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Everything Eddie knew about Steve Harrington’s love life, he learned against his will. He knew Steve was dating Nancy Wheeler, because, who didn’t? It was the talk of the school. He couldn’t avoid it. He didn’t personally know anyone who gave a damn, except Jonathan Byers, but he didn’t really know Jon. Just talked to him in passing. Eddie thought there was maybe something going on there, but he spent exactly zero time thinking about it. Just some high school teen romance bullshit.
Bullshit, as it were, turned out to be the operative word.
He was peddling drugs, his usual scene, at somebody's party. Didn’t matter whose. He wasn't usually invited, but his selection was always welcome, and word always got around to him eventually. So-and-so’s parents were out of town, big party at whoever’s house. Somebody was always throwing a party.
So when Halloween rolled around, he gravitated towards the largest gathering, and when Nancy showed up with Steve but left with Jonathan, it wasn’t any of his business, even as gossip started rippling through the party. Oh my God, did you hear what Nancy said? Did you see who she left with? She left Steve for that ?
Then Eddie found himself face to face with a piss-drunk Steve Harrington on the sidewalk, and suddenly, it was very much his business. Eddie had just stepped out for a cigarette but Steve was on a mission.
“Eddie, right?”
“Ah, King Steve,” Eddie said, bowing slightly to him with a small flourish of his hand. He looked Steve up and down, trying to decide if he really wanted to make this sale. Steve had money, he knew that, and he could probably charge anything and Steve would pay it, but he also liked not having a manslaughter charge hanging around his neck and right now, Steve looked like a manslaughter charge.
“What do you have?” Steve cut right to the chase..
“Nothing for you, big boy. Go drink some water or something.” Eddie clapped him on the shoulder and turned to walk away, in his mind calling it a night.
“Big-? Whatever. I’ve got fifty bucks on me. What’d’ya have?” Steve was starting to slur his words. Eddie paused, and resisted the urge to physically walk him back into the house to watch him drink a glass of water.
“I told you, Steve. I’m not selling to you. Whatever you’re on is more than plenty.”
“I’m not on anything,” Steve said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That’s the whole problem.” Eddie looked him over again.
“How much punch have you had?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Well, fifty bucks will get you pretty damn dead, depending on how much you’ve had to drink and what you’re trying to buy,” Eddie said plainly, pinching out his cigarette. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“I’ve got soda in my van. If you wanna buy, I’m making you drink something non-alcoholic.”
Eddie started walking towards the van, parked a little ways down the block, motioning for Steve to follow. He was shocked to find that Steve was still behind him once he reached it. He could usually shake the overly inebriated with that move. Nevertheless, he pulled a coke out of a cooler in the back seat and handed it to Steve.
“Thanks,” Steve said, sounding almost earnest.
“What's going on, man?” Eddie asked, closing the door and leaning against the side of the van as Steve downed half the lukewarm soda in one go. "Talk to me."
“What?” Steve replied, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. His stupid sunglasses were perched on top of his head, hair slipping out haphazardly around them.
“What do you mean, what? You’ve never bought. I’ve sold in your house before. You don’t buy from me, Tommy does. What changed?”
Steve shrugged and moved to lean against the van next to him.
“I really thought she was it…” he started, staring off into nothing. “Nancy, I mean… but…”
“You were wrong?” Eddie ventured a guess. Steve seemed to deflate, and took another sip off the soda.
“Apparently. I thought… thought she loved me…” His voice was starting to shake in a way that made Eddie suddenly regret asking.
“That’s rough,” Eddie said, trying to sound sincere even though he had no reason to care. Really, he was already involving himself more in the situation than was called for, and he didn’t even really know why.
“What do you care?” Steve asked with a blunt edge to his voice.
“Because you’re trying to use me to make yourself feel better,” Eddie said. The I don’t know in his statement was barely concealed.
“I’m not trying to use you…” Steve sighed.
“No, just my drugs. Right. I’m a dealer, Steve, that doesn’t mean I’m irresponsible.” Eddie turned to look at him better as Steve snorted a laugh. “What? What’s so funny?”
“Just didn’t expect that, I guess.”
“What, you think I don’t have principles? God, it’s like you don’t even listen to my lunchtime lectures,” Eddie joked. Steve smiled for real this time, shaking his head.
“Actually, I do. You make yourself hard to ignore.” Oh thank god, they could stop talking about Steve’s tragic love life. Eddie gave him a self-satisfied smile, adjusting himself against the van.
“That’s the idea, Stevie.”
“Stevie?”
“What?”
“Are we really on a nickname basis, Munson?”
Eddie tried to will away the blush creeping into his cheeks. If he were being honest with himself, he’d like to be on a more personal basis than that, but he knew how to temper his expectations. So what if Steve was the single prettiest boy Eddie had ever seen? Who cares if he’d spent way too much time thinking about Steve talking to him? What difference did it make that this exact scenario was the beginning of probably his third favorite Steve-related fantasy? He was a simple man with simple desires, and it wasn’t like he and Steve were ever going to be a thing.
“I’m babysitting you, I’m gonna call you whatever I feel like.” Okay, so the King of Hawkins High was actually making conversation with him. Didn’t mean Eddie had to roll over, or prostrate himself, or be nice.
“So… Stevie?” If Eddie didn’t know better, he would almost think that the lilt in Steve’s tone was him trying to flirt.
“Nothing to say about needing a babysitter, huh? Alright. Would you rather I call you King Steve this whole time?” Eddie finally retorted.
“No… God no… Kind of wish no one would ever call me that again, honestly,” Steve said, crushing the now empty soda can in one hand.
“Really?” Eddie asked, genuinely surprised. He watched as Steve’s face went through any number of emotions before he answered.
“Yeah, really… I didn’t ask for it, y’know?” Steve made a show of throwing the crushed soda can out into the yard and slumped back against the side of the van next to Eddie. “People only call me that because I was the youngest kid to make the varsity basketball team, and I’m pretty sure I only made it because I hit five eight before anybody else.”
Eddie bit his tongue. “Are you serious? That’s why people call you King Steve?”
“That’s where it started, yeah,” Steve nodded earnestly. “You didn’t know that?”
Eddie couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and doubled over, cackling into his hands.
"Sorry, sorry," Eddie said, trying to catch his breath. "Just didn't realize an early growth spurt was the key to success, I guess."
"Whatever," Steve rolled his eyes. "If you're not gonna sell to me, could I at least get another soda?"
"Sure, dude. How about this,” Eddie took a deep breath and let his laughter taper off. “I give you another coke and a ride home and we both forget this ever happened, yeah?"
"You don't need to drive me-" Steve began to protest, and Eddie shut him down just as quickly.
"Oh, yeah, cause you're perfectly good to drive yourself. No. Get in the van."
Eddie walked around and hopped in the driver's seat, reaching back for another coke as Steve climbed in to ride shotgun, slamming the door shut harder than necessary with a huff.
"Here, princess," Eddie teased, handing him the soda. "Put your seatbelt on."
“If you’re just gonna be mean to me, I’d rather walk,” Steve muttered. Eddie couldn’t see much through the darkness, but he could swear Steve was… blushing?
“Your house is on the whole other side of town,” Eddie said. “I’m not gonna let you walk that far. I’ll be nice.”
“You know where I live?”
“I know where all the party houses are.”
“Oh yeah… you said… yeah. Right.” Steve tucked the can between his knees and pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes. Eddie glanced between him and the road a few times, genuine concern starting to grow.
“I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about people calling you King Steve anymore,” he said after the tensest silence he’d ever sat through. “If that helps.”
“What do you mean?” Steve asked. He sounded moments away from tears, and Eddie wasn’t sure what he would do if Steve started crying.
“I mean,” he sighed. “I know what Nancy said to you… Hannah C. was outside the bathroom when you guys… and y’know how she has a big mouth. And I saw who she left with…”
“Jonathan.”
“Yeah. Anyway, word around the party was, well… a lot of not very nice things about you.”
Another long, tense silence. Steve wiped his face on his sleeve, trying to be subtle, but Eddie could see him clenching his jaw and balling his fists so hard his knuckles went white.
“I deserve it,” Steve sighed finally.
“Y’know, if this happened a year ago, I’d probably agree but… right now I don’t think that’s true.”
“It is.”
“No, Steve, I really think it’s not. You…” Eddie paused to collect his thoughts while he navigated his way back to Steve’s end of town. “I hope you didn’t hear what they were saying about you. You used to be a huge dick, sure, but you… I don’t know, you’ve changed. I thought everyone noticed, but I guess not.”
“Changed?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what happened between you and Tommy H. and everybody, but I know you stopped hanging around them. Spent more time with Nancy. She seemed good for you. Made you nicer. Happier.”
That was the moment the floodgates opened. Eddie almost didn’t notice, except Steve’s breath started to hitch as the tears poured down his face.
“Woah, hey,” Eddie pulled over and killed the engine. They were pretty close to Steve’s house, surrounded by trees on all sides. Hardly anyone else lived out this way, so Eddie was pretty sure they would be okay to camp out there for a minute. “Sorry, that was probably the wrong thing to say.”
Eddie hesitantly reached out a hand and set it on Steve’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Steve’s jacket while he cried.
“No, it’s- You’re fine. You’re right, it just… hurts,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice level, trying to stop the deluge of tears to very little avail. He didn’t flinch away from Eddie’s touch, which was the most surprising part.
“Sorry,” Eddie said again. “Honestly I have no idea how you feel, but it sounds like it blows.”
“You’ve never been dumped before?” Steve asked, sounding something between indignant and shocked. Eddie shrugged and shook his head.
“I’ve never dated anybody,” he admitted. He didn’t know what possessed him to tell Steve that, but it was true.
“Never?” Steve sniffled, but sat up straighter, turning slightly to face Eddie. He wasn’t crying anymore. “Sorry, Mr. Rockstar Eddie Munson can’t get a girlfriend?” Eddie withdrew his hand and started combing his fingers through his hair, halfheartedly trying to hide his face.
“I mean. I probably could, y’know, if I wanted to. But girls… not really my thing?” He was glad they were close to Steve’s place and parked, because Eddie was pretty sure Steve would try to make a break for it if he started asking any clarifying questions.
“What does that mean, not your thing?” God damn it.
“It means not my thing. Like. I’m not really… interested.”
“In dating?”
“In… girls?” Eddie was pressed as close as he could be against the driver’s side door, wincing with every word he said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He could practically see the gears turning in Steve’s head as he processed what he was hearing.
“Oh! You’re like… Oh.” Steve suddenly understood.
“Yeah. Oh.” Eddie nodded.
“Well, I guess that makes sense. It’s a pretty shallow dating pool for you in Hawkins, huh?”
“Uh… yeah,” Eddie said, confused. “Steve… Just to be clear, you understand what I just told you, right?”
“Yeah! I mean, I think so. You… you’re into, like, dudes?” He said it so casually, Eddie wasn’t really sure what to do.
“Yeah. And that’s- Sorry, you’re chill with that?”
Steve shrugged. “You’re not hurting anybody.”
“You, Steve Harrington, are full of surprises tonight,” Eddie laughed. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
Eddie restarted the van and made the quick drive the rest of the way to Steve’s house. He was always shocked by the size of it, given its location. Unlike the rest of the rich people in town, the Harringtons decided they needed a mansion at the ass end of nowhere. You could barely see the house from the road, so pulling into the driveway always threw people for a bit of a loop the first time they saw it.
Weird ass rich people.
“Thanks,” Steve said, rolling the soda can between his hands, not looking at Eddie at all. “For, um. For the ride.”
“Sure,” Eddie shrugged. Steve unbuckled his seat belt, but stayed where he was, just staring at his house. There weren’t any lights on, which wasn’t surprising given the time, but there weren’t any other cars in the driveway either. “Steve? You good?” Eddie waved a hand out, trying to get his attention.
“Huh? Yeah, sorry, I just… Nothing. Never mind.” Steve shook his head like he was clearing his thoughts manually and put his hand on the latch, but he still didn’t get out.
“You sure?” Eddie asked, watching him intently.
“Would you- Sorry. No. That… That’s stupid.”
“What is?”
“I… I was gonna ask if you’d come inside, for a while. Um. I don’t… really want to be alone right now.”
“Why me? Why not call one of your d- one of your friends?” Douchebag friends, Eddie almost said, but he remembered his promise to be nice. He figured it was still binding as long as Steve was still in his car.
“Everyone else I know is still at that party,” Steve shrugged. “Plus, they aren’t the kind of people who would make sure I was drinking water. Or… Whatever. You know what I mean." He punctuated the sentence by cracking open the can. Eddie just nodded and turned the van off. Douchebag friends was right, if Steve could trust the local freak more than any of them to make sure he was safe.
“By all means, then, let’s go inside.”
“You’re sure? You don’t have… literally anything better to do?”
“Hey, I said I’d babysit, didn’t I?” Eddie laughed as they got out of the van.
Steve fumbled with his keys at the door but eventually got it unlocked. The house was dark and oppressively quiet. It felt practically abandoned. Eddie started wondering if maybe Steve had been downplaying how often his parents were away. And it really was huge. Without anyone else there, without bodies crowding from wall to wall, Eddie really got a feel for the sheer emptiness of it. It was like some great, gaping chasm had just swallowed them whole. Steve kicked his shoes off by the door and started walking through the house flicking on lights. Eddie leaned back against the door, fighting with the laces on his boots.
“Do you want anything? Water? Beer? I think we’ve got vodka in the freezer if that’s more your speed.” Steve stumbled back to the entryway, still nursing his soda. Eddie smiled, still trying to wrestle his boots off.
“Um, yeah… I’ll take a beer. Probably gonna be here a while,” he said, finally free of his shoes. He hung his jacket up on a hook by the door and scrambled after Steve. He followed him through the house back to the kitchen and leaned in the doorframe while Steve pulled a beer out of the fridge. He popped the cap off and handed the bottle to Eddie.
“What a gentleman,” Eddie joked, staring Steve down as he took a sip.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Steve sighed and leaned back against the counter, almost mirroring Eddie. He looked like he was formulating a thought, so Eddie kept quiet and waited, even though his first reaction was to tease Steve a little more.
“Penny for your thoughts, Harrington?” he said eventually. The deafening silence of the house was unbearable.
“Hm? Nothing,” Steve said, coming back to himself. “Just… Thinking about Nancy.”
“Obviously,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. He came into the kitchen fully and hopped up onto the counter opposite Steve, resting his elbows on his knees, beer held loosely in one hand for him to gesture with between sips. “Tell me about her.”
“What do you want to know?”
“She made you happy, right?”
“Of course,” Steve shrugged.
“Then… What happened? What went wrong?”
Steve thought about it for a long moment, tapping the edge of the can against his lips. “Barbara Holland,” he decided.
“Who?”
“She was Nancy’s best friend.”
“Oh, wait, she went missing last year, right? Yeah, I remember.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Steve scoffed.
“Enlighten me then.”
Eddie thought he had a pretty good idea of the most interesting mystery Hawkins had ever seen. Couple kids go missing, only one came back, whatever whatever. Somewhere in there there was a car chase and a van got flipped, fully ass over kettle, a block away from Jeff’s house. The band spent weeks theorizing what happened to the girl they didn’t find.
“She… Okay. You’re gonna think I’m insane, alright? But I swear to you, I am too drunk to make this shit up. I can’t tell you everything, I’m pretty sure they fuckin’... bugged my house or some shit, we’re really not supposed to talk about it, but I don’t really give a damn right now.”
“Consider my interest piqued,” Eddie said, taking another drink as he settled in for what would turn out to be the most batshit insane story he’d ever heard.
“So Will Byers went missing. That’s Jonathan’s little brother, right?”
“Right. Most exciting thing that’s ever happened in Hawkins, I remember.”
“And then Barb went missing. From here, actually. I had Tommy and Nancy over… I thought she just went home but Nancy looked for her everywhere, no one could find her. So Nance… teamed up with Jonathan, because apparently she and Joyce- Ms. Byers- had seen something, like, weird. Like, a monster. Jonathan caught it on camera. So, naturally, they went looking for it. And… Well, long story short, I thought she was cheating on me, but it turned out she wasn’t. I said some… uncool shit to Jonathan and he… I got what was coming to me. Anyway, I went to apologize for what I said but I happened to show up at, like, the exact moment they found the damn thing.”
“The monster?”
“The kids called it a Demogorgon.”
“Demo- wait, kids?”
“Y’know, all Will’s friends. Bunch of nerds.”
“Clearly. They named the thing after a D&D monster.”
“Yeah, I don’t totally get it, the name, but. Yeah. So we fought the thing, I grabbed a bat full of nails and we just… Went to town on it.”
“Did you kill it?” Eddie was sort of aware of how dumbfounded he must’ve looked, but he didn’t care. He needed details yesterday. This blew even Gareth’s wildest theories out of the water.
“...You believe me?”
“I mean. Kinda, yeah. The kid, Will, they found a body, didn’t they? But he came back anyway? And they never found Barb.”
“Oh, no, we found her, technically.”
“Where?”
“Um… I really shouldn’t…” Steve started shifting anxiously where he stood, stopped being able to look Eddie in the eye. Eddie felt cockblocked.
“Cause the house is bugged? C’mon, Stevie, you can’t leave me hanging on that. Give me something , please.”
“Jesus, do you have any dignity?” Steve laughed, and tipped the can way back to get as much of the soda as he could, and set the empty can on the counter.
“I do not,” Eddie nodded. “C’mon, Steve. Do you want me to beg? I will. Get on my knees and everything.” That made Steve blush.
“Keep it in your pants, Munson. As far as you’re concerned, yes we killed it, and Barb… Oh my god.” Steve stared off into the middle distance, realizing something.
"Oh your god what?"
"I- This is what we were fighting about. Me and Nance. She hated that… we all know what happened but they're covering it up. And I'm… I was totally okay with it."
"Steve, is knowing about this gonna get me put on a watchlist?" Eddie asked. It wouldn't be a deal breaker, he still wanted to know.
"You can't tell anyone." Steve leveled his gaze with Eddie's. "I mean it."
"Cross my heart."
"Eddie… Barbara Holland is dead." Eddie’s eyes went wide.
“Was it… the Demogorgon?”
Steve nodded. “It got her… here. In my swimming pool.”
That oppressive silence filled the house again like dense fog, choking out every other noise.
“That… was an incredibly serious thing to tell me, Steve,” Eddie said quietly. He had so many questions, but Steve didn’t look like he was listening anymore.
“Nancy was right. It’s all bullshit,” Steve muttered, shaking his head. He opened the fridge and pulled out another beer.
“Woah, okay. Do you really think that’s a good idea right now?” Eddie asked, sliding down from the counter. Steve just rolled his eyes at him and grabbed the bottle opener.
“I just had two sodas in half an hour, and I just told you something that, frankly, puts us both in danger. I’m having a beer.” Eddie put his hands up in surrender. He really couldn’t argue with that. Shit, if somebody died in his backyard, he’d probably want to drink about it, too. He watched Steve take a long pull off the bottle and get lost in his own head again. Eddie decided to give him a minute.
“So you’ve really never been dumped, huh?” Steve asked after a while, catching Eddie off guard.
“Yes, really,” he answered, almost laughing.
“Never even, like, had your heart broken by a straight guy?”
“Eh, not really,” Eddie said, lying just a little. “Just figure it’s easier to assume everyone’s straight and just. Not bother with it.”
“You’ve had crushes though, right? Like, you aren’t totally repressed, are you?”
Eddie cackled, throwing his head back. “Yes, Harrington, I’ve had crushes before.”
“Doesn’t that… hurt? Liking someone you can’t be with?”
“Probably not as much as thinking someone is in love with you when they aren’t,” Eddie said. Steve’s face fell, but he nodded. “But yes. It sucks. But you get used to it.”
“Man, that’s sad,” Steve said, smiling again.
“I know, right? Such is the tragedy of being a gay man in Small Town, Middle America,” Eddie sighed dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead like he might faint. Steve giggled into the mouth of the bottle.
“Well, maybe one day when you’re a big time rockstar, you’ll have your pick of gorgeous young men from… New York or whatever,” he joked.
“Dunno about that,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Metal isn’t really a genre chock full of… What did you say? Gorgeous young men?"
“Please. I bet you ten bucks right now, they’ll be throwing themselves at you. I’ll call you in ten years, collect my fuckin’ money.” Steve’s moment of near-sobriety was short lived as he drained his whole beer before Eddie had even drank half of his own.
“Oh yeah, cause you need ten dollars that bad,” Eddie said, gesturing around at the massive kitchen they were standing in to prove his point. Steve pulled two more beers out of the fridge and handed one to Eddie. “Dude, babysitter says slow down.”
“Maybe babysitter should catch up,” Steve retorted, popping the cap off his new beer. Eddie shook his head in disbelief, but chugged the last of his drink anyway. Steve was staring wide-eyed at him as he set the empty bottle on the counter and wiped his mouth. “That’s more like it,” Steve nodded, and handed him the bottle opener.
If Steve noticed that their fingers brushed against each other’s in the exchange, he gave no sign of it, but Eddie felt like his heart was stuttering. He tried to ignore the feeling, and turned to open the beer he’d set on the counter. When he turned back, Steve was gone.
“What the- Steve, where’d you go?” Eddie left the kitchen, looking wildly around the house, wandering down the hall. He found Steve in the living room, sitting on the floor looking through a stack of records. “Christ, Harrington, don’t do that!”
“Don’t do what?” Steve asked, pulling a record out to read the back of the sleeve.
“You can’t just sneak off like that,” Eddie flopped down in the chair closest to Steve. “Makes me look like a bad babysitter.”
“Sorry,” Steve glanced up at Eddie, flashing him the ghost of a smile.
“It’s fine. I mean, you’re safe. You didn’t like, leave the house or something stupid,” Eddie sighed, sipping his beer. Steve stood and moved the cover off the record player and placed the disc and the needle with surprising delicacy.
“You worried about me, Munson?” he asked once the music started.
“As long as I am personally responsible for ensuring your safety, yeah… Is this Queen?”
Steve nodded, smiling, and took a sip of his beer before setting the bottle down on the coffee table.
“Little bit of a genre traitor, are you?” he asked, swaying a bit where he stood. Eddie couldn’t tell if he was dancing or just off balance.
“Please. Everyone and their grandma knows Queen.”
“Well yeah, but still. Cool to know that you’re, like, a whole person and not some… Flat cartoon of a high school weirdo in an after school special.”
Eddie scoffed, putting a hand over his heart, but Steve’s smile was infectious and his stupid little dance was adorable, and Eddie couldn’t keep the grin off his face while he feigned offense.
“I’m hurt, Harrington,” he laughed. “Is that what you thought of me?”
“Not really,” Steve admitted. He spun, sweeping his beer up off the table, taking a drink, and setting it back down all in one motion. “Did always kinda wonder who you really were under all the… Leather and hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Eddie asked, twirling a strand of it in his fingers.
“Nothing,” Steve said softly, watching Eddie’s hand as he played with his hair. “Come dance with me,” he said, clearing his throat, and he held out a hand to Eddie.
“Absolutely not,” Eddie laughed, sinking further into the chair. He wanted to, though. Nothing in the world sounded better in that moment than dancing with Steve Harrington alone in his living room, which was exactly why he couldn’t let himself.
“Oh, come on, please?” Steve was practically pouting. Eddie just kept laughing. “Pretty please?” Steve walked right up to Eddie and took the beer out of his hand, moving it to the coffee table. He grabbed Eddie’s hands and stepped back, pulling gently. Eddie went dead weight, fighting against him. “Ugh, you’re no fun.”
“Yeah, I know.” As soon as Steve was out of his space, Eddie reached over and snatched his beer back off the table. “I’m not here to be fun.”
"You're here 'cause I asked… And you're nice." The gentle smile Steve gave him was almost enough to break through Eddie's carefully crafted facade.
"I'm not nice," he refuted, taking a drink. Steve sat down cross legged on the floor in front of him.
"You are nice," Steve said. He sounded serious, almost sad.
"If I was nice, I would dance with you."
"Then why are you still sitting there?"
"Because, Stevie, you only think I'm nice, but I'm actually very very mean… And serious… And no fun at all." Eddie tried not to stutter, really, but as he talked Steve moved to sit up on his knees and shuffled closer to Eddie and it was starting to throw him off.
"I'll beg," Steve said, almost a whisper. Eddie couldn't tell if Steve was making fun of him or flirting with him. He swallowed hard and just hoped Steve didn't notice.
"Don't- don't do that," Eddie finally managed.
"Why not?"
"Cause one of us needs to have some dignity, and we already established that's not me, so-"
"Why does it matter? There's no one else here."
Eddie sighed. "If I dance with you, will you quit looking at me like that?" Steve wasn't really looking at him like anything, but making eye contact with him while he knelt in front of Eddie was raising some thoughts that Eddie wasn't prepared to deal with.
"Deal," Steve said and gracelessly stood, offering his hand again to Eddie. He took it this time and let Steve pull him up, half wishing Steve would take the stupid jacket off and let Eddie see more of him.
He stood still for a moment, just watching Steve lose himself in music that Eddie would never in a million years choose to listen to himself. Right now, though, the music wasn't so bad if it meant he got to watch Steve dance and smile like he was actually happy. So he made an effort, tried to feel the beat of it, tried to imitate Steve's movements. Steve looked over at him, smiling even wider. Eddie felt like an idiot, probably looked like one too, but he couldn't help but laugh. It didn't take long for his self-consciousness to win out, though, and he stopped to finish his beer, hoping Steve wouldn't think anything of it.
Steve stopped to catch his breath as the record played out, following Eddie's lead and draining the last of his beer.
"Having fun?" Eddie made a grabby hand for Steve's empty bottle so he could throw both away. Steve nodded, smiling brightly, and passed the bottle over.
"Yeah," he answered, still breathing a little heavy. "This is nice. Better than a huge party, having to worry about… Other people, I guess? I can just be myself."
"Am I not other people?"
"You're… different."
"Oh, thanks," Eddie said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned to leave the room.
"Not bad different," Steve clarified as Eddie crossed the threshold back into the hall. Eddie knew Steve wasn't trying to be mean, calling him different, but he thought it was sweet how quick he was to correct himself. "Just. Different. Feel like I don't have to hide from you."
"Yeah, I've been told that before." Total lie. Eddie left before Steve could get a chance to ask questions. He wished he were that kind of person, the kind that people could let down their guard for and feel comfortable around, but he wasn’t. He was loud and obnoxious and kind of a dick, and yeah, maybe that was the front he put up for others, but who was he supposed to drop the act for? Steve? Absolutely not.
He threw away all the empty beer bottles and grabbed the last two out of the tragically understocked fridge. He didn't have the right to speculate on that, he figured, but that didn't stop him. From where he stood… Steve wasn't okay. Not his place to bring it up, though. He heard the music restart in the living room as he popped the caps off both bottles. If all he could do was make sure the guy was safe for a night, then he was determined to at least do a good job of it.
"Here," he said, holding one of the beers out to Steve when he got back to the living room. In his absence, Steve had shed his jacket and sunglasses and had resumed his dance party of one. He stumbled a little bit when he noticed Eddie come in, but he was grinning like an idiot anyway.
"Hey, thanks!" Steve said, doing his best to keep his balance as he walked up to Eddie. "What happened to babysitter says slow down?"
"Babysitter's trying to catch up," Eddie joked with a shrug. He would swear Steve winked at him as he took the beer from his hand.
“I knew you could be fun,” Steve said, taking a drink and resuming his dancing, paying no mind to Eddie at all. Eddie just watched him for a song, sipping on his beer. Steve was captivating to watch. Gorgeous. His hair was a mess, flying all over the place, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Eddie wanted to dance with him, to touch him, feel his skin, spin and laugh and enjoy himself, enjoy Steve.
He got his wish as the next song started. Steve shot him a look, a wicked sort of smile. Eddie didn’t recognize the song right away and just stayed where he was, drinking his beer, leaning against the arm of one of the couches in the room. He watched as Steve danced over to him and pulled the same move as before, taking his drink from him and setting it aside so he could grab Eddie’s hands. And then Steve started singing along as the chorus hit, and Eddie recognized the song. Something something Lover Boy, he didn’t know the name, but Steve was definitely singing it at him. Eddie burst out laughing and let himself be dragged along, following Steve’s lead, if you could call it that, while he danced to the song.
This night was quickly moving up the ranks of Steve-related fantasies.
“You’re not a bad singer, Harrington,” Eddie said as the next song started. He grabbed his beer back off the table and took a sip. He realized while they were dancing that it had been a while since he’d eaten anything, and this third drink was starting to go to his head a bit.
“You think?” Steve smiled, trying to catch his breath. Eddie couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or just drunk by the redness in his face.
“Swear on my guitar. Maybe you should start your own band.” Eddie sat back on the arm of the couch again. Steve snorted a laugh.
“My parents would disown me,” he said like it was a joke.
“Oh, please, they can’t be that bad.”
“They can, and they are.”
“Man, that sucks. Not big artistic expression types?”
“Nah, more like,” Steve started. He took a deep breath and put on as stern of an expression as he could muster. “You need to get a real job, Steven. If you don’t go to college for business and marry a girl who tolerates you and have two point five children and own a house and start a business and make money then what kind of son are you?” He had put on a ridiculous voice that Eddie assumed was an impression of his father. By the end, they had both started laughing.
“Dude, that sounds like my personal hell. Special hell, just for me. Ugh.” Eddie shuddered.
“No kidding. I don’t want to let them down, but…”
“But their idea of what your life should be is a little… How do I put this… Out of touch?”
“It’s completely insane!” Steve threw his arms up over his head, pacing around the coffee table as he talked. “And have they ever asked me what I wanna do with my life? No! Of course not!”
“What do you wanna do?”
Steve stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”
“Well, you said they never asked, so. I’m asking. What does Steve Harrington want to do with his life?” Eddie held his fist out like he was a talk show host with an imaginary microphone.
“I have… no idea,” Steve sighed. His face fell for just a second before he came back to reality. “But it’s not that. I know that for sure. God, I don’t wanna turn into my parents.”
“I hear that,” Eddie nodded, weaving his fingers into his hair.
“What are your folks like?”
“Um, my mom’s dead,” Eddie started.
“Oh… Sorry to hear that.”
“Eh. I mean, it happened a long time ago. I don’t really remember much of what happened,” Eddie said casually like that wasn’t also a complete lie. He remembered every vivid detail, but that was definitely not an appropriate conversation to have yet. “And my dad’s in jail.”
“What’d he do?”
“What didn’t he do, is the better question.”
“Oh, yikes. So, who do you live with? Or, do you have your own place? You’re like nineteen, aren’t you?”
“Almost, yeah. But no, I live with my uncle. Great guy. I don’t wanna be my parents but… Honestly, I wouldn’t mind being Wayne.”
“That’s nice. Having a decent adult in your life.” Steve said it in a way that made Eddie wonder if Steve had anyone like Wayne. It didn’t sound like it. Eddie finished his beer and stood up, moving to the stack of records Steve had pulled out. “What are you doing?”
“This song isn’t very dancey,” Eddie said, pointing to the record player. “But it looks like it’s the last one, so I’m picking a new album… Your music taste is sure something, Stevie.”
“Good something or bad something?”
“Definitely something. Oh, this’ll work.”
“What’d you pick?”
“Billy Idol,” Eddie smiled and turned the album to face Steve.
“How did I know it would be that? You are so predictable.”
“Oh, go to hell, you had no idea what I was gonna pick.” Eddie moved the needle off the record and carefully slipped it back into it’s sleeve, that it could rejoin the pile of Steve’s questionable taste in music.
“Out of a stack of Tears for Fears and Springsteen? Yeah, I kinda had a feeling.”
“Y’know what? That’s fair, actually.”
“Give me that, before you break my… thingy,” Steve said with all the linguistic mastery of a first grader, making a grabby hand at Eddie. Eddie gladly handed the new album over and took his empty bottle as well as Steve’s back to the kitchen.
He started hunting through the cabinets, looking for cups. The first ones he found were wine glasses and, y’know, what the hell, why not be fancy. He filled one with water and chugged it. Then, remembering what Steve had said when they initially got to the house, hunted down the vodka in the freezer. He eyeballed a couple shots worth into the glass he already drank out of and filled the other glass with water before putting the vodka away and heading back to the living room. Steve was leaning against the wall by the record player, evidently waiting for him to come back. Eddie held one of the glasses out to him.
“What’s this?”
“Water,” Eddie answered, taking a sip of his vodka and trying his best not to make a face.
“Why’d you put it in a wine glass?” Steve laughed, examining the drink.
“Why not?” Eddie shrugged. “No, these were just the first cups I found.”
“Ah huh… What are you drinking?” Steve asked, watching condensation form on the outside of Eddie’s glass. Eddie took another sip to stall.
“...Vodka,” he said finally.
“Plain?”
“You hiding chasers in your empty fridge? I don't wanna go back out to my car just for soda.”
“Touche.” Steve pushed himself off the wall, swaying slightly as he moved.
“You still pretty drunk?”
“Not… as drunk,” Steve said. “But definitely not not drunk, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughed. “It shows.” He let himself lean into the buzz a little bit and reached out to take Steve’s hand, partially to help steady him but mostly so he could spin him around.
“Oh, Jesus, Eddie, are you trying to make me dizzy?” Steve asked, laughing, holding onto Eddie’s hand tighter.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not gonna let you fall.” Well, that was a string of words he didn’t think about before he said, but he didn’t give Steve a chance to react as White Wedding started playing. With almost manic excitement, he set his glass down on the table and motioned for Steve to do the same so he could take Steve’s other hand, the way Steve had done to him earlier.
“You gonna sing to me, Munson?” Steve smiled.
“Do you want me to?” Eddie laughed. “This song isn’t really as cute.”
“I’ve never heard you sing,” was all the answer Steve gave. Eddie rolled his eyes, but came in on the chorus. Steve froze for just a second when he started, losing his balance a little as Eddie danced with him, but as promised, Eddie pulled him closer to keep him on his feet. With a little bit of alcohol in his system, he wasn’t being so shy anymore about touching Steve, smiling, laughing, flirting with him. They were drunk, and alone, and Eddie was there to keep Steve safe and cheer him up, so why not have a little fun with it? This was probably going to be his one and only chance to be anywhere near Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take it.
Eddie broke away from Steve as the song ended. This time, he was the one out of breath. He caught Steve staring at him and flashed him a smile.
“What’s up, lover boy?” he asked, grabbing his glass off the table, swirling the vodka around.
“You’re really good.”
“If you think that was good, you should come watch us perform sometime.” Eddie tipped the bitter liquid into his mouth, swallowing the rest of it in one go.
“Say the word, I’ll be there.” Steve drank the last of his water, not noticing Eddie nearly gag, caught off guard by the idea that Steve actually wanted to come to one of their shows.
“Really?” Eddie asked, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, really. Why?”
“People usually aren’t interested.”
“That sucks. They don’t know what they’re missing,” Steve smiled and grabbed Eddie’s glass as he walked past him towards the kitchen, leaving Eddie dumbfounded in the living room. It took a minute for him to come back, but he did, both glasses half full again.
“Steve. Are you drinking vodka?”
“Maybe,” Steve said, pained expression giving him away when he took a sip from his glass. He handed the other to Eddie. “Yours is vodka too, if that’s any comfort. Sorry I don’t have anything to mix it with.”
“How are you feeling?” Eddie swirled the vodka around in the glass to have something to do with his hands.
“Drunk. Not as upset, though. I think… Nancy was probably right. I should apologize to her, though, huh?”
“Oh, probably,” Eddie nodded. “I mean, I’m no expert, but if she was right and she’s upset then yeah, it would follow that you should probably apologize.”
“Yeah… God, I’ll figure something out later… Can’t think that much right now.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it tonight. You’ll get your chance later, when you’re sober. Right now just… Let yourself work the feeling out, or whatever.” Steve nodded, staring into his wine glass before managing to drink about half of it in one swallow. Eddie laughed when he shuddered, but copied the action anyway and set his glass down, motioning for Steve to dance with him again.
They didn’t talk anymore as the record played, just danced with each other, badly and joyfully. They bumped into the furniture and each other more than once, at one point almost knocking their glasses over when they stepped sideways directly into the coffee table.. Between songs, without even having to say anything, they grabbed their cups and clinked them together before finishing their drinks. And then they kept dancing, needing progressively more assistance from each other in order to stay upright, to the point that they were practically holding each other for dear life as the first side of the album played out.
Steve didn’t move to flip it over right away. He stood, gripping the sides of Eddie’s shirt, with Eddie’s arms up on his shoulders, grazing his eyes over Eddie’s face.
“Steve? You okay?” Eddie likewise made no attempts to move away. Steve nodded, still staring intently at Eddie, and pulled him closer. He looked like he wanted to say something, but words never came. Instead, he stepped forward, closing all the distance between them, pressing his chest to Eddie’s, and captured his lips in a kiss.
Eddie hadn’t kissed anyone in years, and it didn’t really count the first time anyway. A game of spin the bottle in middle school. That was all. So he didn’t really know what to do when Steve’s lips were suddenly on his. He sucked in a surprised breath through his nose, but managed to relax and wrap his arms tighter around Steve’s neck to kiss him back. When Steve moved to kiss him again, deeper, Eddie was struck with a moment of clarity. He broke the kiss and gently pushed Steve away from him.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said. Steve’s face fell.
“Why not?”
“You’re- Steve, you’re drunk. You’re really drunk and I can’t… let you do something you’re gonna regret in the morning.”
“Who says I’ll regret it?”
“Don’t, please. Don’t do that. You will. I know you will.”
“Please, Eddie, you- You’re so nice and so pretty and I swear I’m really not that drunk. I know what I’m doing-”
“Steve-”
“If I drink more water, can I kiss you then?”
Eddie sighed. He wanted to cry. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend all night like this. If he could, in good conscience, spend the whole night being kissed by Steve Harrington, he would do it in a heartbeat. He pulled Steve back close to him and rested their foreheads together.
"No, Steve, I'm sorry. I think… It'd be best if we just call it a night, yeah? Get you to bed?"
Steve pulled away. He looked completely heartbroken.
"I don't wanna go to bed," he protested, shaking his head. "I wanna stay up, hang out with you."
"I know, but-"
"I don't have friends like you, Eddie. You… All night you've made me feel like a person, like someone who… deserves to be cared about." And if that didn't just shatter Eddie's heart.
"You do deserve to be cared about, Steve. You do. That… That's why I can't let you do this. This is me caring about you."
"Oh, come on, Eds, don’t do that. I know you wanna kiss me," Steve smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around Eddie's waist. Eddie wanted to cry.
"Yes, I do, but if I kiss you, if I let you kiss me, then I'm taking advantage of you. I'm not- I can't do that, Steve, I'm sorry."
Steve slowly relaxed his hold on Eddie and nodded, understanding. "What time is it?" he muttered. Eddie glanced at his watch.
"Late. Almost four. Come on, man, you need water and sleep."
"Do you wanna borrow clothes to sleep in?"
"What?"
"Well, you can't drive, so I just thought-"
"I don't live very far, Steve, I can-"
"No. No, absolutely not. I'm not letting you drive yourself home like this. Please, I'll drop the whole thing, just. Stay here. We have a guest room. I want you to be safe, too."
"Steve-"
"Eddie." Suddenly Steve looked more serious than Eddie had ever seen him.
"Fine," Eddie huffed. "But only because that last vodka is just now hitting me and I am… Starting to think you're right about me driving."
"Thank you," Steve breathed, resting his forehead back against Eddie's. Eddie was hyper-aware of Steve's hands, warm against his waist. "Clothes?"
"Please," Eddie smiled.
"Upstairs." Steve grabbed Eddie's hand, leading him through the house up to his bedroom.
"Holy wallpaper, Batman," Eddie joked, taken aback by the ugliest brown plaid walls he'd ever seen.
"What? Oh, yeah, it's… My mom picked it."
"Is your mom colorblind?" Eddie asked, trying to suppress a laugh. Steve just smiled and started digging through his dresser.
“Here. They’ll probably fit. Might be a little big, but,” Steve shrugged and handed Eddie a carefully folded Hawkins High School tee shirt and blue plaid pajama pants. Eddie wondered if his mom picked those out, too.
“Thanks,” Eddie took the clothes and turned to leave the bedroom and change. “Um… Guest room is..?”
“Oh, um. Across the hall,” Steve said, pointing in the general direction of the spare room as he stripped his shirt off. Eddie caught himself staring, mentally cataloging the freckles and moles down Steve’s back, and had to force himself to turn around to stop himself from watching. He probably should’ve expected Steve to not be shy about changing in front of people, jock that he was, but it still took him by surprise.
Without another word, he left the room and crossed the hall to the guest room, closing the door behind him. The wallpaper here wasn’t much better, some kind of ugly nature print. Trees, maybe? Eddie wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what Steve’s mom did for a living, but he hoped it wasn’t interior design.
He flopped backwards onto the bed and grabbed a pillow to groan into. This was stupid. Everything was stupid. He’d spent barely more than two hours with the guy and whatever stupid little crush Eddie might have had before, the one he could manage , had surged into something he had no hope of controlling. Steve Harrington kissed him , and wanted to keep kissing him. Yeah, he was drunk, but in Eddie’s experience that wasn’t usually enough to get a presumably straight guy to kiss him, unprompted or otherwise.
He was startled by a quiet knock on the door.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Yeah?” Eddie answered, sitting back up. He didn’t know why he didn’t just get up and open the door, y’know, like a person.
“Can I… come in?”
“Um. Yeah, sure.” Steve stepped into the room, keeping himself pressed close to the door. He glanced around, looking at everything except Eddie.
“Um… I’m sorry. For kissing you. I don’t want you to think I was just using you as a rebound or anything. I really do appreciate you driving me home and, um, staying to make sure I was okay.”
“It’s alright, Steve. Don’t… Don’t worry about it.”
Steve nodded. He looked on the verge of tears again. “Okay. Um. Good night, Eds.”
Later, Eddie would kick himself for not saying wait, stay, I love you, anything. For letting Steve slip away from him so easily.
“Yeah. Good night, Harrington.”
Steve shut the door softly behind him. Moments later, Eddie heard the door shut across the hall. He breathed in and out slowly, trying not to cry himself. He stared at the clothes, still folded up next to him on the bed, and tried to figure out how long it would take him to feel sober enough to drive. Probably not too long, but he was tired. Would it be worth it to stay? Did he really want to be there in the morning once Steve realized what he’d said? What he’d done ? Was Eddie really ready to have that conversation?
He didn’t change his clothes.
Steve woke up well into the afternoon to find a wine glass full of water and a bottle of aspirin on his nightstand. Good thing, too. His head was killing him. It wasn’t until after he took the aspirin and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes that he noticed a piece of scratch paper next to the glass.
Let’s both forget this ever happened.
Hope you’re okay.
When Steve looked in the guest room, there was no sign of Eddie. The clothes Steve had given him were folded, untouched, and sitting on the still perfectly made bed. Downstairs, all evidence of the night before had been cleaned up. The records were put away, and there was one wine glass sitting next to the kitchen sink.
Eddie was gone.