he's my best friend || a dean & eddie one shot for @hellfirelives
--- they were out by the picnic tables, the ones half rotted and carved up with band names and crooked pentagrams. monday sun beat down like it had something to prove. dean leaned back against the bench, sleeves shoved up, watching eddie smoke himself into oblivion.
the chevelle was parked crooked at the edge of the lot, primer gray and loud even when it was off. it looked like dean. like it didn’t belong there but refused to leave anyway.
eddie hadn’t stopped talking all morning. rambling about nothing. movies. dnd. a riff he couldn’t get right no matter how many times he played it.
then he went quiet. really quiet.
dean shifted, knee bumping eddie’s under the table. “you gonna tell me what’s eatin' you or should i start guessin'.”
eddie laughed, sharp and nervous, eyes fixed on the tabletop. “i gotta tell you something.”
dean straightened and moved closer without thinking, forearm brushing eddie’s. familiar. easy. “okay.”
eddie stared at his hands like they might betray him. “i’m i think i’m in love.”
that got a pause. not shock. just attention. “yeah?” dean asked.
eddie nodded, breath hitching. “and it’s not a girl.”
eddie finally looked at him, eyes wide like he was bracing for impact. dean knew that look. knew what it cost to say something like that out loud. especially to someone who looked like him. broad shoulders. rough edges. all american enough that nobody ever really questioned him. but dean didn’t say anything. he just reached out, quiet and deliberate, and hooked two fingers into eddie’s belt loop. a steady weight. an action that spoke louder than words, or so he hoped. his thumb pressed once at eddie’s hip as if encouraging him to continue.
eddie exhaled again, still shaky. dean could all but feel the nerves radiating off of him. “it’s steve harrington.”
dean let out a low huff of a laugh, more breath than sound. his mouth curved into a knowing smile as he dipped his head. “yeah,” he breathed out softly. “that tracks.”
eddie blinked. “you’re not shocked?”
“not even a little. i’ve got eyes.”
he had seen the way eddie lit up at family video. the way he leaned too close over the counter. the way steve smiled like he didn’t mind one bit. dean had clocked it weeks ago. he just hadn’t known if it meant anything. eddie had always been touchy. always intense. hell dean had always been touchy with him too.
“he kissed me,” eddie said. it was quieter this time. heavier.
dean’s eyebrows lifted anyway. “he did?”
eddie nodded fast like if he slowed down he’d lose it. “we were messing around. being idiots. wrestling. talking shit. laughing too much. he was trying to steal my rings and i was trying to stop him. it... got out of hand.” he hesitated, then added, voice dropping, fingers curling in his hair like he was hiding behind it. “next thing i know he’s in my lap. making out with me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”
dean blinked, huffed out a laugh, and then his gaze dropped without him meaning to. eddie’s fingers were still decorated like always. the winged hog. the fanged skull. but the cross was missing. the heavy one with the little skulls worked into it. the one eddie never took off. dean straightened a little, curious. “hey. where’s your cross ring?”
“don’t,” dean huffed quietly. he wasn't letting eddie out of this now that he started it. “the one with the skulls.”
eddie’s ears went red. he cleared his throat and glanced away, those big brown eyes unable to stay on dean's bright green. “he distracted me.”
dean’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. amused. “with a kiss.”
eddie nodded. smaller now. “yeah...”
“and he ended up with the ring.”
another nod. deliberate. “yep.”
“you didn't get it back?”
eddie shook his head. “no. i let him keep it.” then quieter, almost shy. “i just didn’t expect him to still be wearing it when i left on sunday.” he peeked at dean through his hair like he was waiting for commentary.
dean just stared at him. that ring wasn’t subtle. it was eddie distilled. loud. heavy. unmistakable. the kind of thing you didn’t wear unless you meant it. then dean laughed. full and real.
eddie stiffened, jaw tightening somewhat. “what?”
“it's nothin' bad. promise.”
“you’re laughing. that’s usually bad.”
dean shook his head, still smiling. “no man. i’m laughing because you’re so in love with him it’s kind of gross.”
“affectionately,” dean added. “but jesus. you let him walk around with that ring? that’s not a crush. that’s bad.”
eddie shoved his shoulder. “shut up.”
the laughter faded between them easing into something a little quieter and comfortable.
“his parents home?” dean asked, curious if eddie had to deal with meeting the harringtons.
eddie shook his head. “never are.”
dean thought of steve watching the kids while he was working at family video. the way dustin gravitated toward him like it was instinct. thought of empty houses. of learning too young how to take care of someone smaller than you.
“guess you’ve got a type,” dean teased lightly. unable to miss the comparison. “pretty boys with too much responsibility.”
eddie snorted, eyes rolling. then he hesitated, sobering a bit before he spoke. “you’re not weirded out?”
dean looked at him. really looked. saw how scared he was. how careful he’d been with this part of himself. he stood and pulled eddie into him without hesitation. eddie gasped, then folded into it like he’d been waiting for permission. dean’s arms locked around him, solid and sure. one hand spread between his shoulder blades, the other curled into his hair.
“ed,” dean said quietly. “i get why you’re scared.” eddie nodded against him. “but nothing about this changes you,” dean continued. “you’re still eddie. you’re just more... honest.”
eddie’s hands clutched his jacket. “i didn’t know how you’d take it,” he admitted. “you’re always...”
dean huffed. “an asshole?”
eddie laughed, shaking his head. “yeah. but that’s not what i mean.”
“dean...” eddie said softly.
and dean knew. hawkins was a small town. eddie had experience. guys like him didn’t always get trusted with things like this. eddie choosing him wasn’t small. it was everything.
dean cupped the back of eddie’s neck, thumb warm and steady. “you’re my best friend,” he said. “the only one.” eddie swallowed. “nothing’s gonna change that,” dean added. “not who you love. not steve harrington. not the fact that he’s an ex jock party boy with stupid good hair.”
eddie laughed, exhaled, something like relief.
“you love who you love,” dean said simply. “and i’ve got you. always.”
they sat back down shoulder to shoulder like they always did.
dean didn’t tell eddie where he went after school. he grabbed his jacket and his keys and let the chevelle rattle its way across town, parked crooked in the family video lot like he always did. he didn’t rush inside. he watched through the glass for a moment. steve was behind the counter laughing about something robin was saying. dean had seen that laugh before. had seen the way eddie leaned toward it like gravity was involved.
and then he saw it. the ring. eddie’s ring. bold and silver and unmistakable on steve’s hand like it belonged there.
dean exhaled through his nose. okay.
the bell jingled when he walked in. robin lit up. “oh hey--!” steve turned with her, smile already halfway there. it dropped a notch when he really looked at dean.
dean didn’t smile. he walked straight up to the counter, slow and deliberate. close enough that steve straightened without meaning to. “steve harrington,” dean stated, maybe a little more firmly than he intented.
“yeah?” steve asked, guarded.
dean’s eyes flicked to the ring. back up. “you got a minute?” it wasn’t really a question. robin took the hint and vanished.
“if this is about a late fee...” steve started.
“it’s about eddie,” dean cut in.
that landed. steve crossed his arms. “figured.”
dean studied him. not the hair. not the reputation. the stance. the way his thumb brushed the ring like it was second nature.
“he’s my best friend,” dean stated bluntly. then quieter without meaning to, “the only one i’ve got.” steve blinked. “i don’t make friends,” dean pushed on. “eddie just happened. but i've been here and i watched the way he started talking about you. little stuff at first. then not so little.”
steve bristled, defending himself. “i’m not messing with him.”
“didn’t say you were.” dean took a breath. he didn't want this to get out of hand. but he wasn't backing down either. “hawkins is small,” he continued. “and you’re steve harrington.”
“yeah,” steve snapped. “i know who i am.”
“do you,” dean asked, nodding toward the counter and the windows. “because you’re wearing his ring. here. where anyone can see it.”
steve stiffened. “yeah. i am.”
“you know what that looks like?” dean asked.
“i’m not ashamed of him,” steve fired back, thumb brushing the ring again.
“good,” dean said simply. “because if you were that ring wouldn’t be on your hand right now.”
steve exhaled hard, eyes rolling as his arms tightened across his chest. “what are you his guard dog?”
ah, there it was. yeah, he'd heard about that harrington bitchiness. but even in the face of it dean didn't hesitate. “yeah. maybe i am, harrington.”
steve scoffed and muttered, “...jesus christ.”
“he didn’t ask me to be,” dean clarified. “i just am.”
steve shook his head. “you think i don’t care about him?”
dean watched him carefully and then nodded toward the ring. “you kept that.”
steve lifted his hand, the action almost defiant. “because he let me. because i wanted to.”
that wasn’t posturing. that was honest. dean’s jaw unclenched. “nice ring,” he said deliberate and knowing.
steve hesitated, then quieter. “yeah. it is.”
steve met his eyes and it was easy to see his earnest honesty. “i am.”
a longer pause and then dean smiled, and stepped back a little. “good,” he said. “because if you hurt him...”
“i won’t,” steve cut in immediately.
dean studied him again, then nodded. “okay. then we’re done here.” he turned to leave, stopped for a second. “for what it’s worth,” dean added without looking back. “he’s gonna pretend this doesn’t scare him.”
steve snorted softly. “yeah. i noticed.”
dean smirked and the bell jingled as he left. out in the parking lot he finally let himself breathe. eddie was in good hands. and steve harrington knew exactly what he was holding. but if he messed it up, dean would be there.
