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Eddie gets to Melvald’s a few minutes before it closes on Christmas Eve.
Just in time.
Wayne had sent him there after realizing he was out of apples for the pie he was trying to make for tomorrow. Eddie hadn’t exactly been thrilled about driving through the snow, or about trying to dodge the other last-minute shoppers scrambling to buy everything before the stores close for the holiday.
But here he is, anyway.
He grabs the apples, and a six pack of beer just because.
It’s Christmas, ok?
It’s as he’s traipsing back through the parking lot, shivering in his leather jacket, that he smells it.
Honey, ocean salt, summer flowers on a warm day.
Stopping in his tracks, the alpha sniffs.
His lips part, as if to draw in more of that scent, and warmth fills him.
It’s intoxicating.
Before he can stop them, his feet are moving. He seeks out the salty-sweet tang in the air, follows it like a bloodhound, heart hammering in his chest. The further he walks, the more he can pick up a sour note amongst it, a hint of fear and pain.
His alpha’s practically roaring. Omega, hurting, find!
And find him, he does.
Curled up in a dank alleyway down the side of Melvald’s, next to the giant trash cans, is Steve Harrington.
He looks freezing. Hunched up, knees to his chest, tremoring in a thin hoody. There’s a discarded bag of groceries beside him, eggs smashed on the concrete, juice leaking from a bottle.
Here, up close, he reeks of fear.
Eddie stops short of him. Squats down slowly, puts down his bag with the apples and beer and tilts his head. “Steve?”
The omega glances up, eyes darting from Eddie to back towards the parking lot, like he’s expecting someone else. He doesn’t say anything. Just draws his arms around his knees even tighter, withdraws further into himself.
Eddie’s got no idea what’s going on. The last time he’d seen Steve, the guy had been about to graduate high school, had been the captain of his basketball team and the unspoken king of the cafeteria and hallways. Sure, he hadn’t presented yet, was a late bloomer, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the alpha in him made itself known.
Except…the only thing Eddie can scent on the boy is omega. Pure, scared, raw, omega.
It’s Christmas. No one should be this sad and scared on Christmas.
Eddie rocks back on his heels. “Pretty cold here. Do you need help getting to your car?”
Steve shakes his head. “Walked,” he croaks.
Frowning, Eddie asks, “From Loch Nora? That’s a long way.”
“I don’t live there anymore,” Steve mumbles. “Got kicked out.”
“Ok…well, can I give you a ride to wherever you are living?” Cogs are turning in Eddie’s mind, trying to piece together just what in the hell had happened to King Steve in the months since he’d seen him.
Steve doesn’t answer. There’s tear tracks on his cheeks, Eddie notices, and the dark shadow of a bruise blooming behind them.
His alpha bristles.
Eddie leans in close. Slowly, so as not to freak the omega out even more. “Someone put their hands on you, sweetheart?”
Where the pet name came from, he couldn’t say. But all he sees is an omega needing help, and his alpha’s screaming at him to provide it.
Wordlessly, Steve nods. He brings a hand up, scrubs it across his nose, winces at the pain it must cause.
“Here, let me pick this stuff up for you.” Eddie starts to gather up the groceries that are scattered on the ground, needing to do something to keep his trembling hands occupied. The eggs weren’t salvageable, but he grabs several tins, the pack of ham, the bread rolls, the butter. “Shopping for Christmas dinner?” he asks, trying to keep his voice light.
Steve nods again. “Was gonna cook. For me and Robin.”
“Robin Buckley? You living with her?” He remembers seeing the two of them hanging around each other in that final year of school, thought at the time how odd a pair they seemed.
Opposites attract, he supposes.
“Yeah.”
“She’s probably wondering where you are, right? So how about you let me help you up and get you home?” Eddie tries, hoping the thought of his partner missing him might jog Steve into action.
“She’s at work,” he mumbles.
“Well, if my omega was freezing their ass off in a dirty alleyway, I’d want someone to help them get home.”
Steve scoffs at that, the most animated Eddie’s seen him yet. “M’not her omega. I’m not anyone’s. We’re just friends.”
Oh, how Eddie’s alpha swoons at that little titbit of information.
“Ok, well I guess I’ll just sit here with you, until you’re ready to move.” Eddie makes a show of sighing, of sinking down to sit across from Steve. “Pretty cold though. And my uncle’s waiting at home, he wanted these apples, you see.” He holds up the bag of them. “He’s making a pie. Probably standing in the kitchen right now, tapping his foot, getting impatient.”
“So go then,” Steve grumbles.
Eddie shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “Not going without you. My conscience will never let me sleep.”
Steve looks at him for a long moment.
Eddie’s alpha practically screams at him to get closer to Steve. To pull him close, assess his injuries, to keep him warm, to protect, to comfort.
He swallows back the urge.
“I ran out of prescription blockers,” Steve says eventually, voice just above a whisper. “Can’t get a refill till after Christmas, so I thought I’d look for the shitty over the counter ones Melvald’s sometimes sells while I did the groceries but they didn’t have any either. I was stinking out the aisles, and…this alpha, he grabbed me when I was leaving.”
Eddie swallows. Steve’s scent is strong; there’s no denying it. But it made sense if he’d been on blockers for a long time and suddenly stopped – scents tended to come back tenfold as hormones ravaged the system – it wasn’t a fun time.
“He was big. And ugly.” Steve screws up his nose. “And he tried to get me to go with him to his car. He…had his hand on my arm.”
Unconsciously, Eddie shuffles a little closer.
“I told him to fuck off, kicked him, and he hit me.” Steve sucks in a breath. “Someone else came over to see what had happened, he told them I was just some whore omega that came onto him, that I attacked him when he said no, and they just shrugged it off and left.”
Eddie clenches his jaw hard enough to almost crack teeth. He knows how most people still view omegas – as hormone-riddled whores, as weak, as lesser, and he hates it. Wayne had faced similar prejudice all his life, had raised Eddie to be a different sort of alpha, to cherish the omegas in his life.
“I ran in here. Tripped and dropped the groceries. The alpha hung around for a bit, tried to be all…sweet, tried to get me to come out and go home with him, but when I didn’t answer he just called me a dirty slut and walked off.”
Eddie’s fists clench at his sides. He forces himself to exhale slowly, to keep calm – Steve didn’t need his anger right now.
“I threw an egg at him,” Steve adds.
That pulls a small smile from Eddie. “Did you hit him?”
Lips twitching in the ghost of a smile, Steve nods. “I don’t miss.”
With a sinking feeling, Eddie realizes what it must’ve looked like to Steve when he himself had asked to take Steve home, when he’d tried to be gentle and kind to him.
“I’m not like him,” Eddie says, vehement. “Like that asshole of an alpha. I wouldn’t hurt you. I really just want you to be somewhere safe.”
And I think you’re beautiful.
Because, even bruised and cold, hands filthy from the alleyway concrete and pants spattered with orange juice, Steve’s the most stunning person Eddie’s ever seen.
For now, though, he keeps that to himself.
Slowly, Steve nods. “I know. I remember you from school. Walking on lunch tables. Lost sheep, conformity, all that stuff.” He flaps a hand.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, that was me.”
“You were always pretty vocal about omega rights.”
“Damn right.”
Steve meets his eye. Eddie’s alpha swells, chest close to bursting. “Can you…take me home?”
“’Course I can.” Eddie offers him a hand.
Steve takes it. Eddie helps him to his feet, cradles Steve’s hand for a moment.
It’s cold.
His alpha begs to warm it up, to wrap around Steve, to warm all of him up.
Instead, he lets go. Grabs Steve’s grocery bag along with his own, and hovers close to his side as they walk to Eddie’s van.
Steve fiddles with the passenger doorhandle.
“Sorry, you just gotta jiggle it, hang on.” Eddie leans over him, tugging at the handle.
The movement brings his face close to Steve’s.
Too close.
Steve gazes at him. At his mouth. He blinks, slow, then meets Eddie’s gaze again.
“Sorry,” Eddie repeats croakily.
Steve shuffles closer.
Eddie gets a potent lungful of honey, of salt, of a meadow in full bloom, and there’s no way Steve wasn’t smothering him in his scent on purpose.
Still, he resists. Isn’t like those other alphas. Won’t ever act on an assumption, especially after what had just happened to Steve in this same parking lot.
“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs, and pulls away, making for the driver’s seat.
He doesn’t miss the brief look of surprise, of warmth that crosses Steve’s face.
Robin and Steve’s place is close, it turns out. Still, Eddie didn’t like to imagine Steve walking there in this cold, on the icy footpath, especially not after his ordeal.
He parks the van up where Steve points, leaves the engine running so he can keep the heater on for the omega.
Steve looks towards the door but doesn’t move.
“Steve?” Eddie prompts softly.
“Thank you,” Steve says. He turns, gazes at Eddie again.
It’s heady, that look.
Eddie could get lost there.
Before he gets the chance to, Steve leans across the gearbox and presses his lips to Eddie’s.
Brief, soft, sweet.
Eddie’s heart hammers, his alpha performing somersaults in his tummy.
“Come for Christmas dinner tomorrow,” he blurts, as Steve pulls away with a smile. “Or…no, sorry, you’re already making dinner, sorry. Ignore me.”
“Eddie -”
“Dessert!” Eddie snaps his fingers, holds up the bag of apples he’d shoved in the footwell. “Apple pie. Robin’s welcome too, Wayne always makes too much, you guys could come around after dinner.”
Steve laughs quietly, and Eddie’s heart leaps at the sound.
“I’d like that. And Robin loves apple pie.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. Had Steve just…accepted his offer?
In answer, Steve closes the distance between them, kisses him again, his lips soft and still a little cold but perfect. “Forrest Hills still?” he whispers.
Dumbly, Eddie nods.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Steve breathes. And then he’s leaving the van, heading inside the little apartment with his groceries in hand, turning back to wave sweetly at Eddie.
Honey and salt spray and sun-drenched wildflowers linger in the van, in Eddie’s nose.
Omega, Eddie’s alpha hums. Ours.
“Oh, shut up,” Eddie murmurs, but he’s smiling as he jerks the van into reverse.
He’s never looked forward to apple pie so much in all his life.