Curate, connect, and discover
Jealousy works on Eddie. Much like flattery.
If you want all of Eddie's attention, giving yours to someone else is almost a surefire way to make that happen.
Because of this it takes Eddie far too long to realize that jealousy doesn't work on Steve.
It finally clicks into place for him on the night he decides to give up on Steve Harrington. It's been years of friendship and flirting and Steve has never taken the next step. (Eddie hasn't, either, but that's not the point.)
The point is it's been years. Years of ups and downs, of coming out to each other, of Corroded Coffin getting signed and rising in fame. Years of Steve job hopping until he settled in at a local little bookstore in Indy.
Years of Eddie never having a serious relationship, and neither did Steve. They just danced around each other, Eddie trying his best to make Steve jealous enough to make a move. But he didn't.
He never did. Never does.
And now he's here, back at the gay bar that he, Steve, and Robin used to be regulars at when they all first moved to Indy in the fall of '86, making the night of some random guy who was wearing a Corroded Coffin band shirt. They're grinding together more than actually dancing, faces so close that they'd be kissing if either of them would just pucker their lips.
And it's out of habit, of checking that he might see the green-eyed monster lurking within Steve's features, that he looks. His eyes flick from the face of this random fan to Steve, and he sees it.
Not jealousy. Never jealousy.
Instead, he sees what he's been missing all this time.
He watches as Steve catches that Eddie is looking, watches as Steve schools his features into a supportive smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Watches as Steve gives him a dorky ass two thumbs up.
Eddie stops dancing, tells the guy he's been dancing with he has to go, and beelines to Steve.
Because he saw.
He saw that he can't make Steve jealous because all he's been doing is making him sad.
Steve's eyes go wide in surprise, but he goes easily when Eddie takes his wrist and tugs him along.
"Eddie, man, what's up?" Steve asks once they're outside, his brows furrowed in the way they do when he's confused and concerned.
"You're in love with me," Eddie gasps, a revelation and an accusation all in one.
And Steve. Beautiful, perfect Steve, doesn't deny. In fact, he has the audacity to shrug sheepishly with one shoulder. "Of course, I am."
"What do you mean of course!?"
"I didn't- it's not a secret?" Steve cocks his head. "Or, I thought you knew."
"No! I mean, I knew you were attracted to me. We've- there's been so much flirting that bit was obvious, but this. This. God, Steve, you look like I'd just ripped your heart out and stomped on it. And I didn't know."
Steve is silent for a moment, a small frown on his face as he processes Eddie's words. "Oh. I thought you knew. Y'know, that it was just a part of our friendship."
It makes something sour within Eddie. "I- what? What do you mean 'part of our friendship'?"
"The- our thing. The flirting. We flirt but it's never more than that. It's like, uh, like a warm up. We flirt and then go out and I help you get laid by just being me. Y'know. Like how people want what they think they can't have, or that they want something just because someone else also wants it? That's what I do for you. I thought- well, I thought you knew. That it was part of your whole thing."
"My whole thing!? What thing? There's no thing!" Eddie feels like an asshole suddenly. Eddie had been trying to use those other guys to make Steve jealous, not make the other guys jealous using Steve. How had he not known? How had he not seen?
"Your kinky thing!" Steve hisses, high pitched and even though he's almost 30 Eddie sees that Steve is blushing. "That you like to be watched or whatever."
"I don't have an exhibitionism kink!" The few people who are also outside the bar turn to look when Eddie shouts but he does his best to ignore them. In a quieter voice, he asks, "why would you do that? Why didn't you ever just tell me you loved me?"
"Because I didn't want to actually hear you reject me?" Steve is now looking at Eddie like he's grown a second head. "I could survive the not having you, dude, but I don't think I could continue to be around if you'd actually said- if I heard you. What's this about, Eddie?"
"I wouldn't have rejected you," Eddie pleads, "I was- I won't reject you. Jesus, Steve, you're the only one I've really wanted!"
Eddie watches with horror as instead of happiness, Steve's face crumples.
"Don't," Steve says, voice water. "Don't. Just- don't. We- I can't be who you want. We can't- I'm fine. I'm fine with how we are. With how this always goes. Don't."
Eddie swallows down the immediate argument that wants to come. He's messed this up. He's fucked up so bad and wasn't even aware he was doing it. Steve's in love with him, apparently, and thought that Eddie knew and was okay with using Steve's affection to get with other people.
And he can't even- he can't even be mad that this is the conclusion Steve came to, because it's what he's been doing.
Clinging to other people, dancing with them, eventually taking them home. Trying to make Steve jealous enough to make a move, when he should have just been making a move. Pulling Steve onto the dance floor, clinging to Steve.
Going home with Steve.
"I think we need to talk sweetheart," Eddie says, "I've been- I've been doing this all wrong. I've gone about this the wrong way. Can we go home and talk?"
Home is, of course, the original apartment they all shared. A little two bedroom place where Robin and Steve shared a room until Robin moved into a place with her girlfriend. Then it was just Eddie and Steve until Corroded Coffin got signed.
And Steve still lives there. In that apartment that still has Eddie's name on the lease, just in case.
Steve swallows thickly, and Eddie sees the years of unintentional wounds behind his eyes. Years of thinking Eddie didn't want him. Even so, Steve nods.
"Yeah. We can talk at home."