Chapter Text
Eddie loved his job. Really, he did. Josie's Mechanics was amazing, ignoring the fact that it was the only place that actually considered him. But it had its faults.
One being that it's usually slow enough that he spent half his time writing music lyrics, planning his next D&D session, or doodling all over his notebook. Because of this, he usually loved it when Josie directed everyone that came in toward him.
Cars are one of the only "manly" things that Eddie liked. He supposed that's the only thing he can thank his old man for. If it wasn't for him, Eddie would have no idea how to break into a car and hot wire it in under a minute by the time he was 10.
Correction: Wayne's the one he's got to thank for this job.
Anyways, he loved his job, and he loved Josie. Except for today.
It has been slow all week, but today seemed extra slow. It was a chilly November day, and Eddie had busied himself with relaxing, his feet propped up on the desk, and (finally) writing the adventure he had planned for the Hellfire Club. He definitely didn't just start today, and he definitely didn't need it done in three days. Anyone who said otherwise is a liar and trying to sell you something.
He was mid monologue when Josie's southern accent broke through his thoughts, as well as the smack to his legs.
"Oi, Munson!"
"Ah- Jesus," He quickly sat up straight, removing his headphones. "What Josie?"
"This one's yours. Won'tcha 'ave some manners, too."
She returned to her office, leaving Eddie alone in the garage with a dark red BMW and none other than Steve "The Hair" Harrington.
Eddie groaned, but got up none-the-less and sauntered over to the younger man, hands in his half-down overalls' pockets. As he got closer, he could see the red marks that covered his face. Eddie was quick to decide that the universe has taken mercy on it. For a few reasons.
Reason number 1. Steve Harrington was a grade A asshole.
Munson can admit, he was fine in Elementary school. It wasn't until he hit puberty and became best friends with Tommy Hagen and Carol Perkins that he started being a dick.
Number 2. He probably deserved it.
As mentioned before, he's a fucking dick, and Eddie is fine with his ass being beaten. Whatever happened to cause a fist to connect with the brunette's face, he 100% pissed someone off and deserved it.
Number 3 (the worst one). Eddie was a hopeless fucking dumbass.
Despite all of the very valid reasons Eddie had to hate the jock, he doesn't. Well, he does, but the gigantic, embarrassing crush that he has on Harrington outweighed it. Look, he didn't like it anymore than you do, but the guy's hot, and Eddie's heart doesn't listen to the insults that've been thrown at him.
Basically, Eddie was fine with anyone who wanted to destroy the gorgeous face in front of him, and he is fine with ignoring his heart telling him it made the guy more attractive.
He crossed his arms once he was in front of Harrington.
"What do you need Harrington?" He didn't bother with the usual customer service voice.
"I- uh," Harrington glanced at the closed office door. "The check engine light came on?"
"And?" The metalhead raised an eyebrow.
"And... That means you need to check it... right?"
Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You didn't look at it or anything? See if you could just fix it yourself before spending God knows how much on a mechanic?"
"I- I don't know cars all that well."
If he was being honest, and who is Eddie if not an honest man, he's surprised. He figured that if anyone knew how to fix a car, it'd be King Steve himself. Though, he supposed that royalty could just pay lowly peasants like himself to do it instead. Why put in the work if you have the money?
"Right. Pop the hood."
The jock did as he was told and Eddie took his sweet ol' time to look.
He's serving the King himself; he needed to make sure he did it right. The fact that the man got paid by the hour wasn't important.
A few minutes passed and absolutely nothing looked wrong. Eddie checked the battery, the transmission, and the plugs. Hell, he even checked the light to see if it was faulty. Nothing. Everything was fine in Steve Harrington's pretty little car.
Pristine even.
"So, what's uh, what's wrong?" Harrington asked.
He was behind Eddie the whole time. He was looking around with his hands in his pockets like an awkward kid waiting for his mom to stop catching up with her friend at the store. It was adorable.
But he wasn't adorable because Eddie would never think that about a Harrington. Totally. Besides, now Eddie had to admit that he had no idea what's wrong with his car and that was the last thing he wanted to do, but alas, he must.
He had no other choice.
"I don't act-"
Wait a minute.
Eddie walked around the car to the door of the gas cap and opened it. He squatted down to inspect it, sighing once realization hit him. His head fell into his hands.
"What is it?" Harrington's voice is shockingly close. When the mechanic looked up, the man was standing over him.
He stood up, face to face with the younger man. With a raised eyebrow, he turned the gas cap.
Click!
The jock's eyes squinted in confusion.
"The cap was loose."
"Oh." Harrington gave him a sheepish smile, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. Then he began to search his pockets. "Sorry for wasting your time, man. I haven't been in the uh... best headspace. How much do I owe ya?"
Eddie didn't know why he did it. Some may say it was his stupid, hopeless crush on the man or that he even felt bad for him. But Eddie didn't think it was either of those. He truly didn't know why, but he waved away the wallet with an eye roll anyway.
"Don't worry about it."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, man. It's so small that I don't even think we have a price for it. Besides, today was boring as shit, so thanks for a bit of entertainment." His hands found their way into his pockets once he was done talking with them.
Eddie tried his best to look anywhere but Harrington. As well as ignore the heat that began to cover his face.
It's just hot out. It's the only explanation. Of course, that's ignoring the fact that it's the middle of November and already freezing outside.
"How about I entertain you some more?" Steve asked.
Christ, if Eddie's face wasn't already red before, then it definitely was now.
"I- uh, I mean like-" Steve stuttered and- was he blushing? Why the hell was Steve "The Hair" Harrington blushing? "God, that didn't come out right- I was trying to, like, play off of what you said with the whole entertainment thing, but it just sounded like I was trying to- but I wasn't. I- what I am trying to say is: can I get you lunch? As payment."
Laughter burst from Eddie's chest. He almost doubled over from the surprise of it. Instead, he patted Harrington's shoulder on his way back to the desk.
"Sure, man. I get off in 20."
"Cool, uh, g-great."
Jesus Christ, why was he doing this to himself? Hanging out and getting lunch with your very straight crush who's also supposed to be an asshole was a great way to get his ass beat. Yet here he was, having lunch with the enemy.
It better not become a habit.