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i. driving
Steve is a good driver. Not the best, but he’s cautious and safe. Parents trust him to cart their brats around, and that’s something he takes pride in.
Truthfully, Steve hadn’t known that Eddie could even drive. He knows that he’d gotten a permit through the school just like Steve had, but he’s fuzzy on the legal details of Eddie actually driving. But halfway through a stolen bottle of tequila, Eddie had admitted that he’d learned to drive out in the abandoned Starcourt parking lot.
Steve rolls over onto his side, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the drag racing track?”
Eddie shrugs like it’s normal to learn driving through drag racing and not from the winding streets of Hawkins’ suburbs. “Yeah, I guess,” he says.
Steve thinks of all the movies he’s seen about racing and imagines Eddie drifting to a stop at the bottom of the parking lot, a gaggle of girls curled up in his sports car, and nearly doubles over laughing. Eddie gives him an unimpressed look.
“With what car?” Steve wheezes.
—
“Holy shit.”
Nancy leans back against the car’s shiny black hood, looking somehow both out of place and perfectly content in her cardigan and buckle-up shoes. She smiles at him.
Eddie brushes past him, smelling like mint and tobacco, and leans back next to Nancy, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “Wheeler’s been kind enough to lend me her car.”
“This is your car?” Steve gapes at her.
Nancy shrugs, dislodging Eddie’s arm. “Well, it’s my mom’s. You know how she’s going through her midlife crisis, right?”
Robin, who’s been quietly admiring the car (and the girl probably), laughs gently.
Steve wrinkles his nose. Sure, he knows about that. It’d been hard to ignore, given how often Hargrove seemed to be around the Wheeler’s neighborhood last year. Nancy scrapes the baby pink polish off her nails sourly. “So,” she finishes, “my car now.”
Eddie grins at him. His hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, his eyes rimmed with dark liner and shimmering in the bright lights of Starcourt’s flickering sign. “It’s not really drag racing, Harrington.” He spreads his arms theatrically. “No hot chicks.”
Nancy laughs. Robin opens her mouth to make a smart comment and thinks better of it at Steve’s panicked look.
“If you want, I’ll take you for a spin,” he continues, holding up his keys and shaking them. They chime against each other listlessly.
“Are you as bad as Mayfield?” asks Steve. He’s being sarcastic, sure, but he really doesn’t want a repeat of last summer.
Eddie bangs his knuckles against the side of the window. Nancy doesn’t seem bothered by this despite Eddie’s chunky silver rings adorning his hand. “Not nearly as reckless,” he says with a smile that means the opposite.
Steve imagines it, perched in the passenger seat of the car. He thinks of Eddie, taking a turn tight enough that Steve has to grip onto the fold-down handlebars. It’s preferable that Eddie’s not doing this with chicks dressed in blinding colors as if that’ll take away from how short their skirts are. Not that Steve’s jealous.
“If I did, I want to do it with Robin,” he says.
“Sure,” says Eddie. He steps forward and unlocks the car over his shoulder, stepping around to open the passenger door. “Your carriage awaits.”
Robin grins and hops over to Nancy, beaming as she helps her into the car. She glances at Steve and gives him two big thumbs up before following Nancy into the backseat. Steve scoffs, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling on his seatbelt with a dark look on his face. Eddie just laughs, those familiar and pretty dimples framing his mouth. “Scared, honey?” he asks.
Steve glares at him. “I’ve never seen you drive and now you’re drag racing.”
“Not drag racing,” Eddie reminds him, sticking the key into the ignition. The car purrs to life, and Steve is suddenly jealous that he’s not the one behind the wheel. “I need hot chicks for it to be that.”
“You have Steve,” says Robin.
“That I do.” Eddie turns to face him and takes his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Steve’s face heats, and he tries to tug his hand back. He hates when Eddie acts like the perfect gentleman.
Eddie flips Steve’s hand over and presses a sloppy kiss to his wrist, teeth scraping across his pulse when Steve gasps. He lets go with a smirk, pulling the gear back into reverse and spinning the wheel.
Steve shrieks as Eddie turns them in a dizzying donut. Robin cackles, “Holy shit!”
Eddie grins, teeth flashing. He looks so handsome like this, in control and pleased. He looks at Steve, tilting his head, and Steve looks away. He grips the seat as Eddie spins them down the first row of the parking lot, swerving around the pillars like a madman.
Steve will admit that he’s good at it. Every motion is in control, but Steve’s body refuses to agree with his brain and his knees knock together as Eddie steps on the gas.
Nancy laughs brightly, careening sideways as Eddie flies them down the next row. Steve tries to relax but it’s sort of impossible with Eddie right next to him with only one hand on the wheel. He palms it all the way to the right, taking them into a narrow turn that makes Steve so nervous his brain function gives out, white noise playing in his ears. He distantly realizes that he’s screaming.
Steve should’ve known that Eddie would drive like this. The man always finds the stupidest and most dangerous way of doing things, but no matter what it is, being around him always makes Steve’s adrenaline spike.
Eddie pulls them down the final row, going so fast that the pillars bleed into one giant screen of concrete grey. Steve shrieks again, hands scrambling for a handhold as Eddie fucking drifts onto the bottom floor, screeching to a halt half a meter away from Steve’s car’s bumper.
“How was that?” he pants. Steve feels faint.
“That was awesome," Robin breathes. "Let’s do it again!”
ii. guitar
The bar smells cheap and sticky. Steve nervously swallows another sip of his beer and tries to ignore everyone around him. Including Robin and Nancy, but they’re too busy chattering to notice Steve’s trepidation.
When he’d agreed to come see Corroded Coffin, it’d been on a whim. Eddie had just kissed him silly, and Steve’s brain hadn’t been all there when he’d asked.
He picks at the front of his shirt, the only black polo he owns. Despite color coordinating with most people at this show, he feels out of place.
It doesn’t help that Steve’s hindbrain is extremely jealous. There are too many pretty people here, and they’re all probably well-versed in metal culture. Steve’s trying his best, but he’s still not entirely sure why Eddie hates Wham! so much.
“—so give it up for Corroded Coffin!” someone onstage yells.
Steve’s eyes dart up just fast enough to catch Eddie stepping up to the mic. He looks like sin, all black and wearing a shirt tight enough that the sleeves have crawled up to his shoulders. He’s got a pick between his teeth, and Steve is reminded of when they’d hotwired a Winnebago and Eddie had held the pliers between his teeth, too. The thought has him weak in the knees.
“Hey Hawkins,” Eddie rasps. The crowd goes crazy, the purple lights exposing their excited faces. Eddie grins and takes the pick before he starts to play.
He’s good. Really good. Steve’s heard recordings of him playing, has even seen him play a lick in the safety of his room once or twice, but this is completely different. Eddie croons into the mic, and Steve realizes he’s not the only one head over heels for him.
Eddie’s hips press against his guitar in a way that has Steve flushing and desperately drinking down his remaining beer. Someone screams, and a second later an object goes flying onto the stage.
Robin breaks down into laughter. “You’ve got some competition, Steve,” she laughs. Nancy takes a prim sip of beer to hide her smile.
It takes Steve a moment to realize that someone had thrown a bra onstage, and the realization is honestly more funny than anything else. What’s Eddie going to do with a bra, anyways?
Eddie sings the final line of a song and breathes into the mic. It sends shivers up Steve’s arms. Eddie laughs breathlessly and glances down at the bra.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, “but my girl doesn’t wear a bra.” There’s laughter at that. Steve buries his red face into his hands.
Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, I’m sure the bar will keep it for you until you’re sober enough to get it. We’ve got one more song for you tonight.”
It’s not a song Steve knows, but he enjoys it nonetheless. Eddie looks up at him and winks. Steve smiles back, the backs of his hands tingling.
When Corroded Coffin is done, Steve doesn’t let Eddie get anywhere close to his groupies. He sidles up to him, unsure but aching, and looks up at him. He doesn’t want to embarrass Eddie but he wants everyone to know he’s taken, or at least he wants these girls to know. Eddie surprises him by leaning down and kissing his cheek.
“Anything for my fans,” he says before he’s swept away.
Steve watches him go, open mouthed. Nancy carefully steps closer to him, nudging his shoulder, and he snaps it shut. “You know,” she says, “I think it’s sweet that you’re doing this for him.”
“I dunno,” says Steve, because he really doesn’t. He wants to say he doesn’t have ulterior motives but truthfully he just wants Eddie to like him and to feel comfortable talking and sharing with him.
“Hey,” she calls. He glances down at her. “You… you’re a good guy, Steve. You both deserve each other.”
He looks at her. She looks away quickly, and he’s afraid he’s done something wrong for a second, but she just laughs and reaches up on her toes to ruffle his hair.
Steve manages to sneak his way into the backstage a couple minutes later. Eddie is leaning up against the wall across from the entrance like he’d been waiting for Steve. He grins and tugs Steve against it when he sees him, swapping their positions.
“Looks like my stalker followed me back here too,” he teases.
Steve glares at him, though it fades when Eddie kisses him. Eddie laughs, licking into his mouth and running his tongue over Steve’s teeth. Steve clutches Eddie’s shirt, ruining it with how tight he’s holding it, but Eddie just presses closer and keeps kissing him.
When they pull apart, he’s grinning. “Thanks for coming, baby.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Steve grins back.
iii. dnd
Dustin is gaping at him, so Steve gives him the finger. The kid glances at the stairs, where Eddie had gone up to grab something from Steve’s car, and scuttles over to Steve. “When you picked us up, I thought you were leaving after,” he says.
“Why?” Steve shoots back. “Are you embarrassed?”
Dustin rolls his eyes. “Duh. You’re uncool, haven’t you heard?”
Eddie’s boots stamp against the stairs and the boys spring apart, guiltily looking away from him. He raises an eyebrow but sits down at the head of the table anyway.
Steve’s been dropping the kids off at D&D for what must be closing on a year now, but he’d never bothered to stay for a session. Part of him still thought it was lame and nerdy, but it was a bigger and more pressing matter that Steve would be embarrassing either the kids, Eddie, or both.
What did he know, anyway? He was a movie store employee who had peaked in high school, too worried about popularity to see what really mattered.
“Harrington!” Eddie calls. Steve looks up. “Come sit, I’ll show you how this works.”
When Steve had decided that he wanted to learn more about Eddie’s interests, it was more out of panic than anything else. After all, there were plenty of people who were smarter, deigned to listen to metal, and actually played D&D. Eddie was scraping the bottom of the barrel with Steve.
Eddie drags him over and grabs him a chair. He leans close, looking up at Steve with big, dark eyes, and says, “Thanks for coming.”
Steve smiles, titling his head as he looks at Eddie. Eddie’s eyes widen and he makes a panicked sound before turning back to the boys.
Steve’s fuzzy on the rules, but he has to admit it’s fun to watch Mike Wheeler break down over imaginary zombies. Eddie’s called the DM, or dungeon master. He creates scenarios and the players play through them. Steve learns this from Will, who sweetly narrates everyone’s moves for the first half of the game.
Under the table, Eddie places his hand on Steve’s thigh. Steve relaxes, tipping his head to the side to look at him. Eddie grins at him.
“Can you guys stop flirting? Seriously, this is why I didn’t want Steve here,” Dustin whines.
“Is that so? I remember you being very happy when Harrington agreed,” Eddie hums nonchalantly. Dustin blushes.
Eddie leads the party into a marsh, telling them the monster they have to kill is on the other side. Almost immediately, Mike gets pulled into the water by vines and the kids frantically come up with a plan. Mike just sits on the side, irritably rolling the dice along the table. The kids are too busy arguing to complain when Steve leans over and asks Eddie, “How come there are so many dice?”
Eddie blinks. “Ah. Well, the one with twenty sides is to check if an action succeeds. The other ones check for damage and stuff.”
Steve nods and says, “That makes sense. But all the dice look the same. Isn’t it better to have them be different colors?”
“You get used to looking for the dice you need, sweetheart,” Eddie explains, “but they’re not different colors because they’re part of a set. Most people like to collect sets.”
“Do you?” asks Steve. “Collect, I mean.”
“Nah,” Eddie laughs, leaning against the back of his chair. His hand tightens over Steve’s thigh as if he’s grounding himself with it. “I just collect the random ones I find. I don’t think I’ve got a matching set.” He gestures to the dice on the table. “These are Henderson’s.”
Steve mentally reminds himself to look for a full set of dice for Eddie’s birthday. “Thanks for teaching me,” he says.
Eddie tips his chair back down and leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You’re an angel,” he says. “Always so good to me.”
Steve can’t help the swoop of his stomach at that. When he’s with Eddie he feels whole, like part of him had been lost and Eddie hadn’t exactly found it but made another better part to replace it. Steve hadn’t been a nice person to him back in high school, but for some reason he’s giving him a second chance. He’s determined not to waste it.
Dustin coughs, “We’re ready to continue.”
Steve tries to follow what’s happening but he gets lost without Will’s narration so he ends up turning his head onto Eddie’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He can feel the vibration of his voice from where he’s pressed against his throat. It lulls him into a soft sleep, where he dreams of Starcourt.
He’s not working, but for some reason he’s wearing his Scoops Ahoy uniform. Eddie is already by his side, relentlessly teasing him about it.
“You look like you could put some wind in my sails, if you know what I mean,” he giggles.
Steve rolls his eyes and bites down on his lip to keep from laughing. He doesn’t comment when Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s back pocket.
When he wakes up, the boys are packing up. Eddie gently helps him hold his head up and says, “Hey, sunshine. We’re all done, d’ya think you can drive?”
“Yeah,” Steve slurs. Eddie kisses him on the cheek.
The cold night air does wonders to Steve’s endocrine system, and he’s awake enough to drive the kids home. Eddie climbs into the passenger seat and smirks. “Maybe I can drive next time,” he says.
“Never again,” Steve replies.
“What!” Dustin shouts. “Eddie can drive? How come you never told me!”
“Because it’s not true,” says Max.
“You’re lying!”
“She’s right,” says Eddie, turning around in his seat and Steve puts the car into drive, “I can’t legally drive.”
“Then how come Steve—”
“Boyfriends get special privileges,” Steve tells him to annoy him.
“Hey!”
“Only cute boyfriends get to go on joyrides with me,” proclaims Eddie.
“More like fearrides.”
“Shut it.”
+ i. swimming
As far as Eddie knows, Steve hasn’t gone swimming in his pool since his junior year. Barbra Holland died there, so it makes sense. Eddie’s sure that Steve is still carrying around that guilt.
It’s not that Eddie wants Steve to swim. Steve can do whatever the fuck he wants, even if it’s grill hot dogs by the patio as he’s currently doing. But Steve’s gone out of his way to make Eddie feel comfortable, from agreeing to let him drive him to coming to Friday D&D sessions.
Eddie heaves himself out of the pool, sitting on the side of it and preening as Steve starts to gawk at him. Steve looks cute wearing too-short shorts and a tank top. Eddie will eagerly admit that he loves it when Steve looks at him like that, like all his brain has melted out of his ears and all he can focus on is Eddie. It’s adorable in a stupid way, and yeah, it makes Eddie want to fuck him.
“Please stop looking at him like that,” Robin begs. She floats by, her arms slung over a donut floatie.
“He’s my boyfriend, I can look at him however I want,” Eddie says with a grin.
“There are children present,” Robin says tartly.
Eddie shrugs. Steve is serving Max food, leaning down to talk to her quietly. He’s good with kids. Eddie knows it’s a running joke that the kids see him as their mom, but it’s honestly sweet how obviously he cares for them.
“D’ya think he still likes swimming?” he asks.
“Probably,” says Robin.
A few minutes later when Steve calls them for food, Eddie’s got a plan. He dries himself off and ties his hair up in a bun, grabbing a paper plate and hip-checking Steve so he can serve himself. “Hey,” he says as he takes two hot dogs. “Do you want to swim with me?”
“Uh,” says Steve.
“You don’t have to. I just know you were captain of the swim team, so I was hoping to see some of that talent,” he teases.
Steve blushes. That’s another thing. Steve’s parents must’ve not spent enough time with him (as evidenced by the empty house) or didn’t congratulate him on his accomplishments because Steve lights up at the smallest praise. It makes Eddie’s heart hurt, seeing how happy he gets. Steve is just… good. A good person. He takes care of everyone and takes an active interest in their hobbies. Eddie remembers Steve’s shocked face among a crowd of metalheads and dips his head, grinning.
“Alright,” Steve relents.
Eddie sets his plate on the table and grabs Steve’s hand. “Let’s go then.”
“N-now?!” Steve sputters but he’s already tugging him towards the water. Steve lets Eddie manhandle him out of his tank top with minimal blushing before Eddie slides into the water, doggy paddling.
Steve laughs. “Did you ever learn to swim?”
“Nope! That’s why I need you to teach me.”
With a shake of his head, Steve carefully sits on the edge and dips his feet into the pool. Eddie swims up to him, keeping himself afloat by putting his arms over the ledge. “Hey,” he says, “if this is too much you don’t have to do it.”
“It’s okay,” whispers Steve. He drops into the water with hardly a splash, resurfacing with his hair plastered back.
Eddie laughs, “Atta boy.” He leads Steve closer to the center, watching for any signs of anxiety. Steve’s lip wobbles like he’s going to cry, but he just breathes deep and follows after Eddie. He swims circles around him, relaxing slowly.
“The water is nice,” he says. Eddie swims closer and clutches his shoulders, tugging him into a kiss that tastes of chlorine and smoke. Steve giggles, jabbing his fingers into Eddie’s side, but it quickly turns to a breathy moan when Eddie pulls away to start marking up his neck. He scrapes his teeth against Steve’s thundering pulse and delights in the kick of his boyfriend’s legs underwater.
“Cannonball!” Robin screeches. Water splashes up around them and Steve laughs, paddling away from Eddie on his back to drag Robin underwater.
Steve resurfaces ten minutes later, dripping water onto the patio and grinning so broadly it must hurt. He towels himself off and sits down on the chair next to Eddie. “Thanks,” he says quietly.
“Nothing to thank me for, sweetheart.” He takes Steve’s hand and rubs his thumbs over his knuckles. “I love you.”
Steve looks up, mouth cherry red and kissable. “Me too,” he says. “I love you too.”