Soft
Eddie was beginning to regret coming out so publicly.
A majority of the group was unfazed. Some were a little wary, but mostly because they couldn't relate. Holly, who's name he'd only just learned, had a hundred and one questions about it. But she didn't seem repulsed by it.
The oldest Wheeler sibling, though? He couldn't understand why she was so put off by it.
Steve didn't elaborate much after that little episode of his. By the time he'd opened his eyes, Eddie had a new tissue pressed to his bloody nose.
The metalhead fought hard to ignore the conversations swirling around them. Especially Nancy's voice. It held a particularly grating quality. Something it hadn't had, before.
Steve was right. Something was very, very wrong. But now, he could see his love's hesitation. The cautious slide of his eyes as he looked between Eddie and the kitchen.
He wished he could shield Steve from this. That he could put him in a bubble, free of external influence. Let him breathe.
But he couldn't. No - all he could do, now, was wipe away the blood, sweat and tears, and remind Steve that he was safe. That he was loved.
Soon, Steve was asleep again. Eddie had leaned back against the arm of the couch, and Steve had quickly made himself comfortable.
His casted arm was pressed against Eddie's hip. A thin trail of drool was slowly soaking into Eddie's shirt, where Steve's face was pressed against his stomach.
Despite the fact that his man had practically plastered himself to the metalhead, Eddie found himself having to shift Steve's sleeping form in an attempt to regain feeling in his groin.
For some odd reason, Robin thought it was hilarious. And when the kids began quietly trickling into the room, she didn't hesitate to share her point of entertainment with them.
Said entertainment didn't hold them for long, though. The kids eventually made themselves comfortable, huddled together around the television to watch a movie. One Eddie was decidedly ignoring. Honestly, they'd been so quiet in their decision-making that he hadn't even caught the title.
In fact, Eddie wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed them being this quiet. He'd always assumed they were all like him - thoughts running a million miles a minute, volume knob turned to maximum.
But, they were proving him wrong. They could be considerate, apparently. It was a relief.
What was also came as a relief, was the moment Steve rolled completely onto his front. His shoulder was no longer pressed sharply into the joint of Eddie's pelvis, and the metalhead could feel the blood returning to his leg.
If he didn't love Steve so much, he might have made him move.
But it was okay, now. They were comfortable like this. Steve was holding Eddie's hips in a loose hug. His face was squished against his abdomen, his expression finally lax.
Eddie was thanking everything holy that Steve was finally getting some meaningful rest.
After months of the same hell, the tension finally seemed to leave his love's body.
Eddie let his head loll back onto the cushions, as he stared up at the ceiling. The fingers on his left hand absent-mindedly traced swirls across Steve's scalp. His right arm was bent under his own head.
As if the tension was leaving the room, Eddie felt himself drifting.
Not quite asleep, but definitely not present. Those million mile thoughts slowed, and he found himself imagining the future. Their future.
They'd get an apartment in Indy. Maybe a cat. Eddie was sure Steve was a dog person, but Eddie didn't like the idea of a dog in an apartment.
Maybe they would have to get a house. With a backyard, just so Steve could have a dog. And Eddie would get his cat. And they would be comfortable, and safe, and happy.
Hopefully, by then, Nancy would be... better?
Robin and her future girlfriend might have to join them. He liked the idea of sharing a living space with some of his closest friends. It brought a feeling of domestic bliss. Something he never thought he would've wanted.
But, now? After the shit they'd been through? He craved it.
Eddie woke to a finger poking his cheek and a weight on his chest. He knew, without opening his eyes, that it was Steve. Because his own fingers were still tangled in the hair at the nape of his man's neck.
Slowly, he peeled his eyes open. Only to be met with the sight of an unfamiliar pair of eyes staring at him.
Eddie jolted, and giggles filled the room. The girl's eyes crinkled as she laughed. Steve was laughing, too. The vibrations bounced between their bodies. Steve's head jerked under his hand.
"Jesus Christ, you scared the sh-hell out of me, kid."
He took as deep a breath as he could manage, with Steve laying on top of him.
Eddie looked down at his man. He had his cheek pressed to Eddie's chest, but his head was tilted back so he could watch Eddie's face.
Holly was still giggling, bouncing in place.
"Eddie, you were talking in your sleep," she announced, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Was I?"
Eddie had always been a sleep-talker. Mind you, it only ever got bad when he was stressed. He'd say that a time-loop, followed by his boyfriend (boyfriend?) nearly dying, before finding out said boyfriend had superpowers... was all reasonable grounds for stress.
Holly finally moved. She rounded the arm of the couch until she was standing next to them. Eddie watched Steve follow her with his eyes, his cheek sliding across the metalhead's chest as he watched her. She stepped close, leaning against the edge of the couch, before bending down to whisper something in Steve's ear.
Eddie didn't hear what she said, but it had Steve gasping in exaggerated shock. Which, in turn, sent Holly into a fit of giggles.
"Holly Wheeler, you cheeky girl," Steve whispered, poking her belly with his injured hand. She doubled over with a squeal, before running off, out of sight.
Eddie turned to look back down at his man, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
Steve rolled his eyes, settling back down with a huff. "She drew on my cast."
"What'd she draw?" Eddie prompted, moving to comb Steve's hair back from his forehead.
He watched Steve's eyes drift closed at the touch. He sighed softly, and Eddie could feel the warmth of his breath through his shirt.
"A princess," Steve replied after a moment. "Because when I used to babysit her, we always played princesses."
Eddie smiled fondly at that. He wrapped his free hand around Steve's cast, gently pulling it up so he could examine the art. Sure enough, along the back side of Steve's arm, there was a four inch tall princess. All uneven marker streaks and bright pink skirt, with brown hair and a yellow crown. It was absolutely adorable, and Eddie wanted to frame it.
It was genuinely odd. Something about this whole mess... Eddie could feel himself changing. Maybe it was because it was finally over. Or maybe it was the calm before another storm. Either way, Eddie was pretty sure he was going soft.
Imagine that - Eddie Munson... soft.
It was surreal.
But between Holly and her drawing, and the kids checking on them every few minutes, Eddie found that he didn't have it in him to push them away. He spoke to them in soft, gentle tones out of instinct. He alternated between having his free arm wrapped around Steve, and using it to pull the kids into awkwardly angled one-armed hugs. His other hand remained buried in Steve's hair.
As Eddie wasted the day away on the couch with his man asleep on top of him, the kids were began to trickle out the door. Being dragged away by their parents. Eddie was glad they were finally going home. They all needed proper rest, and he knew they weren't going to get it when they were still worrying about Steve.
Wayne hovered around them for a good chunk of the day. He kept asking Eddie if he needed anything. If he wanted a book. If he wanted help moving Steve. If he wanted to go back to bed.
It was weird. Uncle Wayne had always been quiet by nature. His helpful gestures were rarely accompanied by words. This felt out of character, and Eddie was beginning to worry that maybe the man had figured something out.
It felt a little like the whole house was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The next time Steve woke up, it wasn't as gentle as the previous go around.
The other man jolted against him, chest heaving and eyes wild. He'd sat up, back ramrod straight, body tense despite his injuries. And it took Eddie pulling him to his chest for Steve to take a breath.
"Shhh... shh... Stevie, you're okay... it's over, baby..."
The metalhead knew it would be like this. He knew it would take time before they would be nightmare free. That it could take years. Years he hoped they still had.
But it didn't lessen the blow, when Steve's mind finally woke up, and he started sobbing into Eddie's chest. Wayne was by their side in an instant, his hands hovering inches above Steve's shuddering back.
The adults trickled into the room - drawn in by Steve's distraught aura, and Eddie's worried cooing. Unsure what to do, and nervous to touch Steve, Wayne resorted to finger-combing Eddie's bangs back from his forehead.
"Eddie... what happened?" Joyce asked, leaning over the back of the couch to watch them.
"He had a nightmare–"
Joyce shook her head. "No. Something else happened. I- I've never seen Steve this... damaged. Even after Starcourt. After he was fu-freaking tortured. This is..."
She trailed off, her expression nothing but pleading. Eddie looked down at his man. He could tell Steve was listening, even if he was still upset. He had that pinched look - his forehead wrinkling, bruised skin pulling taught across his bones.
"I don't..." Eddie didn't know what to say. It felt like he was divulging a secret that wasn't his to tell. Like he was betraying Steve just by thinking about it.
And then Steve was meeting his eyes. And then he was nodding. And Eddie knew this was all the permission he needed.
"We-"
He cut himself off with a sigh. There was so much to tell, and he didn't know where to start.
Suddenly, Steve's hand gripped his own, and Eddie knew. He knew how he needed to weave this tale. He knew where it began.
"Steve watched me die more than 40 times."
There was a beat of silence, and Steve took the opportunity to mumble something into Eddie's shirt.
"What was that, honey?"
"...61. I- I did the math. I think it was 61."
Steve's admission had Eddie's mind in tatters. Guilt wracked through him, and yet... he knew there was absolutely nothing he could have done to stop it all. He knew Steve had been stuck for a long time. And he knew that Steve had been hesitant to calculate it, himself.
The fact that Steve had taken the time to add up just how many times he had witnessed Eddie bleed to death... it had a lump lodged in his throat.
Sixty-one. Sixty-one times. It was nothing compared to the measly single time Eddie had watched the life leave his love. Sure, he'd been there when Steve killed himself, but he hadn't been forced to watch.
Steve picked himself up, turning to face Eddie. The metalhead placed his hands on the other man's cheeks. He kept the touch light against the bruised skin.
"Sixty-one?" He breathed.
Steve nodded. His eyes held more grief than Eddie thought possible.
"Watching you die once had me spiralling. I'm so sorry, Steve."
He bent awkwardly at the waist. Wayne's hand left his hair, just as Eddie pressed his mouth to Steve's. His lips were still chapped, but he didn't taste like blood, anymore. And, here, they were safe.
When they parted, Eddie let his forehead rest against Steve's. "I'm so... sosorry."
"It's okay, Eds. You couldn't control it. None of us could."