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inhairently
[ Eddie had accepted that he was dying. It didn't matter if the bats were falling around them, or that Dustin had found his way back to Eddie, despite all of Eddie's attempts to keep him from coming down after him. He had made peace with it. It's not like he had much to live for, anyway. If they had managed to kill Vecna, what proof were they going to find to prove Eddie's innocence?
As far as Hawkins was concerned, he was as good as guilty. And even if he did survive, even if he did get his name cleared, what then? He's still a two-time supersenior with no future. It had always been a pipe dream, running the hell out of Hawkins.
So as he lay there, with Dustin hunched over him, he let go. And he thought to himself, this is it, maybe now he'll find peace.
Only peace never came. Because the next time he opens his eyes, he realizes he's still in that same hell that he thought he died in, only instead of Dustin accompanying his torn-to-shreds body, it's -- ]
Harrington? The fuck is going on? [ His voice comes out strained, and he is suddenly aware of every single part of his body that the bats had torn into. And in that moment he can't help but wish, even just for a moment, that he had died, if for no other reason than to stop feeling that unbearable pain. ]
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But he doesn't recoil, and he doesn't let go of Eddie's hand. )
Eddie... ( He begins gently, but the sentence trails off when he realizes he doesn't know how to finish it. "I'm not gay" is the defense that springs instinctively to his lips, but it doesn't feel right. In this moment it seems cruel, even. )
Don't start talking like that, alright? I told you, we're both getting out of here. ( He says it like he means it. Firm, direct, and with the slightest quiver that betrays how he really feels. He has to clear his throat before he can continue. ) We'll get patched up and we'll fix this bullshit with you and the cops, and you can find someone who wasn't a total douchebag to you and your friends in high school.
( He doesn't know why, but imagining Eddie parting ways to run off with someone else unearths the same bitter sort of sadness he'd felt when he'd seen Nancy and Jonathan together that first time and realized what it meant for them, and what it meant for him and Nancy. Why should he feel that way now? He's just trying to let the poor guy down gently while keeping him bolstered enough to keep fighting.
Steve's fingers tighten their grip around Eddie's again, but he doesn't seem to notice. )
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But what happens if they do miraculously survive? He will still have to overcome this crush that only seems to worsen the longer Steve holds his hand. )
You weren't -- you weren't a total douchebag. ( Eddie feels Steve's fingers tighten around his, and his eyes widen. At least Steve hasn't dropped his hand in disgust. That has to count for something, right? ) Besides, you're not that guy anymore, Steve.
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He isn't quite ready to open that door, but he's willing to knock.
They're facing down death, side-by-side in an alternate dimension. Eddie's already bared his soul. The least Steve can do is entertain the idea that he doesn't know his own as well as he'd thought.
He's not gay. He knows he's not gay. Dudes like him don't like other dudes, but he hasn't thought dudes like Eddie did, either. )
How did you know? ( He winces with a quick shake of his head. ) Not that I'm not a douche. That's not what I mean.
How did you know you're... you know.
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Besides, he's already admitted to Steve that he would have kissed him back in the clearing, and Steve hasn't shoved him away and told him to save himself. He thinks maybe he can trust Steve with this story. )
All of my friends were talking about the girls they had crushes on. When it was my turn, I couldn't think of anyone. I thought I was broken, y'know? But then I met this guy. I thought he was so cool. At first, I thought, you know, I wanted to be him, like how I wanted to be Mad Max. But then my friend Jeff talked about how he would get around girls, you know, the whole sweaty palms, heart skipping a beat, fucking butterflies, the whole nine yards. I started paying attention to how I felt around this guy. And, yeah, I guess realizing I kinda wanted to kiss him was a big tip-off.
( He sighs at the memory of his first real crush. When even was the last time he thought about that? ) Spoiler alert: didn't get to kiss him. That was my first lesson in keep that fucking shit to yourself if you don't wanna get killed.