially.
“Eds?”
“Yeah, Steve?”
“You can, you know. Touch.”
Eddie’s hands still, he swallows around a sudden lump. A frisson of fear uncurls in his stomach, travelling up his spine. He hasn’t felt truly worried about these mornings since his first panic attack about getting hard.
Because, while Steve almost certainly knows, there has been a level of plausible deniability. These mornings aren’t touched by the cold light of day. The reality of queerness, crushes and attraction.
And while he knows that this won’t last forever; that Steve will get a girlfriend and then a wife. A girl who will do this with him and fulfil the role that Eddie is guiltily stealing. Eddie wants it to end like that. Wants to be not needed as opposed to not wanted or worse than that, not trusted.
“Let’s not do that, Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, softly twining his fingers in Steve’s hair.
Steve shifts his head, not enough to dislodge his touch, but enough to peer up at him, a small furrow on his brow.
“Huh? Why not?”
Eddie’s nerves grow. He chews the inside of his lip. He looks down at the pretty, perfect boy cuddled against him.
He looks down at his little slice of heaven and internally, he sighs.
“Because I want that a little too much, sweetheart,” he admits quietly.
Steve looks even more perplexed at first, yet he soon smiles, amused and asks, “And that’s a bad thing?”
Eddie tries to smile back, but he knows it’s tighter, not as easy. He fiddles with Steve’s hair in lieu of his rings.
Because, while this isn’t a line he wouldn’t cross, it is a promise he made to himself when this first started. He swore that if Steve ever asked, he’d answer.
“Depends,” he murmurs.
“On?”
“If we talk about something we haven’t been talking about, and you decide to regret it.”
“… Huh?”
Eddie huffs out a breath and tilts his head back on the pillow, looking at the roof. He also slips his hands from Steve’s hair, running over his friend’s shoulders and back before dropping his arms on either side of the mattress; free and clear and nothing holding Steve in place.
There is an ache resting heavy on his chest, telling him that he is going to be the one regretting this, but he made a promise and he won’t go back on it.
“I’m pretty sure you know I’m gay,” Eddie mumbles. “Haven’t exactly hidden it. But I’ve always made sure not to touch you too much. Or well, too much in a gay way.”
He really wants to fidget or get up and pace, but that involves moving and if Steve isn’t letting him go, then the last thing he wants to do is be the one to pull them apart.
“Touching you like that…” Eddie swallows. “It’s not a thing I think we should do. You might say it’s okay but… I don’t know if it will be.”
Steve shifts, untangling his arms and pushing up and Eddie does not expect how much having Steve leave would hurt—but instead of climbing off the bed, Steve is suddenly in his line of vision, looking down at him with a furrowed brow.
“Dude. Are you saying none of what we’ve been doing has been queer?”
Eddie blinks. It’s… not what he expects, and Steve is continuing before he can figure out what to say in reply.
“We’ve been sharing a bed and cuddling almost every night,” Steve says, still sounding confused. “I lay on top of you and you play with my hair and shit. Do you seriously do that with everyone else?”
Eddie blinks some more.
“I mean… no,” he admits. “But I could. It doesn’t have to be a gay thing.”
Steve, if possible, looks even more confused, maybe even a little concerned. And it makes some gears in his head start turning. They point him in a very, very heart-stopping direction.
“Wait… Steve. Did you think this was a queer thing?” His heart is racing, his hands twitching with the urge to touch—to hold the boy above him. “Were you actually doing this with me and meaning it like that?”
Steve bites his bottom lip, looking oddly nervous. His gaze has also fallen to Eddie’s chest.
“I mean, I... yeah? I thought you were just being slow with me. Easing me into the idea of dating a guy? Of… of falling for a guy.”
Eddie’s breath leaves him in a rush. It feels punched out of him with the force of his shock.
“But if I was reading this all wrong...”
Steve starts to shift, to pull away and Eddie grabs his hips, digs his fingers in.
“You weren’t, Steve,” Eddie hurries to correct. Only. He winces. “—I mean you were. I wasn’t doing it like that. I was trying hard to not do it like that. But Christ, I do want you. You weren’t wrong about how much I like you. I just… didn’t ever think you’d want that.”
“Oh,” Steve murmurs.
“But I would,” Eddie quickly adds. “I would be slow with you. I’d take as long as you wanted and needed. I’d even just be happy with this.” He laughs. “Fuck, Steve, I was happy with this. Do you have any idea how much of a piece of heaven you were giving me?”
Steve’s cheeks immediately heat.
“Fuck off, man. I’ve only shared a bed with you.”
Steve’s embarrassed and it’s adorable, but even more beautiful than that is exactly what this means—what Steve has confessed.
It gives Eddie just enough confidence to slide his fingers up, letting the tips of them rest just under Steve’s shirt on his waist. Steve’s gaze which had still been on Eddie’s chest flicks up to meet his. His friend’s face is still warm with embarrassment, but he looks pleased.
“Lay back down, sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently.
Steve’s lips curl in a small smile before he does just that, lowering back to Eddie’s chest and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. Eddie bites his lip but it doesn’t stop his ridiculously wide smile. He wraps his arms around Steve, letting one hand slide under the other boy’s shirt to rest directly on his lower back. Steve sighs softly, relaxing further into his touch.
It’s the same as before, but that extra bit of skin, Steve’s implication; it’s enough to change everything. Where before there was the knowledge that this was all he’d ever have, that there were lines in the sand that he couldn’t cross—now everything is shifting. Pathways are opening and these mornings, these little bits of heaven aren’t on a time limit, they can actually be his forever.
And as if reading his mind, Steve mumbles, “I do, you know. Want this with you. Dating and stuff.”
“Me too,” he whispers, and his voice is a lot rawer and more yearning than he really intends to display.
Steve just shuffles even closer, the top of his head right below Eddie’s chin and he just—he’s already crossed a line, but Steve erased it first, so. He shifts just enough to brush his lips against Steve’s head. A firm, affectionate and undeniable kiss. Steve sighs again and curls his arms around Eddie’s waist, hugging him tight.
Eddie’s heart feels full enough to burst, because this morning is shaping up as perfect. He has a sort-of boyfriend in his arms. A boy who woke up and smiled at him, who Eddie is now allowed to kiss and touch.
Yeah, they’re going to need a bit more of a conversation once they climb out of bed so they can figure out what exactly is going to happen between them, but Eddie is almost looking forward to it.
Because he was already happy just holding Steve and waking up with him in the mornings—being able to have more with the guy of his dreams? No matter what Steve says, Eddie really is waking up in heaven.