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Every Tuesday night, Steve and Robin close Family Video. They reshelve movies, wipe down the counters, and store away the cash before locking the doors behind them. They get in Steve’s car and drive directly to The Hideout, a bar on the other side of town.
Steve grabs a drink, just one so he’s still good to drive after, and Robin orders a soda. They sit down at a table closer to the back, their usual spot, and within ten minutes, a waiter brings them a plate of fries to eat while they watch the show.
The first time they came here was two months ago, just a week after Vecna was defeated. Steve and Robin wanted to add some normalcy to their routine, and Eddie offered The Hideout. It turned out to be the highlight of Steve’s week. There’s nothing better after a hard day’s work than eating food and listening to music with his best friend.
It’s not like the music is bad either. Eddie’s a better performer than he lets on. The crowd always varies, but the band continually draws people out. Eddie’s theory is that people just want to see who was accused and acquitted of the serial Hawkins murders. Steve thinks it’s more than that. Sure, maybe people are curious at first, but Eddie can charm anyone with his guitar. He could have major success if he gets out of Hawkins.
“That’s new,” Robin says when Corroded Coffin walks out on stage.
“What is?” Steve asks.
Robin points at Eddie on the distant stage, picking up his guitar and giving it a few test strums.
Steve squints. It’s quite dark in the building. “What? I don’t see anything.”
Robin points at her own eyes. “Eddie’s wearing eyeliner,” she explains.
Now he sees it. It’s easy to miss, but Eddie’s eyes do look slightly bolder, more intense. “Ohh,” Steve says. “I see it.”
“It suits him.”
Steve shrugs. “I guess.”
After the performance, Eddie joins them at their table. Robin immediately compliments him. “Love the new look,” she says.
Eddie smiles and runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you, thank you,” he says. “I was going for the new glam metal look. You don’t think it’s too much?”
Robin shakes her head. “Not at all. You look cool.”
Steve agrees. “Yeah, it really brings out the darkness of your eyes.”
“Harrington,” Eddie claps him on the shoulder and laughs, “you really do know how to flatter me.”
Steve rolls his eyes. He said it as a joke, but throughout their conversation, he realizes it to be true. The eyeliner genuinely does draw his attention to Eddie’s eyes. The man has always had an intense stare, but something about the way the black cream blurs against his lashes makes Steve nervous to stare back.
When Eddie tells Robin about something that happened to him the other day, Steve watches his profile carefully. Eddie smiles and his eyes crinkle with joy. It’s a good look on him.
Eddie absentmindedly swipes a hand across his face and it smudges the makeup. “Damn,” he says, looking at the pigment on his hand.
“It’s not bad,” Steve says.
Without thinking, he reaches a hand across the table and presses his index finger under Eddie’s eye, smoothing out the line again.
“There,” Steve says and wipes the makeup off his hand, for a moment oblivious to the look Eddie and Robin share.
Eddie blinks at Steve owlishly. “What?” Steve asks when he catches his expression. He feels his heart rate speed up. Should he not have done that?
Eddie shakes his head as if to say “nothing.” He clears his throat and looks back to Robin. “Right. Anyway,” he says and continues his story.
From that day on, Eddie works eyeliner into his look. He wears it for every performance and sometimes even casually. When Dustin invites Steve to go see a movie at the theater, Eddie is there in eyeliner. When Robin invites them to meet Vickie at the town fair, Eddie wears eyeliner. When Dustin and Eddie walk into Family Video fresh from the pouring rain ready to regale Steve and Robin with the latest update to the campaign, again, Eddie's eyes are smudged with it. Steve has to hand him a towel to keep the makeup from running down his cheeks.
Steve knows that he stares. And he knows that Eddie knows. He can’t help himself. There’s just something about it that’s interesting to him.
One day in mid-July, Steve is working at Family Video alone. It’s been a slow day with less than a dozen customers browsing the store. He doesn’t have anyone to talk to either. Robin is out of the state visiting family for the week.
It’s a relief to see a familiar white van pull into the near-empty parking lot. The door chimes when Eddie enters.
“Eddie Munson,” Steve says while the other man approaches the counter. “What can I do for you?”
Eddie rests an arm on the counter and leans closer to Steve. As expected, makeup surrounds his eyes. “This afternoon, I’m looking for a reclusive tape you might not have heard of.”
“Try me.”
“Tootsie, 1982.” Eddie smiles at him. His eyes crease with amusement.
“Ah, Tootsie, the major box-office hit,” Steve deadpans. “Yeah, we might have it.”
Steve briefly leaves the counter to find it in the comedy section. He places it in front of Eddie and walks behind the computer to check him out.
Eddie places a finger on the box and idly slides it closer to Steve. “Have you seen it?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah, funny film.”
“I agree.” Eddie taps his fingers against the counter. His nails are painted black. Steve’s eyes linger. “I think there’s more to it than that though.”
Steve looks away from his hands. “Like what?”
“I’m not smart enough to do an analysis on it, but I think Hoffman’s character crossdresses because he liked that people thought he was pretty. Kinda queer if you ask me.”
Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that why you’re experimenting with makeup?”
Eddie laughs. “No, I just think it’s cool. No one’s calling me pretty, Harrington.”
Steve frowns. “You are, though.” He cringes. “Prettier than Dustin Hoffman, I mean.”
“Uh,” Eddie scoffs. He looks away and runs a hand through his hair, partially covering his face with it. He’s embarrassed, Steve thinks. Interesting.
“It’s true,” Steve adds. He feels his lips twist into a smirk.
“Shut up.” Eddie’s face is pink. And he is pretty. Beautiful even. “What about you? Ever think of trying makeup?”
Steve chuckles. He’s trying to deflect. “I don’t know. Probably couldn’t pull it off.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie echoes him. His eyes scan Steve’s face deliberately slow, and the nervous feeling is back. “I’d help you.”
The statement catches Steve off guard. “What?”
“If you want to try makeup, I’m offering,” Eddie explains. “You could come by after work. My uncle won’t be home until later.”
“Seriously?” Steve responds. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell when he’s joking.
Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, why not? The two of us haven’t really hung out before, so it could be fun… If you feel like it.” He tilts his head, and suddenly he’s looking up at Steve through his eyelashes. It’s a move girls used to pull on him before he’d offer to take them home. Steve swallows.
“I’ll think about it,” he says after a moment.
Eddie stares at him. “Mmm ’kay,” he hums. He grabs the VHS and pushes himself off the counter. He waves a hand lazily in the air, then he’s gone, out the door. Steve watches the van drive away.
After closing the store, Steve doesn’t consider going home, not for more than a second. He steers through winding Hawkins roads until he reaches the secluded area where Eddie lives.
Steve steps out of the vehicle. The neighborhood is quiet save for the insects thrumming low in the grass. The windows of the trailer are dark. Briefly, Steve wonders if Eddie’s even there. He knocks against the door anyway.
Within seconds, Steve hears movement from inside. The lights flicker on, and the door cracks open. Eddie peeks out from behind the frame. He wears a different t-shirt from earlier, something softer. He’s long since removed the day’s makeup.
Eddie’s short-lived confusion breaks into a toothy smile. “Didn’t expect you to come, Harrington,” he says. He opens the door wider.
Steve steps inside. “You invited me, didn't you?”
He glances around. Not much has changed from the last time he was here except for the obvious ceiling repair.
“Yep,” Eddie responds. He gestures for Steve to come further into the room. “Make yourself at home. Want something to drink?”
“Sure. Beer, if you have it.”
Eddie laughs. “Who do you think I am?” he asks. He swings open the fridge and pulls out two bottles. Steve takes one of them and takes a long drink. Eddie watches him with something akin to fascination.
“So,” Steve starts. “How should we do this?”
Eddie laughs again. “Loosen up. You’re acting like my first-time clients.” He takes a swig of beer and walks away from the kitchen. “Come this way.”
Steve follows him through the hallway into his bedroom. He takes it in – guitar fastened to the wall, countless shelved records, miscellaneous clothes piled on a chair. It’s fitting.
Eddie crouches down to a bookshelf with several small plastic bins. “Sorry for the mess,” he says, back turned to Steve. “You can take a seat over there.” Eddie tilts his head toward the bed. And suddenly, Steve’s heart is pounding. He takes another sip from his drink.
Steve sits on the edge of the bed and lets his hands rest on the soft material of the comforter. He watches Eddie gather several different containers before plopping them on the bed beside him.
Steve raises an eyebrow. “This is a lot of makeup, Munson.”
Eddie shrugs. He separates the boxes, organizing them. “Yeah, I just own it, really. Too self-conscious to wear more than the liner in public.”
“Self-conscious?” Steve echoes. “That’s too bad.”
“I know, right? Can’t believe it myself,” Eddie says. He points at one of the tubes. “Okay, so here’s the eyeliner.” His finger glides from item to item. “Lipstick. Mascara. Another lipstick. Eyeshadow. And, well, the rest are eyeshadow palettes.”
Steve looks between the items, nodding to himself. He picks up one of the palettes. All the colors in this one are shades of brown and red. He puts it back down.
Eddie watches him the whole time, arms crossed over his chest. He shifts on his feet. “You know, you don’t have to do anything if you’re not into it,” he offers. “We could just watch a movie or something.”
“That’s not it.” Steve shakes his head and glances up at Eddie. “Can you do it?” he asks.
Eddie’s brows scrunch together. “What?”
“The makeup. I don’t know how to put it on,” Steve explains. “And I’m trying to look good,” he adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Alright, shoes off and scoot over,” he says, kicking at Steve’s legs.
Steve moves further back into the bed to make room for Eddie, who sits next to him, legs crossed. Eddie picks up a brush.
“What kind of look are you going for?” he asks seriously, looking to Steve.
Steve laughs and throws a hand up. “I have no idea. Just make me beautiful.”
Eddie smirks at him. “You’re good on that front, Steve,” he says. He picks up the same palette Steve was looking at earlier. “I’m just going to do something more casual then. Test the waters a bit. Don’t wanna scare ya.”
Steve scoffs. “You’re not going to scare me, Munson. I’m fine.”
Though, truth be told, Steve’s heart still beats rapidly in his chest. He watches Eddie draw the brush through a lighter beige color.
“Okay, close your eyes,” Eddie says.
Eddie moves the brush closer to his face, so Steve lets his eyes drift shut. A cold hand tilts his chin up, then he feels the soft strands of the brush dust across his right eyelid. Eddie spends several minutes at this going back and forth between Steve’s eyes.
The bed shifts, so Steve blinks. Rather than remain sitting with his legs crossed, Eddie has moved to his knees, now at a position above Steve. Warmth flares across Steve’s face. He hopes his breathing sounds even.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie chastises him when his attention is back from the palette. “Keep ‘em closed.”
Before Steve can close his eyes again, he catches the way the brush shakes in Eddie’s hand. He’s just as affected. Good.
“Look at me,” Eddie says a minute later.
Steve’s gaze is met with dark eyes. Steve forces himself to hold his stare. Eddie’s focus shifts away first.
“Okay, they’re even,” he says. He picks up a pencil. “I’m going to attempt eyeliner, but I need you to hold still. If you move, I’ll kill you.”
“Great,” Steve says.
Keeping still proves to be quite challenging. The eyeliner is ticklish. Steve tells him as much.
Eddie resorts to holding half of Steve’s face in his hand. It keeps him still, but it also squashes any other thought Steve was about to say.
“What are you thinking about?” Eddie asks after a moment. “I can hear the gears turning.”
“Am I allowed to talk?” Steve asks quietly.
Eddie chuckles softly. “I’m working on your eyes, Stevie. Not your lips.”
Steve smiles. “How do you do this all the time?” he asks.
“Practice,” Eddie answers. He sets down the pencil. “Eyeliner is done.” He picks up another tube of something.
“Lipstick time?” Steve asks.
“Lipstick time,” Eddie confirms.
He uncaps a dark red shade and tilts Steve’s face further up, allowing better access to his lips. Steve swallows hard, and with his throat so exposed, there’s no doubt that Eddie noticed. For Steve’s sake, he doesn’t say a word.
Eddie’s thumb ghosts along Steve’s bottom lip. “Part your mouth a bit,” he says. His voice is quiet.
Steve does as commanded and Eddie applies the lipstick quickly. He feels the pressure of Eddie’s nail scrape along one side of his mouth, cleaning up the line. Then, Eddie pulls back, capping the container. “Done,” he says.
Steve takes that as his chance to lean back on his arms against the bed, forcing Eddie to look down at him even more. “How do I look?” Steve drawls at him. He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. He must because Eddie blushes.
Eddie opens a palette with a mirror. “Here,” he says, handing it to Steve.
Steve glances at his reflection. Eddie did a great job. The corners of his eyes have been blended into a darker brown, leaving the center a more natural, slightly-red shade. The same intensity the eyeliner gives Eddie is now reflected on Steve. Then there’s the dark red lipstick; it’s difficult not to stare.
Steve snaps the palette shut and places it back on the bed.
“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Tell me.”
“What?” Eddie’s voice is still quiet.
Steve looks at him right in the eyes. “Tell me how good I look.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open. “Uh.” He blinks and laughs nervously. “Steve…”
Steve isn’t letting this go. He continues to stare.
“Uh,” Eddie says again. “You look good. Really good.”
Steve’s lips curl into a smirk. “Good enough to kiss?” he asks, a heavy hit.
“Harrington,” Eddie berates, low and breathy. His eyes dart away from Steve’s, and he runs a hand through his hair. “What are you doing to me?” The question comes out nearly a whisper, rhetorical, like Steve wasn’t meant to hear it.
Steve slides his leg along Eddie’s calf, forcing him to make eye contact. It’s a move he’s done with dozens of girls, but he can’t remember another time with this much tension. Eddie’s dark eyes are frozen against Steve’s.
“Isn’t it obvious, Eddie?” Steve murmurs, sitting up and drifting closer. His eyes flick to Eddie’s lips then back up. “I’m asking you to kiss me,” he says, the killing blow.
Eddie moves and just like that, his mouth presses insistently against Steve’s. Steve kisses him back with the same intensity. He grips the front of Eddie’s shirt tightly and pulls his body closer. Eddie’s legs wrap around his thighs, straddling him and pushing deeper into Steve’s space.
Eddie breaks apart from the kiss and gasps for air. His dark eyes look more striking than Steve’s ever seen, and his mouth is red from Steve’s lipstick. “You’re so fucking hot,” Steve mumbles.
He wastes no more time and runs his mouth underneath Eddie’s jaw, taking extreme satisfaction at the trail of makeup his mouth leaves behind. Steve suppresses a shudder when Eddie’s hands card through his hair and grab it tightly. Steve sucks hard at a spot on Eddie’s neck. “Christ,” Eddie sighs above him. “The fuck is happening?” he whines.
Steve pulls back to look at Eddie’s face; he already looks wrecked. Steve loves it. “If you want,” Steve says and laughs moments later when Eddie’s jaw drops in spluttering shock.
“Oh my god,” Eddie says and swats at Steve’s chest. He laughs when Steve falls back playfully.
Steve props himself up on his elbow. “I’m serious though,” he says.
“As much as,” Eddie’s voice comes out strangled, so he tries again. “As much as I’d love that.” His hand on Steve’s chest trails down his body until it reaches his thigh. Steve bites the inside of his lip. “And I mean really love that, I think I need more time to process this.” He grins. “I promise this wasn’t my intention when I came into the store today.”
Steve gives an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I guess you’re right.”
Eddie slides off of Steve’s legs, and Steve sits up. Eddie pats him on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Harrington,” he says. “You can jerk off to me when you get home.”
Steve scoffs. He nods repeatedly and draws his mouth into a tight line, trying to look offended despite the surge of warmth rushing to his face. “Wow,” he says, drawing out the syllable. “Maybe I will,” he threatens.
Eddie giggles. “If it’s any consolation, I like to be tied up.”
“Jesus.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “I gotta get out of here. You’re dangerous, Munson,” he says, pointing at him, then stands to put on his shoes.
“Oh, wait,” Eddie says. He shuffles through the makeup and grabs a bottle of something. “Breathtaking as you are, perhaps you might want to remove the makeup before getting home.” Eddie hands him the bottle and several cotton balls.
“Right, yeah.” Steve stares at the bottle then looks to Eddie expectantly.
“All you have to do is scrub your eyes and mouth with the solution, Steve. I think you can handle this one.”
Reluctantly, Steve stands in front of Eddie’s mirror and removes the makeup. The look may have been temporary, but it had already lived its life. His eyeshadow got slightly smudged and the lipstick was smeared to hell. Next to him, Eddie also takes to removing the red from his neck and face.
Eddie walks him out afterwards. “Thank you for coming over,” he says to Steve while leaning against the door. His smile now permanently plastered to his face.
“Thanks for having me,” Steve responds, smiling back. “See you Tuesday?”
“You can count on it,” Eddie says, then abruptly steps forward and leans into Steve, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. Before Steve has time to think, Eddie’s moved away.
Steve shakes his pointer finger at Eddie. “Dangerous, Munson,” Steve repeats. “Dangerous.” He turns and walks away. He glances back at the trailer upon unlocking his car, and Eddie still watches him from the doorstep. He waves a hand lazily in the air, then he’s gone, door closed. Steve twists the keys into the car, invoking life to the engine, and drives away. He’ll be back.