(wait for the season to come back to me tag)
It gets less strange, as time goes by. Eddie doesn’t make any kind of noise about him moving out at some point, and neither do Steve and Robin. Turns out they don't need to store any bodily fluids in the fridge, and in fact if Steve didn't know better, he wouldn't be able to tell that Eddie's drinking blood at all. Steve assumes he's getting animal blood from somewhere on a regular basis, but as far as either Steve or Robin can tell, he never takes it inside the apartment.
Anyway, it turns out Eddie can still technically eat human food, but about half of it tends to come back up afterwards. They’re still figuring out what works and what doesn’t. Robin made a little chart with smiley-face and frowny-face stickers, which Eddie has been gleefully filling out. He’s drawn little fangs onto the stickers with a Sharpie.
That’s another thing: to Steve’s mild surprise, Eddie and Robin have been getting along like a house on fire.
“I really wish I’d known him in high school,” says Robin, slicing bell peppers for dinner. “I think it would’ve made Hawkins a lot more bearable.”
Steve doesn’t really remember Eddie at all from school, which is probably a really good thing.
He can’t imagine the guy he was back then being this obsessed with Eddie. Well, no, that’s not true. He can imagine it, but he’d have been such a jackass about it. Probably would’ve fucked a few girls about it. Maybe would’ve even bullied Eddie about it.
“Did you come out to him yet?” Steve asks Robin.
Robin leans all the way out the kitchen door, practically horizontal. Steve grabs the back of her belt so she doesn’t overbalance. “Hey! Hey, Eddie!” she yells.
“What, Buckley!” he yells back.
“I’m gay!”
“Cool, me too!”
She lets Steve’s grip swing her back in, grinning. “Your turn, dingus.”
Steve’s going to. He is. The longer he waits, the more awkward it gets. He’s got nothing to lose. He—
Robin takes him by the shoulders, spins him around, and pushes him out into the living room.
“Uh,” he says. “I’m—bisexual.”
Eddie actually does, like, a full-body twitch; his eyebrows climb practically to his hairline for a second, and he sets down his book.
“I’m…very proud of you? Thank you for telling me?”
“Why are you being weirder about me than Robin,” says Steve, annoyed.
“Because you’re being weirder about it than Robin was! I don’t know, I don’t have a lot of practice with, uh, this. Also, Robin was a band geek who dressed like Annie Hall, and you were—popular.” He draws out popular like it’s got three key changes in it, waving his hands in the air.
“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffs. “Sorry I wasn’t, like, alternative enough to be a real queer.”
“No, c’mon, Steve, I didn’t mean it like that. I accept you! Buckley, get in here and accept Steve with me.”
“Ste-eve Harrington,” Robin sings out, wandering out of the kitchen to wrap her arms around Steve’s waist. “We accept you and your beautiful bisexual soul.”
“Thanks,” says Steve dryly.
Eddie points at him. “Feel accepted.”
“I feel accepted,” Steve says; daring, he holds out an arm, and Eddie hops up to let Steve pull him into the hug too.
“Good,” says Eddie into Steve’s shoulder. “You should be.”
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