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So here’s the thing.
Here’s the thing, okay?
Eddie picks the songs for the band to play, to show small-town Hawkins what metal is. But the thing is, small-town Hawkins. SMALL TOWN. Metal is a little hardcore for them. So, Eddie will put in a few harder rock songs.
Ease them into the good music.
But his music selections don’t mean anything, GARETH.
There’s no ulterior motive, no emotions Eddie is trying to get out, nothing he’s trying to say. It’s just a bridge for these small-town people to listen to the good shit.
ALRIGHT?
“I’m just saying, man. Ever since Harrington turned seventeen, you’ve been putting that Winger song on the set list for more and more gigs.” Jeff laughs from the back of the van where he’s shoving miscellaneous paraphernalia over for their instruments.
“That’s because it’s a hard rock song, JEFF. It’s a good SEGWAY for SMALL-TOWN people to get into METAL. It has nothing to do with Harrington being seventeen. Nothing.”
There’s laughs from the peanut gallery and Eddie kicks the wall of the alley before heading back into the Hideout for an after-gig drink.
(He may not be the legal age yet, but he knows and supplies the bartenders so what were they going to do? Tell him no?)
And it was on his way to the bar that he found his wayward friend who was completely wrong about why Eddie chose songs for the setlist.
Gareth was talking at the bar with an absolute eye-feast of a man.
Clad in a black skin tight DIO shirt, a worn out black leather jacket, some of the tightest black jeans known to man (ripped in the knees), big black leather boots with chains and zippers, silver rings adorning slim fingers, brown hair teased into an absolute mess, dark kohl surrounding beautiful brown eyes, and small silver hoops in his ears.
Fuck.
He was every gay metalhead’s wet dream.
And Gareth was talking to him.
Why was Gareth talking to him?
Why was Gareth talking to him and gesturing to Eddie??
He was cool though.
Wet dream or not, Eddie didn’t let anyone phase him.
Mostly.
“Speaking of…yo Eddie!”
Gareth waved him over, and he went.
Why wouldn’t he?
This was his drummer and he called him over.
The delicious eye-feast standing next to him had nothing to do with anything.
Nothing at all.
“Hey, Eddie! This here fine connoisseur of music is a huge fan of yours!”
“Oh really?”
Eddie couldn’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face as he turned to look Gorgeous right in those warm brown peepers.
(Fuck.)
Gareth said something as he left, but Eddie couldn’t tell you what it was. He was too busy watching a soft flush make its way across this man’s attractive face.
Really highlighted the sexy moles.
“Um, hi?”
“Hi.” Eddie smiled widely at the soft manly tone.
(Mmm. Men.)
The metalhead’s wet dream looked down shyly, hands fidgeting before he seemed to make up his mind and speak again.
“You’re really amazing, you know?”
Eddie’s turn to the flush.
“I appreciate that, but the band has put in a lot of work to get here.”
“No, I mean, like, you have so much stage presence, and you’re so genuinely yourself, like…you aren’t afraid to be something you’re not. And that’s…that’s really amazing…”
They’re both just standing there with red faces before the other man clears his throat again.
“Plus, the way you shred guitar is like, ridiculously attractive.”
Fuck.
Metalhead’s wet dream AND gay? This is like a cold day in hell. What the fuck?
Eddie must have stayed silent a bit too long because all the blood drained from the other man’s face and he started to seriously backtrack.
“I’m sorry! That-I didn’t mean to-that came out wrong. It’s just-your friend said that one song-I should have figured it was a girl. I’m sorry. Forget this happened. I’m sorry, I’ll go. Sorry.”
Before he could turn tail and run, Eddie grabbed his hand and let one of his softer smiles grace his face.
“Nah, man, you’re cool. Barking up the right tree and all…just maybe not the right time…”
Fuck does it hurt Eddie to do this.
The look of confusion on Gorgeous’ face was just plain attractive.
“I am definitely not into, uh, the female persuasion. But…I am sort of hung up on a guy…so…” Wow. First time he’s been able to admit that and it was to a stranger at a bar.
Harsh, Munson.
Gorgeous made a perfect ‘o’ with his mouth before he started to speak again.
“Oh. The guy that song is about?”
Now Eddie was confused.
“What song?” They didn’t play any original’s tonight…pure covers for the ease of it. (Not to mention most of Eddie’s songs were very very homosexual and about a certain guy…)
“Seventeen? By Winger?”
“What?!”
The other man looked taken aback, looking around the bar for a minute before elaborating.
“Um. Gareth said that you’ve been playing that song in most of your sets because the person you liked is seventeen? Said it was fitting or something like that?”
Fuck you Gareth. Fuck you to hell.
“Gareth told you that and you were still trying to flirt? Bold.” Eddie cursed life a little too hard. Where was this delightful person back when he was a sophomore, huh? Dating would have been so much better than pining…
“Well…I figure this other guy might not be confident enough, or, uh, queer enough, to go after someone as amazing as you, if he’s not here for your show.”
Fuck.
That was smooth.
Eddie sighed.
“Look. I’m gonna be honest with you, sweetheart.” Eddie admired the flush the endearment caused but continued anyway. “If I had met you a few years ago, before I met this other guy, you’d be a shoe in. I mean, small town like Hawkins? Looking like you do? Confident as you are? I’d be a goner.”
“But?” The smile was sad and Eddie hated being the one to put it on the beautiful face, but he was nothing if not honest with himself and to others.
“But…I’ve been hooked on this guy since I was a sophomore. Like two years now. And sure, he’s straight, and dating a chick, and way out of my league, and so many other reasons…but…I’ve never given myself a chance to try, you know? I don’t think I could move on, could forgive myself for moving on, if I didn’t try first. Attempt it, you know?”
He was nodding and the sad smile spread a little further, but Eddie thinks he got it across.
“That’s a pity, but I understand. You wanna tell me about him?”
Eddie choked.
“W-what?”
The guy leaned back on the bar laughing as he pulled up his beer for another sip.
“I imagine you don’t get to gush very often, right? Considering small-town Hawkins and all. But I’m willing to hear all about him.”
A soft smile and Eddie chuckled.
“Wow, you sure seem like a glutton for punishment, man.”
“Who knows, maybe gushing to me about him will get him off your mind and I’ll have a shot?” A sly smile and Eddie had to stop his heart from jumping into his throat.
Bad fucking timing.
Damn.
“Oh well. In that case…” Eddie cackled and ordered a drink from John, knowing he’d make it weak enough for Eddie to drive later.
“You from around here, sweetheart?”
The other man blushed again and took a long sip of his beer before running his finger around the rim of the bottle.
“Something like that.”
Eddie hummed in response, taking a long drink from his fresh cocktail before swallowing the fear that always collected in his throat whenever he tried to talk about this.
“You seem to be about high school age, right?”
“Why? You gonna get me for underage drinking, officer?” The flirty smirk was back and Eddie was a weak weak man.
He did manage to return it with a slightly less flirtation smile before he looked down at his glass again.
“Just trying to figure out if I could just tell you his name and you’d know him.”
“Mmm. It’s likely, I know a lot of people around town.”
“And I’ve never seen you before now? Bad fucking luck for me, man.”
Gorgeous smiled to himself and Eddie smiled wider at the response.
Confident but bashful. What a fucking combination.
“Well get ready for something righteously hilarious about Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson.”
Concerned brown eyes under furrowed eyebrows turned to look at him and Eddie decided to just take the plunge.
“Steve Harrington.”
The other man choked and stuttered out a “what” before Eddie started laughing.
“Yeah man. Been hung up on Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington since I first saw him when he was a young impressionable freshman.”
Eddie gave himself a pitying smile before tossing back the rest of his drink. Talking to a cute guy about the other cute guy was definitely not sober behavior. He needed to be drunker for this.
Damn his earlier promise to be the driver.
Wet Dream’s beautiful brown eyes seemed to widen even further (how that was possible, Eddie did not know) before following Eddie’s lead and slamming down the rest of his drink.
“…and he’s seventeen this year, isn’t he?”
“Yup. Just started hanging around that Wheeler chick too. Worst fucking straight man to get hung up on, I know.” Eddie raised his arms in exasperation before laughing at himself.
“Fucking doomed from the start.”
Gorgeous’ eyes narrowed and he looked to be preparing himself to say something scathing when he was interrupted by another voice coming over to their section of the bar.
“Time to head out, hon.”
Short teased blonde, dark kohl with bright red lips, another skin tight DIO shirt, a black leather jacket with more chains and straps on it than Eddies, tight leather pants, and knee high leather boots.
Taller than Gorgeous, but not by much (and probably because of the heels), and just as pretty as the man leaning against the bar.
Eddie raised his eyebrows and looked back at the man.
“Girlfriend?”
“…I literally just hit on you?”
“You did?” The woman looked over at Gorgeous with raised brows like she couldn’t believe what she heard before looking back at Eddie and scrutinizing him suddenly.
What?
He didn’t do anything wrong here.
“You could be bi, man.”
“…cheating is so wrong.”
“Preach. So sister?”
The woman is back to looking at Gorgeous like he’s an enigma.
“Might as well be. But cousin actually. And yeah…we can head out…see you around…Eddie.” He smiled so bright it made his warm brown eyes fucking twinkle. Before he headed out with the other pretty older metal head.
Fuck.
What is wrong with him?
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Gareth sidled up right next to him at the bar, waving down John for a refill before looking at Eddie like he was the dumbest man alive.
And to be fair.
Eddie kind of feels like the dumbest man alive.
“Fuck off man.”
“I was, like, the perfect wingman this time. He was so fucking into you. And you waste it talking about goddamn Steve fucking Harrington!”
“You started it, fuckhead!”
Gareth had the gall to look flabbergasted.
“I did not?!”
“You told him that we perform Seventeen by Winger because of the guy I’m hung up on?!”
“Yeah, because the guy is clearly in high school, you fucking moron. I wanted him to know that his age wouldn’t have stopped you!”
Now Eddie was the one looking at Gareth like he was a fucking moron. Mouth open and everything.
“Why the fuck did that sound like a good idea?!”
“I dunno, man! I was high!” Gareth fucking whined and Eddie was done with it all. Fuck it.
“Fuck it. Go round everyone up to the van. I need to get smashed or baked and I promised you assholes that I’d drive you home.”
“What?! It’s not even ten yet!”
“Don’t care. Get in the van.”
“Fuck, man. You need to get laid.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
“You have five minutes then I’m leaving.”
“What?! No! You know how long it takes to find Jeff and Jim?!”
“Better hurry then.”
And then Eddie left the Hideout.
Fuck.
He was an idiot.
Gorgeous wet dream metal head kept showing up to gigs, though.
Generally accompanied by his cousin-might-as-well-be-a-sister, and he would sit at the bar and watch Corroded Coffin perform like they were DIO or Black Sabbath themselves. It gave Eddie such a high.
Then Eddie would shoot himself in the foot by constantly going over to chat with him.
Literally just chatting.
Sometimes they’d flirt a little at the beginning but it was mostly just chatting.
Fuck.
A moron.
“So, you a metal head, metal head, or just here for the bands?”
“I listen to so much, man. All sorts of genres, all sorts of songs, you can’t put me in a box like metal head and expect to have it stick.”
“Oh yeah? You certainly dress like one.”
“This is all my cousin. Didn’t want to show up here looking like I was out of place so they dolled me up real nice and let me go.”
“Oh? This not your normal look?”
“Not even close.”
A side glance and an early exit.
“So, are you bisexual?”
“Hmm?”
“When we first met, I thought your cousin was your girlfriend, and then I said something about you being bi. You never actually answered me.”
“I didn’t think it was a question.”
“So, are you?”
“What?”
“Bisexual, man. Come on, keep up.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“When’d you figure that out?”
“When did you figure out you were gay?”
“When all the other boys were talking about how Carol was filling out, I was more focused on Stan.”
“Stan?”
“Just a replacement name. I could have used Steve but we weren’t even in the same school until high school. Also I was out in the Carolina’s.”
“You’re not from Hawkins?”
“Nah. Lived with my folks in between North and South Carolina, then shit happened and I moved in with my uncle, who moved here for his job.”
“Shitty parents?”
“Something like that. You?”
“I wish I could live with my cousin, instead. I think my father would have an aneurism if I did though.”
“He doesn’t like her?”
“Hates ‘em. And everything they stand for. It’s a whole thing. But they pretty much raised me after I stopped being a cute enough baby and my parents started leaving me home for longer and longer for business trips and vacations and shit.”
“Shit man.”
“It’s not that bad. I turned out okay.”
“Doesn’t make it okay.”
“It doesn’t but I can handle it.”
“Yeah?”
“As long as I don’t embarrass the family and keep my grades decent they don’t give a shit.”
“Grades, huh?”
“Yeah…Junior year this year…”
“Senior for me.”
“Yeah? Always did like them older, I guess.”
“Bwahahaha. You sure are something else, sweetheart.”
A blush and a small pleased smile.
“Your parents probably don’t like the whole metal scene, huh?”
“They don’t know shit about it. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to walk if they found out I was here, looking like this.”
“What the fuck?”
“Shit. I might be a little too drunk.”
“Are you serious, babe?”
“Don’t worry about it, Eddie. They’d have to be home to hurt me.”
“That doesn’t make it better. Fuck that makes it so much worse. Are you-”
“Drop it, Eddie. It doesn’t matter.”
An angry glare and a muttered goodbye.
“School year getting to you too?”
“Ugh.”
“That bad, huh, sweetheart?”
“Why do you have to be so hung up on some dickhead who’s not worth you?”
“Where’s this coming from?”
“I started dating a chick.”
“Yeah?! Good for you man! You like her?”
“Kind of?”
“Kind of? What the fuck kind of answer is that?”
“I mean. She’s pretty. And nice, I guess. And everyone kind of expected us to get together? My parents are pleased about it…for the most part.”
“Is that why you started dating her?”
“Pretty much.”
“…sweetheart…”
“Yeah, I know. Shitty reason…but I figured if you weren’t an option…I should try branching out again?”
“Fuck, babe. I don’t know if I should feel flattered or crushed for you…”
“It doesn’t matter, Eddie.”
“You literally described this school year as ugh and started talking about this girl you’re dating because other people want you to. I feel like it does matter.”
“It doesn’t matter to you. I’m just the guy barking up the right tree at the wrong time, right?”
“Sweetheart.”
“I’ve got to go…”
Sad eyes and a dejected walk.
“I just don’t understand why you’re so hung up on Steve Harrington?”
“Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, but like…isn’t that just…I don’t know, not enough?”
“Not enough?”
“Yeah. You say you’re hung up on him, but, like, do you even know him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you actually hung up on him for being him? Or is it the idea of Steven Harrington that has you stuck?”
“The idea of him?”
“Yeah…sporty, popular, rich…handsome…”
“Well, yeah, he is those things.”
“I just. Wonder why you refuse to date, when it seems like you’re hung up on a guy you don’t even know?”
“Hmmm…Let me let you in on a little secret, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?”
“Steve Harrington is not as much of a dick as the not popular kids like to mark him as.”
“…what?”
“Yeah, man. Two years on the top of the social food chain, about to be three, and I’ve never seen him say a single horrible thing to anyone.”
“What? No…”
“Cross my heart. His friends? The people he hangs around with? Totally fucking dicks. Assholes of the highest degree. Horrible people really. But Harrington doesn’t say anything, doesn’t pick on anyone, doesn’t even look like he thinks it’s funny.”
“But…”
“Once I even saw him look upset when Tommy H. was calling another kid a queer, didn’t even laugh when Tommy H. tried to get him to joke along. Just looked really upset the whole time.”
“That doesn’t make him not a dick, Eddie…in fact that might be worse…”
“Nah. I’ve never been bullied, sweetheart. Too freaky and confident for anyone to think it’s a good idea. But I take the bullied under my larger freakish wing, and I try to give them a safe space. I know what they’ve been through. They’ve told me.
“Harrington? Just a bystander. Could he stop his associates? Sure. But it’s high school. The social game is hard enough. Why make it harder on yourself by painting a target on your back? It seems like a dick thing to do, but to me, he’s just protecting himself from something that could be worse.”
“…You’re too kind, Eddie.”
“Nah, man. I just see shit in a way other people won’t.”
“Steve Harrington is a lucky guy…to have someone like you so hung up on him.”
A smile, a blush, and just like all of the others, the night is forever stamped in Eddie’s mind.
“Fuck. I don’t know what to do, Gareth…” Eddie groaned and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes, expertly avoiding the lit blunt hanging from his lips.
Gareth looked unaffected by Eddie’s pain.
“I told you, man. Like…months ago when the hottie started coming in for the shows. You haven’t done shit about Harrington, you just moon. And he’s not worth it anyway.”
“Fuck you, Gareth.” Eddie growled low in his throat and glared at his friend.
Surprisingly, Gareth aggressively shut the magazine he was reading and straight up glared at Eddie. A surprising turn of events.
“No. Fuck you, Eddie. You’ve been so fucking hung up on Steve Fucking Harrington, who doesn’t even know your goddamn name, and you have this hot, queer, INTERESTED man hanging around at all our shows and you’re whining about not knowing what to do. It’s pretty fucking obvious man.”
“Gareth. I don’t even know his fucking name.”
That seemed to stop the rant from building further, and his drummer looked confused for a second before he moved on to bewildered.
“Eddie. You’ve been talking to this guy since the beginning of summer. It’s November. And you don’t know his fucking name?!”
Well when he puts it like that.
“You don’t either!”
“I talked to him once, Eddie. For you! You’ve talked to him every Tuesday since JUNE!”
Again, good point.
“It didn’t come up!”
“He knows your name!”
“I’m the singer and lead guitarist for the band! I say it every fucking night!”
“You are, functionally, a disaster.”
“Fuck you man.”
Eddie slams himself back into the couch and puffs on his blunt, ignoring the under the breath muttering that Gareth is spouting out.
It was perfectly reasonable that Eddie doesn’t know Wet Dream Metal Head’s name. It’s literally never come up.
Eddie prefers the pet names, too. And the blush on Wet Dream’s face every time Eddie uses one, means he does too. Why stop that with a name?
On the other hand…
Eddie knows about his shit parents, his shit homelife, his cousin who raised him, his bisexuality, him not being an actual metal head, his massive fucking crush on Eddie…
Yeah no. Eddie should definitely know his name.
“Fuck. I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah, you fucking are.” Gareth pipes in like a fucking peanut gallery and Eddie glares back at him.
They must look ridiculous.
Sharing the tiny ass couch in Eddie’s trailer, each smoking a blunt, and glaring at each other like petulant toddlers.
Fucking.
How does Gorgeous like him?
Literally how.
“You need to make up your mind, man. Are you gonna stay hooked on a straight guy who’s never even glanced at you, or are you gonna go for the guy who is so far gone for you that he’s come back every Tuesday for months just to talk to you.”
“Fuck, Gareth, it’s not that easy.” Eddie sighed, blowing smoke up into the ceiling and watching it dissipate.
“It literally is.”
“No, Gareth, listen, okay? I’ve had…a thing…for Harrington for a long fucking time, right?”
“…too long if you ask me…”
“I’m not, now shut up and listen. I’ve had this thing for a long time. Long fucking time. Two and half years now. It started when I was a sophomore-”
“Fuck I know, Eddie, I was there.”
Eddie glared and Gareth mimed zipping his mouth before settling further into the couch.
“I was still figuring my own shit out when I was a sophomore, fifteen fucking years old man. Still developing the Eddie Munson that I wanted to be. And then Harrington walks into the doors of Hawkins High. Stunning, a gift to us mere mortals, and, at the time, breathtakingly kind and generous.
“I was so gone on him from first glance and it kept getting worse, right? The longer I watched, the longer I learned, the longer it went on, even as he had that douche clique, even as said clique started using Harrington’s popularity to be even bigger douches, even as he seemed to turn into a pale copy of himself.
“I still had a thing for him.
“What happens to me if I decide to move on?”
“Dude, what?” Gareth’s brows furrow, eyes flicking across Eddie’s face like he had the answer his friend was looking for.
“Say I move on, say I go for Metal Head’s Wet Dream? What happens to the Eddie from the last two and a half years? The Eddie whose personality seemed to bloom around this…this thing I have for Harrington? How am I going to change? Am I going to like who I change into? Are my friends? Is Metal Head’s Wet Dream?”
Silence.
“This guy likes the guy who has a big fucking crush on Steve fucking Harrington. Will he still like me if that changes? Will I still like me? Will you?”
“…You call him Metal Head’s Wet Dream?”
Eddie throws the mostly dead blunt at Gareth’s head. You lay your feelings out for a man…
“Dude!”
“Gareth! Is that literally all you got from this?”
“It was the lightest thing I could think of! You really think your personality is going to change if you give up on Harrington?”
Eddie slouched into the couch and breathed out heavily through his nose.
“I really don’t know, man. But he’s been an integral part of me since I was fifteen. What the fuck do I know?”
Gareth saddled closer and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and he leaned into the side hug his friend was giving him. Ahhh…comfort.
“I think…I think you need to see if Steve Harrington can actually be someone you can be with. See if he stops being such a dick…or dick-adjacent…if he doesn’t, you need to move on…if he does…you need to at least confess so you can move on. Even if he says awful shit and tries to beat you up. At least you’ll know.”
Eddie rubs his eyes again, trying not to let them water too much.
It was just the smoke man.
Just the smoke.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, man. It sucks seeing you like this. Especially with Metal Head’s Wet Dream standing there completely gone for you.”
“He is?”
“He is so gone, man. He looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“Fuck, I’m an idiot.” Eddie practically slams his head into Gareth’s shoulder this time, feeling like a fucking moron.
“Yeah, but you’re our fucking idiot.”
“Thanks man. For that and the pep talk.”
“Anytime. Anytime…”
Eddie looks up at Gareth’s thinking face and sighs.
“What do you want?”
“You got more weed? The heavy talk is killing my high.”
“Yeah man, be right back.”
The next day everything was a fucking mess.
The Byers’ youngest had gone missing.
In Hawkins Fucking Indiana.
Missing.
Eddie had finally figured out a game plan, he was going to watch Steve Harrington for the week, see if he was still the same guy he started crushing on.
Then he was either going to a: ask him out, or b: move on and ask out Metal Head’s Wet Dream.
Simple.
But then the youngest Byers’ was missing.
And Eddie was trying to find Jonathan to ask about the efforts, to see if he and his freaks could assist the freak adjacent.
He was nowhere to be found.
And like the universe knew about Eddie’s plan, and the search for one Jonathan Byers, suddenly there was Harrington and his groupies…and his girlfriend(?) looking over at Byers’ putting up a missing poster on the billboard.
“Oh now that’s just sad.”
Fucking Tommy H.
“What?” Wheeler looked over at Tommy H. after he spoke.
“Just look at him? He’s trying so hard to find his little loser brother, it’s not going to do anything. No one cares.”
Tommy H. rolled his eyes and flung his arm around Carol’s shoulders, mocking laughter escaping from him as he tried to high five Wheeler’s friend (Barb?). And Eddie was about to go over there and wipe that fucked up grin off his face.
Seriously, what the fuck?
“Dude, what the fuck?”
Harrington beat him to it.
What?
Harrington was glaring (GLARING!) at Tommy H. with so much vitriol that Eddie could feel it from down the hall.
“What, man? We were all thinking it?” Tommy H. tried to recover, but it didn’t seem to do anything to calm Harrington down. The beautiful man was just getting more worked up the more his friend spoke.
“Are you kidding me? His kid brother is fucking missing! Have some goddamn compassion for once in your life!”
Harrington’s voice was loud, and now Eddie wasn’t the only one paying attention. In fact, even Jonathan Byers was staring at the group, sad eyes wide and a little bit confused.
“What the fuck has been up with you, man? You fucking cancel our party last night last fucking minute and now you’re fucking defending queers like Byers?! The fuck is up with you?!” Tommy was shouting back, his arm no longer slung over Carol’s shoulders, both of them facing off against Harrington like this was a civil war.
Fuck it might be a civil war.
Eddie did not need to adjust his pants as Harrington squared himself off and looked like he was about to punch Tommy H. right in his fucking mouth. He did not.
(Maybe he did. But it was possible jock on jock violence and Eddie is a weak weak man.)
“Don’t fucking say that shit, you fucking dick.” Harrington shoved Tommy into the lockers and stormed off…towards Byers.
Tommy was busy staring at Harrington’s back as he walked away. So was Eddie. And Carol, and Wheeler, and Holland. Fuck everyone in the hallway was watching the King getting into a fight with his court and fucking walking away.
Goddamn.
Harrington walked right up to Byers, completely confident, and the anger on his face washed away to be replaced by a look of hurt and care and-
Fuck.
That was the guy.
That was the guy Eddie had fallen ass over head for two years ago. Not the copy of himself he had become in high school.
He was still the same guy.
“Hey, Byers…Jonathan…how is the search going?” his voice was soft as he spoke, and Eddie didn’t even know that he knew Byers well enough to call him by his name?
“…hey…Steve…not, not well. No-no one’s seen him…that’s talking anyway.” Byers matched Harrington’s voice and fuck did Eddie want to know what was going on there. Why did they sound like they used to be friends?
“Fuck. Everyone still searching?”
“Yeah, man. Trying not to lose hope but the woods are big, you know?”
“Yeah…” Harrington ran his hand through his hair (his perfect soft looking hair), blowing out a sigh before he seemed to build something up.
“Come on. I know all the good billboards in the school if you actually want people to see the flyers. No one looks at this one.”
Harrington gestured and made to turn, Byers just raised an eyebrow.
“This is the official student billboard?”
Harrington scoffed.
“Yeah and no one looks at it. Come on, man, I’ll show where the party invited get hung. People will look at them there, promise.”
Harrington’s smile was small and private and Eddie felt like he was blessed even as he watched him walk away with Byers to hang up missing person flyers for the youngest Byers.
Fuck.
Now he was even more screwed.
And there was a fucking gig tonight.
Goddamnit.
The set that night was tense and they ended up stopping the show early, no one in the band able to muster the right energy to rock out after Eddie told them about what happened at school.
The bar regulars didn’t seem to mind, many of them trying to drink away the knowledge that somewhere out there is a lost little boy by himself. Fuck if Eddie didn’t want to do the same.
But he made a promise.
He needs to go talk to Metal Head’s Wet Dream. Needs to tell him that Eddie is planning to confess to Steve Harrington after the kid is found.
Needs to tell him to find someone who will make him the first choice.
It’s not fair of Eddie to keep doing this to him. And it’s not fair of him to keep putting Eddie up on this fucking pedestal.
Eddie was a fucking moron.
And probably making the wrong choice here, but Eddie would hate himself forever if he didn’t try and take a chance on Steve Fucking Harrington. And that’s not fair to Metal Head’s Wet Dream.
Maybe he’d start to like his girlfriend a bit more?
Maybe he’ll dump her and find another metal head who wasn’t hung up on a straight guy.
Eddie hopes he does.
Putting away the instruments was a somber affair, even Jeff and Jim were subdued, and he told the guys that he’d take them all home after he talked to the cutie at the bar.
They all gave him various sounds of approval and Gareth gave him a thumbs up and wink.
Man, Gareth was going to call him every name under the fucking sun when Eddie tells him that he’s not confessing to said cutie.
Like the universe knew what was happening, it started to rain.
Of fucking course.
So Eddie was wiping water droplets off his head and shaking out his hair when he walked up to Metal Head’s Wet Dream…who looked nervous?
Oh god was he going to confess again?
“Eddie…”
“Wait, before you say anything I need to tell you something.”
“No, me first. I need to say something too.”
Eddie chuckled sadly to himself.
“No I really think I need to go first, babe.”
“Wait, Eddie-”
“Fuck it, I’m just going say it-”
“I’m Steve Harrington.” “I’m going to confess to Steve Harrington.”
Silence in their little alcove of the bar and Eddie is blinking rapidly, watching the blood rush away from Metal Head’s Wet Dream’s face.
“…what?”
Eddie…is very confused.
“Um-do you, is there-somewhere we can talk about, um, this? Uh…privately?” Wide brown eyes and he’s biting his bottom lip.
Holy fuck.
“Uh, yeah. Um…let’s go to my van?” Eddie doesn’t know what’s going on. He could have sworn he heard Metal Head’s Wet Dream say that he was Steven Harrington…but that’s like…not possible?
As they left the bar, Eddie remembered the rain and sighed heavily before gesturing to his van and getting his keys out and ready to unlock it so neither of them get too drenched.
It doesn’t really help.
Gorgeous managed to keep his hair in a teased mess, but Eddie looked more like a drowned dog.
But that’s life right?
They sat in awkward silence for a bit before Eddie decided to just bite the bullet.
“So…I swore I could have heard you say something about Steve Harrington?”
The bright flush that travelled across the other man’s face was delightful with a capitol D, and Eddie smiled at the sight of it.
“Yeah, um…” so cute.
“Um so…he’s…he’s me?”
Record scratch.
“What?”
“I’m Steve Harrington, Eddie.” He spoke more confidently, locking eyes with Eddie, face screwed up like something smelled bad, and what?
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you? You look nothing like Steve Harrington, man. That’s a shitty fucking joke.”
And Eddie thought he was cute? Thought he was a sweetheart, and here he is trying to trick Eddie? Into what? Dating him??
Why not pull this months ago?
What’s the fucking angle here?
Before Eddie could work himself up into a proper shit fit, the other man rolled down the window and stuck his head out into the rain.
Which was totally metal as fuck, but also, his van man!
He rolled the window back up and pulls a grey bandana out of his back right pocket (revisiting THAT later) and starts rubbing on his face and neck, the light make-up on his eyes smudging.
Wait a second.
There was some tan residue on the bandana now…was he wearing concealer?
The bandana was tossed to the floor of the van and hands were running through wet brown hair, messing with it in ways that Eddie didn’t understand.
He was still very confused.
But then.
Then.
Then he was looking at Eddie and there in his front seat was Steve Fucking Harrington.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to trick you, I really thought you knew who I was that first night…but then you didn’t and then you told me that you were hung up on…on Steve Harrington…I didn’t really know what to do?”
God his confused face was so fucking adorable.
Eddie just sat there, staring at Steve Fucking Harrington in the front seat of van. The same skin tight DIO shirt from the first night, the same distressed jeans, the same leather boots and jacket, silver rings on both hands. Shit it was like they came full circle.
Only this time, Eddie knows his name.
Knows this is Steve Fucking Harrington.
Knows that he has nothing to lose.
“Eddie-?”
“I am so fucking gone for you, man.”
Bright red blush. Score.
Eddie wanted to lock eyes again, wanted to look into those beautiful brown eyes as he laid his heart bare, but Stevie was a bit shy it seems and was looking down to the side.
Eddie didn’t care.
He was getting this out there.
“I am so fucking in love with you, Steve. Have been since you were a little baby freshman and walked into Hawkins High for the first time, so kind, so pretty. And then you turn up at our shows, and shit, babe I might have not known it was you but I fell for you again.
“And all the stuff you said at school today? Standing up to Tommy H? Comforting Byers? I shit you not, I had to cover myself or get in trouble for public indecency. So fucking hot.”
Eddie couldn’t stop the little moan building in his throat as the image of Steve Harrington looking like he was about to punch Tommy H. in the throat. Fuck it was so sexy.
The tomato red blush now on Steve’s face was doing a good job of getting him back into that mindset.
“I’d really fucking like it if you let me take you out and treat you right after baby Byers gets found, if that’s okay with you, sweetheart?”
His breath was caught in his throat now, watching Steve’s face as he seemed to overcome his shyness to look Eddie right in the eyes before he spoke.
“I’ve been a sure thing since before you knew who I was, Eddie. You really don’t have to ask.” And there was that brilliant smile.
And it was Steve Harrington.
Even with the Metal Head’s Wet Dream paraphernalia, the man in his front seat was all Steve Harrington and Eddie was so fucking gone for him.
“You deserve to be asked.”
Fuck.
The bright blush was back, but this time it was paired with the soft smile and the bright eyes and Eddie was just gone. Completely, totally, utterly gone for this man.
“I-I know you said after we find Will…but can you-will you kiss me?”
Eddie didn’t need an invitation.
Nope.
His hand shot across the space of the front seat, cupping one of Steve’s bright red cheeks, tilted his head the right way, and leaned in with zero hesitation.
Their lips connected and Eddie swore there were fireworks popping in his brain, banging and rattling around as a whimper punched its way out of Steve’s mouth and into his.
Fuck.
Eddie tilted his head and deepened the kiss, prying Steve’s mouth open with his tongue and humming in delight at the orange on his tongue from Steve’s Sex on the Beach obsession.
(Mmm there’s an idea…closest beach is probably California, but lakesides are similar, right?)
Steve’s answering moan was just as delicious and-fuck. Eddie could die happy.
Except life doesn’t like for Eddie to have nice things it seems, because he was pulling Steve closer, sliding his hand down his strong back, going for the hem, and Steve had his own hands shoved into Eddie’s back pockets when there was a loud bang on the window.
They jumped apart, Eddie’s heart beating a mile a minute, and Gareth’s shit eating grin on the other side of the driver’s window.
Fucker.
Eddie rolled down the window and glared at his best friend.
“Sorry to interrupt, Eddie, but one of the regulars offered to drop us off at home. We’re gonna go out and join the search party for Will Byers since the set ended early.”
Fuck.
Not the time to be shoving his tongue down Steve Harrington’s throat.
Duly noted.
Eddie just nodded at Gareth and tried to ignore the unsubtle thumbs up his friend gave him as he ran back towards the bar.
Fuckhead.
Eddie rolled the window back up and turned to look at Steve, who had a matching sheepish expression.
They both got a bit carried away there.
But it didn’t stop Eddie from reaching out and rubbing his thumb across Steve’s reddened lower lip.
Fuck he wanted to kiss him again.
Steve just blushed and smiled widely at the action, wrapping his hand around Eddie’s wrist and lightly biting on the thumb tip.
Eddie is going to fucking die, holy shit.
“He had a point, Eddie. We should-we should go join too…”
“…yeah…”
“I mean, I’d love to keep, to keep going…but priorities, man.”
Steve smiled winningly and Eddie would agree to just about anything the man said if he smiled at Eddie like that.
Fuck he was dangerous.
“Yeah, no. I agree. But you’re going to have to stop looking so fucking good, man. I don’t know if I can stop myself from kissing you next time, you know?”
Eddie started the van up and turned the windshield wipers on, raising an eyebrow at the man next to him with a question ready on his lips.
Steve beat him to it.
“My cousin dropped me off. Give me a lift?” The shit eating grin was fucking hot.
Another groan that Eddie failed to keep it, which had the bonus benefit of causing Steven to light up again like a Christmas tree.
“For you, baby? Anything.”
Then Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand, kissed the back of it, and threw his van in reverse.
“Fuck.”
Eddie sighed and leaned back in his seat, trying to stay positive for Steve.
But the other man looked seconds away from combusting in his seat. Knees shaking, fingers fidgeting with Eddie’s rings, eyes not being able to focus on one thing.
His man was a grade A mess.
But they needed to do this.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’re just apologizing.”
“I didn’t even write anything. Those fucking assholes-” Steve’s eyes lit with anger again remembering the horrible things that his “crew” had spray painted on the theater marquee about Byers’ mother.
“Yeah but you were there yelling at them when he found out. We need to explain to him you weren’t part of them.”
Steve let out a huff and brought Eddie’s hand to his chest, clutching it like a lifeline.
“What does it say about me?”
“Hmm?”
“What does it say about me? That after helping him hang up flyers, stopping Tommy H. and them from being dicks, and joining the search parties, that Jonathan still thinks I could do something like that? That it was all just a ploy to really make him hurt?”
Steve was definitely upset.
And he had every right to be.
The one time in the past few days that Eddie wasn’t fucking there for him, and he gets caught up in his clique’s decision to be dicks and got punched by Jonathan Byers…with Wheeler there.
(Wheeler…the girl Steve still hasn’t broken up with because he hasn’t been able to pin her down since Barb went missing…is Eddie the other woman?)
Eddie detangled their hands and cupped Steve’s cheek, using his thumb to pull his bottom lip out from between his teeth where he was biting it.
Steve looked over at Eddie and fuck did he wish that he could take some of this burden from him. Help him out in some way.
But they were still keeping things on the down low, trying to move a little bit forward at a time, so that public Steve started matching up with private Steve.
(God. The first time Steve wore his Metal Head’s Wet Dream pants with a fucking light blue polo? Fuck. Eddie will be seeing that in his dreams for years.)
So Eddie couldn’t be there all the time. Not without people asking some serious fucking questions that they really didn’t have the answers to.
“It says nothing about you, sweetheart. It says more about Byers than anything. He didn’t even let you try and explain.”
Steve huffed again before nodding his head, convincing himself to go up to the house.
Even with his black eye and busted upper lip, Steve still looked delectable. More metal head than preppy asshole today, even wearing a studded belt and a black Bowie shirt, not as metal as he could have gone, but a nice midway.
Delicious.
(But then, Eddie liked all sides of Steve Harrington, Metal Head’s Wet Dream and preppy school jock included.)
“Okay. Okay. I’m going, and I’m going to apologize and then we’re going to go find Nancy so I can break up with her properly and then we’re getting pizza.”
“Sir, yes sir!” Eddie mocked with a little salute and smiled when Steve rolled his eyes.
Didn’t stop him from going in for a peck before getting out of Eddie’s van.
Mmm. Cherry.
Eddie watched with his own kind of nerves as Steve walked up to the Byers’ house. He wanted this to go well, he wanted Jonathan to not be an asshole and possibly be a not asshole friend to Steve…he also was completely prepared to put his mosh pit skills to the use if Byers was going to be a dick about it again.
(Seeing Steve with bruises that were put there maliciously hurt something in Eddie. Something that made a little dragon in his stomach wake up and start to growl. He didn’t like it.)
He watched as Steve hesitantly opened the door, looking back to Eddie with a little bit of confusion before powering through like the confident man he was.
Eddie was not hard thinking about it.
He wasn’t.
He definitely wasn’t when Steve came running out of the house like he was being chased by a mob, fear spread across his face that Eddie could almost smell it.
“Steve?”
“Found Nancy.”
“What?”
Steve was breathing heavy, the door half open as he stared back at the house with wide fright filled eyes.
“Nancy. She pointed a gun at me.”
“She WHAT?!” Eddie was already halfway out of the car, ready to storm in there and tell give that girl a piece of his mind when the lights inside started to flicker through the windows.
“There’s a-a thing in there. Fucking-fucking monster type shit?”
Eddie looked over at Steve and could see the fear waging war with worry and concern.
Fuck.
His man was so fucking good.
His (ex)-girlfriend pointing a gun at him, some monster type shit, and he still wanted to protect them. From a monster.
Fuck.
“Let’s go, babe.”
“What?”
“Grab the knife in the glove box.”
“Why is there a knife in the-holy shit, Eddie this thing is huge?” Steve’s wide eyes and statement really made Eddie want to say something inappropriate.
“That’s not the only thing that’s big, baby.” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at Steve’s withering stare and took the knife, leading his way into the Byers’ house with his hunting knife unsheathed and up in a defensive stance.
“We’re going to talk later how hot you look right now.” Steve whispered into his ear and Eddie repressed a giggle.
They were so stupid about each other.
Then there were gunshots.
And the flirting atmosphere sapped away and Eddie kicked the door open like he was a cop with a warrant.
He did not expect the giant fuck off monster that was hovering over Nancy fucking Wheeler with a fucking gun firing on empty.
The whine Steve let out launched Eddie into the oddest Fight or Flight decision in his life.
Eddie was a flight guy.
He wasn’t ashamed of that.
But Steve was a fight guy (metaphorically, considering he’s a King verbally but less than a Jester when it comes to actual physical fights.) and Eddie wanted to be with Steve forever.
Eddie was learning how to be a fight guy.
So when there was a light push on his back and Eddie watched Steve go for the metal as fuck nail studded back, Eddie ran towards the fucking monster and stabbed it approximately where its liver would be. (If it followed bipedal biology at all).
And then he jumped back and pulled a gun wielding Nancy Fucking Wheeler with him while Steve beat the shit out of the monster with the nail bat.
Steve was beating it down the hallway towards something and Eddie moved to watch what was happening (had to swallow a little extra saliva at the way Steve twirled that bat) Wheeler and Byers coming up behind him.
Then there was a loud clunk.
“Is that a bear trap?”
Wheeler pulled Steve back by the bicep and Byers whipped out a zippo lighter. He flicked it on and tossed it towards the monster once Steve was back in relative safety.
They watched as the thing went up in flames so fucking quickly it might as well have been paper.
All that was left was a closed bear trap and a black spot of ash on the ugly ass carpet.
“Alright, what the fuck?”