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Summary
Eddie told himself that he was done, because he wouldn’t survive another heartbreak at that boy’s hands. But he really, really needs someone to open for them on tour. Steve Harrington had waltzed into his life, sucked him in like a siren and fucking eviscerated him with soft touches. And maybe it wasn’t his fault, but Eddie would never forgive him all the same. He’d nursed his Harrington hangover for years, and he’s not about to hand over his sobriety chip just because the guy's got a busted foot and a very apparent issue with alcohol. Not when it had taken work to get Steve out of his system the first time.
Steve thinks of long summer evenings beating the heat in his pool, of the stick-and-poke tattoo he’s got on his ankle and chicken scratch handwriting on legal paper. He’s getting caught in the slipstream of his own shattered expectations, and it’s dangerous to cling when the branch is failing, but he thinks he can’t help it. He has a fist full of letters by the time he arrives in Los Angeles, but the Eddie Munson he knew is nowhere to be found. Left to make sense of this new version of the friend he once bared his soul to, Steve’s just trying not to fall off the fucking deep end again.