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Steve leaned over the counter of Family Video, letting his hair flop over across his face. The small store was completely desolate save for Robin and Steve, which was pretty typical for a Thursday morning. Said employee herself was nonchalantly draped beside Steve’s flopped over form, arms folded, staring blankly at the tiny corner television.
That day’s movie selection was Steve’s, a result of a very rare rock paper scissors victory over Robin, who begrudgingly let Steve play Labyrinth, a choice made completely at random, instead of one of her carefully curated titles that were based solely on daily vibes alone.
“Y’know the point of choosing a vhs is to actually like the movie,” Robin scoffed as she elbowed Harrington’s shoulder beside her on the counter.
“I don’t care about the movie, Rob.” Steve grumbled, almost inaudibly into the crook of his arm. “I just want the satisfaction of winning rock paper scissors, you know that.”
“Well, you’re gonna miss David Bowie’s epic bulge.”
“His what-?” Steve finally lifted his head, his face twisted in confusion and his cheeks creased from leaning on the fold of his sleeve.
“Dude look, look.” Robin gestured quickly up to the small fuzzy images on the rounded screen. “Total bulge.”
Steve flipped over and faced away from the entrance to the store, then squinted up to the screen as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Holy shit, yeah. He’s packing!” Steve sputtered, which made Robin also burst out laughing.
“Why would they do that? Was it the puppets?” Robin wiped a tear from her eye.
“Oh it was definitely the fucking puppets! Have you seen them?” Steve whistled. “I don’t blame him.”
“That costumer deserves a raise for sure. Or an Oscar, at least .”
“Well I’m glad I chose this, because it was either this or Cannibal Holocaust.” Steve suavely leaned back against the counter, knocking over a huge stack of vhs returns in the process.
Robin’s snorts and giggles broke back into unbridled laughter, watching her coworker fumble over the counter, almost completely diving head first after the plastic tape cases. She then rolled her eyes and grabbed Steve by the back of his collar, effectively yanking him back onto his feet.
“Better be careful, dingus,” She said in an awfully spooky and foreboding tone, which was then promptly swapped for a sarcastic one. “Tomorrow’s Friday the 13th, don’t want your typical, endearing and normal Steve blunders to be ya know, worse. Could be bad luck.”
Steve scoffed, brushing his vest off as he made his way around the counter to properly pick up the fumbled tapes.
“How can you possibly believe that shit, Rob. It’s just superstition to make people freak out over nothing, and to get people to buy tickets to a fucking horror movie in March.”
“Okay, yeah, I don’t believe in it, but would it be that much of a stretch to? We literally were in an alternate mirror dimension almost exactly a year ago.”
It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, which he did with the ease of a man who routinely babysat a gaggle of teens. Robin tailed behind him as he tucked the large stack of tapes under his chin and headed toward the cramped aisles to restock.
“Maybe it’s not a bad thing that Friday the 13th is just a capitalistic ploy to sell movie tickets.” Robin cocked her hip against the wire frame of the shelf, and earned a pointed look from Steve, who was crouched, putting a copy of Better off Dead back into the carefully labeled and alphabetized comedy section. “You could bring some damsel and woo her by being all tough and manly. ”
“Ya sure, lemme just pick up a date from the crowd of bodacious babes in this store right now.” Steve grumbled and gestured toward the empty store as much as he could underneath the stack of tapes he was hawking. “If we were in a cartoon there would be a very well timed tumbleweed rolling across here right now.”
“Whatever, you’re just not seeing the opportunities, Steve. Makes me think you’ve really lost your touch, more than you’d already have.”
Steve stared up at her incredulously, his mouth agape in sarcastic betrayal.
“I’m so hurt, Robin, truly.”
Robin opened her mouth to come up with a witty comeback that would leave Steve insecure enough to lay awake at night thinking about it, but was interrupted by the familiar ringing of the door. She whipped her head around in surprise, ready to switch into Customer Service Robin in an instant, but visibly relaxed. Steve saw dirty white sneakers from in between the shelves, and could see Robin grinning. As he stood up, Robin and Eddie Munson — wearer of the shitty Reeboks — were clapping their hands together and pulling into a firm hug.
“Eddie, you scared the absolute shit outta me, man!” Robin was matching Eddie’s giddy, toothy grin. “Thought I was gonna be forced to actually do my job.”
“Yeah, yeah, what a tragedy that would’ve been, huh?” Eddie was still holding onto Robin’s shoulders for dear life.
Steve had figured out extremely quickly after the whole Vecna fiasco that Eddie was the type of guy to constantly be touching someone. Eddie would find a way to maintain contact with whoever was nearest to him, even if they weren’t close. At their first smoke session post fourth almost-apocalypse, Eddie was practically glued to Argyle, who he had met approximately five minutes prior when the spliff was passed around the first time. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Steve figured, but it did get a little awkward when Eddie oh-so-casually hooked his legs across Steve’s lap when they were at the Byers’ new place, which earned a very pointed eyebrow raise from Murray.
“Well, what brings you in here today, Mr. Munson? To what do we owe the pleasure?” Robin asked in a jokingly formal tone, donning a bad English accent.
“Oh, please, please! Mr. Munson is my uncle. I insist, do call me Sir Edward Munson.” Eddie ran with the bit, although his British accent was oddly authentic, he then cleared his throat and gestured to Steve. “Actually I’m here for this one.”
“So you wish to concur with the King? Alright, alright.” Robin bowed, dramatically gesturing to Steve, and had to keep herself from chuckling, her lip quivered a little.
Steve just quietly stood, staring deprecatingly at the pair of nerds with his stack of tapes still in his arms. Eddie turned on his heel toward Steve and frantically rooted around in his denim jacket pocket for a couple of moments before he fisted out two crisp pieces of paper. He brandished them nervously in his hands before he presented them to Steve. Harrington peered down at the set of two movie tickets being thrusted toward him and saw that both of the pink stubs had Evil Dead 2 neatly printed above an 8:00 PM showtime. Steve, who hadn’t said a word the whole time, stared back up at Eddie, who had his top and bottom lips sucked between his teeth. Eddie stared back at him, his wide brown eyes bugging in anticipation.
“A movie?” Steve simply asked.
“Well, Yeah,” Eddie dug around in his brain for a proper justification. “Uh- I was supposed to go with Jonathan at first, ‘cause I know he loves this shit, but he wanted to go with Nancy, to y’know, do the whole couple watching a scary movie thing, and then Henderson couldn’t come either and I thought, well, ‘the King of Hawkins’ himself, Steve Harrington literally works at a movie store, he’ll probably wanna see a movie, and who even has anything to do on Fridays anymore- ”
“This is that movie that has the commercial with the director right?” Steve cocked an eyebrow. “With the hands reaching through the seats and grabbing the British guy right?”
Eddie threaded his eyebrows together.
“I- uh yeah? I think?” Eddie shook his head, his choppy hair flipping over his shoulders, looking exasperated. ”Look, Harrington, you comin’ or not? It’s the premiere ! It’ll be a full house, probably.”
Steve’s eyes flicked from Eddie to Robin, whose eyebrows were practically at her hairline, and thought about their conversation before Eddie had conveniently waltzed in. Maybe, just maybe, she could be right, and this could be the opportunity to make some moves. Plus, it was free.
“Sure, fine.” Steve tilted his head casually and flicked his eyebrows upwards.
“Yes!” Eddie grinned wide, pumping his fist and shoving a ticket at Steve’s movie pile. “ Fuck yes! I’ll come and grab you at 6:30 tomorrow!”
Eddie giddily bounced on his feet, quickly bounding out the door, the bell announcing his exit. The two employees of Family Video gawked at the man as he practically sprinted to his car. After a moment of pregnant silence, Steve turned to meet Robin’s shocked, almost impressed expression.
“...Did um. Did Eddie Munson just ask you on a date?” Robin chewed on her index finger nail.
“What? No, Rob.” Steve paused. “ 6:30? What the hell are we gonna do for an hour and a half before this movie?”
Steve carried on the following day in a shockingly similar fashion to the day before. He woke up to a big empty house, did his mundane little tasks and showed up five minutes past his scheduled shift at 12:05, per usual. Even so, he couldn’t shake the slightly nervous feeling inside of him when he thought about his movie night with Eddie later that evening (Steve refused to call it a date, no matter how much Robin teased him about it).
Robin, in her true fashion, absolutely crushed Steve in Rock Paper Scissors that morning, much to Steve’s dismay. She took her time perusing her options, before popping in My Fair Lady for her movie horoscope of the day.
Steve was, in fact, scheduled that day until eight, but Robin was also closing, and how much of the truth she told Keith was her business, and if that meant being a wingman to her best friend and covering the hour and a half then so be it. What was he gonna do, fire his only employees?
The early afternoon lulled, but as soon as the evening settled in, customers began to cycle through in the usual weekend rush. Once it picked up considerably, the time flew, and by the time Steve had the sense to peer up at the analog clock it had ticked to 6:27 PM. Shit.
“So,” Robin was stationed at her usual spot at the counter, ringing up a few customers while Steve handled incoming returns next to her. “You’re not gonna change before your date?”
“No? What else would I wear?” Steve made a face. All he wore, really, was polos and jeans, which was precisely what he was wearing underneath his vest.
“Not even gonna brush your teeth?” Robin scrunched up her nose. “Nasty.”
“I’ll be fine, Robin, really.” Steve groaned. “Once I lay on the Harrington charm no lady will be able to help herself.”
“Yeah, uh huh, sure.” Robin scoffed as she cracked open a fresh roll of pennies on the side of the counter and dumped it into the register. “Just keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean–”
“Your Prince Charming is here.” Robin pointed to the front door, which was shut behind a nervous looking Eddie, who threw a hand up in greeting.
Steve flashed a quick smile to Eddie in return and turned to Robin clapping her on the shoulder. “Sorry to leave you hanging, Buckley.”
“You owe me one!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve waved his hand as he made his way out from behind the counter towards Eddie.
“Use protection!” Robin called to Steve from behind a confused customer, which earned her a fat middle finger from Steve.
When Steve finally made it to Eddie, the other man was stifling a laugh at Steve’s expense. As he shrugged off his green Family Video vest, he felt starkly plain next to Eddie. It looked as though Eddie had actually put some thought into his appearance, which was a genuine shock to Steve, although he wasn’t dressed up by any means. He had on a plain black t-shirt under a dark red flannel with his usual ripped black jeans. Eddie’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of a worn in black denim jacket, which Steve noticed was adorned with small buttons and pins. His hair was actually styled, or at least, tamed, from his usual shower, shake and go, and Steve noticed that his usual beat up to hell and back sneakers were replaced with a pair of well loved, but still nice, yellow and purple laced Doc Martens. Eddie noticed him gawking and shuffled his feet in his boots.
“Like what you see, Harrington? They were a little gift to me, from me.” Eddie grinned. Steve noted that even at night his smile was overwhelmingly bright and infectious. It was almost like the sun was concentrated directly into those pearly whites. Steve almost had to squint. “Saved up for weeks to buy them, after, y’know, almost dying. I figured, if I’m gonna get framed for murder and killed by interdimensional beings in the future, I might as well do it in some sick fucking docs.”
Steve gave a small chuckle at his earnesty, and moved to the passenger side of Eddie’s beloved van.
“C’mon Munson, we’re gonna be almost two hours early at this rate.” Steve reached out to grab the door handle but was interrupted by Eddie practically diving around the hood of the car to stop him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Eddie grabbed the handle to open the door and rolled his hands to gesture Steve inside, which was reciprocated by a hefty eye roll from Steve, who begrudgingly got in the car.
In that moment, Steve hoped and prayed to whatever God was listening that Robin didn’t see that, but he had some form of sixth sense ESP telling him that she absolutely did just see Eddie open the door to the car for him like he was some sort of gentleman taking his date to the prom.
They rode the short distance in relative silence, the quiet only broken by the sound of some metal cassette softly blaring through the shitty sound system. Steve was comfortably zoning out, eyes glazing over the moving scenery, but could feel Eddie’s quick glances over to him every now and then.
The pair (unsurprisingly, given the state of Hawkins) had to travel two towns over to the nearest movie theater. Eddie groaned, annoyed as they pulled into the parking lot of a tiny, yet bustling shopping mall.
“Man, Starcourt was so easy to get to, I’m so pissed that it’s gone.” Eddie shifted his gears into park as soon as he (badly) parked (crookedly) in a space.
“Yeah? Y’know, me and Robin used to work at the ice cream place there, I kinda miss it.” Steve tilted his head back against the headrest.
“No shit? Really?” Eddie shifted his body in his seat so his whole body was turned to face Steve. “I was there all the time. Snuck in to probably a hundred movies in the like, three months it was standing.”
The sun had sunk partially in the sky, bathing the car and the two men in a shadow. Eddie’s eyes were incredibly big and round, and Steve noticed that they were still visibly big and round and brown in the dark.
Steve’s tongue was thick in his mouth as he watched the other grasp blindly in the backseat before exclaiming a soft ‘there you are, beautiful!’ and excitedly producing a sandwich bag with weed and rolling papers stuffed inside.
“Do ya want some hors d'oeuvres before the main event, Stevie?” Eddie wiggled the bag in front of Steve’s face.
“Fuck it.”
Steve relaxed with his back against the car door as Eddie carefully laid out the weed like he was Julia fucking Child. It was like Steve was watching a master at his craft as Eddie rolled a single, fat blunt for the two of them, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s nimble ringed hands. His nails were jet black, and they reflected the light of the streetlamps as he carefully rolled the paper around what Eddie had referred to as his finest weed.
Did Eddie have his nails painted yesterday?
Before Steve could scrape around in his memory bank, Eddie’s tongue shot out to lick along the finishing edge of the blunt’s rolling paper. His gaze was drawn upwards where he found that Eddie was already looking directly at him through his eyelashes with those big fucking round eyes that seemed to spark with intensity even in the dark.
Holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit
Steve felt like he was a record perpetually stuck on one line of a song for the rest of his days, like he was fifteen again listening to his Born to Run album so fervently that it warped and scratched and looped.
Eddie recovered as if nothing had just happened, of fucking course.
“Here you go, big boy!” Eddie held out the blunt between two fingers like he didn’t just totally give Steve massive bedroom eyes. “I’ll give you the honors of having the inaugural puff.”
Steve hesitated for a tangible moment, eyes flicking between the blunt being offered to him, and Eddie’s genuine expression. He carefully took the joint into his hands and guided it into his mouth. Eddie pulled a bic lighter out of seemingly nowhere and held the flame to the rounded end of the cigarette. The small flame of the lighter cast their faces in a subtle orange glow as Steve crossed his eyes to watch the end of the blunt between his lips catch light. They were a lot closer than Steve had initially thought as he inhaled too long, and too hard. Eddie leaned over the center console and clapped Steve’s back when his exhale of smoke came out as a heavy, sputtering, cough.
“That’s it, Harrington, get it all out.” Eddie’s hand lingered on his back, burning into Steve’s skin as he rubbed small circles into him.
The blunt was passed over to its creator, who took a long, very professional drag and exhaled a long, thin tail of smoke through his teeth. Even if the weed itself hadn’t hit Steve yet, the physical act of dragging on a cigarette placebo’d his brain into relaxation. The next hit was easier on him, as he was getting used to the intrusion of smoke and weed smell being breathed into his lungs. In his comfortable haze he barely even noticed Eddie take three more hits before he reached out again.
“Hey. You’re gonna finish it at that rate. Hand ‘er over, Munson.” Steve teased.
Eddie just smirked at him and leaned back against his seat. He lifted the blunt to his lips and took a drag that Steve swore lasted thirty seconds. He then turned back to face Steve, still holding in the smoke and leaned in so close Steve was almost convinced their noses were touching. Steve’s mouth fell open as he and Eddie stared at each other for a split second (although to Steve it felt like millenia). Eddie then slowly exhaled, and Steve could feel the smoke surrounding him, overwhelming his senses so that all he could see Eddie, and all he could feel was the smoke connecting the two of them through each other. All he could smell was weed, naturally, and the soft scent of Eddie’s Aqua-net hairspray. He could feel his whole body vibrating down to the individual hair when Eddie finally pulled away, and he knew that if his face wasn’t a rosy shade of pink from the beginning of the high, then it certainly was now.
Maybe the weed was finally hitting him.
Before he knew it the blunt was back in his fingers, Eddie slinging some wise crack at him that he couldn’t process as English.
Steve was stunned into silence as the blunt was unceremoniously plopped back into his hands. He had to pretend not to shake as he brought it to his mouth, battling the sudden thought that they were sharing this blunt and it was just in Eddie’s mouth and they were practically kissing indirectly through the weed—
Steve cleared his throat and willed himself to take a hit. Eddie seemed unnaturally calm considering he had practically just almost kissed Steve, and was quietly pawing through his extensive collection of cassettes, unsure of what to choose.
“Hey,” Steve finally said, smoldering blunt still in hand as Eddie glanced up at him. “Y’know, I was wondering… ever since,”
Steve paused, trying to choose his words considerately through his weed clouded head.
“Ever since.. the whole Vecna stuff. What would your song have been?”
Eddie cocked his eyebrow upwards, searching Steve’s face curiously. He then paused, looking to the left in thought. He then began looking for a specific cassette.
“I think,” Eddie took the small plastic tape in his hands, holding it like a mother would hold a child. “It would be Hit the Lights. Metallica.”
Steve blew a piece of hair out of his face, not expecting anything less from Eddie, but one glance over to the other boy showed that he was putting a lot of thought into his choice.
“It’s not even my favorite song of theirs, but it was the first song on their first album. I was like… 15 or 16 when I heard it for the first time.” Eddie flipped the clearly well loved cassette over with a sigh. “I remember waltzing into Record Town and staring at this album with the coolest cover. I had to have it. With the five finger discount, of course.”
Eddie wiggled his ringed fingers at Steve, who rolled his eyes. Eddie then popped the cassette into the tape deck and hit play. Steve thought that he may recognize the song as the one Eddie played, but it wasn’t, it was faster and seemingly more aggressive, more juvenile, indicative of a band’s freshman album. He definitely saw the appeal to a 15 year old Eddie.
“Then, I remember listening to it at my Dad’s place. And it was loud and angry and it was louder and angrier than he was. I didn’t have to hear him. It felt like something shifted and clicked into place. It felt… freeing? I guess. I don’t know.”
Without the guise of his usual dramatics, Steve could practically see the regret in Eddie’s face in exposing part of his weaker cracks. Steve was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to see all of his cracks, spackle over the deepest ones with concrete until he was intact and strong. Eddie turned to meet Steve’s eyes as he stopped the cassette.
“I told you mine, now you gotta tell me yours.” Eddie picked up his air of humor like he never dropped it, and elbowed Steve in the arm, plucking the blunt out of his fingers. Steve tried not to linger on the brush of Eddie’s hand over his knuckles.
“I’ve never really thought about it.” Steve said honestly. He had songs that he loved, but nothing stood out to him as a life altering song.
“You gotta have one, Harrington. What is it?” Eddie puffed out a near perfect cloud of milky white smoke toward the windshield. “And don’t you dare say some stupid shit like fuckin’, Madonna or something.”
“I think it’d be Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen.” Steve mused. “I wore that record out so bad it kept repeating ‘ Cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to ruuuun. Over and over.”
Steve mimicked the Boss, adding a small flip of his hair for added measure.
Eddie let out a surprisingly loud cackle.
“Y’know, I think that might be the most Steve Harrington song ever. Tons of running and fighting and being heroic to pretty girls. Totally tracks that you’d be a Springsteen fan too. Not my cup of tea, personally, but damn can that guy work a crowd.”
“You play music too right?” Steve blurted out, not even considering that the answer is obviously yes.
“Yeah, not much work for a small town satan worshipper turned falsely-accused murderer these days, but we try.”
“Could I go to one of your shows?”
Ed’s reaction was instant, he sputtered a little, cheeks glowing pink.
“Wha- really? It doesn’t really seem like your scene!”
“Could be fun,” Steve hummed. “Plus I wanna see you play.”
“Are you trying to get free merch outta me, Steve?”
“I mean… Free merch wouldn’t hurt, either. If I’m gonna be a groupie I’ve gotta dress like one, don’t I?”
Eddie’s laughter seemed to brighten the front seat.
By the time 7:45 pm was displayed on the orange analog of Eddie’s dashboard, the car was thoroughly hot boxed, and both occupants were absolutely zooted.
“I wanna watch the trailers, Ed.” Steve was shaking Eddie’s shoulder as they both laughed about some customer that Steve dealt with earlier that week. They had become more and more entwined the more hits they took, with Eddie practically hanging off of Steve, his arms loosely tangled around his neck.
“Alright, ‘lright,” Eddie giggled around the cigarette in his lips. Steve stared through his bloodshot eyes. “Les’go.”
“I swear to god, Munson, if you open that door for me again I’m gonna kill you in your dreams like in the movie.”
“Steve, that's Nightmare on Elm Street, we’re seeing Evil Dead.”
There was a solid pause before both of them erupted into inconsolable laughter.
When they finally got out of the car, the amount of smoke that billowed out the doors made peoples’ heads turn in fascinated awe. Both tried feabilly to smack the smoke away to no avail. Eddie met Steve at the rear of the van, and held out his elbow, prom style, for Steve to take.
“My king.” Eddie put on that obnoxious accent again.
If Steve was sober, he would’ve shoved Eddie’s arm away and shook it off. Hell, if they were in High School, Steve would’ve added a few colorful choice words directed toward Eddie. But Steve was very high and therefore having the time of his life, so he graciously accepted Eddie’s arm, wrapping his arm under it. He felt like he was floating and Eddie’s arm felt so warm and secure threaded through his, but that was on account of the weed, naturally.
Admittedly, Steve did not smoke pot that often, only around his friends, and only when it was handed to him, when it was expected of him to smoke. Even then, he still felt like he constantly needed to be the babysitter that the older kids in the group always teased him for being. He’d take one or two hits, typically enough so that he wasn’t chewing on the inside of his cheek in worry like usual. He hadn’t hotboxed a car since high school, and he’d lost count as to how many times Eddie gingerly handed him the smoke. If he was stumbling and giggly then that was his business.
Eddie, the more experienced smoker, was able to compose himself well enough to hand the pair of tickets over to the worker in the box office. She scrunched up her nose, the obnoxious smell of weed radiating off of them was very apparent, and she gave the odd pair a long, knowing, look before she handed the ripped off stubs back to them and droned out the theater the movie was playing in.
Steve had little control over what his limbs were doing, and he was now holding Eddie’s hand tightly, which made the other’s big, round, pretty eyes widen and shoot down and back up. In Steve’s mind, if he wasn’t practically cemented into Eddie’s side, he’d probably fall over. No other reason.
“You want some popcorn, Steve?” Eddie cleared his throat, squeezing Steve’s hand.
They decided to share a large popcorn, which Steve insisted on paying for.
“C’mon you bought the tickets,” Steve waved a five dollar bill out of his pocket. “And the weed.”
“Well I’m the one who asked you out. So, no. I’m paying, Harrington.”
Steve had already slapped the bill down on the counter, annoying the poor cashier, who took the bill, uninterested in their argument. After Steve got his change back, he offered his hand back out to a surprised Eddie Munson, who cautiously took it.
“Y’know when you put it like that, it almost sounds like we’re on a–” Steve was suddenly pulled by Eddie toward the proper theater. He barely had the mind to reach back out and grab the popcorn bucket off of the counter before they completely forgot it.
“Where do ya wanna sit, Stevie?” Eddie asked as they entered the dark theater room.
The room was decently full already, even as an advertisement for refreshments softly buzzed on screen. Steve pointed to a small section of open seats.
“Not too close to the screen, not too far away, right in the middle.” He was an expert in these things.
The two settled on a pair of seats not quite perfectly in the middle, but in that perfect sweet spot distance so their necks would not hurt from looking up at the screen.
The murmurs of the crowd quickly ceased as the narrative introduction of the movie played. Steve, of course, found this recap very helpful because he’d never seen The Evil Dead, all the way through, even though he was now watching the sequel.
Steve could hear Eddie mumble a soft damn when he saw the main character, that guy that was in the cabin for some reason.
As the movie played, Steve felt like his head was full of fluff, the high hitting its peak. He was finally starting to come down, at least a little bit, when Eddie draped his arm around Steve’s shoulders like it belonged there. He took his eyes off of the screen for a split second to see that Eddie was flashing him a look that was asking Is this okay? Steve gave a small tip of his head, and Eddie smiled and stared at him with those big, pretty eyes. Something tugged in Steve’s chest swiftly, and his breath was practically pulled out of him as he whipped his head back to the screen. He found it pretty easy to relax again, with Eddie’s arm feeling like a life jacket around his shoulders.
The movie was starting to ramp up, which was saying a lot, since it opened with the main character getting thrown into a tree.
“This is fucking crazy,” Eddie mumbled into Steve’s ear as he reached over to grab handfuls of popcorn to shovel in his mouth. “Ash, the main character, is way different from the first one so far… Fuck me, this popcorn is so good.”
Ash, who Steve now learned was the main character, was currently battling it out with his own infected hand. Was it infected or cursed? Steve really couldn’t figure out if the bad guy creatures were demons or zombies. Maybe they were demon zombies.
“Oh shit.” Eddie was hyper focused on the screen as Ash stabbed a knife through his hand, rendering the squirming limb immovable and reached out with his good hand for a chainsaw.
As soon as the bloodied actor flicked his head back to start the chainsaw with the pull chain between his teeth. Steve felt a pang of heat in his stomach, and his mouth was agape when the screen was filled with the blood from the poor guy’s self severed hand. Steve was moderately grossed out by the sheer spray of blood, and at the concept of self amputation, but he never expected to feel this some sort of way to a horror movie of all things. Eddie’s arm gripped his shoulder lightly and shook him as he whispered excitedly.
“That was fucking insane, Stevie!”
Well this was another thing entirely, Steve pondered in a split second as his stomach flipped again. It was the same feeling as every other time Eddie called him that stupid nickname his parents gave him when he was a kid. Usually he’d hiss out a threat if people called him that, but with Eddie, it sat in the back of his throat and burned like the aftertaste of a shot of whiskey.
“Yeah,” Steve mumbled. “...crazy.”
He sat in contemplative silence through the rising exposition of the movie, sneaking a few glances toward Eddie. Steve could see plain as day that Eddie was high, his eyes were half lidded and distant, but he stared unbroken at the screen. His arm hadn’t moved from its position across the back of Steve’s seat. His hand had snaked its way down, however, choosing to find a home on Steve’s shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing steady circles with his thumb. Steve was suddenly hyper aware of the contact, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek.
He didn’t want to think about it too hard, like he had been doing the whole night, choosing instead to shove his thoughts into a teeny tiny box in his brain and lock the key for the sake of his own sanity. He didn’t want to think about why his whole body lit up light a fucking Christmas tree when Munson blew that smoke in his mouth, or why the simple act of having his arm around him made his heart race. Maybe Eddie was just kidding around? Maybe giving him the eyes while licking that rolling paper was just for a laugh, and totally wasn’t supposed to make Steve picture him doing other things in the split second.
His crisis prevented him from noticing that Eddie’s hand had trailed up his neck to obliviously curl a lock of Steve’s famous hair around his finger. He didn’t notice until his racing thoughts gave way to a cozy, grounded feeling, like tucking into a warm bed on the coldest day of winter. Steve darted his eyes back to Eddie, who was still attentively watching the movie with his mouth in a small o. He allowed himself to indulge in an extended glace, drinking in the lines of Eddie’s profile before had the chance of getting caught. His dark eyelashes framed his expressive almost black eyes, and Steve could see the corners of his mouth begin to twitch upwards. Steve was absolutely lost, but he opened his mouth to say something that was caught in his throat.
Before he could, Eddie gripped his shoulder again and giddily shook him. He could hear the whole theater murmur and chatter in enthusiasm as Steve turned his head to see the main character brandish a chainsaw on his handless arm.
Steve could feel Eddie squeezing him closer to him as the camera zoomed in so that Ash could get in a well timed ‘Groovy’. Eddie promptly lost his shit, nearly shouting in an Irish whisper.
“Dude who the fuck thinks of that? Holy shit, a chainsaw arm? Are you fucking kidding me, Harrington?”
Steve just scoffed in response as the chainsaw arm was used to saw off a shotgun. He could feel Eddie’s hair ghost the side of his neck as he came in closer.
“Look, all I’m saying is,” He looked around suspiciously for anyone potentially watching them. “One of us loses an arm this is the first thing we better be fucking thinking.”
“Might be too heavy for your widdle arms, Munson.” Steve smirked as Eddie made the most heartbreaking face of betrayal.
“How dare you! I’ll have you know that I’m jacked to shreds from my fucking insane guitar skills, Steven.”
“Well, Edward, it’s pretty funny that you’d use a strap then since obviously you’re Arnold fucking Swarzenegger.”
Eddie reared up to dish a comeback but the pair were loudly shushed by a person who came to actually watch the movie.
“Rude,” Eddie mumbled as he settled back down into his seat, redirecting his arm away from Steve’s shoulder and opting to comfortably cross them over himself.
“I know can’t two guys enjoy a movie together in peace?” Steve sent a charged look at the patron behind them and gestured to the blood spraying all over the screen. He turned back to Eddie and shook his head in disapproval. “People, man.”
Eddie scrunched his mouth to the side and sputtered, keeping it in. They managed to keep quiet enough to manage to pay attention to the rest of the movie.
As the climax was building up, Eddie pointed to the leading lady’s evil zombie demon possessed mother and turned to Steve.
“That’s you.” Eddie smirked slyly at Steve, who playfully pushed him away.
“Fuck off, dude.”
Eddie snickered and let his arm rest beside Steve’s on their shared armrest, before slowly, cautiously, placing his hand on top of his.
Steve immediately noticed and stared at Eddie’s hand, nonchalantly set on his, and could feel his heart hammering away behind his ears. When his eyes flew to Eddie, the other was just watching the screen as if he was unaware of Steve beside him, let alone the gentle contact between them.
He was thinking about everything when everything went to shit on screen and there was a portal and a tree and a knife.
He was still thinking about everything when the crowd excitedly chattered during the action.
He was still thinking about everything when the credits began to roll and everyone filed toward the exit.
Eddie hadn’t moved his hand an inch, and opted to just guide Steve up, letting their fingers interlace when they stood.
“That was single-handedly the greatest piece of cinema I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Eddie eagerly rambled. “I mean, seriously? The guy got portalled to the fucking dark ages! What are they gonna call the next one? Medieval Dead?”
“I’m honestly not sure how much of that movie was real and how much I hallucinated.” Steve followed Eddie back to his car through the crowd of people milling about in the theater lobby.
“We gotta tell Nance about it so she can throw out some sick slingers when she uses that sawed off of hers.” Eddie was swinging their arms a little as they walked, which made Steve tilt his head back and snicker.
“Could you imagine? Boom. swallow this, Vecna. She’s gonna love that when she and Jonathan go and see it.”
Eddie hummed in agreement as they got into the car.
The drive back to Steve’s house felt faster than the drive in. Steve relished in the banter they made back and forth about the movie.
“My question is why would you pull up to a creepy ass cabin in the woods and read a book with a face on it? That’s like… horror movie mistake number 1.”
“Steve, Steve, Steve. He just wanted some sexy alone time with his girl. No book bound in human flesh ‘n shit would ever stop him. You of all people should know that.”
When they pulled into the driveway of Steve’s dark house, Eddie had a sheepish expression on his face. When he turned to Steve he opened his mouth like a fish before he finally found his words.
“Can I… Can I tell you a secret, Steve?”
Steve cocked one of his eyebrows up, feeling like a parent finding their kid with their hand in the cookie jar.
“Shoot.”
“Well, I…” Eddie paused, considering his words his eyes were wide and filled with fervor. “I lied to you yesterday.”
“Yeah?” Steve’s eyebrow raised to meet the other.
Eddie, who usually made wide eyed and kind of intense eye contact, looked at his dashboard instead of Steve.
“I-uh… I never asked anyone else to come with me. I only asked you. Because I wanted you to come with me. On a date.” Eddie released a worrying breath that he was holding in. “I’m just chicken shit and pussied out at the last second even though Robin coached me through everything and—“
“Wait Robin knew?” Steve was legitimately shocked. Eddie finally turned, stunned to search Steve’s eyes.
“Wha..?”
“You got Robin to help you ask me out?” Steve couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Eds, Robin has a horrible track record with dating.”
“You don’t care?” Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t really think that Steve Harrington, king extraordinaire, would take kindly to being asked out on a date by,”
Eddie gestured wildly to himself, which earned him a scoff from Steve. Steve thought to himself for a moment. He really didn’t mind that Eddie was calling this a date, as far as dates go, this had been the best one he’d been on in years.
“No, not really.” Steve’s eyes wandered the front seat of the car before meeting Eddie’s face. Even in the dark, Steve could see Eddie’s flush as his nervous frown broke into a wide grin. It was like clouds parting away to the sun on the warmest day of Spring. Steve briefly wondered if he would be able to see this smile and feel its warmth every day.
“We could go on another one if you want?” Eddie was curling his ring around his index finger.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Steve smiled and couldn’t help himself, his eyes flicked down to steal a glance at Eddie’s lips.
“Well in that case, my mom will call your mom to ask if we can have a sleepover.”
Steve rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. He stole another look to Eddie’s lips.
“Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
Steve smiled at him and brushed back a piece of his hair that framed his face. He could hear Eddie’s breath falter as Steve ran his thumb over Eddie’s warm cheek.
They met in the middle, capturing each other in a firm, gentle kiss. Eddie’s hand snaked up to meet Steve’s on his face, pressing the cool metal to Steve’s skin.
Steve’s eyes were fluttered close, taking in the smell of Eddie, the weed, the hairspray, residual popcorn butter. When they finally pulled away, Steve was met with an absolutely stupefied Eddie. His mouth, kissed pink, was formed in a small o and his pupils were dilated and full of an emotion that Steve couldn’t place. Wonder, maybe.
“Goodnight, Eds.” Steve grinned.
“‘night, Stevie.” Eddie still had that look on his face as Steve pressed another peck onto his cheek and patted it. He still was staring at Steve like a deer in headlights as Steve made his way into his house, and he was still staring when Steve turned to wave before shutting the door.
Eddie’s van sat motionless in Steve’s driveway for a solid minute as he sat, still as a board. Steve could see Eddie’s hand ghost his cheek and his lips through the windshield before he finally was able to leave.
Steve could clearly picture Robin finally putting a tally on his ‘you rule’ side of the whiteboard.