They don’t mean to start stalking Eddie Munson.

It just… happens.

Dustin is the first to say it out loud, halfway through a mouthful of cereal in the Wheeler kitchen. “Has anyone noticed Eddie keeps vanishing at the exact same times every week?”

Steve, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, snorts. “He’s a wanted fugitive, Henderson. Vanishing is kind of his brand.”

“No,” Dustin insists, spinning the cereal box toward them like evidence. “This is different. It’s patterned.”

Robin perks up immediately. “Oh. Patterned how?”

Dustin ticks it off on his fingers. “One: the abandoned roller rink. Twice last week. Two: he keeps driving through the nice parts of Hawkins. Like—really nice. Wheeler-adjacent nice.”

Mike stiffens. “Why would Eddie Munson be near my house?”

“Exactly!” Dustin says. “And three—” he pauses dramatically, “—the library. Over and over. Same nights. Same times.”

Silence settles.

Steve rubs his jaw. “Okay. That’s… weird.”

“Libraries are romantic,” Robin says thoughtfully. “In a doomed poet kind of way.”

Steve blinks at her. “What.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugs, “this doesn’t sound like hiding. It sounds like… visiting.”

That’s when the idea sticks.

They wait until nightfall.

The library looms quiet and dark when they pull up, except for one light glowing faintly on the upper floor. Steve grips his bat automatically, nerves humming. Dustin grins like this is Christmas.

“I knew it,” he whispers.

They slip inside, the door creaking softly. The place smells like dust and old books and something warm—someone’s been here awhile. Voices drift from deeper inside, low and close.

Eddie’s voice.

Steve holds up a hand. “Careful.”

They move between shelves, heartbeats syncing with each step—until they reach the back corner near the tall windows.

And that’s when they see you.

Eddie has you pressed back against a bookshelf, tall frame angled in close like he’s guarding the space just for the two of you. One arm is braced above your head, casual but intentional. His other hand rests at your waist, grounding.

You’re clinging to the front of his jacket, fingers twisted into leather like you need it to stay upright. Your curls are mussed, your face tilted up toward his, eyes half-lidded.

Eddie leans down and kisses you.

Not rushed. Not sloppy. Just… real. Familiar. The kind of kiss that happens when two people forget the rest of the world exists.

Robin gasps.

It’s quiet. Tiny. But loud enough.

Eddie freezes mid-breath.

He pulls back slowly, dread dawning as he turns. “Oh. No. No, no, no.”

You follow his gaze, eyes widening as you register the lineup: Steve staring like he’s been slapped, Dustin vibrating with disbelief, Mike actively malfunctioning, Robin looking like she’s about to clap.

“Oh,” you say softly.

There’s a beat. Then—

“EDDIE?” Dustin yells. “YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?”

Eddie sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Guys. This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

He glances at you. “You okay?”

You nod, cheeks warm but steady. “Yeah.”

Eddie straightens and slides an arm around your shoulders like it’s second nature. “This is my boyfriend.”

Robin beams. “Called it.”

Steve exhales. “So that’s the pattern.”

You glance up at Eddie. “You didn’t tell them about me at all, did you?”

Eddie grins, unapologetic. “I wanted something that was just mine.”

Dustin groans. “I hate this. I love this. I hate that I love this.”