Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve — or Ranger Steven Harrington, as it says on his uniform’s nametag — sits on the bed in his room, leaning back against the wall. He keeps throwing and catching a rubber ball, bouncing it off the wall, the floor, and back into his hand. The rhythmic routine is sort of meditative, always good at calming him down. He needs it now, after yet another day of ruthless training and zero actual action.

Pang, pong, catch. Pang, pong, catch.

Steve glances at the calendar hanging above his bed, as if anything on it might have changed since he last looked at it five minutes ago. Nope, the circled date on it is still twenty days away. Twenty days until the next candidate trials. Twenty days until he gets another chance to find a Drift¹ partner.

Pang, pong, catch. Pang, pong, catch.

It wasn’t Steve’s fault that he ended up alone despite successfully passing all the tests with flying colors. It just happened sometimes, depending on whether there was an odd or even number of programme graduates. There was actually a guy who seemed promising for a while, Cadet Dustin Henderson. Although he was several years younger, barely turned 19, Steve and him got along well enough to successfully drift through several simulations together. However, when it came to the real deal, Dustin’s nerves got the best of him. He kept getting distracted, unable to stay in the Drift, plunging into either Steve’s memories or his own, until Captain Hopper was forced to bounce him back for another three months of training and picking another partner. 

So it wasn’t Steve’s fault, and yet it wasn’t any less frustrating. While all his previous bunk mates were now getting real life experience piloting the Jaegers², he was stuck doing simulations and waiting, hoping there’d be someone from the next wave of graduates he’d be compatible with. 

Steve throws the ball harder, making it bounce from the wall right back into his hand rather than skip across the floor. 

Bang! Catch. Bang! Catch. Bang!..

A loud knock comes on his door. 

Steve catches the ball, stops bouncing it and sits very still. Whoever it is, if he pretends not to be here, maybe they’ll just go away. But the knock comes again, more insistent this time, a full fist instead of just knuckles, and Steve sighs.

“Come in! It’s open,” he calls out, sitting up and leaning forward so he has a clear view of the doorway. The metal door clangs open, and Steve tenses momentarily before relaxing when he sees the head poking inside. 

Robin’s probably the only person in the world whose presence he doesn’t mind even when he’s in a shitty mood. Junior Engineer Buckley was her official title, but no matter how much the PPDC³ higher ups kept trying to enforce formality among the personnel, most people completely disregarded the rules outside of official meetings. Besides, Steve and Robin have known each other for 8 years now, since a common summer job back in high school when they were slinging ice cream and occasionally having (sometimes way too many) illicit drinks after shifts. Somehow, they ended up spilling enough of their secrets to each other to declare themselves platonic soulmates. 

This was back when the world was still normal, or at least seemed that way to the majority of the world’s population. Back when reports of strange incidents involving disappearing fishing boats and sudden missing crews were chalked up to unexpected storms or unfortunate cliff crashes. 

They parted ways after that, Robin off to study mechanical engineering at MIT, while Steve, not knowing what else to do with his life, began working for his father’s company at the San Francisco head office and taking online business classes. Nevertheless, they kept in touch with daily calls and texts, and made sure to go on a road trip together every summer, and keep each other sane in a world that kept getting madder and madder. 

“Hey, dingus?” Robin says, entering the room, “Whatever’s going on, you mind not giving me a splitting headache by taking it out on our common wall?”

“Shit,” Steve mutters, shoving the rubber ball into his bedside drawer, because he doesn’t trust himself not to pick it up again without thinking if it’s still in sight. He folds his hands in his lap. “Sorry, Robs,” he smiles apologetically. “Thought you were still on shift.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to be.” Robin nods, closing the door behind her and crossing the room as she explains, “But our research on plasma cannon improvement basically hit a dead end. Can’t yet figure out how to make the shot more powerful without having the Jaeger essentially blast itself backwards with the recoil, you know? Not like we can add to the body weight, that thing’s already 2.5k tons on average, so maybe with some grav stabilizers—” Robin cuts herself off, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Ugh, sorry, rambling again.”

Steve shoots her an amused smile. 

“You know I don’t mind.”

“And this is why you’re my favorite,” Robin replies, grinning. She joins Steve on his bed, sitting cross-legged and facing him. “Anyway, Murray wants to run some more simulations, and the rest of us got nothing to do but wait, so he let us off early. So what’s up with you? Rough day?”

Steve shrugs, staring ahead at the wall. Robin watches him for a moment, then opens the drawer and takes out the rubber ball again. She bounces it against the wall once, catches and hands it over to Steve with a smile.

“It’s only annoying when you’re on the other side, actually.”

Steve laughs, and then they just sit for a while, taking turns bouncing the ball, until Steve finally feels like speaking. 

“I just hate feeling useless, Robin. You’re all doing important shit right now — you, Nance and Barb, Jon and Argyle… meanwhile, I’m stuck doing simulations for—” Steve glances at the calendar again, not that he needs to, “—twenty more days, minimum.”

“But you’re acing those, right? How many is it now, 160 kills, out of 190 missions?”

“162 out of 193,” Steve smiles proudly. 

“So imagine how good you’re gonna be when you finally pilot the real thing!” Robin waves her hands around excitedly. “These goddamned Majū⁴ are gonna wish they never crossed through when they face Ranger Steve fucking Harrington,” she says his name in a dramatic announcer voice.

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t help grinning.

“Why couldn’t you be a pilot too, Robs? I’d never be in this situation if you went into the cadet program instead of tinkering with the Jaeger parts. We are so totally compatible!”

“Uhm.” Robin bites her lip. “Yeah, actually… No.”

“What?” Steve leans closer to her, frowning. 

“I can’t drift, Steve.” She sighs.

“How do you know?”

“We have the Drift simulation equipment at the lab, remember?”

“Oh. So… You tried?” Steve asks.

Robin nods. 

“It wasn’t exactly sanctioned, but yeah. I was curious, so.”

“You never told me.”

“Cause it was a disaster!” Robin exclaims. “I didn’t even last a minute. Got stuck in that memory where I’m asking Vickie out. You know, when she stared at me like I’d grown a second head and then replied with ‘Sorry, but I have a boyfriend actually’? Ugh,” she groans.

“Ouch. Yeah.” Steve winces. 

“So I didn’t tell you because it was fucking embarrassing. Alexei had to pull me out in the end. And then I had a headache that lasted for days. Felt like my brain got fried a little, or something.”

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?” Steve lays a hand on her shoulder. “You’re fucking brilliant, Robs. You know the ability to drift means nothing. To this day they haven’t figured out what determines it, but it sure as hell isn’t intelligence. I mean, look at Billy and Tommy.” He rolls his eyes.

That makes Robin chuckle.

“Don’t mind me, I was just being bitter for getting left out without a partner for so long. Besides,” he shrugs, his eyes softening, “I’m kinda glad you’re gonna be staying here, actually. Out of danger, you know.” 

“Awww, don’t go all sappy on me now, Ranger Harrington,” Robin teases, but her smile is soft. Grateful. “And I’ll have you know, my job is plenty dangerous! I’m actually at high risk of carpal tunnel syndrome, osteoarthritis and eyesight impairment!” 

They both laugh, and then there’s a short comfortable silence between them. 

It doesn’t last long though, because suddenly there’s noise coming from the wall; not the one Steve shares with Robin, but the one behind his head.

“I thought you didn’t have a neighbor on that side?” Robin asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is that music?”

“That’s music ?” Steve gapes at her. “Sounds more like someone getting cut into pieces with a chainsaw, with two Jaegers going at it in the background.” 

Robin snorts, rolling her eyes. “Forgot you have zero taste, Mr. Top 40 Pop Hits.” She hops onto her feet. “Anyways. I’m beat, I think I’ll head to bed.”

“Good for you, I guess. How am I supposed to sleep to that?” Steve points to the wall.

Robin shrugs, backing towards the door.

“Go introduce yourself to your new neighbor. Ask them to turn it down.” She opens the door and turns around once more. “Do not bounce that thing against my wall,” she points at the rubber ball, and Steve immediately puts it away in the drawer and shows her empty hands with a smile.

🤖🤖🤖

Two hours after Robin’s left, the noise from the other room still hasn’t stopped.

Steve lies staring at the ceiling for at least half an hour, occasionally glancing at the clock, willing the person behind the wall to do the same and come to their senses. 

So far, they have not.

With a heavy sigh, Steve pulls on his boots and heads out to bang on the door of the room that houses this annoying disruptor of nighttime peace. When there’s no answer, and the noise — music? really, Robin? — remains at the same volume, he bangs louder, the sound echoing across the corridor. 

Just when Steve’s about to start using his boot to kick it, the door gives out the familiar grating sound of being opened, and the cacophony behind it gets several times louder, momentarily deafening him. And then Steve freezes, staring at the person who is, apparently, his new neighbor. 

In the back of his mind, Steve realizes he’s being rude, but he can’t help it. The guy’s about Steve’s age, maybe a couple years older. And really, really damn attractive - which is currently irrelevant, but Steve has eyes, okay? Shoulder length dark curly hair, huge brown eyes, a lit cigarette hanging between a set of pink, soft looking lips. Not to mention that he’s shirtless, a well toned body covered in various tattoos and… are those burn scars?

“Yes?” comes a voice, snapping Steve out of his stupor, and he jerks his eyes back up to the guy’s face, feeling his cheeks warm up. 

His neighbor leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes studying Steve. Not in a checking him out kind of way, rather looking at him like he’s an interesting exhibit at a museum. It makes Steve uneasy.

“Uhm.” Steve tries to collect his thoughts, remembering why he came around in the first place. He raises his voice to be heard above the noise. “Hi. I’m next door to you.” He gestures vaguely to the right, where his room is. “Could you, maybe, keep it down with this whole racket?” He locates the source of the disturbance behind the guy’s back, a portable speaker, and points to it.

“Racket?” The guy lifts one eyebrow, his expression morphing into mild annoyance, and he pulls the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke; Steve does his best not to stare again. “That’s Iron Maiden, dude. A classic. Have some respect.” 

“I don’t care what it is,” Steve replies, annoyance seeping into his own voice. “It’s almost midnight. Some of us have to get up at 6, you know.”

“I’m aware.” His neighbor, still very hot yet increasingly irritating with each passing second that his speaker keeps blaring, takes another drag from his cigarette. “ Some of us includes me.”

Just as anger really starts to prickle at Steve’s skin — who does this guy think he is?! — one corner of the man’s lips lifts, and he turns around, heading towards the speaker. There’s another tattoo covering the whole expanse of his back: clearly a David and Goliath⁵ inspired theme, except it's a Jaeger standing over a dead Majū body, holding up its ripped off head. Once again, Steve can’t help but stare.  

The stranger lowers the volume to something that probably will no longer be audible through the wall. Steve lets out a relieved sigh. 

“Thanks,” he says, aiming for a polite rather than a bitchy tone. He feels his body relax slightly as the onslaught of screams and heavy drums against his ears eases off. 

“My bad, dude,” the man replies, putting his cigarette out in an ashtray and turning to face Steve again. “Didn’t realize the walls were so thin around here. Where I was stationed before, you could set off a bomb in your room and your neighbors would be none the wiser.” He spreads his arms with a shrug. 

“You’re from another base? Where?” Steve perks up. 

His neighbor hesitates before replying. Something dark crosses his features. "Hong Kong.”

Steve’s eyes widen. 

Hong Kong, Tokyo, Vladivostok. The places right at the forefront of humanity’s literal hellish nightmare. Closest to the Gate⁶, having to deal with the Majū coming their way on a nearly daily basis. Compared to those, the LA base was practically an apotheosis of peace and quiet. 

A transfer from there? 

It was common for more experienced pilots from LA to be transferred to that side of the ocean, but not the other way around. After all, it’s the Western side of the Rim that ended up dealing with about three quarters of the Majū encounters. Steve’s seen plenty of footage on the news. It was brutal over there. Casualties almost every week.  

Steve throws another glance at the man’s scars, the guarded expression on his face, and decides not to pry any further. Instead, he holds out his hand.

“Well then. Welcome to LA, Ranger…?” He trails off with a questioning tone. 

The guy steps forward and squeezes his hand in a firm grip. 

“Edward Munson.” He shakes Steve’s hand and glances down at the nametag, pausing, then recognition dawning on his face as he lets go of Steve’s hand and meets his eyes again. “Harrington? As in, the HTC⁷?”   

Steve sighs. This is why he hates introducing himself to new people. The same question, every goddamn time.  

“We share a name,” he replies, keeping his voice indifferent. “And some DNA, I guess. I don’t really have anything to do with my father’s business… anymore.”

Edward Munson clicks his tongue. 

“Daddy issues. Gotcha. Ran away from the golden castle to be a hero, Harrington?” He smirks. 

Steve frowns, frustration coming back now. What is this guy’s problem?! 

“What’s your score, Ranger?” Munson asks. Steve names his simulator kill score, which makes Edward roll his eyes. “Your real score, dude. Who even cares about simulations?”

“I’ve… I’ve only been on simulated missions so far,” Steve clarifies. “Still waiting to get matched with a co-pilot.” He challenges the man with a mild glare. Go on then, he thinks, rub it on. 

But Edward only chuckles. Which, somehow, is worse.

“Ah. A young Padawan, then.” 

“A… what now?” 

Steve’s confused reply makes Munson laugh. He has a nice laugh. It also annoys the fuck out of Steve right now. 

“Man, you really don’t know any of the classics, do you?” He pats Steve’s shoulder twice, then reaches for the door, that irritating smirk still on his lips. His voice suddenly is pitched higher, sounding all goofy, as he says, “You goodnight I wish. Try to keep my music down, I will. Hmmmm.” 

Steve glimpses a flash of a wide grin before the door slams shut in front of him. He stares at it for a moment, completely baffled by the rollercoaster that this exchange was, unsure if the guy was genuinely joking or somehow mocking him.  

Doesn’t matter now. He’s too tired to figure out this bizarre Edward Munson puzzle. 

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Steve goes back to his room, blissfully quiet now. He climbs into bed and falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

Chapter Text

Eddie jumps awake to what turns out to be nothing more than the sound of the morning alarm beeping on his wristband. The clock on his wallscreen reads 6 am, which means the night has passed peacefully. He doesn’t remember the last time it was like that in Hong Kong. No Majū alarms blaring in the middle of the night, no voice announcing which pilots and other personnel are called to their stations immediately. 

Is that what it’s like, life on a base that’s over 6 thousand miles from the Gate? Makes sense. The fastest Majū ever detected was a category 4 Kraken, and even at its impressive 500 mph it gives any base on the Eastern side of the rim a pretty decent head start from the moment it’s detected at the Gate, so no need for sudden wake-up calls. What a paradise. 

The morning announcements he listens to as he dresses don’t bring any alarming news either. Two category 3 Majū headed for Tokyo were promptly dealt with. Another bunch of category 1 Demobats went through but most were taken by the automated tourettes around the edge of the Gate; the few survivors, emerged from the water and headed for Hawaii, were shot down by jet fighters. 

There was a time, several years before the PPDC, before the existence of the Gate became public knowledge, when category 1 Majū were wreaking havoc all over Earth, since nobody knew what they were and where they were coming from. The military were trying to take care of them in the big cities, but otherwise it ended up in the hands of the locals. People took up arms and defended their homes; at Eddie’s own trailer park, where he used to live with his uncle, they quickly figured out that loud sound worked great for attracting the demonic creatures, so they regularly played loud music over speakers inside one of the abandoned trailers, using it as bait to then ambush them with shotguns and Molotov cocktails. 

Those were wild times. Total chaos. 

On the plus side, Majū categorization was not a thing back then. Category 1 were the only ones who could get through the Gate, with the size it was initially. But then of course the UN (the only thing worse than a country’s government, and agglomeration of all the world’s evils, in Eddie’s opinion) decided it would be a fantastic idea to nuke the Gate, take care of it once and for all. 

Spoiler alert: the nuke did not destroy the Gate. It only made it bigger. So wide that the terrifying larger creatures, previously only seen through the imagery of a probe sent through, were now emerging from it, heading for shore cities all around the Pacific and destroying entire neighborhoods, killing tens of thousands and injuring even more, before military tanks and jet fighters finally took them down. Hundreds of thousands of refugees running from the shore cities caused a worldwide humanitarian crisis. The UN was disbanded for its incompetence (rest in fucking piss), and from its ashes emerged the Pan Pacific Defense Alliance, and the Jaeger program, aimed at providing humanity with adequately sized weapons against the bigger Majū. 

Eddie joined the program four years ago, at 23 years old. In a way, the Gate literally opened a door for him to escape the small town mundanity and find some meaning to life. He was never destined for greatness at school; he didn’t even graduate; he used to dream of a music career, but who even cared about music when humanity was at war with a hellish dimension. Eddie didn’t have any grand dreams of being the humanity’s savior, either, never thought of himself as a hero, but he heard of PPDC scouting and they were offering good money, more than he and his uncle combined could ever hope to earn; and hey, what do you know, his brain was perfect for the Drift. He even made his first kill in the first test simulation. Years of fighting games on his old deadbeat Xbox definitely paid off. 

Four years… Feels like an eternity now. 

Eddie heads for the cafeteria for breakfast and is pleasantly annoyed to find they even get bacon with their eggs over here. Annoyed, because of course the fucking privileged Eastern rim would also have better food. Pleasantly, because he’s selfish that way; fuck it, he’s allowed to enjoy the first bacon he’s seen in years. 

Holding his tray, he looks around the room. The closest table to him with a free chair seats a bunch of young people, all talking animatedly about something and laughing; must be the cadets. Eddie heads directly for their table. He was transferred here for cadet training, after all, so might as well get to know these guys, find out how their training is going. He’s officially fully taking over from Ranger Clarke when the next bunch of cadets starts next month, but he’d rather see in advance what he’s getting himself into. 

The kids all fall quiet and look up at Eddie when he places his tray on the table and leans forward with a wide smile.

“May I join you? Gentlemen?” He turns his head to the only two girls present. “Ladies?” 

“Uhm. Actually…” A curly haired boy starts speaking, but then his eyes fall to Eddie’s nametag, and his eyes widen. “Munson? You’re Edward Munson?”

“That’d be moi. ” He presses a palm to his chest and gives a slight bow, simultaneously glancing at the boy’s nametag. 

“Holy shit!” Cadet Dustin Henderson almost jumps out of his seat. “You’re like… a legend! What was it, like three Cat-fives? And seven Cat-fours?”

“Eight,” Eddie smiles, sitting down, taking the boy’s gushing as obvious permission. He immediately shoves a slice of bacon into his mouth and nearly groans. Oh yeah. Heaven. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’m Dustin… I mean...” The young cadet sits up straighter and holds out his hand. “I mean, Cadet Henderson, sir.”

Eddie winces for the second time this morning. 

“Ugh. Cool it with the sirs, kid. Makes me feel like a forty-year-old man. Eddie, please.” He shakes the boy’s hand briefly. “Nice to meet you, Dustin.”

“Okay… Eddie,” Dustin grins wide, his cheeks a little flushed. “What are you doing here? Are you stationed here now? I mean, I heard about…” Eddie gives him a stern look, and Dustin backtracks immediately. “Shit. Obviously, you don’t want to talk about that. I’m so sorry.”

“Talk about what?” 

A boy next to Dustin, Cadet Michael Wheeler, perks up. Dustin elbows him and hisses, “I’ll tell you later, just shut up.”

“I’m here to replace Ranger Clarke, who’s apparently planning to retire,” Eddie says to change the topic. “Gonna get started on the batch of Younglings that come after you guys, probably.” He points his fork at the kids. 

“Ha! You’re a Star Wars fan too? Man, you’re so cool.” Dustin grins, and Eddie smiles back at him, deciding he kind of likes this kid already. 

One of the girls, with bright red hair (Cadet Maxine Mayfield, her nametag says), nudges a black girl with pigtails next to her (Cadet Erica Sinclair) and fake-whispers, “Looks like Steve’s gotten knocked off Dustin’s worship pedestal.”

“Can it, Maxine,” Dustin snaps at her. 

“Uh-oh. Shouldn’t have done that,” a boy on the other side of Dustin, Cadet Lucas Sinclair, comments under his breath. Two Sinclairs? Siblings, most likely.

“Call me that again, and you’ll lose an eye to my fork, dude,” the red-haired girl speaks, glaring at Dustin.

Eddie doesn’t really get what that was about, but his confusion about who the hell Steve is gets resolved pretty quickly, in the form of the guy who banged on his door last night appearing at the head of the table. Ranger Steven Harrington, resident Padawan with such an impressive simulator kill score. Eddie scoffs again at the memory of their first conversation. LA was truly a whole other universe if people cared about simulator scores over here. He personally knew pilots in Hong Kong with 100 kill streaks over simulations. Didn’t save them when facing the harsh reality of a battle with flesh and blood Category fives.

He thinks of Chrissy, and his smile fades. He swallows a lump in his throat and looks up at Steven - Steve, apparently the dude doesn’t like his dad-given name either. Well, that’s one thing they have in common. (Thinking back, maybe that’s what the girl’s confrontation with Dustin was about, too. Maybe they could start a club.) 

“Hey, uh…” Steve looks directly at him. “You’re kind of in my usual seat, man.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow and turns in his chair, peers around the back of it, pointedly staring at its surface before looking back up.  

“Huh. Weird. I don’t see your name on this… man.” He narrows his eyes with a smirk. 

“Yeah, but…” Steve looks to Dustin. “Weren’t you supposed to keep a seat saved for me?”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t spend so long doing your hair every morning and being late to breakfast!”

“That was a low blow, kid,” Steve shakes his head, his lips in a thin line. “I’m never giving you any hair tips again.”

“Probably for the best,” Eddie butts in. “I was gonna say, why do you have so much product in?” He reaches and pats Dustin’s hair, which feels like it’s glued together on top of his head. “You should let those curls fly, baby.”

“Yeah, but then it looks like a crow’s nest,” Dustin frowns. 

“I used to have hair your length, Dustin. I’ll walk you through it,” Eddie replies, winking. Dustin beams at him. 

When Eddie turns to look at Steve again, the guy is glaring daggers at him. The little demon inside Eddie, turns out, kind of enjoys pissing Steve off, although he’s not sure why. Might be just that he called the metal masterpiece that is Iron Maiden’s music a fucking racket. But more likely, it’s the whole preppy rich boy vibe, the combination of inexperience and attitude. 

Eddie’s seen people like that before. Kids who’ve been handed everything on a silver platter their whole life, who decided to join the Corps and become heroes, only to meet their end at the bottom of the fucking ocean, or inside a metal grave that a high category Majū can easily turn your Jaeger into if you’re treating this like some kind of rebel adventure. 

“Why do you sit with the Cadets anyway?” Eddie asks, chewing on his eggs. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the big boys’ table?”

Steve’s practically fuming, but before he can say anything, one of the boys towards the end of the table, Cadet William Byers, speaks for the first time since Eddie sat down.  

“You can take my seat, Steve,” he says quietly, “I’m done with my food anyway.” 

“Thanks, Will. You’re my favorite.” Steve sets his tray down and ruffles the boy’s hair as he leaves with a shy smile. 

“Hey, I thought I was your favorite!” Dustin says.

“Uh-huh, that was until this morning’s betrayal of yours,” Steve replies, taking a sip of coffee.

“Nevermind my previous question,” Eddie chuckles into his own mug. “I totally get now why you sit here.”

Steve sets his cup down and fixes his eyes on Eddie again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing.” Eddie smiles and winks at him, which seems to annoy the guy even more. Excellent. 

Steve looks like he’s about to say something else, but Eddie’s not particularly interested in hearing it. He’s done with his food anyway, so he stands up and grabs his tray. 

“It’s been a pleasure, my dear Younglings. Have a productive day at training.” Eddie glances at Steve, who immediately avoids his gaze and pretends to be entirely focused on a piece of bacon on his fork. Eddie turns to leave with a smug smirk.

“May the Force be with you!” Dustin calls after him, and Eddie jerks his head back around to grin at the boy.

“And also with you,” he replies with a little nod and walks away, chuckling at the bits of conversation he can still hear before he’s out of range.

“Oh man, you love Star Wars, you’re sooooo cool,” one of the girls, Erica, parodies Dustin’s voice. “A suck-up and a nerd, I can’t believe I’m actually compatible with you.”

“That’s because you’re also a nerd, not my fault you’re in the closet about it!” 

🤖🤖🤖

Eddie doesn’t have much time to do anything before the morning Ranger briefing that his wristband indicates should start at 7, so he decides to just wander around the base for a bit. The layout looks pretty similar to the Hong Kong one, except the hallways are less crowded. Makes sense, with fewer people being stationed here. The living quarters are also smaller, and there is only one Jaeger hangar instead of three, a total of ten docks. 

He also notices that an underground floor on the base layout is marked Restricted area: designated personnel only. Weird.  

“All right then. Keep your secrets,” Eddie murmurs to himself, chuckling at his own joke. 

He glances at the time again and heads straight to the briefing room, arriving with two minutes to spare. About a dozen people are already in the room. His gaze falls on Steve, who’s chatting to a couple of girl Rangers, and when their eyes meet, Eddie puts on his most pleasant and friendly smile, just to fuck with him. It seems to confuse the guy so much he smiles back awkwardly, and Eddie turns away, cursing the sudden wayward thought in his head about Steve’s smile being cute. 

The chatter in the room falls quiet the moment Captain Hopper enters and starts the briefing. The usual stuff: a repeat of the morning’s situation around the Rift, assignments for the day, addressing several Rangers’ questions. 

No lineup, no salutes. Captain Hopper seems to behave on equal terms with the Rangers under his command; such familiarity could potentially be a disaster in the wrong hands, but with the way Hopper commands the room, it’s clear this is not the case. Everyone clearly respects him. It’s no surprise: he was one of the first Jaeger pilots ever trained, spent five years in Vladivostok as a Ranger, ranked up an impressive kill count before being promoted to head of the LA base. 

Interesting, Eddie thinks, that the Captain doesn’t bother with the pretentious pseudo-military theatrics, given his own background. All first Rangers were military, before the program was opened to civilians several years later. 

Captain Hopper personally welcomed Eddie when he arrived at the base yesterday. Eddie liked him right away.  

“...Finally, Wheeler and Holland, please stop by engineering, they want feedback on fixing up that sword balance issue you’ve been complaining about,” Hopper looks at the two girls Steve’s been talking to, and they both nod, giving each other quiet high-fives behind their backs. “All right, have a great day. Rangers. Harrington, Munson, you two please stay.”

Eddie’s eyes immediately shoot towards Steve, who seems equally confused at the Captain’s request. Eddie watches the rest of the Rangers trickle out of the room, feeling a cold chill run down his spine. This is not good. 

They both approach Hopper, who gives them a small smile.

“So. To the point.” He claps his hands once and points at them. “I’d like you boys to enter the Drift together and determine your mutual compatibility.” 

“What?” They ask in unison. 

Eddie’s mind is reeling. 

“With all due respect, Captain… I was transferred here to train the Cadets. You know that I…” He trails off.

Hopper nods.

“I know, but I’d still like you to give it a try. Harrington is a fully trained Ranger, he just needs a partner. Most of our Rangers are barely a year out of training. You have five years of experience, Munson. You’re one of our best here. We could really use you. I know we’re not in a hot zone, but we’ve had our fair share of Cat-fours, and we only have two teams that are experienced enough to handle that.” 

“What about the Cadet training?”

“If this doesn’t work out,” Hopper assures him, “that position is still open for you. But I’ll be honest with you: these days, an AI can do most of the basic training work. What it can’t do is be a reliable pilot. All of that is still experimental.”

Frowning, Eddie glances at Steve, who, to his surprise, is looking back at him with something like… excitement? But his face falls when he sees Eddie’s expression. He turns to Hopper, and sounds almost sad when he speaks.

“I think it’s a waste of time, Cap, but if that’s an order, yeah, sure.” He shrugs. 

“Fix that attitude, Harrington,” Hopper replies. “Didn’t you spend the past two months whining about lack of action?” He gathers his papers and heads for the door. “Next time I see you two, you better be in the simulator room. And don’t give up on the first try. Report your score to me at the end of the week.”

They both watch him leave, humming something to himself; the moment he’s out the door, Steve turns to Eddie. 

“Okay, seriously, man. What’s your problem with me?” 

“My problem?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, and he can’t help a frustrated laugh escaping his lips. “Oh boy, where do I even start? The fact that I was transferred here to train Cadets, not babysit some newbie?”

“I’m not a fucking newbie!” Steve raises his voice, taking a step closer to Eddie. His fists are curled at his sides. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been training for this!”

“That doesn’t mean shit out there!” Eddie shouts angrily, also stepping forward. “And if I’m in a Jaeger, I need someone with actual experience out there with me! Someone I can fucking trust not to freak out or fuck up! It’s not a fucking adventure, Stevie boy, not a way to stick it to your daddy and show him you’re special, it’s fucking life or death out there!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Steve practically screams. “You don’t know me! I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’ve just decided to make some assumptions about me and be a total dick! You know what, yeah, I’ve been dying to match with someone and go out there, but at this point I’d rather kill myself than be inside your head!”

“Well, that’s up to you, then. Do us both a favor, I ain’t stopping you.”

“Fuck you, Munson! Why are you here anyway? Did your partner get sick of drifting with your asshole brain?!”

Eddie sees white. He doesn’t even register when his body automatically gets in a battle stance, when his fist swings forward; he only thinks of how satisfying it will be, that crunching sound this guy’s nose will make as it breaks.

His fist doesn’t connect with Steve’s face. 

Steve steps backwards and blocks his blow, pushes his arm away with force, then swings his own fist. Eddie ducks, launches himself at the guy’s midsection, but Steve reacts immediately, twisting around, grabbing Eddie and pushing him down to the floor. He hisses when his fist connects with the room’s carpet; Eddie’s rolled away from his next blow, then grabs Steve’s leg, trying to get him off balance and at the same time using it as leverage to get back up on his feet. 

Steve stumbles, but doesn’t fall, and they face each other again, fists swinging on both sides, blocking each other’s hits with lightning speed. 

Eventually, it’s Eddie who makes a mistake. He blames his blinding rage at Steve’s words. That’s the first thing they teach you in martial training: never give in to your anger. Use it as a driving force, if you must, but don’t let it control you. But he’s so intent on hurting Steve, making him bleed, that he doesn’t notice Steve shift his weight slightly to one leg and the other flying in an arch towards his side. 

Pain explodes in his right hip, and he feels his own leg give out; still, his reflexes don’t abandon him. He grabs onto Steve’s leg as he goes down, and they both collapse and roll away from each other, panting heavily. 

It’s then that they hear the sound of slow clapping in the silence that has fallen, and both raise their heads to see Captain Hopper lean against the doorframe, watching them with an amused smirk. 

“Waste of time, you say, Harrington?” Hopper asks, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen such a perfectly matched fight in a while. If your minds in the Drift are as in sync as your reflexes out here, you two might just be perfectly compatible.” 

Eddie looks over at Steve, who’s staring back at him with the same wide-eyed expression, and he doesn’t need to be inside Steve’s head to know he’s thinking the exact same thing.

To Eddie’s horror, Hopper’s probably right. 

Chapter Text

They spend the entire 5-minute walk and elevator ride to the simulation room without a word. Munson’s not even looking at him, and now that his anger has subsided, Steve realizes the guy has every reason to. 

He doesn’t know what happened to Edward’s partner; unlike Dustin and some others, he doesn’t obsessively follow the news from other bases. If he’s honest about it, they terrify him. He usually puts on his headphones after the LA-relevant part of morning announcements and tunes out the rest of the details. And he sure as hell doesn’t have freaking posters of various famous Jaegers and pilots up on his room walls.  

He’s very aware there are two ways a Jaeger pilot ends up flying solo. One of them is retirement, and judging by Munson’s reaction to Steve’s words, this is not what happened here. 

Steve realizes they can’t go into a simulation together like this. And no matter how much of an ass the other Ranger’s been… this one’s on Steve. 

He waits until they enter one of the available sim cockpits and reaches for Edward’s shoulder, making him stop fiddling with the controls and turn to face Steve. 

“Hey, man… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Way over the line,” he says, watching the other man carefully. Not that he really thinks Munson would try punching him again when he’s apologizing, but it doesn’t hurt to be on guard. 

Edward looks back at him for a few seconds, his expression neutral, but his voice is a little shaky as he replies.

“Glad to see you recognize that at least, Harrington.”

He turns back to the control panel to run a system check. Steve lingers behind him. The training cockpits these days are all equipped with a voice-operated AI, just like the newer Jaeger models, but if Munson prefers the old-school methods, Steve’s not about to get in his way. He watches the guy’s fingers fly expertly over the sensor buttons; there are bulky, detailed rings on several of them, which are definitely non-regulation, but he’s not going to risk mentioning this. Besides, they look nice. 

Edward’s whole hands look nice, actually. Just the kind of hands he usually finds himself mesmerized by, broad and bony, with long, slender fingers. 

Steve doesn’t let that train of thought run any further, busying himself with cleaning the sim helmet with a wet wipe. Technically, everyone was supposed to do that after they were done using them, but he knew all too well how many tended to discard this rule. 

“Can I ask what happened?” He asks tentatively, not looking at the other Ranger. 

Edward doesn’t reply for a while, and Steve’s beginning to think he won’t reply at all.

“I fucked up. I was supposed to protect her, and I didn’t.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and Steve decides it’s not a good idea to pry. Not when they’ve managed to establish some sort of tentative peace between them. 

Systems check complete, an automated voice reports. All systems operational. Please select a training mode. 

Edward selects a dual pilot mode and a random Majū category. He ties his hair on the back of his head with a scrunchie from his wrist and puts one of the helmets on, then heads for the station on the left. Steve follows his lead, taking the right one. They both connect their helmets and wait. 

Engaging pilot-to-pilot connection. 

Steve feels a familiar tingle at the back of his neck. He glances over at Edward, but the man just stares ahead, his brows furrowed. 

Neural handshake initiated.

And there it is. A presence in the back of his mind, silent for now, but Steve knows it’s about to be followed by a tsunami of random imagery. He closes his eyes and eases into the flow of it. 

They float by, a cocktail mix of his own and Munson’s mind. Thoughts, memories, emotions. A view out of the HTC building in San Francisco. Melancholy. Fingers strumming on an electric guitar. Joy. Robin eating ice cream straight from the bucket. Fondness. A middle aged man, smoking on the porch of a trailer. Gratitude.

The key is never fixating on any of these. Like looking out of the window from a moving car, but keeping one’s focus on the glass instead of all the buildings and trees and billboards passing by behind it. 

A girl, pretty, strawberry blond hair, sunshine smile. Affection. Warmth. 

Fear. Despair. Pain, so sharp he doesn’t know how to breathe. A scream.

Warning: neural handshake unstable. 

Munson’s shouting something, but the sound is muffled, as if reaching him through a mass of water.

Steve’s mind trips up, stumbles, and he falls. For the first time in a long while since the start of his training, he fails to refocus, and plunges into a memory.  

“Chrissy!!!” A scream, he’s screaming, except not in his own voice. Fire, the smell of burnt plastic, broken glass everywhere - huge chunks of it, the five-inch-thick ballistic glass at the head of the Jaeger’s cockpit shattered. Various system failure alarms blaring. A girl’s voice, crying in pain, she’s trapped underneath a giant chunk of metal that looks like it might have been a motorbike once. He’s pulling, muscles in his arms feeling like they’re being ripped apart, but he can’t lift it, not even an inch. 

Something explodes, another wave of heat hits him, starting to burn through the supposedly fire-resistant suit, but he can barely feel his own pain. They are still connected, all he feels is hers, her agony, her terror, her desperation. 

From outside, just a hundred feet away, comes a bone-chilling, deafening growl.

A Tarrasque. Category five. Giant teeth, horns and claws as sharp as steel. Tail strong enough to collapse a building in a few whips. 

“Get out of here!” The girl yells. “Get the fuck out, Eddie!” 

“I’m not leaving you behind!” 

“There’s nothing you can do! GET OUT!!!”

Tears clouding his vision, he stumbles back to his station. The Tarrasque is charging, horns first, getting bigger and bigger in his field of vision; his hand reaches for the emergency escape pod button…

And suddenly it’s all over. He’s Steve again⁸, the cockpit looks whole, there is no fire or screams; he’s covered in sweat, tears streaming down his face, and Edward is in front of him, holding the helmet he’s ripped off Steve’s head. 

No, not Edward. That’s not the right name, Steve’s exhausted mind supplies from the jumbled mess of random Drift memories.

Steve’s knees give out, and he sinks to the floor. He can’t stop shaking, even his teeth clatter.

“F-fuck…” He mutters, wrapping his arms around himself. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen, I never let this happen…” 

“Don’t,” Edward — Eddie — cuts him off. He sounds tired, defeated. He crouches down next to Steve and squeezes his shoulder briefly. “Not your fault, man.” 

Eddie falls quiet, sitting down beside Steve and hugging his knees, giving him the time he needs to mourn. Because that’s what he does. That’s what happens if you plunge into your co-pilots memory in the Drift: unlike them, you haven’t had the time to process it. It’s like it just happened to you a second ago. It’s impossible to explain to anyone who hasn’t been through it themselves.

Chrissy… he never knew her, but feels like he did. He loved her. He lost her. He felt the weight of tons of metal crushing her bones. 

Steve covers his face with his hands and weeps through the agony of it. He doesn’t know how much time passes until the violent sobs grow quieter, turning into little hiccups, and then finally subside. He leans back against a wall and stares ahead, feeling completely drained.

Yeah. That was… an absolute disaster. But Steve was never one to give up so easily.

“We should try again,” he says, determined, wiping at his nose with a sleeve. “Okay, maybe not right away. I think I need a minute. But we should.”

He can feel Eddie’s gaze on him, and he finally turns his head, and almost cries again at the pain in those huge brown eyes. Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. 

“Fuck that. It’s useless, Steve. You think you’re the first one I’ve tried to match up with after…” He swallows. “After Chrissy? This happens to everyone. Even when I manage to stay in the Drift myself, that memory pulls in whoever I co-pilot with.” 

Eddie takes off his own helmet, scrambles to get the stray hair strands sticking to his sweaty face. He sighs as he stands and starts pacing the sim cockpit, waving his arms around as he rants. 

“This is exactly why I was transferred to training. I’m not supposed to be piloting anymore! I don’t know what the fuck Hopper was thinking. If I respected him any less I’d just report this bullshit up the command chain.”

Steve stands up, too. He still feels a bit uncoordinated, but at least his legs are cooperating. He walks over to Eddie, and without much thought, pulls him into a crushing hug. The guy stills, tense as a statue, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie,” Steve speaks, his voice shaking, fingers bunching up the fabric of Eddie’s jacket on his back. “About her. About what I said. I kinda wanna punch myself for that, so if you wanna, I’ll totally let you this time.” 

That pulls a sad snort out of Eddie. Slowly, Steve feels him raise his arms, until they tentatively rest on his own lower back.

“I don’t think punching you right now would be fair. Some other time, maybe.”

Steve squeezes him one last time and lets go, taking a step back. Eddie’s eyes dart over his face. Steve wipes at it with his sleeve again; he knows he probably looks like a mess. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a walk. And some fresh air, maybe,” Steve says. “Come on.”

Eddie follows him wordlessly. Thankfully, the room is empty when they exit the sim cockpit; but they do bump into Hopper in the corridor. 

“We almost did it, Captain. We’re gonna try again,” Steve hurries to reassure Hopper before Eddie can say a word. “Just need a break.”

“I bet. You boys look like shit,” the Captain comments, glancing between the two of them. “Take your break, then switch to individual training for today.”

“But…” Steve starts speaking, and Hopper raises a hand, interrupting. 

“Your assignment, Rangers, is to get through a Drift, but breaking your minds in the process won’t do anybody any favors. I’m proud of you for trying today,” he says, looking straight at Eddie and nodding once.  

They watch Hopper disappear around the corner, and then keep walking in silence. Steve leads Eddie to one of the less frequently used terraces; it’s usually empty, since it takes ten flights of stairs to get through to reach, but Steve doesn’t mind the walk, and it seems like neither does Eddie.  

Steve leans against the railing and inhales a deep breath of fresh salty air, feeling the cool wind on his face. The railing creaks a little when Eddie joins him, close enough for their elbows to brush. They both stare out into the sunlit ocean, watching the waves crash into the metal wall of the base below. 

It looks so peaceful like this, when it’s not the stage for yet another violent battle for humanity’s survival.  

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” Steve asks quietly, turning his head to look at Eddie. Eddie doesn’t look back, and he doesn’t seem… angry, exactly, but his lips are pressed into a thin line, and he starts tapping one of his ringed fingers against the metal railing. “You said you were supposed to protect her, but… piloting a Jaeger is a two-man job, Eddie. Safety is far from guaranteed. Everyone knows what they’re getting into the moment we step into the cockpit.” 

Eddie doesn’t reply, so Steve just keeps talking.

“And by the way, I’m not expecting you to protect me either. ‘Cos that’s what that was all about this morning, right? Your comment about ‘babysitting a newbie’? I know I’ve got no real experience, yet, but I can hold my own. You’re not responsible for my well-being, or whatever.” 

“So what, if things go south, you’re cool with me just… fucking off and leaving you behind?” Eddie asks, wincing. “Running, like a coward?”

“What else would I expect you to do? Pilot by yourself? Nobody can handle that neural load. You know what happens. Seizures, brain bleeds, all that.” Steve shrugs. “There’s nothing cowardly about doing the only rational thing you can, Eddie. And I know it fucking hurts.” Eddie opens his mouth, but Steve continues, “Yes, I know, because I’ve been inside your head now, so you don’t get to tell me I don’t because I’m some… Pada-something.”

Eddie snorts.

“I should really get you to watch Star Wars, man.”

“If that’s what it takes for you to give me another chance, sure.”

That finally, finally gets Eddie to smile at him. Not one of those strange, almost condescending smirks he gave Steve the previous few times they talked; it’s small, almost gentle, and actually reaches his eyes. The few loose strands of hair around his face keep dancing in the wind. In the sunlight, Steve notices he has a tiny dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose. Steve’s fingers itch to touch them.

Eddie sighs, suddenly looking uncomfortable, turning his head back towards the horizon again.

“About this morning… I guess we both said some shit we shouldn’t have.” He fiddles with his rings. 

Steve smiles. He didn’t expect Eddie to apologize; however the guy behaved, what Steve said to him was absolutely inexcusable.  

“I saw you with your dad for a bit”, Eddie continues. “Man, what an asshole, pardon my French.”

Steve chuckles humorlessly. “Was that the one where he poured me champagne to celebrate another multibillion order from PPDC, when they were still pulling bodies out of a destroyed building from that morning’s attack?” 

Eddie gapes at him. “Uh. No, but… yeah, let me reiterate: asshole. Anyways… I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have, like… assumed shit.” He sighs. “I’m kind of a bitter, sarcastic dickhead by default. Chrissy, she used to… She balanced me out, I guess. Ever the optimist, glass half full, seeing the best in people, all that. With her gone…” He trails off, shaking his head.  

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Steve asks quietly. “About her? Like… maybe that will help?”

Eddie lets out a bitter laugh.

“Twenty hours of mandatory therapy, Steve. Didn’t do squat.”

“Nah. Fuck that, this is not what I mean.” Steve nudges him, not sure where his sudden confidence came from. “Come over, after dinner. I’ve got a mostly full bottle of Jack in my room. Don’t tell anyone though, it didn’t exactly get here through the… proper channels.”

Eddie wolf-whistles. “Well, well, well, Harrington. You’re definitely full of surprises.”

Alcohol and weed weren’t technically banned from use at the base. PPDC wasn’t some traditional old-world military. There’s an unspoken understanding that Rangers need to be able to take the edge off, so as long as it’s all off duty, and limited to the private spaces, and doesn’t interfere with performance come morning. But everything was rationed these days, so contraband wasn’t uncommon.  

“Well, stop assuming you know me, then you wouldn’t have to deal with surprises,” Steve teases.

Eddie smirks. “Touché.” 

“So how about it?” 

Eddie looks at him, his eyes narrowed.

“What’s your plan here? Bribe me into co-piloting with free booze and watching my favorite movies?” 

“Maybe.” Steve grins. “Is it gonna work on you?”

Eddie lets out an amused chuckle, shaking his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re awfully pushy?” He seems to hesitate for another moment, but then rolls his eyes, his expression resigned. “Hope that Jack is the real thing. Haven’t tasted it in years.” 

Makes sense. Anything that made it to the other side of the Rim tended to be ridiculously expensive these days. Shipping insurance costs for cross-Pacific routes were sky high, not to mention the potential dangers to a ship’s crew. So most stuff was either brought in by planes, or routed around the other side of the globe. 

Steve pumps his fist in triumph, making Eddie chuckle.

“Come on then. Let’s get back,” he kicks at Eddie’s boot lightly and heads back towards the stairs, smiling to himself when he hears footsteps follow behind him. 

Steve doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but his gut insists that this is going to work out, if he just keeps convincing Eddie to try. 

He’s heard stories from some of his Ranger friends. They all told him the same thing: the first time you drift with the right person, even if your first attempt is completely botched, you just know. You know you’re meant to be paired up. 

Him and Dustin, it worked for a while, but no wonder they failed the final test. 

“It’s kind of like falling in love,” Nancy used to say. “Except… I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. It’s different for everyone. Some do end up in love, some go into it as couples in the first place. I’m definitely not in love with Barb, but I wouldn’t want anybody else inside my head. You’ll know it when you feel it.”

And he does, now. He doesn’t want anyone else. He wants Eddie.

Chapter Text

Following Steve back to the sim room, Eddie feels like this morning might have as well been a lifetime ago, with how much things have shifted between them. Time moves differently in the Drift. He’s not sure how long they’ve been connected in real time before Steve tumbled into that cursed memory of Eddie’s; probably mere minutes, but it was enough to feel like he’s known the other Ranger for… years. Since Steve was a young kid, scraping his knee by falling off a bike and running to his dad in tears, only to be scolded that boys weren’t supposed to cry. 

It’s always a bit of a religious experience, being in someone’s head, however briefly. It might just change every assumption you’ve made about a person. 

He wasn’t entirely wrong about Steve being a rich kid trying to prove something to his dad, but now he’s aware that’s not the whole story. That feeling, from the memory flash of Steve first putting on his Cadet uniform… It was pride, but it wasn’t the arrogant kind. It was a feeling of accomplishment, of belonging, doing the right thing. 

He tells himself it’s the shame of making all the wrong assumptions about Steve that makes him humor the guy into actually trying to complete Captain Hopper’s assignment. He could end this whole experiment with a simple anonymous report. But Eddie doesn’t want to. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of starting over. But also, in a way, he misses it like one would miss a limb. That feeling of mind-melding with another person. Of being known and understood by someone, utterly and completely. It is kind of addictive.  

🤖🤖🤖

They go their separate ways for the rest of the day. Eddie doesn’t see Steve at lunch, so they must have missed each other. He nails three out of three of his solo simulations before it’s time for dinner, and he finds Steve already sitting at the Cadets’ table he’d joined this morning, talking animatedly and laughing. Their eyes meet, and Eddie nods at him before finding another spot to sit. He sits down with some of the other Rangers, introduces himself, but then mostly just listens to their casual conversations, his mind exhausted after today. 

Eddie briefly entertains the thought of bailing on Steve, just lying down in his bed and listening to some music. But he changes his mind last minute, realizing that being alone right now would not be helpful. And he could totally use a drink. 

So he knocks on Steve’s door and is met with the other Ranger grinning as he opens, already holding a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand. 

“Hey. I don’t have glasses, so if you don’t mind the spit sharing?” He chuckles, handing the bottle to Eddie and stepping aside to let him enter.

Eddie accepts it and tags a swig. Tastes good. Definitely the real thing. Nothing like the rocket fuel labeled ‘whisky’ he tragically got used to over the years in Hong Kong. 

“We’ve shared a brain already, Harrington. It’d be weird if I was squeamish about your spit.”

Steve laughs, his cheeks tinted a little pink. He’s pretty, Eddie thinks, finally letting that thought brew for a bit in his mind instead of outright pushing it away. Terrible taste in music, though, judging by some pop station he puts on. 

“What the hell is that?” Eddie asks, wincing at the horrible autotune of a female’s vocals. 

“Gotcha, let’s find something else.” Steve switches the station, some instrumental guitar music starts playing. “Better?”

“A little,” Eddie grins, flopping down on Steve’s bed and leaning back against the wall.  

“You can just… log into your account, or whatever”, Steve gestures to the wallscreen. “Put on whatever you like. Sorry I don’t know any of that… angry stuff you listen to.”

“Angry?” Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, fair. Although next time you stumble into my memories, make sure to pick the 2025 Metallica concert. The way they played Nothing Else Matters, with an entire orchestra onstage… That ought to change your mind. Blow your mind, to be more accurate.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve smirks, joining Eddie on the bed and holding his arm out in a silent request for the drink in Eddie’s hands. 

Eddie shrugs. “Who knows, Steve, who knows. A few more sips of this nectar of the gods, and I might be sold on the idea.”

Steve smiles, looking genuinely happy, tapping his fingers on the bottle to the rhythm of the music. 

“So,” Eddie claps hands together, changing the topic. “What’s the hot gossip around here?” 

Steve lets out a laugh, passing the bottle back to Eddie. “Is that what you wanna talk about?”

“Duh. I just got here. Give me the juicy stuff.” 

“I don’t know.” Steve runs his hand through his hair. “Uh… currently there’s a bet going around on whether Jonathan and Argyle are together.”

“Co-pilots? One of them with crazy long hair?” Eddie clarifies, and Steve nods. “Might’ve met them at dinner. Huh. Yeah, that’s a fifty-fifty I’d say. What did you bet on?” 

Steve chuckles. “Anytime anybody asks them, they just laugh it off. I mean, I know co-pilots can have this… weird connection. But man, you should see these two. They are basically attached at the hip. They even moved into the same room.” 

“You’d be surprised how many people thought Chrissy and I were together.” 

“...You weren’t?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head. 

“Nah. It wasn’t like that.” He takes another drink, swallows, wipes at his lips and passes the bottle back to Steve. He feels the buzz already going, a pleasant tingle in his fingertips and toes. “In fact…” He turns to Steve, grinning. “Can you believe that I was her lesbian awakening?”

“What?!” Steve chokes on the whisky, spatters and coughs, his eyes wide. “What the fuck? How?” 

“Uh-huh. She kind of briefly stumbled into a memory of… well, me going down on a girl.” He can’t help the smug smirk as Steve’s cheeks flush at his words. “Two days later, she broke up with Jason - her boyfriend at the time, a real asshat, by the way, never thought he was worth a goddamn hair on her head. But Chrissy was her own person, who was I to say whom she dated, right? But then, get this, she barges into my room and starts ranting about how she finally gets why she was never into fucking him. You know how you can feel literally everything in a Drift memory, right?” He grins at the way Steve seems to blush even brighter. “Basically, she realized she was totally into that. A week later, she starts hooking up with a chick from medical, and she just glows. I’d never seen her happier.” Eddie pauses, the memory of Chrissy’s joyful smile striking him with full force. “Fuck. It’s weird to talk about her like that. Like she’s still… you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says quietly.  

Eddie nods, staring blankly at the wall ahead.

“She was so sweet. And so damn brave, and optimistic. Made me laugh all the time, made me feel a little less insane about all this shit. The best goddamn friend I ever had.” 

“She was your Robin,” Steve whispers, so quiet as if he didn’t mean for Eddie to hear. 

The name feels familiar, and Eddie frowns, trying to place it in a jumbled mess of memories of memories. 

“Oh. Short hair, blue eyes? Rambles a lot? You two are close, right?”

Steve nods, his expression soft and fond. “My platonic soulmate. She’s an engineer here. Lives next door to me, actually. Brilliant, funny. Oh, and an absolute lesbian disaster.” He laughs. “I bet she would have fallen for Chrissy in a heartbeat. She does have a weakness for pretty sunshine girls.” His face falls a little, and he looks at Eddie again. “Uhm. Sorry if that was weird…” 

“No, that’s cool,” Eddie smiles, a bittersweet feeling rising in his chest. He realizes he was never able to talk about Chrissy like that to anyone back at Hong Kong, after everything. Without dealing with the overwhelming pity in their eyes. “She seems cool. I think Chrissy would’ve liked her, too. I mean, after a while I become a pretty good judge of what her type was, with the whole…” He taps on his forehead. 

They fall silent for a while, taking turns at the half-finished bottle. 

“So how many of these kinds of memories am I to expect as we drift?” Steve suddenly asks, grinning cheekily. 

Eddie snorts.

“Are you asking me if I’m a slut, Harrington?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “That term is so 2010s, Jesus. Just wanna be prepared, in case I get slapped with an imagery of a mass orgy or something.”

Eddie laughs out loud, wheezing into his arm for a while before he can compose himself enough to speak again. 

“Ah, hell, fuck no, don’t worry about it. My sex life wasn’t that interesting. Heads up though, you might not see just girls in there. You think you can handle that?” 

“Oh.” Steve fiddles with the bottle in his hands. “I mean. Yeah, that’s cool.” He rubs at his face, a blush coloring his cheeks again. He’s kind of adorable when he blushes, which he seems to do quite a lot, considering he doesn’t seem like the shy, prudish type to Eddie. And Steve’s next words prove him right. “You don’t need to worry about awakening anything in me, is what I mean.” 

Now that’s interesting. Could be interpreted either way, really. Eddie smirks, but doesn’t pry any further. 

“So, Steve. Why are you here?” He asks, changing the topic. 

“Uh…” Steve furrows his eyebrows. “In my room?”

Eddie gives him a ‘duh’ look. 

“The Corps.” 

“Oh.” Steve leans back, eyes raised to the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Eddie says. “I don’t have all the pieces yet, but I’m bound to put them together eventually. I just know that it probably wasn’t for the money. And I have a feeling I was wrong about the whole, ‘rebel without a cause’ idea,” he air quotes.

“No, it’s fine.” Steve sighs. “Just gathering my thoughts. Um, so, I take it you saw I was working with my dad at HTC for a while.” 

Eddie nods.

“After high school, I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do with my life. Not like Robin, who went to college right away. I tried finding my own way for a while, but I was never really good at anything like that.” He shrugs. “And then, you know, the whole Majū shit really hit the fan when they nuked the Gate. I knew of the Jaeger program way before most people, because my dad’s company was on a shortlist to develop the kind of neural network needed to pilot them. We weren’t on the best of terms, but he’d offered to come work for him multiple times, so I thought, maybe I should, after all. Robin’s switched majors halfway through her second year, wanted to become a mechanical engineer, so… maybe I could be useful too.” Steve snorts, taking the bottle to take a large swig, winces. 

“I take it that wasn’t exactly your calling,” Eddie comments, careful to keep any teasing out of his voice. 

“Five fucking years pretty much wasted.” Steve groans. “Dad claimed he wanted me to take over the company eventually, but with the way it was going, I was basically a glorified secretary. Mostly just handling appointments, email, that kind of thing. And I wasn’t even complaining, ‘cos I was trying to study all that business and management stuff and… god, Eddie, it was so fucking boring. But I didn’t know what else to do. So I stayed… until March of ‘28.”

Eddie feels a pit opening up in his stomach, already knows where this is going.

“There was a Cat-five, a Behemoth. Tracking showed it was headed further south, initially, but like 20 miles off coast it changed direction for some reason…” 

Eddie nods, remembering the horror of seeing that on the news.

“Before the Jaegers caught up, it had devastated a whole block in San Francisco. Thousands dead…” 

“We could see it all from the HTC’s top floor. There was a fucking school, Eddie. They didn’t manage to evacuate everyone in time.” Steve falls silent, staring ahead, lost in the memories. Eddie waits, his heart already clenching at the idea of someday seeing those in the Drift. 

“I couldn’t focus,” Steve finally continues, his voice a little choked. “I couldn’t stop thinking about these kids… Like, I knew some of them, they lived in my building. Ethan and Aaron, used to play basketball with them sometimes. Jess, the sweetest kid, who kept bringing around homemade cookies because I fixed her bike once. Her older sister teased that she totally had a crush on me.” He makes a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sob, wiping at his eyes. “I messed up some of dad’s important appointments, I guess, and he just told me to… get my shit together. I mean, in hindsight, I kind of get it. He was doing important work. He wasn’t a great dad, but he did build one of the best tech companies from scratch, and they worked on stuff that was crucial for the Jaeger neural networks. But my role in all of this… it all just felt so fucking pointless.” He shrugs. “I quit the next day.” 

“And applied for the Cadets,” Eddie supplies. 

“Not right away,” Steve shakes his head. “I volunteered for a while, worked at several shelters for those who lost their homes that day. Then joined a company that was doing rubble removal in the area. Finally felt like I was actually doing something, you know?” He smiles a little. “Robs was the one who eventually suggested I try out for the Corps. She was already working here at the base. I’ve had access to the Drift tech at HTC, I knew I could do it, so I thought, yeah, why not. If it didn’t work out, at least I’d get to hang out with her some more. But I passed all the preliminary tests, and yeah. The more I trained, the more I thought about it… it felt right.” 

Silence falls between them, diluted only with the quiet sound of music. Eddie keeps turning Steve’s story over in his head, the weight of it slowly settling in his chest. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he’d ever met other people like Steve, whom he was perhaps a little too quick to judge, just based on the fact that they came from a nice, rich family.

He doesn’t think that part of him that loathed the more wealthy, better off part of the world’s population could ever go away. From his mom dying way too young from an illness that was entirely treatable if only she could afford regular check-ups, through his father going to prison for stealing from his employer because his legal pay was barely enough for one person and he had Eddie to raise, to the beat-up trailer of his uncle’s he ended up at - and he loved his uncle, was eternally grateful to him, but he wished he saw him for more than a few waking hours a day between Wayne’s two jobs to support them both.

But maybe he really shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. “People are like fruits, Eddie,” Chrissy used to say. “Sometimes you peel the skin, and you realize what’s on the inside looks completely different than on the outside.” 

Eddie looks at Steve, who still looks a little shaken from the emotional turmoil of memories, and a thought strikes him how in the end, they are all just bugs, waiting to be either squashed or torn into pieces by creatures who didn’t give a damn about their heritage or wealth. 

Eddie really, really would rather keep tearing these bastards apart. And Steve wasn’t the worst guy to be doing it with. If they can make it work. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but Eddie realizes he actually honestly hopes that they will. 

“You’re a good dude, Steve Harrington,” he admits, raising the almost empty bottle and twisting it in his hand, making the whisky swish around the bottom. He takes a small drink, leaving just enough for Steve to finish the bottle. “Look, I don’t know if this,” Eddie points between the two of them, “is gonna work out. Wait, wait,” he hurries to say, because Steve literally has the look of a kicked puppy on his face. “I just mean, you might be better off waiting and getting paired up with one of the freshly trained Cadets. My brain is properly fucked, man.”

“I like your brain just fine,” Steve counters, a strange stubbornness in his voice. 

Eddie snorts.

“Let’s get through a few more attempts, then see if you still wanna stand by that statement.”

Steve beams at him, before swallowing the rest of the whisky.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

The following morning, Steve stands in the middle of the cafeteria, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, Dustin’s already noticed him from the Cadets’ table and is waving at him enthusiastically. On the other, Steve’s already spotted Eddie, sitting at the table with some of Steve’s Ranger friends, looking a bit awkward as Nancy, Barb, Argyle and Jonathan, who’ve known each other for several years now, chat and laugh all around him. 

Not that Steve thinks Eddie actually needs his help socializing. But he feels impatient to check on Eddie after yesterday. Make sure his determination to give it another try with Steve hasn’t wavered after sobering up. So he waves back at Dustin and heads towards the Rangers’ table, promising himself to make it up to the kid over lunch or dinner. 

He knows he made the right decision when Eddie meets his eyes as Steve sets his tray on the table across from him, and his face brightens up. The rest of the gang, too, greet him with genuine smiles and loud cheers.

“Whoa, whoa, look who it is!” 

“My man Steve!” 

“I cannot believe the one and only Steve Harrington graced us with his benevolent presence this morning!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling. Eddie, too, looks like he’s trying not to laugh. 

“You done?” Steve asks. “Can we all get back to eating?”

“Just one question first, brochacho. And please do not break my heart here. Pineapples on pizza, yes or no?” Argyle asks. 

“Uhm.” Steve thinks about it for a moment. “I guess I’d have to try it, but fruits on pizza?”

“Technically, the tomato is a fruit,” Nancy comments at the same time as Argyle exclaims, “Noooo. You’ve never had pineapple pizza?!” 

“When was the last time you saw a friggin’ pineapple, dude?”

By the time the PPDC produced enough Jaegers to offer sufficient protection to humanity against the onslaught of the larger Majū, whole regions of the planet had already been devastated. Most of the Oceania in the west; and in the east, some of the poorer countries with territories mostly situated along the coast, like those on the Isthmus of Panama. 

The world markets were slowly adjusting, but some things were still hard to come by and very expensive. Like pineapples, about 70% of which used to be exported from Costa Rica. 

“I have my sources, Steve-o”, Argyle grins, and Steve rolls his eyes. Of course Argyle has sources. Same ones, probably, that should be thanked for the whisky he and Eddie had last night, among other things the guy regularly supplies his friends with. 

“So, that’s two yeses,” Jonathan sums up, “two noes,” he points to Nancy and Barb, “and two people who need to try pineapple pizza,” he concludes, glancing between Steve and Eddie, who look at each other and shrug. 

“Can your vote even count, if he only knows what it tastes like from Argyle’s brain?” Barb remarks. “I mean, Drift memories are biased by your own perception. Of course you’d love it if he does.” 

“My dudes!” Argyle slams his hands on the table; Steve chuckles as Eddie, sitting next to him, jumps a little. “It’s decided. Pizza party for my birthday, in two weeks! We’ll have both with and without pineapple, for fairness.”

“You should place an order with supply asap,” Nancy tells him. “They’re moving really slowly these days.”

“Yeah,” Barb says, “last month they were late on a tampons shipment. I’m not kidding when I say it was a literal bloodbath among all the unfortunate vagina-havers on this base.”

“Barb!” Nancy kicks her under the table.

“What?” 

“My ladies, you know you can always come to me if that happens again,” Argyle butts in. “Like I said, I have my own sources. And there is no shame in the physical needs of your bodies.”

“Ironic how there’s always plenty of condoms in stock, though,” Barb says.

“Well, yeah,” Jonathan snorts. “I imagine the PPDC aren’t particularly fond of their Rangers getting pregnant.”

“How’d you explain the abundance of lube, then?” Steve retorts, very pointedly not looking over at Eddie, because he just knows he’s going to blush. Not sure why. Might be just because Eddie’s not part of the circle of people he’s used to discussing things with, no filters whatsoever.

“No idea, but I bet nobody’s complaining,” Jonathan says, and him and Argyle smirk at each other. 

Done with their food, Steve’s friends get up from the table and leave Steve and Eddie alone, loudly discussing whether you can see a baby’s mind while drifting with a pregnant person as they walk away. Steve looks over at Eddie, who’s watching the four leave with an amused smile.

“That bet still going?” Eddie asks, shifting his gaze to Steve as he chews on a sausage.

“Which bet?”

“The one you told me about yesterday. Byers and Garcia.” 

Steve laughs. “Uh, yeah, I guess. What’s your verdict?”

“Not dating.” When Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise, he adds, “Definitely fucking, though.”

“Interesting.” Steve grins. “Wanna put your money where your mouth is?”

“Sure. 10 bucks on fuckbuddies.” Eddie chuckles in amusement, digging into his food. Steve decides to do the same thing, since breakfast time is almost over, and they are among the few people still left in the cafeteria.

“Not babysitting the Cadets today?” Eddie asks, chewing. 

Steve chuckles.

“They’re all grown adults, pretty sure they don’t need a babysitter.” 

“So why do you usually sit with them?”

“I just… sat with Dustin, at first. We were in training together, got almost paired up until he messed up the final test run and was bounced back. He was really bummed out about it, and so was I, kind of, I mean… the Rangers were all paired up, so I was always the odd one. So we kind of stuck together.” Steve shrugs. “Then I got to know some of the friends he made. They’re good kids. I mean, two of them are actually little brothers of Nancy’s and Jonathan’s, so the added bonus is I get to keep an eye on them for my friends, without them feeling like they’re not being trusted.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, and then his eyes widen in recognition. 

“Right. Wheeler and Byers. I thought it was just a coincidence. But yeah,” he shrugs. “Nothing surprising about that. Lots of kids want to follow in their big siblings’ footsteps.” 

“Plus, it seems like whatever we have in our brains, that makes us good at drifting, is genetic.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie nods, staring at his plate. “Honestly, though? If I had a sister or brother who wanted to join, I’d probably shoot them in the leg.”

Steve chokes on his coffee.

“You’re not serious?..”

Eddie looks up, a grave look in his eyes.

“I am, actually.” He finishes the last sip of his coffee and stands. “Come on. We’ve got, like, five minutes left, and I gotta pee.”

Walking behind Eddie out of the cafeteria, Steve keeps thinking about Eddie’s words. His mind can’t help drifting to Dustin, who became like a little brother to him over the past several months, and the rest of the kids. And how the list of people he worries about every time a Category 4 or higher approaches the coast just keeps growing.

At least maybe, with a bit of luck, soon he won’t have to sit at the base, worrying himself sick, powerless to do anything other than hope that they return in one piece. He’d be able to protect them, too.

🤖🤖🤖

“You ready?” Steve asks as they get to their stations in the simulator cockpit. He glances over at Eddie, who shrugs.

“As I’ll ever be. You?”

“Born ready,” Steve grins, pulling a small smile out of Eddie’s stoic face. “Operator, initiate neural handshake,” he commands. 

Engaging pilot-to-pilot connection, the voice reports.   

The flow of memories begins, and for a short while, their Drift is stable. 

Neural handshake at 50%.

Chrissy’s face. The scream. Heat, smoke filling his lungs. 

‘Eddie! Think of something else!’ Steve tries to communicate, even though he knows it’s useless. The subconscious of the mind doesn’t work like that. 

Warning: neural handshake unstable. 

Fuck. No, not again. 

A sudden idea strikes Steve as he struggles to keep his mind afloat. He’s never used this function himself, but some pilots liked to play music during simulations, and some even on real missions. Said it helped them focus. 

“Operator!” Steve shouts over the screaming, unnecessarily, because the AI can obviously hear him. “Play music! Any track by Metallica.” It’s the only name to come to mind, because Eddie was speaking of a concert last night.

Playing Enter Sandman by Metallica, the voice reports, and the cockpit fills with the sound of guitar riffs, soft at first, and then picking up, getting louder. Steve hopes that was the right choice.

In the Drift, Chrissy’s scream gets distorted, and then morphs into other loud sounds. A cheering crowd, deafening music from an onstage speaker just a few feet away. He still feels hot and sweaty, but the heat comes from the bodies all around him, everybody dressed in black, jumping up and down and headbanging. He fucking loves this song. He’s having the time of his life. 

Then, that fades away, too, and he starts seeing flashes of all kinds of memories, flowing from one to the next, and Steve smiles. 

Neural handshake complete. 

Steve opens his eyes and turns to his co-pilot, who’s staring at him, wide-eyed, mouth open in amazement. 

“Holy shit. How did you know this was gonna work?”

“I didn’t, it was just a hunch.” Steve shrugs, grinning at him. ‘Shall we fuck up some imaginary Majū?’ He thinks, testing the connection. 

‘Oh, hell yeah,’ Eddie’s mind replies as he grins back excitedly. ‘Can we keep the music on?’

‘Sure.’  The Drift is a weird fucking thing. Metal never was his thing, but the exhilaration coming from Eddie currently overpowers his own musical preferences, and he doesn’t try to fight it. “Operator, launch simulation, category four, random species.” 

Configuration accepted. Launching simulation . 

The screen lights up, along with the 3D projection of the simulated Jaeger’s surroundings.They are standing on the shore, looking out towards the ocean.  

Majū approaching. Category: four. Species: Demogriff. Distance: 20 miles.  

Steve narrows his eyes at the dot in the sky, gradually getting bigger.

‘A Demogriff?’ He feels Eddie’s slight amusement. ‘Damn, could have picked something more interesting.’

‘Who’s the arrogant one now? Those things are fucking fast.’ 

Steve turns to Eddie and finds him grinning.

‘Only in the air.’ Eddie looks towards the ocean on the screen.

‘So are we.’

‘I know. You trust me, right?’

‘Of course.’

‘Follow my lead.’ 

They let the Jaeger move forward, towards the water, gaining speed quickly. The water level rises around, until they are fully submerged, and then keep walking across the bottom of the ocean.

Distance: 2 miles.  

With a mental nudge from Eddie, they stop, the surface about 50 feet above them. 

‘And now we wait,’ Eddie says in his mind, moving the Jaeger into a battle stance. 

A few dozen seconds later, the giant body of the demonic beast breaks the surface. Like all the land or aerial Majū, it is indeed slower underwater, yet it’s still approaching rapidly. 

‘They’re smart, in a way,’ Eddie says. ‘Always try to go straight for the head, rip out the sensors. And that is something you can use.’

“Engage cryocannon,” he commands aloud.

Steve’s about to argue that it’s only going to freeze the water without reaching the Majū, but within a second, he knows what Eddie’s plan is, loud and clear. They turn sideways, placing the cryocannon located in the Jaeger’s right shoulderblade between the Demogriff and the head. 

‘Wait for it.’

The Demogriff is 20 feet away, flying right at the Jaeger’s head.

‘Waaaait for it.’

10 feet, its body filling most of the screen now.

‘Now.’

They fire; the beam shoots, slower than it would on the surface and leaving behind a tail of frozen water, hits the creature’s wing and encases it in an ice globe. The Majū’s body, propelled forward by inertia, hits the Jaeger’s head, and they feel the cockpit tilt to the side, before moving the head back upright. Then, unable to keep afloat with just one wing and its paws and pulled down by the weight of the ice, the Demogriff begins sinking, thrashing about, its body quickly reaching the ocean floor. 

Following Eddie’s guidance, they move the Jaeger several steps forward, and one giant metal foot lands on top of the Demogriff’s head, trampling it into the sand. The creature’s body keeps jerking for several more seconds, but those are nothing but leftover neural reflexes, and then it stills, the water around it slowly turning black with Majū blood.

Majū eliminated. Mission time: 5 minutes, 23 seconds. Congratulations, Rangers, the AI voice reports. 

The screen fades to black. Steve turns to Eddie, feeling the co-pilot’s elation merge with his own. 

“Holy shit, that’s gotta be record time,” Steve speaks aloud, unable to keep the excitement within his mind. “This was awesome! You’re so fucking badass, dude.” 

Eddie ducks his head, attempting for a bashful look, but Steve can feel how the thrill from his praise mixes with a bit of smugness, genuine pride at his own skill. 

‘Pretty awesome, yeah.’ He smiles, satisfaction mixed with a note of melancholy. ‘I kinda missed this.’

‘I know. Wanna go again?’

Eddie looks up and slowly grins at him. Steve commands the AI to generate a new scenario.

Not every simulation they try runs smoothly. At one point, they up the category to five, and end up chasing a Dracolich through several city blocks. 40 minutes later, when it’s finally defeated with a plasma shot straight into its mouth, at least a dozen buildings in the simulation lie in ruin, and their Jaeger has lost one arm. Technically, the mission is counted as a success, but it leaves a bad taste in both their mouths. It’s hardly a success when thousands of people could have died. 

They don’t need to speak to decide they should call it a day, both feeling each other’s exhaustion, mental as well as physical. 

“Drift disengage”, Eddie commands, pulling off his helmet as the AI confirms. 

Steve’s mind feels strangely empty with nothing but his own inner voice. It’s always like that, the first few minutes post-Drift. Almost feels… lonely. 

“Hey,” he says, approaching Eddie and laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a simulation.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie sighs, nodding. “I’m not… upset, exactly. Just trying to figure out what we could’ve done differently.”

“Let’s do it over lunch. I’m starving, man.” 

As they walk to the cafeteria, Eddie’s still quiet, lost in his thoughts, so Steve nudges him to draw his attention.

“Hey. I say we did great, especially for a first successful Drift. I honestly didn’t expect that. You wouldn’t believe how many times Dustin and I failed before we could even walk without toppling over. And we were both pretty decent when we trained solo.” Steve smiles. “We’re fucking perfect together, Eddie.”

Steve’s words seem to lift Eddie’s spirits a little. He doesn’t quite smile, but the wrinkles in his forehead smooth out. 

“You think we can try the real thing soon?” He asks. “‘Cos that can be a bit… different.”

“It’s a bit more intense, yeah,” Steve nods, remembering his attempt with Dustin. “I don’t know. That’s up to Hopper, depends how we score by the end of the week. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah? One step at a time.” 

Lunch is chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which they both decide is agreeable. Steve spots two seats available at the table where Dustin is sitting, so they head over there. Out of Dustin’s usual party, only the girls and Lucas are there. The rest of the seats are taken by some other Cadets he doesn’t know. 

Dustin raises his eyebrows, glancing between Steve and Eddie, seemingly surprised to see them together; fair, considering their yesterday morning’s interaction. 

“Hey, kids. Where are Mike and Will?” Steve asks as they sit down. 

“No idea. They came in, inhaled their lunch in like 2 minutes and ran off somewhere,” Max replies, shrugging. 

“You two suddenly friends now?” Dustin asks, narrowing his eyes at Steve.  

Steve glances over at Eddie, wondering how much of what happened over the past 30 or so hours he should explain. It might be stupid, but he feels like talking about their Drift training with Eddie before it’s official could jinx the whole thing.

Thankfully, Eddie turns out to be the master of deflection. 

“Who, me and my buddy Stevie here?” He grins, leaning against Steve and throwing an arm around his neck. “We are the best of friends!”

He smells like generic shampoo, cigarettes and a bit of sweat. It shouldn’t be a terribly pleasant combination, but Steve finds that he doesn’t mind it. At all. Or the sudden nickname, for that matter.

“Weren’t you guys, like, almost at each other’s throats yesterday?” Dustin doesn’t give up that easily. 

Steve snorts, exchanging glances with Eddie, needing no Drift to know they’re both thinking the same thing. You haven’t witnessed even half of it, kid. 

“Nonsense,” Eddie deadpans, sliding his arm off of Steve and reaching for a spoon. “We were having a perfectly civil disagreement. Nothing wrong with that.” He looks at Steve and winks suddenly, and Steve turns the attention to his bowl of soup, feeling his cheeks warming up.  

Fuck, it wasn’t even a flirty wink. But coupled with the way Eddie’s just draped himself all over him a moment ago, the memory of warm weight on his shoulders still lingering… Being winked at by an objectively handsome guy, it’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to have when you’re bisexual and your dick hasn’t seen any real action in over a year, okay. Doesn’t really mean anything… Right?

Chapter Text

Eddie spends the remainder of the week training with Steve, and with every successful simulation, he feels slightly more confident about potentially getting into a real Jaeger with the guy. 

Upon Steve’s suggestion, they always begin now with Eddie picking a song to play in the background. Eddie knows it’s a crutch they will eventually have to get rid of, but for now, the music helps a lot. It lets him focus on all the better memories as they enter the Drift. 

The few concerts he was able to attend in his life, the experiences worth every penny he spent. Him and his friends back at Hong Kong, jamming together and dreaming of someday, when this whole Majū nightmare was over, starting their own band. The joy of finally getting the whole Master of Puppets guitar solo right, after days of practice that gave him bleeding blisters. Even just him and Chrissy, lying back on the floor of his room, laughing about something, music playing in the background. 

Sometimes, flashes of those final moments in the Jaeger with Chrissy keep trying to pull them in, he can feel it, but he clenches his fists and begins humming along to the melody, and the painful memory floats by like the rest of them. With that obstacle behind them, drifting with Steve turns out to be mostly effortless. Steve’s mind is a soft, unresisting bubble, melding with Eddie’s without any resistance. 

None of Steve’s own memories are so explosive and nightmarish as to disrupt the neural handshake. But as Eddie slowly puts them together, they don’t really paint a picture of some happy, carefree, rich kid he made a mistake of initially assuming Steve was. 

Of course, he knows better now, after they’ve talked and after Steve’s shared his story of joining the Corps, but there are more pieces to that puzzle. Eddie already knew of Steve’s relationship with his father, but the way Steve said it, “we weren’t on the best of terms”, was putting it very mildly. The guy was downright abusive, verbally at least; unlike his own dad, Eddie’s never seen Steve’s give him bruises. But the things he said, even when Steve was still a child; the cold, commanding tone he spoke in, the way he always made Steve doubt his own self-worth was probably more horrifying than the occasional drunken punch. 

Steve’s mother, at least, seemed like a pleasant woman, always smiling and laughing, humming to herself as she cooked dinner. But then he sees her in one memory, wearing a suit likely worth more than he ever spent on clothes in his entire life, passed out on the couch, a mostly empty bottle of some fancy wine on the coffee table in front of her, and he understands how things can be not what they seem. 

A lot of young Steve’s memories appear to be of just him, alone in a big empty house. Eddie’s shocked when he sees one of him burning his hand on a stove cooking something, running cold water over the burn. The hand is tiny; he can’t be more than 10 years old. There are tears streaming down his face. Nobody’s rushing to comfort him. 

Not once, Eddie realizes at some point, did he witness a memory of either of Steve’s parents hugging him. 

Steve’s happiest memories seem to be the ones with Robin in it; to Eddie, seeing them always feels bittersweet, because they remind him of Chrissy and himself. But he keeps asking Steve about them anyway, because Steve’s whole face lights up when he recounts the various shenanigans they got up to. 

They don’t talk about the dark stuff, an unspoken agreement they both honor. What would they say, anyway? “I’m sorry this sucked”? Steve already knows how Eddie’s felt when encountering his memories, and so does Eddie regarding his own. 

Their afternoon routine involves having lunch, alternating between hanging out with the Cadets and Steve’s older friends, and then heading for the gym. Steve loves jogging, always runs at least ten miles, and it’s not a casual trot for warm-up like Eddie’s; he’s crazy fast. They take turns spotting each other with weights, challenge each other to ever increasing numbers of crunches and push-ups. They always finish their workout with a short sparring session, and Eddie keeps being impressed with how evenly matched they are. Where Steve lacks in technique and experience, he more than makes up with good instincts that allow him to defend against the sneakiest of Eddie’s attacks.  

By the time they are done, they are both drenched in sweat, shirts sticking to their skin, and Eddie can’t help but admire the view. He’s got eyes, all right, and Steve’s quite a sight to behold. Besides, he sometimes catches Steve looking, too, so it’s all fair and square. 

Eddie’s come far from the virginal bisexual disaster he was back in high school. The old him would have swooned and turned crimson red at the barest attention of someone like Steve. Now Eddie just smirks when he catches Steve obviously checking him out, and goes back to whatever he was doing. Steve, however, seems to get flustered every time he’s caught; Eddie finds it incredibly funny and just a little bit endearing. 

It’s another thing they don’t talk about. It’s not a big deal, Eddie tells himself, so nothing to discuss here.So what if they are both into other dudes, both objectively fit and good-looking. 

Well, on Eddie’s part, at least. Steve’s out of a whole different, sculpted-by-Adonis-himself league; but that’s not the point. Point is, physical attraction is perfectly normal. They are also grown adults who don’t have to make anything of it. 

But every time Steve’s gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, Eddie can’t help but feel a tiny bit of thrill in his gut. It’s just been a while since his last hookup, he tells himself, and it feels nice, to be admired like that. He’s only human. A tragically single, perpetually horny human. 

🤖🤖🤖

Saturday breaks their routine with a Majū alarm. It’s not exactly unexpected; its ETA was announced in the morning. But only with the alarm blaring through the entire complex, Eddie realizes how quiet it’s been all week.  

They’re already at the docks when it happens, Nancy and Barb getting suited up along with two guys Eddie doesn’t know. He watches Steve hug each of the girls in turn, whisper something to them, and they reply with a joke they all share a brief laugh about. But the laughter doesn’t reach their eyes, their usually soft and humorous disposition replaced with a cold pre-battle calmness.

Steve heads for the command center after that, and Eddie decides to join him, not feeling like working out alone. 

It’s a simple category 3. Back on the Western rim, sending two Jaegers after it would be considered a colossal waste of resources. Eddie doesn’t say that out loud, of course, just stands quietly besides Steve as they watch live footage of the Jaeger cams. 

Steve keeps pressing the knuckles of his hand to his mouth, fingers tucked into his fist, as if to stop himself from biting his nails. Only when the lifeless body of the creature sinks back into the ocean and the sensors confirm the loss of its life signature, Steve relaxes, exhaling slowly through his nose. Eddie reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, and Steve responds with a tiny nod at him, patting the hand on his shoulder twice before heading out.

After dinner, the gang all get together in Nancy’s room to celebrate, and Eddie’s surprised, but pleased, to be invited as well. He was never great at reading social cues, so he wasn’t sure if they were all just being friendly to him all the time because of Steve. It feels nice to be included. 

That night, he also finally meets Robin; it’s kind of weird he hasn’t seen her around before, with them almost being neighbors, and how her and Steve are literally inseparable from the moment she enters the room. But she explains that it was a tough week, her team working longer hours and having meals at the smaller cafeteria upstairs by the labs. They are working on something incredibly important, apparently. Something she can’t talk about yet. 

“So, you’re about to become the other half to Steve’s brain, then?” She asks, looking at him. 

Eddie laughs. “Well, fingers crossed.”

“Mine as well. Not sure how much longer this dingus can survive on half a brain.”

“Hey!”

Steve attempts to push her off the bed. She manages to grab onto his shirt, and they both tumble to the floor in a heap of limbs, shrieking and laughing as each of them keep trying to get the other into a headlock. Robin wins, and Eddie knows for a fact Steve let her.

Eddie likes her immediately. Not surprising; he practically knew her before they even met.

They pass around a bottle of (actually legally commissioned) tequila, which isn’t enough to get that many people properly drunk, but enough to keep a pleasant buzz going. At some point, Eddie lets it slip that he plays guitar, and the whole gang practically beg him to bring it over and play, so he heads to his room for his most precious Sweetheart and a portable amp. 

He’s fully aware that metal is not everyone’s cup of tea, so he plays some of the lighter stuff he knows. Bon Jovi and Queen both seem to be instant hits with his audience; the kind of joyful, carefree, pre-Majū era music that, to Eddie’s delight, has been making a big comeback in the past few years. Pretty soon, Eddie’s solo performance turns into a dancing/karaoke madness in the small room, everyone yelling the words to Bohemian Rhapsody, so incoherent despite the lyrics being pulled up on the wallscreen that Eddie nearly loses his own rhythm on the strings. 

Sometimes, when Eddie lifts his head, he still half expects to see Chrissy’s face among the rest, grinning at him, singing along and cheering him on. It’s no surprise; it’s been almost a month since her funeral, and yet he’s still sometimes shocked to realize she’s not by his side, never will be again. But there are other faces around him, new faces, with eyes that don’t look at him with all that unbearable pity that made him straight up avoid eye contact with everyone back in Hong Kong. With each song he plays, a tiny bit of weight lifts off of Eddie’s chest, and he realizes that it’s the first time in a month that he’s felt something close to pure joy. 

Eddie’s in the center of the room, one leg up on a chair, absolutely nailing the Guns N’ Roses Sweet Child o’ Mine solo when he catches Steve’s gaze on him; he’s not sure what possesses him, maybe it’s the alcohol to blame, or the thrill of performing buzzing under his skin. 

He kicks the chair away and heads towards Steve, chanting the next part of the lyrics, “Ooh, where do we go? Where do we go now?” He stops in front of Steve and raises his eyebrows, repeating the chords, and Steve ducks his head, shaking it. 

“Come on, brochacho! Don’t be shy!” Argyle encourages him, shoving what appears to be a can of hairspray in front of his face. 

Steve pushes it away, laughing, but meets Eddie’s eyes again and repeats the lyrics back, and Eddie grins, repeating them again before going totally wild with the “ay, ay, ay, ay” part, practically yelling and shaking his head right in Steve’s face like a wet dog while Steve laughs, his cheeks flushed, eyes darting between Eddie’s face and his guitar. 

Eddie turns on his heels and walks away, fingers aching pleasantly with the final chords, adrenaline pumping through his veins as everyone keeps yelling and whistling like he’s some kind of rockstar. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Robin lean towards Steve and whisper something in his ear, giggling; he halfheartedly slaps her on the shoulder and rolls his eyes. Then, Eddie’s suddenly hit in the face with something - a bra, he realizes as the object falls to the floor, apparently Nancy’s, but it’s obvious that it didn’t come from her by the way she yells Jonathan’s name and starts rapidly hitting him with a pillow. Eddie nearly doubles over laughing at the sight. 

Just then, there’s a loud banging on the door, one of Nancy’s neighbors yelling at them to keep it down, since it’s apparently way past midnight. The party is over; but Eddie’s smile still lingers on his lips even as he climbs into his bed half an hour later.

🤖🤖🤖

Eddie sleeps through the entire night and doesn’t remember what he dreamed about in the morning, but whatever it was, for once, he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, shaking and covered in cold sweat, the smell of burning Jaeger parts still lingering in his nostrils.

Sunday is a day off⁹, and Eddie spends all his time, minus meal times, in his room, reading and listening to music. The week felt really, really long, and as thrilled as he was to be welcomed by his new friends, his social batteries are drained. The mental exhaustion from daily Drifts didn’t help either. 

It’s not that he really minds Steve inside his head; he’s as comfortable with that as he’s going to get. It feels almost too right, in fact. Almost like it used to feel with Chrissy. It stupidly feels like he’s cheating on her. She would’ve laughed at that. He swallows a lump in his throat as he thinks that.

Steve knocks on the door of his room later that evening, and when Eddie opens, he is met with an excited grin and wide eyes. 

“Eddie, Eddie, guess what?” Steve’s almost bouncing on his toes. “I just bumped into Hopper. He says he’s very impressed with our score, he thinks we’re ready. He wants us to take the final test tomorrow.” 

“Uh. Okay,” Eddie replies in a cautious tone, leaning against his doorframe. His memory flashes back to how they met, right here, exactly one week ago. How much everything’s changed. “Do you think we’re ready?” 

“Hell yeah!” Steve reaches to bump his fist into Eddie’s shoulder. “We’ve worked hard for this, man. We’re gonna do great!”

Steve’s excitement and confidence are a bit contagious. Eddie lets himself smile.

“Well then.” He tilts his head. “Mesa better get some sleep. Goodnight to yousa.” 

“Oh my god, why are you speaking weird again?” 

Eddie chuckles.

“You, me, Star Wars marathon next Sunday. No objections.” He winks as he shuts the door. 

🤖🤖🤖

“...And last but not least,” Hopper says, wrapping up Monday morning’s briefing. “Munson and Harrington will be taking their test today, so let’s all wish them good luck.” The room explodes in cheers and applause, the loudest voices, of course, being Nancy, Barb, Jonathan and Argyle. Eddie spins around, grinning and blowing kisses to their fellow Rangers, channeling as much fake bravado as he can muster. When the excitement quiets down, Hopper continues. “Dock number 3, boys, be there in 15. Do me proud. Everyone dismissed.”

Eddie and Steve don’t speak as they head downstairs; there isn’t much left to discuss. As they suit up, Eddie glances at Steve and sees no trace of yesterday’s jubilant excitement. He doesn’t look nervous or scared, though, just fully focused. Meeting Eddie’s eyes, he gives him a small smile and a nod, and then waits for Eddie to finish tying his hair into a tight bun before walking through the hangar doors by his side. 

As they walk towards dock number 3, Eddie looks around. The hangar is smaller than the one in Hong Kong, and much less busy. Where he’s used to dozens of people swarming around at all times, here it’s just a few mechanics working on a Jaeger at dock 7, him and Steve, and…

“Robs! Hey!” Steve calls out, picking up the pace and jogging ahead of Eddie. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey boys,” Robin smiles, raising her head from the tablet in her hand. “I’m here to introduce you to your new Jaeger!” He gestures with her arm, and Eddie and Steve both raise their heads to take in the massive machine, mostly crimson red with metallic parts. “Well, it’s not yours, yet,” Robin amends. “But I totally believe in you guys!”

“Thanks, Robin,” Steve says softly, bringing her into a half-hug. 

Eddie takes a few steps closer to the giant foot. 

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Robin speaks from behind his back, sounding like someone showing off their new puppy. 

“Shit, I think I can see my own reflection in it. The Corps are giving us a new Jaeger?” He turns around and raises an eyebrow, skeptical. 

“Well, technically, not new”, Robin clarifies. “It’s mostly revamped from a decommissioned Jaeger, a 2023 model.”

“Oh, great.” Eddie winces. “So it’s essentially a shiny pile of old junk.”

“That junk kept me and my partner alive for six years. Have some goddamn respect, Ranger.”

A cold chill running down his back, Eddie whips around to see Captain Hopper approaching them. He swallows, wondering if he just ruined their chances by running his stupid mouth. 

“In all fairness, Capn’t” Steve intervenes cautiously, “those early models were kind of experimental. No offense to…” He glances at the Jaeger again. “Thunder Fist, was it?”

“What part of revamped didn’t you get, dingus? Reinforced joints, cryocannon, plasma cannon, ionic twinblades, the whole shebang!” Robin lists off excitedly.

“What about the glass at the cockpit?” Eddie enquires, his voice tense. 

“Replaced with high-strength synthesized carbon, same as all the new models,” Hopper replies in Robin’s place, and Eddie’s surprised when the Captain reaches for him and squeezes his shoulder briefly. “Stuff’s harder than a diamond.”

Eddie exhales and nods, grateful at the understanding in the man’s eyes. 

“Technically, it’s not even Thunder Fist anymore. The OS has been upgraded, and it doesn’t have an official designation, so…” Robin looks up at Hopper, an unspoken question hanging in the air.   

“Sure,” the Captain shrugs. “If you tame her, you name her. Now,” Hopper claps his hands together, “get into positions, Rangers. I’m heading for the command center. Good luck.”

Hopper walks away, leaving Eddie and Steve stare at Robin with amazement, then at each other, matching grins on their faces.

“Did you hear…?”

“Did he just…?”

“Oh my god, we get to name it!” Eddie grabs both Steve’s shoulders, buzzing with excitement. “Fucking hell yeah, let’s get up there and nail this, partner.”

🤖🤖🤖

They take up their usual positions, this time, finally, in a real Jaeger’s cockpit; Eddie on the right side, Steve on the left. Somehow, there’s a mutual understanding between them not to waste any more time; any attempts to mentally prepare at this point would only have an adverse effect. Nodding at each other, they simultaneously connect their helmets to the Jaeger’s system.

Engaging pilot-to-pilot connection.

Eddie decides to forego his musical crutch for the connection this time. But he does start humming, Sweet Child o’Mine, of all things, probably because it has been stuck in his brain since Saturday.

Neural handshake at 25%.

Although the memory of Chrissy stays peacefully in the back of his mind, it’s one of Steve’s that suddenly grabs Eddie’s attention. 

At first, it appears to be from the party. The Eddie in the memory shredding his guitar, then catching the observer’s eye and approaching. He flicks his gaze up and down in a way that can only be described as ravaging, licks his lips, slowly begins sinking to his knees; and— wait, hold on. Sure, Eddie was pretty drunk that night, but he's fairly sure this is not how things went.

Memory-Eddie looks up from under his eyelashes, smirking; a hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer, and he strums a final chord before letting go of his guitar, placing his hands on Steve’s thighs instead as he leans in and wraps his lips around— 

Warning: neural handshake unstable.

Right. Memories aren’t always of things that actually happened. Sometimes, they are memories of dreams. 

He feels heat, like his cheeks are burning, but he knows they’re not. At least, not that much. It’s coming from Steve. 

Eddie forcibly pushes the image away and focuses. Stay in the Drift. The Drift is silence. 

Neural handshake at 50%.

Eddie’s thoughts are empty.

Neural handshake at 75%.

Neural handshake complete. Handshake stable.

‘Eddie?’ Steve reaches out tentatively. ‘I’m sorry, I… That was…’

‘Dude,’ Eddie interrupts him. ‘One, no big deal. Two, you can’t exactly control dreams. Three, I shouldn’t have latched onto it. Five, we gotta focus. Wait, or was that four?’

He can feel Steve’s smile in his mind, and although the guy still seems a bit embarrassed, he lets it go.

Engaging Drift with the Jaeger in 3… 2… 1.

‘Oh fuck,’ he hears Steve in his mind, clearly overwhelmed.

‘Yeah that about sums it up.’ Eddie grins, then closes his eyes and gives himself a moment to adjust.

‘It’s… different, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s…’

‘Heavy.’

‘Yeah.’

There’s a reason not all candidates, regardless of good simulation scores, end up adjusting well to the neural network of a real Jaeger, and not everyone passes the final test. The simplest, although not quite accurate, analogy would be operating a real piece of machinery, even as simple as a truck, versus its VR simulation. The principle is the same, but the actual physicality of the object makes the experience significantly more intense. 

Eddie can feel the thousands of artificial neurons responding to their brains' impulses through the Drift, the raw power of hundreds of tons of titanium at his fingertips. Eddie flexes the fingers of his right hand, at the same time as he feels Steve tentatively move his left forearm, and the Jaeger moves along with them.  

Minds perfectly in sync, they begin walking, then running across the hangar, their Jaeger’s impossibly heavy footsteps causing a small earthquake throughout the room. They stop right below the command center’s observation deck, looking up to see Hopper watch them through the glass.

And then, following a split second of resistance and an inner eye roll from Steve, their Jaeger starts dancing the Macarena. 

‘Put your hip into it, Steve, you’re embarrassing us!’ 

‘Oh, I’m embarrassing us?!’

Hopper’s voice comes through the comms. He sounds like he’s trying to keep his voice even, and not out of anger.

“Congratulations, Rangers. Welcome to the team.”

It’s a miracle Eddie and Steve managed to stay mostly collected as they head to park their Jaeger back at dock 3. Mostly, because there’s an obvious bounce to the Jaeger’s giant steps. 

Then, they disengage the Drift, take off their helmets, and proceed to scream in each other’s grinning faces. 

🤖🤖🤖

“So,” Robin says, after congratulating them and hugging them both so tight Eddie thought his ribs were going to crack. “I still need to program the Jaeger’s name into the system. Got any thoughts?”

“Hmm.” Eddie rubs his chin, a tiny mischievous smile on his lips. “How about this.” He turns to Steve. “I pick a word, and you pick one too, and we’ll see if it sounds dope.”

“Okay. Uh, I don’t know, give me a moment to think.” Steve pauses. “Uhm, okay, how do we do this? Say it at the same time?”

“Yup.” Eddie grins. “Robin, countdown from three, please.”

“There’s gotta be a better way to do this, but sure, let’s see.” Robin says. “Ready? Three, two, one.”

“Butt.”

“Ninja.”

For a second, they stare at each other in silence, and then burst out laughing simultaneously.

“What the actual fuck, Eddie?” Steve yells, face red from laughter.

“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be funny,” Eddie replies, struggling to catch his breath. “Really though, Steve, Ninja? That was a serious suggestion?”

Steve shrugs, still chuckling. “I don’t know. Ninjas are cool. I used to like those Turtles cartoons when I was a kid.” Oh, there’s a little nerd at the heart of that guy, all right. 

“You dinguses are not naming your Jaeger Butt Ninja”, Robin rolls her eyes, although she’s biting back a laugh of her own. “Oh my god, I’m starting to regret this.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry, Robin,” Eddie says quickly. “Can we go again, for real?” 

“Last chance to do it right.” Robin fixes them each in turn with a stern look. 

“Tell you what, Eddie,” Steve suggests, “you go first, and then I pick something so the name isn’t just a random mess of words.”

“Okay, how about…” Eddie grins. “Hellfire.”

“Kinda… ominous,” Steve frowns. “Unless…” He chews on his lip, thinking. “How about… Guardian?”

“Hellfire Guardian”, Eddie slowly says, nodding, more rapidly each time and grinning. “Yeah. That’s fucking badass.” He places his palm on the cold metal surface of the Jaeger’s foot and looks up. “Nice to meet you, Hellfire Guardian.” He shifts his eyes to Steve. “We’re going to be one hell of a team.”

🤖🤖🤖

It’s only when he’s in his room that night, alone, sprawled across his bed on his back, that Eddie allows his mind to wander back to what he saw this morning in the Drift. It’s honestly weird as fuck, to be seeing himself as the object of an erotic fantasy, so his mind soon shifts it towards the alternate point of view: his own. Kneeling in front of Steve, slowly tugging down the zipper as the other man looks down at him with unconcealed lust in his eyes, sliding his hand into Eddie’s hair, tugging impatiently…

Eddie curses his brain and tries to think of literally anything else, but to no avail. It doesn’t help that the knowledge of Steve wanting him like that, way beyond occasional interested looks at the gym, makes him giddy and a little bit awestruck. Because fuck, did he try to ignore all that. But denial is nothing but a goddamn ticking bomb. 

He’s in trouble. Big, huge trouble. 

Speaking of huge… Fuck, if dreams are anatomically accurate with regard to the dreamer, he would absolutely choke on that thing. And love every second of it. 

Eddie groans and gives in, shoving his hand into his boxers and squeezing his rock hard dick. If this ends up making it to the memory reel of their future Drifts, well, so be it. There’s no context here.

Chapter Text

It’s three days later that Hellfire Guardian faces its first Majū. Eddie insisted they should be able to take a Category 3 down by themselves, and Hopper, with some reluctance, allowed them to prove themselves, although he also commanded Argyle and Jonathan to stand by, just a few hundred feet away, in case anything goes wrong. 

(Steve will never cease to be impressed with how these two managed to get away with naming their Jaeger after a pizza and one of their favorite weed strains; if Captain Hopper ever caught onto the true meaning behind Supreme Avalanche, he’s never mentioned it.)

They establish a Drift without a hitch, Steve doing his best to turn the myriad of images hitting his mind into white noise. 

‘That’s a Quasit?!’ Steve hears in his mind as they wait on the coast, watching the feed from an underwater drone following the creature. He glances at Eddie, whose eyebrows are up to his bangs. ‘I mean, I can kinda see the resemblance, but… for a Cat-three? What were they thinking?’

‘What, why?’

Eddie chuckles out loud. 

‘It’s supposed to be a tiny demonic creature. Two feet tall, at most.’

He must have sensed Steve’s confusion, because he turns to him, clearly amused.

‘At least half of the Majū types that we know of today have been given their designations by the xenobiology team from Hong Kong. All massive D&D nerds. I used to play with them sometimes.’

‘D&D?’

Eddie responds with a memory. A bunch of people around the table, talking all at once, surrounded by both paper notes and tablets, and a whole lot of colorful dice with varying numbers of sides. It’s hard to grasp everything that’s happening, but Steve gets the gist of it. 

‘So you’re saying they named those things after creatures from a fantasy game?’

‘Wild, right?’ 

Distance: 10 miles.

“Thanks, Helgar,” Eddie replies needlessly; Steve smiles. It’s the nickname Eddie came up with, because he turned out to be one of those people who actually talk to their Jaeger, and Hellfire Guardian was a mouthful to pronounce every time.

As the distance narrows down to a mile, they can already see the waves rising, then parting as water slides off the Majū heading for them. 

The fight lasts no more than two minutes. The creature is far from tiny, but it’s still half the size of their Jaeger, although very nimble and strong; it almost manages to trip them at one point. It moves too fast for their cannons to hit it, but eventually, Steve is able to to chop off one of its limbs with the ionic sword. 

As it shrieks in pain and frustration, it stops moving just long enough for the next blow to strike its neck, cutting the ugly green head clean off its shoulders. It falls to the sand and rolls like a football, the body still standing for a few seconds before toppling over to the ground with a minor earthquake.  

Steve raises their left foot and places it on top of the head, black blood still oozing out of its neck like oil out of a barrel. 

‘Well. It’s about two feet tall now, alright.’

Eddie laughs and Steve grins back at him.

“Hey, don’t squash the goods,” comes Jonathan’s voice from the comms. “The bio team will have a fit.”

“What is it with them and their obsession over Majū brains…” Steve murmurs to himself, kicking at the head lightly and stepping away. 

🤖🤖🤖

Despite being the middle of the week, a minor celebration is still in order. They all sit on the floor of an upstairs terrace, passing around a frankly massive joint nobody asks Argyle questions about, watching the sun setting over the horizon. 

Steve still feels the aftereffects of the adrenaline; less from the actual fight, and more from the whole day of its anticipation, of worrying against all odds that he might screw up somehow when finally facing the real deal. But mostly, he’s feeling content. Like he’s finally doing what he was supposed to all along. 

The war with the Majū is an ugly, brutal thing, but it’s a purpose, and he’s just proven to himself that he can do this. That his friends can rely on him. That Eddie can rely on him. 

Eddie, who’s now practically leaning against his side, yelling at Jonathan to stop hogging the joint. 

Steve guiltily lets himself enjoy the closeness and doesn’t question it. Eddie’s been weird these past few days, ever since Sunday, really. For all his insistence on ‘not a big deal’, he must have been uncomfortable about Steve’s dream. Sure, he’s seen Eddie’s own gaze linger on him at times; but it’s one thing to casually admire from a distance, and completely different to be starring in someone’s blatantly pornographic fantasies. 

Steve wonders what Eddie would say if he found out about the big fat crush he’s been gradually developing over the past two weeks. He’s not sure he could handle another ‘no big deal’ at that, too. 

At least Eddie’s in a good mood today, and not trying to pretend like he’s not avoiding Steve, while it’s blatantly obvious that he was. 

“My man, you gotta share with the heroes of the day!” Argyle says, plucking the joint out of Jonathan’s lips and passing it to Eddie. “All hail the destroyers of… what was that ugly thing called again?”

“Oh, I was just alooong for the riiiide,” Eddie says as he turns his head to Steve, not exactly slurred, but stretching the words. Then he throws an arm around Steve’s neck and grins at him, wide and wild, their faces just inches apart. His eyes are huge this up close, and so, so pretty. “Harrington got the bastard. Didn’t ya, big boy?” He shakes Steve a little by the shoulders and turns back to Argyle, the rest of their conversation totally lost on Steve, who stares ahead, slowly blinking. 

Big boy? What the hell? Where’d that come from?

But his brain is a little fuzzy, the weed finally getting him fully relaxed and boneless, comfortable with Eddie’s arm still around him, Eddie’s head leaning against his temple. Eddie slowly exhales the smoke, and then he doesn’t pass the joint to Steve, simply raises it to his lips. 

Steve inhales and closes his eyes, letting his mind run blank, almost akin to a Drift. The only thought that comes to him is that they should make regular weed consumption part of the official training; it definitely puts you in the right mindset. The idea suddenly seems so hilarious to him that he starts giggling, and can’t stop for several minutes. Everyone else is eventually laughing with him, or at him - he’s not sure - and he doesn’t care. 

It’s only hours later, getting ready for bed, his head mostly clear of weed, that it hits him. His cheeks are burning, and he’s not sure what to think. 

So what, Eddie says it’s not a big deal, and then turns around and decides to shamelessly call him that? Because what else could it be about, other than what he could clearly see in that dream? The one where Steve’s treacherous sleeping mind decided to conjure a very vivid image of Eddie’s mouth around his own, rather sizable dick?  

Steve falls asleep determined to confront Eddie about this. But when morning comes, he can’t bring himself to; the whole idea of this conversation feels absurd and makes his cheeks turn crimson red. 

🤖🤖🤖

Eddie, apparently, was dead serious about his earlier promise on watching Star Wars. He promised they’d only watch “the original six, the classics, the only ones that are worth it anyway”, splitting them between two weekends. Then he went on a long rant about how Disney buying the franchise completely ruined it, which turned into another rant on big corporations and mass consumption culture ruining everything. Steve had to fall back on muscle memory to make his best ‘paying attention’ face from high school.  

After breakfast on Sunday, Eddie snatches a large bottle of coke from the cafeteria fridge and leads Steve to his room, practically dragging him by the hand half the way. Steve tries really hard not to think of any connotations here. Especially since there’s no seats in the room apart from a frankly uncomfortable chair by the desk, so they both end up on Eddie’s bed, on his sheets, because the guy clearly couldn’t be bothered to make his bed. 

Actually, Eddie’s whole room is a mess. It’s clean, but there’s stuff everywhere, with no apparent system whatsoever: books, pencils, various figurines, boxes of board games and even some CDs (who even uses them anymore?!). 

There are posters haphazardly put up on walls, of his favorite bands, most likely; Steve recognizes the names Metallica, Iron Maiden and Dio. They aren’t technically supposed to decorate the walls, but Hopper for sure wouldn’t give a shit. Steve doesn’t even remember when it was the last time their Captain feigned a room inspection, barely glancing inside an open door of each before moving on.

Steve likes it. It looks homey, much more than his own, tidy, mostly empty room. 

Eddie’s got two guitars leaning against opposite walls, the electric one he brought to the party last week, and an acoustic. There’s also a smaller instrument on the desk, with only four strings.

“What’s that?” Steve asks and points at Eddie’s questioning gaze. 

Eddie chuckles, pouring them a glass of coke each. 

“Ukulele. Honestly, not my favorite thing, but I taught myself to play it because someone on the Internet was wrong.”

“What? Like… Seriously?” 

“Oh yeah.” Eddie’s grin is wild. “The guy said you can’t play metal on it. I spent two months just to make a video to prove him wrong.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, but it’s a sound of pure admiration. He’s never been that passionate about anything in his life as Eddie is about music. And a whole lot of other things. 

“So what, did he admit he was wrong?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eddie replies with a smug smirk.

“Was he annoyed at you?”

“Nope, we’re actually Facebook friends now. We talk from time to time.”

Leaving Steve to process that bizarre bit of information, Eddie pulls up Episode IV: A New Hope on the wall screen. 

“Why are we starting with number four?”

Eddie sighs. “You have much to learn, my young Padawan.” He pats Steve on the shoulder and hands him his glass of coke. “Just watch.”

Steve, of course, was always aware of Star Wars. A big Disney franchise, something you probably couldn’t avoid even if you lived like a hermit and didn’t have Internet access. He vaguely remembers seeing some cartoons as a little kid; and he even went to see one of the movies with a girl when he was about 15¹⁰, but the plot was so confusing he didn’t really enjoy it. She, being a huge fan of the series, tried to explain it all to him, and even offered to watch all the movies with him. He googled how long that would take and politely refused. He didn’t see the point of spending so many hours on movies at the time, especially since some of them were practically ancient. 

And yet, he’s here now. Because Eddie invited him. Well, more like bullied Steve into this with jokes and references he was gradually becoming more and more annoyed at not getting; it didn’t help that Eddie likely talked Dustin into it, too. 

But Steve finds himself enjoying it. And not just because Eddie’s beside him, looking positively delighted whenever Steve reacts to something in the movie. The graphics are funny-looking, a lot of what he’d expect to be CGI today are rather goofy handcrafted costumes, but overall, he likes it. It’s not too fast-paced, the plot leaves him with some unanswered questions, but isn’t overly confusing. 

Eddie beams at him, eyes wide and sparkling, when Steve tells him to pull up the next part while he takes a bathroom break. Steve forces himself to look away. Fuck, he’s got it bad. 

🤖🤖🤖

The following week is weird, and Steve doesn’t know what to make of Eddie’s behavior. He’s like that old song by一 Katy Perry, was it? Sometimes he’s all over Steve, says things that are blatantly flirty, throws an arm around him, smiles at him in ways that give him stomach butterflies. It lights up a flicker of hope in his chest, makes him wonder if his own feelings might not be entirely unrequited, if he should maybe say something. But other times, it’s like Eddie purposefully puts distance between them, barely reacts to what Steve’s saying, as if lost in thought, and picks a different table from Steve at mealtimes. 

Their Drifts become a bit strained. Eddie’s mind is not resisting, per se, and not hiding anything, but every time they connect, Steve feels a certain anxiety on Eddie’s part. He’s not a total asshole to go looking for what Eddie might not want him to see, but he hates it. Thankfully, once they are both focused on a mission, Steve can put it out of his mind; they are both still perfectly in sync when they move and fight, and that’s all that matters. 

In the end, Steve does see something. It’s after Eddie makes some stupid joke about the Majū they just battled, and Steve can’t stop laughing, loses his focus. Thankfully, it’s only a simulation, so they just turn off the blaring instability alarms and wait for the system to disengage their disaster of a Drift.

But just before that happens, a memory flashes at him, so bright he can’t help but notice. It’s of last Sunday; Eddie’s hitting him with a pillow because he keeps calling the Ewoks ‘teddy bears’, and they are both laughing, and then Steve keeps watching the movie, still smiling. But Eddie’s gaze lingers, keeps darting across the side of his face, and then darts down, to where their palms are resting side by side on the bed. Eddie’s pinky finger lifts, trembles just above Steve’s, and then Eddie all but jerks his hand away, pulling it into his lap, eyes on the screen again. 

“I’m starving,” the real, present Eddie declares, jerking Steve out of his daze. “There better be something meaty for lunch today. You coming?” He asks, taking off his helmet and heading for the exit.

Steve nods and follows him, staring at Eddie’s back, the memory still fresh in his mind. His heart is thundering in his chest as he processes what he just saw. Is Eddie even aware that he saw it? 

He’s so, so confused. And a little annoyed, honestly. Eddie’s behavior lately suddenly makes more and less sense at the same time. They’ve both made it perfectly clear to each other they are both into other men. Eddie’s clearly interested, and aware that Steve is, too. So what the hell is going on? 

They need to talk. Soon. 

🤖🤖🤖

The next day is Sunday, and it’s time for another Star Wars marathon, with the three relatively newer movies. Apparently, those are prequels, so at least the numbering of the episodes now makes sense to Steve. The order of watching them doesn’t yet, but Eddie promises there’s a big reveal at the end of the trilogy that will only be impactful if you already know the rest of the story. 

Steve does pay attention to the movie, but he also is very aware of Eddie. Who, he can tell at some point, is not watching the screen at all. 

He figures it’s as good a time as any. Following a quiet sigh, not turning his head, he speaks up.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“Hmm? Talk about what?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie whip his head around towards the screen, then back at Steve. Making it seem as if he was watching the movie right before Steve spoke. Steve fights the urge to roll his eyes; instead, he points his open palm at the screen, making two rapid fists in a row, a universal gesture the camera picks up and interprets as Pause. 

“The way you look at me, Eddie,” he says, finally turning to see Eddie’s face. 

Eddie isn’t looking at him anymore, though. He’s quiet, and strangely tense, hugging his knees to his chest, like he’s trying to curl into a tiny ball and disappear, maybe. Is he embarrassed?

“Okay, look. Cards on the table.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I like you. It’s not just… ” He feels himself blush, but goes on regardless. “Not just some dreams I can’t control. I like you, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie replies after a short pause, still staring at his own knees; there’s a small smile tugging on his lips, but his voice sounds almost… miserable. 

For a moment, Steve is at a loss for words.¹¹

“Uh… okay, if you know, why do I keep getting mixed signals from you, man?” Steve really struggles to keep his voice even. “What the fuck are we doing? Why are you trying to pretend there’s nothing here? And don’t you dare tell me ‘it’s not a big deal’.” 

“It is a big deal, Steve. That’s the problem.” 

Steve processes the words for a moment, and then groans in frustration, rubbing his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He stares at the side of Eddie’s face like he’s trying to burn a hole through it. “Eddie? Can you please at least look at me?” 

Thankfully, Eddie does; Steve is taken aback for a second by just how sad Eddie looks. And he doesn’t understand why. And he wants so make it better, and he doesn’t know how. Steve suddenly wishes he confronted Eddie in the Drift, instead; at least then, maybe, he could make sense of the unspoken things behind the man’s eyes. 

On a whim, he brings a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. Eddie doesn’t flinch away; moreso, his eyes dart to the side, to Steve’s hand, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, his lips part, a shaky breath escaping them. 

Fuck this, Steve decides, and leans in to press his lips against Eddie’s. 

Closing his eyes, he feels a tiny gasp on his own lips, but otherwise, Eddie’s mouth isn’t moving. For a second, Steve is terrified that he made a terrible mistake; but then, there’s another, sharper gasp, like all air leaving Eddie’s lungs all at once, and he tilts his head, and kisses Steve back. Steve’s heart soars as he feels Eddie’s plush lips move against his own. It feels right, feels like the world is finally making sense again.  

It only lasts for a moment, though. Then, there’s a hand on his chest, gently, but firmly pushing him back a few inches as Eddie leans back, too, putting distance between them. He isn’t meeting Steve’s eyes again, staring somewhere in the direction of his shoulder.

“Steve, I… I’m sorry.” Eddie swallows. “I shouldn’t have… You just… Fuck.” He looks even more miserable than before the kiss. Honestly, Steve feels like bursting into tears himself; he’s so done with this confusing emotional rollercoaster. “You should probably leave,” Eddie adds, turning away from him completely. 

“Why?” Steve asks, realizing his voice is shaking but no longer caring. “What the fuck, Eddie?” 

“You don’t get it. I can’t.” Eddie shakes his head.

“Then help me understand, Eddie! Fuck!” 

He’s shouting, can’t help it, but it isn’t getting to Eddie. He remains calm, and it’s frankly terrifying. 

“Please, Steve. Just leave,” he says quietly.

Steve wants to press on, wants to yell, part of him even wants to punch Eddie, get him out of this weird stone-cold stupor. But he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he’d rather keep what little remains of his dignity after this entire humiliation.  

Angry, heartbroken, hurt, but most of all, unbelievably frustrated, he storms out of Eddie’s room, letting himself have the satisfaction of slamming the door behind him as hard as he can.  

Steve’s survived a number of rejections in his life; heartbreaks over ladies who weren’t as into him as he was into them, unrequited crushes on straight guys, even a breakup from a long-term relationship with a girl who didn’t love him enough to handle the long-distance when he signed up for the Corps. But he’s never been in a situation when all signs pointed to mutual attraction, and the person was clearly single, and yet pushed him away without any clear explanation. 

He passes the door to his own room and walks straight into Robin’s. Usually, she’d scold for barging in without knocking, but one look at his face is enough for her to just reach him in several quick strides and wordlessly pull him into a tight hug. 

Only with his face buried in his best friend’s shoulder, Steve finally lets the tears fall. 

Chapter Text

Eddie wakes up to a 5:45 alarm, which he set in hopes of being able to have breakfast early. Before seeing Steve again. Obviously, they couldn’t avoid each other for much longer, but he wanted at least to have a cup of coffee before he had to deal with the awkwardness of talking to his co-pilot after last night.

Unfortunately, Steve seems to have had the same idea, because the moment Eddie walks out of his room, freshly showered and dressed, he notices Steve’s door opening. Eddie freezes half-way through shutting his own door; it would be downright stupid now just to ignore Steve and walk away, so he braces himself and glances up. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, hoping his voice sounds neutral enough. 

“Morning,” Steve responds quietly, averting his gaze right after giving Eddie a brief smile. And even that comes out bland and insincere. Nothing like the cheerful way Steve usually greeted him in the mornings, like seeing Eddie again was the highlight of his day, despite them spending most of their waking hours in each other’s orbit. 

What’s worse, even from several feet away, Eddie can see Steve’s eyes are red-rimmed, framed with signature dark circles of someone who didn’t get much sleep. 

Eddie’s heart feels like being instantly squeezed with a stone fist. Everything that transpired between them last night flashes before his eyes for the hundredth time, doubt flaring up again about whether he made the right choice. Pushing the other man away, when every inch of his body and soul wanted to pull him in and keep kissing those lips, soft and sweet like cotton candy. When Steve Harrington was the best thing that’s happened to Eddie since… well.

That is precisely the problem.

As Eddie starts walking towards the cafeteria, staying a few steps behind Steve so the silent awkwardness isn’t entirely unbearable, he reminds himself once again why he did the right thing. Why he couldn’t afford getting too close. He’d already made a mistake of growing attached to Steve’s sunshine smiles and the gentle warmth of his company. 

Eddie had to learn the hard way that the Corps base, despite the similar vibe of camaraderie among the Cadets that naturally develops within close quarters, isn’t some kind of summer camp. You can’t really bond with people and let them into your heart, because at the end of it all, when they’re no longer with you, it’s not because they have moved somewhere far away. You won’t be able to write them letters, they won’t call, you’ll never hear their voice again, except in your unrelenting nightmares. 

Chrissy’s scream still woke him up im the middle of every other night, leaving him shaking and sobbing until sleep mercifully took him again. The pain in his chest was mostly numb during the day, but those nights, it felt like ripping open a mostly scarred over wound, again and again. 

If this is how it feels to lose a best friend… Eddie can’t even imagine the pain that could come from someone you let yourself fall in love with. 

It would be so, so easy to fall in love with Steve Harrington. Not just because he’s objectively gorgeous; Eddie’s not that shallow. It’s because Steve turned out to be one of the sweetest and most caring human beings Eddie’s ever known. Someone who believed in Eddie when Eddie no longer believed in himself. Someone who laughs at his stupid jokes and listens to him, no matter if it’s a serious conversation or Eddie just gushing about his nerdy hobbies. Someone who babysits a bunch of Cadets occasionally, even though they’re brats who poke fun at him all the time. 

And… yeah, okay, it’s not helping that apparently Steve is obviously very much attracted to him, and is capable of turning all of Eddie’s insides into mush with a simple gentle press of lips against his.  

Suddenly, Eddie’s wristband starts beeping and vibrating incessantly. It’s the signal of an emergency message; judging by the way Steve stops ahead of him and turns around, he’s getting it too. And from the look on his face, Eddie can tell that it’s far from a normal occurrence over here at six in the morning. 

Eddie opens the message while Steve seems to discard his own, taking a step towards Eddie to listen. Captain Hopper’s voice sounds calm and collected as usual, but the content of the message is anything but.  

“To all Rangers, emergency meeting in the briefing room at 6:15. Breakfast will be postponed until after the meeting.”  

Eyes wide, Eddie looks up to see a matching expression on Steve’s face. What the fuck is going on? 

🤖🤖🤖

The atmosphere in the briefing room, as it starts filling with sleepy Rangers, some still buttoning up their uniforms as they enter, is of quiet and nervous anticipation. The usual buzz of voices is replaced with occasional concerned whispers and murmurs among themselves.

Finally, Captain Hopper walks in, and the look on his face confirms Eddie’s fears. Something is very, very wrong. 

“Rangers,” Hopper addresses the room, which has fallen dead silent. “Thank you for coming, I promise you’ll all have a chance to have your coffees and eggs once I deliver this information. I wanted you all in the room rather than forward the message, since the situation is rather unprecedented. As of 02:30 this night, we received notice of multiple Majū sightings at the Gate.” He pauses to glance at his tablet. “Two Cat-threes, both a Basilisk species. One Cat-four, a Hydra.” Hopper looks up, and Eddie realizes that’s not all. And Hopper looks straight at him for a long second, before moving his gaze around the room as he says, “and one Category five. Tarrasque.” The captain takes another deep breath before announcing what Eddie’s been expecting all along. “According to their current trajectories, all four Majū are currently headed for us.”

The room is silent for just another second before exploding with a cacophony of voices, questions and exclamations of disbelief. 

“Wait, are you kidding? Four of them?”

“Why would they all suddenly attack us?” 

“Captain, what’s going on? Nothing like this has ever happened here!”

Eddie forces the memory of a deafening roar of a creature that murdered his best friend out of his mind, and turns his head to Steve, who’s already looking at him, a concerned frown on his face. 

“You okay?” He asks quietly, but Eddie doesn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper silences everyone within seconds with a stern raise of a hand. 

“I’m well aware that it’s far from what we’re used to on this side of the Rim. We don’t know why this is suddenly happening, we still don’t know everything about these bastards’ behavior. But we know the facts. They are heading our way. I know it’s scary,” he says, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room in turn. “And it’s perfectly fine to be scared. But I also know each and every one of you is ferocious and brave. You’re all damn good fighters, and I’m proud to have you under my command.” He pauses again. “I’d like all teams to be ready. You’ll all receive your assignments within an hour. We still have approximately 10 hours before the Majū are scheduled to reach us. Use that time wisely, Rangers. Be ready, and try to get some rest if you can.”

🤖🤖🤖

Breakfast has never been this gloomy. Even the Cadets’ table is mostly quiet; just yesterday, it was impossible to shut them up, all buzzing about their final tests that are coming up just around the corner. 

Eddie’s on his second coffee, but could barely force down a few mouthfuls of food. He keeps thinking of their assignment. The fucking Hydra. Him, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle were to target it; four other teams were assigned to the Tarrasque, including Nancy and Barb. They were all experienced fighters, with three or more years in the field, and although none of them has ever fought a Tarrasque, they have all faced Cat-fives before. They were the best people for the job.

Eddie shouldn’t feel relieved that he wouldn’t be facing that fucking creature again tonight. He shouldn’t. Not when people who have become good friends of his are taking on that burden. Not when Nancy keeps staring at her plate like that, hasn’t touched her food or coffee ever since they all sat down.

“Hey, Nancy,” he speaks up. When she looks up, he hesitates momentarily; but then keeps speaking despite the flare of shame. Because it’s not about him, not about his past and his biggest failure. It’s about doing everything for the safety of his new friends, and the millions of people on shore who rely upon them. “Look, I know my last encounter with a fucking Tarrasque was less than… a success.” He swallows. “But still, we… I’ve fought the bastard. I know how it moves, its tricks and quirks a simulation won’t show you. If you want, I can walk you guys through all that.”

Nancy shares a look with Barb, then gives him a tense, but grateful smile, nodding. “Yeah, thanks Eddie, that would actually be really helpful. Let’s do that after breakfast. I’ll let the others know, too.” She digs through the eggs on her plate, just mindlessly moving them around, not really eating. “But I wasn’t thinking about that, to be honest. Something else worries me.”  

“What’s up, Nance?” Steve asks, frowning. Eddie throws him a brief glance; in the midst of all that’s happening, he almost forgot about everything that transpired between them, but now regret tugs at his heart once more. Today is definitely not a great time to have a falling out with your co-pilot. He could have handled last night better. He could have explained…

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Nancy interrupts his thoughts. “Look, I respect the Captain, and I shouldn’t be doubting him. It’s stupid.”

“Nonsense,” Barb intervenes, nudging her co-pilot with an elbow before turning to the rest of them. “Nancy thinks Cap was lying. And she’s practically a walking lie detector, so I believe her.”

“I didn’t say lying, Barb! I just mean… I don’t think he was telling us the truth.”

“And… what’s the difference, exactly?” Eddie narrows his eyes. 

“I don’t know, just… maybe he has legitimate reasons for that!”

“Nancy,” Jonathan speaks up in a calm voice, leaning forward on his elbows. “What was Hopper lying about?”

Nancy sighs deeply, shoots Barb a mild glare, and turns to them again. 

“There was a moment when… he was kind of weird. It was subtle, but he averted his gaze, and I think…” She pauses, lowers her voice. “I think when Hopper said they don’t know why this is all happening, why there are four Majū heading straight for us… that part wasn’t true.”

They all share a look, unsure how to respond to that. Why would Hopper be hiding anything from them? Eddie frowns, wondering if Nancy might be imagining things; but everyone else seems to be taking her words seriously. Besides… what’s happening doesn’t make sense to Eddie, either. 

“Has anyone checked what’s going on at the other bases?” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan replies, keeping his voice low as well. “A couple of Cat-threes in Tokyo, they’re dealing with them as we speak. Another Hydra in Hong Kong. That’s all, like, ‘business as usual’ over there, right? Nothing for Anchorage or Lima.” 

“So it’s not some kind of massive Majū activity flare-up,” Eddie concludes. “It’s just us here. We’re being targeted.” 

“Targeted?” Steve frowns. “But why us, specifically?” 

Nobody has an answer to his question. Another glum silence falls, interrupted only with an occasional scraping of a fork against a plate, or a slurp from a coffee cup. 

🤖🤖🤖

Eddie doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the day, until the evening Majū alarm announcing the ETA of the monsters in approximately 1 hour, calling all teams to head for the docks and prepare for departure in their Jaegers. 

“You’d think the Hydra would have reached us first,” Eddie speaks to break the awkward silence between them as they tug on their helmets and perform a systems check. “But no, these bastards are all moving together,” he nods to the map screen with Majū position tracking, the four dots heading for LA all clustered together.

“Like a pack hunting its prey, right?” Steve says, finally looking at Eddie. 

“Yeah. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”

Eddie was a bit concerned that they might have issues establishing the Drift this time. With Steve avoiding him all day, he wasn’t sure if his mind would accept the connection; and true, he does feel a bit of resistance he doesn’t remember from before, but upon a gentle nudge, Steve lets him in. And even though he can feel that Steve’s hurt, unhappy, definitely a little pissed at him, it’s overshadowed by anxiety and worry. 

‘We’re gonna be fine, Steve. We’ve fought a Hydra before.’

‘Not the real thing, though. You’ve said it yourself, a simulation isn’t the same.’

‘True. But it’s two against one. The odds are in our favor.’

As if on cue, Argyle’s voice comes through the comms, cheerful as ever.

“Ready to kick some Hydra butt tonight, brochachos?” 

Eddie and Steve share a look. A small smile finally breaks through Steve’s tense features, and Eddie can’t help the wave of affection that seeps through their link from his side. 

🤖🤖🤖

It all goes smoothly, at first. The biggest challenge with a Hydra is the fact that the monster has three heads, making it very aware of its surroundings; the usual fighting strategy of having one Jaeger act as bait and the other sneak up from behind doesn’t apply. Instead, they both focus on circling around it in opposite directions, striking with cannons from a distance and overwhelming the creature. When it finally launches itself at Hellfire Guardian, Eddie and Steve manage to dodge in the last moment and strike against one of its long necks, cutting one of its heads clean off; and while the Majū is momentarily paralyzed with pain, Argyle and Jonathan jump in to blast through the second head with a precise close-range shot. 

It’s all over within a minute after that. A one-headed Hydra is no more threatening than your regular Category 3 Majū. 

But then, before they even get a chance to celebrate their victory, Nancy’s voice comes through the comms. 

“Guys. Hellfire Guardian, Supreme Avalanche, the Tarrasque escaped us and is heading north. We’re chasing, but the bastard’s fast.” 

“Message received, Wicked Striker,” Jonathan responds. “We’ll intercept.” 

“What the hell is it doing?” Steve asks. “Is it trying to get away?”

“I’ve mapped its trajectory,” Nancy replies. “I don’t know why, but I think it’s heading in the direction of the base.”

Eddie can barely hear the rest of the conversation, though, as they round a corner of an abandoned, half-ruined building, and catch sight of the humongous creature, twice the size of any Jaeger, barreling on towards them with astonishing speed, despite already looking severely wounded. 

It’s impossible not to remember. The last time this happened, the smell of smoke and blood, Chrissy’s scream nearly deafening in his ears… It’s going to happen again, he thinks. I’m going to lose Steve. 

‘Eddie!!!’ Steve’s voice, yelling, finally reaches his mind and snaps him back to reality, but it’s a few seconds too late. The Tarrasque collides with them at full speed, growling as it smashes Hellfire Guardian into the side of a building with force. Three giant clawed fingers close around each of the Jaeger’s arms, pinning them down, while its enormous jaws begin opening right in front of their faces; and Eddie realizes what it’s trying to do. 

It can’t bite through the Jaeger’s head. But a Tarrasque’s jaws are strong enough to bend it. Crush him and Steve both into a pulp, if it succeeds. 

A sudden bright flash of a plasma shot hits their eyes, blinding them momentarily; it must have come from Jonathan and Argyle. The creature howls in pain, and its grip on their Jaeger’s arms weakens. Neither of them misses this chance; twisting Guardian’s arms out of the Tarrasque’s hold, they strike, punching at the monster’s head and striking at its middle with the ionic sword. 

In that moment, the other three teams finally reach them, with Nancy and Barb ahead, yelling at them through the comms to get out of the line of fire. Steve and Eddie duck, vision finally clearing enough to catch sight of the Tarrasque, half of its jaw already missing from the earlier shot. 

In the next moment, multiple plasma shots and rockets start hitting its head and upper body from all sides; the creature lets out a final, furious, agonized roar, and collapses to the ground.

🤖🤖🤖

Despite the epic victory over the largest simultaneous attack on LA to date, and miraculously with no casualties, nobody feels like celebrating that night. Eddie, like many others, just heads straight for his room after a very quiet dinner. Steve calls after him, but Eddie ignores him; he can’t look Steve in the eye.

He’s a fucking failure. He froze, right in the middle of the mission. Fucking ironic, with how he gave Steve shit that first day about having little experience. About being unreliable. Who’s unreliable between the two of them now?  

If it weren’t for the others, it could have cost them their lives. No; it could have cost Steve his life. For some reason, it was the only scenario that occurred in Eddie’s head in that moment of pure terror; he didn’t think of himself potentially dying, because surely, fate wouldn’t be so merciful. He’s always going to watch the people he loves die at his side, and be left behind to suffer through the memories and the guilt.    

The people he loves… Because who is he kidding? No matter how hard he tried not to, of course he loves Steve. He was a goner from that very day of their first successful simulation, when Steve was a giant ball of buzzing energy, beamed at him like the sun, told him he was badass and that they were perfect together. But even if Eddie wasn’t a tragically bisexual sucker for compliments, Steve still quickly became the closest person in Eddie’s life at the moment. 

Eddie could blame the Drift for that happening. But he knows, of course, that the Drift doesn’t make people love or even like each other; it’s the other way around. The pilots who can establish a stable Drift together are by default already capable of a deep emotional bond with each other; or they wouldn’t be compatible. The Drift just speeds up the process of getting to know the other person. Like a weird kind of matchmaking system.

Eddie showers quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, changes into pajamas and falls on his bed. He reaches for his guitar, hoping that some practice would take his mind off of grim thoughts and overbearing guilt; but he keeps messing up the chords and only grows frustrated as a result. Finally giving up, he switches off the lights and curls up under the blanket, hoping for dreamless sleep, but already knowing he won’t be so lucky. 

Chapter Text

Steve is jerked out of his, admittedly, rather restless sleep by several loud banging sounds coming from the door. He sits up immediately, glancing at his wrist to reorient himself. It’s just past 1am. 

Despite the fact that it takes him a minute to crawl out of bed and approach his door, whoever woke him doesn’t knock again, like maybe they changed their mind. Steve quickly steps out into the corridor and catches the sight of Eddie, who’s just about to sneak back into his own room, apparently. Upon hearing Steve’s door open, he freezes and looks up. 

Steve notices that he’s barefoot and just in his T-shirt and pajama pants, same as Steve. Like whatever made him knock on Steve’s door in the middle of the night was urgent enough to forego even putting on some shoes. And looks like it was; Eddie’s visibly shaken, brows furrowed and lower lip trembling.

“Eddie?” Steve takes a few steps towards him, stopping just within reach, but unsure if his touch would be welcome. “What happened?” 

“Nothing, nothing, man, it’s stupid. I just… just wanted to…” Eddie shakes his head and turns away, taking a step back. “Never mind. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He sounds so completely distressed; Steve’s never seen him like this. Even after yesterday’s mission, while Steve was genuinely shaken up to his core, Eddie looked more pissed at himself for his momentary mishap than anything else. Steve wanted to talk to him afterwards, to reassure him, but Eddie didn’t look like he was in the mood, barrelling right past Steve the moment they disengaged the Drift, and not saying a word over dinner. 

Before his friend has a chance to take another step, Steve catches his arm. Gently, with no intent to stop Eddie by force; but Eddie stills anyway, doesn’t fight him. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t stupid,” Steve says softly. 

He tugs on Eddie’s arm lightly and starts walking backwards. Thankfully, Eddie follows him into his room. He’s quiet, averting his eyes, worrying his lip between his teeth as Steve shuts the door behind them and turns to face him.   

“Was it a nightmare?” He prompts gently, and the way Eddie looks back at him, eyes wide and wet, tells him he guessed right. He knows, of course, that Eddie still gets nightmares about Chrissy; it was never that bad though. Or at least Eddie assured him it wasn’t. “I’m so sorry, Eddie… This is all fucked. But it’s just a memory, it’s just like in the Drift一” 

“It wasn’t just a memory,” Eddie interrupts him, voice tense. 

Steve frowns. Eddie drops his gaze, fixes his eyes somewhere in the direction of Steve’s feet. 

“I didn’t see Chrissy this time.” He swallows, shakes his head, his fists keep clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I saw you. Everything else was the same, but it wasn’t Chrissy, it was you.” His voice gets more and more uneven as he speaks. “Screaming. Dying. Burning. Crushed by that monster’s jaws. Pierced with its claws and bleeding on the floor. Dying, dying, dying, over and over again…” Eddie sniffs and trails off, wiping at his face quickly with his forearm.

“Fuck.” Steve takes a step closer, places a hand on Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie tenses for a fraction of a second, then relaxes into his touch and lets out a long, shaky sigh. 

“Yeah. It’s why I… I don’t know. It was an impulse, I just needed to see you.” He glances up. “I needed to see you’re okay, man. I know it’s一”

“Not stupid,” Steve repeats before Eddie can finish. He closes the remaining distance between them and scoops Eddie into his arms, not thinking about anything other than comforting him in the moment. 

Eddie doesn’t push him away. He burrows his face into Steve’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him, squeezing him tight. Steve can practically feel the other man’s frantic heartbeat against his chest; he tangles his hand in Eddie’s hair and rubs the back of his neck gently, pretending he didn’t hear what was definitely a sob in his ear. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers soothingly, petting Eddie’s back with his other arm. 

“I can’t fucking lose you too,” Eddie murmurs, muffled against his shoulder. “I can’t.”

“Hey. Hey,” Steve leans back slowly, tries to catch Eddie’s eye. “You’re not gonna.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Steve.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Steve silently cups Eddie’s cheek; to his surprise, Eddie leans into the touch and closes his eyes. Steve’s pulse picks up treacherously; he dares to brush a thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone, and the man just sighs, breath hot and damp against Steve’s wrist.  

“The last co-pilot I got close to, I got killed,” Eddie whispers miserably. When he opens his eyes again, tears roll down his face. Steve’s heart nearly breaks; it feels worse, so much worse than when Eddie rejected him last night. 

“That wasn’t your fault, Eddie.”

“Yes, it was. We were super banged up,” Eddie keeps talking, his voice agitated and hiccupy, tears now streaming freely down his face. “There was a一a crack in our windshield. I should’ve made the call to fall back, wait for backup一”

“The Majū could have headed inland in the meantime,” Steve interrupts to assure him. “Thousands of people could have died. You knew that, and you made the decision that felt right at the time.”

Eddie huffs and falls silent, just watching Steve’s face for a moment. His gaze darts between Steve’s eyes, and then, just for a second, down to his lips. Hope flares up in Steve’s chest, and he kind of hates himself for it; this is so, so not the right moment to be thinking about this, but it’s so damn hard when Eddie’s just a breath away; Steve can smell him, can hear his breathing, is drowning in those huge wet eyes. 

But then Eddie surprises him by placing his own hand on Steve’s cheek. Steve’s breath hitches; he doesn’t dare move an inch as Eddie speaks. 

“I’m so sorry about last night, Stevie.” It’s not the first time Eddie’s called him that, but it’s the first time that doesn’t sound like a joke. It’s soft and affectionate, and wraps around Steve’s heart like a warm blanket. “I’m just… I’m terrified. Terrified that if I let myself get too close, and something happens… if I let myself fall for you,” he says, and Steve gasps quietly, “if you get hurt, I know it will completely break me. And I can’t be terrified when we’re going out there. I need to be focused, so I can keep you safe. I can’t be worrying all the time, about what would happen if I can’t.” 

Steve wants to kiss him so badly. But he won’t repeat the same mistake, not without asking this time. 

“But you already are. Worrying, I mean,” Steve clarifies, although his stupid heart is fluttering; so, so hopeful the falling for him part is also true. 

He uses his thumb to gently wipe at the wetness under Eddie’s eyes. 

“I don’t know about you, Eddie, but I already care about you. Whether you push me away or not. I can’t imagine what I’d feel like if anything happened to you. We’re already close, you’re my friend, and my co-pilot. You’re literally the other half of me when we drift. I know so much of your life, it’s like I’ve lived it myself.” He reaches for Eddie’s hand and squeezes it with a small smile. “And I like you. I really, really like you, I think you’re amazing, Eddie. You’re smart, and tough, and kind. I like your silly jokes, I even like it when you poke fun at me. I like how you’re passionate about so many things. I like your smile, and… fuck, you’re even pretty when you cry.” 

Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are as flushed as Steve’s feel by the end of his speech, and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Steve,” he replies, sniffing and wiping at his face with the collar of his shirt. 

“Oh yeah?” Steve dares to flirt a little, feeling the shift in the atmosphere, like his words have finally pierced through Eddie’s gloom. He moves his hands to rest loosely on Eddie’s hips. “Cos I’ve got more where that came from. I haven’t even talked about how you shred the guitar like some kind of sexy madman.”

That gets Eddie to chuckle, shaking his head bashfully. 

“Yeah, I remember the effect that had on you… big boy.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn in his cheeks; he walked right into that one, alright. But it’s absolutely worth it for Eddie’s face to be looking considerably less miserable, that trademark spark of mischief in his eyes once more. And then Eddie’s gaze drops to his lips; not even a glance, completely unsubtle. 

“Can I kiss you?” Steve blurts out, so sure that the answer will be yes that he starts leaning in before Eddie replies; his heart sinks immediately as Eddie hangs his head quickly, leaning back a little. 

“Fuck. Sorry, I really, really wanna, believe me, I just…” Eddie looks up and winces through a smile. “I already kinda ruined our first kiss, do you mind if the second one happens when I’m not all gross and covered in snot?”

Steve laughs, relieved; he wants to tell Eddie he doesn’t care, that he’ll happily make out with him through the tears and the snot, but decides against it. Instead, he just leans in for a quick peck on the man’s still damp cheek, then pulls him into a tight hug, relishing the way Eddie melts into him, tucks his face in Steve’s shoulder and sighs. They stay like that for a minute, until Steve realizes his eyelids are growing heavy, exhaustion finally winning over tonight’s emotional turmoil. 

“Let’s get back to bed, yeah?” He suggests sleepily, pulling back from the embrace. For a moment, he’s confused about the way Eddie’s face falls; maybe he imagined it, even, because Eddie quickly puts on a smile.

“Uh… Yeah, sure. Good idea. We both need some rest.” Eddie takes a step back towards the door. “Goodnight, Stevie.” 

“What? Wait,” Steve reaches out to catch Eddie’s hand. “Where are you going?”

“Oh…” Eddie looks down at their joined hands uncertainly. “You want me to stay?” 

“Of course I want you to stay, dummy,” Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly and tugs on Eddie’s arm, stepping in the direction of his bed. “Come on.”

“You sure?” Eddie chews on his lip. “I’m just… not exactly a sound sleeper, you know. I don’t want to ruin your sleep, too, in case I… start tossing around, or wake up screaming, or something.” He follows Steve, though, and takes a seat at the edge of the bed as Steve rolls towards the wall, making space for him. 

“If that happens, I’d rather help you through it than have you deal with it alone, Eddie,” Steve replies honestly, gesturing for the lights to dim. 

He can barely see Eddie’s face now, so he’s not sure what the other man is thinking, but after a moment, Eddie moves to lie down next to him. Smiling to himself, Steve reaches towards the foot of the bed to throw the blanket over the both of them. 

The bed isn’t exactly built to fit two grown men, but Steve doesn’t exactly find it to be a fault; there’s barely any space between them under the covers, knees bumping together as they lie facing each other. It’s warm, and comfortable, and absolutely perfect. Even better when he casually slides an arm around Eddie’s waist and feels the man’s body shift closer, a puff of breath against Steve’s neck as Eddie sighs quietly. 

Steve drifts off before he even realizes his eyes are closed.

🤖🤖🤖

Morning alarms never were Steve’s favorite part of the day, to put it mildly. 

This morning, however, is a bit different. Because there’s a warm firmness pressed into his back, and an arm wrapped tight around his waist; not to mention an unmistakably distinct part of a man’s body poking at his right buttcheek. Eddie’s body. Steve immediately feels his own half-chub give a very interested twitch; it takes all of his (very weak in the first place and sleepy on top of that) willpower to keep still and not roll his hips back. 

In the next instant though, the body behind him groans and shifts back a little, much to Steve’s disappointment. Then, a curtain of messy hair falls on Steve’s cheek, and Eddie’s sleepy face looms over him, glaring at his beeping wristband.

“Five-thirty? What the hell, Steve,” he grumbles. 

Steve chuckles, although there’s no humor behind that.

“Set it for earlier. You know, in case there’s another… emergency meeting. I wanted to be able to at least have a coffee before that. We still don’t know what’s going on, if there’ll be a repeat of… well… whatever the fuck it was, yesterday.”

Eddie purses his lips and nods gravely, then rolls onto his back; Steve follows to be able to see him. Still blinking sleepily (adorable, Steve can’t help but think), Eddie uses his wristband to bring up the PPDC Majū tracking system on the wallscreen.

Nothing. Not a single red dot on the map.

“No fucking way,” Eddie murmurs, frowning. “Is this a glitch?” 

He clicks to refresh the screen. No change. 

“Isn’t this… good news?” Steve asks hopefully, although he already knows the answer before Eddie even replies.

“I don’t like this. It’s too damn quiet out there, Steve. Not a single one of these things, even on the Western rim? It’s like…”

“They’re gathering strength.” 

Eddie nods. 

“Or regrouping, rethinking strategy, or something. Not the Majū, obviously. Whoever or whatever is controlling these things.”

A heavy silence falls. But the gravity of reality doesn’t linger for Steve; it’s honestly hard to focus on the potential doom waiting for them beyond this room when the man he’s fallen for is right here, inches away, in Steve’s bed. When he’s so, so damn pretty with his messy nest of curls sprawled all across the pillow, his sleep-hooded eyes and a clearly well-loved Metallica T-shirt, so stretched out his collarbones peek out of it.  

Eddie glances at him out of the corner of his eye; Steve realizes he’s been openly staring, but holds Eddie’s gaze. Eddie raises his brows. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Steve chuckles.

“Why pay for them when you have free unrestricted daily access?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the joke gets him to visibly brighten up. 

“Yeah, but we’re not drifting right now. And you look like… I don’t know. Like you’re not worried about what this all means. Yesterday’s attack, the eerie quiet today.”

Steve sighs.

“Look, I know it’s all kinda ominous, I just… can’t bring myself to be scared in advance, you know? I think we should bring our concerns to Cap, but knowing him, he’s way ahead of us on this. Beyond that…” Steve shrugs. “I don’t wanna be afraid all the time, Eddie. Not when there’s so many better things to feel right now.”

Eddie rolls to his side, his eyes on Steve, full of attention. 

“Like what?”

Steve smiles at him.

“Like glad I’m alive. Content that I’m doing what’s important, protecting people. Thankful all my friends are okay.” He shifts a little closer, throwing an arm around Eddie’s waist under the blanket and rubbing his hand up and down the man’s back briefly. “Like happy you’re here.”

Eddie bites his lip, failing to conceal the obviously joyful grin spreading across his face.

“You’re quite the philosopher, Steve Harrington,” he teases, but then his smile softens. “But I see your point.” He places his hand on top of Steve’s arm, moves it up to his shoulder. Steve shivers, his whole body buzzing in anticipation.

He takes a peek at his wristband. Still about twenty minutes before they need to get up and head to breakfast. When he meets Eddie’s eyes again, he knows without any Drift that Eddie’s thinking the same thing. 

Steve brings a hand up to Eddie’s face, traces the edges of a burn scar there. Beautiful, like the rest of this brave, kind, wonderful man. He glances at Eddie’s lips, and they part under his gaze with a silent gasp. 

“So, um…” Steve looks back at Eddie’s eyes, pauses to chew on his lip. “In terms of possibly ruining a kiss, where does morning breath fall for you?”

Eddie laughs silently, then turns his head to loudly snort into the pillow.

“Oh, I’d say miles better than snot and tears. If there was no alcohol involved the night before? Like, a three on a ten-point scale, maybe.”

Steve grins, shifting his head so close their noses almost brush. 

“I’m fine with those odds if you are.”

In lieu of a response, Eddie shuts his eyes and closes the final few inches of distance between their lips. 

The kiss definitely doesn’t feel ruined, in Steve’s opinion. Not by a long shot. Because it’s enough that Eddie never pulls away; in fact, he keeps getting closer and closer, body pressed flush against Steve’s front by the time Steve sneaks a tongue between his parted lips. He lets out a soft groan that reverberates through Steve’s chest, down his stomach, straight to his dick. 

Steve’s never gotten this turned on this fast. Not since he was a perpetually horny teenager, at least. It kind of makes sense, it’s been a while since he was this close to anyone, but it’s also more than that.

For some reason, Steve’s completely certain that’s because it’s Eddie. He can’t explain it, but it’s kind of like the first time he drifted with Eddie, when it felt like their brains were meant to be two halves of the same mind. That’s how his body feels right now. Like it’s meant for touching Eddie’s, kissing Eddie, loving Eddie. Like he’d be totally happy if they spontaneously fused together into a giant blob of flesh and buzzing nerve endings. He feels a little insane just for thinking that.

With a groan of his own, Steve pulls Eddie even closer, burying a hand in his unruly curls, slides a thigh between Eddie’s legs and is happy to find him just as affected; or maybe he never really softened after Steve felt him against his back when they’d just woken up. Fuck, he thinks; next time, he’s going to keep Eddie right where he was and let him grind against his ass until he comes. The thought alone makes another wave of heat rush through Steve’s body, actually makes him tremble. 

For all his giant crush on the man, he’s never let himself fantasize about anything; it was enough that his dreams could come up in a Drift. And now, it’s like the floodgates keeping everything at bay were opened.  

There’s a tiny, rational thought in the back of his mind that maybe they’re going too fast; but it’s immediately shut down by another, almost shouting. No. They should have been doing this for weeks. 

And Eddie doesn’t seem to be protesting, anyway. When Steve rolls his hips so he can rub his thigh against Eddie’s hardness, Eddie whines his name quietly into his mouth, but makes no attempt to stop him. And when Steve does it again, he moans, then starts rolling onto his back and pulling Steve with him.

Fully pressing Eddie’s body into the mattress feels like actual horny heaven, even if Steve wishes there were less clothes involved. But that should probably be reserved for another occasion.

It’s like Eddie reads his mind, because he breaks the kiss momentarily to glance at his wristband. 5:48. 

“Fuck, Steve, we…  we don’t have much time…”

“Well, do you need much time?” Steve grins down at him, admiring his flushed cheeks. One of the many details he really tried not to think about whenever he spent time with Eddie at the gym. 

He adjusts his hips and grinds down, a jolt of pleasure shooting up his spine at the blissful, much needed friction. Steve drops his forehead down to the pillow and repeats the motion, slowly setting up a pace.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps right in Eddie’s ear. “I don’t know about you… but I’m definitely okay with the time we have. Way less than that, in fact…”

Steve feels, more than hears, Eddie laugh, his body shaking a little underneath him.

“Damn, Stevie… Great point. Oh, oh shit that’s fucking good…”

A moment later, Eddie’s reduced to mostly incoherent sounds, right after Steve discovers just how sensitive his ears and neck are when you put your mouth on them. Steve’s own noises aren’t exactly dignified, especially when Eddie’s hands find their way to his ass, squeezing and pulling him down to grind harder and faster. 

Steve’s actually impressed he manages to hold his orgasm when Eddie’s fingers slip between his cheeks, barely a tease of pressure through his pajama pants, but enough to flood Steve’s mind with possibilities. Something he’s never actually done with a guy before, but not for a lack of wanting. And with Eddie, that want instantly transforms into a need. 

He pushes back against Eddie’s fingers, frustrated beyond himself that it’s not skin-to-skin. 

“This better be a promise for next time, or I’ll lose my damn mind,” he growls in Eddie’s ear, too delirious to care about how filthy and desperate that sounds. 

Apparently, that’s the last straw for Eddie, who stills underneath him with a broken moan muffled by Steve’s shoulder. Steve doesn’t even have the chance to feel smug about it, though, following right through in an explosion of pleasure, from his lower body all the way to his toes.

He all but collapses on top of Eddie, who doesn’t seem to mind one bit, wrapping his arms around Steve’s back and holding him while they both try to remember how to breathe normally. 

“Hoooolyyyy shiiiiiit,” Eddie finally says, all drawn out and amazed, and Steve laughs, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at him. 

Oh, what a sight it is to behold. Eddie’s positively radiant. 

“I know, right?” Steve grins and kisses the man, who melts into it for a moment, but then pushes at his chest with determination.

“Shit.” Eddie sighs dramatically and glances at the time. He looks at Steve, eyes so soft and pushing the fringe out of Steve’s forehead so gently it melts Steve’s insides. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give to stay like this, but both of us definitely need a shower before breakfast.”

Steve laughs, rolling off of him and sitting up. 

“Well then, you better get back to yours. I really don’t trust myself with you naked and wet in my shower.”

Eddie groans, throwing his arm across his face in a failed attempt to hide his blush. Then, with full determination, he basically performs a kick-up from the bed to the floor, and rushes to the door. He pauses there, his hand on the handle, and glances back at Steve.

“Steve, that was… You’re…” Eddie trails off and shakes his head. “Fuck, sweetheart. I have so many things to say. No time.”

Sweetheart? Oh, Steve could get used to this. He’s absolutely swooning and not ashamed to admit it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies with a smile. “I’ll know it when we drift today.”

Chapter Text

Eddie’s own 6am alarm beeps just as he reaches his room. Despite being really, really short on time (and uncomfortably sticky in his pants), he allows himself a short moment to just lean back against the door and grin like a lunatic. 

Because holy shit, was that intense. It’s been a long while since Eddie was intimate with someone he had real feelings for, wanted to be close to in every possible way, and even then, he doesn’t remember it being so… wild. They literally humped each other like horny teenagers and it didn’t feel one bit weird. It was absolutely wholesome; Eddie wouldn’t change a thing. 

That’s not to say he doesn’t want to get Steve gloriously naked, hopefully in the nearest future, because oh boy, he absolutely does. Still, just being close to Steve, it felt fucking perfect. The silly word soulmates comes to mind, making Eddie giggle. He shakes his head at himself and pushes off the door, heading for the tiny bathroom in the corner for a quick shower.

He feels pretty stupid, for how long he managed to fool himself into thinking he could keep his feelings in check. That he could just indefinitely keep spending time with Steve, drifting with him, training with him, watching movies together, and not think about kissing him every waking moment. Thinking about kissing Steve, and actually kissing Steve, are things that now feel rather silly to deny himself. 

Sure, it might just be the happy hormones in the brain screwing with him. He did have a very valid, rational reason to not fall for Steve. Or did he? Suddenly, the idea of possibly losing Steve is… still scary, in theory, but it feels so… distant. Eddie’s insides no longer turn into pure ice when the thought occurs to him. 

As he showers, Eddie tries to remember last night’s dream, which felt so disturbingly vivid it actually fucked up his perception of reality, blurred the line between memory and imagination. In his frantic state, he just had to see Steve, to assure his brain that it was all nonsense, that Steve was alive and well. 

Now, in the light of day (metaphorical, since they don’t actually have windows), he only remembers bits and pieces of it; which, while absolutely terrifying, were obviously nothing but a product of his anxious mind. And they are all completely drowned out by other images in his mind. Wonderful ones. (Most of which he probably shouldn’t dwell on too much, if he wants to make it to breakfast without a boner in his newly equipped uniform pants.) 

Steve’s words keep ringing in his head. 

‘I don’t wanna be afraid all the time, Eddie.’

‘I can’t bring myself to be scared in advance.’

Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever stop mourning Chrissy. That memory, real and heartbreaking, still hurts even underneath all this newfound joy. But would it really be easier if he was preparing himself mentally for her death since the day they met? 

Chrissy would likely scold him for even asking such a question. He can almost hear her voice in his head.

‘We’re all gonna die one day, dummy. If that’s all you’re gonna think about, then what are you even living for? What are we fighting for?’

Eddie smiles sadly. 

“You would have absolutely loved him, Chris”, he says quietly to his empty room. 

That’s when he hears a knock on his door. Eddie reaches it in a couple of quick strides, heartbeat picking up instantly because he knows this knock by now. 

Sure enough, Steve’s right outside, smiling at him brightly, his hair still a little damp after shower. When Eddie steps outside, Steve takes a little bow and holds out his hand.

“May I escort you to breakfast?”

Eddie barely suppresses a giggle, quickly looks around to make sure they’re alone, then takes Steve’s hand and pulls on it, knocking him off balance and forcing him to take a few steps towards Eddie. Inches away from Eddie’s face, just perfect. 

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” Eddie says, grinning, then leans in, allowing himself an exactly one second long peck on Steve’s lips. Any longer, and they probably wouldn’t make it to breakfast at all. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”

He spins around quickly to shut his door and starts walking down the corridor, immensely satisfied with the awed expression he managed to leave on Steve’s face, and the fact that the guy took a couple of seconds to move from his spot and catch up with Eddie in a jog. 

“How come it’s always six?” Eddie asks once Steve’s beside him. 

“Huh?” Steve glances at him.

“You always knock six times.”

“Oh.” Steve looks ahead again. “It’s… kind of a silly habit.”

“You can either tell me or I’ll dig it out of your brain later,” Eddie grins, bumping his shoulder into Steve’s. Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

“Fine. It spells ‘hi’ in Morse code,” he replies, grinning sheepishly.

Eddie blinks. Now that he thinks about it, it’s also always the same pattern, a subtle pause before the last two knocks.

“Why the fuck do you know Morse code?”

“So you know how whenever I slept over at Robin’s place, her parents made me stay in the guest bedroom ‘cos they were absolutely convinced we were dating? So she came up with the idea that we could knock on the wall in Morse code to talk until we fell asleep. Like… You use your knuckles for dots and your palm for dashes, the sound’s different.”

“And you couldn’t just text or call each other like normal people because..?” Eddie raises his eyebrows.

Steve shrugs.

“Where’d be the fun in that? We still do this sometimes, by the way.”

Eddie moves to stop in front of Steve, nearly making them collide, and gapes at him for a moment, completely amazed.

“Holy shit, you’re a nerd. I mean, I’ve had my suspicious, but… wow.”

Steve laughs.

“Says the guy who learned to speak Elvish.”

“It’s called Quenya. And I’m a self-proclaimed nerd, you can’t use this against me,” Eddie grins, spins around and keeps walking.  

“Hey, at least Morse code is actually useful!” Steve protests, following him. 

“For what? You plan on getting stranded on a boat at sea?” Eddie teases. 

To anyone who passes by, it might look like their usual playful banter, as if nothing has changed between them; except when they find themselves alone on a staircase, and Steve hooks his finger around Eddie’s pinkie for just a moment. It’s so unbearably cute Eddie can’t stop grinning the short rest of the way to the cafeteria.

Eddie’s glad that he and Steve seemed to be in agreement to keep acting like friends in public, at least for the time being. Not that anyone would care otherwise; extreme PDA isn’t exactly allowed, but some co-pilots who were couples would occasionally hold hands in the corridors or give each other a good luck kiss before missions. But for him and Steve, this is all very new, and they barely had a chance to talk to each other.

Eddie does, however, secretly hook his foot around Steve’s ankle underneath the table, and sees him smile at that, even if he keeps looking at his plate. 

🤖🤖🤖

After the briefing (very regular and with no unusual announcements), him and Steve both approach Hopper to share their concerns about the sudden quiet at the Gate following yesterday’s attack. Hopper listens to them attentively, but assures them that he’s aware, and that there’s nothing unusual about it; there have been other days when the Gate would be completely inactive for a whole 24-hour span. Which neither of them can really argue against; but the moment Hopper leaves the room, Eddie takes one look at look at Steve and knows that Steve, just like him, did not buy this.

Eddie recalls how Nancy suspected that Hopper was keeping things from them; it feels even more convincing now, even if they don’t have proof. However, they both agree that there’s no point in worrying their friends over what might just be nothing, and head for the sim room for some training. 

Now this part… this is definitely something Eddie has been looking forward to, and not for nothing. The wave of pure joy and warmth and affection that hits him the moment they initiate the Drift leaves him absolutely stunned for a moment.

Eddie glances over at Steve, who’s smiling at him shyly, then his cheeks turn visibly pink as other things come through, desire and heat, fragments of this morning’s memories… Eddie bites back a grin, closes his eyes and tries to stay focused.

It’s kind of a miracle they don’t destabilize. He knows Steve’s also having a hard time focusing; Eddie’s not exactly holding anything back, either. And despite knowing how Steve feels about him, it’s still flattering that he can have that effect on the other man.  

Neural handshake complete.

‘Ready to kick some virtual monster ass, sweetheart?’  Instant jolt of delight at the word. Eddie grins at Steve. ‘Baby? Darling? Cutie pie?’

Steve’s cheeks are redder than this morning’s watermelon smoothie. 

‘That last one might be a bit too much.’ He’s lying, and Eddie knows it, and Steve knows that he knows it, so Eddie just leaves it at that. 

Damn, he’s gonna kiss this cutie pie of a man the moment they’re off duty tonight. And not just a small peck, and not just on the lips... 

‘Goddammit, Eddie!’

‘Sorry, sorry, can’t help it!’ Eddie chuckles. ‘Okay, let’s get to it.’

🤖🤖🤖

Worries about Hopper’s suspicious behavior aside, it’s a good day. Although it seems almost endless, and by the time they head to dinner in the evening, Eddie feels like an eternity has passed since this morning. It doesn’t help that throughout the day, Steve kept casting these heavy, heated glances at him, completely obvious even if Eddie didn’t literally know what Steve was thinking about. This made today’s gym session completely unbearable; halfway throughout it, Eddie had to excuse himself sheepishly saying that he needed to find another spot for today. Steve only laughed, his cheeks flushed, but didn’t take offense at that. 

It’s no wonder both of them basically inhale their food, not pausing to join any of the conversations happening at the table. 

“Where are you two off to in such a hurry?” Barb asks, glancing between Steve’s and Eddie’s nearly empty plates. 

Eddie grins around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. 

“Movie marathon,” he replies. “I’m introducing my uncultured friend here,” he points his fork at Steve, “to the masterpiece that is Star Wars.” 

Not even a lie, technically. Just definitely not on tonight’s agenda, specifically. Except maybe after… Yeah, okay, post-coital cuddling and Star Wars sounds great. After last night, he’s pretty sure Steve would be up for some cuddling. Damn, it would feel even better without clothes. Fuck, he really needs to stop this train of thought. 

“Oh cool, I I love those movies!” Jonathan chimes in. “Can I join?” 

Fuck. 

“Uh…” Eddie turns his gaze to Steve, whose expression looks just as dismayed as his own, probably. “I mean…”

The unexpected rescue comes from Argyle, who throws an arm around Jonathan’s shoulders.

“My dudes, apologies for my clueless buddy here. He did not mean to impose on your sacred co-pilot bonding time.”

Jonathan blinks at him, his eyebrows raised. Then, he glances again between Steve and Eddie, and something like realization dawns on his face.

“Oh. Right. Bonding time, of course, that’s… totally sacred.” He winks at them before turning away. 

Eddie feels his cheeks warm up. Even more so when Argyle mouths, ‘you’re welcome’ at him and grins. 

Well, at least he can have the satisfaction that his hunch about these two was right from the start. 

🤖🤖🤖

Finally, Eddie thinks as he shuts the door to his room behind the both of them. He spins around to find Steve already in his space, looking at him with a warm, slightly shy smile. 

“Hi,” he says in an exhale, reaching to place one hand on Eddie’s cheek, and the other on his hip. Eddie’s skin practically vibrates under his touch. 

“Hi yourself, cupcake,” Eddie replies, grinning at the instant flushed reaction from the other man. “Aren’t you a pretty picture. Pink is certainly your color, Stevie.” He runs a finger down Steve’s cheek. 

Steve sighs dramatically.

“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?”

“Well,” Eddie muses, bringing his arms up around Steve’s neck. “I think you’ll find that I’m very generous with my words for someone who deserves them. You’ll just have to get used to it… if you’re sure you wanna sign up for this, that is.”

Steve’s expression turns more serious. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with absolute sincerity in his voice, eyes firmly locked on Eddie’s. “One hundred percent. I wanna be with you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s heartbeat picks up the pace, a warm fluttering sensation spreading down his stomach, equal parts affection and desire. 

“In that case,” he says, stepping forward and forcing Steve to take a step back. He keeps walking them backwards until the back of Steve’s calves hit the edge of the bed, and smirks at him. “How about I make your dreams come true, baby?”

It takes a moment of processing on Steve’s part, and it’s not until Eddie pushes lightly, making him sit down on the mattress with Eddie standing between his knees, that understanding dawns on him. 

“Oh my god, you’re an absolute menace. Not that I’m complaining.”

Eddie laughs delightfully and sinks to his knees, relishing the audible inhale that gets him from Steve, the way the man sucks in his stomach and leans forward immediately, like Eddie’s a magnet he can’t help but be drawn to. He cups Eddie’s cheek and waits, watching him intently.

When Eddie leans forward, and their lips finally meet, he feels Steve smile against his lips briefly before completely melting against his mouth. Unlike this morning, Steve completely surrenders to Eddie taking charge, which Eddie finds absolutely terrific. He’s always enjoyed some versatility when it comes to bedroom dynamics, and if they’re a match this way, all the better. 

They break apart after a minute so they can both get rid of their uniform jackets and T-shirts. Eddie has to take a moment to admire the wonderful expanse of skin right in front of him, the thick hairs in the middle of Steve’s chest he can’t resist brushing his fingers through. Steve leans into the touch and reaches out for him in return. 

“Do they still hurt?” He asks quietly, running his fingers along the edge of a large burn scar on Eddie’s side. “Is it okay if I touch them?”

Eddie’s feelings towards the scars on his body are complicated, to say the least. Obviously, they’re a reminder of one of the most terrible days in his entire life. But from the moment the bandages came off, he made a decision that he’s not going to hide them, or be ashamed of them. The first time he looked at himself in the mirror, he was almost glad he got them. They made the guilt in his heart a tiny bit easier to bear. The scars were proof that he tried his best, at least, to save her. 

Eddie’s fully aware now how fucked up that was, feeling like he deserved the scars for his failure. He’s been thinking lately about covering the most gruesome couple of them with tattoos; for now, though, he’s just made peace with the fact that they are now part of him. 

He doesn’t feel like ruining the moment to explain all this to Steve now, though. Maybe one day. So he just smiles and shakes his head.

“Nah, they are fully healed now. My skin’s a bit numb there, but they don’t hurt. Touch all you want.”

Steve immediately takes full advantage of the permission given, hands roaming all over Eddie’s torso. Eddie, on his part, gives in to the temptation of putting his mouth on Steve’s skin, kissing along the jut of his collarbones, down his chest, the hairs there tickling his chin pleasantly. 

When he closes his lips around a nipple, Steve moans and buries his hand in Eddie’s hair. Eddie revels in anticipation of how much fun he’s going to have with Steve being so sensitive. 

And so he takes his time, playing with Steve and enjoying the way the man comes undone beneath his mouth and hands, alternating between toying with each nipple and sucking on the base of Steve’s neck. When Steve’s noises start to turn into desperate pleas, he moves his hand to cup the man between his legs, grinning when Steve bucks his hips and practically starts grinding into his palm. 

“Someone’s eager,” Eddie chuckles, raising his head so he can kiss Steve again. 

“Mmm, no shit,” Steve laughs, sounding a little embarrassed, but mostly just horny and blissful. “Are you just gonna tease me until I ruin my pants?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Definitely not, handsome. I’d much rather you ruin my mouth.”

“Oh my god,” Steve groans, pulling him in for another deep, downright filthy kiss. “Fuck. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Perfect,” Eddie replies with a devilish grin, then moves to unbutton and unzip Steve’s pants. 

Eddie knows Steve is watching, eyes wide and breathing hard, as he pulls out his cock and strokes it a few times, his mouth watering immediately. Damn, it’s been a while. Call him shallow, a slut, whatever, sucking dick is just pure fun. Especially when there’s… so much of it.

“Big boy indeed,” he murmurs to himself, and closes his lips around the tip before Steve can come up with a clever comeback. 

For the next couple of hours, Eddie lets himself put everything that’s beyond the walls of this room into a locked box in the back of his mind and throw away the key. He loses himself in Steve, the wonderful melody of sounds he makes when slowly brought to a climax, the taste and feel of his skin, the eager hands and mouth determined to drown Eddie in pleasure. 

Neither of them lasts very long the first time; just like this morning, except at least they manage to mostly get rid of their clothes. Steve spills in his mouth with a broken moan within mere minutes; and Eddie, already rock hard from the smell and taste of him, follows soon after with Steve’s firm strokes and unexpectedly filthy encouragements whispered in his ear. 

After that, they take their time, sharing a cigarette and trading lazy kisses and touches until the satedness in their bodies is washed away by another wave of growing arousal. Eventually, Eddie flips Steve over and drapes himself across his back, teasing him with kisses and gentle nibbles to his freckled skin. He knows exactly what Steve wants; Steve’s not making it very subtle, shamelessly lifting his ass and pressing it into Eddie’s crotch repeatedly.

Steve opens up to him easily, despite admitting with a most adorable blush that it’s been a while since he’s been with another man; still, Eddie keeps fingering him until Steve’s begging takes a turn to half-hearted threats.

“Fucking hell, Eddie… if you don’t get on with it, oh fuck, I swear I’m gonna break your fucking guitar.”

Eddie cackles at that, bending over Steve’s body to lick a stripe from his neck up to his ear.

“You sure you’re in any condition to do that right now, Stevie?” He teases, pressing all three fingers into the man’s prostate, upon which Steve lets out a long whine barely muffled by the pillow. 

Eddie’s not at all surprised when Steve retaliates when he’s finally inside him, destroying Eddie’s entire plan to fuck him slow and sweet by randomly squeezing around his dick and making little circles with his butt that not only look but also feel absolutely sinful. He hoists Steve up by his hips and starts fucking him in earnest, which, judging by the noises he makes, is exactly what Steve’s been trying to achieve. 

Eddie laughs silently, pulling Steve further up so he can kneel and fully press his back against Eddie’s chest. Wrapping his hand around Steve’s dick, Eddie already fantasizes about next time. He’s definitely going to make Steve ride him. That would be one hell of a sight to behold.

🤖🤖🤖

A while later, Eddie actually puts on The Phantom Menace, running it from the beginning, since last time they barely made it through the first twenty minutes of it. He doesn’t expect Steve to pay much attention to it though, because he isn’t either; it’s just nice to leave it playing in the background while he’s basking in the sated bliss of two absolutely fantastic orgasms. 

It’s comfortable and peaceful, lying there in Steve’s arms, feeling the man’s fingers casually caress his skin in various places; both of them too exhausted to start anything again, yet unable to keep their hands to themselves. Steve occasionally shuts his eyes, like he’s ready to drift off, but then rapidly blinks them open. 

“We can go to sleep if you want,” Eddie says quietly, cupping Steve’s cheek and rubbing a thumb alongside it. “You can stay the night… obviously.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling at him softly.

“Don’t wanna.” He notices Eddie frown and hurries to clarify. “Don’t wanna go to sleep. If I close my eyes, then it’s suddenly tomorrow, and we gotta get up and deal with… whatever tomorrow brings.” He sighs, throwing a leg across Eddie’s thigh and burrowing closer into his embrace. “I wish we could just… stay like this, you know.” 

Eddie chuckles, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest. He knows exactly what Steve means, the echo of the same feeling resonating within him. The peacefulness of the moment overshadowed by the usual unease, ever present in the back of his mind. Every Ranger’s mind, most likely.

“Can’t be humanity’s heroes if we’re sleep deprived, Stevie,” he says though, trying his damndest to hold on to this rare serenity. 

“Yeah, I know.” Steve yawns and nuzzles against his chin. “Just a while longer. Don’t let me fall asleep, at least until the movie ends, okay?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Eddie doesn’t have the heart to keep his promise when Steve starts softly snoring against his chest. He simply pauses the movie, turns off the screen and the lights, and shuts his eyes.

He dreams of Chrissy, but for the first time in a long time, it’s not a nightmare. It’s things that never happened, the two of them speeding down a highway in a convertible, laughing and singing along to songs on the radio; and suddenly, Steve’s there too, in the backseat, leaning forward between their seats to join in the chorus and grinning at Eddie.  

It’s the best sleep Eddie’s had in a while. 

Chapter Text

Steve never expected this little bit of peace they got to last very long. Sure enough, the Gate activity resumes on the next day, and four Majū head for LA simultaneously. Thankfully, all of them are category 3, so it wouldn’t be the most difficult of tasks to handle. But what about tomorrow and every day after that?

The current record of how many Majū of a category 3 plus appeared through the Gate in a day so far has been 21, just two years ago; and they were spread out across all directions. If an attack of this scale targets one base in particular… even Hong Kong, with its impressive army of 16 Jaegers, wouldn’t hold out against something like that; and LA currently runs on 7 teams. With some of the Cadets showing great promise, they might be able to increase those numbers soon, but it might still not be enough in a worst-case scenario. 

The weird thing is that Captain Hopper does not look all that concerned at this morning’s briefing. He seems to be in good spirits, in fact, sounds almost excited when he picks the teams for today’s defense. Setting the time for everyone to be ready at the docks to 2 pm, Hopper mentions that they will be receiving special orders on deployment and that they are to follow them to the letter.

As usual, the Rangers all try to keep each other in good spirits for the rest of the morning; yet the general atmosphere of worry and uncertainty grows heavier as the hours tick by. 

Everyone ends up inside their Jaegers at least half an hour early, running extra systems checks and strategizing for battle. The latter, as it turns out, was a complete waste of time, they all realize when Captain Hopper’s voice comes in through the comms. 

“Rangers, this is your Captain speaking. Your orders are to remain within five hundred feet of the base. Stay vigilant and ready for a fight, but do not engage with the Majū unless they become a direct threat to the base. I repeat: do not engage until they approach you.” 

“Respectfully, Captain, but what the hell?” Nancy’s voice asks, right on the edge of politeness and indignation. “What if they head for the city?”  

“We have every reason to believe they won’t,” Hopper replies calmly. 

“Who’s we… sir?” Nancy presses on.

“Doctor Owens and I.”

‘Who the hell is doctor Owens?’ Eddie asks through their Drift connection. 

‘Head of research. Although nobody really knows exactly what he’s researching, it’s all top secret. I’ve only ever seen him talk to Hopper or Murray Bauman, Robin’s boss.’ Steve projects the memory of the man’s face for Eddie to see. ‘I’d seen the guy before I joined the Corps, though. He had several meetings with my dad when I worked at HTC. I don’t know what they talked about, but it’s safe to assume Owens’ research has something to do with the Drift tech, at least partly.’

‘Fascinating’, Eddie’s sarcasm rings in his head. ‘Would love to know what that has to do with us giving the Majū an open invitation to wreck half of LA.’

Steve checks the map.

‘Well, maybe not. Their trajectories check out. They are all still heading… right for us.’

Eddie looks at him, his eyebrows raised.

‘Oh yeah, that’s certainly comforting.’

‘It’s just a bunch of Basilisks, Eds. Slow and dumb as fuck. We can kick their butts, no problem.’

‘Love your undying optimism, baby.’

Steve smiles, feeling the warmth accompanying Eddie’s words wash over him. But he forces himself to focus again. This is not the time for distractions… as tempting as they are, especially after last night. His cheeks still tingle from heat at the memory of it. (And not just his cheeks… even though Eddie was incredibly, frustratingly gentle.)

They watch the ripples in the ocean surface, right as the system alerts them of a one mile distance to the targets. And then, the creatures emerge out of the waves, waterfalls cascading down their spiky bodies and out of their open mouths as they let out a series of loud growls, shake the water off like a bunch of ugly oversized dogs, and launch themselves forward. 

Hopper’s predictions turn out to be true. The creatures head straight for the base. 

It’s extremely counterintuitive, to just watch the distance between themselves and the beasts get shorter by the second; but everyone stays put as ordered. Eddie fires up Hellfire Guardian’s cannon while Steve draws their blade. Looking to the right, he sees Wicked Striker move into a battle stance; Nancy and Barb are getting ready as well.

But then, something unexpected happens. All four of the Majū suddenly begin to slow down, and after a moment, they come to a halt, only a hundred or so feet away from their welcome party of Jaegers. 

“What are they doing?” Barb asks what they are all probably thinking.

“No idea,” Eddie mumbles in reply. “But I don’t like this. They are just… standing there. It’s fucking creepy.”

Almost as if the creatures heard him, they start to move again. Except they start to turn around. And then… then they begin walking back towards the water, slowly and in perfect sync. 

Steve looks over at Eddie, whose eyes are as wide as his own. 

“Okay, scratch my previous statement,” Eddie says. “I really like this, but… what the fuck?”

“Are you guys seeing what we’re seeing?” Nancy’s voice comes in. “They are just… leaving?!”

Steve watches in amazement as the Majū in their field of vision slowly become smaller and smaller, and then they slowly submerge underwater and disappear from view. He glances at the map; the red tracking dots begin to move away from shore, in the direction of where the Majū came from. 

Back towards the Gate.

That’s when Hopper's voice comes in through the comms again; Steve’s never heard Captain sound like that. Positively triumphant. 

“Return to base, Rangers. I believe you have a lot of questions… it’s time I answer them. Also, I’d like you to meet someone. Someone who might just change everything for us in this fight.”

🤖🤖🤖

The briefing room is absolutely buzzing by the time they make it back. In addition to all the Rangers, the room is packed full of faces of other department members. Steve spots Robin waving at him as she steps away from a bunch of her colleagues, and he gestures at Eddie with a nod before making his way towards her. 

“Hey Robs. Any clue what the hell is going on?”

She shakes her head, leaning towards them to speak over all the chatter in the room.

“Not really. I mean… I’ve heard rumors. Honestly, I thought that’s all they were. Gossip about some secret weapon the PPDC was developing. It was all bordering on sci-fi in my opinion, but after what we saw on the screens today…”

“Huh. So is this what they’ve been doing downstairs this whole time?” 

“Downstairs?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

“The restricted level”, Steve clarifies. “It’s off limits to all personnel, except for the research folks, other department heads, and Hopper… I think.”

 Eddie wolf-whistles. 

“I wondered about that when I looked at the layout of the base. Figured it was just a bunch of maintenance rooms. You’re telling me it’s an actual secret lab down there?” 

“It’s more than that,” Robin says. “Apparently, they have their own living quarters, own facilities… Basically everything to ensure they don’t interact much with the rest of the base. All I know is,” she looks around quickly and lowers her voice, “apparently some of the Majū brains the bio guys extract for studying go directly downstairs.”

“Wonderful,” Eddie deadpans. “I just hope they aren’t doing some bullshit like… I don’t know, growing their own Majū from that DNA. Do the Majū even have DNA? Anyway, I’d hate for this to become a potential Thing situation.” 

“What thing situation?” Steve frowns. 

Eddie sighs dramatically, although there’s a fond smile on his lips when he throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders. 

“Sweetheart, when we’re done with Star Wars, it’s horror classics for you next.”

“Oh, my apologies,” Steve replies sarcastically and narrows his eyes. “Am I too uncultured for you?”

“Nah.” Eddie’s face softens. “You’re perfect for me.”

Ducking his head with a goofy grin, Steve notices Robin raise an eyebrow, then slowly shift her gaze from him to Eddie and back, an unspoken question in her eyes. 

Oh, right. He hasn’t told her yet. The last thing she knew of was Eddie rejecting him just a few nights ago. (Was it really that recent? Hard to believe.) 

Steve gives her a reassuring smile and nods, and her face brightens up. She squeezes his hand briefly before turning away from them. Steve knows she’s going to have a million questions for him later, but for now, the non-verbal message is clear. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

Just then, the chatter begins to die down abruptly, like a quick wave starting from the door and rippling through the room. When Steve turns around, he sees Captain Hopper walk in, followed by Doctor Samuel Owens and a few more people, presumably from the research team.

One of them immediately catches Steve’s eye. She stands out from the rest; petite and incredibly young-looking, perhaps barely above 18, just like the Cadet kids. Instead of a lab coat, she’s clad in what looks like the standard Ranger uniform, except in a white color. 

“Just a moment, ladies and gents,” Hopper announces, heading for the console and pushing a few buttons. 

The giant wallscreen lights up with multiple camera streams, showing rooms full of people similar to their own. Sydney, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Vladivostok, Anchorage, Lima. And another, with just several people gathered at a table. The PPDC strategic command headed by the Corps Marshal; location unknown, for security reasons.  

Steve shares a wide-eyed look with Eddie. Whatever’s going on, it’s bigger than they expected. 

“Right. Everyone hear me okay?” Hopper waits for the confirmation from every screen, then turns to face the room. “I’ll get straight to the point and give the floor to Doctor Owens, who is about to give you some information that’s been cleared to share with all PPDC personnel as of today.”

The doctor steps forward and gives a curtly nod to the audience before he starts to speak. 

“Thank you, Captain. I’d like to share with you all the crucial results our team has achieved over the past several years. But first, a bit of background, since I’m aware that the work of our department has been somewhat of a mystery. It is my and the general command’s belief that it is time to lift that veil of secrecy.

“We have been focusing on studying human brainwaves as they interact with the Drift. For that, on occasion, successful applicants for the Cadet program have been offered to work for our department. We only selected those whose natural aptitude for drifting exceeds all expectations. Our goal was to study what made their brains so exceptional and perhaps, one day, to unlock the ultimate potential of the human brain, and make it possible to withstand the neural load of a Jaeger by a single pilot. Remove the need for two compatible pilots to operate one, make the selection and training process significantly more effective.”

A wave of astonished murmurs ripples through the crowd of gathered Rangers. Was that even possible? So far, the few cases when a single person attempted to operate a Jaeger resulted in severe brain damage. 

Not only that, but the mere idea sounded almost like a blasphemy. You’re not supposed to be facing those beasts alone. Your co-pilot is your partner, your rock, your brother or sister in arms. Steve tries to imagine going out there without Eddie’s presence in his mind… and just thinking about it feels borderline terrifying. Eddie must be thinking something similar because Steve feels a hand reach for his own and squeeze his fingers. He squeezes back. 

Doctor Owens raises a hand to quiet the room down and then waves it away. 

“Not important right now; that part of the research was a dead end. What’s important is the part where we partnered up with our colleagues from the xenobiology team about a year ago.”

Steve and the rest of the Rangers listen, open-mouthed, to the rest of the doctor’s tale. Robin was right. It is so far beyond common scientific knowledge that it’s almost unbelievable. 

For years, xenobiologists and simple enthusiasts from all over the world have been studying Majū behavior patterns. There are whole forums and websites dedicated to it, and among others, one theory has been gaining more and more supporters. That the attacks aren’t random. That the Majū aren’t just mindlessly making their way through the portal as they stumble upon it, and then heading for largest human agglomerations on shore based on some fucked-up instinct to destroy and kill. That there is someone, or something, controlling them all.

From a wild conspiracy theory, the idea turned into an almost universally accepted truth when probes were first sent through the Gate. The cameras showed a disturbingly creepy world that seemed to mirror their own, but perpetually dark, covered in thick black vines, and inhabited by the demonic creatures. Hell, is what anyone would think looking at this imagery; to avoid any kind of religious connotation, however, the place was named the Upside Down. The probe cameras never got much chance to capture footage of this strange world in detail. The Majū all charged to attack and destroy them as soon as they were spotted, as if someone was commanding them to do that. Someone much more intelligent than those beasts. 

But the research team at their base took it all a step further. They had proof now. And the way they got it is… certainly shocking.

“Hang on, let me get this straight,” Jonathan is the first to speak up when silence falls over the room. “You guys… Drifted with the Majū brains? And that’s how you found out who’s controlling them?”

“That’s fucking insane,” Eddie murmurs, only loud enough for Steve to hear.

“How does this even work?” Nancy enquires. “Do they even have… thoughts? Can you understand them?”

“I believe it would be best if you got the answer from the person who actually got to experience this on a regular basis,” Doctor Owens replies, then turns to look at the girl in the white uniform, who’s been standing behind him quietly until now. “Everyone, meet El. Our best and brightest drifter. El, would you do the honors?”

The girl steps forward and looks around the room, fiddling with her hands, visibly nervous. Her gaze carries the sort of intensity that doesn’t look right on someone her age. 

“Hello everyone,” she says with an awkward wave of a hand, but her face remains serious. “I will try my best to explain, even though it’s difficult. To answer your question,” she looks at Nancy, “yes, they do have thoughts, although it’s nothing like drifting with a human. They are not… individuals, per se. Their consciousness is only part of what Doctor Owens calls the hive mind.”

Doctor Owens nods.

“The way it works, we’ve determined, is if you drift with one of them, you drift with them all. For them, it is essentially possible to enter the Drift without any supporting technology. Unlike us, their brains are able to achieve… true telepathy.” 

“It’s different from the connection between two humans in the Drift,” El continues. “In the hive mind, there’s this… presence. It stands out immediately. I can only describe it as… very, very powerful.”

“The queen bee,” Nancy says quietly. But Owens hears her and points to her, snapping his fingers.

“Precisely, Ranger. We call this entity the Mindflayer. Their leader.”

“Well, what the hell does it want?” Barb asks, her voice aggravated. “To kill us all? Why?”

El shakes her head.

“I don’t think it has any motivations that we would call rational. The feeling I’m getting from it is simply… hatred. Evil. I’m honestly finding it hard to understand it, it’s just so… alien. And I have to be very, very careful each time I reach for its mind. I’ve already been careless once. I got caught. The Mindflayer sensed my presence… and he knew where I was.”

Eddie narrows his eyes.

“Was that by any chance… oh, I don’t know, two days ago? When it decided to send a goddamn kill squad right for us?” 

“Yes,” El replies calmly, yet her face darkens. She looks around the room. “I am very sorry for this. I’m glad nobody was hurt.”

The tension among the Rangers rises considerably. Everyone starts talking among themselves in hushed voices. 

“Guys, this was an accident,” Hopper intervenes. “And we dealt with it. No harm done.”

“No harm?!” Jonathan retorts. “What about today? We were obviously targeted again. That Mindflayer thing, it’s obviously not happy with someone digging inside its brain, and it wants that threat gone.”

“He’s right, Captain,” Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s cool that we have a magical mindfuck kid, but this puts a target on all of our backs!”

Hopper’s expression hardens; but before he can say anything, El steps forward, walks across the room and stops in front of Eddie. She looks him over, head to toe. Her intense gaze feels unsettling to Steve, who’s not even on the receiving end of it; except in the next moment, the girl smiles, and for the first time since she walked into the briefing room, she looks like a normal teenager. Like the rest of the Cadets when they laugh and joke with each other at the breakfast table. 

“I like your hair,” she finally declares. “Bitchin’.”

Eddie chuckles nervously, visibly confused by that sudden change of demeanor.

“Uh… thanks?”

“You’re welcome”, El deadpans. “Also, you’re welcome for not having to fight any Majū today. Magical mindfuck kid got you covered.”

The dots finally connect in Steve’s mind.

“That was you?” He gasps. “You can… control them? How?”

The girl nods.

“I can’t explain how I do it. But if I focus hard enough, I can influence them through the hive mind. It only works when they are close enough to me, though.”

“Like that Flayer’s… signal, or something, gets weaker and you can take over?” 

“Good analogy,” Owens replies. “As far as we’ve figured out, the Mindflayer’s influence over the Majū is strongest when they are still in its world. Once they get through the Gate, it’s more difficult for it to maintain control. Their actions are essentially pre-programmed commands from the Flayer, which can be overridden, in a sense.” 

The room falls silent for a few seconds; everyone clearly needs a moment to process what this all means. At first glance, it seems incredible. No more fighting the Majū, so long as they can just be sent away at will?  

Except…

“Captain, what exactly is the plan from now on?” Steve speaks up. “Rely on El for the Majū to leave us alone any time they get close? What about the other bases? They don’t have that kind of luxury.”

“Oh, you’re thinking too small, Harrington,” Captain Hopper grins wolfishly. “No, Ranger. We’re not gonna be sitting ducks here. Not anymore. We’re taking the fight to them.” Hopper turns to El and actually winks at her. “You haven’t told them the best part yet, have you?” 

“No, Captain, I believe I haven’t.” El grins and looks around the room. “I’ve learned more from the Mindflayer than just how to command the Majū. I know how to close the Gate.”

Chapter Text

“So I’m gonna say it first. Captain is officially batshit insane,” Eddie declares, exhaling the smoke from his joint and passing it on to Steve. “I can’t believe command approved of this plan.”

A heavy cloud of smoke already hangs in the air inside Steve’s not exactly spacious room, currently packed tight with seven people. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t be doing this indoors; even Hopper, with his pretty high tolerance for bending the rules, would have berated them for that. But they all came to an unspoken agreement that normal likely doesn’t apply anymore. 

Tomorrow, all of them (minus Robin) will be joining the biggest and most ambitious mission the PPDC has ever attempted. Hopper asked for three Jaeger teams from each base; and of course, Nancy and Barb were the first to volunteer. When Eddie looked to Steve, he was not surprised at all at the determination on his face; and so he nodded, and they both raised their hands next. Immediately after that, Argyle and Jonathan stepped forward. 

“While I totally agree with you, Eddie,” Nancy speaks up, “I think insane might just be exactly what we need at this point. I mean, how long can we go on like this? That thing, the Mindflayer,  seems to be getting smarter. It’s learning to strategize, sending actual squads of monsters to target one specific location. What next? What if it amasses a whole army of Majū and sends them all through the Gate at the same time?”

Eddie hums in response, lying backward on the mattress, once again using Steve’s thigh as a pillow. Steve’s hand immediately goes to card through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp, and Eddie instantly feels a bit of tension seep out of his body. He glances up and shoots Steve a quick grateful smile.  

The upside of the whole situation is nobody seems to care about their physical closeness; beyond a few raised eyebrows, not a single comment is made. Everyone’s got bigger issues to think about.  

“Still,” Jonathan argues, “That’s all theoretical. What’s real is the possibility of being overrun by Majū at the bottom of the goddamn ocean. Also, do we even know if our Jaegers can handle these kinds of conditions?” 

“Of course,” Robin replies. “Hopper wouldn’t have asked you to do this otherwise. The Jaegers have been tested under various extreme conditions, including withstanding high water pressure of up to 100 atmospheres. But.. I won’t sugarcoat it,” she adds grimly, “If the hull suffers a blow hard enough to create a breach, it’s a death sentence.”

“So we might drown?”

“Actually,” Robin winces, “You’ll die instantly from depressurization. I’ll spare you the gruesome details.”

“Gee, thanks, that’s really comforting, Robs,” Steve interjects. 

“Well, I’m sorry, dingus!” She exclaims frantically. “I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just warning you. You’ll have to be extra careful. And one more thing to keep in mind: you’ll also be moving slower, much slower than usual under all that pressure. But the good news is, so will the Majū. The laws of physics apply equally to all.”

A heavy silence falls over the room. 

“Anyone regret volunteering for this yet?” Jonathan asks after a few moments. 

“Not so much regret, as just…” Barb chews on her lip. “What really worries me is that the whole mission hinges on the words of a superpowered teenager.”

“We literally witnessed what she can do,” Steve argues. “Mind control the Majū. Who’d have thought something like this was even possible? It’s like… Jedi powers, right?”

Eddie can’t help but grin with pride.

“Still,” Barb replies, “That’s something we already know she can do. The whole closing the Gate idea though… all theoretical at this point.”

“Well, the thing about theories is that they can’t be proven, or disproven for the matter, unless tested, right?” Nancy argues. “The mission’s dangerous, but it’s high stakes, incredibly high reward if it works. Just imagine it, guys. No more Gate. No more Majū.”

The way El explained it, the Gate was being kept open by the Mindflayer’s sheer force of will. It was beyond anyone’s understanding how that creature was able to open a rip between what appears to be parallel universes in the first place, but it doesn’t matter now. What matters is El’s conviction that if the Mindflayer was driven away from the Gate by turning multiple Majū against it, that will be the end of it. 

Eddie chuckles, suddenly realizing why this whole thing feels so funny. 

“Oh my god, it’s a concentration spell,” he murmurs to himself. “I wonder if the Mindflayer has CON proficiency.” He’s met with blank stares from everyone in the room and rolls his eyes. “Damn, I gotta tell this joke at the Cadet table later. At least they’ll appreciate it.”

🤖🤖🤖

Eddie spends the night in Steve’s bed. They don’t talk much, choosing to use that time to touch every inch of each other’s bodies, and fall asleep still clinging tight to one another.

Eddie can’t quite shake off the ‘last night on Earth’ vibes. He desperately hopes it’s not like that. It would be so fucking unfair. 

🤖🤖🤖

Sixteen hours later, even as Eddie watches the Gate shrink before his very eyes, feels the fireworks of elation and triumph coming from Steve through their connection, hears the gasps and overjoyed cheers over the comms, he can still barely believe it’s all over. 

If this was a movie¹², there’s no way things would go down this smoothly. There’d probably be endless heroic deaths and epic sacrifices. There’d be multiple turning points, when everything seemed lost, until a miraculous last-ditch effort was made to succeed in their mission.

As such, the only miracle they needed was with them all along. The incredible superpower girl, hitching a ride on the Wicked Striker with Nancy and Barb, hooked up to a Drift with an actual friggin’ Majū brain kept alive artificially through science Eddie didn’t even bother trying to understand. 

No, of course it wasn’t all a walk in the park. In fact, the walk from the rendezvous point with all other Jaeger teams, all brought in from their bases by gravicopters, was definitely less than pleasant. As if the awareness of potential danger waiting for them wasn’t enough, it was amplified by the crushing weight of millions of tons of water over their heads, and the complete and total darkness surrounding them; they weren’t blind, thanks to the Jaeger’s infrared cameras, but all of it was still incredibly unsettling. 

Several times on their journey, Eddie thought back to Doctor Owens’ idea of single-piloted Jaegers. No, no fucking way. He couldn’t have stayed sane in all this without Steve by his side; and from what Steve communicated back to him through the Drift, the feeling was mutual. 

And then, the Gate. The giant, alien, eerie red-glowing portal to the dimension of monsters. 

Speaking of monsters… they began to emerge through the Gate just as the Jaegers approached. Dozens of them, from smaller category Threes to several category Fives. It’s as if the Mindflayer was deliberately holding them back just inside the Gate; an actual ambush. It really was getting smarter. 

Eddie prided himself on not even flinching upon spotting a Tarrasque; still, the insurmountable fear he felt was likely matched by every single pilot witnessing this. Their team of twenty-one Jaegers was completely outnumbered. Hopper, watching the situation unfold over the cameras, ordered an immediate retreat, with the priority of delivering El back to the base alive. 

But just as they all took their first steps backwards, the Majū began to turn around. And then, one by one, they disappeared back inside the Gate. 

Back at the base, Nancy would tell the story of how she and Barb watched El in astonishment as she performed her magic. No, of course they all knew it wasn’t literally magic, but it might as well have been. For a while there, they were worried if she could even survive this; she looked like she was in great pain, her face sweaty and straining with effort, life sign monitors beeping incessantly, a stream of blood running from her nostril. And then, as the Majū began to turn around, she opened her eyes and grinned, wild and haughty.

The Gate keeps shrinking, and somebody suggests that it might be a good idea for them all to get away from it. That definitely was a good idea, Eddie realizes in horror, as the shockwave from the Gate imploding on itself knocks them all off their feet even when they’re already several miles away from it. 

“Take that, you piece of shit,” El’s voice sounds over the comms, equal parts triumph and venom. 

Eddie bursts out laughing hysterically, still riding high on the adrenaline, and is quickly joined by a chorus of similar reactions from other Rangers.  

🤖🤖🤖

That first night, the general atmosphere is that of disbelief and caution. Everyone keeps glancing at the wallscreens, fully expecting Majū-tracking dots to reappear at any moment. It all feels too good to be true. 

El claims that right before the Gate closed, she felt the Mindflayer’s presence fade within the hive mind; but beyond that, they have no concrete proof that the creature is truly dead. And if it’s not… nothing’s stopping it from opening another Gate, right? 

But nothing happens. And realization begins to sink it. It’s all really, truly over.

The following night, there’s hardly a single sober person on the entire base. Or any of the other bases, for that matter. The celebratory party for humanity’s victory rages on until early hours of the morning. 

🤖🤖🤖

Two days later, Hopper makes an announcement. The PPDC will remain operational for a while, until it is completely certain that the Gate won't suddenly reopen, but its funding has been severely cut, which means cutting down the number of teams stationed at each base, as well as an immediate discontinuation of the Cadet program. 

The news is met with great disappointment from the Cadets, who were up till now just a few days short of their final tests. Eddie rolls his eyes. It’s like they all don’t realize they literally dodged a bullet. Sure, it’s a bummer when all your hard work and training amounts to nothing, but they get to have normal lives. Find normal jobs, free of danger. 

Still, Eddie figures they could use some cheering up, so he walks up to their table at dinner and offers to host a quick D&D one-shot. He hasn’t DM’d in a while, but he thinks he can put something together within a couple of days for them. Not everyone is familiar with the game, but they all seem equally intrigued and excited about the idea. It really shows how they are still essentially a bunch of kids, when they seem to forget all about their discontent in favor of barreling him with questions about the game rules and character options. 

Eddie’s pleasantly surprised when El shows up to the game along with the Cadets. Now that all Majū research has been discontinued, the department staff has been allowed to mingle with the rest of the base; and the girl apparently made quick friends with this gang. 

They make some small talk during a break in the game, and Eddie learns of how she was orphaned during a Majū attack many years ago. Barely remembering her parents, she was still determined to avenge them, and so she applied to the Corps the day she turned 18. 

Eddie can’t even imagine how satisfying it must feel to actually achieve her goal in such a spectacular way. Watching her joke and laugh with the rest of the kids, he wonders if she will be alright going forward. He really hopes she will. He hopes they all will. 

It’s almost midnight when they finish the campaign, obtaining the treasure chest the king has tasked them with recovering after successfully slaying all the monsters Eddie had placed within the dungeon. They all thank Eddie for the fun evening and head back to their rooms, excitedly talking among themselves about how epic that last battle was. 

And that is how the world should be, Eddie thinks. With games being the only setting where people face actual monsters. Hopefully, things stay that way from now on.

🤖🤖🤖

When Eddie comes into Steve’s room that night, he finds Steve scrolling through something on his tablet. He gives Eddie a quick welcome smile before returning to the task at hand.

Eddie plops down on the bed and snuggles up to him, Steve’s free arm immediately going around his shoulders. 

“What are you reading?” He asks, throwing a leg over Steve’s thigh to make himself even more comfortable. 

“It’s a proposal Robin has come up with… She asked me to look through it before she presents it to the Captain.”

“What about?” 

“Basically, the idea is… repurposing of the soon-to-be-redundant Jaegers for civilian use. I think it’s kinda awesome.” Steve smiles and shakes his head. “She’s so damn smart, I don’t even know why she wants my input.”

“Cos you’re her best friend and she values your opinion, duh?” Eddie supplies, glancing at the text over Steve’s shoulder. “So it’s what, building houses instead of fighting monsters?” 

“More like dealing with life-threatening circumstances. Battling forest fires. Rescue from dangerous conditions, like a flood or a cave-in. The Jaegers can withstand significantly more severe conditions than any equipment humanity has ever built.” Steve chews on his lip. “I hope this idea gets picked up. It just makes sense, rather than leaving the Jaegers rotting in some hangar. It would keep the pilots useful, too. I bet a lot of Rangers are now scratching their heads about what to do with the rest of their lives.”

Eddie can sense that Steve is barely containing his excitement. 

“Is this something you wanna do?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

Steve turns to look at him.

“I mean… if it does work out… I think so, yeah.” He hesitates, putting his tablet aside. “In which case… I’m going to need a co-pilot, you know.”

“Are you, now?” Eddie tilts his head. “Well, if that position’s not filled yet, let me know where I can file my application.”

Steve grins joyfully and turns to his side to face him fully. 

“You didn’t have any plans of your own? About… the future?”

“Ah, nothing special,” Eddie shrugs. “Thought I’d put together a band, become a world famous rockstar and sleep on a pile of cash, but I’m open to less delusional suggestions.”

Steve laughs, reaching for him and pulling him close. Eddie’s own arms immediately move to wrap around Steve. He feels something tug on his heart, a pleasant warmth spreading through his insides at the pure fondness in Steve’s eyes. 

“I’m happy to go wherever you go, sweetheart,” he says, because it’s the honest truth. “If you really wanna keep tolerating my thoughts inside your head, then sure.”

“I quite like your thoughts inside my head,” Steve says, his voice taking a flirty note as he tilts his head and grins. “I even have some of my favorite ones.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. 

“I’m sure you do.” He leans in to press a soft kiss to Steve’s lips, then sighs. “Damn, forget career plans. We need a long-ass holiday first. I feel like we earned that.” 

“Well, the beach is literally within walking distance. I’m pretty sure I could whip us some margaritas from Argyle’s stash.”

“Stevie,” Eddie shakes his head. “I cannot stress enough how far from relaxing the idea of going to a beach is, to me. If possible, I’d love to never set my foot within ten miles of an ocean ever again.”

“Fair point,” Steve nods. “Road trip then? Vegas? Grand Canyon? Yosemite?”

Eddie pauses. For the first time, the reality of it all hits him. The overwhelming vastness of options, the numerous open roads in life no longer constrained to service in the Corps. 

They can go wherever they want. For however long they want. So long as they have some cash, of course, but Eddie has plenty of savings from his years in the service. 

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Steve says softly, as if reading his mind. “I’m happy to go wherever you go, too, you know.”

Eddie can sense them, the words left unspoken, on both their parts. It’s as if both of them are dancing around saying them, because it feels a little too soon, even if they are true. It’s okay, though. They’re not in any hurry. 

One day, wherever they end up, perhaps stopping on the side of the road to watch the sunset from the hood of their car, leaning against each other and sharing a can of beer, Eddie will turn to Steve, admiring the beautiful serenity on his face illuminated by soft orange light, and the words will come out on their own. And Steve will say them back; because of course he will. 

For now, though…

“I’m actually quite happy right here,” Eddie says, grinning. “I’d be happier, though, if we were to get rid of some of these clothes,” he adds teasingly, slipping a few fingers underneath the hem of Steve’s T-shirt. 

Steve laughs joyfully and pushes him down to the mattress; Eddie drags the T-shirt over his head and pulls him into a kiss. 

There’s surely no better way to celebrate the dawn of a new era than fucking until dawn. And so that’s what they end up doing. Pretty damn symbolic, in Eddie’s opinion. Pretty fucking epic.