Chapter Text
Steve’s head hurts. He’d definitely had too much to drink last night and now he’s paying the price. And because a headache wasn’t enough, Tommy H and Carol are already arguing downstairs. Awesome. He sits slowly and there's a quiet groan next to him. This day just gets better and better. Steve’s hookup, who he honestly cannot remember, is face down into the pillows, clad in a black shirt, with dark curls brushing her shoulders. Steve moves subtly and quietly as he can out of the bed, grabs a pair of sweatpants from the laundry basket, and slips out the door.
He can start to understand what's being said as he enters the kitchen. Carol is sitting at a bar stool, complaining about her math final, as Tommy raids the cabinets and tells her to ‘just cheat’ if she’s ‘sooo worried’. They’re talking far too loud, but stop when they spot him. Carol throws a look his way. “Ew, Steven, put a shirt on.”
“You can’t make me.” Steve takes in the state of the kitchen, Solo cups, open bags of chips, and empty bottles scatter the counter. “What happened?”
Tommy follows his gaze and grins. “The party of the year happened, Stevie boy. Party of the fucking year!”
In Steve’s opinion it looks more like a tornado blew through his house and he’s gonna have to clean it up, but Tommy is probably right. It's not like anyone cares about the post-party mess, no one except Tommy and Carol stay long enough to see it. And the girl upstairs, whoever she is. Which he should find out, but first.
“Please tell me one of you made coffee. I’ll actually kiss you right now if you tell me you made coffee.”
Tommy hands him a mug. “I’ll pass on the kiss, Harrington. Maybe just five bucks instead?”
“Ha ha. No chance.”
Carol pouts dramatically and at the same time she and Tommy start whining. “But Steeeeve.”
He cuts them off with a flip of his middle finger. “Shut it. Either help with the mess or go home.”
The request earns a round of genuine complaints, but they grab trash bags anyway. They always do, it's why they’re Steve’s only real friends. He’s friendly with plenty of people, the dozens of cups can attest, but Tommy and Carol are the two that actually know him. They were there before ‘King Steve’ was crowned after the quarter-finals in fall. They were there for freshman Steve, with his cracking voice, failed trick shots, and chronic acne.
The kitchen and living room have been cleared when Steve realizes the girl still hasn’t come down. It’s half past ten and he hasn’t heard a thing. So, as Tommy fishes a pair of shoes from the pool, Steve heads upstairs. He's happy to find the rooms empty and clean, save one half-full bottle of vodka, but the relief is replaced with confusion when he realizes his room is empty, too. He’s starting to think he’s been hallucinating that morning when Steve notices the window is open. Bold move . He takes the opportunity to change, pulling on jeans and an ABBA shirt before doing a sweep of the room.
He finds a necklace on the floor, black pendant with writing Steve is too hungover to bother reading. He drops it onto the bedside table, he can find who it belongs to on Monday. The only other evidence of the girl are the stained sheets, so he strips the bed.
Tommy and Carol are leaving when he makes his way down the stairs. They both call out their parting messages.“Bye, Steve, see you Monday!” “See you Monday, man. Don’t forget about your chemistry homework.”
After a final bit of clean up and hauling four garbage bags to the garage, Steve does actually do his homework. You’d think that with one week of school left, there wouldn’t be much to do, but he’s got three tests and two presentations coming up in the next week. He spends the whole weekend studying. It’s dull but probably worth it.
When Monday rolls around, Steve has nearly forgotten about the necklace. Only the glint of silver reminds him to grab it and stuff it into his jeans before he rushes out the door. He asks Tommy and Carol about it first, as they walk to first period. Neither of them recognize the thing or have any clue who it belongs to. Carol tries to read the words, but ends up throwing the thing back at Steve, declaring the writing “too small”.
Steve keeps asking, just the people he sits next to in class, the basketball team, a few girls that have dark curls.
When he offers the thing out to Eddie Munson during French the guys eyes go wide and Steve thinks he might at least have a lead, but all he gets is a couple questions and wish of good luck on his “quest for the mystery girl.” when he says he doesn't remember who it was.
So no one claims the necklace, no one can point him in any direction. He still has the silver chain in his pocket when he goes home. Eddie’s voice sticks in his head, and he swears he can connect it to something, but the memory just isn’t there. He chalks it up to Munson’s famed lunch table speeches.
On Tuesday, he asks more people, going beyond his usual circle of athletes and cheerleaders, asking band kids, nerds, and anybody else he even vaguely knows from his grade about the necklace. He expands the circle further on Wednesday, further again Thursday. He keeps Munson updated, though he doubts the guy cares, with “no luck on the quest” each day as he drops into his seat in fifth period.
By Friday, he's made his way through the entire sophomore class. He’s considering giving up, sick of the head shakes and apologetic shrugs, when a freshman girl walks up to him during lunch.
She gets straight to the point when Steve looks up at her. “My friend said you were trying to find the owner of a necklace.” He nods. “She said there was writing on it. Well, we figured it out. Corroded Coffin? They’re a band. The only person I know in it is Gareth.” Then she gestures over to a table by the windows. “The one with the red vest. He might know whose it is.”
Steve nods again. “Thanks.” The girl nods, and makes her way to a table on the far side of the room, dropping between two kids with glasses that turn away rapidly in an attempt to seem like they weren’t staring.
Steve considers going over right then, but Tommy and Carol appear across the table and he doesn’t get around to it. Luckily he catches the guy in the hall as people are leaving.
“Hey, somebody told me you might know who this thing belongs to.”
Gareth nods when Steve pulls out the necklace. “Yeah, that’s Eddie’s.” He glances around and points down the hall. The man in question is at the moment pushing his way past a group of band kids.
Steve gives Gareth a nod. “Thanks.”
The guy shrugs. “Sure.” Then he ducks down the hall.
Steve can’t pay attention in fourth period. It's just gym, though and the last day, so he’s just doing free throws with Tommy. He misses most of the shots, mind caught up in thinking about Eddie and the necklace. It seems obvious in retrospect. The wide eyes when Steve has brought out the necklace on Monday, the pressing questions. And now that he’s thinking about it harder, the faintest memory focuses a bit in his head; dark curls, soft lips, and ringed fingers. And, yeah, that's why he knows Eddie’s voice. He’d heard it– calling him pretty, murmuring praises, whining his name– as he’d sunk into bed with the guy.
Maybe he should feel ashamed or sick, he’d slept with another guy, for god’s sake. But he mostly just feels bad and kinda stupid about not recognising the man or putting together the clues he’d been given. It's pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk about it, so Steve doesn’t say anything when he sits down in Madame Perkins’ class. He just sets the necklace on the desk, pushes it Eddie’s way, and does his best to focus on the final.
When class ends he leaves without a goodbye, walks right to math. That final was done Monday, so half the class ditches, but Steve goes, sits and looks out the window as Mr. Brant tries to maintain a semblance of order. He really wants to talk to Eddie, apologise for not realizing and for keeping his necklace for a week.
He also wants to promise he won’t tell, not that it matters. Steve has already heard, often whispered and sometimes shouted, freak, psycho, queer, when the guy passes in the halls, answers questions in class, stands on tables during lunch. But cruel names and baseless rumors are one thing. A story told by Steve the King of Hawkins High? Eddie could actually get hurt over something like that.
So when the final bell rings, Steve goes to what he knows is Eddie’s locker. It's easy to spot ‘the freak’ is written across it in blocky markered letters. It gets washed away sometimes, but always pops back up. He’s not sure who even does it.
Tommy looks at him weird when he stops. “Dude, school is over. Come on.”
Carol pops her gum. “You said we could use your pool.”
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you there. I just gotta do something first.”
They shrug and leave, offering waves as they go.
Eddie appears in the hall a moment later. Steve leans against the locker when he notices that Eddie isn’t going to open it. Looking out at the hall, he realizes this isn’t really a great place for the conversation, but he doesn’t have any other ideas. They both stay silent as the hall empties.
Steve only speaks once everyone is gone. “You could've just told me.” He turns to face Eddie. Saved me the trouble.”
Eddie doesn’t look at him. “I thought you’d hit me. Still think you might.” The words come out shaky and he wants to scream.
He opts, instead for “Why would I? I’m the one who kept your shit for a week cause I couldn’t remember who you were. Sorry about that, by the way.”
At that, Eddie looks his way, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious?” Steve just shrugs. Eddie starts waving his hands. “I’m a guy, Steve. You hooked up with a guy. That’s pretty solid grounds for violence. Aren't you even a little upset?”
“No.” And he isn’t. “Just wish you would’ve told me so I could apologise.”
“Apologise?” Eddie is now looking at Steve like he’s actually lost his mind.
Steve nods. “Yeah. That was the end goal of the quest for the mystery girl. Return the necklace and apologise for whatever I did that made her literally jump out the window.” He tries for a joke with the last bit, but it seems to fall flat as Eddie dips his head.
“You didn’t do anything. I just figured… I dunno you wouldn’t be too happy with my presence once in a non-inebriated state.”
“Oh.” He’s not sure what to do with that. “Well, sorry anyway.” Steve pulls at the strap of his bag and starts to leave. “See you around.”