Chapter Text
October 1985
The first time Robin says it, it’s a joke. ( He’s sure it’s a joke. )
Steve had been lamenting the fact that none of his recent dates had panned out into something more, something extra —that special someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Why was it so difficult to find the right woman?
Robin raised one of those sardonic eyebrows at him, and quipped, “Maybe it has nothing to do with not finding the right woman? Maybe you should be looking for the right guy?”
Rolling his eyes, Steve hadn’t even bothered with giving her teasing any kind of response.
Her "joke" rears its head again on a Tuesday when Steve is by himself at the Family Video, replacing returned movies to their rightful spots in the racks, and debating if he should ask Jennifer or Stephanie out first. They're both fairly equal prospects—enrolled in college, good families, pretty, lots of friends, they both like to have fun. Sighing halfway through his thoughts, Steve slams a movie back into the rack a bit more forcefully than necessary, and pushes the cart on to the next section.
He's bored. That's the issue. Every single girl he's met and dated lately seems to be cut from the same cloth. Like there's a factory of "Girls Steve is Likely to Date", and they all just roll off the assembly line.
Except that's not true, not entirely. Robin had seemed like the absolutely perfect girl for him, until it became clear those feelings would only ever go in one direction. And that's worked out for the best, in the end. Steve has this amazing best friend he'd never quite counted on, and he honestly wouldn't trade that for the world.
It brings him right back to his issue, though. The impossibility of finding the right woman.
"Maybe you should be looking for the right guy?" He mimics to himself in a poor imitation of Robin's voice, and rolls his eyes at the thought.
Not that Steve has any more issue with guys liking guys than he does with Robin liking girls. It's just that he loves women, always has. He loves their soft lips, and their curves, their giggles, and the floral scent of their perfume. It's not like he's ever looked at a guy and thought, damn, he's hot . Okay, yes , the members of Duran Duran are attractive dudes, but Steve mostly just appreciates their hair and their style, especially John Taylor, and especially around the Rio period, though Seven and the Ragged Tiger wasn't so bad, either. But wanting to emulate how some guy looks, and wanting to date him, are two entirely different things in Steve's book. He and Taylor both have really great hair, and that’s what matters.
Hearing the door to the store open, Steve hastily tosses the last few videos onto the rack, ignoring the fact that they’re completely out of order, runs a quick hand through his hair, and steps out into the aisle to assist his latest customer. After all, even if he does tend to strike out more often than not in this job, there’s always a chance that the love of his life could walk through the Family Video door, and straight into his heart.
And first impressions are everything.
The welcoming smile he dons immediately settles into a grimace though at the sight of Hawkins resident freak, Eddie Munson, standing just inside the door, head tilted absurdly to the side as he stares at the standee for Commando . Steve hasn't really seen him since graduating—it’s not as if they travel in the same social circles—though ever since the school year has begun, Dustin has been talking about the freak nonstop . It’s annoying. Steve had spent the better part of his high school career avoiding the guy at all costs, and now he has to hear his name mentioned almost daily all because of a stupid fantasy game.
Quite honestly, Steve’s a little wary of Munson exerting any kind of influence over the kid. Dustin has a tendency to be a bit too impressionable when it comes to people who are nice to him, and apparently the freak has been nice to him, which has Steve on full alert.
“You can relax, Harrington, I’m not going to run out the door with Arnie here.”
Steve blinks, frowns, and pushes the empty cart into its space behind the counter, pretending to be busy. He’s not quite certain what to say. He tries to think back, and he can’t recall a single moment in high school that he and Eddie Munson had ever said a word to one another, even when they’d shared some classes during Steve’s senior year. Of course, Eddie would’ve had to have actually attended those classes, which he usually didn’t, but still. They’d never had a reason to make small talk.
“I hear it’s a good movie,” Steve finally says, as he sits down in front of the computer. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Eddie moves toward the horror section. It’s not as if he’s worried about the guy shoplifting anything—except for that time during his freshman year when Eddie had actually disappeared off to juvenile hall for a few days specifically due to shoplifting. It had been the talk of the school for a week.
“Not really my thing.” Eddie disappears from Steve’s view as he crouches down toward the lower racks.
Steve quietly leans out from around the monitor, trying to catch sight of Eddie, even as he thinks how bizarre it feels to suddenly be having an actual conversation with the guy. There’s a brief glimpse of dark hair, and then Eddie pops back into view and Steve almost falls off the stool in his attempt to hide back behind the monitor before being caught. As Eddie walks past, he notes one movie in his hand, but can’t see the title.
Grabbing a stack of inventory papers, Steve slips off the stool and leans against the counter, glancing over the numbers and titles, but not really seeing them as he watches Eddie stop in front of the candy rack. He seems to weave in front of the selection, a constant flurry of activity that Steve actually finds a little exhausting to watch. It brings to mind some of Eddie's antics in school; he'd always been too loud, too hyper, too… sure of himself.
“Keep watching me like that and you’re gonna owe me dinner, darling.”
Steve startles at the comment, pushing back from the counter as Eddie suddenly leans into his space, chin in hand, smiling broadly. He's set the movie, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a box of Good & Plenty, and a bag of microwave popcorn on the counter next to him.
"I wasn't—" Steve begins to deny, but Eddie flashes him a look of sheer disbelief, and Steve ends up shrugging in acceptance. He grabs the candy to start ringing it up.
"So, I guess we have a mutual acquaintance," Eddie says as he rocks back and forth slightly where he's still leaning on the counter, as if there's too much energy circulating through him to stay still. Steve's alternately fascinated and annoyed. "Who'd a thunk it, man?"
Steve sure wouldn't have, and just shakes his head in response, not really wanting to discuss Dustin. After all, he doubts having a conversation with Eddie Munson about being the right kind of influence would go very far. And god, when did he start sounding like a dad ?
He picks up the movie, experiencing an extreme lack of surprise at the title, The Evil Dead . This guy was like a walking, talking stereotype.
As if guessing at Steve's thoughts, Eddie asks, "Ever seen it?"
"Nah. Not really into horror."
"Fucking classic, man. You should really check it out sometime. Scary ass shit. Sam Raimi is a genius."
Steve has zero idea who Sam Raimi is, and doesn't really care to find out. And anyway, it’s not like he can point out that he’s lived his very own horror movies, thank you very much , and isn’t all that interested in the Hollywood versions. He rings up the total and waits as Eddie removes his wallet from his pocket, chain attached, and hands over bills Steve knows very likely came from a drug sale. Not that he’s judging, or anything. He knows for a fact that most of the parties attended during his high school years were supplied by Eddie Munson, and it’s not as if Steve hadn’t directly benefited from that. He’s not a hypocrite.
Shoving the movie and candy into a plastic bag with Family Video blazed across it, Steve sets it on the counter for Eddie, who takes hold of it with some kind of dramatic flourish, and turns to leave.
Whirling back around unexpectedly, Eddie holds his arms out wide and asks, “Sure you don’t wanna search my pockets before I leave, Harrington?”
Scowling, Steve wads up a nearby discarded receipt and throws it at him.
“Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance,” the freak says before flipping him the bird and walking out the door.
Weirdest. Encounter. Ever .
Sighing, Steve leans onto the counter, and goes back to waiting for the love of his life to come walking through the door.
Two days later, Steve’s picking Dustin up from school, after the kid called in a panic because he’d missed the bus due to getting into a lengthy conversation about time travel with his science teacher at the end of the day. As he clamors into the BMW, dumping a pile of books, his backpack, and what appears to be an almost-empty bag of Cheez-Its onto the floor, Steve reminds him how lucky he is that it’s his day off, or he’d be hoofing it home, and he’d best not get any Cheez-Its crumbs on the interior of his car.
“You’re in a mood,” Dustin comments as he reaches for the discarded crackers, tucking them into a pocket of his backpack.
Actually, yes, he is, but he doesn’t bother explaining the reason why. Jennifer had stood him up the night before, claiming at the last minute that some unexpected family thing had come up, which of course was code for I’ve thought about it and I’m just not that into you . Not that he’d been all that into her , either, but still, it was the principle of the matter.
“Is your mood why you were a dick to Eddie the other day?”
Steve almost slams on the brakes, the unexpected question catches him so completely off-guard. He turns an incredulous expression toward Dustin. “Did he say that?”
“No.” Dustin kicks at the floorboard, not meeting Steve’s gaze. “But, he said you were watching him like he was gonna shoplift or something. He laughed when he said it, but…”
“But?” Steve prompts.
“I could tell it bothered him.”
“You could tell it—?” Steve stops himself and shakes his head. “I seriously doubt anything bothers that dude.”
“That’s ‘cause you don’t know him.”
“And you do?” Steve scoffs, doing his best to keep the tone of annoyance out of his voice that he finds himself feeling lately whenever the topic of Eddie Munson comes up. “Just because he’s pulled you into that weird club of his doesn’t mean you know the guy, Henderson. Anyway, I don’t think he’s the best influence for you.”
Dustin turns a look on him that says, during some point in this conversation, Steve had clearly lost his goddamn mind. “You’re not my mother.”
“Duh.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But if your mother knew the Freak, she’d be saying the same thing.”
“I’m a freak, too, you know, and every time you call him that it’s like, like —”
“You’re not a freak, Henderson. At least, not like Munson. You’re… you’re a cool kind of freak.”
“Well, so is Eddie.”
Steve snorts, but glances at Dustin in time to catch the injured expression on his face and finds himself sighing. “Why is this upsetting you so much?”
“I just—”
The kid kicks at the floorboards again, and looks positively miserable, and Steve hates seeing that, which is beyond frustrating because he absolutely knows he’s going to end up caving to whatever Dustin asks of him.
“You’re my friend, and he’s my friend, and what if someday I want you both to— I don’t know —come to my birthday party or something? If you hate him, that's never going to happen.”
“I don’t hate the dude,” Steve argues. “I don’t even—”
Know the guy , he almost says, catching himself from circling back to Dustin’s point, but it’s far too late if the smug expression on the little shit’s face is anything to go by. Steve feels like throwing a tantrum right then and there.
“Fine!” He removes his hands from the steering wheel just long enough to lift them in resignation. “If, by some goddamn chance, I ever come across the Fr—Munson again, I will try to be nice. Does that make you happy?”
“You could always come to our game night on Friday!”
“Don’t push your luck, Henderson.”
For some ridiculous reason—and by this point, Steve’s come to the conclusion the universe is just fucking laughing at him—chance has him running into Eddie Munson again not twenty-four hours after the chat with Dustin.
It’s Halloween, and Steve doesn’t have any parties to go to, no girl to curl up on the couch with and watch movies, so he’s resigned himself to grabbing a couple of bags of candy to have on hand for when Dustin and crew drop by. This is what his life has come to; spending the evening passing out candy and possibly drinking himself into a stupor on what had once been the best night of the year.
He stops at Casey’s, glancing down at his watch as he heads inside, only to collide with someone on their way out. Looking up, he barely refrains from uttering a groan of annoyance over literally running into Dustin’s new bestie. For his part, Eddie starts to apologize, eyes widening as he realizes who just slammed into his shoulder, and frowns instead.
“Oh, it’s you , Harrington,” Eddie comments as if this is some kind of normal thing that happens, the two of them just randomly running into one another on the daily.
Steve doesn’t respond immediately, too distracted by the fact that Eddie’s got a six-pack of Coors under one arm, and a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups clutched in his hand. He’s only slightly mollified by the fact that it appears Eddie is spending Halloween in the same manner he’s planning.
Apparently deciding their interaction is over, Eddie steps past him toward the parking lot, spurring Steve to call after him, “Hey, uh, Munson.”
Eddie turns back, brows disappearing beneath dark, wavy bangs in unchecked curiosity.
“Look, I, uh—” Steve spends the next few seconds wondering if his friendship with Dustin was really worth all of this. He rolls his eyes at the obvious answer, and continues as if he’s being forced to chew on glass, “The other day, if I, uh, came off as kind of, well, uh… I mean, it’s not like I, uh, meant to imply—”
Eddie doubles over laughing before Steve can even finish, providing ample reason as to why everyone calls him a freak.
“Did Henderson get to you, too?” He asks as he straightens, laughter dissolving into a cheeky grin. “Did he hit you with that whole what if he wants us to both come to his birthday party bullshit? Goddamn, I can’t believe you fell for that, Harrington!”
Oh, that little shit .
He says it out loud, which just makes Eddie laugh again, and after a few moments, Steve finds himself cracking a smile, and shaking his head in disbelief as a quick laugh escapes him. “That little shit ,” he says again.
“Hey, man,” Eddie says, shifting the six-pack beneath his arm. “If it makes you feel any better, he had me going too—right up to the birthday party. That’s when it hit me he was just trying to see how far he could push.”
Steve runs a hand of frustration over his face, cursing under his breath, wondering if he should just head into Casey’s and ignore that this ever happened. Except… except even if Henderson had been playing the both of them, Steve still knows he touched a nerve when he referred to Eddie as a freak, and he had made a promise, and dammit, he just hates seeing that kid sad.
“Still, look,” he starts, dropping his gaze to the ground, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I was kind of a dick the other day, and I’ll own that.”
There’s a long moment of silence, and then, “Shit.”
Frowning, Steve lifts his gaze to find Eddie staring back at him, brow furrowed, looking for all the world like he has no idea what had just happened. To be fair, neither does Steve. “What?”
Eddie shrugs, which is kind of a full body motion. “Just, Henderson keeps saying you’re a good dude. Guess he’s not… entirely delusional.”
“Not entirely.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Just, he’s a great kid. So… ya know.”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
The following moments get awkward. Steve just hopes he’s done enough to get Dustin off his back about Eddie Munson. He gives the guy a quick nod. “Well, anyway, enjoy Halloween.”
“What’s not to love?” Eddie spreads his arms wide, six-pack in one hand, bag of peanut butter cups in the other as he steps back out into the parking lot.
Shaking his head slightly, Steve continued into Casey’s, fairly certain that was the second weirdest encounter ever.