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They fly into Indianapolis and rent a car and drive down the winding highway back to Hawkins, and the whole way there, Eddie pointedly ignores him.
After nearly a full hour of this, Steve huffs and says,
“I don’t know why you’re blaming me. I’m not the one who lost your suitcase.”
Eddie gives him a look out of the corner of his eye. “Okay? I’m not blaming you.” He sounds annoyed, as if any of this is Steve’s fault. “It’s fine, I’ll just borrow something of yours. Or Wayne’s. Whatever.”
Steve just rolls his eyes. He reaches forward and clicks the radio on, flipping it over to the Top 40 station just to be annoying, but they’re playing a fucking Corroded Coffin song, one about Steve and his eyes and the way his smile is a light in the fucking dark .
He turns it off and flops back in his seat.
“It’s not fine,” he says after a moment. He glances in the rearview mirror to make sure both the girls are actually asleep in the backseat. “Also, for the record – you’re being a total dick about it.”
There’s rain coming down against the windshield, and the wipers are going a mile a minute, and Steve has his arms folded over his chest as he stares at the gray-brown gloom of the post-harvest cornfields passing by outside.
Eddie gives him a look, and when Steve glances over at him, it’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Nice.”
Steve offers him the fakest smile he can muster. “I’m being the nicest I can be right now.”
“This is the nicest you can be?” Eddie says under his breath. “No wonder you were best friends with Carol Perkins until you were seventeen.”
Steve feels a reluctant smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and he’s fucking annoyed about that too, because he doesn’t want to smile right now, dammit. He wants to be pissed off and annoyed because Eddie’s being an asshole, but instead he’s –
“Fuck off,” he says. He laughs and punches Eddie hard in the shoulder, and this makes Eddie laugh, too. “I’m serious.”
“Very extremely serious,” Eddie says, frowning in mock concern. “The most serious.”
“If you’re not careful, I’m going to take the kids to my sister’s or whatever it is they do in the movies.”
“Empty threat,” Eddie says. “You don’t have a sister.”
“My mom’s, then.”
Eddie makes a dismissive sound, and Steve watches his hands relax on the steering wheel.
“Emptier threat,” he says, smiling a little as he glances over at Steve. “You hate your mom.”
Steve laughs again in spite of himself. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
He flips the radio back on, and the station has moved on to a Britney Spears song, which might actually be punishment enough for Eddie’s bad mood, having one of his songs played back to back with Oops I Did It Again for the entire Indianapolis metropolitan area to hear.
Steve gives him an innocent little smile, and Eddie makes a face at him. His hand lands on top of Steve’s leg, trailing up high with his fingers digging into his inseam. After a moment of quiet, he squeezes his thigh and says,
“Sorry for being a dick.”
Steve lets his hand land on top of Eddie’s, threading their fingers together in his lap.
“Sorry you’re going to have to be naked for all of Christmas,” he says, turning away from where he’d been staring out the window at the rain. “Because I’m not sharing my clothes.”