R̶a̶l̶p̶h̶i̶e̶ Eddie - e.m + s.h

Leave with Steve.

She takes a second, thinking through her options in their entirety. One side is screaming to stay with Eddie, Have a good night, and avoid a DUI. She could get Steve to forgive her in the morning - if he even remembered. Plus, Nancy and Jonathan are leaving anyway, so nobody would be missing out. But the other took one look at Steve and filled her with worry. What's going on with him? If he found out Nancy and Jonathan took him home, that would break him. He's a sensitive soul. But she was fried out of her mind.

"I'd uh-" Eddie interrupts her thought. "I'd really like it if you'd stay. Y/N"

And so she chooses...

"I don't think I'd ever forgive myself If I left him like this," She admits, looking down at the boy whose fingers found themselves intertwined with hers. "I'll walk him, I'm not really that far anyways.

"We can just drive you both?" Jonathan answers, opening the front door. Nancy ducks under his arm, and exits.

"You don't mind?" Y/N asks, "it's really no bother walking,"

"Not at all," Nancy answers, "But, we gotta go now, My mom's already not happy"

Y/N waves a quick goodbye to Eddie, who just smiles defeatedly as a response. She balances Steve as he pushes himself from the chair and down the path to Jonathan's Ford. Clambering into the backseat, Steve takes Y/N's hand and laces their fingers once more.

It's not smooth, and it definitely doesn't go unnoticed by everyone in the car. But nobody says anything. Nancy just gives a knowing glance to Y/N in the wing mirror as they drive down the road.

Steve's house is large and empty. There are plenty of things and more than enough furniture. A piece of art on every wall, and a rug on every inch of hardwood floor. But there's an atmosphere that cannot be mistaken.

"Nobody's home," Steve slurs, sobering up since the car ride. He stands dejectedly in the hallway, lit only by a small lamp on Y/N's left side. "You can stay, if you want"

She just nods, locking the large front door. Steve wanders up the stairs, sleepy and drunk. Y/N follows, careful to rearrange the knocked picture frames and folded-over carpet caused by the boy ahead of her.

His room is the same as the rest of the house. Uniformed, clean, cold. It feels much too tidy to be a teenage boy's room, but it doesn't surprise Y/N. The race-car painting above his desk suggests to her that it had been that way since he was young. Steve flops onto his bed, face first. He kicks his shoes off.

"Here, Steve you need to take these clothes off," she tries, perching on the edge of the bed.

It doesn't take much of an argument though, as he complies almost immediately. Stripping down until nothing but his socks and boxers. Y/N found herself trying not to look. "What do you uh- sleep in?" she asks, conscious to look into Steve's bleary eyes and not at his hairy chest.

"Just my underwear," he slurs, "will you sleep with me?"

Its out of the blue, and definitely not phrased in the way it should have been, but Y/N understood what he meant. "I dunno, Steve" she hesitates.

"I don't want you to go. You can wear one of my shirts"

It's almost as if he assumed the only reason Y/N wouldn't say is that she had no pyjamas. It's a partial reason, but not the biggest. More so the connotations of his words, or the fact that he was drunk.**

She bites her lip, helping the boy under his covers. "Please?" Steve almost begs, eyes the widest they'd been all evening.

She wasn't sure exactly when she accepted his offer, but she clambered under the bed soon after. Dressed in nothing but her own underwear and vest top. Steves's legs are cold as he rubs them on hers. Socked feet kicking under the sheets as he wriggled his toes free from the cotton confines. He held her tight in his arms. Vodka-strong breath tickled her ears as the pair dosed off.

Sleepily, he whispers, "I like you Y/N"

The girl takes a moment to reply. "You're drunk, Stevie"

"am not," he protests.

"are too"

Silence befalls them again, Y/N's eyes closed. The pre-emptive measure of sleep. Steve talks again, "I really do though, and it's not just because you're in my bed" It's softer than before, more intimate sounding. Soberer

"You can tell me that in the morning then," Y/N states, "if you remember."

And he did.

He cut the shapes I ❤ U out of the pancakes she made for him, heart thumping out of his chest as he waited for her to eat with him.