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Steve Harrington was inside the family video near closing time as he meticulously alphabetized the New Releases shelf. He sighed, the stale air of Hawkins clinging to him like a second skin. Life after Vecna was…different. Calmer, sure, but also…emptier. He missed the adrenaline, the feeling of purpose. He even missed the Demodogs, a little.
Then Eddie Munson walked in, a whirlwind of denim, leather, and unruly hair. Steve's stomach flipped. He hadn’t seen much of Eddie lately, both of them trying to navigate the strange new normalcy. Eddie had been working odd jobs, trying to earn enough to finally leave Hawkins. Steve was... well, Steve was still slinging tapes, feeling like a relic in a world that had moved on.
"Harrington!" Eddie boomed, breaking Steve from his reverie. He was holding a crumpled flyer from a local pizza place. "Pizza night at the Munson residence! You in, or are you gonna spend the rest of your life worshipping VHS tapes?"
Steve chuckled, instantly feeling lighter. "Pizza sounds good. What time?"
"Seven sharp. My uncle's making his 'famous' garlic knots. Prepare yourself, big boy!" Eddie grinned, Steve’s face got a little pink..
That night, amidst the questionable décor of Eddie's trailer and the surprisingly delicious garlic knots, Steve felt a spark of something familiar. He and Eddie argued about their favorite horror movies, laughed at Uncle Wayne's conspiracy theories, and even managed to avoid talking about the Upside Down for a solid hour.
It became a regular thing. Pizza at Eddie's, movie nights at Steve's, late-night talks on the hood of Steve's BMW, staring up at the stars and trying to forget the monsters that lurked beneath the surface of their small town.
It was during one of these late-night talks that Eddie started to realize something was shifting within him. He was leaning against Steve's car, watching Steve point out constellations, his voice low and earnest. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of Steve's face, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes. Eddie felt a tug in his chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the summer night.
He realized he was… drawn to Steve. Not just as a friend, or a battle buddy, but as something more. He was captivated by his loyalty, his unexpected intelligence, and the way he seemed to genuinely care about the people around him. He even found himself oddly endeared by Steve's inherent "King Steve" tendencies, the protectiveness and the genuine desire to be a good person.
Eddie tried to bury it. He was a freak, a metalhead, a social outcast. Steve was… well, Steve was Steve Harrington. The former King of Hawkins High, the guy who always seemed to have it all. But the feelings persisted, growing stronger with each shared laugh and each stolen glance.
He confided in Dustin, who, surprisingly, was the voice of reason. "Eddie, seriously? It's so obvious. Just… talk to him. What's the worst that can happen?"
The worst that could happen, Eddie thought, was rejection. Humiliation. Ruining the best friendship he’d ever had.
Meanwhile, Steve was oblivious. He enjoyed Eddie's company, cherished their bond. He considered Eddie a true friend, someone he could rely on, someone who actually got him. He saw Eddie as… Eddie. Wild, untamed, and fiercely loyal.
But then, subtle changes started to register. The way Eddie’s eyes lingered on him a little longer than necessary. The way his hand brushed against Steve's arm a little more often. The way he seemed to hang on Steve's every word.
One evening, after a particularly intense D&D session at the wheeler’s, Steve caught Eddie staring at him. Really staring, with an intensity that made Steve’s heart pound in his chest. It wasn't admiration or amusement. It was… something else. Something deeper.
Steve started to notice the way Eddie’s hair framed his face, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and intelligence. He started to appreciate the little things - the way Eddie bit his lip when he was thinking, the way his fingers drummed a silent rhythm on the tabletop.
He didn't understand it, but he knew something was changing. He found himself wanting to impress Eddie, wanting to make him laugh, wanting to be… closer.
Robin, ever the astute observer, picked up on it immediately. "Dude," she said to Steve one afternoon at the arcade, "you're totally crushing on Munson."
Steve choked on his cherry Slurpee. "What? No way! Eddie's my… he's my friend."
Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, 'just friends.' Tell that to your face, Harrington. You practically light up whenever he's around."
Steve scoffed, but Dustin's words echoed in his head. He thought back to all the late nights, the shared jokes, the quiet moments of understanding. Maybe Dustin was right. Maybe he was crushing on Eddie Munson.
The realization was unsettling, but also… exhilarating.
Finally, Eddie, fueled by Dustin's encouragement and a healthy dose of self-loathing, decided to take a leap. "Hey, Harrington," he said, catching Steve at Family Video. "I was thinking… maybe we could, like, go out? You know, just the two of us? Like… a date? But not a date, unless you want it to be." He cringed internally. He was butchering this.
Steve stared at him, dumbfounded. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. "I'd like that, Eddie. A date. Or not a date. Whatever you want."
They decided on Enzo's, a slightly fancy Italian restaurant in the next town over, far enough away to avoid any awkward run-ins with the Hawkins High crowd.
Steve agonized over what to wear. He finally settled on a button-down shirt and jeans, hoping to strike the right balance between casual and… date-appropriate.
Eddie, surprisingly, was even more nervous. He borrowed a clean denim jacket from Uncle Wayne and spent an hour trying to tame his hair.
The dinner started awkwardly. They talked about everything and nothing, avoiding the elephant in the room. The waiter hovered, refilling their water glasses with an unsettling frequency.
The red-and-white checkered tablecloth felt stiff beneath Steve's sweaty palms. Enzo's was nicer than any place he usually take himself to, a far cry from Family Video, but he'd wanted tonight to be special. Across from him, bathed in the warm, flattering light of the hanging lanterns, Eddie Munson was animatedly gesticulating, spewing forth a story about a particularly disastrous D&D campaign.
Steve found himself less focused on the narrative and more on Eddie. His dark, curly hair was perpetually falling into his eyes, which shone with manic energy. He was wearing a band t-shirt, naturally, worn thin and faded. He looked good, in a chaotic, unkempt kind of way. And, Steve realized with a small, almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, he smelled…interesting. A mix of weed, something like motor oil, and, underneath it all, a surprising hint of something earthy and sweet.
He’d never noticed it before, not properly. He’d always been too busy being annoyed, or condescending, or just plain scared during their encounters in the Upside Down. But tonight, bathed in the romantic ambiance of Enzo’s, the scent was intoxicating.
“...and then, Vecna, right? Freaking Vecna, decides to turn my prized miniature dragon, Puff, into a sentient…sock puppet!” Eddie wailed, throwing his hands up in mock despair.
Steve chuckled, the sound a little breathless. “A sock puppet? Seriously?”
“I’m not even kidding, Harrington! A sock puppet! The ultimate humiliation for a mighty dragon.” Eddie grinned, the flash of his slightly crooked teeth sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through Steve.
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Well, I guess even dragons have their off days.”
The conversation flowed, a surprisingly easy mix of sarcastic barbs and genuine laughter. They talked about everything and nothing, the Upside Down, carefully skirting around the trauma, D&D (Eddie's passion), and even Steve's wanting to maybe get into music.
As the evening wore on, Steve found himself increasingly drawn to Eddie. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he ran a hand through his unruly hair when he was thinking, the way he managed to make even the most mundane things sound fascinating.
And then, the moment arrived. As they stood outside Enzo's, bathed in the cool night air, Eddie turned to him, his eyes suddenly serious.
"So," he said, his voice low, "Did...did you have a good time, Harrington?"
Steve swallowed hard. "Yeah, Munson. I did."
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Steve could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a frantic drum solo against his ribs. He looked up at the night sky, a million tiny pinpricks of light against the vast darkness. Funny, he thought, how he used to wish on stars as a kid. He didn't even know what he'd wish for now.
Then, Eddie reached out, his hand brushing against Steve's. A jolt arced through him, shocking and exhilarating. He looked down at Eddie's hand, calloused and scarred, but surprisingly gentle.
He looked up again, into Eddie's eyes, and saw a vulnerability there that he'd never noticed before. A vulnerability that mirrored his own.
And then, without another word, Eddie leaned in and kissed him.
The world tilted.
Steve's brain short-circuited. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, his mind a blank slate. Then, something inside him clicked into place, and he responded.
He kissed Eddie back, tentatively at first, then with a growing urgency. Eddie's lips were soft and warm, surprisingly gentle. The taste of wine and something vaguely metallic clung to him. Steve's hands came up, instinctively, to cup Eddie's face.
The kiss deepened, becoming more demanding, more desperate. Steve felt a rush of heat flood his body, melting away his inhibitions. He pulled Eddie closer, wanting to erase the space between them.
He tasted like freedom, like rebellion, like something Steve had been craving without even realizing it.
When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Steve was left shaking. He looked at Eddie, his eyes wide and dazed.
"Wow," he managed to croak.
Eddie just grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah. Wow."
The drive back to Steve's house was a blur. He couldn't stop glancing over at Eddie, the memory of the kiss still burning on his lips. He felt like he was walking on air, teetering on the edge of something incredible.
When they pulled up to the curb, Steve killed the engine. The silence in the car was deafening. He turned to Eddie, his heart pounding.
"Want to...come inside?" he asked, the words barely a whisper.
Eddie met his gaze, a flicker of something intense in his eyes. "Do you want me to?"
Steve didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I do."
He led Eddie inside, the familiar surroundings of his house suddenly feeling strange and new. He knew, with a certainty that surprised him, that tonight was going to be different.
He closed the door behind them, locking it with a decisive click. He turned to face Eddie, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, taking in the mundane details of Steve's life: the worn-out couch, the stack of VHS tapes, the half-finished crossword puzzle on the coffee table.
Steve walked towards him, his senses hyper-aware. He could smell the familiar scent of weed and car grease clinging to Eddie’s clothes, but tonight, it was intoxicating.
He stopped in front of Eddie, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of Eddie's jaw.
"You know," Steve said, his voice low and husky, "I’ve always wondered what you smelled like."
Eddie smirked. "Probably like trouble."
"Maybe," Steve said slowly, a smile appeared on his face, "But I think I like trouble."
He leaned in and kissed Eddie again, a slow, deliberate kiss that sent shivers down his spine. He felt Eddie's hands on his waist, pulling him closer.
This time, the kiss was more urgent, more demanding. Steve’s tongue darted out, tasting Eddie, exploring the contours of his mouth. He could feel Eddie’s body trembling against his.
He broke the kiss, breathless. "Bedroom," he managed to say, his voice thick with desire.
He didn’t wait for Eddie to respond. He took his hand and led him down the hallway, towards his room.
His bedroom was a mess, surprisingly a contrast from the rest of the house. Clothes strewn across the floor, magazines scattered on the desk. But he didn’t care. All Eddie cared about was Steve
He turned to face him, his eyes searching. He wanted to be sure.
Eddie nodded, his eyes dark with desire. “Yeah, Harrington. Let’s.”
Steve reached out and started unbuttoning Eddie’s shirt, his fingers trembling slightly. He pulled the fabric apart, revealing Eddie’s chest. A constellation of freckles was scattered across his skin, mirroring Steve’s own moles.
He looked up at Eddie, a question in his eyes. Eddie just smiled, a slow, knowing smile.
Then, he reached out and started unbuttoning Steve’s shirt.
The clothes came off quickly, discarded in a tangled heap on the floor. Steve stood before Eddie, bare-chested, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He was acutely aware of his moles, scattered across his chest and shoulders like a messy constellation.
Eddie reached out and traced one of the moles with his fingertip. “You look like a starry night,” he whispered.
Steve’s breath caught in his throat. He’d always been self-conscious about his moles, but the way Eddie said it, it made him feel…beautiful.
He reached out and ran his hand through Eddie’s unruly hair. “You smell like weed and car grease,It smells..good.” he said, a playful glint in his eye.
Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, well, you smell like…fruit? Ugh! Don’t forget the hairspray smell!”
They both laughed, the sound echoing in the small room. The laughter faded, replaced by a palpable tension.
Steve leaned in and kissed Eddie again, a long, lingering kiss that left them both breathless. He pushed Eddie back gently onto the bed, following him down.
He straddled Eddie, his hands braced on either side of his head. He looked down at him, his eyes filled with desire. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
Eddie looked up at him, his eyes burning with passion. “Yeah, Harrington. This is more than okay.”
Steve lowered his head and kissed Eddie again, his tongue exploring every inch of his mouth. He felt Eddie’s hands running up and down his back, sending shivers of pleasure through him.
He moved down, kissing Eddie’s neck, his chest, his stomach. He felt Eddie’s body arching beneath him, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He wanted to savor every moment, to memorize every touch, every sensation. He wanted this to last forever.
He paused for a moment, looking up at Eddie. “I…I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
Eddie reached up and cupped Steve’s face in his hands. “You won’t,” he said, his voice husky. “Just…be with me.”
Steve nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. He lowered his head and continued his exploration, kissing and licking every inch of Eddie’s body.
The night stretched on, a blur of kisses, touches, and whispered words. They explored each other’s bodies, learning each other’s secrets. They pushed each other to the edge, teetering on the brink of oblivion.
Finally, as the first rays of dawn began to peek through the window, they reached the summit together, a shared explosion of pleasure that left them both gasping for air.
They lay entangled in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison. The room was filled with the scent of sex and something else, something deeper, something more profound.
Steve looked down at Eddie, his eyes filled with tenderness. Eddie looked back at him, his eyes shining with a newfound vulnerability.
He knew, in that moment, that something had changed. Something significant.
He didn’t know what the future held. He didn’t know if this was just a one-time thing, or if it was the beginning of something more.
But he knew, with absolute certainty, that he wouldn’t forget this night. He wouldn’t forget the taste of Eddie’s lips, the feel of his skin, the way he made him feel.
He wouldn’t forget the starry night freckled across Eddie’s chest, or the smell of weed and car grease that clung to his clothes.
He wouldn’t forget the night he fell for Eddie Munson.
And, he suspected, Eddie wouldn’t forget him either.