[ it isn't true for steve, but it also is. because the moment that he realized just how much he believed in that truth, that he said not without you and felt it deep within his bones and he meant it, things started to change. the people he knew here, the people who were his, that is what mattered. eddie is who mattered, and any concept that there might be a hawkins where he is actually dead, a hawkins that eddie might not return to, that isn't happening. that won't happen.
but that isn't really what steve is worried about. no- no right now his mind is elsewhere, on whether or not everything is too much. on whether or not eddie's frantic movements are part of his nerves or because he's actually really uncomfortable. if the entire purpose behind all of this is because steve has actually taken a social cue in an entirely incorrect direction and all of this is-
well. actually. his mind if on eddie, who shoots steve an offended look that isn't actually offended, and steve just kind of laughs - the sort of surprising, caught-off-guard sort of laugh that has his head falling back just for a moment. because they both know its fine, but also eddie's offense, eddie's laughter that follows, it makes all of this feel easy. makes steve feel like this can be easy, even if just for right now.
and everything feels... good. it feels okay. the world around them isn't real, even the memory it tries to evoke is shifted in a better direction, but steve feels like it fits. like it's reminding them both of what they share, of where they came from, even if the reality was something very, very different. eddie's version of hawkins is not steve's version of hawkins, up until that very end, and after the years they've spent in abraxas - for all of its nightmares, for all of its hellholes and magic and insane, unimaginable things - maybe that's okay. maybe the things they do remember about hawkins, Indiana, can be this idealized version instead.
this, he decides, can be their hawkins. and he thinks he's pretty okay with that.
which is right when eddie shifts the conversation, starts off with a hey, so... and steve freezes in place. or- rather, he doesn't really freeze, because this is kind of the direction of conversation all of this was going to lead to in the end, but his thoughts do - every suddenly - shift direction. just as his eyes do. before, they'd been on the scenery around them, on the little details that steve had almost wished he'd changed, and maybe he did change, and maybe all of it was fine. but with two words, and then two more, and then steve is watching as eddie goes from- well. maybe not relaxed, but goes from a different side of the sliding scale of happy and feeling good and feeling at ease to now fiddling with his hair, and glancing at steve and then very much not at steve and-
he can't help it. whether it's the way eddie covers his face in his hands or the fact that steve feels a little like he recognizes every micro-expression eddie is making, but this? this makes sense. even down to the way eddie grabs the bottle, the way he shifts closer - too - and their knees knock together. steve works hard to just listen, to watch eddie as he works his way through his words, and his thoughts, even when steve knows that this moment, this exact moment, is all the confirmation he really needed. he doesn't smile, not at first, but then eddie says something like wildly misguided and I'm an idiot and steve can't really think of much else. ]
Munson- Eddie. [ steve says, and waits for eddie's eyes to turn to him before he takes the bottle and sets it aside. there's a lot more cool and confidence to his movements than he's actually feelings, but that also feels like it's fine, because eddie is sitting right up against him and steve knows, officially, that they're both thinking... well. maybe not the exact same thing, but something close enough.
( clarisse, somewhere, is laughing. loudly, maniacally, and proudly, as she points at them both and calls them stupid. just as she should, probably, given how long it's taken them to get here. ) ]
You're not off base. [ he says immediately after, giving a small pause, just enough time for steve to catch eddie's eyes and smile. and maybe the smile is charming, maybe it's a little practiced, but it's also genuine. it's also filled with just enough nerves, just enough fluttering, and just enough attention to how steve's eyes flick across eddie's face. ] It's something. I mean- I literally took you on a date, dude. That's what this was supposed to be. And I wouldn't have done that if- yeah. Anyway, right now? I really want to kiss you. I am going to kiss you, if that's- if you're okay with it? Okay?
[ steve won't wait for very long - maybe just a widening of eddie's eyes, maybe a lack of the way he pulls away. it's not even a full second, before he's leaning forward to press their lips together, to slip one hand around the back of eddie's neck as he does it. just so that eddie, nervous and jittery and likely to pull away just because something is happening fast, feels steve there, too.
because steve wants to kiss him. so he does. and it's not some kind of memory, or some kind of distant future. it is right now, and he's doing it, he's finally doing it and it does feel like it's been a long time coming. ]
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but that isn't really what steve is worried about. no- no right now his mind is elsewhere, on whether or not everything is too much. on whether or not eddie's frantic movements are part of his nerves or because he's actually really uncomfortable. if the entire purpose behind all of this is because steve has actually taken a social cue in an entirely incorrect direction and all of this is-
well. actually. his mind if on eddie, who shoots steve an offended look that isn't actually offended, and steve just kind of laughs - the sort of surprising, caught-off-guard sort of laugh that has his head falling back just for a moment. because they both know its fine, but also eddie's offense, eddie's laughter that follows, it makes all of this feel easy. makes steve feel like this can be easy, even if just for right now.
and everything feels... good. it feels okay. the world around them isn't real, even the memory it tries to evoke is shifted in a better direction, but steve feels like it fits. like it's reminding them both of what they share, of where they came from, even if the reality was something very, very different. eddie's version of hawkins is not steve's version of hawkins, up until that very end, and after the years they've spent in abraxas - for all of its nightmares, for all of its hellholes and magic and insane, unimaginable things - maybe that's okay. maybe the things they do remember about hawkins, Indiana, can be this idealized version instead.
this, he decides, can be their hawkins. and he thinks he's pretty okay with that.
which is right when eddie shifts the conversation, starts off with a hey, so... and steve freezes in place. or- rather, he doesn't really freeze, because this is kind of the direction of conversation all of this was going to lead to in the end, but his thoughts do - every suddenly - shift direction. just as his eyes do. before, they'd been on the scenery around them, on the little details that steve had almost wished he'd changed, and maybe he did change, and maybe all of it was fine. but with two words, and then two more, and then steve is watching as eddie goes from- well. maybe not relaxed, but goes from a different side of the sliding scale of happy and feeling good and feeling at ease to now fiddling with his hair, and glancing at steve and then very much not at steve and-
he can't help it. whether it's the way eddie covers his face in his hands or the fact that steve feels a little like he recognizes every micro-expression eddie is making, but this? this makes sense. even down to the way eddie grabs the bottle, the way he shifts closer - too - and their knees knock together. steve works hard to just listen, to watch eddie as he works his way through his words, and his thoughts, even when steve knows that this moment, this exact moment, is all the confirmation he really needed. he doesn't smile, not at first, but then eddie says something like wildly misguided and I'm an idiot and steve can't really think of much else. ]
Munson- Eddie. [ steve says, and waits for eddie's eyes to turn to him before he takes the bottle and sets it aside. there's a lot more cool and confidence to his movements than he's actually feelings, but that also feels like it's fine, because eddie is sitting right up against him and steve knows, officially, that they're both thinking... well. maybe not the exact same thing, but something close enough.
( clarisse, somewhere, is laughing. loudly, maniacally, and proudly, as she points at them both and calls them stupid. just as she should, probably, given how long it's taken them to get here. ) ]
You're not off base. [ he says immediately after, giving a small pause, just enough time for steve to catch eddie's eyes and smile. and maybe the smile is charming, maybe it's a little practiced, but it's also genuine. it's also filled with just enough nerves, just enough fluttering, and just enough attention to how steve's eyes flick across eddie's face. ] It's something. I mean- I literally took you on a date, dude. That's what this was supposed to be. And I wouldn't have done that if- yeah. Anyway, right now? I really want to kiss you. I am going to kiss you, if that's- if you're okay with it? Okay?
[ steve won't wait for very long - maybe just a widening of eddie's eyes, maybe a lack of the way he pulls away. it's not even a full second, before he's leaning forward to press their lips together, to slip one hand around the back of eddie's neck as he does it. just so that eddie, nervous and jittery and likely to pull away just because something is happening fast, feels steve there, too.
because steve wants to kiss him. so he does. and it's not some kind of memory, or some kind of distant future. it is right now, and he's doing it, he's finally doing it and it does feel like it's been a long time coming. ]