Chapter Text
Steve Harrington didn't hate Eddie Munson; that was a common misconception. One that Steve had never tried to rectify, really, but still, Steve Harrington didn't hate Eddie Munson, and he was fairly sure that Eddie Munson didn't hate him back. So why was it that everytime the other boy gave him that infamous grin, there was a sinister feeling in the pit of his stomach?
Okay, maybe sinister wasn't the best way to put it. Just the feeling of something being off, like there was some piece to the guy he was missing, some clue he hadn't quite slotted into place.
It had been around four months since they'd defeated Vecna, and Steve had put that behind him, he swore. But when he thought about what Jason had said, about the devil possessing Eddie, Steve wasn't so sure he was wrong. Not because he plays Dungeons and Dragons, or wears a leather jacket, or any of that nerdy crap. Just because when their eyes meet, there's that undeniable feeling.
Steve had learned to trust his gut, when things got weird, and his gut told him that the devil lives within Eddie Munson.
But again, Steve didn't hate the guy. It was just...
And of course, every time he tried to bring it up to Robin, she laughed at him. Actually fully laughed. Steve had tried to explain, over the sound of her slapping her knee, that he was serious! There was something wrong with Eddie.
He wasn't saying they should burn him at the stake, just that they needed to keep an arm's length, but of course, that just made Robin laugh harder.
Right now, the two of them were behind the counter at the Family Video Store, Steve leaning against the space next to the cash register and Robin sitting in the little plastic chair with her legs across one of the arms, and both of the right legs of the chair off the ground. Steve was sure she was going to fall any moment, but it didn't seem relevant to tell her, as she probably already knew.
"So- so let me get this straight," She began, and Steve wanted to mumble something about how he was the only one of them capable of doing that, but it didn't seem like the time. "You think the guy is... what, demonically possessed? Devilishly evil? Just because everything you look at him, your stomach 'feels bad'?"
"Off, Robin, it feels off. I mean... don't you ever get the impression that he's hiding something? Something big?" That made her perk up, her facial expression turning into something Steve couldn't quite dicipher. Offended, maybe? It certainly wasn't good, but wasn't awful either.
"I'm sorry, Steve. You're going to talk to me, Hawkin's secret lesbian, and imply that him hiding something makes him inherently evil?"
Steve sighed. "That's different."
Robin rolled her eyes. "How is that different?"
"Because Eddie's not gay!" he replied, voice raised, and Robin's face morphed somewhere between a scoff and a grin
"Well," she said, looking past him and into the enterance of the store, "why don't you verify that with him yourself?"
Steve followed her gaze, turning one hundred and eighty degrees to where Eddie Mudson, in the flesh, was approaching the double doors that lead into their less-than-oftenly frequented establishment. He seemed to be looking around, not having caught sight of them yet, and Steve, seizing the oppurtunity, quickly ducked himself under the countertop of the store.
"What are you doing?" Robin asked, incredulous, and Steve's only reply was "Act natural!"
Robin put her best "this is a completely normal day and nothing is being hidden under the counter" face on while Steve, hiding under the counter and freaking out more than a little, heard a the tell-tale ding! from the front of the shop as Eddie walked through the doors.
"Hey!" he said to Robin as he approached the counter. Steve could hear the stomp of the white sneakers he always wore, and the jangling of what he assumed were keys. "Robin Buckley! How's my favorite gal?"
"Oh, y'know," Robin began, almost too casual, "About as good as things can be, for a teen working minimum wage." That made Eddie laugh, and just the sound of it did awful things to Steve's stomach.
What a bastard.
"Well," Eddie replied, "I was actually looking for Harrington. Not that I don't enjoy your company, there's just something I'd like to tell him."
And, in that moment, Robin must've glanced down, or otherwise given the game away, because there was a brief silence, followed by Eddie leaning over the counter to meet Steve's ashamed gaze.
Then came the worst part.
Eddie smiled at him.
"Harrington!" he said, as if delighted by the other man's presence. "Now. What are you doing under the counter?" Steve rolled his eyes as he began to get up, and Eddie's unimposing gaze followed him every second as he did.
"I was just..." Steve tried to think of a less cowardly word for hiding.
"Looking..." Robin supplied, like they were play a one word at a time story-making game. Eddie raised his hands in surrender.
"Say no more," he said, "Harrington, now that you're... finished, care to talk?"
Steve, having fully gotten up and brushed himself off, nodded deafetedly. "Y'know what, Munson?" he said to the other boy, "Sure. Why not?"
He walked out from behind the counter, prompting Eddie to gesture, like, ladies first. And sure, he didn't say it, but the implication still lead Steve to narrow his eyes slightly as he walked past, almost a sarcastic thanks. The two of them walked out of the store together.
For some reason, when they rounded the corner so they weren't standing directly in front of the exit, Steve thought What if this is it? What if he shoves me up against the building and... possesses me? Is that how possession works?
Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve's worries, turned to him as he rummaged through his pockets, giving him a sickening smile before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. "Want a smoke?" he asked, in a voice of faux innocence.
"I'm good, thanks." Steve replied, uneasy, hoping his general demeanour would be enough for Eddie to just get to the point. But instead, the other boy pulled out a cig for himself, taking his time as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. They stood there, in relative silence, as Eddie took a long drag. Finally, after letting out a puff of smoke, he spoke.
"So, Henderson's birthday is coming up."
Steve stared at him. "Okay..."
"He wants to play a game of paintball." Eddie said, like it was the most casual thing in the world, which Steve figured, for Eddie, it might be. He just had one question, though.
"What the hell is paintball?" He asked, which made Eddie grin a big, goofy grin.
"You don't know what paintball is?"
"No,"
"Oh, Harrington. and here I was thinking you knew everything."
Steve scoffed. "I've never claimed to."
"Well. How do I explain paintball?" Eddie pondered over his cigarette, before snapping his fingers excitedly. A big bright lightbulb might as well have appeared over his head.
"You know when, in grade school, the more, let’s say, asshole-ish kids would chase you home, shooting you with their BB guns?"
That gave Steve a pause. "No..." he trailed off, because, no, that had never happened to him.
Eddie tilted his head curiously. "Huh. I guess not all experiences are universal. Anyway, it's a little like that, except we all get guns, it's in the woods, and everyone's having a good time." When Steve gave him an incredulous look, he continued, "The guns have paint inside of them instead of BB's, there's a tactical element-- look, I'm sure Henderson would love to school you on this topic, so I'll leave that to him. The point is, the party's going to be this Saturday, wear clothes you don't mind getting messy." He gave him a once over. "Or, what you're wearing now is fine. I don't think anyone would mind if that particular striped polo shirt got stained."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Nice, Munson. Anyway, why me, though?"
Eddie gave him a look. "I don't know, Dustin seems to like you well enough, why wouldn't he invite you?"
"Not that, I know that. I'm just-- is Robin not invited? Why take me outside to talk one on one?"
Eddie thought for a moment. "Dustin said this was... what was his exact phrasing... a "boy's night"? I wasn't under the impression that Robin would be too upset over not being invited." He lifted the cigarette back to his lips, coyly asking, "Do you think she will be?"
Steve thought for a moment of a bunch of teenage boys' impression of a boy's night. He chuckled to himself. "No, I don't think Robin will be offended in the slightest."
"Then we agree," Eddie said, "boys aren't really her thing." Before Steve could even begin to process that statement, the other boy clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "I'll see you arround, Harrington." With that, he walked off.
Steve, realizing how tensed up he'd been during their conversation, shook it off, rolling his shoulders, before heading back into the shop, where Robin was reading a magazine, still in her percarious position.
"Buckley!" he called out, and she didn't look up to respond with a "Yea?"
"Me and the rest of the-" he gestured with no real implication "-boys are going to play paintball in the woods."
"Sweet," she responded, still not looking up. Steve made his way to the outside of the counter, where he rested his hands and began knocking them against it in no specific pattern, and thoughful look on his face. There was a couple of seconds of this before Robin sighed and lowered her magazine, finally looking at Steve. "Something on your mind?" she asked.
"Uh, no, nothing in particular." He replied, and they both knew he was lying.
Regardless, she said, "Cool." and returned to her magazine.
"It's just--" Steve began, and she sighed, lowering the magazine again, "--does Eddie, like, know, do you think?"
"Know about your whole devil theory?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "I doubt he could've picked up something that wild from context clues, and I certainly didn't tell him."
"No, not that. Y'know the whole..." Steve gestured again, with even less meaning behind it. "...gay thing. You being gay."
Robin gave him a small smile before returning to her magazine with a casual, "Yea, he knows."
Steve was shocked. "Oh!" he said, "That's cool." There was a pause, before, "When did you tell him?"
"I don't know, like, three weeks ago? We were just hanging out in his trailer--"
"Getting high?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, getting high. And he said-- well it's not important, he just made a joke. It was clear that he was, you know, trustworthy, in that moment. So I told him I'm a lesbian. And then he said "are you sure you don't like Dungeons and Dragons? Because most of the lesbians I know like Dungeons and Dragons.""
Steve raised his eyebrows at the implications of that. "There are other lesbians? Like, in Hawkins?" Robin nodded.
"I asked the same thing," she said, "But of course, he wasn't just about to out them, and I wasn't about to make him, so we just moved on." She paused. "He also knows that you know, so feel free to gossip about my plethora of same-sex love interests behind my back."
"Damn." Steve said, mostly to himself. Robin scanned his face.
"What?" she asked.
"What "what"?"
"You're acting weird." She stated, like it was a fact.
"No I'm not."
"Steve--"
"Fine. I guess... I just thought... How do I phrase this without sounding like a dick?"
"Yea, I'd think on that, if I were you."
Steve laughed a little, before saying, "I guess I thought... I mean, obviously I wasn't going to be the only person to know. You'd tell prospective girlfriends, and other gay people, and stuff. And by the time you've moved out of Hawkins, to... California, I guess, because that seems to be where all the gay people are, the general public would be... aware. Y'know, you'd be all out and proud, or whatever."
"But?"
"But that whole thing you told me, with Tammy Thompson and the jealousy and all that... I thought that was like, an us thing. I guess I thought that I was your straight guy, you know?"
Robin rolled her eyes. "You're still my straight guy, Steve. Some random nerd wouldn't be able to replace the eerily specific place you hold in my life. Besides, with him, I didn't do the whole thing. It was more casual, you know? I was just like, "Hey, I'm a lesbian.""
"’Hey, I'm a lesbian’?" Steve repeatedly teasingly.
"Well, not exactly like that, anyway." He gave her a grin, "Shut up, it just... it wasn't a big deal. And y'know I needed that whole speach thing with you, not because you're less tolerant or anything, but just because it was my first time telling anyone and it was a big fucking deal. But I also like the casualness of it. Just, "Hey, I'm a lesbian". It feels right."
Steve nodded. "Right. And... I'm sorry, for being needy, or whatever. It's not because I don't want you to be happy, really. You're just, like..." he smiled, then adopted a preppy, girlish voice. "totally my B-F-F."
Robin pretended to gag at that, which lead Steve to laugh, just a little.
"Yea, Steve." She replied,"You're like... totally my B-F-F too."
* * *
That Saturday, Steve was driving to their spot in the woods with a carful of dweebs. Riding in shotgun was Dustin Henderson, who had been fiddling with the stereo, and only didn't get swatted away bc he was the birthday boy. In the backseat was Mike and Lucas, with Will squeezed in middle seat between them. The Byers hadn't moved back-- at least, not yet, Steve thought-- but had been visiting Hawkins every chance they got after they got reunited with Hopper, who refused to leave his hometown. Currently, the three boys were arguing about some nerdy shit that Steve was trying to pay attention to, because that's what a good parental figure does.
"No, you don't get it," Mike began, "Tiamat and Takhisis are the one and the same. They're literally just two different names for the same person, aka, The Dragon Queen! Gary Gygax essentially confirms it, she's not gay! How is a person supposed to date herself?
"They aren't the same person," Lucas rebutted, "They're two sides of the same coin, that's their entire dynamic in Dragonlance! What's more gay than that?"
"I'm sorry," Steve said, checking on them in the reviewer mirror, "What are you two arguing about?"
"Whether or not Tiamat is gay," Dustin answered, "I've chosen to be a neutral state in this conflict."
"Right, right," Steve nodded, "Just... Tiamat... is a dragon?"
"A dragon queen!" Every kid in the car corrected him at once, and Steve raised his hands in surrender.
"Right, a dragon queen. Five heads, if I remember right. "
"That is correct." Dustin said, nodding.
"So how can she be gay?" And Mike nodded, like thank you!
"Uh, if she's falls in love with a girl," Lucas said, as if it's blindingly obvious, "then that would have to make her gay."
"Yea, Steve, stop being such an bigot," Dustin chimed in, "Dragon queens can be gay too."
"So you agree?" Lucas said, "She's in love with Takhisis."
"I'm saying it's a possibility."
"Well Mike just doesn't want her to be gay because he has a crush on her." Lucas stated bluntly, and Mike's face fell into full offended mode. Steve rolled his eyes.
"I do not!" Mike said, voice high and breaking a little.
"Yes, you do. You have ever since middle school when she appeared in Dragonlance." Lucas responded.
"Mike, it's perfectly normal to have a crush on a fictional character," Steve said, "And just because you have a girlfriend doesn't mean that those types of feelings go away--"
Mike covered his ears. "No, no this is not happening, this is not--"
"Y'know," Steve continued, "you're growing up so fast that you just have to realize--"
"This is not happening--"
"Your body's going through changes--" Lucas laughed at that, and Steve retorted, "You too, Lucas. All of you! Things are going to look a lot different all over the place--"
With that, the whole car ewwwww'd and Lucas went, "This isn't about that, Steve. This is about the fact that Mike won't accept that Tiamat and Takhisis are gay--"
Will, who had been quiet this whole time, finally raised his gaze from his own hands in his lap to say, "I'm gay."
The whole car froze.
The only sound was the low, tinny sound of ABBA coming from the stereo. That's appropriate, Steve thought.
After a couple more seconds, Steve pulled up the backroad and realized they were where they were supposed to be. As he parked the car and put the handbrake on, he sighed. Guess if this group of awkward teens were too riddled with shock to say anything supportive, he'd have to step up.
"Well," he said, turning around to face the three kids in the back, but looking directly at Will, who seemed to have shrunken into himself even more than usual. "Thank you for telling us, Will. I'm sure I, and everyone here would like to tell you that we're honored you trust us enough to share that part of your life with us." There was a pause. "Right?" he asked, firmly, to the rest of the boys. They all muttered vague agreement.
Steve nodded, then looked back at Will. "We love you either way, bud. Sorry if theze bozos are weird at first, sometimes it takes some getting used to."
"Now," Steve continued, louder. "I do believe Henderson promised us something referred to as 'paintball'. Who's ready?" And with that, he got out of the car.
Outside, the woods looked beautiful. The leaves on the trees were a lushious green, and sunlight was streaming through the canopy enough to calm his nerves about the whole going to the woods, where no-one can hear you scream thing. In the distance was Eddie's car, and the other man, spotting Steve, waved and climbed out of the vehicle. Eddie looked different, Steve thought. Probably because he was wearing clothes he didn't mind getting paint on. His leather jacket was gone, as was his denim vest, leaving just some well-loved jeans and a cutt-off shirt. Steve tried not to stare at the newly exposed area around his shoulders.
"Harrington!" Eddie said with a smile, "Come here often?"
Steve rolled his eyes, replying with, "Do you?"
Eddie gestured to the car behind Steve, where the teens were unbuckling and silently making their way out of the car. "What did you do to make the boys so blue? I thought they'd be talking up a storm by now."
Steve looked over to where Eddie was gesturing, and then to down at his feet. After a brief moment of consideration, he grabbed Eddie's arm and yanked the other boy away from the car. "Whoa!" Eddie protested, despite the fact that he let himself be dragged. "I didn't mean to offend, Harrington, I just-"
Steve, having taken the two of them suitably far away from the teens, shushed him. Eddie immediately stopped talking, eyes scanning Steve up and down. "What's wrong?" He asked.
"On the car ride over," Steve began, voice low, "Will told the boys... well, it's not important, but something personal-"
"He came out to them?" Eddie asked, voice also low but tone incredulous.
Steve nodded reflexsively, before realizing what he'd done, and started shaking his head no. "What? No. Who told you that? That Will is... is gay? Because it is... not true."
Eddie gave him a look. "You're a horrible liar, you know that? And so is Will." He paused. "Joyce told me. He's been getting bullied for it since grade school, she thought I could, y'know, be the cool older boy who said "gay is okay". I DM'd a campaign with gay knights and lesbian princesses and a thinly vieled metaphor about self acceptance-- it was a whole thing. So yea, I know, and I was fairly certain that everyone else did, too. But I'm willing to guess that his official declaration of homosexuality wasn't taken well?"
Steve nodded. "I don't even know-- I think it wasn't like, something he was ramping up to. It seemed like a "well, the oppurtunity is there" type of thing. They were arguing about whether or not Tiamat is gay, and--"
"Tiamat?" Eddie interrupted, shaking his head, "Say no more." He turned to make his way back to his car.
Steve grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Eddie turned back to him with a grin. "Parenting." And he tugged his arm away.
Steve watched him, curious, as he walked all the way back to his car, unlocking the trunk and opening the big duffle bag inside. Steve was startled as he pulled out what appeared to be a gun with bright, neon tape wrapped around it. But Steve had seen a gun before, this wasn't it. He vaguely remembered Eddie saying something about shooting paint, this must have been what he was referring to.
Eddie walked over to the boys, who were still milling about in silence. Steve, unsure what he was about to do, approached the group. Just as he was doing so, Eddie shot Mike in the chest.
Mike stumbled back a bit, reeling, as a giant pink splatter had miraculously appeared on his chest. "What the fuck?" he asked, astounded, turning to Eddie. "What was that for?"
"That was for being a horrible friend. And this," he said, shooting Dustin and Lucas with his paintball gun, leaving both of them confusing and stained, "was for learning nothing from our spring campaign."
"What?" Dustin half-yelled.
"Does Bristre Morningturn not ring a bell? The gay knight who saved your ass in the battle Drynsos, who you swore you'd protect with your life?" When nobody responded, he continued. "No? How about Ziddolia Sharpblade? Or Paefitty Idero? Or, most fucking importantly, Will the Wise? Who is not some fictional NPC here to teach you tolerance, but in fact, a party member, and a real-life friend of yours with real-life emotions?"
His anger was barely contained, at this point, and Steve's eyes searched his face for any sign of a sinister intentions.
But then, just as he was boiling over, as if in defiance of Steve, Eddie took a deep in, and out, untensing his muscles and letting his face form a small smile.
"Look, this is Henderson's birthday. I didn't come her with the intention to make a scene. But, seeing as I have, for good reason, let's make a little agreement. Everyone acknowledges that Will is gay, no-one denies it or tries to forget it, and you all still keeps inviting him to your little sleepovers and pool parties and whatever else you teens are into, because you know Will and you know he's a good person and his sexuality doesn't change that. Can all of you agree to those terms?"
The boys mumbled vague agreements, which lead Eddie to bring his hand up to his ear and say, "Come again?"
Their agreements were louder, this time.
"Great!" Eddie replied, "Let's get this game of paintball started then, shall we? Will, catch." And with that, he gently tossed the paintball gun to Will, who fumbled while catching it, but ultamitely kept it from dropping. And Eddie made his way back to his car, presumably to get the rest of the supplies.
Steve's mind was reeling as he walked up to Eddie, and simply said "You need any help?"
Eddie shrugged. "Not really."
Steve nodded, trying to look insightful. In truth, the biggest thing on his mind right know was how little he knew about the other boy.
"So," he began, "You seem awfully..." he searched for the word, but couldn't quite find it, settling on "invested. In these sorts of things."
Eddie narrowed his eyes at Steve, just slightly, like he was searching for something. After a moment, though, the searching stopped, and his goofy demeanor came back. "What do you mean?"
Steve shivered despite himself. See, that's what he was saying. Eddie, in a metter of moments, could go from angry to lighthearted, from shrewd to careless. It did awful things to Steve's stomach.
"Just..." he began, "I mean, I didn't know you and Will were that close. You got very... you got angry."
Eddie scoffed at that. "So me and Will have to be close for me to not want him to be bullied?"
"Woah," Steve said, stepping back and raising his hands, "Not what I meant. Nobody wants Will to be bullied. Nobody was even bullying Will."
"Right," Eddie replied, in a sarcastic drawl.
"I'm just... I'm not trying to be mean, or anything." Steve told him "I was just curious. You know, that was... jerkish teenage boy shit. They would've sorted it out eventually. What's got you all riled up?"
Eddie gave him a sugary-sweet smile, edging into venomous. "I'm not "riled up", Harrington. You haven't seen me riled up. And if I were you, I'd stop sticking my nose in places they don't belong."
With that, and having properly prepared the equipment, he grabbed the duffel bag, closed the trunk of the car, and pushed past Steve, walking over to the boys. Steve watched him as he left.
"Okay," Eddie began, dumping the bag in front of the group of four, "We'll split up into teams of six, with Steve and I on seperate teams, of course." He then glanced over his shoulder, at the boy in question. "Harrington!" he called out. "Are you coming, or what?"
Steve set his jaw. What a two faced, slimy-- "Yea, I'm coming." He said, walking over to where Eddie and the boys were standing.
The game of paintball was surprisingly fun, all things considered. Steve was on a team with Will and Mike, while Eddie was with Dustin and Lucas. Each person had a paintball gun, and a "base". Dustin started off explaining a plethora of rules, but as the game progressed, and it became more and more clear nobody was sticking to them, it devolved into a game lacking tactics and based on whim.
Steve, covered in paint and having stripped his polo long-sleeve top when it got wet and far too heavy, was in his under-shirt and panting heavily as he hid behind a tree. He could hear shrieking in the distance-- Mike and Will, probably getting ambushed by the younger two boys. Which left just one threat: Eddie Munson.
When they began the game, Steve tried not to target Eddie, or anything bullying-adjacent like that. Just because he was holding a private grudge against the guy doesn't mean he has to externalize that grudge, it would be kind of weird if he did. But after a long game with a lot of indiscriminate paint fired from both sides, all Steve wanted to do was get one good hit on the other boy. Just one. So here he was stalking in the woods, trying his best to catch Eddie off guard.
It seemed unlikely, however, as he heard the snap of branches under shoes, and the boy calling out, in a sing-song voice: "Harrington!" There was a pause, and then the snap of some more branches, closer this time, and Eddie rumbled: "You can't hide forever, man."
And while Steve might've liked to, with they way Eddie's voice an octave lower was affecting his stomach, he knew he couldn't. Quickly, he jumped out from behind the tree and shot in the vague direction he'd heard the voice coming from. He emerged to see Eddie, hair and general body wet with paint, paintball gun in hand, laughing. It was then that Steve realized: he'd missed. He cursed, and tried to shoot again, but was met with a hollow clicking noise. Eddie gasped overdramatically.
"Oh no, Harrington. Looks like you're out of amo. Now, let's think..." He lifted his paintball gun to be level with Steve's chest. "Should I shoot you now, or let you run for it?" He grinned viciously. "Either way, you know you've lost. But I suppose I could give you a heard st--" Just as he was pondering on this, Steve tackled him to the ground.
In all honesty, he didn't know why he did it. He didn't really have a good aim, anyway. He seemed to only win when fights got up-close and personal. Maybe that was his logic and he grabbed Eddie and shoved him into the dirt.
The two boys wrestled each other with the gun between them for several seconds, before Steve, having landed somewhat on top, finally got leverage, and settled into a position that he would never admit was essentially straddling the other boy's hips. He then grabbed the paintball gun from between them and held it tight, aiming it right at Eddie's chest. The two boys stayed in those same positions for a while, both panting, before Steve finally formed a coherent thought.
"So," he said to Eddie, who was staring up at him with wide, wide eyes, "Any last words?"
After a couple of seconds of shock, Eddie broke out into a grin. "You don't want to shoot me, Harrington."
"Oh yea?" Steve replied, "And why's that?"
"Because paintball is a range activity and it's dangerous to shoot another person at this proximity."
Steve scoffed. "Like I'm going to believe that."
"Look, you choose what you want to believe," Eddie said, and Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "I just don't want to end up in the hospital on Dustin's birthday."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You're laying it on real thick here, Munson."
"Am I?"
Steve didn't answer, instead pulling the trigger. And... again, there was that hollow click. No ammo.
Steve gasped, a little more than he'd like to admit. "You rat bastard!" He exclaimed, and Eddie laughed, using that moment of distraction to roll forward, tipping Steve over onto his back with an oof and landing so that Eddie, still in between Steve's legs, was on top of the other boy, arms bracketting Steve's head.
"Yea?" he said, "And what are you doing about it?"
Steve stared into Eddie's dark brown eyes for a solid ten seconds before they heard someone pointedly clearing their throat.
Both boys' heads turned to see the gang of teens, covered from head to toe in paint, and just kind of... standing there, awkward.
"Henderson!" Steve said, scrambling out from under Eddie, "Having a fun birthday?"
"Yea..." Dustin responded, expression unreadable (at least, to Steve).
There was a pause.
"We were just wondering if we could go to your house, Steve, since we're all paintball'd out." Lucas says, eager to break the tension.
"Sure," Steve said, brushing himself off. "Eveyone give your gear back to Eddie and we'll pack up." He turned to Eddie, who was already on his feet as well “Sound good?” The other boy nodded.
As the kids packed up, Steve realized something that shouldn't have been surprising, really. They all seemed happy. Even Will, the more timid one of the group, had a smile on his face as he gave Eddie his paintball gun back, and laughed when Dustin made a joke too immature to repeat. Steve couldn't help but grin. It wasn't half bad.
That is, of course, when Eddie Munson had to ruin everything.
"Hey Henderson," He said, as he closed the trunk to the back of his busted up car, "Catch." And tosses Dustin the car keys.
At first, everyone is confused, before Steve put the pretty obvious two and two together and started ranting. "No, no, no. Not ever, Munson. You are not letting Dustin drive your car."
At that, Dustin perks up. "I get to drive your car?" He asked, giddy with delight.
Eddie says, to Dustin, "If you like," and then, to Steve, "it is my car."
"I don't care, he is a child, and--"
"Oh come on Harrington, it's his sweet sixteen. Let him live a little."
Steve opened his mouth to say something along the lines of "never in a million years", but Dustin's expression caught his eye. He looked so excited, so... hopeful. After a good ten seconds of Steve debating it, he finally sighed. "Fine, fine. On the condition that I'm there as a watchful eye. Munson, you can drive my car back." He fumbled around in his pocket before pulling out his keys out and tossing them to the other boy, who caught them easily.
Dustin let out a laugh of glee, punching the air with the hand still gripping the car keys. "Yes!" he said, delighted, "You won't regret this, Harrington."
"Well, even if I do, I won't be the one paying for a new car." He replied, trying to cover his own happiness up through being snide.
All of the boys wanted to be in the car with Dustin, which lead Steve to be in shotgun and the three of them crammed in the back once more. Eddie waved to Steve as he hopped into the driver's seat of the other boy's car, and Steve muttered "He better not leave a scratch."
Dustin laughed -whether it was at Steve or just the sheer thrill of the situation, Steve wasn't sure- and twisted the key in place, starting the engine.
The car ride there was slow and with a lot of sudden stops, as any time Dustin went even close to the speed limit or approached a red light or a stop sign, Steve would yell "Brakes!" Despite this, and all things considered, Dustin did quite well navigating the tiny, twisting roads of Hawkins. They arrived at Steve's house without a hitch.
The boys, laughing and talking over one another like everything was normal (which Steve supposed it was, if they thought it was), climbed out of the car, Dustin tossing Eddie his car keys and Eddie tossing Steve his.
Steve stopped the boys before they reached the front door.
"Woah woah woah, if you guys think that I'm about to let you track all that paint inside the house, you're dead wrong."
"You said we were allowed to hang out at your place." Lucas retorted.
"Yes, and you will be able to." Steve paused, "After you get hosed down." He was met with an eruption of complaints. "I don't want to hear it, okay? You're either washing yourself off like big boys, or going home."
That shut them up.
A few minutes later, when Steve got a stack of towels out from the house, he set up the hose and gestured for a nearby Eddie Munson to come over to him.
'I figure you'd like to do the honors.' he told the other boy, holding out the hose like an olive branch.
Eddie blinked. "What?" he asked.
"To spray down the boys." Steve clarified.
"Why on earth would I want to do that?"
That caught Steve off guard.
"I-- uh-- I don't know. You seemed to like shooting them with paint earlier." He cringed at his own words.
"I didn't do it because I liked it, I did it to teach them a lesson."
"Okay, I just--"
"Do you think I like to inflict pain, Harrington?" Eddie asked, eyeing the other boy up and down.
Yes. Maybe. "No, I just--"
"You can do whatever you'd like with your little posse of teens. I don't care." With that, Eddie turned around and left Steve's general viscinity.
Fuck.
About fifteen minutes and six clean individuals later, the group of them were hanging in the living room, debating on what movie to watch.
"Really?" Mike whined, "You don't have any horror movies?"
Steve shrugged, raising his can of beer to his lips. "They're just not that entertaining." From the opposite side of the room, he could see Eddie make a point of rolling his eyes. Steve made a point of ignoring him.
"How about..." Dustin trailed off, looking over his collection of VHS tapes, "The Breakfast Club? Steve, that came out, like, a year ago, how do you already have it?"
Steve shrugged again. "It's one of my favorite movies, why wouldn't I have it?" A couple seconds later, he notices Eddie staring at him. Not giving him a deathglare, or anything just... staring.
"What, Munson? What is it?" Steve asked.
"The Breakfast Club is you favorite movie." He deadpanned.
"Yes?" Steve asked, confused, and Eddie laughed.
"Y'know, Harrington, I don't think you could be more of a stereotype if you tried. Next you'll be telling me Tears for Fears is your favorite band." Steve sneered at him. Tears for Fears may have been one of his favorite bands, but he didn't need to tell Eddie that. No point adding fuel to the fire.
"Harold and Maude?" Lucas asked, confused, and Steve shook his head.
"You wouldn't like it," he said, "It's very... grim. Not cool grim, either, depressing grim-- Look, can we just settle on Star Wars and call it a day? Otherwise, we're going to spend all of late afternoon looking for a movie we can agree on."
"Depends," Dustin cut in, which was only fair, "A New Hope, or The Empire Strikes Back?"
"We have both. And the third one."
Dustin scoffed. "We're not watching the third one."
Steve laughed, "Okay, jeez. The birthday boy's got some opinions on Star Wars."
"All nerds do." Eddie responded dully. Steve smiled despite himself.
"We'll watch A New Hope First, that way maybe we can watch the second if we have time." Dustin decided.
"Yea," Steve said, "Don't you guys have curfews?"
"Well," Mike began, "All our parents trust you, Steve. I'm sure that if we called home, they'd let us sleepover." He paused. "Just maybe we, uh, don't tell them Eddie's with us."
Eddie threw his arms in the air. "You get accused of murder one time."
"Does that sound like a plan?" Dustin asked, hopeful.
Steve sighed, but nodded. "Okay, yea, sounds like a plan." And that was that.
* * *
It was late by the time the kids got to bed. Even though half of them had fallen asleep during the second half of The Empire Strikes Back, they didn't fail to whine that they should be able to stay up until at least midnight. Steve said eleven. They settled for midnight, because Steve's a sucker.
It was only when all the boys were settled and passed out in the guest room, around one in the morning, that a yawning Eddie Munson let Steve know he'd be heading out.
"What?" Steve asked, trying to stifle a yawn of his own, "You look worn out, man. Shouldn't be driving. You'll probably hit a squirrel or something."
Eddie laughed tired, though his eyes were closing as they spoke. "A squirrel? In that case, I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Y'know what I mean, Munson. Look, just-- we have a pack of spare toothbrushs, and you can change into some of my pajamas."
Eddie gasped. "Harrington," he drawled, in what Steve half-muddled brain was fairly certain was an imitation of a Southern Belle, "And here I was thinking you didn't like me."
"I don't, really," Steve replied, "But I don't hate you, either. And I certainly don't have a death wish on your behalf, which is why I'm suggesting you don't drive while fatigued."
Eddie huffed, and, after a moment, replied. "Fine, fine. If you insist." He then gestured theatrically up the stairs. "Lead the way."
Steve rolled his eyes, but followed his request and walked up the stairs all the same.
The two of them made their way to Steve's room, where Eddie made a beeline for the record player.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked, though he might've been too tired to care.
"Taking a look at your music taste," Eddie replied, as if it was obvious, which it might've been. He sorted through the records on the bookshelf beneath the player quickly but gently, obviously careful not to break any. "Cyndi Lauper, Madonna-- I didn't know you were such a girly guy, Harrington."
"Yea, yea." Steve mumbled, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it in the laundary basket as Eddie continued prattling on.
"Depeche Mode," he continued, "ACDC-- those aren't actually half bad-- and of course..." He made a point of pulling the album out of the bookshelf and turning around with it. "Tears for Fears..." he trailed off as he faced Steve, who felt his face grow hot.
"What?" Steve asked, hoping he wasn't blushing. Not that he would be, it's just, when a guy's looking at you like that, how could you not blush?
"You’re shirtless." Eddie states, voice and expression both unreadable.
"Yea," Steve replied, "I'm getting changed, what's it to you?" He turned around to grab his pajama top and definitely not to hide his face. Definitely.
"Nothing," Eddie said, casual, "nothing I haven't seen before, anyway. You just should warn a guy next time."
Steve laughed. "Yea I'll be sure to do that, Munson." When he got his pajama top on, he turned around, and said, "Now, I'm going to change my pants, too. Significant enough warning, or would you rather leave?"
"I would, actually," Eddie said, "But I believe I was offered a pair of pajamas of my own?"
"Oh yea, " Stever replied, bending down to rifle through his other pairs of pajamas, and then, when he found a suitable pair, standing up and handing them to Eddie. "Here you go. The t-shirt's the most oversized one I have, y'know, since you're... taller." That made Eddy smile, which made Steve's stomach churn again. Seriously, something has to be wrong with him.
But Eddy just responded with a quiet, "Thanks", taking the pajamas and walking to Steve's bathroom.
Steve continued to get changed, trying not to think too hard about how weird the silence felt.
When Eddie came out of the bathroom, he was glaring at Steve, who couldn't help but surpress a laugh.
"Harrington," he began, "What the hell is this?" he gestured to his entire outfit, which consisted of the a light blue tshit and the smallest pair of shorts Steve had ever seen on a person .
"What," Steve replied, innocently, "not a fan of pastels?"
"You said they were "oversized"."
"I said the shirt was oversized.'
Eddie let out a loud breath, then just shook his head. "Y'know what?" he said, "Fine. I've been in more emasculating positions." That made Steve laugh as he gestured towards the bed.
"You going to sleep, or what?" he asked.
"Do you not have another guest room?"
Steve shook his head. "My parents are rich, but not two guest rooms rich."
"Right, right. They're just never around at their house with an awesome pool rich."
"Exactly," Steve replied. "So I figured you'd get my bed and I'd sleep on the floor."
Eddie looked offended. "Sorry," he asked, "What?"
"I figured--"
'Yea, no, I heard you, Harrington. I was just... I'm the guest, okay? I'll sleep on the floor."
Steve shook his head. Jeez, this guy is difficult. "You're the guest," he replied, "Which is all the more reason you should get the bed."
Eddie shook his head. "You know full well I'm ready..." he yawned, "...to argue about this all night. But I don't think I can. If you choose to be a stubborn prick then fine, I'll take the bed."
Steve nodded as Eddie got into his bed, walking out to the bathroom to brush his teeth (the sight of Eddie’s toothbrush in the holder making him feel rather strange), then to the hall closet to get a blanket and some pillows for him to sleep with. By the time he got back, Eddie's breathing had evened out. He took a second to look at the other boy as he arranged his sleeping situation. Without a goofy smile or a sinister narrowing of the eyes, Eddie appeared... peaceful. Like everything they'd been through, every trip to the upside down, every murder charge, every fight against Vecna, all vanished from existence.
Without even opening his eyes, Eddie spoke.
"I can feel you staring at me, Harrington. Turn the light off and go to sleep."
Steve was sure he blushed at that. Doing as he was told without even a snide comment, he turned the light off, plunging the room into darkness.
* * *
It was an hour later, and Steve still wasn't able to fall asleep.
He'd tried everything-- well, everything that wouldn't wake up his roommate, which meant counting sheep and fuck all else. He rolled over, yet again, trying to find a position that wouldn't hurt his back on the hard, wooden floor.
And low and behold... it didn't work. He let out a soft huff.
"Oh come on Harrington," Eddie croaked from up in Steve's bed, "You're killing me."
Oh, great. Now he's woken the other boy up, too. "I thought you were asleep." He whispered.
"I was, before your huffing and puffing and rolling around woke me up. Look, just come into the bed, okay? It's obvious your floor plan is going nowhere."
"What, and let you sleep on the floor?" Steve replied, "No, that'd be horrible of me."
"I wasn't suggesting I sleep on the floor."
There was a pause, and Steve held his breath. He didn't know why, but for a second or two, he did. Finally, he managed an "Oh."
"It is a sleep-over, after all." Eddie said, like it was no big deal.
"Is it?"
"What else would you call this, Harrington?"
Steve paused again before replying. "I guess this is a sleepover, huh?"
Eddie didn't say anything
A quick debate took place in Steve's head. On one hand, Steve's stomach was going crazy over the idea of sleeping next to a guy like Eddie, and his gut doesn't lie. On the other hand, despite being slightly intimidating, Eddie hadn't done anything wrong that day.
Though Steve was shocked by it at the time, and was by no means something he'd do, the way that Eddie responded to the boys not taking Will coming out well was... admirable. Especially since he then promptly made it up to Dustin by letting him drive his car, as appalled as Steve was at the idea at the time. And nothing went wrong. So, though Eddie's way of logic and reasoning may be different to Steve's, he could definitely see where the other boy way coming from. Which is all to say: Steve was tired of the floor.
His back was stiff, his limbs were cold, and his head hurt. He could deal with sharing a bed with Eddie Munson for one night.
So, without a word, he climbed into bed next to the other boy. The room was silent as he got under the covers, leaving sure to make sufficient room between them. And then, as Steve's head hit the pillow, the room was still.
Sure, his bed now kind of smelled like Eddie, and sure, he could feel the heat radiating off the other boy. But it wasn't so bad, really. It was kind of nice, even.
Eddie Munson, Steve thought as he drifted off. What an odd man. Eddie Munson...