we can't make any promises (now can we, babe?)

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tw: f-slur (sorry)

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steve's reputation had never been worse. there's rumors going around that steve's queer, that he's a faggot, a fucking fairy. the worse part is, is that it's true.

steve isn't ashamed. his parents and their pill-casing smiles, their snobby looks, their hate and judgement to anyone who looks or talks a little different than them, sure, they may be ashamed. but, as robin says, they can go fuck themselves.

he was always 'mama's boy', the rich-kid using daddy's money to get what he wants, the dickhead who sneers and points at lower society. he's changed, he knows it, robin knows it, nancy knows it, eddie knows it. hell, even jonathan goddamn byers knows it.

that seems to piss people off, that he's changed. how he's better. how he doesn't hang around bad people, treats everyone to the best of his ability, actually has friends that he loves and cares about, people he would risk his life over. boo-hoo, it isn't steve's problem. all he really cares about is eddie.

it's been an itch under steve's skin ever since the metalhead shoved his body up against the wall of the boathouse. the urge to grab eddie by his stupid collar and roughly kiss him whenever he's rambling about something so nerdy it's to the point that it's helplessly hot.

the want that is implanted into steve's bloodstream, how strong it is, to tell eddie that he loves him, how he doesn't want a girlfriend, a girl with glossy lips and fluffy hair, soft hands, sweet smiles and even sweeter laughs.

he wants eddie. a boy, a best friend, chapped lips and frizzy hair, calloused hands, sharp, megawatt smiles and booming laughs.

the want, the itch, the urge, whatever you want to call it, gets even worse when one afternoon, eddie leans over the kitchen island, forearms sliding against the granite countertop, and shoots a piercing smirk up at steve, asking him a question.

"i have a little mystery i need to solve, harrington. something has been bugging me all week, and im dying to ask ya."

steve perks an eyebrow up, glancing down at him. "okay, shoot."

he lets out an awkward laugh, then takes a steadying breath. "promise, pinkie promise, you won't freak out when i ask you this earth shattering question, okay?"

"fine, pinkie promise." steve nods, motioning for him to go on. "i've heard from a little birdy, well, multiple birdies, that you are, um, queer?"

steve chokes on air, eyes widened, already backing away, scared of what event might happen next. "i- what?"

eddie shoots up, raising him hands in the air, almost saying, you can trust me, im not disgusted by you. "look, i know robin is a lesbian, and i've heard shit from people in this hick town that you're, y'know, also a friend of dorothy."

now, his mind short circuits at that. eddie said 'also a friend of dorothy," which means he's also queer. no straight man knows the meaning of that saying, none. zilch. nah-da.

"you said 'also' in that sentence. are you saying that you're gay?"

eddie looks sheepish, then blinks.

"yeah. yes. yep."

okay, so, steve may not be so unlucky. "well, you're right, im gay. well, not gay, bisexual, if you wanna give it a label."

then, they stare at each other. flickering gazes across the other's face, unaware, uneasy, leaving steve with bile rising up his throat.

that is, until eddie lets out a bellowing laugh, folding over, slapping his knee, wiping salty liquids from his tears ducts. steve feels the weight lift off his shoulders, sighing, leaning against the kitchen cabinets, his head knocking against them with a dull thump.

"i was so prepared to be ready to yell at you to get out of my house. don't scare me like that, munson." steve shakes his head, biting the inside of his mouth to stop a dry laugh from coming out.

eddie looks back up, dark brown eyes sending a chill throughout the younger man's body. "can't make any promises, babe."

steve won't tell a soul, but he almost popped a full boner at the word 'babe' coming out of eddie's mouth, which was directed at steve. steven christian harrington. himself.

he covered up his strong attraction/magnetic pull (fuck his stupid heart) to eddie's pretty pink lips and sugar smile with a snort, scratching the back of his neck. "fuck you."

"you wish." eddie rolled his eyes playfully, of course, never being serious. "so, we're cool, right? no bad blood between us? it's not awkward, right? that we both like guys and are best friends?"

steve rolled his lips into a small, thin line. "nope, we're still best friends. it isn't awkward. boy scouts honor." he did a dumb sign with his fingers.

a giggle, then a hopeful, shining look. "yeah?"

he couldn't help but feel his heart swell everytime he looked at the wonderful man in front of him. steve couldn't rap his head around how he got such a perfect person in his life.

steve smiled sweetly, whispering like it was a secret, "yeah, eddie."