Archive of Our Own

It’s been three weeks since they defeated Vecna, and Robin is trying to get him to ask out Nancy again.

There’s a phantom hand over his mouth. It belongs to his father, his mother, to Tommy Hagan and Nancy Wheeler and every girl he’s ever dated. Most of all it’s Steve’s own, keeping everything he’s too scared to say inside.

It’s more terrifying than he ever imagined. Robin’s told him what it was like for her, but he underestimated the fear that sinks deep into your bones. The knowledge that you’re in danger in a way you weren’t before. It’s like he’s walked a tightrope all his life, and fell off only to realize they removed the net. It’s weird to realize he’s always thought of the girls he dated as safe.

In a way, Nancy was the safest of them all. Ambitious enough that she couldn’t devote all her time to him. Distant in a way that was familiar. Someone he genuinely liked enough to want to hang out all the time. Sex was a rare thing, which he’d always painted as for her benefit after their first time ended so badly. I can wait until you’re ready, he said, and then avoided it at every opportunity. Eventually, she stopped asking.

He wants to laugh at how stupid he’d been back then. Was she supposed to live like that for the rest of her life? Bang out a half-dozen kids she didn’t want with a husband who had convinced himself he was in love with her? Of course she saw right through it.

Nancy calling it all bullshit hurt, but most of all it hurt because Steve wasn’t ready to admit it was true.

“Steve? You okay?”

He blinks at Robin, and quirks his mouth into a little half smile, ready to brush her off. It dies on his tongue when he realizes she’s studying him.

He doesn’t know what he expected when she rounds the counter and flips the sign, pulling him into the Family Video bathroom. Extra disgusting, because he’s one of the people who cleans this bathroom and knows it’s definitely not as much as it should be. It’s comforting all the same, facing Robin on the floor, hands wrapped around his knees.

“Why are we in here?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs. “Something told me it was a Bathroom Conversation.”

They’re fundamentally creatures of habit, him and Robin. They have all of their most important conversations on the bathroom floor. Usually at one of their houses, now, but they’ve had a couple at Family Video. He doesn’t know how she knew he needed one, doesn’t know what tipped her off to the fact that this was important enough for that. She just knew.

He loves her more than anyone in the world.

More than he could love any other woman, he realizes with a slightly hysterical giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s…I don’t know, Rob. I don’t know what’s going on in my head.”

“Is it about Nancy?”

He grimaces. Shrugs. It’s not not about Nancy.

“What is it?”

“I…” He wets his lips. Robin just looks at him, waiting for him to speak. Quiet like she never is until he needs it. Until he has something he can’t bear to say out loud.

It’s too much. The phantom hand squeezes tighter.

Suddenly, horribly, he sniffles.

Robin’s eyes get wide and panicked. He never cries, not until he’s drunk or concussed and coming down from the adrenaline high. After all, crying is for pansies and—

Well. Maybe it suits him after all.

“Robin.” His voice cracks, and she’s at his side in an instant. Hands moving over him, trying to find out what’s wrong, who’s hurt, but no one is hurt. No one except Steve’s entire sense of identity. “Robbie, I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” she tries to soothe. “Steve, it’s—it’s okay! We’ll fix it. Wh-whatever it is, we can fix it.”

It’s feels like a stab in the gut. He knows she doesn’t mean it like that, that she doesn’t know, but all he hears is that he needs to be fixed and it’s awful.

She must see his face twist, because she corrects herself. “Or not! We don’t need to fix anything, there’s nothing to fix. We’ll get through this, I promise. I’m right here. I’m right here, Steve.”

She’s right here. He takes a breath, tries to remember how his lungs work. “You’re with me?”

“I’m with you,” she confirms. “I’m always gonna be with you. Soulmates, remember?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah. Soulmates.”

They sit like that, breathing together, until they both calm down. She holds his hand tightly all the while. The hand over his mouth loosens in turn. It’s just Robin. It’s him, and Robin, and a piece of himself that she would never judge him for.

It makes him brave enough to speak. “Girls,” he croaks, and stops.

“Girls,” she echoes, squeezing his hand encouragingly. “Is there…someone you have your eye on?”

He shakes his head. “I was wrong,” he repeats. Her brow furrows.

“Wrong about what?”

“I’ve never-it was all a lie. Every girl I've ever liked, I was lying.”

“Oh. Okay? So you never loved Nancy like that, is that what this is about? That’s okay—“

She cuts off when he shakes his head again, violently. This is on him. He knows to be blunt by now, knows she doesn’t do well working around the point. But right now, he really needs her to pick up on context clues. “Robin,” he pleads desperately, meeting her eyes. “I don’t— I need you to understand. I can’t say it. I don't know how to say it. Robin, please, I can’t…”

He can see the moment it clicks for her, sees her realize exactly what he’s confessing here. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, curling in on himself. “Oh.”

“Okay,” she blurts out. “That’s okay! Everything’s okay. I’m here for you. I love you, nothing can ever change that.”

“Even if I was lying when we bonded over what girls we thought were hot?” He asks. He’s too pathetic right now to pull the joke off, but Robin huffs a laugh anyway.

“Yeah, Dingus. Even then.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Is it weird?”

“Not gonna lie, I’m shocked,” she admits. “Not weird, never weird, it’s just—it’s not both, right? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Not both,” he confirms. “I thought about it, but…”

“You’ve always been such a ladies man.”

“Girls are just…they’re easy. Safe. It’s fun, I guess, but it was something I had to do. I mean, sometimes I couldn’t even get it up, you know?” He usually avoids talking about his actual sexual encounters with Robin, but he’s starting to wonder if what he thought was him being considerate may actually be because he’d been avoiding thinking about it at all. “Like, I’d get whiskey dick after two beers or something, or no matter what I just wasn’t in the mood. I mean, I was usually fine. All sex is sex, right? Sometimes it’s just what you have to do to make a girl happy or whatever, and then it’s over with until you have to do it again.” That’s the opposite of what he’d been told, but it’s what he had decided to believe. If it was true for girls why shouldn’t it be that way for guys too, right?

Robin stares at him with her mouth hanging slightly open. There’s a million emotions playing out across her face, and each one hits him like a bullet to the gut. He knows that when he says it out loud it sounds obvious, which is why he’d never, ever said it out loud.

Finally, she licks her lips. “So, a million dates with no home base was the solution?” She asks tentatively, unsure if the joke will land.

He has to laugh at that. “Exactly,” he agrees, and she relaxes.

“I knew there couldn’t be something wrong with every girl in Hawkins.”

He sighs dramatically. “Yeah, turns out the girls were fine, I’m just gay.”

He blinks.

Robin is watching him softly. “That the first time you've said it?”

“I…” he licks his lips in a mimicry of her. “Yeah, I guess it is. Holy shit.”

“I’m proud of you,” she tells him, squeezing his hand.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“That’s fine, we’re in the perfect place for it.”

He grins at her, strung out and exhausted and happy. He’s so lucky, so fucking lucky to have her.

“Sorry for trying to convince you you were in love with Nancy,” she says sheepishly. He shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I would probably be in love with her, if I was normal. I should be in love with her.”

“Nope.” Robin shakes her head. “There’s no should be’s. If I shouldn’t be in love with you, you shouldn’t be in love with her.”

He sees the logic, even if he’s not sure he believes it yet. It just feels like it should be different when it’s him. Some weird double standard he knows is wrong but can’t help.

“It would be so much easier, if we could just…be in love,” he says instead. “Or—I’m not saying you should be in love with me. I don’t want you to be in love with me. I just wish I was in love with you, because…”

“I know, Dingus,” she says. He knows she does, because his words are an echo of hers. I wish I could be in love with you. I wish I wasn’t like this. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

He smiles at his knees, shaking his head. “‘I don’t want you to be in love with me. I just want you to be Robin.’”

She squeezes his hand. “Exactly.”

They sit there quietly, comfortable in their silence. Finally, Steve breaks it. “It would be easier, though. If we could just…get married. Live our lives not worried about,” he waves a hand around, “all this.”

“It would, wouldn’t it,” Robin muses. There’s a new light in her eyes, and he almost asks about it before she stands up. “Well, that was a good conversation! I feel like I need a hundred showers now. Remind me why we always do these conversations in bathrooms, they’re so gross.”

“Well,” he says, taking the hand she offers and hauling himself off the floor, “in 1985, there were these Russians under the mall…”

They leave the bathroom laughing, and Steve feels lighter than he ever has.

Four months after he comes out on the floor of the Family Video bathroom, Robin sits him down on his bed.

“Okay, I’m gonna suggest something completely insane, but I’ve actually put a lot of thought and research into it and I need you to hear me out.”

Steve squints suspiciously at her, but shrugs agreeably. “Yeah, okay.”

“We should get married.”

Oh. Huh. Wasn’t that an idea.

“Sure.”

“I know it’s crazy, but it makes sense to me because neither of us can get married for real and—wait, what?”

“I said sure. When are we gonna do it?”

Robin gapes at him. “Uh. Now?”

He takes a minute to think about whether he has anything going on this afternoon. The kids need to be picked up at eight, there’s still seven hours until then. Plenty of time to go to the jewelry store, the courthouse, and sign paperwork. Plus a celebration dinner at Enzo’s or their favorite diner. He nods and starts pulling on his shoes.

“I wasn’t being serious!”

“Oh.” He looks down at his shoes, slightly disappointed. “You weren’t?”

“Of course I was joking, we can’t just stroll up to the courthouse and demand to be married!” She waves her hands around manically, before a contemplative look passes over her face. “…can we?”

“I mean, I’m free for the next seven hours. Kinda thought we could go to Enzo’s after.”

“Enzo’s tastes like shit,” Robin declares, because her palette is completely and utterly unrefined. “Take me to the good diner, with the milkshakes that make you feel like you’re orgasming.”

“Orgasming,” he repeats, agast. “Like you know what an orgasm is.”

She smacks him. “I have hands, dingus! We’re getting super off topic. Are we actually doing this? Like, actually?”

He shrugs. “We can wait, if you want. I’m down for whenever.”

She scrambles to her feet, eyes wild. “Seriously? I thought you’d need at least a week. I, like, completely sprung this on you with no warning. You’re not going to tell me I’m crazy?”

Of course he isn’t. It’s Robin. Robin, who runs her mouth on about every fucking thing and can’t keep a secret from him to save her life, save this apparently. Confident, funny, flustered Robin, who knows everything about him and kept him anyway. He doesn’t think he’ll ever love anyone more than he loves her. The same amount, maybe, if he’s lucky, but never more.

He doesn’t need time to think about it. He doesn’t need to wait until they’re older. What’s the point? She’s the only woman he’d ever marry.

“Why would I do that? Being married to you would be awesome. It makes sense, too. Can I have your last name?”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world,” she informs him happily. “I love you so much. Obviously you’re taking my last name.”

He beams at her, and she bounces away to get dressed.

“What should we tell the kids?” He asks, going into his bathroom to do his hair.

“Why do we have to tell them anything?”

”There’s no way in hell I’m keeping this a secret from Dustin,” he says, aghast. “He’d kill me. He’d find out, and then you’d be widowed not even five days after our wedding. Do you want me to die, Rob?”

“Then tell them we got married!” Robin replies from deep in his closet, throwing his clothes everywhere. She better plan on cleaning that up. “What’s so complicated about it?”

“Yeah, but we’ve been telling everyone we’re not dating for a year. You know Dustin is going to pitch a fit. What if they start asking if you’re pregnant?”

“Ew,” she says as she comes into the bathroom, wrinkling her nose.

“Exactly,” he agrees.

“I dunno, tell them it’s none of their business. Or for tax benefits.”

He considers the hairspray in his hands as Robin starts brushing her teeth. “Maybe I’ll tell them about me,” he says slowly, and she chokes around the bristles.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I’ve, uh, been thinking about it for a while. I wouldn’t say anything about you, obviously, but… I dunno, I want to tell them. I feel like they’d be okay with it. They won’t say anything shitty in front of Will, at least.”

He’s pretty confident about that. He’s seen the way they’d slowly stopped asking Will about girls over the years, the glances among them and the quiet acceptance he wasn’t sure Will registered. Rallying around him like a defense squad whenever he was called names in hallways. Events Steve only knew about because Dustin would loudly swear about close minded assholes on the way home.

And God help anyone who did say something in front of Will. Mike Wheeler alone was a festering ball of guilt and rage just waiting to explode, never mind the sister who can kill people with her brain. Or the older brother who taught Steve the concept of “talk shit get hit.”

He’s less nervous of them being homophobic than he is of their reaction to Steve specifically being gay. The entire town thinks of him as a ladykiller. What if they think he’s lying?

Robin spits. “They’re good kids,” she agrees fondly. “Don’t tell them I said that.”

“Of course not.”

“If you're sure,” she finally says, searching his eyes. He gives her a small smile in reassurance.

“I’m sure,” he promises.

“I can’t be there for it if you do it tonight. I’ll need to tell my parents I got hitched, reassure them I’m not pregnant, and possibly come out. I don’t know.” She taps her fingers on the counter nervously.

“Do you want me to ask Eddie to drive them all home? I can do it another day.”

“Nah,” she says. “You tell the twerps about you, I’ll tell my parents about me, and if it goes badly for either of us we’ll pack our bags and move to like…Chicago or something instead of the apartment.”

He frowns at that. He doesn’t want to leave Hawkins, at least not for a couple years. Plus, they already put a down payment on that apartment. Still, if it comes to that, they gotta do what they gotta do. “Deal.”

They shake on it, and Robin uses the hand she’s holding to drag him towards the door.

“Wait, Rob, my hair—“

At seven-thirty on the dot, he knocks on the Wheeler’s door.

“Oh, Steve!” Karen exclaims when she opens it. “I thought you were coming at eight. The kids are still downstairs.”

“Hi Mrs. Wheeler,” he smiles sheepishly, heart in his throat. He rubs the back of his neck with his right hand, sticking the left in his pocket to hide the brand new ring. Nothing against Karen, he just doesn’t want to spend the next half hour awkwardly dodging her questions. “I’m early, sorry. Didn’t have anything else to do so I figured I’d wait.”

She smiles, beckoning him in. “Of course, of course. You know you’re always welcome, Stephen. I know Mike is…well, he’s certainly going through a phase, but Nancy and Holly are always glad to see you.”

He’s pretty sure Mike’s “phase” is just “I know you had sex with my older sister and I’ll never forgive you for it,” which Steve privately thinks is hilarious. Jonathan doesn’t get the same treatment. Apparently it’s different when you catch the guy red-handed trying to sneak into her window.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler, I really appreciate it,” he says, ignoring Ted’s narrow eyes from over the top of his newspaper. He swears he’s never seen that man move anywhere except from the armchair to the dinner table and back again.

He escapes to the basement before Karen can try to drag him into conversation, shutting the door firmly behind him and taking a deep breath. He thumbs the ring on his finger, closing his eyes and imagining Robin is there with him. He knows that she’s doing the same thing, four blocks away.

Even if he loses everyone, he’ll always have Robin. The thought fortifies him enough to make his way down the stairs.

They’re in the middle of a fight when he gets to the bottom. It’s just the kids and Eddie, thank God, the Corroded Coffin guys have been too busy with either college or senior year preparation to play much. Erica is missing too, and he vaguely remembers hearing something about a sleepover with Tina.

That’s fine. As smart and capable as she is, she’s still twelve years old. How old was he when he found out being gay wasn’t just an insult for liking flowers? Probably older than she was when they’d brought her into this mess.

That thought sends him reeling. Should he tell Erica he likes boys? She’s been in a Russian lab. She’s seen him tortured. She’s helped fight otherworldly monsters twice now, surely she’s old enough to know gay people exist. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to leave her out. If she finds out the others know something she doesn’t, there’ll be hell to pay.

He sets that thought aside for later. She’s not here, sitting around the Wheeler’s basement with the rest of the nerds. He needs to focus on the here and now, or he’ll never get through this.

Everyone looks up when he clears his throat. He waves nervously. “Hey guys.”

“Hi, Steve,” they chorus. Will, Lucas, and El wave back.

“Harrington,” Eddie greets with an easy grin. It makes his stomach swoop in ways that he doesn’t want to name.

“How’s your game?”

“We’re in the middle of a boss fight,” Dustin grins. “My character is kicking ass.”

“I died,” El says solemnly. “My new name is going to be Elena.”

“Not Elenore again?”

“Max says I should have variety.”

“It’s good for you,” Max says. She’s sitting between El and Lucas, glasses on and character notes written in Lucas’s neat hand. Steve has no idea how they got her to finally play, but he suspects El had something to do with it.

Mike looks between Steve and the clock, frowning. “What are you doing here so early?” He demands. “We still have thirty minutes.”

Here goes nothing.

“Robin and I got married,” Steve says. “Also, I’m gay.”

Eddie fumbles the figure in his hand, and it falls with a clatter. No one even flinches, too busy staring at Steve in shock. He raises his left hand, displaying his ring, and wiggles his fingers with a weak smile. “Uh…surprise?”

“You got married without me?” Dustin screeches, at the same time Lucas asks, “You’re gay?”

“Yes, and yes,” he says. “Sorry, Dustin. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing.”

“Does Robin know you’re…gay?” Dustin blinks, finally seeming to register the other half of Steve’s confession. “You? Gay?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the one who told me how to talk to girls! Your advice got me Suzie! You can’t be gay.”

Steve shrugs, unable to explain himself for that one. He did teach Dustin how to flirt. Talk to a girl, ask her out, either the night ends well or it doesn’t. He had the added benefit of being athletic and hot, so it wasn’t exactly rocket science. He spent most of the time looking for girls who didn’t seem like they’d like him so he could have a bit of a challenge. Finding something wrong with every date he’s scored since Nancy because he wasn’t ready for commitment but he had to go out with girls or people might think something was wrong with him.

Ugh. The more he thinks about this, the more he thinks he should have realized a lot sooner.

“If you’re gay, why did you date my sister?” Mike demands.

“I obviously didn’t know yet, Wheeler, calm your britches.”

“How do you not know you’re gay?”

Steve ignores that question.

Max raises a hand. “Why did you marry Robin if you’re gay?”

“Well it’s not like I can get married for real, and we’re going to be together our whole lives anyway,” Steve shrugs again. “Might as well.”

“What about Robin?” Lucas asks.

“She’s the one who suggested it.”

They’re still asking him questions, so fast he can’t parse them out before they move on, but they fall silent when Will gets up and wraps his arms around Steve.

“Thanks for telling us,” he says quietly into his shoulder. He’s trembling in Steve’s arms. “It…I know it’s…it’s probably hard. To say.”

This fucking kid. They haven’t interacted nearly as much as Steve has with most of the others, isn’t so much Steve’s kid as four he went into the tunnels with, or even Erica. He and El aren’t wanting for an older brother, Jonathan filling the role better than he ever could. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t squeeze Will tightly, nosing into the awful bowl cut.

“It gets easier,” he assures him. “I had to tell Robin in a bathroom in case I threw up. This time, I’m bathroom free.” Even though it’s objectively more terrifying, coming out to the kids and Eddie all at once.

“Ew,” Max says, and slaps Lucas’s arm until he helps her hobble over and she can wrap her arms around him as well. Lucas does too, and then Steve blinks and he’s covered in a pile of kids, all taller than they should really be allowed to be. Even Mike is there. He looks over their heads at Eddie, who smiles and gives him a thumbs up. That’s a relief.

“I’m still mad,” Dustin mutters. “Not that you’re gay, that you got married without me there.”

“Yeah, what the fuck, Steve,” Max says.

“Sorry,” he says. “In my defense, it really was spur of the moment. Like, after she asked we went straight to the jewelry store and then to the courthouse. We found a random couple on the street to be our witnesses.”

The kids migrate back to the table, still asking a million questions. He answers them with as much grace as he possibly can.

“Are we gonna get to see her pretty ring?” El pipes up, possibly for the first time. She hadn’t said anything after Steve’s confession. He’s not sure El even knows what being gay is. He figures she just joined the group hug because she likes hugs. “Joyce says the girl always gets a pretty ring.”

“Not always.” They’d stuck with simple bands, since there was no engagement to speak of. “It’s usually for the one who’s getting asked, and she asked me. If anyone gets a pretty rock, it’d better be me.”

“I’m still stuck on why you didn’t know you were gay,” Mike says. “Isn’t that something people are supposed to know?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes…” he sighs. “Sometimes when you grow up hearing about how being gay is weird and unnatural and for freaks, you push that shit down and date girls and make sure people think you like it. Including yourself. Especially yourself, because maybe if you convince yourself you like girls then no one can sniff you out and try to kill you for being who you are.” He looks at Mike’s pale face, and regrets his words. “Sorry, that…I could have worded it better.”

“It’s okay,” Max says quietly. “We know it’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, it is,” he grimaces. “So I don’t have to tell you guys that this stays between us, right? No telling your parents, or your siblings, or your friends.” Do they even have other friends? That one may be useless. “Or girlfriends,” he adds, making pointed eye contact with Dustin.

Dustin pouts.

“We’re not stupid,” Mike complains.

“Good! Then put that brain of yours to use and zip it.”

“I guess it makes sense.” Lucas has his chin in his hand, scrutinizing him. “You did wear a lot of lip gloss last summer.”

Eddie chokes.

“Lip gloss doesn’t make you gay, stupid!” Mike exclaims, swatting him on the back of the head.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“You wore lip gloss?” Dustin asks, mouth dropping open. He keeps forgetting that Dustin was gone for pretty much half of that summer, he didn’t come back until July. Missing an entire month of Steve applying tinted chapstick in the mirror before getting rejected in progressively worse ways, until he told a lesbain he was in love with her.

And then married her a year later. Sucker.

“It wasn’t lip gloss,” Steve protests. “It was chapstick.”

“Very red chapstick,” Max says. “You told us it was so you had soft lips for the ladies.”

“Okay, fine, you caught me. It was tinted. Happy now?”

“Do you still have it?” Eddie asks, something manic in his eyes. Steve frowns at him, bewildered.

“I ran out,” he says. “Also, it wasn’t doing me any favors. I think I only started getting dates again when I stopped wearing it.”

The kids all get the same contemplative look on their faces. “Maybe the lip gloss was a little gay,” Mike says slowly, like he’s considering the words as he says them.

Lucas throws his hands up. “Exactly!”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says. “You’re all such dipshits. Why do I tolerate you?”

Eddie slinks up to him, moving behind Steve so he can hook his chin over his shoulder. “You’d be doing me a favor if you wore that lip gloss again, big boy,” he murmurs into his ear, before cackling and prancing away up the stairs. Steve is left frozen, ears burning red and mouth half open, for all the kids to see.

“Oh my God,” Dustin says, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Steve points at him in warning, then points at everyone else to dissuade them from saying anything.

“Don’t,” he warns, even though he’s definitely giving himself away. “Whoever I’m driving had better get in my car now. Lucas and Max, do you need help up the stairs?”

“We’re good,” Lucas promises. He bends his knees so Max can jump onto his back, and hefts her up. El grabs her crutches and walks behind them, on alert in case they start tipping over on their way up the stairs.

The first time Steve saw them do it, Lucas tripped and he almost had a heart attack before El caught them. By now, it’s routine enough that El doesn’t even need to be there anymore.

Eddie’s waiting for them when they make it outside. He wanders over to Steve’s side, seemingly nonchalant, but there’s still enough daylight left to see that his cheeks are pink.

“So,” he murmurs, “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington?”

“Buckley,” he corrects. “Stephen Buckley, now.”

“Taking her last name, huh? And eloping without telling anyone? Very new age of you.”

Steve snorts. “Everyone’s going to think we had a shotgun wedding. Imagine their faces when they realize she’s not pregnant.”

“I can hear it now. Sharon at the post office telling Brenda from the PTA all about how you made that Buckley girl get rid of her baby and married her to keep her quiet.”

Eddie grins at Steve’s braying laugh. “Seriously, though, sorry for pushing you about the whole Nancy thing. I get why you lost it on me now.”

He grimaces. He did kind of lose it on Eddie a couple months ago. It was some time after he told Robin, when he was still coming to terms with being gay and what it meant. Back when he still wished he was in love with Nancy.

Eddie had sidled up to him one day as he watched her walk to her car, heart in his throat. He hated that he couldn’t love her, hated that he couldn’t just be normal—

“You know,” he said, quietly enough that she wouldn’t hear. He had to lean into Steve to do it, and the touch burned in a way he was all too familiar with. “I heard she broke up with Byers. If you’re going to do anything about that, now’s your chance.”

Something in Steve snapped.

“Would you stop?”

Eddie reared back, startled.

“How many times do I have to say I’m not interested?” He demanded. He wasn't even really talking to Eddie, more to the nebulous concept of everyone telling him to shoot his shot. They didn’t realize Steve wasn’t even on the right court. “I don’t want to date Nancy. I’m not in love with Nancy. I don’t even like—“ he snapped his mouth shut before he could say something catastrophic, like girls.

Eddie stared.

Steve deflated, running a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie said tentatively. “Do you…need to talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about? Nancy and I aren’t getting back together. I don’t think I was ever really in love with her, just the…idea of it, I guess.”

Eddie’s eyes seemed to pierce into his soul, and Steve wondered if he’d fucked it. If he revealed too much, if Eddie would take the accidental slip and run with it. “The idea of it,” he echoed. “Gotcha. I’ll leave it alone then.”

And he did.

Now, Steve groans. “It wasn’t-I wasn’t mad at you,” he promises. “Myself, maybe. The general concept of having dated the perfect girl and not even being the kind of person who could really be with her. But not you.”

His face splits into a wide smile. “Well that’s a relief. I’ve seen you pissed off, I’d hate for it to be at me.”

“When have you ever seen me mad?”

“Well, let’s see, there was that time you literally ripped a hell-bat apart with your bare hands.” Steve shoves him, and he cackles. “That image keeps my bed warm, Harrington! How’s a man to cope?”

“Not a Harrington,” he corrects, face flushing. He’s glad Eddie isn’t acting any different now that he knows about the gay thing, though. It was something he was worried about, that he’d lose him and the easy camaraderie they’d built. The flirting’s just a joke, he knows that, but it’s still fun and makes him feel warm inside. He knows it’s going to end badly for him, but it’s fun in the meantime. Like drinking too much and knowing that the hangover will be killer, but taking that next shot anyway.

They corral the kids into their vehicles. Lucas leaves with a wave, since house is only two doors down from the Wheeler’s. El is staying the night at Max’s, so she follows her in Eddie’s van. Steve takes Will and Dustin.

“Alright, I’ll drop off Henderson first, then Byers. That alright?”

Dustin opens his mouth to protest. Steve knows he wants time alone together to drill him, really get into the nitty gritty of his sexuality, but his eyes flicker to Will and he snaps his mouth shut.

Steve fucking loves this kid.

It’s shockingly silent for a ride with Dustin Henderson in the car, but when he pulls up to his house he flings himself over the gearshift to give him another hug. “I love you,” he says, and tears spring to Steve’s eyes. “You’re still my brother, even if you’re gay.”

“Thanks, kid,” he chokes out, ruffling the cap over his hair. “Love you too.”

He gives Steve a wide grin, and then he’s gone, slamming the door behind him.

“Hey! Be careful with my car!” He shouts out the window.

“Sorry!”

He rolls his eyes. “That little shit,” he grumbles, but he’s not really mad. He turns to Will in the backseat. “You wanna come on up?”

The ride to the Hopper-Byers new farmhouse goes by just as quietly. Will looks out the passenger window the whole time. Steve gets the feeling he’s collecting his thoughts, so he doesn’t try to fill the silence.

Finally, they pull up the long driveway, and Steve puts the car in park. Will doesn’t move.

“Y’alright, Byers?” He finally asks.

“How did you know it was okay to tell people?”

Ah. This is that conversation.

Steve shrugs, rolling his shoulders back. “I didn’t. I just…took a leap of faith, I guess.”

Will doesn’t look happy with that answer. “But weren’t you scared?”

“Are you kidding me? I was fucking terrified.” He chuckles, even though there’s nothing funny about it. “Robin and I had a backup plan to move to Chicago if it went sideways.” They might still need it, he has no idea what’s happening with her parents right now. It makes him itch, but she’s survived two apocalypses. He has to trust that she’ll be okay no matter what.

“…I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” Will says quietly. It’s almost completely dark by now, but he can tell he’s shaking.

“You’re not alone,” he promises. “Even if it felt like it, you were never alone. There’s other people like us, people we know and love, even. We’re here for you.”

“Is it Robin?”

He should have known that would be his first assumption. It’s pretty obvious when you know what’s going on, a woman willingly tying herself down with a gay man. Being the one to suggest it, even. The kids are smart, and Will, with his quiet intuition and watchful gaze, was never going to miss it.

“That’s something you’ll have to talk to Robin about.”

It’s as good as a confirmation, but he doesn’t think Robin will mind.

“You want me to ask her?” Will wrinkles his nose, nervous.

He smiles encouragingly. “You already know she’ll be okay with it. She was the first person I ever told, and she kept my secret for months. She’ll keep yours, too.”

Plus, he thinks Will and Robin have more in common than Steve and Will do, both in general and gay-wise. Steve didn’t realize until he was nearly twenty, dated girls to push it down and made sure people never, ever guessed what he was. The first time someone called Robin a dyke, she was seven.

It was just some everyday asshole, someone who probably said it ten times a day to different people and never meant any of it. Still, it made its impact.

“You don’t have to, though,” he continues. “No one here is gonna make you do anything you’re not ready for. You can do whatever you want, as long as it’s at your own pace and you’re comfortable.”

“Whatever I want?” A sly smirk spreads across his face. “Should I start wearing lip gloss?”

Steve takes back every thought he’s ever had about Will being sweeter than the rest. Kid’s as much as a goddamn menace as his friends. “Sure, kid,” he deadpans. “S’long as you take self defense classes first.”

Will wilts a bit at that. “Murray would probably teach me. He knows karate or something. I don’t actually want to wear lip gloss, though. It just seems so…sticky.”

“It’s sticky,” Steve confirms. “Very sticky. Your mouth makes noise when you wear it.”

“So you have worn lip gloss.”

That’s on Steve for falling into the obvious trap laid out. “No one will ever believe you.”

“They’re all going to believe me.”

Fuck, he’s right. “Get outta my car, you brat.”

Will laughs and complies. Steve gets out with him, and draws him into a hug that he melts into. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promises.

His voice is muffled into Steve’s shoulder. “Is it?”

“We’ll make it okay.” He pulls back to meet Will’s eyes, smiling with a confidence he doesn’t really feel. “It’s chump change compared to the apocalypse, right?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“No, it really fucking doesn’t,” he snorts. “But that’s the way it is, I guess.”

They say their goodbyes and Will gives him one last hug before he goes inside. Steve watches until the door shuts behind him, because the last thing he needs is Joyce Byers kicking his ass because her son got lost under his watch. He sees movement in the window and waves. Jonathan waves back tentatively, and with the assurance that someone is watching over the kid, Steve gets in his car and goes home.

As soon as he’s settled in for the night, something starts banging on his bedroom window. He sighs. He knew he should have left it open. He rolls out of bed to shove it up, blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“You have a key to my place,” he reminds Robin as she climbs in, expecting her to snark back.

Instead, she promptly bursts into tears.

He panics. “Robin? Robin, are you okay? Do you have your stuff? Do we need to leave? What happened?” He grabs her hands, checking her over for injuries.

She shakes her head, eyes wide.

“They told me they love me no matter what,” she cries. “I was so scared, and…they’re okay with it! Steve, they love me anyway.”

“Oh,” he says, and sits back on his bed. She climbs into his lap and tells him everything. About how they were more pissed about the marriage than the gay thing, that once they understood why they got married they were (somewhat) okay with that too. Which is good, because he loves Robin’s parents and doesn’t want to be on their shit list.

He tries not to be jealous of their acceptance and the fact that Robin has parents who love her. He mostly succeeds.

“They want to meet you,” Robin says once she’s done recounting every detail of the night. “As my husband instead of my best friend.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Why would it be different? It’s not like we’re actually in love.”

“I dunno, but you’d better be ready for family dinner tomorrow. Wear something nice.”

“I have to wear a suit?”

“Why does your mind immediately go there?” She complains. “The dark blue polo and jeans work fine, rich boy. And be ready to eat my portion of Mom’s potato salad.”

He loves Mrs. Buckley’s potato salad. “Deal.”

Tomorrow comes, and Steve may actually be dying of nerves. Robin helps him get ready to calm him down (and so he could calm her down) before they arrive at Buckley’s door. She deposits him in the kitchen before going to watch the antique show with her dad. Steve’s not a great cook by any means, surviving mostly on frozen pizza and take-out, but he can follow a recipe. Richard Buckley is a decent guy, the kind of man who would cook for his wife, but apparently the Buckley bloodline has a curse. Neither of them can cook for shit, and have been banned from the kitchen on several accounts. Mrs. Buckley tells Steve about the times her husband has set the stove on fire every time he sees her.

The two of them make chit chat as they work. About work, the apartment they’re getting, and, of course, the wedding.

“What did your parents think of the marriage?” She asks. “Richard and I were certainly…surprised. Upset we weren’t invited, or told, but I guess that’s karma for you. I did the same thing to my mother for worse reasons.”

Steve laughs sheepishly. “Sorry about that,” he says, and she waves him off. “My parents, uh, aren’t home right now. I haven’t told them.”

A knowing look crosses her face. “And I’m assuming they won’t know about…the why of it all?”

He grimaces. “No. Never.”

His dad hates three things, and it’s trash, disobedience, and fags. If he caught wind of Steve being all three, he’d throw him out quicker than he could say queer. Maybe throw a punch on his way out. His mom would tell his dad, so she could never know either.

He knows they won’t be happy about the marriage. Especially the fact that it was small and quiet, an impulse elopement at a courthouse. They’re not going to like that it was Robin, either. Still, it shouldn’t be enough for them to cut him off. The last name thing might be a dealbreaker, but they can probably fake it. He has plans for that trust fund, dammit, and he’s not going to ruin it with something like honesty. When has his family ever been honest with each other?

He does need to call his mom soon, though, lest she find out from a neighbor's voicemail instead of her son. He doesn’t want to know what she’ll do if that happens.

“Thank you for doing this for her,” Melissa says. “I know it won’t be easy for you, any more than it is for our girl.”

“Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck, nervous. They’re okay with Robin, but does it mean they’ll be okay with him? They raised her, they have to love her no matter what, right? Steve, they can just kick out.

Then he remembers how stupid that is. That’s not how any of this works. The Buckley’s just don’t suck, plain and simple. Plus, they’re legally bound now. He has their last name and everything. Good luck getting rid of him.

“It’s uh, mutually beneficial, actually.”

She turns to him, head tilted in the same way Robin does. It’s comforting, but he still sweats as she studies him.

“Oh,” she finally says. “Well then I’m happy for you both.”

He slumps, relieved, and she laughs a bit as she pulls him into a hug. “Thanks, Mrs. Buckley.”

“Please, dear, call me Melissa. You’re family.”

“I physically cannot do that.”

“Then call me Mom.”

Once they’re all sat around the dinner table, Robin’s parents start telling stories about what they did before she was born. Steve listens eagerly. He loves hearing about their lives, it’s so fucking wild compared to what he’s experienced living in Hawkins.

Aside from all the monsters and government conspiracy, that is.

“You know, we met a couple just like you two once,” Melissa says, snapping her fingers. “In…dear, where were we? Dorothy and Michael, remember them? They wouldn’t have told us, but we were all..well, we weren’t exactly at the capacity to care. Remember, Richard?”

“I don’t know, honey.” Richard shrugs, and grins at Steve. “She’s always been so much better at remembering things than me. I think I was a tad too…ah…green then.”

He makes a subtle motion, pinching his thumb and index finger together and bringing them up to his mouth. Steve laughs as Melissa squawks and smacks her husband on the arm.

“Not at the table,” she admonishes. Robin buries her face in her hands. “Oh, bother, I don’t know where we met them. But they were doing the same thing you two are. Lavender, I think they called it. A lavender marriage.”

“Oh, hey, I love lavender!”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Could you get any gayer?” She asks, and then remembers where she is and clamps her mouth shut.

“Robin Denise. Be nice to your husband!” She sighs, turning to Steve. “Honestly, they’re as bad as each other. I hope you know what you’re getting into by marrying a Buckley, dear.”

Robin and her dad object to that at the same time, in the same tone of voice. Steve just grins as he shovels more potato salad into his mouth. He loves being a Buckley.

The Sinclair parents like him, on account of believing he saved their son from a psychopath and their daughter from a fire. His part in either of those things wasn’t quite as big as the cover story made it out to be, but he’s not about to correct them and lose out on Mrs. Sinclair’s casserole dishes. He doesn’t know what it is about him that makes mothers think he’s wasting away. Ma Henderson does the same thing. Karen occasionally sends him home with tupperwares. Even Joyce has pushed more than a few containers into his hands and told him to take care of himself.

“It’s because you have those big brown eyes,” Robin said once. “They make you look like a sad, pathetic, motherless little cow. Mom’s can’t help but smother you.”

“I have a mom!”

“Barely,” she pointed out.

He couldn’t argue with that.

Point is, the Sinclair’s call Steve two days after his dinner at the Buckley’s asking if he could possibly come watch Erica since Lucas is out with his friends and none of their usual go-to’s are free. He jumps at the chance.

“No, no, it’s absolutely fine, Mrs. Sinclair,” he says over the phone, giving Robin a quick thumbs up to show that plan Tell Erica was in motion. “I didn’t have any plans. No, you don’t have to pay me, I promise. I’ll just eat all the food in your fridge and we’ll call it even.”

Mrs. Sinclair laughs. “If there’s anything left in there after Lucas gets to it. That boy is a black hole. I don’t know where he puts it!”

He has to refuse their offer to pay him again when he gets there.

“At least take the money to buy a pizza,” Mrs. Sinclair insists, shoving a twenty in his hand.

“It’s best to give in, son,” her husband says, winking at him. They kind of remind him of the Buckley’s. A non-hippy version. It might just be the healthy relationship with each other and their kids.

“Why? He’s rich,” Erica points out, and straightens up at the dangerous look her mother sends her. “Just the facts!”

“Be good,” Mrs. Sinclair admonishes, and kisses Erica on the forehead on her way out. Her dad lays an affectionate hand on her head, careful not to mess up her freshly done hair, and they’re gone.

“Well kid? You gonna be good for me?” Steve asks, and laughs at the look she sends him.

“I’m not five,” she snaps. “And we’re watching My Little Pony.”

“Fine by me.”

By the end of the first movie, he’s fidgeting so much she picks up on it.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“You’re squirmy,” she says. “Last time you were squirmy, Dustin gave you lice and you thought you were gonna have to cut your stupid hair off.”

That was a nightmare. He never should have stolen Dustin’s hat, even as a joke. Robin and he had to comb through each other’s hair like monkeys. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And my hair is not stupid.”

“Uh huh.” She raises her eyebrows, entirely unconvinced.

“But, hypothetically, if I did have something important I wanted to tell you…”

She turns, bringing her knees up to her chest to give him her full attention.

“Okay.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I want to start out by saying that there’s nothing wrong with gay people, and I hope you understand that what…uh, gender someone loves doesn’t make them less of a person.”

“Duh,” Erica wrinkles her nose. “I know that already.”

“You do?” Steve asks, surprised despite himself. He needs to stop underestimating these kids. They’re a hell of a lot smarter than he’s ever been, of course they’d know queers exist and accept them before Steve did.

“I caught my cousin Matthew making out with his boyfriend,” she says. “He gave me three My Little Pony sets to never tell, by the way, so if you snitch you’d better give me twice that.”

“…okay…” He’s having second thoughts about telling her. “You know why you shouldn’t just tell people that, right?”

“‘Cause people don’t like boys who like boys. I’m not an idiot.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because Matthew could be in danger if you tell people, Erica. People get killed for this shit. What if I was homophobic?”

“You just said—“ she starts to protest.

“It’s still not a good idea to tell anyone!”

She looks slightly cowed. “But you said you don’t mind. I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t.”

“No, I’m…” he takes a deep breath. “I’m telling you that I’m queer, and I might get a boyfriend in the future. And just like Matthew, you can’t tell anyone, got that? Not your friends, or your teachers, or your parents. No blurting it out to random babysitters when they bring up gay people. I know you know how to keep a secret. I need you to promise me you can keep this one.”

She looks at him solemnly, probably clocking the way he’s sweating. Then she sticks her hand out, pinky raised.

“My lips are sealed,” she promises. “And…I’ll pay Matthew back for the sets.”

She looks sullen, and he barks out a laugh. “You’re gonna give the poor guy a heart attack,” he says, and wraps his little finger around hers. “How’s this, you can tell Matthew, and only Matthew, so he doesn’t have a panic attack or some shit. And you can talk to the rest of the party about it, because I came out to them during their last session.”

Her mouth drops open. “Am I the last to know?”

“You were at Tina’s!”

“Why am I always the last to know things?” She demands

He refrains from pointing out the fact that she’s twelve. He has a feeling it would get him killed. “You’re not actually the last to know. The only people who know are Dustin, El, Will, Max, Mike, Lucas—“

“Lucas knew before me?”

“—and Eddie,” he finishes. “And Robin, but she’s my wife, it doesn’t count.”

“She’s your what?”

Oh, right. Maybe he should have led with that.

He ends up taking her out to get ice cream, as an apology for being a bad babysitter. And buys her a My Little Pony set, because she deserves it for putting up with him.

Once they’ve told all the kids, they’re fairly quiet about the marriage. They act the same as they always have, just with rings on their fingers and paperwork declaring Steve to be a Buckley.

It’s actually Steve’s pride in his new name that causes things to blow up. They’re gathered at the farmhouse that Joyce and Hopper bought together, and Steve’s doing his typical smile and nod as he walks past. “Hop,” he greets.

“Harrington.” Hopper raises his bottle in reply.

Steve corrects him unthinkingly, flashing his ring. “Buckley, now.”

Hopper spits out his beer.

“You’re married?”

“He’s what?” Nancy’s head whips around, narrowing her eyes. Well, Steve lived a good life. “Steve! Did you knock someone up?”

“Is Robin pregnant?” Hopper asks, strained like he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“You married Robin? What happened to ‘Platonic with a capital P?’” Nancy asks, bewildered.

Robin’s eyes are wide and panicked. “Uh…”

“Robin is not pregnant!” Steve shouts, strangled. Several heads turn, and his face heats up. “Actually Nancy, can I talk to you? Okay? Thanks,” he says, grabbing Nancy’s arm, pulling her away.

Hopper watches them go, making an aborted movement to follow them before Robin practically throws herself in front of him. “So, Russians, am I right?” He hears her say frantically before they round the corner. Then it’s just him and Nancy.

He hasn’t been alone with Nancy for months. Hasn’t had a real conversation with her for almost as long. She’s been busy packing, leaving for college soon, and it’s not like they really talk outside of world-ending events anymore. He knows she and Robin hang out all the time, but Steve…he doesn’t know where he fits in her life. If he has a place in it. He would like to, but it’s possible he’s about to ruin any chance of that.

He doesn’t think so, though. He clings to that hope.

“Steve,” she hisses in his ear as he finds a room—possibly Jonathan’s— and practically throws her in, shutting the door behind them, “what the fuck?”

Oh, he’s in deep shit. Nancy doesn’t ask “what the fuck” unless she’s about to implode.

“Listen—“

“You got married?” She practically shrieks. “Without telling anyone? Without even bothering to give us a warning? Or an invitation? Was that just me? Did everyone else know about this?”

“No!” He rushes to assure her. “No, we kind of…well, we totally eloped without telling anyone, sorry. But we have a good reason!”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“I’m, umm…” Wow, is it warm in here? He pulls at his collar nervously. “I’m…pregnant.”

“What?”

“Shit! No! That wasn’t what I meant to say.” He sits on the bed and buries his face in his hands. She settles beside him tentatively.

“Steve,” she says, putting a hand on his arm. “I know we don’t talk a lot, but you know you can tell me anything, right? You can trust me. If something’s wrong, maybe I can help.”

“It isn’t wrong,” he insists, a little more choked up than he’d like to admit.

Her fingers tighten around him. “Okay,” she agrees. “Nothing’s wrong. But there is something you want to tell me?”

“Yeah, I’m…” he looks up, trying his best to meet her eyes. “I’m queer. Uh, gay. I don’t really…I don’t like girls at all, I think.”

“Oh.” Her hand falls off his arm, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Really?”

“Sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be. I guess…some things make sense now, I think. And some things make…less sense.”

“Like the dating you part?”

“Like the telling me you were still in love with me and wanted me to have your kids and travel the country together part.”

He feels himself turn red. “I…don’t have a good explanation for that.” It wasn’t his best look. Some kind of last-ditch effort at heterosexuality before he had to give up for good.

He recognizes it for what it was, now. Knows he was grasping at straws. Denial may be one hell of a drug, but Steve turns twenty this year. At some point he had to wean himself off.

She laughs a little at whatever expression is on his face. “It’s fine. As long as you don’t actually expect me to do that.” She frowns. “What about Robin? Where does she fit into all this?”

“Oh!” He perks up. “She’s, uh, helping me. With hiding and shit, you know? Especially with my reputation, there’s less questions when you don’t try and flirt or go on dates when you have a wife.”

“What about her? Doesn’t she want to get married one day?”

Steve shrugs, not meeting her eyes. Nancy has a tendency to see right through him, he doesn’t want to accidentally out Robin because of it. “She suggested it.”

“That was nice of her.”

“She’s fucking awesome,” he agrees immediately, and she laughs.

They sit there for a minute in silence. Despite Nancy’s acceptance, it’s hard to ignore the tension vibrating from her, and he worries it’s his fault.

“Steve?” She finally says.

“Yeah?”

She fidgets, nearly as nervous as she was when fighting monsters. More nervous than when they slept together for the first time. “Me too. I’m…” she takes a fortifying breath. “I'm queer too. It’s new to me, right now, so I’m not really sure…” She shakes her head, licks her lips. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

She lets out an oof when he flings himself into her for a hug. He accidentally topples them off the bed, and they sit there on the floor, stunned, before they start laughing.

He takes her hand once they’ve calmed down. “You’re not alone either,” he promises, hoping it’s as important to her as it is for him. “We’ve got each other. You’ve got me for life, Nancy Wheeler. We can start a club.”

“A club of two?” She asks, raising her eyebrows.

He grins at her. “I can think of a few more.”

Her eyes sharpen at that, but luckily she knows better than to ask who. She stands and holds a hand out to him. “C’mon, Mr. Buckley. I’ll help you guys field Hopper and Joyce’s questions.”

He didn’t even have to tell her he changed his name. His heart warms even as he groans theatrically, accepting her hand up. “God, why’d we have to save the world with an ex-cop? He’s not gonna let anything go.”

“He will if he knows what’s good for him,” she promises, and Steve even believes her.

Dinner is surprisingly enjoyable. Between Nancy and the kids, they manage to make the marriage seem more like an impulse decision between two scared kids who don’t want to wait for the next apocalypse to tie the knot and less like two queers trying to fake it til they make it. Joyce and Hopper seem to accept it at face value, although Joyce looks worried for their futures and Hopper suspicious as hell. Jonathan seems equally bewildered, looking between them like he can tell something’s off but doesn’t know what.

That’s why when dinner is over, he follows him to the kitchen and helps him kindly nudge Joyce away from the dishes. Making quick eye contact with Robin as she whisks Nancy away from the table. She gives him a thumbs up before they disappear.

“How about this, honey, you wash and I’ll dry—“ Joyce is telling Jonathan, and Steve sweeps into the room and cheerfully plucks the towel from her hand.

“Let us, Joyce,” he says, trying to turn his charm up to the max. Moms love him, even Karen warmed up to him eventually. “You already did too much work today.”

“Steve, you’re a guest!”

“He’s a grown man, Mom, it’ll be fine,” Jonathan says.

Between the two of them, they manage to usher her away. There’s a few minutes of awkward silence as they work together, only broken by Steve asking where a dish goes, before Jonathan sighs. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Who says I wanted to talk about something? Maybe I just really wanted to help with the dishes.”

He gets a flat, amused look in return. It makes him laugh, and emboldens him enough to follow through.

“I’m really sorry about what I said when Will went missing. I know I already apologized for it, but I realized some things about myself recently and I think it makes it worse.”

Jonathan wrinkles his nose in confusion. “You know that was years ago, right? I know you wouldn’t say that now. We’re good, man.”

“Yeah, but just…listen.” He takes a deep breath, looking around to make sure the adults aren’t lurking around somewhere. Or the kids, because what he’s about to say is embarrassing as hell. “I’m pretty sure the reason I called you queer was because I thought you were pretty and I didn’t know how to handle it. Which isn’t an excuse, obviously, but…I dunno, I wanted to tell you. Also, I think I had a crush on you after we fought the demogorgon together. Not anymore, though, promise. I’m not trying to be weird or anything. Oh, yeah, I’m gay by the way. That was the other thing I needed to tell you.”

Jonathan stares at him, plate falling from his hands and sliding back into the water.

Steve fidgets. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—“

“No!” Jonathan yelps, and then composed himself. “No, you didn’t—you don’t make me uncomfortable. It’s fine. I, uh, care about you no matter what. Love who you love, man.”

Steve blushes, and Jonathan tracks it, watching him intently. Shit. “Thanks, man,” he says weakly. “I…care about you too.”

Jonathan presses his lips together, clearly fighting a wince. “This is weird, right?”

“So weird,” Steve breathes, sagging in relief. “I think I’d have preferred it if you just tried to beat me up again.”

It’s a lie. He probably would have cried, or at least shut himself away for a while. They don’t talk a lot, but Jonathan is important to him. Hearing that he cares is enough to make his throat go tight. People don’t say that to him often. He knows they do, obviously, but hearing it out loud makes him flustered.

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.”

Jonathan sighs, shaking his head good naturedly. “Wow. Of all the things…I totally thought you were gonna tell me Robin is pregnant after all.”

He makes a face automatically, and Jonathan laughs at him. They go back to washing dishes in silence.

Finally, Steve can’t take it anymore. “Are you not gonna ask why we got married?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious. Smart, too. Easier for you guys to hide like that.”

He blinks. “I didn’t say anything about Robin.”

“You didn’t have to.” He shrugs offhandedly, handing Steve another dish to dry.

Well okay then. Can’t argue with that.

He takes the dish.

When they’re done, Jonathan claps him on the back. “Will told me what you did for him,” he says quietly. “He didn’t tell me about you, but I know you helped him feel a lot better. Proud of you, man.” And with that casual decimation of Steve’s emotions, he wanders off. Probably to call Argyle. Steve grimaces at the feeling of the wet handprint on his shirt, but he bears it.

He walks into the living room and sits next to Robin on the couch. The kids are playing go fish instead of their three hour nightmare of a “short” campaign. Thank God they can play actual games and not just the one they used as a frame of reference for their real life monsters. Every time he hears something about the Demogorgon his blood pressure rises.

“So, Harrington,” Dustin says as Will gives Erica a card. “I have some questions.”

“Buckley,” he and Robin correct together.

He rolls his eyes. “Steve. I have questions.”

Rare are the times Dustin warns him before springing him with something weird and extremely personal. He and Robin look at each other.

Do you think it’s about the gay thing? He asks, silently resigned.

Her eyes are amused. It’s totally about the gay thing.

Ugh. He should have thought this through when he came out. He was prepared to have to flee the state, not deal with weird questions from toddlers. He peeks through both doors warily, but Joyce and Hopper are nowhere to be seen. “…okay?”

“Hey Dustin, you have any sevens?”

“Are you sure you’re, like, all the way gay? Don’t you think you could be bi?” To Lucas, he says, “Go fish.”

“What’s that?” Lucas asks as he takes another card.

“Bisexual is where you like girls and boys the same way,” Dustin says offhandedly. “I read it in one of Nancy’s Bowie magazines.”

“Why were you reading Nancy’s magazines?” Robin asks, at the same time El says, “But isn’t that everyone?”

Everyone turns around to look at her. She stares back.

Max pats her on the shoulder. “We’ll talk about that later,” she promises. Everyone unanimously make the decision to let that go until a better time.

“Yes, Dustin, I’m all the way gay,” Steve finally says, and then cheerfully deflects any and all questions about his sexuality for the rest of the game.

After they finish playing and everyone’s moved on, Mike corners him.

“So you were never really in love with my sister?” He asks accusingly.

Steve laughs. “Dude, she was never in love with me either.”

“How would you know?”

“She told me, squirt.” He ruffles Mike’s hair, and he lets out a squawk and smacks his hand away. “Pretty brutally, actually. It’s all water under the bridge now. I thought I was in love with her, but in reality I just didn’t know how to be friends with a girl.” Carol had been dating Tommy, which put her firmly off the map. Even then, he’d thought he had a crush on her for a while there.

“Oh.” Mike wrinkles his nose. “That’s kind of sad. I don’t want to say pathetic, but…”

“God, you’re such a shithead,” he says affectionately. “I have friends now, and your sister is one of them. So are you, Wheeler. Don’t think I didn’t notice you hugging me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mike grins. “We good?”

“We’re good.”

Robin is hanging out with Nancy today, and Max is staying the night, so the only person in his car when he leaves is Dustin.

Of course.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves hanging out with Dustin. He’s his best friend next to Robin, the brother he never had. They don’t really see each other one on one anymore, unless you count weekly dinners at the Henderson place or the days when Dustin bikes to his house because he couldn’t wait to tell him about whatever nerd thing he’s discovered now. It’ll be easier on him now that he and Robin live in an apartment not too far from his house.

It’s just that he knows as soon as they’re alone he’s going to be asked some ridiculous, inappropriate question because sometimes it seems like Dustin doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries.

True to character, Dustin opens his mouth as soon as the car door shuts behind him. “So how do two guys…”

Yep, there it is. This is hell. He’s died, and God is punishing his sodomy in the worst way imaginable. He didn’t even get to actually sodomize. “No,” he says firmly, and hopes it will stay at that.

Jokes on him. He’d never be so lucky. “No?” Dustin repeats, outraged. “What do you mean, ‘No?’”

Steve closes his eyes and contemplates banging his head against the steering wheel until he gets amnesia. Unfortunately, Robin will kill him if he gets any more concussions. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“It’s not for me.”

“And we’re still not talking about it.”

“I think I have a right to know,” he declares. “I know about normal sex, why can’t you tell me how gay sex works?”

“Why can’t I—you—normal—you’re not even—“ Steve sputters, at a loss for words. The fucking audacity of this kid. “I’m not giving you the gay sex talk!”

“Why not?” Dustin demands again.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know, Henderson!”

Dustin’s mouth falls open.

Steve sighs and leans his head back, covering his eyes. He didn’t mean to admit that.

“You don’t know?”

“Can we stop talking about this?”

“You’re gay! How do you not know how gay sex works?”

“Because I’ve spent my whole life fucking women, shit-for-brains! I didn’t know I was going to care about that! And where would I have learned? They’re not exactly handing out manuals over here. It’s not like I can just go to the fucking library without cranky old Mrs. P telling everyone at church I was looking at gay sex magazines!”

“They have those there?”

“No.”

Dustin huffs, disappointed. “…she is cranky, isn’t she?”

“She hates me.”

“She hates everyone,” he says, which Steve is pretty sure isn’t true. Still, it’s nice to know he’s not the only one on her bad side. “So you really don’t know how it works?”

“I have…a vague idea, I think,” Steve admits. “Which I will not be sharing, because most of it is probably wrong.” Blowjobs and handies are one thing, but outside of some curious experimenting with his fingers he doesn’t really know how the actual putting it in would work. Honestly, he’s a little worried about it. His attempts were mediocre at best.

He refuses to be the one spreading misinformation to the youth of Hawkins. Specifically, he doesn’t want one of his kids to come up to him and ask why his advice didn’t work.

Steve’s well aware he lost his virginity when he was their age, maybe even younger. He’s okay with being a hypocrite.

Dustin sits back as he starts the car, disappointed his planned line of questioning has been shut down before it can even really start. “Mom wants you to come to dinner on Tuesday.”

“Not Wednesday?” He asks, checking his mirrors.

“She wants Robin there too.”

Robin works Wednesday evenings, which is why she hasn’t made it to a Henderson Family Dinner before now. Steve, on the other hand, hasn’t worked a Wednesday closing shift since the first time Dustin invited him.

“We’ll be there,” he promises.

“Good, because she’s been really wanting to see you. I told her you got married, and she cried.”

He almost slams the brakes. “What?”

“You totally broke her heart! She wanted to go to your wedding. I told her you didn't actually plan anything and it was totally an impulse decision, which made her feel a little bit better, but she’s still really sad about it. And then you didn’t even come over for dinner last week! You haven’t missed a week since you were in the hospital, Steve! She thinks you don’t love her anymore.”

“She does?” He’s a monster. A horrible, traitorous monster, who broke Ma Henderson’s heart. He should be put down for this.

“Don’t worry, I told her you were busy moving. She misses you though. She’s really excited to see you and Robin for dinner, so don’t be late.”

As if he’s ever been late to family dinner night. “We’ll be there you little shit, you don’t have to convince me.”

“Fine,” he says, “it’s at five o’clock like always. Bring brownies.”

“Is that Ma’s request or yours?”

“Just bring them!”

Dinner is nice, if not a bit awkward considering the fact that Dustin keeps trying to give him knowing glances while his mom talks about their wedding and how she’s sure it was “very nice” and how it’s sweet they found “the one” at such a young age. All in the same voice every adult not in the know has used so far, like she thinks they’re making a mistake but is too polite to say so. It’s a little better since Steve’s been talking Robin up every time they get together for the past year, so on his side at least it seems like they’re properly infatuated with each other.

“I had my Dusty out of wedlock,” she says, reaching for the salt. “My mother had a fit when she found out, but there was nothing I could do. He hightailed it to the city before you could say ‘preggers.’ I’m so glad you found a man who wouldn’t do that to you, dear. More casserole?”

Robin starts when she realizes she’s being addressed. “Oh—no thank you, Ms. Henderson. I’m, um, not pregnant, actually.”

“Of course not, dear,” she says, clearly not believing them in the slightest. Steve feels his face turn red. “You’re too thin! You need more meat on your bones. And call me Ma.”

Robin gives him a pleading look. He promises with his eyes that he’ll eat what she can’t so they don’t make Ma feel unloved.

She sighs and lets Ma fill up her plate.

“Of course, then I met Dusty’s father,” she continues once she’s satisfied Robin won’t starve. “Such a sweet man, and so good with kids! Dustin loved him immediately. It was hard not to. We were married before his fifth birthday, he got to be my little ring bearer. He was so proud of his little outfit. I told him it was a very important job, he was so careful about it. Would you like to see the pictures later?”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Henderson,” Robin says, a new light entering her eyes. Dustin groans.

“Mom! You always do this!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, you were just so cute! I can’t help it. Of course, Freddie was taken from us so young, but that’s the way it goes. The Lord said it was time for him to come home.” She takes a minute to dab at her eyes with her napkin. Across the table, Dustin looks at his plate, eerily still.

“I wish I could have met him,” Steve says honestly.

“Oh, he would have loved you.” She composes herself. “Now, dear, would you like pie or brownies for dessert?”

Robin looks up with wide, panicked eyes, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.

“So,” Eddie drawls, swinging his legs up on their couch. He’s helping Steve and Robin unpack the last of their stuff, which of course means he and Robin are lazing about while Steve unpacks the last of their movies. Bastards, the both of them. “I hear you don’t know how gay sex works.”

Robin chokes on her water so hard it comes out of her nose. Steve stares at Eddie.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says, almost incredulously. “I’m actually going to kill him. Wow. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming. I really should have expected it. Is this how Jesus felt?”

“Jesus?” Robin wheezes, still coughing. Eddie pounds her back. “Are you— are you actually comparing yourself to Jesus right now?”

“I’ve suffered more than he ever did. I’m suffering more right now. Why the fuck would he tell you that?”

Eddie grins at him, wild and inviting. “I think he’s counting on me to show you the ropes, big boy.”

“I don’t need to be shown the ropes,” he retorts, like a liar. He doesn’t even bother wondering why Dustin went to Eddie about it, since his crush can probably be seen from space. He’d love for Eddie to guide him through gay sex. He dreams about it. “I think I’ll be able to figure it out, thanks. I just didn’t feel comfortable giving the little shit a play by play on something I’ve never even done before. Like, what did he want me to do, give him a detailed list on all the times I thought about sucking dick in the locker room?”

Robin lets out a sharp cackle, almost by accident. “Did you really? And you didn’t know you were gay?”

“I thought everyone thought about that! It’s just, like, healthy curiosity! You just can’t say it out loud, because then its faggot shit.”

“Nope, you’re not using the ‘healthy curiosity’ excuse again. It’s going on the list.”

Steve groans. The Signs Steve Was Gay list is one of his favorite and least favorite things about coming out. On one hand, he loves lists. His shitty memory and general absent mindedness means they’re his saving grace. Plus, this specific list helps with realizing what behaviors of his that he brushed off as being an “everyone” kind of thing were actually early signs. On the other hand, Robin will put shit like his favorite band or his hair care routine on it in between the serious points.

Also, sometimes they’ll spend forever debating over whether something counts because neither of them actually know what is and isn’t something straight people experience. Since they moved to the apartment, Robin will always end the argument by pulling out the fridge magnet declaring that “the wife is always right” that she’d bought a week ago for the sole purpose of shutting him up. She’s such an asshole. He doesn’t know how he lived without her.

“Do you really have a list?” Eddie asks.

She lights up. “Absolutely there’s a list. You should see it, it’s great. We spent an hour fighting over whether or not his favorite band should go on it.”

“Queen isn’t gay! Everyone likes Queen!”

“It’s literally called Queen, it had to go on the list. Wait until you see what a dingus he is Eddie, I think my soul left my body when he told me some of the stuff on it—“ She darts into his room before he can stop her, and he groans. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

“I won’t read it if you don’t want me to.”

“No, it’s fine,” he sighs. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me for the first thing. It wasn’t even my idea.”

“What’s the first thing?”

“I got it!” Robin runs back into the room, waving the sheet of lined paper like it’s the Holy Grail. She thrusts it at Eddie, who gives Steve a questioning look, making sure it’s really okay. Steve sighs again and waves him on.

As soon as he starts reading, he chokes. “Practice kissing with Tommy Hagan is the first point?!”

“I said you couldn’t make fun of me!”

“I know, but dude. Dude.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” He defends. “Tommy said everyone did it so they’d be good at kissing girls! It’s just that no one ever talked about it because it’d sound gay and all the girls would think we were gross.”

“You believed him?”

“I know, right?” Robin says, clearly ecstatic to be able to talk to someone about how oblivious he’s been.

“Of course I believed him,” he complains. “It was Tommy. He wouldn’t have lied to me.”

“He did,” Robin points out. “He very obviously did lie to you. No one does that.”

“Kind of a genius move, if you think about it. Who wouldn’t tell a little white lie for the chance to plant one on the King?” Eddie muses.

“For the last time, I wasn’t “King” of anything. We were literally in high school. I wasn’t even a senior yet when I stopped being friends with him. No one called me that until Billy came to town and decided he wanted to start shit,” he complains. “Plus, we were twelve! I had braces.”

Inside, though, his skin is crawling. He doesn’t really like being lied to, and he doesn’t like the implication that Tommy was always a liar, even way back then. Even if it was for something the truth could have gotten both of them beat to death for.

Eddie picks up on his discomfort and swerves. “Look at Richie Rich over here, able to afford braces.”

“Yeah, Steve, some of us kept our crooked teeth, like respectable people.”

He thinks their crooked teeth are cute. He doesn’t point out that Robin, being his wife, is technically also rich now. He’s still not 100% sure he won’t get booted when his dad finds out he took his wife’s last name like a pansy, let alone if Steve ever comes out. The call with his mom went well (as well as it could, considering the circumstances), so it’s probably fine. And if it isn’t, he’s been pulling out fifty dollars in cash from the bank account they made for him every week since he realized he was gay. Maybe he’ll up it to sixty.

He doesn’t mention any of that. Instead, he turns to Eddie, finally asking something that’s been making him anxious for well over the week since he’s come out.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He’s not looking at him, instead focusing on the VHS in his hands like it has all the answers to his problems. “Me being gay? I’d, uh, get it if you weren’t. It’s fine.”

It would not be fine. If Eddie was disgusted by him he’d be very upset. Not to mention pissed, after he got over the initial heartbreak. But he’d be fine, in the nebulous way he’s always fine after world ending events. Eventually.

“Dude, I’d have to be one hell of a hypocrite if I weren’t okay with you, considering I’m queer as a three dollar bill.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh?

Several of Eddie’s “weird habits” gain a whole new meaning in an instant. Leaning closer than he should when they talk, looking at his lips, tugging Steve’s hair and prancing away before he can kill him for it. Always with a gleeful laugh that did nothing to distract from the red tips of his ears peeking out from his hair. Steve just thought he was sunburned, but…

Oh, Jesus, he came to every one of Steve and Lucas’s basketball practices. Steve had to slather him in sunscreen because of how pink he was turning! And Eddie let him.

Jesus Christ, he just offered to show Steve how to have sex. He might have even been serious.

“Really?” Steve’s voice pitches, and Robin and Eddie share an amused, fond look. It makes his skin crawl again, but in a good way this time. “I mean, cool. That’s cool.”

“Aww, Stevie, you think I’m cool?” Eddie leans in, and Steve has to scoot back before he does something stupid, like kiss him on the mouth.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you. All I heard is that you think I’m cool. Robin, did you hear that?”

“I heard it.” She grins. Traitor. Steve wants a divorce. “Wow, Steve, I can’t believe you think Eddie’s cool.”

Well, when in Rome.

“Oh, Eddie,” he swoons, nearly as dramatic as Eddie himself would. “You’re so awesome, with your metal music and tabletop games and world-saving guitar skills. I wish I had half the amount of…” Shit, what’s the word? “…experience points as you. Do you think you could teach me? I’ll do anything.”

To put the final nail in the coffin, he leans as close as he dares and bats his eyelashes in the way girls do when they’re flirting with him.

Eddie turns firetruck red. And squeaks.

Squeaks.

“I…uh…I’m…” he stammers, eyes darting from Steve’s eyes to his lips, traveling even further down to where Steve knows his chest hair is peaking out of his shirt, and back to his eyes. “Wow, look at the time! Wayne needs me home, he’s—he’s, uh…we’re doing stuff today!”

Just like that, he’s gone, the list fluttering on the couch in his absence. Wayne isn’t even home right now, he’s at work. Eddie told them when he came over.

Steve watches him go, mildly disappointed, but also incredibly smug. He holds out a hand. Robin high fives him, still cackling. “I can’t believe that’s the guy you want to lose your gay virginity to,” she says, because of course he didn’t have to tell her. “That’s, like, super embarrassing for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks. Two can play that game. “How’s Vickie doing lately? Still…how did you put it? ‘Perfectly sunkissed?’ I bet her freckles are everywhere—“

He ducks the pen she throws at him, and laughs as she screeches.

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again until his weekly basketball practice with Lucas. He’s almost surprised he came, but he does drive Max, and she hasn’t missed a Friday since summer started. It’s sweet, the way she cheers and jeers and tells Steve he’s getting old whenever Lucas manages to get one by him. Little shit.

“Can you even see me through those coke bottles, Mayfield?” He playfully snaps after she boos another one of his plays.

“These ‘coke bottles’ are as thick as your skull, Grandpa. I can see enough to tell you suck,” she bites back. He laughs, and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. It’s too fucking hot out, honestly. He likes the heat, but not like this. He catches Eddie’s eye, the way the other man is blatantly staring at his torso where his shirt sticks to his skin.

If he winks at Eddie before taking the shirt off, that’s between him and the way Eddie’s jaw drops a bit.

“Alright, Sinclair, ready to go again?” He asks, turning around and shaking his hair out of his face. Fuck this heat for making everything so limp. His hair hasn’t been this flat in ages.

Lucas is looking everywhere but at him, eyes wide and flustered. Steve frowns. “You okay, man?”

“Fine!” Lucas’s voice cracks, and he hears Max snicker from behind. “It’s fine. Let’s keep playing.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have heat stroke or something, do you?” He moves forward to check his forehead, but Lucas jumps away. He stops in his tracks, heart sinking. “Is it…is it ‘cause I’m gay?”

Max’s laughter cuts off abruptly. Lucas panics, waving his hands and moving forward. “No! No, it’s not—I promise I’m not—“

“It’s okay, man,” Steve says, even though it kind of isn’t. “I can put my shirt back on if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that! Well, it is, but not because you’re gay! I don’t care if gay people take their shirt off. I have no problem with gay people.”

“So it’s just…me?”

“Yes,” Lucas says, relieved. Then his eyes widen. “Wait, no! No, no, no, no no. No.”

There’s so many things happening. Steve is hyper aware of the fact that Max has started laughing again, which is a good sign. He doesn’t think she’d laugh if Lucas was telling him he wasn’t okay with Steve being gay.

“Sinclair, you’re giving me mixed signals here.”

“It’s…you’re just…listen, can’t we just play our game?”

Steve feels the sting like stepping on a wasps nest. “Yeah,” he says. “Sure. Let’s play.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that,” he pleads. “It’s not because of you, I promise.”

Look at him like what? This is just Steve’s face. He tries to wipe the emotion off it, and definitely doesn’t succeed.

“Just put the man out of his misery,” Max calls. “You know he won’t judge you.”

“Max!”

“It’s fine, I get it. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“You’re hot, okay?” Lucas snaps, and then clamps a hand over his mouth.

Steve feels his soul leave his body. “…what.”

“Nothing!”

“You think I’m…are you…?” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking, or what’s more surprising. He chances a glance at Max, who has mirth in her eyes. Eddie is similarly amused, covering his mouth so he doesn’t laugh. Steve glares at him.

“No! Well, yes, but no? Do you, uh, remember what Dustin said about bisexuality?”

“Oh shit, for real?” He nods tentatively, and Steve raises his hand for a high five. “That’s awesome, Sinclair! Put ’er there.”

Lucas lights up. “It’s not weird?” He asks, wide-eyed and vulnerable.

Steve hesitates.

On one hand, it is kind of weird. At least, it is for Steve. In his mind the Party is the closest he’ll get to having little siblings, and they’re way younger than he is. On the other hand, Steve has been fifteen before. He knows if he says anything about that, Lucas is going to dig a hole in the ground and die in it.

It’s not like he’s never had a crush on someone too old for him. There was Brad Louman in freshman year, Kevin Louman’s older brother. He'd been particularly obsessed with him because he got them beer and occasionally played baseball with them. Or Tommy’s older sister, who once ruffled his hair when he was twelve and called him her “honorary brother” in a move that made Steve, who had firmly convinced himself he was in love with her, avoid their house for a week.

He can kind of see how this is the same thing, as if he were Dustin’s older brother in the scenario, and Lucas is one of the nicer kids that hangs around their house so much he’s basically part of the family.

He doesn’t want Lucas to avoid him.

“It’s cool, I know I’m pretty,” he teases, adding an eyebrow wiggle just to embarrass him. “I’m gonna put my shirt back on anyway, though, because now it feels weird on my end.” He sees Lucas wilt, and hastily adds, “Because you’re basically an infant. Not anything else, promise.”

“Max gets to watch you shirtless, and that isn’t weird,” Lucas complains.

“She what?”

“Um,” he says, with the wide eyes of someone who knows they were not supposed to say that.

“Lucas!” Max shrieks.

Eddie falls off the picnic table laughing.

After a few more rounds (with his shirt on), they wrap it up. Lucas grabs a water bottle out of his car and downs it in one gulp, getting another one for Max. Steve drinks about half of his before dumping the rest over his head.

He’s hyper-aware of three sets of eyes on him. Eddie’s the most blatant about it, leaning on the car next to him and letting his gaze follow the beads of water as they mix with the sweat on his neck. Steve wishes he would kiss him, even with the kids sitting at the picnic table five feet away and in view of the whole street. Maybe Eddie would make it worth being run out of town for.

“Nice work, Stalker,” he hears Max grumble, but he can hear the amusement in it.

Lucas sighs. “He hit me with the eyes, Max. You know, the ones where you feel like you kicked a puppy? I feel like eyes shouldn’t be allowed to be that sad.”

Eddie laughs at whatever face Steve is making. “You do have those eyes,” he tells him. “It’s devastating. I don’t think you realize how much you have those kids wrapped around your finger as soon as you bring them out.”

”Yeah, right,” he snorts. “Have you seen how they take advantage of me?

“No, no, you totally do,” Eddie says fondly. “They’re shitheads, and they absolutely take advantage of you—“

“Wow. Thanks.”

“—but you only bring out the eyes when your feelings are really hurt. They go into total crisis mode over it. I’ve never seen teenagers flail like that, it’s adorable.”

“It is not,” Max snipes, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Did you eavesdroppers want milkshakes or not?”

“You eavesdropped first. And I’m not sure my nose can handle getting in a car with you stinky jocks.”

“Some of us like the stink,” Eddie grins, and Max makes a noise of disgust.

“Ugh, weirdo. Just keep the windows rolled down.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve says, sarcasm dripping like the sweat down his back.

The milkshakes are good, at least. Good enough for him to ignore the way Eddie and Max are subtly teasing Lucas for his outburst. Definitely good enough to send a small, sheepish smile at their waitress when Max tries to claw Eddie’s eyes out for asking what Lucas having bad taste says about her.

“There’s nothing wrong with his taste,” he says through gritted teeth as Amelia disappears into the kitchen.

“I dunno,” Eddie grins, fending off Max’s attacks, “I think it could use some work.”

Lucas hasn’t said anything to defend himself. Instead he’s decided his best course of action is laying his head on the table and hoping the world decides to ignore him. Steve’s surprised steam isn't coming out of his ears.

“You good, man?”

“I’m throwing myself off the quarry,” he declares, still with his forehead to the wood.

“Mike and Will both already did that, copycat,” Max says.

“Technically Will didn’t, everyone just thought it was his body.”

“But Mike did. Still a copycat.”

“Fine, I’ll jump in front of a bus,” Lucas grumbles. “I’m throwing myself into traffic if you keep doing this to me. Are you happy? Is that good enough for you?”

“I dunno.” Max takes a loud slurp of her milkshake. “Seems unoriginal.”

“Oh my God—“

“Oh, hey, food’s here!” Steve says cheerfully. Lucas pops back up like a jack-in-the-box, only to immediately burn his mouth on a fry and put his head back down while Max cackles.

Eddie catches his eye, winking as she snorts. Steve grins back fondly, and wonders what it would take to keep this forever.

Around a week after Steve told Robin, she looked furtively around the empty store, checking to make sure they were really empty and no one had miraculously snuck past the bell before whirling around on him. “Can I still talk about girls with you?”

“Uh, obviously,” Steve said, confused. “I’ve talked about guys with you. Why would we not talk about girls? We’ve been talking about girls.”

“Yeah, but I mean…” she lowered her voice, even though they were well and truly empty. “You know. Boobies.”

She grimaced as she said it, like she couldn’t believe the word came out of her mouth.

He tilted his head contemplatively. “I mean, boobs are still great,” he said slowly. “They’re…y’know. Squishy. They jiggle and shit. It’s fun.”

Robin stared at him. “‘Jiggle and shit,’” she breathed. “Has that been the reason you’ve been so fascinated with them the entire time? Do you think of them as bouncy balls attached to a person?”

“Why do you like them?” He countered.

She opened her mouth, and then slowly shut it again.

“See? They’re nice!” He defended. “They’re tits, everyone likes tits. If I met a guy with tits, that’d be awesome.”

“What if you met a guy with a vagina?”

“Like a transvestite?”

“Yeah.”

He considered it for a minute. “I mean, I’ve never met one, so I dunno. I think it’d be fine. It’s still a guy.” It wasn’t usually the vagina Steve had an issue with, just the person attached to it.

It had become a familiar argument at this point, whether Steve was technically allowed to have any feelings towards boobs. Never on whether he was actually gay, which he was grateful for, just whether he should want to touch them.

Eddie, of course, gets dragged into it.

“Eddie,” Robin says. The store is empty again, because it’s Tuesday morning at a video store and no one ever watches anything on a Monday. “Opinion on tits?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh…I mean, they’re okay. They look soft, I guess?”

“They are,” Steve confirms.

“Cool.”

“So it’s not just Steve that likes boobs as a gay man.” Robin wrinkles her nose. “Why is everyone so obsessed with them?”

“Did you expect me to say they were gross?”

“Robbie,” Steve points out blankly, “you’re obsessed with them.”

“I’m a dyke! I get that privilege.”

“So now appreciating a nice rack is a privilege?” Eddie asks. “Steve, I think we’re being discriminated against.”

“My own wife,” Steve laments. “How could she do this to me?”

Robin smacks him, and flails her way across the counter to do the same to Eddie, who smacks her back. They get into a minor slap fight that Steve debates breaking up before deciding to ignore it.

Finally they separate, rubbing their now red hands.

Steve sighs and takes Robin’s. “You know better than to get in fights with Eddie,” he chides, rolling his eyes. “His rings give him an unfair advantage, and his hands are huge.”

Robin snorts. “No they’re not.”

“Compared to yours.”

“Why are you studying his hands?” She asks mischievously, and Steve clams up. There’s no way he’s answering that in front of Eddie.

Eddie, for his part, just snickers.

“Don’t worry about my hands,” he whispers to Steve. “We both know yours are bigger.”

Steve can’t stop the ugly snort that escapes him. “Did you…” he starts, trying and failing to keep a straight face, “want to compare sizes?”

“Yeah, okay, I’m out,” Robin declares over their giggling, and heads into the office.

Steve and Eddie watch her go. “How long do you think it’ll take until she’s bored?”

“Five seconds, tops.”

“I can hear you!” She storms out immediately, fake fury on her face. “And what gives you the right to like tits, anyway?”

“It’s not like I spend any time thinking about them. They’re body parts. It’s like thinking about… I dunno, an arm or something.” Eddie pauses, and his eyes drop to Steve’s crossed arms. He subtly flexes, and tries not to be too smug about the way Eddie licks his lips. “Actually, they do less for me than that.”

“See, that makes sense!” Robin says. “Steve’s the weird one. How can you be gay and like girl’s boobs?”

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs. He really doesn’t understand the confusion. It’s not like he’s getting off on them or anything. He just likes the way they feel. “Sometimes when I think about it, I’m the one with the boobs. That seems pretty gay to me.”

Eddie turns several very alarming shades of red and starts to choke.

“Aww, Eddie, did you think about Steve with boobies?” Robin teases, and Eddie blushes so hard he’s almost purple.

Steve can’t blame him for having such a dramatic reaction. He’d be hot as fuck with tits.

All thoughts fly out of his head when Eddie throws himself across the counter to stare him down.

“Steve,” he says, holding him by the shoulders. “Steve, I need to know, do you know what drag is?”

He lights up. “Oh man, you wanna go racing? Fuck yeah, no one’s done it with me since Tommy and I stopped being friends. Like, come on, there’s nothing else to do—“

“What? No, no, no, no, not cars. I mean drag. Like drag queens?”

Steve stares at him blankly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Come on, man.” Eddie gives him a shake. “Think about it. Drag is metal as hell right? Takes a lot of balls to dress like that. And then going on stage. I mean, imagine!”

“I guess it is pretty cool,” he agrees, mind filled with how easily Eddie can move him. He swears this guy used to be skinny. Walking through the halls with stick arms flailing around. He still flails, but he’s broader now. Bulked up a bit now that he’s reached his twenties. Steve’s still stronger, but it’s enough to make him lightheaded.

Robin gives him a subtle kick, and he realizes he’s just been staring into Eddie’s eyes.

“Yeah, it’s really cool. Super cool. More metal than Ozzy. Ever thought about it?”

“What.” It’s not a question.

“What?” Robin echoes.

“Just,” Eddie’s lost steam now, slowly turning red again, “what you said, about having tits. Plus, you’re a total badass, you could absolutely pull it off. Put you in some lipstick and heels and get you on a stage. It’d be fucking amazing.”

He’s looking a little starry eyed now, and Steve feels bad about bursting his bubble. “Yeah, no. I’m not doing that.”

“Oh.” Eddie deflates, looking like a kicked puppy. Robin is kicking him again, harder, and he kicks her back.

“I’m not against dressing up,” he clarifies, even though he is a little bit. Lip gloss is one thing, but there’s no way in hell he’s putting on heels and chances of getting him in a dress are iffy at best. Not a firm no, because he truly believes he’d look hot if he ever actually tried it, but iffy. But Eddie looks so disappointed, and his wife won’t stop glaring at him. “There’s just no way in hell I’m doing it in front of a bunch of people. I can’t sing, man, I’d get laughed off stage.”

He perks up again. “So you might do it if there wasn’t a stage?”

“Ha!” He laughs. “No.”

Robin bruises his shin for that.

“I’m coming out to them,” Robin declares on a random Wednesday.

Steve stops in the middle of heating up dinner. “Them?”

“The kids,” she clarifies. “I want them to know about me.”

He turns around and studies her. He knows Will talked to her. She didn’t tell him details, but he does know that she ruffles his hair and calls him “Baby Byers” with a fondness she never had before. Will always looks secretly pleased about it, even as he ducks his head to dodge her hands. He just wasn’t sure she would come out to the other kids. After so many years keeping it a secret, he knows she’s overwhelmed with the amount of people who know now, even if it doesn’t seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things.

“When?”

“Tonight. At their game.”

“So now you’re just blatantly copying me?”

She smacks him for that.

By the time they arrive in the Wheeler’s mangy basement, she’s shaking like a leaf. Steve puts a hand on her arm, leaning closer so the others can’t hear. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he whispers. “It’s none of their business.”

“Shut up, I’m doing it,” she mutters back. “I’ve come too far to chicken out now.”

He raises his hands in acknowledgment. “Okay, okay. But if you do chicken out, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Dingus.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Eddie asks. The kids break in their argument, turning to stare at them in a way that sends shivers up Steve’s spine. Why did they do it in unison like that? Don’t they know how creepy it is? Do they fucking practice?

“We’re having a marital spat,” Robin says.

“That’s what you get for marrying a gay man,” Erica says unsympathetically. “I told you it was a bad deal.”

“You did?” Steve’s jaw drops in offense.

“Just the facts! Why would you sign your life away like that if you’re not getting anything out of it? It’s bad business.”

“What do you know about business?” Will asks. “You’re twelve.”

“More than you.”

“Well it’s actually a pretty good deal for me, too,” Robin interrupts shakily. “Considering I’m a lesbian and all.”

They all stare at her, much the same way they did Steve.

“Cool,” Max finally says.

“Thanks for telling us,” Lucas adds.

“I thought lesbians were cooler than that,” Erica says.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Is everyone going to come out while we’re trying to play DND?”

“I knew it!” Dustin exclaims, ignoring him entirely. Steve ignores Mike’s snide “We all knew, shut up,” because he’s gracious like that.

“What’s a lesbian?” El asks, and Will leans over to whisper in her ear.

Robin sags in relief, but Steve feels indignation rise inside of him. “Woah, what the hell, guys?” He demands. “Why aren’t you giving her the third degree?”

Dustin frowns at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You grilled me for days. I had to answer so many of your questions, but Robin comes out and it’s just ‘cool, time to keep playing our nerd game!’”

Eddie snorts.

“Well,” Lucas says blankly, like it’s obvious, “yeah. You’re Steve.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s different when we ask you things,” Dustin shrugs.

“How is it different?” He complains. “Robin and I are basically the same person. Actually, I’d argue Robin knows more about being gay than me!” How many times does he have to say he doesn’t know the answers to their questions for them to believe him? Do they think he’s living some kind of secret gay life? He fucking wishes he were living some kind of secret gay life.

Robin nudges him. “They’re saying you’re the favorite, Dingus.”

“No he’s not,” Mike says immediately. Contrary little bastard.

“Yes he is,” Erica retorts, not even bothering to look up.

Steve’s touched, honestly. “I’m your favorite?”

“If it’s between you, this long haired freak, and Miss Motormouth over there? Yes. Even if you did forget to tell me you got married.”

He’ll take it.

“Hey!” Robin and Eddie protest.

“Can we just play our game?” Will asks. “I have to be home in time for dinner.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Lady Applejack, this betrayal will not be forgotten. You’re rolling with disadvantages until you state on the record that I, Eddie the Banished, am your favorite babysitter.”

“No I’m not.”

“No you’re—“ Eddie splutters. “I’m your dungeon master, you will if I say so!”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, unconcerned. “And what if I told Steve what I found in your old campaign notebook? From…what year was it? Eighty-two?”

Eddie’s mouth drops open. “Where did you find that?!”

“Wait, what did you find?” Dustin leans forward, like he can read into her mind if he tries hard enough.

Lucas grimaces. “Is this anything like the blackmail you have on me?”

Even Will is leaning forward, interested.

Erica just looks Eddie in the eye, silently daring him. He stares back just as venomously.

Finally, Eddie breaks first.

“Fine,” he hisses. “You roll with a plus two on charisma for the rest of this campaign, you scheming little shit.”

Erica leans back, satisfied. “Thank you,” she says, and turns to Will. “That’s business.”

Will is too stunned to reply.

It’s a short session today, only three hours. One by one, everyone else makes their way upstairs for cookies until Steve and Eddie are the only ones in the basement.

“So what’s in that notebook?” He asks idly, handing Eddie a die that fell on the floor. It’s shaped like a triangle. He can’t resist poking one of the corners.

Eddie stares at the die in his hand. He blinks at it, then at Steve, slowly turning red.

Then he bolts.

Steve’s left there, in a stinky basement, surrounded by nerd shit he doesn’t understand.

“Ooookay?” He says slowly, to empty air.

When he tells Robin about it later she laughs so hard she tumbles off the couch.

“It’s porn.” She lays on the floor, chest heaving. He nudges her with a toe, and she bats his foot away. “It’s definitely some kind of nerd porn about you. What did you do in ‘82 that would appeal to a gay nerd?”

He feels his face turn bright red. “Fuck off, it is not.” He kicks her leg. “And I didn’t do anything!”

“No, no, c’mon. Think about it. 1982, what happened?”

He sighs, but humors her. “Uh…it would have been the end of freshman or beginning of sophomore year. I joined the basketball and swim teams around that time. Got my braces off. I got my first keg record. Oh!” He flicks his hair. “I figured out how to style my hair. That was a big thing.”

“Of course it was,” she says dryly. “You’re so gay.”

“And yet I’ve given a woman an orgasm, something you’ve never done.”

“Low blow!”

They end up wrestling right there on the carpet until they’re laughing too hard to continue, laying side by side and gasping for air.

“Hey Steve?” Robin says once she’s caught her breath.

“Yeah?”

She links their pinkies together. “I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

“We signed a contract to be best friends for life, Buckley. There’s no way out now unless you’re willing to pay alimony.”

“You’re the rich bitch. You pay alimony,” she counters, and sighs happily. “Seriously though, that’s a nice way to think about it.”

“I know,” he says, squeezing her pinkie. “Hey, Robin?”

“Yeah?”

I don’t know who I would be now without you. I think you saved my life. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dingus.”

“I’m mad at you,” Dustin declares when he gets in the car, with all the air of announcing the Queen would be visiting. “I’m giving you the silent treatment.”

Steve stares at him. Why is it always something with this kid? He’s trying to be kind and considerate and not point out that he’s taking time out of his (incredibly boring, honestly) day to drive the little shit to the dentist, and this is the thanks he gets?

“What? Silent treatment? For what?”

“For not having me as your best man!” He throws his hands up. “What the hell, Steve?”

“Are you kidding me? That was a month ago! I told you—“

“Yeah, spur of the moment, whatever. I’m still mad. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” Steve says, brow furrowed. “Are you really that mad that you didn’t get to be part of my fake wedding?”

“Did you legally get married? Sign paperwork and shit?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Are you living together?”

“We already had the deposit down.”

“Are you planning on getting divorced?”

“No!”

“Then it’s not a fake wedding!” He snaps. “Just because you’re both gay doesn’t mean it’s not real. You signed paperwork, Steve!”

Steve blinks, caught off guard by the insistence. “You’re…you’re actually mad about this, huh?”

“Yes,” Dustin replies, and then doesn’t say anything else. Puts his seatbelt on and waits pointedly for Steve to put the car in gear.

“Dude,” he says, exasperated.

“Silent treatment,” Dustin reminds him.

“You’re really bad at silent treatment. We’ve already had an entire conversation since you first told me.”

“I needed you to know why I’m mad at you,” he says. “And now you know. Can we go now?”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Divorce your wife and get married again,” he says immediately. “With me there this time.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Steve says.

“Then silent treatment it is.”

“For how long?”

“Until I decide it’s been long enough.”

“Are you going to keep answering my questions while you give me the silent treatment?” He asks, amused despite himself. Dustin scowls in realization of what Steve’s doing, annoyed, and doesn’t answer.

“Fine, then,” he sighs, putting the car in gear. “I guess I can finally play Cindy Lauper without your bitching. What a tragedy.”

“Hey!”

“Robin,” Steve says, throwing open the door to her room. “Robbie, we need to have a wedding.”

She doesn’t even look up. “We had a wedding,” she reminds him. “You were there. We signed the paperwork together.”

“No, like, an actual wedding,” he stresses. “Dustin is giving me the silent treatment because he didn’t get to be my best man.”

Robin raises her eyebrows. “Is he capable of silent treatment?”

“No, he’s really bad at it. Keeps responding to whatever I say, and then getting mad that he’s talking to me. It doesn’t matter. He’s mad at me, Robs.”

“Isn’t he mad all the time anyway? He’s fifteen. He’ll get over it,” she says. He pouts at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Are you serious about this? You want to have a wedding a month after we get married?”

“It could be fun!” He defends. “C’mon, weddings rock. Don’t you want to eat cake and dance?”

“We could do that right now.”

“With other people. Robin, please?” He makes his eyes as big as possible, and he can see her resolve crumbling.

“Oh my God, don’t give me the eyes,” she complains.

“Come on,” he says again. “It’ll be funny. We could make it into a big inside joke.”

She perks up at that, and he grins. Gotcha. “Like what?”

“Remember what your mom said about lavender?”

Wedding planning is harder than they thought, but at least there’s lavender at the wedding. They might actually go overboard.

“It smells like a fucking flower shop in here,” Dustin complains, juggling three vases and a clipboard.

“Zip it, Henderson. This is your goddamn fault.” Steve examines the area under the huge tent they rented. The wedding is outdoors, of course, given that 1) it’s early September now and 2) there was no way in hell they were doing this in a church. So the reception is going to be in the tent, and the ceremony itself will be just outside of it, closer to the woods. Steve plucks one of the vases out of Dustin’s hand and sets it on a table. He has to scramble to keep the other two from slipping.

“Dude!”

“Dude,” Steve mocks. “Go put those vases down and tell me what I’m missing.”

Dustin stalks away, muttering something about a Bride-gorgan under his breath. Steve graciously doesn’t yank him back to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

He looks down at his clothes instead. Smoothes down his outfit. The wedding is fairly casual, so there’s no need for a suit and tie. Now, though, he’s second guessing the lavender shirt and brown slacks.

“Does this wash me out?” He asks no one.

“What?”

“Jonathan!” He spins around and grabs a startled Jonathan by the arm, nearly knocking the camera out of his hands. Will snickers at his brother’s misfortune, before yelping as Steve snags him too and drags them both around the corner.

“Steve, what’s—“ Jonathan starts, concerned.

“Do I look hot?” He demands.

He chokes. Will makes a wheezing noise, and they both turn pink.

“I, um, I don’t…” Jonathan fumbles. Will is silent, turning steadily redder and avoiding Steve’s gaze.

“C’mon, man, it’s a simple question,” he whines. How’s he supposed to trust their photographer if he doesn’t even know what looks good? Unless he’s trying to spare Steve’s feelings. “Oh, God, I’m hideous aren’t I?”

“No!”

“I’m going to look ugly on my wedding day. My entire life I’m going to have to look at those pictures and know I was ugly at my wedding. My mother was right. What if she was right about everything?”

Shit, maybe he is just like his father.

“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s…let’s go sit down for a minute.”

They guide him to a chair as he babbles, words tumbling over each other until they nearly blend together.

“—and the next thing you know, I’m cheating on my wife and paying the secretary to get rid of the baby,” he finishes with a touch of hysteria.

“Isn’t the whole point of this…is that it’s not cheating?” Will asks tentatively.

“And I really doubt you’re going to knock anyone up,” Jonathan adds dryly. “Considering.”

“What if it’s a guy with a vagina?” He counters, because he’s not done panicking.

“…you can cross that bridge when you get to it.”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Why am I even worried about this? We’re already married. I wore a polo and jorts to our actual wedding, and here I am freaking out because our lavender isn’t purple enough.”

Will pats him on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s because other people are here?” He suggests.

Steve drops his head into his hands. “Probably. Ugh, this is all Dustin’s fault.”

Will walks away to go help his mom, and Steve takes another deep breath before facing Jonathan. “You’d tell me if I looked ugly, though, right?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says solemnly, making pointed eye contact with him. Steve’s eyes nearly jerk away on instinct, but he soldiers on, “I have seen you beat within an inch of your life and you still managed to make a black eye and bruised ribs look good. Your shirt looks fine. You look fine. You’re gonna be the hottest person at this wedding.”

Well hello devastatingly awkward feelings from when he was seventeen and repressed, so nice of you to show up again! Take a seat, enjoy the show as he tries to make his mouth work.

Jonathan tracks his slowly reddening face with an amused look.

“Shut up,” Steve finally croaks.

“Hey, man, I’m just telling you what you need to hear,” he chuckles, releasing his shoulder and straightening his collar. Steve’s face heats up even more as he bats Jonathan’s hands away.

“So I am ugly?”

“Stop fishing for compliments. C’mon, let’s get you married again. Can’t let that outfit go to waste.”

“Flirting with a taken man, Byers?” He jokes, and immediately regrets it. Luckily, Jonathan just laughs.

“Gotta feeling your wife won’t mind.”

Over Jonathan’s shoulder, Steve sees Eddie stop and look at them, something unreadable crossing over his face.

“C’mon,” Jonathan says, tearing his attention away from Eddie. “I think you’re getting ready in my room.”

The wedding is in their backyard because the Hopper-Byers’s have the most space and it’s clandestine enough to stop people from asking questions. Not that word won’t make it around town anyway, given that they’ve invited the kids’ parents as well, but they’re trying to keep it on the down low.

The boys of the party, minus Will and Jonathan, crowd around him. He knows Robin is in El’s room as the girls do the same thing. Nancy came down from Boston to be her maid of honor, which Steve playfully complained about for two seconds until she pointed out that it would be really, really funny.

The boys are honestly unnecessary, because he’s already dressed and it’s not like he needs other people to help him do his hair. He appreciates the moral support nonetheless.

“Right. I’m ready.” He nods, full of fake confidence and hairspray. “How’s my hair? Lavender is totally my color, right? You guys weren’t just saying that?”

“Oh my God,” Mike rolls his eyes. “How did no one know you’re gay?”

“Stop stereotyping me and sit down,” he snaps. Why does he hang out with these shitheads? All they do is ask for rides and undermine his confidence.

“Oooh, big word,” Mike snarks back, and leaves before he can retaliate. He’s going to wring that kid's neck one day.

Eddie chuckles, moving in front of him. “You look fucking eatable, Harrington,” he promises. It’s a big enough compliment that he lets the use of his old last name slide, even though he really, really wants to correct him. “It’s a shame your wife is such a dyke, she can’t even appreciate how good you look right now. If I saw you on the other side of that aisle you’d never leave our marriage bed.”

He can’t help but sway towards him, close enough to kiss. “That a promise?” He murmurs. “I’m sure my wife can find another place to sleep tonight.”

“Oh, you dog!”

“Uh, hello?” Dustin interrupts, because he’s a bastard who hates Steve and doesn’t want to see him happy. Lucas is also watching them like a particularly interesting basketball match. “Not that I’m not interested in where this is going, because I’m very happy for you two, but no kissing until after the ceremony. The ceremony that we will be late for if we don’t start moving!”

“That doesn’t apply to me and Eddie,” Steve protests.

“Aww, were you gonna kiss me?” Eddie makes smooching sounds at him. Steve shoves him away with a palm to his face.

“Go sit down,” he demands, and Eddie weaves around his hand to smack a loud kiss against his cheek before bounding away.

“Ew,” Lucas says fondly.

Steve is unfortunately rendered speechless.

Dustin watches him with a kind of bored fascination. “I can’t believe you used to have game,” he says, disappointment dripping from every word. “You wasted it all on girls you didn’t care about, and now look at you. You’re hopeless.”

“Thanks, Dustin. That’s really what I needed to hear right before my wedding.”

“You’re welcome. Now go get married again.” And with that, he’s shoved out of the room and down the hall, Lucas closing the door behind them.

“Dude, stop pushing me! You’re gonna wrinkle my clothes!”

“Walk faster!”

“It’s my wedding, I’ll walk as fast as I want!”

“Robin’s gonna start walking down the aisle and you won’t even be there yet! What are you gonna do when that happens, Harrington?”

“It’s Buckley,” he hisses back, and glares when Lucas laughs at them.

They get to their places just in time. He’s barely settled down when people start standing for the bride's theme. He looks, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Eddie watching him instead of Robin. Wayne nudges his nephew, trying to direct his attention to where it should be. Steve sends him a quick, private grin before turning to the woman he’s spending the rest of his life with.

Robin looks incredible in her lavender dress, the fabric flowy and stopping at mid-calf. She and her dad wear matching smiles, arm in arm as they walk down the aisle together. She stops at the end to give Nancy her lavender bouquet before she takes a deep breath and turns to Steve.

They take each other’s hands before they look at everyone who came today.

Mrs. Henderson sits where his parents would, if they were here. He tries not to let that get to him, but he sees Dustin grinning at her from his spot as best man and has to wipe away happy tears before the ceremony has even started.

“Sap,” Robin whispers, because she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He pinches her wrist in retaliation as the speech starts.

Murray must have clocked them a mile away, because his officiant speech is riddled with so many hidden jokes and innuendos Steve starts to sweat. He meets Robin’s eyes, and can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, he was their only choice, seeing as he’s ordained in the state of Indiana and Dustin insisted they get someone legit. There was no way in hell they were inviting Father Carver or any other preacher in Hawkins. Still, every time he makes a badly hidden joke that has Hopper eying them suspiciously Steve has to stop himself from kicking him in the shins.

Finally they say their vows, and Robin tries to dip him for a kiss that makes everyone around them cheer. Tries, because even though they’re only 3 inches apart in height he still has at least 30 pounds on her and has to do most of the work holding his own weight up. He’s pretty sure Jonathan got a picture of it, the bastard. He just knows he’s going to be seeing copies of it for the rest of his life.

It’s not all bad, though. They get to hold hands and run down the aisle, laughing as people throw rice. Erica pelts it at them as hard as she can, which actually kind of stings. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mrs. Sinclair scold her quietly.

The reception is fun. There’s food and drinks, and the makeshift dance floor (made of a large wooden platform he doesn’t know where Hopper found) next to a boombox they didn’t let Eddie or Jonathan near. The massive tent traps heat inside, and he’s positively dying in his long sleeves, even after forgoing an undershirt. He unbuttons the top three buttons and rolls his sleeves up, and Robin wolf whistles at him. He sneers back before pulling her onto the floor with him for their first dance.

It’s to Holding Out For A Hero, because of course their first song had to be Bonnie Tyler, and it mostly consists of them jumping around and having the time of their lives. Robin’s dress flares when she spins, and Steve tries his best to make her dizzy enough to fall over. The kids are also on the floor, because they don’t give a fuck about the sanctity of marriage or tradition. Their parents look politely bewildered, but don’t try to stop them. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair even join in, and he sees Robin’s parents twirling around out of the corner of his eye.

After that, Robin separates from him to dance with her dad, and Steve is immediately accosted by several people vying for his attention.

Dustin gets to him first, then El, then Erica. Mrs. Henderson too, singing loudly along to the music and being so happy about it that Steve can’t help but join in.

Murray even takes him for a spin. “How’d you like my speech?” He asks, clearly pleased with himself.

“It was great,” Steve says flatly. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin dancing with Nancy, their lavender and blue dresses flowing seamlessly. “I think Robin and I were three more jokes away from taking out your kneecaps and making Dustin do the rest.”

“That kid would have been even worse than me. No appreciation for subtlety.”

He laughs despite himself. “Is that what you call that?”

“If the shoe fits.” He twirls him under his arm, even though he’s only a little taller than Steve. He stumbles through it, and raises an eyebrow when they’re face to face again.

“Does the shoe belong to a clown?”

“Words hurt, kid. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Murray spins him out, and he bumps into someone’s chest. The person yelps, surprised, and hands come up to keep them both from falling. Steve turns around to apologize, but it dies on his tongue when he meets brown eyes.

He’s been spun directly into Eddie’s arms.

“Oops.” Murray grins, not even bothering to act like it was an accident. “My bad. Here, you can dance with him while I go get a drink.”

Damn the guy is smooth. Steve catches a final wink before he wanders away to a table, and he takes back every bad word he’s ever thought about Hopper’s conspiracy theorist buddy. He’s Steve’s new best friend. Robin has been demoted to wife.

Eddie takes his hands.

Abruptly, the boombox stops, and everyone on the dance floor turns to where Dustin is fiddling with the tapes. “It’s fine!” He hollers, waving them off. “Keep dancing, it’ll be back on in a minute!”

When he puts the new tape in, it’s a slow song.

“Oh, that scheming little shit,” Steve mutters as Dustin winks obnoxiously in his direction.

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. He’s so fucking gorgeous in the sunlight. “Well?” He asks, still holding his hands. “You gonna dance with me, sweetheart?”

He casts a wary eye around, but the Buckley’s have taken everyone’s attention by performing a vibrant tango that doesn’t go with the song at all. Mrs. Buckley winks at him from over her husband's shoulder, and he can’t help but grin.

“Gonna show me your moves, Munson?”

Neither of them really know how to slow dance, so it mainly just consists of swaying in place like they’re at prom. It’s still better than any high school dance Steve’s ever been to.

At one point, Eddie decides that he has to lead Steve in some sort of shabby waltz that his parents would probably cry at. It makes him grin, and catches him completely off guard when he’s dipped.

His eyes widen, and he scrambles at Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie just laughs, loud and bright. Steve watches him, and wonders again what it would be like to kiss him here, in the open. Like this, with Eddie’s undershirt (band tee) tucked into black slacks, and Steve in his lavender and brown, he can almost imagine that it’s their wedding. That it was Eddie’s ring on his finger. It’s a ridiculous thought. They’re not even together yet, even if it was legal. Besides, he doesn’t regret marrying Robin. Not for a second. He wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

Still, he wishes he could kiss him right now.

Eddie’s smile turns sad, like he knows what he’s thinking, and he pulls him up and into a twirl.

He catches Hopper’s eye from across the room, and his heart stops at the knowing look on his face. But all he does is nod and raise his beer bottle in acknowledgment and support.

He smiles, and lets himself be twirled back into Eddie’s arms.

The three of them stumble back to Steve and Robin’s apartment hours later, worn out and laughing so hard they almost fall over. Wayne didn’t question it when Eddie waved off a ride home, just gave them a knowing look and told them to be safe. Steve gave him a regrettably dorky salut back.

“You gonna,” Eddie pauses for breath, even though they only had to climb two flights of stairs. “You gonna carry your man over the threshold, Buckley?”

“Oh hell yes,” Robin declares, and Steve’s eyes widen.

“No.” He says. “No, no, no, no, no—“

She does.

Robin heaves him up with difficulty, and he flails before realizing that will get him dropped and starts clinging to her for dear life. “Robin, oh my God, put me down.”

“No,” she wheezes, determined. “I’m gonna do it.”

Eddie grins. Steve sighs, and braces himself for bruises.

They get an astonishing two steps in the doorway, bashing Steve’s elbow, head, and both his knees, before she trips and falls. He tries to be a nice landing pad, but it’s difficult when the breath is knocked out of him.

They groan in unison. Eddie steps over them delicately, laughing at their pain. Bastard.

“I think you broke my everything,” Steve grumbles.

“‘S’what you get. Why are you so heavy?”

“Jealous, Buckley? That was 180 pounds of beefcake right there. Girls use to dream of being held in my muscled arms!”

“Lotta good that did them,” Robin mutters. He kicks her. She kicks him back.

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Eddie says. He extends a hand to Steve, who eagerly takes it. Any second spent holding his hand is a second well spent, in his opinion.

“Are you not gonna help me up?” Robin demands. “Are you neglecting to tenderly hold my hand and help me to my feet, Eddie? Does our friendship mean nothing to you? Am I destined to die alone on this cold, hard floor?”

“Sorry, Buckley.” Eddie grins with his tongue between his teeth, still holding his hand even though he’s on his feet. “You’re just not as pretty as Stevie over here.”

“It’s sexism, is what it is.” She gets to her feet, eyeing both of them suspiciously. “I got earplugs, like, a month ago because I thought you were going to commit adultery a lot faster than this. Am I going to have to use them tonight? I need an answer, or I’m going to sleep in your bed with you and you’re definitely not fucking while I’m there.”

Eddie turns bright red, and his hand twitches in Steve’s. “I, um…”

“Take the earplugs with you,” Steve says. “And if we get a noise complaint, pretend your sex voice is super deep.”

“God, finally. I can’t believe you decided to wait until our wedding night. It’s offensive, honestly. I can’t believe this. Your poor wife, cold and alone while you—“

“You didn’t even want a wedding! And if you’re so upset about it, call Vickie. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to warm your bed.”

Robin throws a pen at him. He catches it, and she scowls. “Be safe yourself, Dingus. There’s condoms in the bathroom.”

“What? Why?” She makes a break for it, and he bolts after her. “Robin! I already have condoms in my room, why are they in the bathroom?” Her door slams, and he jiggles the handle as she cackles. “How do you even know my size?”

“Easy, I went for the extra small!” She shouts back.

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Fuck you!”

“I’m going to replace your vibrator with a toothbrush,” he threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I absolutely would.”

“Should I go?” Eddie asks. “Do you need me here for this?”

Steve whirls around and points at him. “Don’t you dare. We need to talk.”

“Oh, okay. That’s reassuring.”

“Yeah, Steve, why would you phrase it like that?” Robin asks, popping her head out the door. “You make it sound like you’re going to break up with him.”

“I’m gonna break up with you if you don’t mind your own business.”

“What’s mine is yours, babylove,” she sing-songs, “business or otherwise.” She gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Ugh.

“Don’t get your spit all over me!”

“Oh, fuck you! I’m giving you affection.”

“Give it to someone else!”

Later, when Eddie is snoring away in his bed and Steve is still wide awake, he goes into Robin’s room. She grumbles into her pillow when he shakes her.

“Scoot, Bucks.”

She rolls to the wall side, like she does every time they do this. He prefers to be facing the door, in case something comes through. That way he can protect whoever he’s with. The fight may be over, but he and Robin stored weapons under their beds a long time ago. Just in case.

Robin’s hand searches blindly for something as he climbs under the covers, hitting first his stomach then his thigh until she finds his hand and grabs it.

“All right?” She asks sleepily, intertwining their fingers.

“I’m fine,” he whispers back. “Just felt like I should share the bed with my wife on our wedding night.”

I couldn’t sleep without you there goes unsaid.

They’ve been sharing a bed for a while now, even if they have their own rooms. Eddie was already fast asleep, but Steve couldn’t stand the thought of her all alone. He never wants her to be alone ever again. Isn’t that essentially what he promised her? To always be with you, in sickness and in health—

She’s already snoring again, balled up in all the covers she can hog. He slings an arm around her and finally falls asleep.

When he wakes up, he’s surrounded. He almost panics before he registers the arm around his waist. He knows those hands. They were inside him last night.

Eddie squeezes him in his sleep, snuffling into his ear. Robin’s curled up under his chin, hair tickling his nose. He has to move his head before he sneezes.

Steve smiles and snuggles in, content to sleep the day away.