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"That's nice."
"Thanks, Harrington."
Steve was doing a very lousy job at hiding the fact that he was positively drooling over Eddie, who was sitting in his garage and playing guitar riffs. He'd brought him along to his house after hanging out at Family Video, begging him to take a look at his car because it was making weird noises.
It was true. Eddie noticed.
The engine had been making some concerning sounds for the last couple of weeks, but this probably had more to do with spending time with Eddie than it did with fixing his beloved, and that's saying a lot.
The metalhead had snooped around the bonnet and gotten his hands greasy just to inform that the BMW needed new plugs. Well, that and to give Steve three brain bleeds, five aneurysms and nine heart attacks in the span of a minute when he tied his hair up and lifted his shirt, showing the scars the Upside Down had imprinted him with. Steve figured he would be able to disguise his severe case of a flushed face with the heat of Hawkins' summer. It had worked well (he really hopes).
Now, with the excuse (?) of not wanting to drive out under the summer's lethal, burning sun, they were hanging out in the Harringtons' garage and drinking cold beer. Steve dug out a really old acoustic guitar he'd gotten as birthday gift when he was about twelve and Eddie started working his magic.
“You good, baby cakes?” And Eddie had to be aware of the effect he had on Steve when he called him pet names like that. He just had to. “You’ve been unusually quiet.” He’d just finished playing some song that the ex-jock hadn’t heard before.
“‘M good. Just listening. You really do sound nice.” And that explanation wasn’t a complete lie. It’s just that he had a lot on his mind. The way Eddie's curls danced when he moved his head, mostly.
“Well, thanks again big boy.” Oh, fuck him. “‘Ts been a while since the last time I’ve had my hands on one of these beauties.” He ran his hands through the instrument’s neck. “They’re not my type but, boy, they sure are charming.” He stated, unaware of the gymnastics he put Steve’s heart through. Then he playfully played the opening riff for Master of Puppets. It sounded really different, kind of funny. “‘You play this baby?”
Steve’s brain glitched for a hot second at not knowing whether Eddie called him baby or the guitar. It's not like he hasn't called him that before. "Nah, never really picked it up. My dad was supposed to teach me but, uh... You know. Busy."
Eddie made a weird face, as if he wanted to pity him but immediately regretted it. He ended up looking down and slowly strumming the guitar. "Sucks. Sorry." His hair, already down, framed his face and Steve thought he looked pretty.
He really couldn't be upset if he was close to this man.
"It's cool. I tried to learn a couple years ago, but I don't think I'm built for it." He twirled a strand of loose hair and pushed it behind his ear like a fucking schoolgirl.
"Bullshit." Steve shriveled at the word, but it went away as soon as he saw the spark behind Eddie's eyes. His heart became flooded with warmth as the man in the band tee grinned and spoke again. "Fuck that! I bet my left nut you can play, you just haven't had the resources or motivation. You haven't had help." He offered a toothy smile.
"Well, did anyone help you?" He retaliated mockingly. Eddie pulled the guitar's dusty strap over his head and held the wooden object up with his left hand.
"No, but that's because I'm awesome." He smacked his lips together and stood up from the box he'd been sitting on. Wait. What's happening. What is he doing. "Everyone goes at their own pace. Maybe you particularly need a teacher." Oh my god.
Steve looked like a boiled tomato when Eddie pushed the guitar to his chest and stood behind him. Oh my god. "I'm gonna teach you. Can I teach you? You're gonna be so good, baby. I promise." Oh my god. That 'baby' was for him. Oh my god? Was he aware of the words that'd just left his mouth? Was he aware of anything at all? Oh my god. He's so hot. He's so cute and so nice and so kind and so sweet and so fucking genuine. And his arms were now around him. Steve's heart was beating rapidly and erratically. That bastard, Eddie Munson. That motherfucker.
"I'm gonna teach you real good." And just maybe, he knew. Maybe it was on purpose. Maybe he wanted him to feel this way. His breath was catching in his throat, fuck's sake. The proximity alone was way too much, and it just came to show how ridiculously much he liked him. "Do you want me to?" Steve buzzed and nodded, rendering out a thought that he was willing to let be in charge.
Eddie put his right hand over Steve’s, his arm around him and dangling down his shoulder and Harrington was really going to do it. He was.
Softly, the metalhead guided the younger man's fingers to the strings and oh dear god. His rings felt cool and nice against his skin. He helped him to a couple of different chords. "So this is B major... Here's B minor..."
And there was no way he couldn't feel the electricity too. Them together, it just felt right. He was going to do it. His face was so close to his, his chin was lying on his shoulder, it was going to be so easy. He would tell him everything later; about how he made him feel stupid in the best way possible with his big doe eyes, about how he was most likely in love with him. He'd have time for that. He had to do it just then because their hands were touching and Eddie's voice was low and warm in his ears and he just had to. "Eddie." He choked the word out. The man with the rings turned to him ever so slowly. He was very flustered too, apparently. Okay.
"Ste..."
He kissed him as their hands played quite the pretty chord. Steve would eventually learn which one it was, exactly.
Right then, all it was... was perfect.