The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”
Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”
The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner.
“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”
“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”
Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?
He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”
“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”
“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt.
He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”
“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip.
“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”
Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”
“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”
“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”
“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”
“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.”
“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel.
There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—
“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”
“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know.
He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.
(ETA: small continuation here!)
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itoshi sae spends most of his free time in your apartment than in his.
it’s gotten to the point you’ve actually given him your spare key.
it’s also gotten to the point you have to write your name all over your snacks to keep sae from eating them.
so, it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come back home to find him sitting in your couch watching a movie. what does surprise you is the object with your name written all over it in his hands.
“why are you eating my chips?”
“you’re back earlier than usual.” he hums before eating another chip.
you walk closer to him. “why are you eating my chips?”
he turns to look at you, “i got hungry.”
“i bought you a bag of chips last time i went shopping,” you cross your arms, “why didn’t you grab that one?”
“i finished it already.” he shrugs. “besides, you went out for groceries a week ago.”
“is there no food in your apartment?” you try to snatch the bag from his hands. he moves it out of your reach.
“why would there be?” he gives you a look, “i practically live here.”
“could you not go out to buy yourself more chips?” you glare at him, crossing your arms.
“i’m tired from practice.” he pouts. “you’re not gonna make someone tired walk all the way to the convenience store, are you?”
“it’s literally a two minute walk from here,” you deadpan.
sae blinks. he reaches out to grab another chip before you smack his hand away.
“stop trying to eat my chips!” you cry.
“i’m hungry!”
“order some food then.” you scoff, “order some for me too while you’re at it.”
he clicks his tongue in annoyance, “so bossy.”
(he still takes out his phone and asks you what you want, though.)
“have you eaten any of the other stuff with my name on it?” you plop down next to him on the couch.
“it’s got your name?” he laughs when you punch his arm.
“i grabbed an apple from your fridge.”
“those don’t have my name on them,” you bite down a smile.
“i know,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i did grab the chocolate bar you hid behind the orange juice, though.”
he heartily laughs when you gape at him.
“you thief!” you smile, tackling him, “i’m gonna run out of food because of you!”
he smiles at you, “just go grocery shopping more often then.”
you tsk, shaking your head, “it seems you know nothing of the world, my dear sae.”
you snicker when he grabs your face and presses a kiss against your cheek.
“i know more than you.” he pecks your other cheek.
“i’m afraid you don’t.” you shake your head again, clicking your tongue, “i can’t just go out and buy more than necessary because my asshole boyfriend wants more snacks.”
he pinches your cheek, “all the snacks in the kitchen have your name written on them.”
“it’s only fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, “this is my apartment, you’re just freeloading here.”
he scoffs, “rude.”
“not any ruder than you,” you pout.
“maybe i should just move in with you so you can stop calling me a freeloader.”
you hum, “maybe you should.”
“will you buy me snacks if i move in with you?”
you poke his cheek with a grin, “maybe.”
he hums, “good enough.”
you wrap your arms around him, “was this your plan? eating my snacks so i would let you move into my apartment?”
he wraps an arm around you in return, reaching out for a chip with the other one, “totally.”
sae laughs when you slap his hand away. “let me eat them!”
“they’re still mine,” you frown.
“they’re practically mine by extension, seeing how i live here now too.” he rolls his eyes.
you rest your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes. “fine. i suppose i can let you have them as a welcoming gift.”
you smile against his shoulder when you hear the bag of chips crinkle as sae moves it closer to him. your smile widens when his arm tightens around you.
you suppose sacrificing a bag of chips in exchange for having sae move in with you is not a bad deal, after all.
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