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The phone rings in the middle of the night, cuts a tear through the heavy darkness, shrills its way around the empty house and into Steve’s bedroom, where he’d had a handset installed last year for more private conversations.He blinks, the noise finding him in that fragile place between sleep and wakefulness, and for a moment, he thinks he’s dreaming.The phone rings again, then cuts to silence.Steve rises from where he had been lying in bed, still dressed, arms under his head as he watched the stars slide through the night sky. He looks at the phone, dares it to ring again.It does.‘Hello?’ he says warily into the mouthpiece, still expecting bad news, heavy breaths, demands and commands and another blow in his gut as he realises… it’s back.‘Hey,’ a soft voice says instead, shy and questioning.‘Munson?’ Steve asks before he even realises he knows who it is. His hand immediately rises to rub the back of his neck.‘Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?’‘No, no. I was just….’ What was he doing exactly? ‘Nothing,’ he finishes lamely. ‘I wasn’t sleeping.’‘You too?’Steve lets out a long breath. His reverie is derailed now, wherever it had been going, but maybe it’s nice to not be alone. Right now. Or ever.‘Yeah, man,’ he sighs.There’s a pause on the line as he hears Eddie shifting around.‘The dreams…’ Eddie begins, quietly, afraid.‘I don’t even get that far,’ Steve confides. ‘Can’t even get my brain to shut off long enough to fall asleep.’‘Lucky.’Steve shrugs, realises Eddie can’t see it. ‘I dunno. I feel like I’m only half alive right now, you know? I haven’t slept in… five days? Six? Maybe some nightmares would be worth it.’Eddie grunts. ‘Not like this,’ is all he says.Some curling finger of sympathy rises up in Steve, unbidden. ‘That bad?’‘Yeah,’ Eddie breathes, and it’s the shakiest he’s ever sounded. ‘They just keep coming for me. I just keep… dying, over and over again. Every time I wake up it’s a surprise.’Steve knows he’s talking about the bats. Talking about the way he had, actually, been dead for a while before El had found him in the darkness and talked him back to his body, guided him into the broken shell they’d had to leave behind in the upside down. They’d gone back, though. They had to. Steve had to. Even if it was just to have something to bury. Eddie deserved that. So did Dustin, and Eddie’s uncle… Wayne, was it?They’d been able to save him, though. Some miracle of modern medicine, El’s powers, and other things they’ll never know about when Eddie was locked away in a lab somewhere for six long weeks. Steve had never been happier to see anyone than Eddie when he was released. He forgot everything - reputations, years of taunting and avoidance, apathy, the curious gazes of his friends - and wrapped Eddie in the biggest hug he could manage without damaging him. He surprised Eddie. He’s pretty sure he surprised himself, too.Maybe this is why Munson is calling him now. Maybe, after everything, Steve was the one he knew he could call at two forty-five a.m. on a Wednesday without a barrage of questions, of pity, of doubt.They had nothing to prove to each other anymore. The trappings of whoever they had been were stripped away in the nightmare mirror world, where they wore each other’s blood and clothes and hopes and fears.‘You’re here,’ Steve says, and it’s a statement, a reassurance. ‘You’re safe. Do you want to come over?’He doesn’t know where the last part comes from, just knows he would feel better if he could see Eddie, check him over for fatal wounds, press fingers to his pulse to make sure he’s not lying to him.Eddie hums. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’Steve isn’t sure what he’s asking. ‘My parents are out of town,’ he says. ‘Plenty of room.’ He doesn’t know why he adds that. It’s not as though he’s going to let Eddie ramble around the house by himself.There’s a pause, and then Eddie says, ‘Okay.’Twenty minutes later, the unsteady rumble of Eddie’s van pulls into the driveway. Steve lets him tap twice on the door, then swings it open on a breath.They look at each other for a moment, eyes searching. Steve’s head is full of white noise.‘Come in,’ he says.They end up on the couch, knee-to-knee, some stupid sitcom on low in the background as they pass a joint back and forth.‘You’d think I could sleep through the night with how hard I’ve been hitting this stuff,’ Eddie comments out of nowhere.Steve takes the joint back, pulls a steady drag of smoke from it, lets it sit in his lungs. ‘I dunno, maybe it’s giving you bad dreams. Maybe you should ease off a bit.’Eddie sits up and turns to look at him, dark eyes piercing in the dim light of the room. ‘What happened to me is giving me bad dreams, Steve. This just… takes the edge off.’Steve shrugs, not exactly an expert in the interaction of drugs and trauma. Just worried, that’s all. Perpetually worried that he’s going to wake up and Eddie will still be dead in the upside down, one more life Steve couldn’t save.‘Suit yourself,’ he says.They settle back down against the couch cushions, staring at nothing, elbows a hair’s breadth apart.In the morning, Steve cooks them a simple breakfast, lets Eddie get on his way to the part-time job he landed at the tire shop after his name was cleared.Neither of them have slept.--The next time Eddie calls, Steve’s parents are home. He grabs the receiver off the hook after the first ring, hoping they stay asleep.‘Hey,’ he says.‘Hey,’ Eddie responds. ‘You awake?’‘As much as I ever am, I guess.’‘Me too.’Steve wants to invite him over again, just to have someone else to pass the empty hours of the night with. Normally he enjoys spending it alone, basks in the sweet hope that everyone else is asleep and no bad news will reach him until at least morning. But Eddie isn’t an interruption in the way another person would be. He doesn’t make small talk to fill the space. He fidgets, sometimes incessantly, until the weed hits just right, but he’s quiet most of the time. It surprises Steve a bit, used to the version of Eddie that never stops talking, just to have something to say. This Eddie is different, subdued, muted, and Steve wants to protect the fragile light still burning in there somewhere.But Steve’s parents are home, and there would be too many awkward questions if they woke up, or found Steve in the morning, lounging next to a once-suspected murderer from the wrong side of town on their pristine white sofa.‘Want to meet up at the quarry?’ he asks.‘Your house too good for me now?’ Eddie tries to joke, but the note of worry is obvious.It’s a warm summer night, and Steve has blankets in the back of his car, and he thinks it would be nice to get some air.‘Nah, man. My parents are home. Don’t want to wake them. They get weird about shit.’ About me having a guy like you over in the middle of the night, he thinks but does not say. He wonders if they would think it was drugs. A deal that lingered, turned into a chat and then hanging out. Or if they would just consider Eddie one more stray he’d picked up lately. If they were even paying enough attention to know that’s what he’d been doing.‘Yeah, okay,’ Eddie says easily. ‘The quarry. See you there in twenty.’They spend a while not talking, not doing anything, just sitting side by side on a blanket, staring up at the sky, each lost in his own parallel experience of coming out the other side of hell in mostly one piece.‘I have an idea,’ Steve says, just as the faintest blush begins to creep along the edges of the horizon.He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, but he can’t quite bring himself to turn and meet them, and he doesn’t question why.‘What if we took turns sleeping? Like, kept watch while the other one tried to get some shut eye?’Eddie nods slowly, mulls it over. ‘Yeah, maybe, that could work.’‘Maybe knowing someone is there, keeping an eye out, will help us go to sleep. And if the dreams are bad, I’ll wake you up right away. You won’t be alone with them.’Eddie’s eyes are soft as he nods, lips curved up in the tiniest bit of smile, his face framed by messy curls, and Steve is suddenly, strangely reminded of Nancy. Nancy who isn’t here, because that last trip through the nightmare was just one too many for her. Nancy who is back in sunny California with Jonathan. Nancy who, Steve realises with a sharp twinge, he misses with a bone-deep ache but can’t imagine ever kissing again.Eddie lies down on the blanket, head pillowed on Steve’s thigh. ‘Just a few hours, Harrington,’ he says, voice already small with exhaustion. ‘Then it’s your turn.’Steve watches him, amused and sort of caught off guard by the unapologetic invasion of his space. He watches the deep rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as sleep grabs him hard and drags him under within minutes. Steve envies the ease of it. He goes back to watching the stars, wondering and not wondering what impossible things out there could be looking back at him.--They alternate like this, between Steve’s house and the quarry, sometimes just sitting in the back seat of his car when it’s too cold or wet out, saying nothing and just holding the space between them open and inviting. They never go to Eddie’s trailer. Steve is never invited and he doesn’t ask why. He’s only too happy to open this part of his life to Eddie, to allow him in and offer what comforts he can in the dead of night where no one else can intrude.One night, when the silence has stretched on so long Steve can hear ringing in his ears, he feels Eddie slump against him.He snorts, sudden and spooked, and sits up, staring at Steve wide-eyed.‘Sorry man. Just kind of dropped out there.’Steve looks at him, amusement curling at his mouth. ‘I thought that was kind of the point.’Eddie shakes his head, lets his bangs hide his eyes. ‘Yeah, but, I like… just slammed into you there. Rude.’Steve snorts a laugh, then holds an arm out. ‘If you want to cuddle, you just have to say so.’Eddie gives him an unreadable look, those dark eyes watching him, looking for the joke or the catch.Steve tilts his head in encouragement. ‘Get in here.’ He doesn’t know why he does it, just likes the way it makes him feel warm and a little bit silly. Eddie’s spent so much time already slumped against the car door next to him or using Steve’s legs as a pillow. They’re close now, an unspoken thing between them. They can be close like this, too, Steve decides.Eddie curls into him, shoulder slotting awkwardly into his, head tucked under his chin, frizzy hair tickling his nose. Steve lifts his chin, anticipates a grimace which doesn’t come. Eddie falls into an almost instant deep sleep, his breaths slow and steady, his limbs limp, his weight anchoring Steve.‘You’re kind of heavy, you know that?’ Steve whispers into the pre-dawn chill.Heavier than he’s used to.But not in a bad way.Just different.--Steve sleeps sometimes. Before he falls under, he can feel Eddie watching him, then watching the darkness around them, the steady flick back and forth of his eyes, like he isn’t sure which holds greater danger. Steve knows he was an asshole, knows he was part of the crowd that made Eddie’s life hell in school. He’d like to think he’s earning back little scraps of trust every time he lets his eyes fall shut and the void claim him for a few hours under Eddie’s careful gaze.He knows Eddie Munson would never hurt him, despite what the town still thinks, would do a hell of a lot to save him if danger did show up. He knows he’s safer here than anywhere else.--On the nights Eddie dreams, Steve is extra careful with him. He holds him close to let him know he's not alone, but not too close, because Eddie thrashes in his sleep when he feels restricted.When Eddie finally quiets back into slumber, which he does now - the dreams no longer wake him up, something Steve takes a small, private point of pride in - Steve has taken to petting his hair. It’s softer than it looks, and while it’s usually full of tangles and split ends, it’s clean. Steve realises he had thought it wouldn’t be, would smell of smoke and grease and leave a sheen on his fingers. He thinks of offering Eddie some hair care tips, buying him some oil for his curls, showing him how to apply it after a shower before his brain skips away from the image and brings him back to the frogs singing in the distance, down by the water.--Steve and Robin are back working at Family Video, still serving cautious customers who creep around the fissures in the parking lot, looking wide-eyed as they search for distractions in black plastic cases.The town will go back to normal soon enough, Steve thinks. It’s still just too new, the ‘earthquake’ and the serial killings. It rocked their sleepy little town hard. But people inevitably find their way back to routine, and he imagines that even he will, too, someday.Robin’s quieter, bearing the burden of everything like they all are. She still manages to put a smile on his face every time they share a shift, though, if only because she knows how to push all his buttons, and he wonders how on earth he ended up in a best friends sort of situation with a lesbian who teases him until his face is flushed red.‘How are your Moonlit Meanderings with Munson?’ she asks him, pronouncing the capital letters.She knows about Eddie, of course. He can’t keep a secret from her, even if he wanted to.He shrugs. ‘I think I slept three, maybe four hours last night.’She smiles at him, soft and sad at the same time. ‘That’s an improvement, right?’‘It’s about the best I’ve done so far.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Sometimes I only wake up because Eddie knees me in the face.’Robin raises an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know you were starting up a midnight fight club.’‘It’s not his fault,’ Steve rushes to correct. ‘He doesn’t do it on purpose. He just… can’t sit still.’‘Yeah, but what’s your face doing by his knees in the first place?’Steve doesn’t know why his face heats. ‘Sometimes we’re in the back seat of my car. There’s not a lot of room.’Robin’s smile turns mischievous. ‘So it’s that kind of date.’‘Shut up, Buckley.’ Steve goes back to reshelving returns, but he can feel the heat on the back of his neck, the way Robin lets her gaze linger for a while, studying him.--One night in late August, Steve allows himself to look. Eddie’s face is soft in slumber. His lips are slightly parted, his eyelashes splayed against the pale skin of his cheeks. He’s an interesting contrast, pretty and soft like a girl in some ways, a fragility to him that Steve wants more than anything to protect. But there’s no denying the fine scratch of stubble on his jaw, the angles of him, the size and heft of his body as he falls into Steve, and Steve finds he doesn’t mind at all.He lets the moonlight wash over them as they sit against the rocks at the quarry, and Steve finds he’s soft for Eddie. Soft in the way he’s been for the handful of pretty girls he let worm their way into his heart. The thought doesn’t scare him, and maybe that scares him, because he thinks it should.He thinks about what a strange pair they make. Eddie with his metalhead music and his rockstar ‘fuck the man’ hair and his stained fingertips and his soft, delicate heart that he protects with a thin veneer of fake aggression and theatrics. Steve and his expensive, preppy clothes and his sculpted fall of bangs and his fancy car and maybe also the discarded asshole persona that disguised his own soft inner belly of hurt, the confused, searching ache that plagues him, convinces him he’s always failed everyone he ever loved.He thinks about how badly he doesn’t want to fail Eddie this time.--They have one last summer pool party, the kids splashing and screaming like they've never had to do it to fight for their lives.Eddie wears slightly too small swim trunks, deep red, a last vestige of childhood no doubt, and the sight does something to Steve, causes something to pull tight and hot, low in his gut.He spills beer on himself when Eddie catches his eye from the pool, hair slicked across his face, and winks, grin stretching wide into dimples that Steve’s already memorised.Robin notices, because she always does. She gives him a sly, knowing look, and he feels something twist inside of him.--Eddie stays over after everyone has gone home. Steve sneaks him into his room because his parents have come home late, just as they were wrapping up and saying their last goodbyes to everyone. He knows it’s a risk, but he can’t bear the thought of parting, knows it’s going to be a long, slow night of wakefulness.He offers Eddie his closet, tells him to pick something to sleep in, and lets him take a shower in his personal bathroom while he heads downstairs to rinse the chlorine and sunscreen from his sun-warmed skin.When he returns, Eddie is wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Steve owns, ones he grew out of several years ago and abandoned in the back of a drawer, black nylon with white pinstriping and slits up the sides. He’s got on a pair of athletic socks, pulled, improbably, all the way up past his knees. The double stripes circle pale thighs as he sits on the bed, legs tucked up under him.Steve is impractically, undeniably hard.Eddie’s hair is bigger than he’s ever seen it, a cloud of teased waves falling to one side of his head. He’s obviously put some kind of product in it, something he must have found in Steve’s bathroom.‘This is what you’re wearing to sleep?’ Steve manages, his voice just a bit high.‘I saw you looking. At my legs,’ Eddie says, voice low, eyes glittering in the light from the bedside table. ‘Earlier. In the pool.’Steve looks at them again, and swallows.‘We can’t do this here,’ he says suddenly.Before he knows what he’s doing, they are fleeing into the night, Steve in baggy sleep shorts and a t-shirt, and Eddie still in those stupid socks. Steve just drives, trying to steady his breath and keep his eyes on the road.‘Where are we going?’ Eddie asks at last, his voice small and unsure.‘Dunno,’ Steve says. Maybe if he just keeps driving, he can outrun this.‘The lake,’ Eddie offers, and he doesn’t have to specify which one.Steve thinks about the last time they were there. The portal and the bats and the way he had almost died.‘We won’t go near the water,’ Eddie says, reading his thoughts on his face.Steve doesn’t know where else to go, his brain doing its best to circumvent the truths in front of him in a blister heat of white noise, so he drives them to the lake and parks in the lot, the orange glow of the sodium lights spilling in through the back window. It’s one in the morning and there’s no one around.‘Let’s get in the back,’ he says without looking at Eddie.They sit side by side for a few minutes, the middle seat stretching empty between them. Steve feels like his skin is too small and the seconds are ticking by too fast and he has no idea what he’s gotten into, but it’s easier to do something than to just keep sitting here like this. A silence once companionable is now unbearable.Steve clears his throat. ‘Are we really doing this?’Eddie looks at him, still scared and unsure. ‘We don’t have to do anything.’‘I’m not- ‘ Steve starts, then stops himself.‘Yeah, no, it’s okay,’ Eddie says, not looking at him. ‘You can just take me home if you want.’ Steve thinks he would probably bail out the door, try to walk, if he had shoes on.So Steve thinks about it, about just getting back into the driver’s seat, leaving Eddie here in the back by himself, driving in an awkward, uncomfortable silence to the trailer park and letting Eddie slip inside in his skimpy little shorts. Spending the rest of the night alone in his room, the nothingness eating up inside of him as he waits for the sun to rise.How long would they wait before they spoke again? Would Eddie still call in the middle of the night just to tell Steve he wasn’t alone? Would it never be the same again, just because Steve looked at his legs and Eddie saw him looking? He wishes they could stay in this inbetween space forever, the hazy middle between dusk and dawn.‘I don’t want you to go,’ he finally says.Eddie is watching him carefully now, like he is a dangerous animal that might strike. He nods, once, then waits.‘Can we just….’ Steve tries. ‘Like we’ve been?’‘Yeah, yeah, of course,’ Eddie says too quickly. ‘Whatever you want.’Steve is the first to bridge the gap, slipping over the middle seat with a squeak of leather. At first he’s just squishing Eddie up against the door, their hips digging painfully into each other, and he thinks he’s really, really miscalculated this.‘Um,’ Eddie says.Steve reaches around and grabs his legs under the thighs, feels the soft smoothness of the skin and the tickle of hair just above the socks, the goosepimples on his bare flesh, and lifts them up and over his lap. They fit better this way, but it’s still awkward. Eddie’s hair is so big it almost brushes the ceiling of the car and Steve is suddenly laughing. He laughs so hard it hurts and his eyes start to leak.Eddie is laughing, too, but like he isn’t sure why and he might find out he’s the butt of yet another joke.‘I’m sorry,’ Steve gasps. ‘It’s just. Your hair. What did you do to your hair?’Eddie’s hand flies up, trying to pat down the extra volume. ‘You don’t like it?’‘No,’ Steve snorts. ‘I fucking love it. It’s perfect. You look like you just walked out of a hair band aerobics class.’ This sets him off again and he’s laughing so hard he can’t speak, forehead pressed into Eddie’s shoulder.Eddie is frowning but he’s also laughing, soft and quiet beneath Steve’s guffaws.‘Jesus, Steve, if I knew you were going to get such a gas from this I would have done it ages ago.’Steve is trying to suck in air through his spasming diaphragm. ‘I’m sorry! No, really, it’s great! It’s so good. You look amazing. I’m just…. I don’t know. I’m sorry.’Eddie’s still patting nervously at the frizz around his face, his eyes darting back and forth from Steve’s face to his own thighs, tightly pressed together across Steve’s lap. He’s shaking slightly, from cold or from nerves.‘Guess this was a pretty stupid idea. I don’t know why I thought I could seduce Steve Harrington.’Steve chokes when he hears the word. It suddenly makes all this so much more real. ‘You… what?’‘Come on, wasn’t it obvious?’‘I mean, yeah. No. I don’t know.’‘You pulled me out of your house in the middle of the night and drove me to a secluded area and told me to get in the backseat, Steve. I kind of thought you knew where this was going.’‘We’ve been doing that for months!’Eddie hums thoughtfully. ‘Maybe with a little less urgency, though. And a little more clothes.’Steve sees his legs still trembling. ‘You cold?’‘No, I’m just…. Yeah. Yeah, okay, maybe a little bit.’Steve fumbles under the seat where their usual blanket is, his face pressed close to Eddie’s ribs. He pulls it out before he can give in to the urge to inhale, to stay, to taste, and spreads it across their laps. ‘Better?’Eddie nods, grabbing an edge to tuck it around himself.They sit like that for a while, Steve afraid to move. He’s spent hours holding Eddie, playing with his hair, touching in ways that he didn’t think had to mean anything. Now he thinks of wrapping an arm around Eddie’s waist and he feels like the bottom is dropping out of his stomach.‘It’s really fine if you just want to take me home,’ Eddie says again, still not quite meeting his eyes.Things feel a little less threatening with his legs covered up, so Steve takes a deep breath. ‘No.’‘No, it’s not fine? Or no, you don’t want to take me home?’Steve doesn’t answer, just puts his hand atop the blanket, feels the spasm of muscle beneath. ‘Do you want to try to sleep? I’ll keep watch.’One corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. ‘Not sure I could sleep right now if my life depended on it. Kind of a little… yeah.’‘A little what?’Eddie blows a strand of hair off his face and looks at the ceiling. ‘I dunno. Worked up? Nervous? Scared?’‘What are you scared of?’ Steve doesn’t like the idea of him being scared. Not anymore, not after everything he’s been through, and especially not of him.Eddies rubs a hand down his face. ‘Oh god, I don’t know. You never speaking to me again. How much I’ve embarrassed myself. I totally misread this, didn’t I?’Steve shakes his head. ‘I’m not going to never speak to you again, you dork. You’re like… my best friend.’ He pauses, feels the weight of what he’s just said. ‘Don’t tell Robin I said that.’Eddie’s eyes are big and dark in the glow of the lamplight. ‘Best friend?’Steve shrugs. ‘Yeah. I guess. I mean, I don’t spend almost every night cuddled up with anyone else.’Eddie’s mouth twists. ‘Usually not a job reserved for a best friend.’At first, Steve doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. Who else would you hold vigil with to watch the sun every morning? Who else would know all the secrets that only live in your sleepless hours? Then he realises he’s been single for too long.He huffs. ‘It can be. I guess. Not everyone….’Eddie nods with an air of disappointment, like it was an answer to a question he hadn’t actually asked. ‘Right. Well. If you want to try to sleep, I’m, like, wide awake right now.’Steve thinks about stretching out across the seats, letting his head fall into the soft valley of Eddie’s blanketed legs. He imagines trying to fall asleep like that, letting the quiet of the night surround him, feeling the rise and fall of Eddie’s breaths above.‘That’s probably not happening, either, honestly.’‘Okay,’ Eddie says. ‘We can just… sit here, I guess.’It’s not like it was before. The silence holds weight this time. Suddenly there are too many things unsaid, instead of nothing that needs to be spoken aloud. The weight of Eddie in his lap is new, different than just his head pillowed there. Steve has no idea where to put his hands. They keep wanting to creep up and wrap around Eddie’s waist, but the thought of feeling his heat beneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt - Steve’s t-shirt - feels like putting his hands on a hot stove.‘So,’ Steve says after maybe an hour has passed, maybe only five minutes. ‘Are you really….’Eddie flinches. ‘Yeah,’ he says firmly. ‘I am.’Steve tries to think about what he was even trying to ask. ‘Oh. Okay. Cool. That’s cool.’He’s still not meeting Eddie’s eyes.‘Not everyone thinks it’s cool. Most guys like you wouldn’t.’ Eddie is studying him closely, trying to tease something out.‘Well I’m not most guys, I guess.’ Steve blinks. ‘I’m sorry, what are we talking about here? I mean, like, exactly?’‘Uh,’ Eddie says, fidgeting. ‘You know, me? What it says about me that I’m sitting in your lap wearing criminally small amounts of clothing, hoping you’ll get the hint? Which, obviously, you haven’t. I’m not sure if that speaks more to your own innocence or my complete lack of, like, appeal….’Steve laughs. ‘I’m not that innocent.’Eddie smirks. ‘You are about some things.’Steve reaches out, folds his fingers around Eddie’s hand in his lap. ‘And you’re not unappealing.’Their eyes meet. Things start to click into place for Steve. Things he has not wanted to name. And perhaps, in the dark stretch of space and time they exist in, they don’t need names. The glaring light of the sun will come soon enough and force the shadows out of hiding.Steve slides his other hand up into Eddie’s hair, lets his palm rest against his cheek, feels the soft catch of stubble against his skin. He pulls gently, and Eddie comes willingly, and then they are kissing. Eddie’s lips are soft and warm and hungry and Steve opens for him.Steve lets his other hand find a resting place on Eddie’s waist, and it’s as scorchingly hot as he’d predicted. Just skin, he thinks, just the warmth of another person like he’s felt so many times before. But this time he thinks it might leave permanent marks on his skin.Eddie just sits and kisses him for a while, hands in his lap, teasing, gentle, a lick across his bottom lip. Then he shudders and it’s like a dam has burst. Steve can feel the weight crash into him as Eddie leans forward, grabs Steve around the neck and the back of the head, and kisses him. There’s another tongue in his mouth and hot gasps create condensation under his nose and it’s messy and absurd and the most electric moment of Steve’s entire life.He slides one hand further into the soft mess of Eddie’s hair and lets the other squeeze tight around his waist. They’re panting against each other, noses bumping, sucking at each other’s lips, licking into each other’s mouths, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard. No one he’s ever kissed before has made it feel like a fight.Eddie rises up, parting their lips just long enough to awkwardly pivot and straddle Steve’s lap. He seats himself there, thighs squeezing tight against Steve’s, his shorts riding impossibly high and doing nothing to conceal his interest, and he sinks back into Steve, biting his lower lip and sucking at his tongue while his hands cradle Steve’s face with a shaking reverence.Steve’s hands slide down Eddie’s back and find the soft curve of his ass, and he lets his fingers sink into the flesh, just enough to leave marks through the thin nylon. He realises Eddie isn’t wearing underwear, just Steve’s own shorts, which must be riding directly against his dick. They both let out ridiculous moans at the same time.‘Fuck,’ Steve breathes. ‘This is so hot.’‘You’re so hot,’ Eddie says into the side of his neck. ‘Fuck, I’m going to come in your tight little shorts, Stevie.’Steve feels like a jumper cable has been attached to his body. He’s practically vibrating.‘What do you…. How should we…?’ He can’t seem to find the words as Eddie pants into his ear, licking the shell of it, one hand still in Steve’s hair with his rings tugging gently at the roots, the other rubbing up and down Steve’s chest, catching on the nipple through his t-shirt.‘Just fucking put your hand on me, Harrington,’ Eddie huffs.Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He brings one hand between them and cups it around the bulge in the front of Eddie’s shorts. Eddie whines and ruts into the pressure, throwing back his head so the light paints the column of his throat. Steve wants to bite it. There’s so little space between them that he’s brushing his own erection with the heel of his palm as he rubs Eddie through his shorts. He knows he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly, like a preteen looking at a porno mag. But it’s okay, because this is Eddie, and this is safe.Someone is keening and Steve doesn’t know who, but he feels the vibration of it in his throat. His breaths are short and shallow. Eddie’s hair tickles the sides of his face and his fingers dig painfully into Steve’s shoulders like he’s holding on for dear life.‘Fuck!’ one of them shouts.The rush of pleasure bites into him without warning, and he is crying out, pressing Eddie’s ass as hard as he can to create a chain of pressure between his dick, Steve’s hand, and his own spurting erection. Eddie follows before he’s even done, cursing loudly in a reedy voice as he thrusts into Steve’s palm in short, hiccupy jerks.They sit like that for a moment, panting, waves of pleasure surging in smaller and smaller peaks until it’s over. Eddie has his forehead against Steve’s, one hand bracing himself against Steve’s collar bone so hard it will undoubtedly bruise. Steve slowly removes his hand from between them, smells the musky aroma of their ejaculations, and wipes the sweat and stickiness that’s seeped through their shorts onto the bottom of his t-shirt.The fear curdles around the edges as neither of them speaks, and the chill of the night starts to creep back in. He can hear all the voices in his head, what they would call him if they knew what he’d just done, how much he’d liked it. How much he wants to do it again.He wraps his arms around Eddie, pulls him closer, buries his face into his chest to try to drown it out.‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Eddie says into the silence.Steve mumbles into his chest. ‘You know, you didn’t really have to do… all of this.’‘Not your thing?’ Eddie whispers into his hair.Steve pulls back and looks up at him. ‘No, I mean. It’s very much my thing. I guess. Yeah. But you didn’t have to. I would’ve… wanted to anyway.’Eddie gives him a soft smile. ‘So no more tiny shorts?’‘Oh, no,’ Steve says, looking down and running a finger under the piping along one hip, ‘these are definitely making a comeback.’Eddie looks down at himself. ‘After a very good washing.’Steve laughs. ‘Yeah, okay, after a very good washing.’They look up at each other, smiles stretched wide, eyes fluttering half shut with emotion. Steve taps a finger to the end of Eddie’s nose, dodges when he tries to bite it, lets Eddie collapse onto him in a fit of giggles as he goes snapping through the air after it.They end up rolled into each other along the full length of the seat, Steve’s arm around Eddie’s back to keep him from falling off, the other hand playing with the sleeve of his shirt as he feels Eddie relax into him.Eddie’s got his arms around Steve’s neck, face burrowed under his chin. His breath finally slows and his muscles let go. The sounds of their breathing fill the car and Steve feels a strange churning in his chest. Warmth and happiness and something suspiciously like love, caught in the torrent of what ifs and fears and doubts. But that’s a problem for the morning. The night belongs to them, and no one can disturb them here. Steve kisses Eddie’s head gently, inhaling deeply and trying to memorise the smell of his scalp beneath all the hair spray.This will always be theirs, he thinks, this soft place in the inbetween, where most people disappear into their dreams and leave the lovers to their own designs. They can always retreat here when the world gets too rough. Steve will always follow Eddie into the night, make a home with him here. The morning will come again, but for now, he drifts along in the bliss of peace and newfound pleasures.