a simple misunderstanding - pt two
Steve Harrington x fem!Reader & Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (SFW)
masterlist // pt one // pt three // Eddie Munson Masterlist pt 1 & pt 2 // AO3
Synopsis: So, Eddie and Steve both kissed you. Now what the fuck are you supposed to do? And why the hell did Eddie kiss you right after finding out you’re supposedly dating Steve? So, so many questions need answers.
Warnings: petite reader // no season five spoilers and no upside down // a dash of fluff but there’s a decent amount of angst here; pining, sooo many feelings, arguing, jealousy, stress, steve and eddie rivalry stuff; reader is going through it
Word Count: 8.8k
A/N: More :) I’m writing this as I post it and I have only a small outline of what I wanna do with this story so unfortunately I don’t have any tags/warnings to add for future parts. But as I know them, I will update :)
They kissed you.
What kind of complete and total bullshit was that?
The Rocky Road was eaten in tiny bites. Steve really loaded it up with extra whipped cream, extra chocolate sauce, a sprinkle of chocolate jimmies, and a cherry on top. One that was way off to the side as the whipped cream melted away and left the cherry in a sea of melted white with the bright red of the maraschino cherry intermixed.
Didn’t matter how many times you brought that spoon of ice cream to your mouth, the tingling never went away. The cold tried to numb it, but nothing could get rid of the sensation of both of them kissing you.
What the fuck were they thinking?
You glanced up at Steve. Your leg had started bouncing and hadn’t stopped since he’d gone up there to help a slew of new customers. The sundae was melting faster than you could eat it, but your appetite was completely obliterated by the butterflies in your belly. The man working frantically behind the counter to entertain the droves of people suddenly deciding they want ice cream wasn’t calming anything down. Watching him lean against the back, nodding along to whatever the customer was saying, giving them a crooked, slightly confused smile as they ordered something abhorrent to ice cream expectations.
Oh, god.
It didn't matter if you looked at the sundae, at the ice cream freezers, at the floor, the wall, back out into the mall, or even right at Steve. One blink, and you were thinking about Steve kissing you. Then next, you were back in that corner near the exit, back against the pillar, grabbing onto Eddie's coat as he kissed you.
Seriously, what bullshit was this?
Eddie made a move after finding out you and Steve were dating? Steve decided to say, what, say screw it, and kiss you after agreeing to play boyfriend and girlfriend to help out Robin? This was such bullshit.
Steve had tried to come over and talk to you about six times in the last hour, but he'd start coming over when a new customer would walk in. Or someone would leave, and he'd have to clean off a table. Or clean the scooper or fix the register.
There was no talking getting done.
And even if he’d made it all the way over to talk to you, you had no idea what the fuck to say. Did you tell him Eddie kissed you? Did you like Steve like that? The question made your tummy feel all molten, and that was a really fucked up answer from yourself. Because when you thought about Eddie kissing you, it was the same damn thing.
It was stupid, and it was bullshit, and it was way too much to think about when you were just supposed to be studying and helping out your best friend.
Going out to Starcourt and Scoops had seriously only been a passing awkward moment. Yes, you’d dressed up for it. But playing Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, well, it felt right to do that.
But would Steve have even made a move if the store had been empty when Robin and Vickie came through?
Would Eddie have made a move if he didn’t think you and Steve were dating?
Which…that asshole. If he actually liked you–like seriously liked you–why the fuck did he wait until he believed you to be with Steve? What jerky bullshit was that?
Oh, god. Come on, you thought.
You couldn’t be in Scoops. You couldn’t be anywhere. What you needed to be was at home, studying for a test, and not thinking about the two guys that decided on whatever weird whim was in the air to do some really fucky stuff. You had to focus on flashcards and not that a good handful of people thought you were dating Steve. That Steve kissed you.
That Eddie kissed you.
Gah!!!
Fuck it. Nope. You couldn’t be there. Sorry, Harrington.
You finished off what you could of the sundae, popping the cherry in your mouth and standing. The chair scraped against the floor awkwardly and loudly, and Steve perked up from the register, giving a customer his change back. Damn it. He looked about as panicked as you felt, but he played it just a little cooler. Which was annoying. Really annoying.
But he still ran his hand through his hair and muttered an apology to the last customer before running around the counter. You threw your trash away and left the sundae bowl on top.
“Hey, hey. Hey, are you heading out?” Steve asked, his hand finding your elbow just as you stepped back. Guess the small adjustment you made on your purse gave you away.
Oh, god. He was so pretty. He looked at you with so much concern that it was actually annoying. Oh, man, and his eyes were so easy to get lost in.
“I need to study,” you said so, so softly.
The second you said it, you knew what it sounded like. I’m not interested. And if you were going off how fast your heart was beating and how your hands reached out for that goddamn uniform, you already knew that wasn't true. But you couldn't think about it then. You couldn't just…. Your hands brushed Steve's, and you were holding them. Holding hands. With Steve. In the middle of Scoops Ahoy.
“We’ll talk, Steve. I promise. When you’re not busy and when…when I’m not also thinking about school and….” Oh, come on. His mouth was so pretty. You had to physically drag your eyes up from it like you were hypnotized. "Tonight was just unexpected, and I'm still reeling a little."
And Eddie kissed you, too.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Steve nodded. Sweet fuck. He ran his thumbs over the backs of your hands, and it was so fucking surreal. That light motion. That soothing, light motion that almost seemed like he didn’t believe that he was holding your hands. You’d never touched this much. Not like…hand-in-hand-wise. “I’ll call you, okay?”
You nodded.
Steve squeezed your hands, and you squeezed his.
Oh, damn it. You didn't even mean to. It's like your body had a mind of its own, and it was acting in an effort to torture you. Cause when Steve gave your hands that tiny squeeze, you stepped forward. Even when the customer cleared their throat loudly behind him, you both just leaned in and kissed again. A gentle, barely-there peck.
His hair brushed against your forehead.
Your knees nearly gave out.
“Call you tomorrow,” he muttered.
You nodded in a daze.
You didn't even register walking out to your car. The mall was a blur, the parking lot was a blur, and you plopped into your car and gripped the wheel in a blur. Starting the engine, backing out, getting out on the plowed roads–yeah. Yeah, you were a bit more with it. Driving slowly back home in that dress and tights that felt a little too tight, and staring at your hat and gloves on the passenger seat that you couldn't even remember wearing out to the mall.
Haha.
Fuck.
You stood inside your house, purse falling from your shoulder, jacket on the ground, boots dripping with snow. Your study material was still laid out in the living room. The fireplace called to be turned on, and warm throw blankets screamed to be wrapped up in. And everything…everything came rushing at you at once, and yet you just stood there. Your knees were so, so weak. Your stomach was fluttering and light. Your heart thrummed away like you'd just run all the way to the mall and back. And your mouth….
You could taste them both. Feel them both.
You were supposed to be studying for your test, and what were you doing?
The plush rug in front of the fireplace welcomed you and didn’t ruin your tights at your knees. The metal piece squeaked as you turned it on, the flames taking a second to come out full and hot. Shaky hands were held up like you were nearly frostbitten with an ache to warm down to your already burning core.
They kissed you.
“Oh, fuck,” you muttered.
You liked them both.
And the worst part wasn’t just keeping all of it a secret from Dustin, but you had to figure out what the fuck you were going to do about it.
Alright. So. Steve and Eddie both kissed you. Steve and you were playing pretend boyfriend and girlfriend that Eddie, Vickie, and some of the others thought was genuine. Eddie kissed you after finding that out. Steve kissed you to show you how little of a deal it was that people thought you two were dating. So, for the time being, technically, your answer was made for you then, wasn’t it?
People thought you and Steve were dating.
Steve kissed you.
You liked Steve.
So…. So you and Steve then…?
“Ugh." You stared out the kitchen window while attempting to wash your dishes from breakfast. All night. All freaking night, you were up thinking about it. Replaying the kisses. Replaying the smallest of moments. The leather in your hands. Steve's hands in yours. How they kissed you…. Eddie slumping away looking disappointed. Steve rushing over to kiss you like that was solving your dilemma when you had so much more happening beyond that.
It was complicated. Or maybe you were overcomplicating it? Or maybe you weren’t complicating it enough? Damn it.
Going to school with both of them, you couldn’t even draw a line about which one you knew longer. And no matter how hard you tried to sit back and dictate which one made your stomach feel even more molten or which one made your heart get all fluttery, nothing gave you an answer. Both made you feel like you were floaty and unreal.
Both made you stressed the fuck out.
Both made you nervous to look out the window to see Dustin riding off on his bike, thankfully bypassing your house. If he stopped by, you were in no state to play up anything casual.
But it really just came back down to the obvious, didn’t it? Circumstances made your choice for you. You and Steve were dating. He kissed you. He liked you.
So, then, it was…Steve.
You set your plate out to dry and chewed your bottom lip.
It was Steve.
A pretty solid choice made. That was that–yeah. You just had to wait for him to call, and then you’d talk it out, and then fake information would maybe turn real, and it’d all fall into an awkward, messy place. You just couldn’t tell him about Eddie kissing you.
And you just couldn’t think about Eddie kissing you.
Because even sitting back and looking over at the phone hanging on the kitchen wall, the inevitable call whispering against your ear, you still just thought about…Eddie.
Huh.
Well.
Huh.
You did your best to shake the thoughts away. But unlike all of Eddie's successful attempts on his practice sheets, you weren't earning any gold stars. Every study task you'd started last night was barely continued then. No matter how hard you started to focus, it only took a little wiggling thought to distract you. Be it last night or even every interaction you'd had with either guy prior. They came in, and they came to absolutely annoy the hell out of you.
Because if Steve and Eddie weren’t just acting on an opportunistic moment, that meant–presumably–that they’d liked you for a little while. And be that a week or a month, even just going back over the last few times you hung out…did that change anything?
Those stupid staring contests with Eddie. Those annoying moments where Steve kept stealing your ice cream. Every ride together. Every movie you watched. Every conversation. Every tutoring session.
Aggggghhhhh.
The shrill ringing of the phone ripped through what were supposed to be casual thoughts. But they ricocheted around the noise as they already had been in your head. Back and forth, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing until you were practically bouncing on your feet to answer the damn call.
Steve?
“Hello?”
Your heart pounded into the damn receiver–you knew it did.
“(Y/N), hey. Holy shit.” Robin. "I have so much to tell you about last night. Seriously, it was nerve-racking but also really, really great. I think I'm making progress, but I can't really tell, but that thing you did with Steve really, really helped. Thank you. Wow, really, no–thank you.”
You sank down onto the closest chair. It was such a strange feeling–the sudden relief that you weren't about to bear your soul–in some capacity–to Steve just yet, and the abrupt holy fuck feeling that hit you the second you heard Robin's voice. Because you weren't saying anything to her, were you? You and Steve hadn't talked. So as far as Robin knew, you and Steve had just faked it, and that was that.
She also didn’t know about Eddie.
“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Totally,” you said as calmly as you could. Unless she talked to Steve already? Playing the guessing game wasn’t worth it. It was safer not to assume. “I’m glad it went well. So you think Vickie plays for the same team?”
"Pretty sure. Just not really enough to be completely sure yet. But, uh, I had an idea I thought I could run by you as another option to work with, but it'd require your and Steve's help some more. I mean, we've sort of already committed to the lie, so I figured it'd be fine. But I was thinking about asking Steve if we could all go over to his place when his parents aren't there. Sort of like how we did when we first started working together. Then invite Vickie. And it'll sort of be like, you know, friends just hanging out, but also, if there's something more, then it'd be like a sort of double date. Since she thinks you and Steve are dating."
Oh. Ha. Haha. Well.
Well, actually.
“It just means you and Steve would have to keep pretending. If that’s okay.”
Technically, you didn’t know what Steve was thinking now that he’d slept on it. But you were going to talk to him later, so…so what would you have said if last night had gone totally normal? No Eddie, no kisses. Just helping your best friend out.
Damn it.
“Yeah, sure.” Especially if you and Steve actually ended up going forward with this. “If Steve’s down, I am. It might be too cold for swimming, though.”
"No, yeah, for sure. Okay, cool. Thank you so much. Alright, I'm going to talk to Steve at work. He's on his way to pick me up now. There was a callout, so he's covering. But I'll talk to him and let him know."
Oh, fucking great. That meant he wasn't going to be able to call you until after his shift, then. He sure as hell wasn't going to call you during.
God. You wanted to tell Robin about dingus one and dingus two both kissing you so badly. So, so goddamn badly. But you couldn’t. Not until you knew where things were going with Steve and whether or not things were going anywhere. Then you’d talk to her about all of it. The last thing you needed was to say anything too soon.
“Yup. Just let me know,” you said a tad shakily into the phone. Oh, god. “Talk later.”
“Yes! Talk later!”
The clunk of the phone being hung up brought silence with it. The kind of silence that burrowed into you while you stood with a hand against the wall, just staring at the phone that wasn't going to ring. What you would've given to be able to talk about what happened with Robin–fuck. What you would've given to actually have Steve call. It didn't matter how your stomach twisted into the urge to throw up; you needed to talk to Steve to really confirm that you two were going to give it a shot.
That your impending hangout with Robin and Vickie wasn’t going to be just totally faking it.
Or maybe it would be? Maybe he’d changed his mind?
Because then Eddie….
Damn it. You needed to talk to Steve to know why the hell he’d kissed you. Explicitly. Because you also really, really needed to know why Eddie had.
You trudged back over to the kitchen table. The weekend plans of studying until your brain hurt and powering through until you were in the clear for your test next week were supposed to just be that. No distractions. No wandering thoughts. And no goddamn idiots making you lose your mind.
The sun got higher in the sky until it peaked and started to head toward the horizon.
Somewhere along the way, you wound up watching Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will ride back to Dustin’s house under the early evening sky. No call from Steve. You probably wouldn’t get one until tomorrow.
Your leg kept bouncing. Your eraser actively turned into flakes of itself as you kept bashing it on the table. The quick beat of your heart had your pulse slipping into your head and giving you goddamn palpitations.
You had classes tomorrow. A shift at Benny’s that you were going to go in and do for some extra cash. Steve wasn’t going to call before the next day. And as you sat there repeatedly glancing at the unringing phone instead of your notes, despite how you left things yesterday, you couldn’t help it–Eddie hadn’t called either. Did he just…have nothing to say? Seriously?
Based on how Dustin didn’t come barging over, it was safe to assume he kept his word–and subsequently, he got everyone else not to say shit. But Eddie kissed you. Really kissed you. And then just nothing.
Goddamn it.
You glanced back outside. Your car glinted in the streetlights that were gradually flickering on.
Goddamn it.
You were hauling on your coat before the thought even finished. Did you know if Eddie was going to be at home? Fuck, no. But your heart was racing, and your stomach was hurting, and you were gripping the steering wheel so hard that it hurt.
Someone had to give you answers.
Someone had to fucking explain why they kissed you.
You knew the route like the back of your hand. You’d gone over enough when you were tutoring him to know every other way to get there. Knew the small dip before your tire hit the gravel road. How the neighbor’s dog liked to bark at every car that pulled in. And that the other car tucked right next to Eddie’s van wasn’t Wayne’s, but Jeff’s dad’s.
Damn it.
Should you just drive by? Turn around?
Confronting Eddie when everyone else was there was so not a good idea. Especially when last night was so damn fresh. But….
But, goddamn it, you really needed to talk to one of the idiots about it. He’d kissed you. He fucking kissed you.
You put your car into park on the other side of Eddie's van. Stopping now was just going to make you lose courage and steam. The first time you'd met Eddie–like actually sat down to tutor him and not just sat near him in class–you'd been nervous. It'd never really been a thought that he'd be some dangerous asshole. But just being alone with the guy, even in the school library, was nerve-racking.
This wasn’t that. This was…yeesh. Your hand was shaking when you went to knock. Don’t lose steam. Keep going. Talk to him.
You knocked as loud as you could to make sure it was heard over the music blaring from the other side.
Knock, knock, knock.
Nothing immediately.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!
The front door flew open, making the storm door rock on its hinges. Your hand was mid-knock when Eddie’s annoyed scowl looked back at you. Unchanging. Not even a fucking flinch of entertainment in seeing you there. He just flicked his eyes over you from head to toe in your very well-put-together outfit of the sweats you’d been wearing to study in and a really puffy coat.
“What?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms and looking at you like you’d killed his dog or something equally as heinous.
What? Jesus, you could’ve laughed. Oh. You were. It boiled over breathy and without much strength, but holy shit, Eddie. Seriously? Standing in front of him, it’s like you broke into two different versions of yourself. The one completely taken aback by his just plain audacity of being mad that you showed up. The other that was suddenly, totally, and unexpectedly nervous because you were standing in front of him, staring at him, staring at that fine line of a mouth curving into a frown that’d just kissed you twenty-four hours ago.
“Can we talk?” you managed to force out.
“About?” Eddie shot back. He tilted his head and started a brand new staring contest. One that screamed at you to drop it. Or at least that’s what it felt like he was trying to accomplish. The big, scary, disinterested guy. “If it’s about you and Harrington, I already told you, we’re not going to tell Henderson shit, so I don’t know what else there is to talk about.”
Asshole. You scoffed. So he was just going to pretend that he hadn’t kissed you? You didn’t bother trying to hide it when you looked at him like the complete prick he was being. IT stung. Why it stung so much, well…. Steve hadn’t called.
You crossed your arms and lost the game, looking out over the rest of the trailer park for something easier to look at. But the neighbor’s dog was barking so goddamn loud and the music was thumping against the walls. Fuck, and it was so goddamn cold.
Why did he kiss you? Why did he kiss you? Why the fuck did Eddie kiss you?
"I doubt Harrington would be happy knowing you're over here after last night; he might get the wrong idea about you and me."
Wow. Wow. You laughed dryly. Jesus Christ, Eddie. Was it just about their stupid rivalry? Did he just kiss you because he thought you were with Steve, like seriously, that was it? Or was he just being an ass to be an ass?
You scoffed and shook your head a little.
“I didn’t tell Steve.”
Four words that felt way more weighted than they should’ve. You didn’t fucking tell Steve because you didn’t even know where you two stood. Were you actually going to date? Was it all a big mistake from a fucking attempt to help Robin? Goddamn it, Steve. He was supposed to call you. What the fuck were you supposed to do in the meantime?
Eddie's brows furrowed, and he straightened.
Damn it. Maybe you should just go to Scoops? Drag Steve into the back? But then you risked Robin figuring it out before you and Steve even had a chance to do that for yourself. So, then what? Damn it. Damn it, Steve Harrington and damn the timing of everything,
“Five minutes.”
Wha–?
Eddie reached out for the storm door. Oh, wait. Fuck. You had to step back abruptly, nearly falling down the damn stairs to avoid getting hit with it, and before you could do more than catch it to keep it open, Eddie was reaching out for you. He got you by the sleeve of your coat to haul you inside himself. Right into the den of beer and cigarette smoke. The couch was full of the losers glancing over at you like an intruder had just barged in.
But you didn’t get to do much more than look at them.
Eddie brought you right back to his room. You staggered when his hand freed you, damn near falling onto his bed when you turned around to see him kicking his door shut. Always with the staring contests. Those annoyed brown eyes flicked over you, and his brows furrowed, and he just looked about as frustrated as you felt. So it was mutual, at least.
“You didn’t say shit to Harrington?” he said, taking slow strides through his room. To you. His arms crossed and chin dipped just enough to see you while you had to look up to see him.
You didn’t break the staring contest, but Eddie was standing close. As close as he’d been last night. And him dragging you back there…you were losing steam.
“No, I didn’t,” you stated.
Because why the fuck would you when you didn’t know what the hell was going on either?
“Why the fuck not?” Eddie shook his head. His eyes did a little flicker over your face that made your heart start to beat just a little faster. Goddamn it. He was standing really close.
What a goofy question. You just turned that bafflement onto Eddie and shook your head. Was he fucking serious? No, like actually, Eddie…?
You scoffed again.
“Eddie, I don’t even….” Words were getting caught in your throat. They jumbled together and spun and tangled. Gah. “Last night, you….” And Steve and him and the fake dating and the kisses. “I don’t know why you kissed me!”
Eddie’s jaw clenched real fucking tight, and his eyes did that narrowing thing like he was trying to see through some deception. But there were no dice to roll to let him know. If there were, you would’ve taken them and tried your damnedest to use them for yourself with him. And Steve. And all of this bullshit.
“Does it matter?” He stepped around you, bumping your shoulder with him. Just a little nudge that knocked you back a step. You followed him as he walked over to his guitar. His reflection showed him looking back at you despite reaching over to run his fingers over the strings. “You’re with Harrington. End of story.”
A deep breath didn't really do much. But his words pretty much solidified it then, didn't they? A fine, unrelenting pinch started in your chest. Right where your heart was starting to thump against your sternum.
You swallowed hard.
“So you just kissed me to stick it to Steve or something?”
The cold still clung to you. That was the only reason you sniffled. It was fucking freezing even back in there. But that could’ve also been because of Eddie’s cold shoulder.
Eddie dropped his hand. The music out in the living area was so fucking loud. The lyrics were nonsense, but the bass thumped just like your heart.
Eddie turned just enough to look back at you.
“Yup,” Eddie stated. Blatantly. And your stomach, your chest, the knot in your throat–fine. Fine. That made it easier, right? You were going to talk to Steve tomorrow, and it wasn't going to be this battle of who you liked and what you were supposed to do. Eddie just gave you the best answer he could've.
“You’re an asshole,” you muttered.
The problem with that answer, though, was you didn’t want to look at him or…or think about him…or really be around him. He just got pissed that Steve did something or…or whatever the fuck it was about Harrington that got under Eddie’s skin, and he wanted to fuck with it. You were the means. Which meant he really didn’t give a shit about you then.
You were going home. Fuck that.
Better to be wallowing in your studies than there with a guy you’d thought was at least a semi-decent friend.
“Why didn’t you tell Steve about it?”
You stopped mid-turn. Staring at the doorknob, your feet felt like bricks. It was such a stupid question, but one…. You closed your eyes and sighed. One that knocked on your head incessantly. Because, to Eddie, you were dating Steve, and another guy kissed you, and you didn't say anything. Another guy kissed you and, for some unbeknownst reason, he wasn't bringing this up, but you did kiss him back.
And you didn’t say shit about it.
You didn’t have an answer for him. Not one that wasn’t anything more than a simple because.
So, you had to lie. Right? Not saying anything was pretty damning, so then…what? Why wouldn’t you tell Steve? Because it was pointless? No. Because it didn’t matter? Ouch, to Eddie. But he was being an ass to you. Because if you and Steve were dating and he found out Eddie kissed you the day he found out….
“Because it’s annoying enough dealing with your shit with Henderson,” you said softly. “I really don’t feel like worsening it because you decided to screw with Steve using me.”
Eddie’s chest expanded on a very, very slow breath. His hands found the back of his hips in the most Steve Harrington pose ever. Jesus. They really didn’t realize how alike they were, did they?
“Yeah, shit really might get complicated if you tell him, cause if he asked me about it, I’d have to tell him you kissed me back, and that could get really fucking awkward.”
You didn’t hear the music anymore. It was just a light ringing in your ears. That fucking asshole. He…. He kissed you to screw with Steve. He…. He didn’t…. You wanted to scream it at him that it was fake with Steve all up until that real kiss at the end that you were still so goddamn confused about. Wanted to smack him in his stupid, smug face like he'd pulled one over on you. But you couldn't. You couldn't say a goddamn word about it to him without risking Robin's secret.
So what were you then? A really bad girlfriend or a really bad friend or someone with a crush on two people in a fucked up scenario?
So, so badly, you wanted to just tell Eddie to go ahead and tell Steve. Go for it. But there was Steve taking it as Eddie kissed you while you were pretending to date Steve, and then there was having to keep up the ruse no matter what happened with you two. And who the hell knew what Steve would do with that? Committing to help Robin was always going to be the top priority, and if one or both of them walked away with a black eye or any evidence of a scuffle….
Gah!
“You’re an asshole,” you breathed. Fuck him. Just fuck him. You sniffled again, and it was a little more than the cold that time. “Tell Steve if you want, I don’t care. But you’re an asshole for doing what you did, and we both know that you know it.” You finally turned for the door and yanked it open. “Don’t talk to me for a while, Eds.”
God, you wished you could blame the absurd amount of cigarette smoke inside the trailer for why your eyes burned and stung. Why you had to wipe your hand across your cheeks before more than just Jeff and Gareth looked your way. The rest of the group with semi-familiar faces glanced at you, but you just went right for the front door, yanked it open, and went for your car.
It was the best answer you could’ve got besides a simple I don’t know. If Eddie had said that he had no idea why he kissed you, great. You wouldn’t feel so used as you climbed into your car and hauled ass out of there before anyone could see you crying over that asshole. But he just….
It was stupid.
It was so, so goddamn stupid. If he just hadn't been at the goddamn mall last night, it would've been fine. You wouldn't have kissed, you'd still be friends, and Vickie would be the only one who knew that you and Steve were together, and then it wouldn't even be so complicated with Steve. Or maybe it would be, maybe Steve would've kissed you, and then you'd just be faced with that. Processing that without Eddie in the picture was easier.
So he really did give you the best help then, didn’t he?
Fuck it. Fuck it. If Steve wanted to take it beyond fake dating, sure. He could be a dingus, but he made you laugh and smile, and you had fun hanging out with him, and he was so goddamn good. There’d been a single, terrifying moment when Robin told you she came out to Steve Harrington of all people, and you thought you were going to have to go toe to toe with him over it. Because if he’d done even the small thing to screw her over…. But he hadn’t. He’d bent over backwards to do the opposite.
God.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. Staring at your ceiling that night, your test looming, classes waiting, your shift at Benny’s taunting you–you really just wanted to scream.
Idiots.
They were both really, really annoying idiots.
And one had you crying over him, and the other had you waiting by the phone all night.
You rolled over and forced yourself to go to sleep. It was better than losing sleep over them all night. What wasn’t better was rolling over and dreaming of the idiots. Didn’t lose sleep, really, but dreaming about them was the next worst thing.
It didn’t hit you until the next morning that you’d practically broken off your friendship with Eddie. When you were sitting in class and taking notes, it really hit you that you were basically dating Steve Harrington, with the exception of changed plans if you ever got that phone call. So, really, you were in this weird sort of limbo state as you waited tables at Benny’s that afternoon, going through the motions to take orders, refill drinks, and bring plates out.
The ache to talk to Robin about all of it was growing. The fact that you hadn’t given Dustin his gift yet mocked you as the coward you were because seeing him meant you might fuck up and do or say something that gives away the rest of the mess you were dealing with. And, blatantly, you weren’t at home to get any call from Steve. But he knew you were working today. Probably. If he remembered.
It was only a five-hour shift, so you'd be home by six. Steve was working the early shift at Scoops Ahoy anyway, so you'd be able to talk later that night. So through the mess of the shift, you had to do your damn best not to fuck up any order because you were trapped in this quad of avoiding Dustin, feeling betrayed by Eddie, wanting to tell Robin everything, and not knowing what waited for you during your phone call with Steve.
“Hey, do you mind staying an extra hour?” Benny asked as he chopped up onions to toss into the burger meat. “Jenny’s babysitter can’t come for another hour.”
Shit, you couldn't say no to Benny. Even if it meant missing Steve's call. Besides, there were still a few hours left in your shift, so maybe luck would come through, and she'd get there on time.
"Sure, yeah. Of course, Benny." You rummaged around the shelves for more ketchup. You kinda spoke on autopilot without meaning. But you were tired, and despite not wanting to admit that you had cried, you were still groggy from it.
“Hey, kid, you okay?”
Burgers sizzled on the grill behind Benny.
“Mhm,” you answered, barely meeting his gaze. “It’s from bullshit, it’s fine. Shout if you need me.”
He nodded and went back to cutting the onions.
You’d worked at Benny’s off and on since freshman year of high school. Washed dishes for a bit, then moved on to serving. Wasn't anything you could call a full-time gig, but Benny always threw you a shift when you asked. Usually, it was about three a week–more when classes were out, and sometimes it was one or none when you needed to really hunker down and prep.
Which meant he’d totally understand that you wanted to kill yourself when you walked out into the front and saw Marty pointing a familiar-faced group toward one of your tables.
Life really wasn’t giving you a fucking break, was it?
Dropping off the ketchup bottle to Mr. Madison over at the bar, you almost grabbed Flo on her way to refill her table’s coffee to switch with you. But she’d dealt with the idiots plopping into the corner booth more than enough to say that they were your friends, you would serve them. Goddamn it. If you hadn’t been in the back getting the ketchup, you might’ve seen Eddie’s van pull in, and then you’d have known to tell Marty to seat them in Flo’s section, and you’d spend the rest of the shift covering the rest of Flo’s area as a thank you.
Fuck. If it'd just been Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and them, that actually would've been way easier to deal with than this bullshit. But it was Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike all smushed into the booth. All expecting free fries and a free drink or two, and you really, really didn't have it in you to pretend that everything was totally normal.
You and Steve weren't fake–maybe real–dating. Eddie hadn't kissed you, and you definitely hadn't just fought last night. You definitely hadn't cried over him. And you definitely weren't freaking out over a phone call from Steve that you were probably going to miss by covering for Jenny.
So you barely managed to plaster on a small smile and strolled over.
“I’ve had a long day, so please just tell me what you want and don’t annoy me,” you said, not even giving the table a look until you had your notebook flipped open and pen in hand.
“Wow, so nice to see you too,” Mike said with just enough sarcasm that you contemplated bopping him on the head with your notebook.
“Yeah, ouch,” Dustin added, putting his hand over his heart. “I thought we were your favorite customers.”
Inadvertently, you gave Eddie a look. No the fuck they weren’t. He barely hid the contempt. You didn’t really care to hide yours. You were tired, your head hurt, and if they weren’t so absorbed with their group, they might’ve had the chance to notice that the bags under your eyes weren’t just from exhaustion.
God. And there you were, back to thinking about the fact that you'd simultaneously lost your friendship with Eddie and cried over the asshole.
“Any other day,” you muttered, looking over at Lucas to give you something to write down. “Work with me here.”
Lucas, bless his heart, answered with the best thing he could’ve.
"Give me a Coke."
And that managed to kickstart everyone giving you their drink orders. You looked up for everyone but Eddie when he gave him, and that was just going to give shit away. Dustin would meddle so hard if he found out something had gone down with you and Munson, so you just threw in a quick glance at the end before going off to get their drinks.
Why did they have to come in today?
You kept your back to them as you filled the glasses and just sighed.
Why did Eddie have to be with them?
It was an answer you didn’t care to get when you went back over, tray in hand, drinks balanced on top. The cherry on top of the non-Scoops Ahoy sundae would’ve been spilling the drinks all over them, but luck was on your side a little. You managed to disperse them without spilling.
“Alright, so besides the free fries, what can I get you?”
Again, you stood pen in hand and notebook open.
“You’re all business today,” Dustin said. It was partially a joke that you could’ve quipped back at, but you just gave him a very, very tired look over the top of your notebook, and he held up both hands. “Alright, alright. Jesus Christ, a cheeseburger, please and thank you.”
You scribbled it down and went around the booth to get everyone else’s options. Last and definitely least, you got Eddie’s without looking up. He ordered the same as Dustin.
“It’ll be out in twenty,” you stated, probably a little too coldly. But you were so tired. So done. You went to the back and passed the orders off to Benny and the other chef, Thomas. “Throw in some extra fries? They’re friends.”
Benny nodded. Thomas already started frying them.
Normally, when they were in Benny's while you were working, you'd find time to go plop down at the table and bother them as equally as they were bothering you. But you decided to make yourself busy instead. Cleaning the front counter, checking in on your other tables a bit more frequently than you normally would. Gave out some free refills before their drinks were even close to halfway finished.
Then, you spent the rest of the time topping off the ketchup and mustard bottles at an empty portion of the counter. Just had to wait for Benny or Thomas to ring the bell, then you just stepped back, plucked up the done plates, and brought them over to the table without really saying much.
They knew. You weren't hiding that something was up. But at that point, all you really had to tell Dustin was that you were tired, and he had to drop it. You were allowed to have bad days without anyone questioning you about them and bugging you until you spilled all the details. You were allowed bad days.
At least they all had their meals. Flo brought you more bottles to refill after a while when your other tables had left, and that corner booth was back to their regularly scheduled program. Laughing, throwing fries at each other, almost wrestling in the booth over something stupid.
“You’re way less cheery than normal about those idiots being here,” she said, shoving the bottles your way. “Did you finally come to your senses about how annoying they are?”
You closed the top on one ketchup. Jesus, Flo. And you gave her a tired look.
“Jesus, fine. Sorry. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Normally, it wouldn't bug you that they were hanging out for so long. They already ate slower because they were talking in between bites. But even when they finished their plates, and you dropped the check off, they were still screwing around. It'd been about an hour of you trying not to focus on their conversations in the background, and it was an hour you were failing.
And after an hour, of all people they sent up to the register to pay, you looked up from refilling the pennies to see Eddie leaning against the counter. He just handed you the cash. You took it wordlessly. Cashing out the order, it was hard to ignore the fact that he was staring at you.
“Dustin’s going to notice if–”
“Dustin knows you can be an asshole.” You counted his change in hand and then back into his. His rings scraped the counter as you did so, the backs of your fingers barely touching his palm. “Just tell him that.”
Eddie closed his fist around the cash, and you tried to just carry on with the typical receipt-saving muscle memory. Putting it on the spike by the register, making sure the register drawer was closed, and then thanking the customers for coming in. But when you spiked the receipt, in your move back to the register, you caught Eddie's gaze, and damn it, it hurt.
He squeezed the cash and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. You really, really wanted to tell him to just fuck off, but customers were coming in and out, and Marty was welcoming people, and the others were still back at the table, so clearly peeking over to look at you guys.
Did you want to talk with Eddie? Yes. No. Maybe? Not really. Just looking at him pissed you off. You didn’t really go about hiding that fact either, and Eddie seemed well aware of it, too.
“Fine,” he said firmly. “Whatever.”
“Great.”
That was great. That was really, really great. At least you’d just about gotten rid of your Eddie problem for the day. One that shouldn’t have even been there, but hey, the world wasn’t done with you yet. Not even slightly.
The world had a wonderful curveball to throw your way.
“Uh, hey.”
One of the customers Marty let by came right up to the counter. To the register. In that goddamn Scoops Ahoy uniform. And he cleared his throat a little awkwardly as he leaned against the counter and looked at you, then Eddie, and then looked really, really screwed because he saw Dustin peeking out of the booth.
“Steve,” you breathed. Horrible, horrible, horrible timing.
Had your heart stopped? It felt like your heart stopped. Oh, god. You were going to lose your mind. Fuck. Damn it, Steve. Seriously? Seriously?
"Robin mentioned you were working," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I figured coming by was better than a phone call." He looked first at Eddie, who just had the blankest of annoyed expressions as one could. And then he was back to looking back at the table. "But I totally screwed the timing because here comes–Henderson!”
Steve held out a hand and practically gave Dustin the space to come walking up to. He hugged Steve for about half a second before he turned to look at him, you, and Eddie all suspiciously.
“Whaaat the hell is going on over here…?” Dustin asked, crossing his arms and looking amongst you all suspiciously.
God. Damn. It.
Guess it was Steve’s turn to show up with horrible timing, as sweet as it was. And despite the times that he could be quick on his feet, this apparently wasn’t one of them. He opened his mouth with an um, held up a hand to give an explanation, and came up with nothing. Just nothing.
Jesus Christ, Steve. You bugged him at work all the time. He bugged you at Benny’s when he was in the area. The fact that he came in when Eddie was there didn’t mean anything other than it was a coincidence.
"Steve, just sit at the counter," you said, rubbing your temple. "I'll get you your fries and Coke."
Steve tapped the counter right next to the register. Right, the move said silently. And he made a show of slowly plopping down on the creaky stool.
“Wow, no, I’m just surprised you two aren’t at each other’s throats, really,” Dustin said, pointing between Steve and Eddie.
“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugged.
You gave him a Coke and caught the knowing look he gave Eddie. Horrible timing. Really horrible timing. You threw Eddie one of your own. Don’t say shit. Please don’t say shit. He owed you after yesterday, and he’d given you his word that he wouldn’t say shit to Dustin. So–
“Yeah, well,” Eddie said back with a finality that made your chest ache.
He stepped past Dustin and leaned right into the spot between the register and Steve. Steve actively leaned away, annoyance all over his face without any care to hide it. The stool creaked, but you were hyperfocused on Eddie reaching over to tuck a few bills into the front of your apron. The exact same way he had in your jeans at the bookstore.
His smile almost looked genuine.
“C’mon, Henderson. Before all the ladies start flocking to Steve in that killer outfit. Wouldn’t want to get trampled.”
His voice was so dry.
He was fishing into his pocket, where you knew he kept his cigarettes, without going back to the table. The jingle of his keys was loud, really, really loud despite the jukebox playing Journey.
“Alright, one sec,” Dustin said after him. He was already fishing for his wallet. “Can you make us some milkshakes to go? Three chocolate, two vanilla. Extra whipped cream.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, sure.” Whatever got them out of there faster. “Give them a few.”
You shared a look with Steve before giving the milkshake orders to Benny and Thomas. A peek through the order window showed that you were shit out of luck to talk with Steve yet. Dustin had plopped onto the stool next to him. An incredibly romantic gesture that was completely sidelined because of the bullshit timing of Dustin and Eddie being there.
Completely ruined by the ache in your chest because of Eddie.
Goddamn Eddie.
You took out a full trash bag while the milkshakes were being made. The cold air swirled the second you stepped out. Slush and snow crunched under your boots and swirled up under your jeans and sweater. The apron dug into your stomach a little, but you did your best to ignore it as you chucked the trash into the dumpster.
Just a corner away from the typical smoking area.
You didn’t want to talk to Eddie. At all. But Dustin was hogging Steve, and the milkshakes were going to take a bit, so….
You poked your head around the corner. Eddie had his against the side of the diner. Eyes closed, entire body back, cigarette burning down at his side.
"They're going to be an extra few minutes. Dustin ordered everyone milkshakes," you said.
For as easy as it could be to scare Eddie, he didn’t jump when you spoke. Just cracked his eyes open and turned his head just enough to look at you.
“Okay.”
Okay.
You tapped the corner and nodded.
There was a split second there. You gave him the chance, you really did, if he wanted to say something more. But Eddie only parted his lips for his cigarette. So you went back inside.
You shoved the to-go cups at Dustin. A sixth one was all whipped cream. A basket of steaming, fresh fries was dropped in front of Steve. You pushed a bottle of ketchup over with them, too.
“Thanks,” Dustin said. He elbowed Steve playfully. “She’s in a shit mood today, so make sure you tip well.”
You gave Dustin an annoyed smile. It stayed until he and the rest picked up their milkshakes and left. The second the door closed behind them, your smile fell, and you dropped against the counter. You stole a fry as Steve took one.
“You do look like shit,” he said. As if that was even remotely one of the smart things to say then. “I mean, shit. No. Sorry. I just….” Steve pushed a hand through his hair and squeezed the roots. “I wasn’t expecting them to be here, and I screwed that up, and I screwed up yesterday by not calling, and if that has anything to do with you having any kind of bad day today, I’m sorry.” He sighed, leaning over the counter to get closer. Way, way closer. His hand brushed yours, and for a second, you almost pulled back. “When is your shift over?”
“Hour and a half.” Your heart was thumping, thumping, thumping away. “I’m covering for Jenny until she gets here.”
Steve nodded. “Mind if I hang out until then? I am actually starving, so I can eat while I wait.”
He was going to wait the rest of your shift out? Seriously?
Oh, damn him. His lack of calling definitely contributed to some of your ill mood, but the look he gave you through his lashes was downright criminal. Some of the weight lightened. And part of that had to do with the fact that his fingers did more than graze yours.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Um, what can I actually put in for you to eat?”
“A patty melt with extra pickles?”
You nodded. “Sure. I’ll have it out for you in just a few minutes.”
Turning to hand the order back to Thomas through the window, you caught the back of Eddie’s van as he sped out of the parking lot. The pit in your stomach was back, but you shoved it way, way down. Eddie used you and screwed with you for his own interest. That was it. Steve was there to turn nothing into something. Or at least talk about it, right?
Yeah. Steve showed up. Steve apologized. Steve wasn’t a fucking asshole.
He got a gold star.
The smile you gave him was the first genuine smile you’d had all day.
Jenny had better get her ass in as soon as possible. You had a conversation you needed to have with Steve.
