Chapter Text
Eddie hated Tommy Hagan. Hated. Capital H, just like the asshole’s name.
He doesn’t really know why he decided to come. Was the money really worth the boring, repetitive music, the laughing that sounded too much like jeering, and the general lack of fun? No, it really wasn’t. But Eddie was saving up for his Uncle’s upcoming birthday. He really wanted to get him something big, something special for once. To repay the old man for… well, everything.
So here he is. Sitting in the darkest corner next to Tommy’s bathroom, like a shark waiting for it’s prey.
Finally, after tedious hours of Duran Duran and hearing his peers laughing at things that weren’t funny, the man of the hours hops over to Eddie’s corner. He’s only had about two other customers, both vaguely cold but professional. Not Tommy H.
“Hey, freak. Hoped you’d be creepin’ around somewhere. At least you’re in the dark where you can’t scare anyone off. Smart.”
Eddie smiled. “Tommy Hagan. Not going to treat your guest to any drinks? No introducing me to your little lady friends over there— oh wait, they’re all fawning over King Steve, better luck next time.”
Tommy scowled. He smelled like shitty beer. The safety corner was starting to get claustrophobic.
“Cut the shit, asshole. We’re not friends.”
“Oh I know,” Eddie nodded solemnly, “It’s one of my favorite things about your kind. You’re honest. What do ya need?”
“I need a discount.”
Eddie blinked. Oh hell no .
“Why,” Eddie elongated the word, “would I give you a discount?”
“Don’t fucking question it. I need an ounce.”
“Uh, and how much do you have?”
“Thirty-five.”
Oh, fuck no.
That wasn’t even covering regular cost, much less the asshole fee.
Yes, Eddie Munson was biased, sue him. Well don’t, he doesn’t have the money for it. But he had a rule. If people were an asshole to him, to the other freaks and nerds at school, they paid $5 extra. It helped him keep his sanity, really, and he didn’t have much left of that.
“Sorry, no can do.”
Tommy looked offended. “Fuck you mean, freak? I’ve been buying off’ah you the whole goddamn year, do you want that to stop?”
“No,” Eddie said slowly, pushing away Tommy, whose beer breath was starting to make Eddie nauseous, “But I don’t do discounts. Not even for people who aren’t assholes, so—“
“Are you fucking calling me names now, freak? That’s not very mature,” He snickered, “Maybe I should just report you to the cops, hones—“
Eddie took his finger and shoved it into Tommy’s chest, “You even think about calling the cops, it’s done. You can kiss your favorite strain bye-bye, because I’m the only one who’ll sell to a spineless dickhead like you—“
Tommy took him by the shoulders, slamming him against the wall. Trust, it was a position Eddie’s been in one too many times, although usually there’s extremely uncomfortable lockers behind him—
“What the fuck can trailer trash like you do to me, huh freak?!”
—And honestly, this wallpaper was pretty comfortable in comparison—
“Tommaaayyy! Whatcha doin’?!”
Oh, shit no. Damn. He was running out of curses.
Steve Harrington stumbled right into Tommy’s back. A very, very drunk Steve Harrington.
Eddie had only really seen him in the halls, surrounded by people, the center of attention while also simultaneously being lost in the sea of identical jocks yelling about who knows what and jumping up and down instead of walking.
Seeing him drunk made Eddie very nervous. Was he a violent drunk? ‘Cuz that could be really bad for the situation he was currently in.
“Whossat?” Steve asked, pointing to Eddie, still being slightly suffocated by Tommy’s arms pressing down on his chest.
“This was my dealer, y’know the Freak Munson. But the goddamn asshole won’t give me what I’m asking for.”
Steve blinked slowly, looking Eddie up and down with a slightly bored expression.
“Oooo-kay? What are ya asking for?”
Tommy grunted, obviously frustrated with Steve’s non-aggravated state. “He won’t give me an ounce, y’know, I’m gettin’ it ‘cuz your folks aren’t home after tomorrow, because I got thirty-five.”
Steve blinked, and damn did it take him a while to process what Tommy had said.
Harrington spoke his next words very slowly. “But… isn’t it more?”
Tommy whipped his head around to face Steve. “Huh?!”
“Tommy, he can’t sell you illegal drugs for thirty-five dollars,” Eddie tried very hard not to start dying of laughter, “Here just lemme pay the difference,” Steve said, fumbling for his wallet, “Seriously, dude, not cool,” he found it and opened it, “You know the D, D, and D. Ohhh… hahaaa… that sounds like that game…”
Eddie blinked, snapped out of his stupor, “Wait, you know D&D?!”
“Huh? Ooh yeah, Nancy’s brother plays it… I think? What’s the name, Dragons and Dangers? Ah, well, Nancy said her little brother plays it… he’s like a knight or something? I went with Nancy to buy paints for one of his little double D dolls,” Eddie couldn’t hold his laugh back this time, “So, yeah. Hey, Tommy, you invited Nancy, right?”
Tommy looked like he wanted to murder King Steve Harrington. His loyal subject brain was faltering.
Tommy stiffly nodded. “She said she had a project due so she couldn’t. Steve. She’s like super lame. What the hell could you possibly see in that prissy suck-up?”
Steve frowned. “Don’t. Don’t say that, Tommy,” Harrington then patted Tommy on the back, “Y’know, I think you need a few more shots man. Then maybe Laura’ll bang you. Go, go, I’ll finish up here.”
Steve laughed obnoxiously when Tommy shoved his head. Tommy glanced back at Eddie as he left. Then flipped him off. Wonderful.
“Sorry ‘bout him, man. He’s no fun when he’s drunk. He totally missed me recreating that one scene from Saturday Night Fever, god, he doesn’t even like that movie. This party’s so boring— uh, don’t tell him I said that, ‘kay?” Steve’s light brown eyes met Eddie’s dark ones. Eddie nodded, though he was mostly confused about, well, everything that had unfolded in the last ten minutes.
“Uh, what am I— oh! Yeah, haha, how much?”
“Uh,” Eddie struggled to find words, they were all stuck floating in his throat, “Fifty… uh fifty-five. Yeah. Fifty-five.”
Steve’s eyebrow furrowed and his tongue stuck out a bit when he concentrated on finding the right bills.
“Here, man,” he said, hiccuping.
Eddie took the money and counted.
“Hey uh, there’s an extra five in here?”
“Whoops,” Steve hiccuped again, “You take tips? Maybe that can be Tommy’s apology, haha. He’s so…”
“Annoying, mean, asshole-ish, rude…? Do you need more?”
Steve held up a hand, “Well, hey man, he’s my friend. Cool it.”
Right. Eddie shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable. These type always protect their own.
He gathered what Steve was there for and pushed before giving the baggie to him.
“What’s uh… D, D, and D, then? If not Dungeons and Dragons?”
“Dungeons and Dragons? What’re you talkin’ about? The triple D is uh, let’s see it’s, ‘Never’,” Steve began to count the words on his finger, before taking it back, “Wait, no, uh, ‘Don’t Disrespect the Dealer’. It’s my rule. Your price, our high, y’know. Anyway. Thanks! Anyway, you should join the party, freaky man! JESSIE! POUR ME ANOTHER! Hell yeah!”
And just like that, Steve Harrington left Eddie in the dark, extremely confused, extremely disappointed, and at the same time, extremely less miserable than he was at the beginning of this shit show.
Eddie decided to leave after that, mainly because he couldn’t stand to watch as Steve Harrington sobered up and went back to his cookie cutter mold.