Archive of Our Own

Fall always brought up a mixture of emotions for Steve. He loved the aesthetic, the mood of it all; curled up on the sofa with Robin, their bare feet pressed against the warmth of each other’s legs; piping hot chai lattes, the smell of cinnamon as he walked; the soft glow from the candles around the apartment because they did not have a fireplace. 

As much as he loved the darkening skies in the mornings and evenings, the smell of campfires, it also felt a little oppressive. He struggled to get himself out of bed; to motivate himself to do the things he loved.

Robin had bought him a sun lamp, told him to spend thirty minutes in front of it every morning. Steve wasn’t sure if it was actually helping him, or if his need to please Robin and keep the smile on her face sort of overrode seasonal depression. 

That was the problem, he thought to himself, with not having a real job - as his father would say - no real sense of routine, no pressure to make sure you were in the office right at nine in the morning. 

Steve did have a job - and a very well paying one at that. 

He wasn’t sure how he had begun to accumulate followers - Robin told him it was because of his looks, but Steve always joked back that it was his charming personality. In reality, the two of them had a combined just over six million followers on Twitch alone and Steve was convinced it was because of their combined humour and jokes when they streamed together. Although seemingly different audiences, something about it just worked. They were two halves of one whole, and their viewers loved it. 

People hadn’t realised they lived together, until the eventful Minecraft stream. From scratch, they had been building up a city of their own and Steve had finally gotten the last item he needed to build a potion stand, something he had been trying to do over days of streaming. And Robin had accidentally hit him off of a cliff, so far from his spawn point. He’d sat there, in silence, looking at his dead little square body before taking off his headphones and walking off screen. And then, to the delight of Robin's viewers, he showed up behind her on camera, standing behind her like Michael Myers. When she noticed she screeched, throwing off her own headphones and bolting for the living room. There had been a few minutes of empty seats on their screens as they chased each other around their apartment. 

Steve sat on the couch, legs curled underneath him as he edited the VOD of his recent stream - his and Robin’s multiplayer farm on Stardew Valley - to upload to his Youtube. He was running behind, having already missed his usual upload time by a few hours. He had his Twitter notifications turned off, obviously, but knew if he opened it his mentions would be bombarded with questions asking when the video would be up. 

It was a little overwhelming, sometimes. 

He heard the lock of the front door click open, and then heard the slam as Robin shouldered her way into their apartment, the door handle smacking into the wall. 

“Alright, dingus, time for a break,” she called to him, lifting bags up onto the kitchen counter.

Their apartment was spacious, but modest. After a short entry corridor where their coat hooks and boot rack sat, it opened up into an open plan kitchen-living room-dining room combination. There was enough space for a large kitchen island as well as a large dining table - since there was a gaggle of teens always mooching food off of them, and as much as Steve would grumble, he did love to host - before ending with the living area. They’d splurged on an incredibly soft L-shaped sofa, with an underside that actually pulled out to make one large square side. It was bought with the excuse of having somewhere for people to stay over, but mostly Steve and Robin pulled out to turn it into a sort of hibernation nest for movie marathons. The far wall was floor to ceiling windows, giving them an excellent view out over the city. Bracketing the living room on either side were Robin and Steve’s bedrooms.

The smell of delicious Chinese food wafted his way and before he knew it, Steve had set his laptop on the coffee table and had taken a seat at the counter of the island. Robin swatted his hand away as she started pulling out cartons. She wordlessly handed him a cartoon of chow mein and he moaned at the first bite, finally realising he hadn’t eaten for quite a few hours, now. 

“How’s the video coming along?” She asked, conversationally, and he buried his head in his arms. “That great, huh?”

He peaked through a small gap in his elbow, and she was grinning at him over her dumpling soup. 

“M’nearly done,” he said, readjusting himself to eat properly. “We’re supposed to stream tonight, yeah?”

She grinned. “Halloween stream.”

“It’s September !”

Robin pointed a fork at him, about to fire back a retort but accidentally catapulting some food directly into the bridge of Steve’s nose. There was a beat of silence before they doubled over laughing, wiping at their eyes. Steve had to hold the back of his chair to keep him upright and when Robin snorted - sounding exactly like a pig - they were set off again in complete hysterics, unable to form words anymore. Steve slid out of his chair, laying on the ground as he tried to catch his breath, but Robin screamed with laughter when Steve hadn’t been able to stay in the chair. Eventually they calmed down, but eye contact still brought out a fit of giggles. 

His face hurt from the laughter, his chest full with happiness. After dragging himself from the floor and finishing his meal, he finally was able to upload his video, sending out a quick tweet to remind people.

@SteveHarrington - Stardew valley stream w/ @RobinHood is now up on youtube! Come watch us build an ancient fruit wine monopoly and absolutely destroy this small town’s economy

Within seconds the replies and likes came flooding in.

@babygirlsteve: EEEEEEEEE

@RobinBuckleyNet: who are you going to marry in stardew??? Or are you going to marry each other??

@itssavvy: i cant wait to meet you both at twitchcon

Steve scrolled through the responses mindlessly. It was still weird to him that so many people were interested in him. Particularly when people made entire twitter accounts just for him. 

@RobinHood: tune in on twitch in FIFTEEN MINUTES. steve and i are playing horror games bc i like to watch him scream. starting with dead by daylight and we’ll see where the evening takes us

His room was spacious enough to include a relatively large desk and pc set up. He didn’t have a lot of decorations, mostly things Robin had got for him, a kind of hold over from his mothers authoritarian decoration scheme. 

Settling into his chair, feet resting on a small stool, Steve booted up the pc. He entered the discord call with Robin, shooting the shit as they each set up their own separate streams. Even though the stream was live, without the camera or microphone or even a game, just the “stream starting soon” screen, Steve clocked the rising number of viewers. Already at twenty thousand, and he wasn’t even doing anything . The chat at the side flew by, too fast to actually read any of the comments. He switched it to slow mode, booting up the game and finalising the behind the scenes stuff on his secondary monitor.

When it was finally time to turn on the camera, he didn’t say anything; just grinned at the screen for a bit. The viewership skyrocketed , and he heard Robin cackling maniacally in his ear. 

“Alright guys, good evening. How are you all tonight?” he said as he manoeuvred around the home screen of the game. His online ID was public, to a degree, but most people would recognise the nametag. 

As he chatted, half to Robin and half to his chat and the donations that were already coming in, he quietly levelled up his character - David King, who before the stream he had bought a shirtless cosmetic for. He heard when Robin noticed it; she choked on her drink, breaking into a violent cough to which she quickly muted herself. Steve could still hear her through the walls and he threw his head back with laughter.

“You good, Robs?” he asked innocently, though he knew he had a shiteating grin.

“Fuck you,” he heard her reply once she unmuted herself. “I never want to hear anything about me playing Meg ever again. You’ve objectified David!”

And then they were both laughing, again. They readied up, waiting for the lobby to fill. 

The first few games passed by relatively uneventfully - Robin and Steve were pretty good at the game by now, repairing generators and generally being able to evade the killer. 

“Oh, Mr Ghostface, no,” Robin was purring in his ear. “It would be a shame if you threw me over your shoulder, Ghostface. A huge shame.”

“He’s not your type,” Steve reminded her.

“Mr Ghostface might not be a mister. Besides, I can appreciate when someone is good looking, even if I’m not attracted to them.”

“He wears a mask! And massive billowing robes! There’s nothing to appreciate!”

After a few escapes and a loss later, Steve found himself playing against one of the newer killers in the game, Wesker. Having fucked up a quick time event, the Wesker had beelined for him and in a desperate attempted to not get murdered, Steve dropped his item and spun around in circles on the spot. 

“Don’t kill me don’t kill me don’t kill me,” he recited, spinning frantically. Wesker didn’t seem to notice, or if he did it was too late, because before Steve knew it he had been slammed against a wall.

“Oh,” he said as Wesker lifted Steve’s character over his shoulder, “That was quite hot, actually.”

“Steve!” Robin admonished, though he heard the smile through her voice. “Truly running with the LGBT, huh?” 

Running along with the gag, Steve decided not to try and escape from Wesker’s grasp. Wesker noticed, because he paused for a moment before putting him down on the ground. Bleeding out, but unable to get up from the ground, Steve could only wait for Robin to come heal him - which she did, obviously. 

Wesker stood there, staring at Steve as he got healed. When Robin had fully healed him she bolted, shouting “good luck!” to Steve as she went. 

“Nah, we’re friends now, it’s all good,” Steve soothed. “He won’t kill me.”

And he didn’t. Instead, Steve ran around the map with Wesker, throwing down pallets and letting Wesker hit generators to increase the points they both got for the game. It was a good trade, though technically against the spirit of the game. Steve enjoyed himself immensely though, fucking around with the Killer. For a game that had very little way of communication between survivors and killers, he and Wesker managed with some head nodding, shaking and classic teabagging. 

Whilst Steve had been fucking around, his three team mates had managed to actually complete the objectives and open the exit gate.

“I’m not waiting for you to keep flirting with Wesker,” Robin warned him. 

“But he’s hot ,” Steve crooned back. 

He heard Robin gag as she exited, the little symbol next to her name on screen showing she escaped the trial, leaving Steve as the last survivor in the game. 

Wesker slammed him into a wall again, forcing him to be carried on his shoulder. 

“Is he going to kill you?” Robin asked, sounding maybe a little too gleeful. Maybe Steve should have actually helped his teammates instead of messing around with the enemy. 

“No,” Steve realised, “He’s taking me to the Hatch!”

The Hatch - when you were the last survivor in the game - opened to allow you some semblance of a chance to survive. Friendly killers would also take you to it to get both of you some more points. 

Steve watched in anticipation, the endgame timer showing they only had maybe ten seconds left for him to escape before he was automatically killed when Wesker finally found the hatch. He set Steve down, a few metres away from the hatch. 

And slammed it shut.

There was a beat of silence, from both himself and Robin who was spectating him after escaping.

“WHAT?” Steve hissed, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Robin was roaring with laughter. 

“He fucking got you, dude,” she laughed. “Duped you real good, huh?”

Steve’s donations started jumping up, people paying money just to make sure their message laughing at his misfortune appeared on the screen. 

“This motherfucker!” Steve knew he sounded irrational, it was just a game and he supposed he was playing it up a little for comedic purposes, but he was genuinely shocked. “Why would he do that?”

“Some men just want to watch the world burn,” Robin said in a mocking voice as Steve’s character died. He silently watched his screen flick to the end game lobby, where all four survivors and killer could message.

Himbo: YOU ASSHOLE

Himbo: I TRUSTED YOU

Himbo: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

Bimbo: lmaooooo wesker well done he deserved that 

Zazzy: gg guys <3

Edward Spaghetward: it was funny

Edward Spaghetward: i’d say sorry but i’m not 

Edward Spaghetward: anyway gg guys good luck w the rest of your games 

Steve felt this sort of irrational rage rise up in him. Who was this asshole? 

The first thing Steve did was open up Edward Spaghetward’s steam page on his second monitor to stalk. Two hundred hours in Dead by Daylight alone… less than Steve, still, but a lot. A lot of cozy types of games; Stardew Valley, Potion Permit, Night in the Woods. And then he also had spent an alarming amount of time on RPGS, MMOs and multiplayer shooters. They had almost matching hours in Mass Effect.

Not that Steve could talk, not with his entire income now based on playing video games. His hours probably seemed insane to most people. 

“I’ve added him as a friend,” Robin said, suddenly. 

“ Why?!” Steve whined, betrayed. “Just stab me in the back, it would be kinder.”

“You’re such a drama queen Steve, honestly.”

And then, because Robin hated him , Steve heard the telltale beeping of a Discord notification. 

The little shit worked fast. She’d already gotten his Discord ID and made a group chat with the three of them. His username only said Eddie, usernames defaulting to just your name when added to a new group; his profile picture a drawing of a man with long, curly hair. 

Robin created the chat: naughty dead by daylight players go to discord hell 

Robin added: Eddie

Robin added: Steve

Robin: hi eddie

Eddie: Hi guys 

Eddie: Sorry for killing you 

(Steve changed Eddie’s nickname to Judas. )

Judas: Harsh but understandable

Robin: does this make you jesus steve 

Steve: i can’t believe you’ve done this to me

Judas: :( 

Judas: Not my fault you’re simply bad at the game. 

Steve: you’re dead to me

(Robin changed Steve’s nickname to little baby boy .)

(little baby boy changed Robin’s nickname to Ghostface Fucker )

(Ghostface Fucker changed little baby boy’s name to loser )

Judas: I’m going to mute this chat

Ghostface Fucker: harsh but understandable

Judas: Oh my god

“Hey Steve,” Robin said suddenly in his ear. “Stop flirting with Eddie, we are supposed to be streaming right now.”

And of course everyone heard that, his chat spamming with questions about who Eddie was, if Steve was single, if Steve was dating Eddie, if Eddie was the Edward Spaghetward from a few games ago. 

“Please stop asking about Eddie,” he said to them. “He is a stranger. I do not know him. And do not like, try and stalk him or find out who he is or whatever.”

“He’s just the poor soul who had the misfortune of playing with us,” Robin quipped. “That’s one way to end up with a lot of steam friend requests.”

Luckily, Steve and Robin were very careful with their discord chats. The call they used always had nicknames, so those nicknames showed in the top left hand side of the screen when they played games and lit up so people knew who was talking. Always using nicknames and never their actual ID’s kept it relatively private. Eddie was in a different channel, and not part of their call, so as long as he kept it on a separate monitor he would not be exposing Eddie to the combined horde of Robin and Steve’s followers. 

Steve pushed the thought of Eddie to the back of his mind, instead focusing on interacting with his chat. They eventually quit out of Dead by Daylight, instead opting for some terrible five dollar horror game about the Backrooms. 

When Robin screeched at a, quite frankly terrible and cheesy, jumpscare her shout scared Steve more than the actual game itself, causing him to knock over his - thankfully closed - water bottle. He swore, viciously, at her, taking his headset off to run a hand through his hair.

He glanced at himself in his monitor as he did so; his mullet of a haircut, usually perfectly tousled, was looking rather wild, ruined by the headset and his own hands. On his wrist was a leather bracelet dyed various hues of pink in the colours of the lesbian pride flag. He’d bought it at a convention, and Robin had thrown her arms around his shoulders and cried when he showed her it on his wrist. There were darker rings under his eyes than normal, but if anyone brought it up he would blame it on the ring light. He still looked good, though. Like himself. Not in a bigheaded way, but Steve did know that he was attractive. He knew , because although he’d never had a relationship work out, he had no shortage of people who wanted to take him to bed. He might be unlovable, but at least he wasn’t unattractive. 

He wondered if Eddie was watching. Then frowned, wondering why he had wondered that in the first place.

Fuck Eddie. The guy had done nothing but aggravate Steve all night and draw his attention away from the stream. 

Still, whilst they had been playing, he had heard a few beeps of discord notifications. His eyes would drift to the side, tempted to stop paying attention to the game to see what snarky reply Eddie had come up with. But he controlled himself, 

The cheerful music that signalled Steve had received a donation could be heard from his headset, even though he’d taken it off. God, he’d really been hit on the head a few too many times growing up because his hearing was terrible .

SzArcity donated $45!

You guys should get heart rate monitors for when you next play horror games! 

Steve placed his headset back on, Robin rambling away to her own chat in his ears, as he nodded at the comment.

“Thanks for the donation… Scar-city? Zarcity? Anyway, thanks! What d’you think, Robs?” Steve asked, correcting his water bottle to a standing position again. 

“Uh - what? Sorry, I straight up wasn’t listening to you.”

Steve laughed, “That we should get heart rate monitors hooked up to the stream so people can see when we’re scared.”

“Oh!” Robin exclaimed, and Steve winced at the volume of it, “That’s amazing! We have to do it, Steve, that would be hilarious! ”

“Fuck, alright, I’ll buy some after the stream,” he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, knowing he would do anything for Robin no matter how loud or obnoxious she was being. She knew that, too, and took full advantage of it.

“You can buy us that air fryer we wanted, too, from my amazon wishlist!”

“Fuck you,” Steve laughed back at her.

“What? It’s for you too! Really, it’s in your own best interest to buy it.” 

And so they continued, finally ending the stream only once Steve’s eyes burned from looking at the screen and his cheeks hurt from laughter. 

That night, he watched a Tik Tok with theories on who Eddie was. His heart sank, a little, knowing that nothing he ever did was truly just for him.

*

Eddie was a strange one, Steve often thought to himself. 

Since Robin had added him to a chat, they hadn’t had much of a conversation after the initial one during the stream - which Steve hadn’t quite devoted his whole attention to. 

He found himself trying to think of an excuse, of something to post in that chat instead of his other chats with friends. Something to draw Eddie back into conversation. He wanted to argue with Eddie again, but just couldn’t think of what to say. 

He knew if he posted anything in that chat instead of his main one with friends that Robin would zero in on him immediately, but-

He didn’t like Eddie. He was a bit of an asshole and kind of annoying. He didn’t know what he looked like. They’d had one conversation. 

Steve was intrigued, that’s all. It’s not often he’s outplayed.

In the end, Robin was the one who started a conversation, bringing Eddie back into his life. Somewhere in the past few days, someone had changed all of their names back to what they originally were - thank god, because Steve was struggling to keep up. 

naughty dead by daylight players go to discord hell 

Robin: so eddie 

Robin: eds

Robin: eddie 

Robin: i don’t know your last name so 

Eddie: what 

Eddie: i’m working these notifications are a lot

Robin: i thought you were going to mute this chat

Robin: and youre answering very quickly for someone who is at work

Eddie: ok i lied

Eddie: i didnt mute it and im not at work

Robin: WHY

Eddie: idk its fun to just lie sometimes

Robin: fair

Robin: anyway, our friend is a sims streamer and she’s making us all live in a house and has some mod that makes one of us a serial killer and shes going to see who lives the longest

Eddie: oh dope like battle royal 

Robin: yeah! Anyway do you wanna be a part of it

Robin: Steve I know you’re reading this chat. 

Steve: whoa whats with the punctuation

Steve: am i in trounle

Steve: trouble*

Eddie: trounle

Robin: trounle

Steve: i am going to fight you eddie 

Robin: what about me :(

Steve: having to live with me is punishment enough

Robin: yeah :/

Eddie: lmaooo you wouldnt beat me in a fight

Steve: i would????

Robin: no eddies right you’ve literally lost every fight youve ever been in

Steve: that makes me sound like ive been in so many fights 

Steve: i’ve been in two

Robin: most people have been in none fights 

Robin: eddie how many fights have you been in

Eddie: more than two 

Steve: SEE

Robin: are you LYING again eddie

Eddie: yeah 

Eddie: ive never been in a fight wtf is wrong with you steve

Steve: :/

Eddie: anyway yh ill join the sims thing it sounds so stupid im in 

*

Robin added Eddie to the chat: sims players don’t have rights

Nancy: welcome

Jonathan: welcome

Argyle: welcome 

Robin: welcome

Steve: wow make it sound a little less culty please 

Steve: can you guys act normal for once in your life

Steve: on my hands and knees begging 

Nancy: but then we couldn’t embarrass you in front of eddie

Eddie: why would he be embarrassed

Steve: idk what shes talking about 

Steve: suddenly i cant read 

Nancy: hmm

Steve: ANYWAY this is the first im hearing about this sims thing

Steve: whys robin finding out before me HMM are you guys having secret chats without me

Robin: shut up steve no were not 

Steve: your DMs are FLOODED with messages from nancy where you guys make plans without me huh??

Robin: steves got dumb bitch disease

Argyle: we all do brother 

Jonathan: steve 🤝 argyle, sharing a brain cell

Steve: im leaving this chat 

*

Nancy

Nancy: So since when have you had a crush on Eddie?

Steve: i’m going to throw myself in the quarry

Steve: i literally hate all of you

Steve: I DONT HAVE A CRUSH ON EDDIE

Nancy: He doth protest too much :-/ 

Steve: stop putting noses in your emojis

Nancy: Never

Steve: anyway I’ve had ONE conversation with him over discord messages

Steve: idk what he even looks like 

Steve: so no i dont have a crush on him

Nancy: Omfg you do

Steve: its quite literally impossible for me to have a crush on someone ive never met nance

Steve: like what am i crushing on. His texting style?

Nancy: Yes

Nancy: We all know what you’re like

Nancy: You’ve probably already planned out your entire future together

Steve: im blocking you 

Nancy: No, you’re not. Or poor Sim-Steve will be the first to go :-( 

Steve: youre the worst person ive ever met and i hate you 

Nancy: :-)

Nancy: Hold on

Nancy: Nancy Drew mode ACTIVATED

*

sims players don’t have rights

Nancy: Oh Eddie I’m going to need a picture of you 

Nancy: Idk what you look like to make you as a sim

Eddie: oh

Eddie: i didn’t think of that

Eddie: i know what most of you all look like i forgot you guys dont know me lol 

Steve: most of us?

Eddie: well i looked you guys up once robin said nancy streams sims lol

Steve: oh

Steve: right

Eddie: yeah

Eddie: so you and robin and nance ive seen and jonathan has a pic of (im guessing?) himself as his pfp

Jonathan: ya thats me 

Eddie: lookin good buddy

Jonathan: thanks!! B)

Argyle: bark bark

Nancy: why are you barking

Argyle: asserting my dominance 

Jonathan: love you argyle  <3

Argyle: :) <3

Steve: n e way

Eddie: yeah so since Argyle has a picture of a frog as his php, hes the only one idk what he looks like

Eddie: so i guess its fair to swap pics

Nancy: Yay thank you :-) 

Argyle sent a picture to the chat. 

Jonathan: a beautiful picture of a beautiful boy

Nancy: Eddie, it’s been twenty minutes now

Eddie: IM LOOKING FOR A GOOD PIC

Nancy: It doesn’t have to be a good pic!! Just any pic

Eddie: ok but dont take it weird but yall are like crazy hot so im feeling a bit anxious lmao 

Steve: no were not 

Robin: dont even say it

Steve: robins hot sure but she sleeps with her mouth open and one time i saw a fly go in 

Robin: i actually hate you?

Eddie sent a picture to the chat.

Steve: Oh

Steve: brb

Eddie: oh ok

Nancy: Holy shit Eddie

Robin: Very COOL lookin eddie

Robin replied to :ok but dont take it weird but yall are like crazy hot so im feeling a bit anxious lmao 

SAYS THIS GUY!!

Robin: you look like you should be in greta van fleet

Eddie: idk if thats a compliment

Robin: im Gay(™) but even i can say theyre hot 

Argyle: BRO yes what a face reveal 

Jonathan: dream is screaming crying throwing up bc his face reveal has nothing on eddies

Eddie: im blushing stop it

Nancy: Never :-)

*

Nancy

Nancy: (Hacker voice) I’m in

Nancy: You’re welcome

Steve: I Actually Cannot Handle This Rn 

Steve: hes HOT

Nancy: Yeah, he is

Nancy: Now what are you going to do

Steve: just never talk in the chat again i suppose

Nancy: Well, you’re not going to do that 

Steve: it was one thing when he was just a stranger online but now i know what he LOOKS LIKE

Steve: I’m dying here

Steve: brb

Nancy: You can’t hide, Steve

*

Three Musketeers

Nancy: God I forget about the name of this chat every time until I open it

Nancy: There’s FOUR of them

Robin: ok 

Robin: still not changing the chat name 

Nancy: Anyway I’m here to shame Steve

Nancy: What is he doing right now

Robin: he has made a blanket cocoon and buried himself in it

Robin: i cant see his head

Robin: he wont let me in 

Nancy: I know you’re reading this Steve

Nancy: You have to answer for your crimes

Steve: crimes?????

Nancy: yeah youre being biphobic

Steve: how the fuck am i being biphobic

Nancy: I’m bi and you’re annoying me 

Steve: thats not -

Steve: ok whatever 

Nancy: Robin please

*

“Steve,” Robin admonished from where she sat on his bed, pulling at Steve’s nest of blankets. 

“Robin,” Steve mocked back, firmly holding the pillow over his head.

“Get out of the blankets.”

“Why?”

“Eddie is definitely offended that all you said was “oh” and then left.”

“He’s hot , Robin,” Steve whined, and he knew he sounded like a petulant child, but right now he didn’t care. 

“And?”

“And nothing, I suppose,” Steve said, emerging from his mountain. He kept the blanket wrapped around his head and shoulders, only his face showing. 

“Don’t you have a date on Thursday, anyway?” She asked, tucking a strand of Steve’s hair back under the blanket.

“Ugh,” Steve groaned. 

*

Robin’s eyes looked especially bright as the two of them sat in a chic, new cafe that had opened up near their apartment. It was clearly set up to go viral on instagram for its decorations - a wall covered entirely with ivy, flowers hanging from the ceiling above them. It was cute, Steve thought, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how many spider webs would form up there. Robin’s eyes creased as she grinned at him over her coffee, which had an extreme mixture of different flavourings and creams. 

“So,” she hummed, looking over at Steve intently. He’d been counting her freckles pretty intently and jumped at her sudden voice. “Did you buy the heart rate monitor?”

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, mom. I bought the heart rate monitors. They’ll be here next week.”

“Excellent,” Robin crooned, looking perhaps a little too excited for what is, essentially, medical equipment. She started rambling about what games they could play, how their followers would just love it. Steve nodded, only half listening. He knew he would agree to whatever she said, anyway. 

“You know,” Steve smiled back at her, stirring more cinnamon into his chai, “the barista has been staring at you for, like, five minutes straight now.”

“The blonde one?” Robin asked, her face falling into a perfect impression of a deer in the headlights. 

“Yes, the one who winked at you when she gave you your coffee,” Steve reached out to push up on Robin’s chin, forcing her to lose her slack jawed expression. “ Don’t turn around now. Robin-“

But it was too late. Robin’s head swung around, at a speed where Steve was worried she’d get whiplash. And then, once she made eye contact with the barista, she spun back around, burying her red face in her coffee cup. 

Steve was trying to hold back the laughter, but Robin only groaned, burying her face in her hands. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Steve,” she said, dragging her hands down her cheeks in a way that pulled her lower eyelids down. She was being very dramatic.

“Do what? You’re being a little dramatic,” Steve said, because he was kind and a good friend and didn’t need to wind Robin up more than she already was.

“You’re just so good at it all!”

“It all?” Steve raised one brow. Robin jerked her head at him sardonically, then tried to mimic him by raising her own brow and failing.

“See!”

“No,” Steve laughed, “I don’t.”

“ All of it. You’re not afraid to flirt with someone, even if they end up turning you down. You’re so - effortless!”

“We live together Robs. You’ve literally seen me get ready after a shower - this ,” he waved a hand over himself, “is far from effortless. Besides, you’re incredible. You just need to be more confident.”

She rolled her eyes, tilting her head back with a sigh. 

“I’m serious, Robin! You’re a catch. I know your DMs are filled .”

“Yeah, but that’s because of the streaming thing. Like. Money and fame and all that. They don’t like me for me .”

“One day, Robin, you’re going to meet someone and eat your own words.”

“It’s just - it’s not the same, with girls. Like, to tell, I guess. Girls always want to hold hands and cuddle and paint each other's nails. Doesn’t mean they like me.”

“ Have you been holding hands and painting nails and cuddling with a girl and I haven’t heard about it?”

Her face turned scarlet, “No.”

Steve’s jaw dropped and he pointed at her, accusingly. “You have! ” he hissed in delight, leaning in conspiratorially. “Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you. I mean - no one! It’s nothing. She’s not into me and nothing can happen from it, anyway.”

“Is… she straight?”

“No,” Robin sighed unhappily, using her finger to scoop some of the foam from her coffee and plop the foam in her mouth. She spoke around her finger, “But just because she’s not straight doesn’t mean that she automatically likes me.”

“Do I know her?” Steve asked, genuinely curious. It wasn’t like Robin to clam up like this, at least to him. He’d heard in excruciating detail how Tammy Thompson’s hair looked like it had been woven by biblical angels, which Steve didn’t really understand but he went along with it. For Robin to not be ranting about how hopeless her chances were constantly to Steve, there must be a reason she wouldn’t tell him. An important one.

She froze up, looking carefully into the middle distance. Steve tilted over, forcing himself to be in her direct line of sight, raising both brows expectantly. 

“Just - forget it,” she begged, her brows downturned in a way that made Steve’s heart ache for her. “Please? For me? Just drop it.” 

“Alright,” he agreed smoothly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Consider it dropped. But you do know you can talk to me about anything , right?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, sadly, “Just not this one.”

Steve tried to ignore the way his stomach turned at that.

*

Later, a picture appeared on twitter of Steve holding Robin’s hand at the restaurant. And, as always, the internet blew up again . 

If Steve had to read one more twitter thread about how Steve and Robin should stop hiding their relationship - because their fans would always support them, no matter what - then Steve was going to delete his entire account. It got so bad that Robin had to tweet - again - that she was, in fact, a lesbian, so please stop telling her she is in a secret relationship with her best friend.

He thought of the times he had leaned on Robin - the first time they had gotten so high they had forgotten how to chew and couldn’t eat the pizza they’d ordered, when they’d whispered to each other but Tammy Thompson is a girl and then a quiet, in a voice that still hurt Steve to think about: Steve. And Steve had got it, then, had opened up about his failed relationships. How much it hurt when Nancy had admitted she never loved him. How everyone else had just wanted him for his looks or his family money. No one had ever thought that just Steve was enough. That they’d want to be with him, no matter what shit he had going on in his life. That he was worth the hassle. 

No one, that was, until Robin. And although it was platonic, he truly thought she might be his soulmate. His other side of the coin. She understood all of this weird, niche, internet fame bullshit he had to put up with, and decided that she still wanted to be a part of his life.

Steve’s job was great. He loved it, he loved his life. But as he scrolled through tweets arguing about him and dissecting every part of his life he had put online, he thought that maybe it would be nice to be a nobody.

*

Robin: I’ve had Eddie for a day and a half but if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this chat and then myself

Jonathan: what a mood

Nancy: He’s my best friend. He’s my pal.

Argyle: my homeboy my rotten soldier

Robin: my sweet cheese

Steve: my good time boy

Eddie: you’re people of culture i see 

*

Steve’s date was awful. 

The girl - Clara, her name - was undeniably beautiful. Her hair was so light it was closer to white than blonde. Natural, too - her dating profile had joked that she was a Targaryen.

She was funny, too, and her eyes scrunched when she laughed in a way that reminded him of Robin. Her outfit was cute in a way that was trendy - plaid skirt, white blouse and a sweater vest. Gold jewellery hung around her neck and from her ears. In another life, Steve thought he might have proposed to her on the spot. But all he could think of was curly brunette hair and big brown doe eyes. 

The food at the sushi restaurant they found themselves at was maybe the best sushi Steve had ever tasted. So why did it taste like ash in his mouth?

At the end of the night, as Steve stood outside of her brownstone apartment, her hand trailing down his chest, she’d stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, her breath warm against his skin, “ I’m not really looking for a relationship right now, you know? But you can come inside if you want.”

Steve had waited until she had closed the apartment door behind her and walked himself home.

*

sims players don’t have rights

Eddie: do any of you guys play overwatch?

Eddie: 👀

Jonno: Mayhaps

Jonno: are you thinking what im thinking

Eddie: i think i might be thinking what you are thinking

Jonno: @steve you IN?

Steve: fuck yeah

*

Jonathan created the chat: overwatch trios

Jonathan: lets do this

Jonathan: i’ll hop in the vc now

Eddie: give me a sec i’ll grab water then hop on 

Steve froze, his hands hovering over the keyboard. He realised, as he stared down at them, that they were shaking a little bit. This was so stupid , he thought to himself. Get it together - you’re Steve Harrington. Your DMs are filled with people trying to shoot their shot with you. You’re a smooth talker, a lady killer and all that. If you want something, you don’t overthink it. You just take it. 

Anyway, it’s not like he wanted Eddie. Yes, sure, he was very attractive. But-

It was just nice having a male friend close to his own age. 

There was always Jonathan and Argyle, but they mostly kept to themselves. Steve had thought, once, that maybe he would become close with Jonathan but the friendship never quite developed the way he hoped. And then he’d met Robin, anyway, who was everything he ever needed in a platonic life partner that he stopped aching for friendship. 

It’s not like he and Jonathan weren’t friends - they absolutely were. Just not the type where Jonathan would reach out to him if he were in trouble. Or one that Steve could call at 1am to talk himself down out of a spiral. He could, he supposed - Jonathan would never turn him away, he knew that. But he would always feel like he was imposing, just a little. Would never forget the sting of the cuts caused by Jonathan’s fists all those years ago, now, though deserved they had been. 

Argyle had been really good for him, letting Jonathan loosen up in a way that Steve had never seen before throughout high school. Contentment looked good on him. 

It felt good that Jonathan had singled out Steve to play - and a bonus that Eddie would be there too. 

Steve entered the voice chat.

“Hey, man,” Jonathan said smoothly.

“Hey,” Steve replied, much less smoothly. 

“You good?” Jonathan huffed out a laugh.

“Been better,” Steve said, truthfully, “I honestly cannot be accountable for the things I say or do at the moment.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan mused, “Been there before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he laughed, just as the telltale beep of someone joining the chat sounded.

Steve could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat. What was this? Had Steve secretly been abducted by aliens? Or been replaced by some faerie changeling? This wasn’t like him.

“Hey Eddie,” Steve croaked out. Pathetically, his voice broke on the first syllable. 

“Hi Eddie,” Jonathan said. So easily. His voice didn’t even break. He sounded so effortless and cool.

If Eddie noticed, he didn’t mention it. “Hey guys, so - first thing’s first. So sorry for when I cause us to lose all of our games. I enjoy Overwatch, doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.”

“No stress, man, it’s just a game.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve cleared his throat, stunned by the sound of Eddie’s voice. “I always play to win.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s voice sounded like music. He spoke in a lilting sort of sing-song voice that sounded like he was in on some joke that Steve didn’t know about. “Because you definitely lost against me when you were streaming.”

“I- alright- Well, fuck you, man,” Steve groaned. “You tricked me.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Jonathan said sagely, “Especially love.”

“Who said anything about love?” Steve responded, a little sharply and probably too quickly. “This is all out World War Three right now.”

There was a beat of silence from Eddie, and then: “Alright. Uh - sorry, man. Didn’t mean to actually offend you. Just playing the game.”

Steve could have buried his nails into his cheeks in frustration. How do you explain that you can’t stop thinking about a stranger and it’s driving you to the brink of insanity because your so-called friends think that it’s funny . Eddie probably was uncomfortable with how often they all insinuated it. 

“How do you feel about gay people?” Steve asked, suddenly. 

Jonathan choked on his drink.

“Um,” Eddie sounded stunned. “They’re alright, I suppose. Really annoying. Trying too hard and all that.”

“Oh,” Steve said, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice because what do you even say to that?

“I mean, I am gay, and I know I’m annoying. I’m mostly talking about myself, to be honest,” Eddie said, his voice just the tiniest bit shaky, “Sorry, I’m rambling, I do that. Kinda left field, Stevey, that question. I’m trying to say sorry for playing a game and all of a sudden I’m being interrogated on the gays.”

Stevey. In his head he repeated it, over and over again. Stevey . Stevey.

“You say ‘the gays’ as if it should be capitol T capitol G and a trade mark at the end,” Jonathan’s grin could be heard down the line. Steve just knew that fucker was smiling like the Cheshire fucking Cat, because his friends just loved to see him fail. 

“The Gays(™),” Eddie replied, enunciating it in a way that confirmed what Jonathan had said.

“I like men,” Steve butted in, totally interrupting their conversation in a totally natural and not at all weird way. Inside his head was a symphony of alarm bells telling him to shut the fuck up but they clearly didn’t work, because the words continued to pour out of his mouth in a stream of embarrassment, “I mean- I like girls, too. You know. Both.”

“...Okay,” Eddie replied after a beat, talking slowly as if he was talking to a child who had just asked him to watch the cool trick they could do. 

“I’m bisexual,” Steve clarified.

“Yeah- I- Yeah, I got that, Steve,” Eddie laughed, but not in a way that sounded mean hearted.

“Glad we got that out of the way,” Jonathan said, taking away the metaphorical shovel and saving Steve from the hole he had been digging himself into.

“I’m going to stop talking now,” Steve said, clenching his eyes shut in embarrassment. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton as he stumbled through his words.

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed, “But, probably for the best anyway. We’re all queer, Eddie, so it wouldn’t have worked out it you weren’t cool with it.”

“What wouldn’t have worked out?”

“The friendship,” Jonathan said, slowly, like Eddie was the idiot now.

Another beat of silence, then, in a stunned voice, “Oh. We’re friends?”

Steve frowned, “Well, obviously. This train is a one way ticket to friendship, and there’s no stops along the way. Once you’re in, you’re in.”

“And you told us to sound less culty, Steve,” Jonathan admonished.

“You good, Eds?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, softly and a little breathlessly. 

Even though there was no one around to witness it, Steve smiled so hard he worried his face might split open. 

*

In the end, it was Argyle who survived the longest in Nancy’s awful Sims serial killer house.

She’d made herself the serial killer and turned on full autonomy for the sims, essentially turning the stream into a movie as she no longer had much control over them. 

Their whole group - which Eddie had seamlessly fitted into - was on a discord call being streamed out over it, making commentary and making quick jibes towards each other.

Steve died first, and when Sim-Nancy pulled out an axe and started hacking, Steve wondered if she had done it on purpose. She vehemently denied it, sickly sweet and innocent, but he knew her. She was sneaky. She absolutely could have planned this. 

When Eddie died next, they teamed up, shouting words of encouragement towards Sim-Nancy to take out Jonathan next, much to Jonathan’s chagrin.

After the stream, Eddie’s follower count started rising. 

*

sims players don’t have rights

Robin: steve’s been watching gilmore girls for four and a half hours

Steve: shut UP robin 

Eddie: are you a lorelai or a rory

Steve: stop this

Nancy: He’s obviously a Luke. Robin is Lorelai. 

Robin: ok rory 

nancy: what the fuck 

nancy: don’t turn this back on me LORELAI

robin: anyway can y’all publicly shame steve now

steve: stop it

steve: i don’t even like gilmore girls

robin: he could at least have the decency to skip the intro

robin: if i have to hear “if you’re out on the road” one more time i’m going to commit a crime 

steve: this is biphobia in action 

nancy: no steve’s right actually we bisexuals do love gilmore girls

robin: et tu, brute?

*

“WHAT’S UP GUYS, IT’S ME, DUSTIN,” Dustin spoke to his phone, speaking far too loudly for Steve’s pounding head. 

This was the last time he let Robin choose the movie for movie night. It was supposed to have been a quiet evening, but quickly descended into a movie marathon of all five Twilight movies and a drinking game to go along with it. 

Steve and Robin had made their sofa into their movie-nest, filled with pillows and blankets and pulling out the underside so that the L-shaped sofa essentially became a large soft rectangle. The bottle of Jose Cuervo was still on the table and if Steve moved a certain way, the smell of tequila would waft towards him and he had to hold back the gag. 

“Please, Dustin,” Robin begged. Her arms covered her face, hair sticking out wildly on the cushions. “Don’t be live on Tik Tok right now. I’m begging you.”

“Too late,” Dustin grinned, “This is your punishment for sinning.”

“ Sinning? ” Steve grumbled, pushing himself onto a sitting position. Which was a mistake, because the world spun dangerously and he had to hold his head with both hands to try to steady himself. 

“Yeah, you drank without me,” Dustin said, simply, tapping on his phone screen twice. Steve groaned, because he knew that little shit had just flipped the camera to face him and Robin. 

“We drank without you because you’re underage and that’s illegal ,” Steve explained, slowly, looking up at Dustin through his eyebrows. Dustin had the decency to wince a little at Steve’s glare.

“I need coffee. And donuts. And a breakfast burrito,” Robin grumbled from the blankets.

“I’m in university now, Steve,” Dustin reminded him, as if Steve wasn’t violently aware of the passing of time. “I’m basically old enough to drink.”

“Not according to the law.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I drink supervised by you guys than at some random frat party?”

Steve scoffed. “One - you would never step foot inside a frat party. Two - no, I would not. And if I did , I wouldn’t be admitting it whilst you stream live to thousands of people!”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but settled at their kitchen island, talking to his followers and essentially ignoring Steve and Robin’s existence again. 

“Steve,” Robin jabbed her toe viciously into Steve’s side. He winced. “I need food, Steve. Something greasy and awful.”

“Please don’t poke me like that or I will throw up on the blankets, and then on you.”

“ Please ,” She whined, her bottom lip pushing out in the most pathetic pout Steve had ever seen. 

Wordlessly, Steve handed her his phone. “Just Uber Eats something. Anything. I don’t care.”

“Order enough for us six, too!” Dustin called over.

“Six?!” Steve frowned.

“Yeah, we’re finishing our D&D campaign today. Remember?”

Steve didn’t, in fact, remember but he didn’t voice that out loud. Instead, he sighed, and told Robin to add six more breakfast burritos to the order. 

*

Mike started to look alarmingly more and more like Nancy each day as he grew. He also hated Steve’s guts.

Steve wasn’t one hundred percent sure on that last part, but he could work it out from context clues. He just didn’t know what, exactly, he had done to offend him. It could have been that Steve had had the audacity to date his older sister, even though she’d broken up with him years ago now. Or that Dustin liked him so much. Or it could just be that he had assumed the role of authority figure for most of the Party (as Dustin demanded he call them.) 

The kid in question sat behind his DM screen, glaring at Steve over the top of it. Steve screwed his face up at him in a way that was definitely not mature.

As the kids settled around the dining table, Steve tried to pay attention from where he sat on top of the kitchen island, feet planted in the chair. He really tried. But D&D was their thing, not his. He just liked seeing them happy and excited.

And so, he decided to try something incredibly brave. He messaged Eddie. 

Eddie

Steve: im begging you to save me rn 

Eddie: from what

Eddie: im working 

Steve: is that a lie 

Eddie: yeah

Eddie: whats up 

Steve: so i have like. a group of kids i like babysat when i was younger

Steve: including nancy and jonnos little brothers

Steve: anyway theyre like my kids now anyway and theyve taken over my living room

Eddie: lmaoooo

Eddie: oh no what a shame you have people who want to hang out with you :/

Steve: they DONT want to hang out with me theyre just USING me for my dining table 

Steve: and my uber eats account. Bleeding me dry here

Steve: youll never use me for my dining table, right eds?

Eddie: that depends. What kind of wood is it made from

Steve: idk its brown 

Eddie: then i cant make any promises

Steve: anyway what are you up to

Eddie: um

Eddie: meeting a client

Steve: so you ARE working

Steve: what do you do

Eddie: hm.

Eddie: i run my own business

Steve: whoa!! Thats so cool!! What kinda stuff do you sell

Eddie: not as cool as being a twitch streamer

Steve: why do i feel like youre being sarcastic

Eddie: because i am, sweetie :-)

Steve’s heart stuttered at the pet name. He knew Eddie was probably just making fun of him. But, still -

Steve: sweetie, huh?

Eddie: shut up 

Steve: i dont think i will  :) 

Eddie: anyway why are there children at your house

Steve: idk theyre playing d&d

Eddie: oh shit i LOVE d&d

Eddie: i used to run the d&d club at my high school lmao 

Steve: these kids would literally be obsessed with you and im not even kidding 

Eddie: you flatter me, sweetie

Steve: anyway stop avoiding the question what do u do for work

Steve: im CURIOUS about you 

Steve: mr mysterious

Eddie: look i gtg ill speak to you later 

*

The heart rate monitor turned out to be more of a strap for his chest rather than the wires and medical equipment he had been imagining. He’d actually been rather worried, knowing Robin was far too keen to use the stickers for a heart rate monitor above his heart to wax his chest. And god knew that Steve had enough hair on his chest to fear it getting ripped off. 

It was relatively simple to set up, adding a little box underneath his facecam showing the steady beat of his pulse and the number showing his heart rate. He’d looked at Robin’s, too, made sure they were set up properly by jumping out at her when she didn’t know he was there. As it should, her heart rate spiked and it showed on the screen. 

By the time Steve started the stream, he’d amassed tens of thousands of viewers. He watched the number rise, desensitised to the insanity of it all by now. 

On his screen was a co-op horror game - Phasmophobia. You work as a team to discover what ghost is haunting a house without getting killed first. They’d played it a lot before, so they knew what they were doing.

“Happy Halloween guys!” Robin said.

“It’s September ,” Steve reminded her, again.

“And?”

“Whatever,” he laughed it off with a shake of his head.

He watched his chat zoom by, far too many messages to be able to read them. He had a team of moderators to try and keep it in check - hopefully they were doing their job.

The two of them played the game - relatively uneventful for the first five minutes or so. They found the ghost room in the house, set up cameras and other ghost-detecting equipment and hightailed it back to the van to watch. Steve’s heart rate had sat pretty steadily close to what it usually would. Robin’s, too, was fine - perhaps a little bit faster in general as she tended to work herself up over horror things. 

And then, when they went back to the ghost room they experienced a ghost event. The lights in the room all turned red, suddenly, as well as a loud noise and flashing of their flashlights in the game. Steve swore, his heart rate jumping from steady in the mid seventies to over one hundred - just for a few seconds. Robin, far more dramatic, made unintelligible noises.

And then - as suddenly as it began - the ghost event ended. Steve let out a sigh of relief, his heart rate finally settling down again.

Their chats loved it, leaving hysterical comments and donations jumped. Steve couldn’t help but grin a little at how people would pay just to watch him fuck around with his best friend. He fiddles with the leather bracelet around his wrist, purely out of habit. 

When everything had slowed down and they started up a new game - within the five minute grace period where the game promised they would not get a jumpscare, Steve received a message.

Eddie: i wished we lived near each other

Eddie: i really want to see you in person

Steve’s heart skipped a beat, the traitor it was. 

His eyes were clearly looking at his secondary screen - something everyone picked up on immediately when his heart rate soared into the nineties, considering there was absolutely nothing going on in the game.

He swallowed, forcing his gaze to the game and not his conversation with Eddie.

They’d been messaging each other quite frequently, once Steve had started a private conversation. He knew he shouldn’t, because now he knew what Eddie looked like and sounded like it was very hard to keep everything platonic. Especially late at night when Steve was alone. 

But, no. He’d ruined it now. Once you jerk off to your internet friend, there’s no going back. 

As soon as the grace period ingame ended, the ghost immediately started to hunt - almost instantly killing Steve. 

“Holy shit,” he swore, clenching his eyes shut. He heard the rapid beeping indicating his heart rate had risen, again , and let out a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, Robs, that’s definitely a revenant, you can just mark that off and get the hell out of dodge. Fuck me, I hate this game.”

Afterwards, when he sat in bed scrolling aimlessly through Tik Tok, he realised he had never replied to Eddie. He opened that chat, staring at that fucking message. He stared as if it would change anything, as he thought of what to reply that wouldn’t make him sound like an absolute weirdo.

I want to meet you in person.

I want to kiss you and hide you inside the empty hole in my chest cavity because anything else will not be close enough for me.

I wished we lived near each other, too. Yes, that was totally normal for friends to say to each other. He didn’t actually know where Eddie lived - Steve bet it was somewhere cool like San Francisco, or Portland.

He realised he’d been staring at the message for so long without replying, when he suddenly noticed: Eddie is typing… 

Steve threw his phone across the room. He didn’t want Eddie to send a message and have it appear as read instantly because Steve couldn’t stop staring and imagining Eddie’s voice saying those words. It was bad enough he had heard him say Steve’s name. Stevey. 

God, Steve was down bad.

He hated when Nancy was right.

*

Overwatch trios

Steve: yall wanna play some tonight?

Eddie: sorry i cant 

Steve: whats more important than me eds </3

Eddie: my band is playing tonight

Steve: your WHAT

Jonathan: holy hsit 

Steve: hsit

Eddie: hsit 

Sim’s players don’t have rights 

Steve: GUYS DROP EVERYTHING

Steve: I HAVE INCREDIBLE NEWS

Nancy: Anyway, Robin, tell me more about that matcha ice cream

Robin: you didnt want to hear about the matcha ice cream earlier :/

Nancy:  No, I do, I swear

Robin: are you sure

Argyle: i dont like matcha ice cream

Robin: ok (1) youre wrong and (2) who asked you 

Jonathan: dont be rude to argyle also listen to steve 

Steve: my hero 

Nancy: Jonathan and Steve being friends might be the worst thing to happen to me 

Steve: we have a chat where we photoshop each others heads onto your head in the photos we each have with you nancy

Nancy: Do you actually?

Jonathan: no but we should defo start doing that

Nancy: I **** ***

Steve: whoa that could be literally anything 

Steve: i love you 

Steve: ???

Nancy: It means I hate men. 

Jonathan: oh ya that makes sense 

Steve: ANNUWWAY

Nancy: Steve please 

Steve: back to my news

Steve: SOMEONE has been quiet because theyve been keeping a SECRET

Robin: ...

Robin: okay what 

Nancy: No-one is keeping secrets from you, Steve

Steve: ok that sounds a little menacing and like YOU might be keeping a secret from me but i’m going to scoot over that right now and get to the real news

Eddie: steve please dont 

Steve: EDDIE HAS A BAND

Steve: and theyre playing……..

Steve: ………………. 

Steve: Drumroll

Nancy: I actually cannot stand you

Steve: TONIGHT

Jonathan: whoa thats so cool 

Eddie: thanks for pretending like you didn’t find out before steve decided to take twenty minutes to send the message

Jonathan: i got your back 

Nancy: What kind of music do you guys play?

Eddie: hmmmm like metal? I suppose. Classic rock except we’re terrible but its fun yknow 

Robin: Where?

Eddie: its a place called the Hideout 

Steve: lmao thats crazy we have a bar in our city called the Hideout!!! 

Nancy: …

Nancy: Where do you live, Eddie?

Eddie: oh uh 

Eddie: Hawkins, Indiana 

Steve: WH

Robin: what happened to Steve

Argyle: he got sniped before he could embarrass himself

Robin: babe wake up new hawkins resident just dropped

Robin: WE live in hawkins

Eddie: i-

Eddie: what???

Eddie: is this a joke cause its not funny

Eddie: dont get my hopes up like that its cruel 

Nancy: No, seriously. We live in Hawkins.

Eddie: holy shit

Eddie: whatre the chances 

Eddie: Hawkins is a city but like its not BIG

Nancy: Small world huh 

Argyle: we should come to your gig!!! 

Argyle: id love to meet you you seem like a cool dude 

Eddie: haha oh um

Eddie: sure i suppose

Jonathan: wow try and sound LESS excited to see us.

Jonathan: your friends. 

Argyle: youre my homeboy my rotten soldier :-(

Steve: im begging you all to stop putting noses in your emojis 

Robin: what time is your gig at 

Eddie: oh its in like an hour

Steve: AN HOUR??!?!?

*

Steve sat, on his bed, staring mindlessly at his phone as the messages kept coming in.

Eddie lived in Hawkins. Eddie lived in Hawkins and his friends wanted to go see him in less than an hour . Steve thought he was going to be sick. He needed to shower, to sort out his hair - that would take an hour alone. And then he would have to figure out what cologne combination smelled the best, or what kind of smell Eddie would like the best. And then , after that, he would have to decide on an outfit.

Oh god, what was he going to wear? 

Robin appeared, leaning against his door frame and looking in at him. She always did that - lounged everywhere, resting on the sides of sofas and sitting on countertops, leaning against doorways as if it was too much to hold up her own weight. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, with a shit eating grin that said she knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Spiralling,” he said, simply.

The Hideout was dingy, dark and smelled like sweat. 

Their small group definitely didn’t fit in with the crowd around them; a mix of spiked up hair, cut up denim and leather and a lot of chains and hanging jewellery. Nancy looked like she walked straight out of church, as always, her curly hair neat and prim - but she didn’t look uncomfortable at all. She sat delicately on a bar stool next to Robin, sipping on a vodka soda as they spoke quietly to each other. Robin, dressed in large cargo pants and a tight fitting top - which almost didn’t make the cut after Steve joked that she looked like Kim Possible and then had to duck her slipper as it came flying towards his face - was nursing some outlandish cocktail that Steve didn’t think a bartender in this kind of establishment would even make but Robin always had her ways.

It was a little weird, standing with Jonathan and Argyle, when a fan had come up to take a picture. It set Steve on edge, a little, reminded him of that constant surveillance he was under. Realised that, yeah, people would probably put two and two together if there were pictures of him attending a show whose lead guitarist was called Eddie. And there goes Eddie’s privacy.

Still - he didn’t know for sure that would happen. But since blowing up online, he always had his hackles up a little in public, always paranoid of doing something that would end up circulating Twitter that he would never live down. It was extremely tiring. He just wanted to hang out with his friends and watch a gig. 

Steve knew he was supposed to say that it was worth it - the invasion of privacy, the idea that he had given that up by becoming a public figure. He sometimes stops himself from stocking up on beer or wine in bulk in case someone sees and decides to spread that he has a drinking problem, twisting the truth in a way that would suit their own narrative. He knew he should be grateful to his fans for supporting him and his lifestyle and allowing him to succeed in the way he has, but -

He sighed, his eyes glancing at the way Jonathan’s hand slid easily into Argyle’s back pocket without a second thought to what anyone around them would say. No fear that people would see this and try to find out every single detail about Argyle. The girl - Emily, short with wild curly red hair and big blue eyes, round as saucers with a grin so strong it could power the electricity in the bar - bounced away happily to rejoin her friends.

When the lights dimmed, spotlights brightening up the small stage, Steve cast all of that from his mind. In fact, his mind practically emptied when Eddie walked onto the stage, his thoughts only of how he looked so much better in person. The crowd went wild, and Steve realised that Corroded Coffin were actually more popular than Eddie had let on.

Robin and Nancy were whooping and hollering from their spots at the bar, raising their glasses as they shouted, “Eddie!”

And Eddie, fine-tuning his guitar, looked up and beamed . He had a bandana wrapped around his head, jeans so tight they left very little to the imagination and a denim vest - with no shirt underneath. Steve was able to see the mappings of tattoos, but he couldn’t make them out from this distance. 

“A mosh pit!” Argyle gleefully slid out of Jonathan's arms and disappeared into the crowd, elbowing his way through. Jonathan, ever suffering but equally as high as his partner, silently followed him through the Argyle-shaped hole he had left in the ground 

Steve moved back, closer to where Robin and Nancy sat, and when Eddie caught his eye he grinned, using both hands as a makeshift megaphone and shouting, “Knock ‘em dead, Eds!”

Eddie’s grin faltered - only a little - suddenly looking nervous , bouncing on his toes to release the anxious energy. His cheeks and ears were blooming red now, but that could easily be blamed on the stage lights. 

The music was most definitely not Steve’s type, but he could appreciate how well Eddie was playing. He watched the way Eddie’s finger’s moved deftly along the strings and wondered what else those fingers could do. 

Afterwards, they had hung around the bar as the crowd started to filter out a little and Eddie appeared, hair sticking to his forehead, an almost apprehensive grin on his face.

Jonathan swept him into a hug and Eddie squeezed back, laughing as if he could barely believe it, but his eyes met Steve’s from the embrace and it was like white hot lightning had struck.

When Jonathan let Eddie go, Steve barreled forward, crushing Eddie into a bone splitting hug. He smelled a little sweaty, and a little bit like cigarette smoke, but also of those masculine body washes you would get. Steve wasn’t sure - pine, mahogany, cedar; something along those lines. It wasn’t necessarily that Eddie smelled nice , but Steve definitely liked how he smelled. Probably something feral inside him waiting to jump Eddie’s bones because of pheromones or something Steve hadn’t paid attention to in class. 

They moved on to a different bar - more like a pub, more intimate and the music was nice but quiet enough that they could actually hear each other talk. They piled into a booth, Steve’s thigh pressed tight against Eddie’s so that everyone could fit in. 

“First rule,” Steve muttered into Eddie’s ear, his heart pounding at the look Eddie was giving him. Like they were in kahoots about something the others didn’t know. “Never buy the first round, because some of these cheap bastards will leave early.”

Nancy snorted, offended and said, “I heard that.”

Eddie laughed and Steve’s head was soaring at the fact that he had made Eddie laugh and barked back at Nancy, “Yeah, you were meant to hear that. You’re the one who always leaves early before it’s your turn to buy a round.”

Her mouth dropped open at the accusation, then her lips pursed into a frown and she slid out of the booth and stormed straight up to the bar, ignoring the peel of laughter that followed her.

“That was a cheap shot,” Jonathan wiped tears from his eyes, trying to sober himself as he watched Nancy struggle with a tray of clear shots at the bar. “You knew she’d go first just to prove a point now.” 

Eddie was flirty in person. He leaned in close to Steve when he laughed, loose strands of his hair tickling Steve’s cheek, his thighs pressed tight against Steve’s in the small booth. Their group got progressively louder, singing along to the classics radio station the bar was playing, much to the bartender's annoyance.

During a particularly rowdy rendition of Living on a Prayer, Eddie stretched his arms high above his head, lifting up his shirt so high that Steve caught a glimpse of the pale strip of skin along his stomach and the trail of dark hair that snaked beneath his jeans. Then, he casually slung his arm around Steve’s shoulder, singing take my hand, we'll make it I swear, his breath ghosting the shell of Steve’s ear, sending a violent shudder through his entire body.

Steve leaned into the touch.

This clearly delighted Eddie, who only sang with more vigour, arm tight around Steve’s shoulder and swaying - a little aggressively, thanks to the alcohol they had all consumed now - from side to side, his beer raised in a toast that he never gave. 

He got along famously with Argyle, and when he wasn’t leaning into Steve’s personal space, Eddie’s head was ducked with Argyle as they spoke in low voices, occasionally broken up by loud, obnoxious laughter. 

Jonathan had slid in beside Steve on his other side, and watched the two try to make a tower out of the coasters the bar had - flimsy little squares advertising the different beers they had on tap. The tower collapsed pretty frequently. 

“I think,” Jonathan murmured with an annoyingly knowing look in his eye. “That we might have the same type.”

Steve blinked, then glanced at Nancy with her curly dark hair and then over at the Argyle and Eddie; long haired, brunette, easy to love. 

“God, we are so predictable,” Steve sighed, and Jonathan nodded along sagely. 

*

Steve was starting to regret introducing Eddie to the Party.

The kids were obsessed with him instantly, Dustin and Mike hanging on to every word Eddie said - and they weren’t even talking about D&D. They sat in Steve’s living room -  the six kids, Eddie, Robin and Steve - talking animatedly about Lord of the Rings, so Steve had zoned out almost immediately. He had been relegated to the floor, even though there was definitely enough space on the couch for all of them, his back against the sofe, arm pressed into Eddie’s leg. 

“Well, why didn’t they just let Tom Bombadil keep the ring if he was immune?” Dustin was nearly shouting, getting wound up in the way that he did when he got excited, his voice raising. Steve mindlessly pulled at the threads in the rug.

“ Because , idiot, he would have lost it! Or thrown it away, Gandalf said so,” Mike shouted back. Steve wasn’t sure how a discussion about something they both liked had turned so quickly into an argument. Not a real one, but one in the way that Mike and Dustin would get into; scream at each other and then two minutes later they had changed subject and all was forgiven.

“Well, if Gandalf said it, then it must be correct ,” Steve muttered, mostly under his breath but his voice carried enough for Dustin and Mike’s heads to whip around towards him. He refused to shrink under the weight of their glares. 

He couldn’t see Eddie, but could feel his silent laughter through the shaking of his leg. Steve thought Eddie might join in to their argument, but when he tilted his head back, Eddie was looking down at him, a soft smile on his lips and mischief in his eyes. 

They were supposed to be doing a “session zero” - whatever that was - for the D&D game they were planning to stream live. Mike, who had been the group’s resident DM, had practically frothed at the mouth when he realised he would get the chance to be a player. 

Mike might hate Steve, but he loved Eddie and Steve (well, Robin) was the reason Eddie was here now, so. Now Mike couldn’t hate Steve, but little Wheeler’s moods were untamable. 

Robin and Steve’s dining table had been set up with a large, sectional screen blocking off the head of the table. The screen went up to Eddie’s chest, and he kept stacks of paper, books and far too many sets of dice for one person behind it. Steve had rummaged around them, picking out the clear set, tiny skulls and moss inside the dice, the numbers painted on with a pretty gold. Eddie had handed him a dice with so many sides it was almost round and told him to throw it. 

When the dice landed with a 20 facing upwards, Eddie gave a loud cheer, and planted a wet kiss into Steve’s cheek since you must have some great luck there, Stevey and Steve pretended that his cheeks and ears didn’t burn red.

*

Of course, the internet also loved Eddie. Since their first stream, where the six kids - though not kids anymore, but always kids in Steve’s heart - introduced their characters and Eddie introduced the kids to the world he had created. The plot - loosely - seemed to be that they were cryptozoologists on the hunt for proof of the existence of a cryptid before other groups could.

Steve didn’t understand what it meant when Max said she was going to cast Hunger of Hadar in a radius that included the entire team, or why everyone groaned when everyone in their party rolled under 10 for their skill check.

He only raised an eyebrow as Eddie, clearly in his element, started describing in perhaps too much detail the milky tentacles that appeared, causing damage to the entire party. As he spoke of the soft whispering and wet slurping noises the tentacles were causing, he also dropped that the entire party was now blind , causing everyone to start pointing accusingly towards Max, who lifted her hands up in surrender but grinned in a way that said it was worth it.

Eddie’s follower count had rapidly risen to over one hundred thousand after the first session, and when Steve met him in a diner that frankly looked like it should be shut down for a health code violation, he looked troubled. 

He didn’t actually eat the burger and fries in front of him, instead persistently dipped the same fry into his ketchup container over and over again.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Steve asked through a mouthful of burger. 

Eddie’s phone was on the table between them, his twitter account lit up the screen. He looked at Steve, expectantly.

“What?” Steve asked, genuinely baffled. “Congratulations?”

“ No, ” Eddie grumbled, locking his phone and going back to dipping his fry. “I didn’t think people would actually, like, follow me.”

“Why not? You’re amazing! The kids worship you, man. Dustin said that you’re the best DM he’s ever heard!”

“Matt Mercer best be getting scared,” Eddie grinned reluctantly. “I dunno. I’m a pretty private person. Feels a little weird.”

Steve had to stop himself blurting out no you’re not because, when he thought about it, it was true. Eddie was like a poison dart frog - colourful, but as a distraction and safety mechanism, hiding what it could really do. Yes, Eddie was loud, and a showman, and very dramatic; but he was like that because that’s what he wanted people to see. If he made a big deal over small, stupid things, it’s because he was hiding his real feelings about something much more serious. 

“Still, I just - I’m really glad I got to meet you. You’re important to me,” Steve said, sincerely, and when Eddie’s baleful eyes locked on his, his breath stuttered as he continued, “I mean, too all of us, too. As a group. You fit in well. You were the missing puzzle piece. But - to me, too. You’re important to me.”

Eddie grinned at him, worries forgotten.

*

Nancy had come around for a movie night, had monopolised their Netflix account as well as Steve’s UberEats accounts - again - and had declared that they were going to watch some atrocious Netflix original rom-com movie that had a Rotten Tomatoes score of 17%.

“Do you know how much a movie has to suck to get that low on Rotten Tomatoes, Nancy?” Steve was complaining from the kitchen, where he was mixing up a large jug of pimm’s - again, per Nancy’s request, but Robin had started pulling puppy dog eyes on him until he agreed. He stood there, chopping up fruit, staring Nancy down even though he knew he would not win this stare-off. Eventually he sighed and dropped the fruit into the jug. 

They ordered far too much food, pizza boxes stacked on the coffee table whilst the three of them were buried in blankets on the couch. 

The movie was truly terrible, which Steve knew it was going to be. It was boring; the plot points predictable; and he could see the plot twist that was coming up a mile away. In fact, it was so boring that his eyes started to glaze over and he blinked, hard, just to refocus. 

And that’s when he noticed Robin holding Nancy’s hand. 

His stomach dropped down to his feet and he felt himself freeze up, though he was too far from the girls for them to notice. Nancy was stroking Robin’s thumb with her own, but they had it angled so that they didn’t think Steve would see it. 

A sour, twisted feeling settled in his gut and before he knew it he found himself standing. The girl's hands sprang apart in a way that looked practised and fast, and Steve stumbled over the blankets that had pooled at his feet towards his own room.

“Steve? Where are you going?” Robin was halfway to standing herself, her eyes wide and voice shaking. God, he hated that he had made her sound like that, but he just. Needed a minute. Needed some air. 

“I’m lactose intolerant,” he blurted, ignoring Robin’s incredulous stare at his flat out lie. They both knew that he was not lactose intolerant, but he doubled down anyway. “So much cheese on those pizzas, you know.” He held his stomach and pulled a face before hightailing it to his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

Inside his ensuite - with two closed doors now between himself and the girls - he sat on the floor, and processed. 

Robin and Nancy were dating. Robin was dating his ex, and that was why she had been avoidant when he asked who the girl was.

Nancy and he had come a long way from their break up. It had been years ago, they had both apologised and come to an uneasy truce which developed into genuine friendship. Now, they got on well . Actually, they got on better now than they had when they were dating, though it was closer to sibling dynamics. 

Still, in his lowest moments, the sting of bullshit feels just as fresh as it did in Tina’s upstairs bathroom.

He could not be held accountable for his own actions right now - his head was spinning. Steve could hear the dial tone ringing, finally noting that his phone was pressed against his ear. 

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice appeared; Steve had phoned Eddie. He hadn’t meant to. Or maybe he had, his subconscious knowing what he needed before he did.

“Can you come over to my apartment?” Steve asked, his knees pressed to his chest as he sat back against his bathroom door.

Eddie didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t ask why Steve was calling him, or why it was him he called. Instead, he just said, “I can be there in twenty minutes if the traffic is good.” 

Steve let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll see you then.”

He stayed on the floor for a few more minutes, just for posterity. He felt like he had vertigo, but he finally settled on one thing: he was happy for Robin and Nancy. He really was. 

A bit taken aback, for sure, but what had sent him running to the bathroom wasn’t who Robin had chosen to date, but the fact that she couldn’t tell him. He had made her hide her relationship; felt she couldn’t come to him about this. That was why his mouth tasted sour, why he felt like he genuinely might be sick. 

He finally gathered his courage and got up, splashing water on his face. He flushed an empty toilet for show - got to commit to the bit - and then actually washed his hands, just because.

When he got back to the living room, Robin and Nancy were a respectful distance apart, hands where Steve could see them. To his chagrin, they had paused the movie. 

“Stev-” Robin had started to talk, to blurt out apologies, but Steve help up his hand with a small smile. 

“Stop it, Robs. I’m happy for you guys,” Steve could see the anxiety in Robin deflate at that. “I mean, we’re gonna talk later about why you didn’t tell me, but I would never be upset at you guys for finding happiness together.” 

He felt a little bit like a parent giving his blessing for someone to date Robin. Nancy reached out to squeeze Robin’s hand. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Don’t thank me, I invited Eddie over. I refuse to be third wheel.” 

They rolled their eyes, and Nancy scoffed, “Great, now we have to deal with your will-they-won’t-they dance all night.” 

Steve grinned. “It’s going to be “they will”. I’m savouring the lead up. Some of us actually have patience.”

When Eddie showed up, already having the code to their building, they all settled on the couch. Nancy and Robin curled up together like pillbugs, basking in each other’s presence. Steve stuck his feet under Eddie’s thighs and delighted at the way squeezed his ankles with a sly smile.

*

Eddie was in Steve’s apartment.

Eddie was in Steve’s apartment alone. 

Two weeks had passed since that movie night, where Steve had to use the throw pillow and blankets to hide his growing erection caused by the light touch of Eddie’s thumb stroking at his ankle. Since then, it felt like the fire that had been ignited in his gut had been smouldering, slow and steady ever since then, and now that he was alone with Eddie it was threatening to turn into an inferno, burning him from the inside out with desire.

Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands as he waved vaguely towards the room as a whole. Eddie was looking around with an appraising eye, brow furrowed only a little.

“What?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. He looked around his apartment as if it was the first time he was seeing it, trying to decide what caused the crease between Eddie’s brow. Eddie had been at his apartment before a few times now, but they'd never been here alone. He supposed he was now finally getting the chance to really analyze it. “What is it?”

“I thought it would be… grander, I don’t know,” Eddie laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Steve noticed the indents on Eddie’s wrist that indicated he normally kept hair ties on his wrist, but there were none now. They must have been recently removed if the mark was still there. Ever since Steve had become friends with Robin, he had kept a few on his own wrist for her in case of emergencies. He dragged his eyes away, because if Eddie caught him staring at his wrists he wouldn’t be able to explain himself. 

“Grander?” Steve laughed, moving into the kitchen. “Who do you think I am? Bezos?” 

“Fuck Bezos,” Eddie said mildly, with no venom in his voice. “I dunno, I just expected… something. You wouldn’t walk in here and think ‘Wow, two of the top earners on Twitch live here’. It looks… cozy. Homey, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Steve grinned. “I know what you mean. I’ve seen those house tours they do on Youtube. I just -,” he sighed, scratching at the side of his thumb, “I’ve tried so hard my whole life to escape that, you know? Not new money, massive mansions, but - yeah. Big, empty houses.”

Eddie nodded, “I dunno. I get it, like - I’m not rich. Um, I’m actually really quite poor,” he laughed, self deprecating. “Those houses are insane. I just want somewhere to call mine, you know? That I’m proud of. I don’t want to be too embarrassed to bring friends around.”

“Is that how you feel now?” Steve asked him, softly. 

Eddie barked out a short laugh, “Uh, I suppose. Nevermind, it’s stupid and way too deep for this right now. Sorry, I tend to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Get too personal way too soon. Tends to weird people out.”

Steve smiled, “I like it. Gonna have to try harder than that to weird me out. Beer?”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed easily, looking relieved at the change in conversation. He took the beer from Steve - a lager in a glass bottle, because while Steve left most of his snottiness behind him, he refused to drink beer from a can - and wandered around Steve’s living room, looking at the life he and Robin had built together.

He felt a little exposed, to be honest, as Eddie looked up at the framed posters and artwork on the wall, the knick knacks and little figurines on shelves. There were a few photos around - framed on walls, or in little photo stands on the tables, or on polaroids on the fridge. Proof of his life and his friends and that he existed . Eddie knelt down by a large bookcase which instead held boardgames - all Robin’s doing, not Steve’s - and pulled out Catan with a huge grin.

“That’s not mine,” Steve said, quickly, just to set Eddie’s expectations, as though Eddie didn't know him at all. “I’m terrible at all those board games. I honestly don’t know what to do, I just do what Dustin tells me too.”

“You’re cute,” Eddie said, grinning at Steve wickedly.

“Um-,” Steve’s face flushed and he stood still, cemented to the spot. “What?”

“You hate these board games but you’ll play them because your friends want to, right?” Eddie turned back around, thankfully, and Steve rubbed at his warm face as he placed the box back in. “That’s cute.”

“I- yeah, I suppose,” Steve said, watching Eddie thumb over the D&D kits, boxes and books he had for the kids. 

Watching Eddie stand in his living room, wearing socks as his shoes were discarded at the door felt - domestic. He liked the sight of Eddie in his house, like he belonged. Like he was the missing puzzle piece in their life and slotted in just perfectly. 

Eddie frowned, suddenly, turning from Steve.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, daring to take a few steps forward. Eddie was in touching distance, now. If Steve reached out his hand he could run his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

“Honestly?” Eddie raised both his brows at Steve, mischief no longer dancing in his eyes, but instead annoyance. Steve felt himself go still at the sudden change in temperature. “I’m a bit pissed off.”

“Why?” he answered; slowly, cautiously.

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh that sounded bitter. Steve felt, very suddenly, that this was going to be an important conversation. Like if he messed this up, he would ruin this delicate thing they had been building between them. His fist was clenched in his pants pockets so tightly that it forced the hem to rise, letting Steve glimpse Eddie’s ankle.

“I guess I’m still coming to terms with the fact that you’re a good guy, Steve,” Eddie pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Why… wouldn’t I be a good guy?”

“Look at you!” Eddie waved towards Steve. Steve looked down at his outfit - a short sleeved buttoned shirt, tucked into corduroy pants with a belt - with quiet shock, then looked up at Eddie, who was now waving his hand down his own body. Tight fitting jeans and a tank top with a logo on it Steve didn’t recognize, with the sleeve holes so wide that Steve could see Eddie’s ribs. His leather jacket had been hung on the coat rack at the same time Eddie had discarded his Docs. 

Steve blinked, slowly, the confusion clear on his face.

“You’re so - ugh!”

“Are you mad that I don’t fit into a stereotype?” Steve started to smile, slowly. His hand felt cold from the condensation on the beer bottle. “Because I really like sports, if that helps you a little.”

Eddie finally smiled sideways at him. “Yeah, it does, a little.”

“I used to be an asshole,” Steve admitted. “Exactly what you’d expect me to be like. But I changed, I did a lot of self-reflecting or whatever. I’d like to think I’m a better person than I was at seventeen.”

“You’re the internet’s golden boy,” Eddie waved his beer again before taking an impressively large gulp. “Like, everyone is obsessed with you. Everyone thinks you're so hot!”

“Is that a problem?”

“ Yes! ” Eddie hissed, his eyes wild. And Steve felt a very tiny budding of hope in his chest - he’d thought he had been positive that Eddie liked him back for a while, but sometimes he doubted. They’d been standing in Steve’s living room for quite a while now, so Steve just looked Eddie in the eye as he took a drink. He followed Eddie’s eyes as they dropped down to Steve’s lips wrapped around the bottle. Steve made sure, when removing the bottle from his mouth, that it made an obscene wet popping noise and a small, smouldering fire started to burn in the pit of his stomach when Eddie’s pupils dilated.

“Are you jealous , Eddie?”

Stunned, and suddenly caught out in his staring, Eddie snapped his gaze back to Steve, a red flush beginning to form on his chest - which Steve could see, thanks to his revealing tank top.

“No - maybe,” Eddie fisted his hands in his own hair and Steve wondered what it would feel like to thread his own hands through it. They’d probably get tangled and then they’d start yelling at each other and it would probably only end badly. Still, Steve ached to reach out and do just that. 

And then, Steve clocked. 

“You hate being just like everyone else , don’t you?”

“What?! No!”

“You do! You just hate that you like me - because you do like me ,” Steve pointed the lip of his beer bottle into Eddie’s chest. “You can’t stand the idea that I’m likeable, and that you’re no better than the unwashed masses, huh? Because you want to kiss me.” 

Eddie looked so stubborn in that moment, Steve thought about throwing all caution to the wind and kissing him, but he restrained himself. 

“Is this a joke?” Eddie asked him, quietly, “Because I’m not sure I can handle this if it’s a joke.”

“I don't understand.”

“People like you don’t go for people like me, Steve,” Eddie frowned. 

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to insult me or you with that comment,” Steve frowned, very aware that they were standing on the tip of an iceberg.

“I guess I’m saying that I don’t really get it. You and your friends, you always joke about how you like me. Is it just joking?” Eddie steeled himself for Steve’s answer.

“It was never a joke; why would we joke about that?”

“I just think if you really knew me, then you wouldn’t like me,” Eddie said, voice barely more than a whisper. He looked pained, as if the words had been ripped from his mouth involuntarily. 

“Then let me know you,” Steve took another step forward. They were standing chest to chest and he could feel Eddie’s breath on his face as the other’s breathing became more ragged. “I think that you’re insanely hot, and crazy talented, and so funny that one time I laughed so hard that snot came out of my nose.”

Eddie cringed, a little, but a slow smile was starting to grow. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, now staring at Eddie’s lips. 

“Fuck it,” Eddie whispered, and leaned in to kiss Steve.

Eddie kissed like his life depended on it. He licked into Steve’s mouth and Steve let him, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s hands trailed down Steve’s back but the beer bottle in Eddie’s hand was getting in the way, so Steve pulled back, just a little and downed his beer in one go. Eddie laughed, his eyes lighting up in a way Steve hadn’t seen before and did the same.

Steve took the empty bottle from Eddie and placed it on the kitchen counter, Eddie following closely behind, nipping at his heels.. He looked a little like a dog chasing a car, not sure what to do now because he never thought he would get this far.

He spun, and Eddie placed his hands on the counter, bracketing Steve in between the counter and Eddie. And then they were kissing again, desperately pawing at each other like teenagers. Steve broke, again, and started pressing hot, wet kisses down Eddie’s adam's apple to the hollow at the base of his neck. Eddie groaned, tilting his head back just a little to give Steve more access. Eddie caught Steve’s mouth again and his lips burned from the little bit of stubble Eddie had. It delighted Steve; it was so different to kissing a girl, where he usually was the one in charge. Although it was nice to give up control a little bit, Steve still loved having the power to make those noises come from Eddie. 

He pushed on Eddie’s chest, forcing him to step backwards the few metres it took until his back hit against the door to Steve’s bedroom. Eddie reached out, trying and failing to open Steve’s door without having to break away from Steve’s lips. It was a valiant effort, but futile nonetheless. Laughing into Eddie’s mouth, Steve reached out and turned the handle himself and they stumbled backwards. 

Steve thought he might be in heaven. 

He was finally, finally , kissing Eddie. And Eddie clearly liked him enough to kiss him back, but finally pulled apart to take gasping breaths. He looked ruined , face flushed and pupils blown, his lips swollen from kissing. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, tightly but quickly, and then moved back in to kiss Steve again. 

“What was that?” Steve laughed, copying him. 

Eddie smiled bashfully and said, “I’m taking a mental picture.”

Steve’s heart pounded so hard he struggled to catch his breath. He felt giddy , like he weighed nothing as he tugged at Eddie’s shirt. Eddie took the hint and removed it before Steve had a complete meltdown and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Steve down onto his lap. 

The pressure of both of their cocks being pressed together suddenly, even if it was through two layers of denim, made Steve gasp into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie bit at Steve’s lip - not hard enough to hurt, not really, but hard enough that Stvee groaned, low and guttural into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie laughed, in a way that just exuded confidence, his hands squeezing tight at Steve’s waist before dropping to his ass. 

Although pulling away from Eddie felt worse than peeling off his own skin, Steve did so only so that he could take off his own shirt, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor. Eddie's hands were on him in an instant, dangers grazing over his ribs in a way that tickled. Steve wiggled to escape the tickling, accidentally grinding his hips down into Eddie. That immediately stopped the light touching, Eddie’s grip on him turning white hot, 

Eddie flipped them, laying Steve back on the bed, straddling over him. Steve's legs still reached the ground and he gripped at Eddie’s strong thighs, cursing the fact that they were both still wearing jeans. 

“Fuck,” he groaned into Eddie’s mouth, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this for.”

Steve wasn’t sure what he had said wrong, but all of a sudden Eddie froze up, breaking away from him. A familiar, sinking feeling settled in the pit of Steve’s stomach as he watched Eddie clamber off of him, running a hand through his hair. It took everything in him to school his features into something unaffected and cool and Eddie picked up his shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, his voice sticking by him and not wavering, “Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie had his back to Steve and inhaled. Steve watched his shoulders raise with the motion as he said, “I can’t do this.”

“Oh,” he breathed, feeling like an idiot as he leant on his elbows on his bed, shirtless, staring at the man he had been infatuated with for months getting ready to leave. “I don’t understand.”

“Just - I can’t,” Eddie laughed, humourlessly. This version of Eddie didn’t look like him at all - he looked wild, the whites of his eyes showing in panic as he struggled to pull his tank top on. It didn’t match up with the hilarious, sure of himself Eddie that Steve had seen on stage when they had first met in person. Something else must be going on, but what?

“Can’t what?” Steve asked, not moving from his spot on the bed because he was a coward . His gaze had moved from Eddie to settle on his desk, keeping Eddie in his peripheral vision.

“I can’t do this ,” he waved between them. “And I definitely can’t do it with you .” 

It was Steve’s turn to freeze up, hearing a repeat of bullshit in his head, steeling himself for what was coming. He stared, unseeing, trying desperately with everything in him to keep his breathing steady. Play it cool, Harrington. You’re not a teenager anymore. This isn’t a big deal. 

“It’s not worth it,” Eddie sighed, and he sounded exhausted . “You’re - you.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, bitterly. “I sure am me .”

“No - I didn’t mean it like that. You’re famous , and I really like you, but…” Eddie trailed off, looking like he might be the one about to cry when he was the one being casually cruel. “The fame, the invasion of privacy, I- Look, I just can’t do that. I really like you, but you’re not worth it. I have - a lot to lose. I can’t be anywhere in the spotlight.”

You’re not worth it. 

Bullshit. 

Steve managed to nod, mutely. His head was spinning; spiralling. Bullshit. How did this happen to him every time? 

Eddie was looking at him like he expected Steve to say something , but when he didn’t Eddie just let out a breath through his nose, sharply, and left.

He heard the small thudding as Eddie put on his shoes, and then the deafening click at Eddie closed their front door.

Feeling like the ground had suddenly been pulled out from him, Steve lay on his side, pulling the blanket up over him, and stared at the wall until the light from the windows dimmed to the orange glow of streetlights. 

It had been Steve’s turn to make dinner.

Robin flew in through their front door, always a tornado, kicking her shoes off - the clattering told Steve that she did not place them on the shoe rack, instead leaving them wherever they had fallen off. 

“There had better be a good reason I don’t smell something delicious cooking, Ste-,” Robin stumbled through to his bedroom, not even bothering to knock as the door had been slightly ajar - Eddie hadn’t closed it behind him. She looked at Steve, still in the fetal position, and stopped talking. Instead, she climbed into bed behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tightly when he didn’t even complain that she was wearing outside clothes in bed.

She smelled nice, like the apple and vanilla perfumes she mixed together. Steve placed his hand over her own on his stomach and let her lace their fingers together.

“What happened?” She asked, after a solid five minutes of basking in the silence. Steve turned in her arms, tangling their legs together and burying his head into her neck. She scraped her nails into his scalp, massaging it and twirling his hair around her fingers comfortingly. 

“What is it,” Steve managed to say into her neck, “about me?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s only so many times things don’t work out until you start to realise that you’re the common denominator,” Steve mumbled, feeling the sharp hot sting of tears building up. Terribly embarrassing, he tried to blink them back. “I just - I want to know what it is. About me.”

Robin stayed quiet, letting him word vomit into the darkness of the room. She hadn’t even put on the light as she had entered and so they sat there, wrapped up together in the blackness. 

“What is it  - about me, that makes me so unlovable?” Steve ground out, as though the words ached him to say. And they did, a little, because saying it out loud made it real and Robin might be the only person in the world Steve would admit this to unless he was being held at gunpoint. 

“Sweetie,” Robin sighed, her whole body had tensed up at his words and Steve hated himself for putting this on her. She deserved better. “You’re not unlovable.”

“Then why do they always leave?” His voice finally broke on the last syllable and that was it, the tears started to come and he sniffed wetly. “Why am I never enough for someone to stay ?”

Steve was grinding his teeth so hard he could feel the headache building, the pain spiking through his teeth. He knew he’d feel the ache of the pain for days to come, but he couldn’t stop it. Robin held him for what felt like hours, whispering sweet nothings into his ear that he barely made out over the rush of misery in his head, the embarrassment of putting himself out there, even though it was Eddie who kissed him first. She only untangled herself to get them some water, setting up the living room and moving their pity party out there, ordering take out for them from her phone.

Steve fell asleep there, exhausted and worn out, his head in Robin’s lap.

*

Steve let him be upset for one night and one night only. When he woke up the next day, mouth cotton dry and throat sore, he determinately cooked up a full breakfast for himself and Robin, Tears for Fears playing a little too loud for the time of morning it was. He hummed along, stirring the hash brown and vegetables and when Robin appeared in the kitchen, crowding around him, he just smiled sleepily at her. 

This wasn’t the first time Steve’s heart had been broken, and likely wouldn’t be the last. He’d gotten used to putting himself back together. It wasn’t that he was heartbroken because he was in love - it was the loss of possibility, because he knew that he and Eddie could have been something great if they had just had the proper chance. 

They ate breakfast together and ignorant of Steve’s inner turmoil, the world kept spinning.

*

Four days after the Incident(™), as Robin referred to Eddie storming out of their apartment, Steve’s phone pinged.

Eddie

Eddie: meet me at lovers lake?

Steve paused, his phone unlocking automatically from facial recognition and immediately marking the message as seen. He stared at it, unblinking, before replying.

Steve: I’ll be there in fifteen

Lover’s Lake, aptly named, was frozen over. As September had slowly creeped into October, and then into mid-November, the air had become icy cold and sharp against his skin. Steve’s breath snaked out from his mouth in white wisps, so he buried his nose down into the red scarf he wore. Hands buried deep in his coat pocket, he leaned against the hood of his car, still warm from the engine. 

When Eddie appeared, nose red and the curls of his hair looking crunchy - as if he had just washed it and the cold hair was freezing it - he was carrying a basket.

“It’s a little late in the year for picnics, no?” Steve looked down at the basket, at Eddie white knuckling his grip on the handle. He was very proud of how unwavering his voice sounded, vigilant in its cool politeness. 

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Eddie leaned beside Steve. The basket hung limp at his side; Steve thought about shouldering him away. When he spoke, he looked out to the lake rather than looking over at Steve. It was different, looking at Eddie’s profile. Most times when Steve turned to look at Eddie, he found that Eddie was already looking at him. 

Steve made a noncommittal hum, because he had - even if it was just for a split second - considered not coming. He had quit smoking years ago now, when he was still dating Nancy, but still kept a pack on him for social reasons. He took it out now, and placed the unlit cigarette between his lips. “I was deciding if it was worth it .”

Eddie winced. 

“I brought blankets. Do you want to sit?” And then, when Steve still eyes the basket suspiciously, he said bashfully; “Picnics are supposed to be romantic.”

Sardonically, Steve waved his arm in a old fashioned after you movement. The zippo he was trying to light sparked a few times before lighting, but the wind made it hard for the cigarette to catch. He cupped his free hand around it, blocking the wind and successfully lighting the cigarette as well as burning his thumb on the spark wheel. 

Shaking off the burn, he took a few drags, watching as Eddie pulled blankets from his stupidly large picnic basket and laid them on the frosty ground. 

“Is there any good in there, or just blankets?” 

“Yes!” Eddie scrambled to the basket, pulling out two squashed sandwiches wrapped in cellophane. The weight of the blankets must have been too much for them. Eddie looked a little scattered - it might be the first time Steve had seen him really, truly, anxious. Like Steve’s opinion on the blankets and sandwiches really mattered. 

Since he was feeling nice, he sat down on the blankets. It was truly too cold for this sort of thing, and Steve really felt like shivering but Eddie had gone through the effort of laying out the blankets. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie blurred out, staring at the squished bread. It looked like it might once have been cheese and tomato. 

“I’m not sure the sandwich cares if it’s squished or not.”

“No, not the - I meant to you. I’m sorry. About the other night.” 

“Okay.” Steve pulled his jacket tighter to him. The smoke was burning his lungs, trying to warm him from the inside out. Robin would spit at him to wash his clothes and brush his teeth when he got home because she hated the smell. One cigarette when he was stressed wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“I just - like, I, uh,” Eddie started and stopped, took a deep breath and then continued, wringing his hands together anxiously. The skin of his knuckles were a violent red, indicating that this was a common habit of his. The hair ties were back on his wrist. “I wanted to explain myself. I guess.”

“You know - I told you that I’m poor? I mean like, grew up in a trailer kind of poor,” Eddie said, slowly, like he was talking himself up to admitting all of this. Steve nodded. “When I was, I dunno, fourteen? Fifteen? We struggled to pay the bills. My uncle worked doubles at the plant - he worked nights, he worked overtime. But it wasn’t enough. So I picked up some, uh, extracurricular jobs, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Steve replied. Partly because he genuinely didn’t know, but mostly because it made Eddie uncomfortable to actually say it out loud and Steve was feeling petty. He’d cried over this boy. 

“ Iselldrugs ,” Eddie hissed, his voice low and tone miserable. “I am a drug dealer, Steve. Barely got my high school diploma, so this is my best chance at staying off the street.”

It all made sense, suddenly. 

Eddie had always been cagey about his work; changing the subject, avoiding the question or just straight up not replying at all. Being in the public eye - especially alongside Steve, whose every move was analysed and picked apart, whilst continuing that occupation, was a one way ticket to jail time. 

“Do you like doing that?” 

“Selling drugs?” A nod from Steve. “I’m good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you liked doing that.” 

Eddie sighed, loud and exasperated.  His breath smoked from him like a dragon, dissipating above them. Steve handed him his cigarette and he wordlessly took it, breathing deeply. “It’s not that simple. I don’t really have a choice. I need money to survive and I’m in too deep now to change career.”

“The D&D streams are monetised. You get a cut of that,” Steve reminded Eddie. He didn’t think Eddie expected people to actually like their web show, but Eddie was a natural performer. Their first stream was the top trending hashtag on twitter for three hours.  

“What happens when I do something wrong?” Eddie flicked the ash from the cigarette. “When I say something stupid and the internet turns on me, or we publicly date and someone decides to do a deep dive on my life and find out I dealt? This is gonna be with me forever.”

“And what about Corroded Coffin?” Steve desperately wished he was wearing gloves. He thought his fingers might be turning necrotic from frostbite in his pockets. “You guys are way more popular than you led us to believe.”

“Yeah, I don't know. Seems like that might be in the up and up, but we can’t rely on that. It’s not a given.”

“The webshow is a given, though. You will make good money from it, you won't have to deal.” 

Eddie didn’t reply, so they passed the cigarette back and forth quietly until it burned right to the butt. Steve was looking out at the frozen lake, thinking of the current under the ice when Eddie finally spoke. 

“I do think that you’re worth it, by the way. I was wrong before,” Eddie tugged at a strand of his own hair, “You know, I’ve always been a coward. It’s easier to run than risk getting hurt.”

“I never thought you were a coward,” Steve said. “Honestly, I get it. I hate it sometimes - being constantly under scrutiny. Every time I leave the house I have to dress as though someone is going to take a picture of me. But sometimes you have to decide if the pros outweigh the cons.”

He didn’t much like the idea of someone making a pros and cons list about him, but still. If it helped Eddie.

“I want to be your friend. I want - more,” Steve powered through, his cheeks red but not from the cold. “I still want to be around you if you decide to focus on the webshow, and I still want you around if you keep dealing. I don’t care about that at all. I care about you .”

“I’m sorry. About what I said at your apartment,” Eddie’s shaking hands rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I panicked, and I didn’t mean it. I just said what I had to, um, to make sure you didn’t want to follow me. And when I got home, I threw up. I felt so awful. It took me three hours to work up to sending that message to you. I thought you wouldn’t show, but. I don’t know why I thought that. You’ve always been a better man than people give you credit for.” 

Life is too short, Steve thought, to hold in hatred and resentment. To hold onto fear and anger. So he reached over and took the squished sandwich, unwrapping it and taking a bite. 

Eddie looked like he might cry from relief, seeing the bite as the olive branch it was.

“Um, so… the back of my van is much warmer than this. What do you say we move the blankets in there and finish the picnic?” He asked, hesitantly. As though he wasn’t quite convinced all was forgiven.

Steve was up in a second, gathering what he could with his one free hand. Eddie laughed - it sounded like the weight was being lifted, Steve felt lighter; happier, already. 

The inside of the van was still cold, but bundled in the blankets and red, cold noses pressed against each other, Steve thought that they were going to be okay, in the end. 

*

Eight months later, Hellfire Club was the most streamed web show in history, having broken multiple records with their explosive finale that had left fans on the edge of their seats.

Robin and Steve had moved into a much larger apartment, with some spare bedrooms for the kids and one for Argyle and Jonathan. There was a large room - originally a den - that had been redesigned to look like a mediaeval tavern, fitted with a large table with a screen built in for D&D. They each had their own room for streaming, finally taking work out of their bedrooms.

More importantly, though, their own bedrooms were much larger than before to make room for Eddie and Nancy, who had carved out their own space in their little family. 

Steve had often felt discomfort at what his fame had cost him. But in the end, what it had gifted him in the shape of Eddie was more than worth it.