[ It’s a topic Eddie will end up contemplating later as well, albeit in a different way. He’s convinced himself that here and now are kind of all he has, but he hasn’t forgotten that the same isn’t true for Steve. Steve still has a life and people waiting for him back home, if the opportunity to return were to ever present itself.

He remembers early on being told not without him. Steve wouldn’t go back alone. But that was half an eternity ago, and it feels cruel and unfair to still hold him to it. It would be like losing a limb at this point, sure, but Eddie won’t be the one to ask him to stay.

But he frets about that almost daily, and for one moment, he can put it on the back burner. Right now, he’s happy, truly happy, where he is and who he’s with.

At the mention of Dukes of Hazzard, he rolls his eyes and shoots Steve a haughty look, narrowed eyes and a scowl, as if he’s truly offended that his television-watching habits have been called into question. ]

Don’t insult me, Harrington. You know I have better taste than that.

[ As usual, his stony expression doesn’t last more than a moment. He breaks and he laughs, trying to relieve a little of his lightheadedness and ground himself once more.

Because as he looks around, looks at this beautiful, idealized version of home, a version that actually feels like home for once in his life, it really begins to set in that this is all for him. Of course it is; the two of them are the only ones here, the only ones who can truly appreciate this, but up until this moment, he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. None of this just happened. It was all planned to some degree, whether on the fly or days in advance. He’s not disappointed, not by a long shot. He’s overwhelmed in the best kind of way. ]

Hey, so…

[ He finally begins, twisting a lock of hair between his fingers in yet another clear display of nerves, but he can’t seem to form the correct words. He doesn’t even know what the correct words are. He knows he’s searching for an answer, confirmation that this is what he thinks it is, but he knows that if he opens his mouth, there’s no going back. There’s no putting the lid back on that box, no making things the way they were before, and if he’s totally wrong about all of this, that’s going to be disastrous.

But he can’t be all wrong, right? Eddie would move heaven and earth for his friends, but this feels pointedly different than using his own gas money to drive someone into Indianapolis, or constructing a Hellfire campaign specifically around one person’s character because they’ve been having a shitty time. He’s never bent the Horizon like this for someone, no one ever bent the Horizon like this for him, and no one has ever looked at him quite like this.

It would all be blatantly obvious to anyone else (and probably is blatantly obvious to everyone else), but this isn’t something Eddie has a lot of experience with, and it’s hard for him to know how much his anxiety and their time in the crater is coloring his perception of things. Maybe it’s all wishful thinking.

He tries again. ]

I, uh—

[ Nope. And again. ]

This has been—

[ Again, his word catch. He snorts at himself and his own inability to form words, covering his face with a hand and shaking his head, mumbling “Oh, Jesus Christ, get a goddamn grip” into his palm.

It takes a deep breath and pulling the bottle back for another swig, but he manages to center himself just enough to try again. It’s his turn to move closer now, to bridge the gap between them just a little more. He’s not so smooth about it, and their knees knock together just a little harder than Eddie intends.

Screw it. If it goes south, he can try to blame the alcohol. ]

Okay, man, so…maybe I’m way off base here, but, uh…this feels like—something? And if it’s not and I’m just wildly misguided, I, uh…I’m gonna need you to tell me I’m an idiot and break it to me real quick and clean. Bullshit-free, you know?