Chapter Text
“Yo, Steve!”
Steve turned away from his car to face Tommy.
“What’s up, man?”
“You busy right now?”
“I gotta work in an hour, why?”
“Can you give me a ride to the Hideout?”
“Dude, it’s on the other side of town.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’ll be worth your while this weekend.”
Steve eyed Tommy suspiciously. “What’s this weekend?”
“Carol’s throwing a party, and we’re going all out. Like, I’m talking fucked up, completely annihilated. Real booze, not just beer. Pills, weed. You name it.”
Steve started nodding. “Nice. Who sells at the Hideout, though? Some big, biker dude?” He clacked his teeth together, apprehensively. “I don’t know man, maybe we better stick to Argyle.”
“Argyle doesn’t sell pills, man. And he charges a premium for his weed since it’s from out of town.”
“Wait, you don’t mean Munson, do you?” Steve threw his head back and groaned. “You know he’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, he’s a fuckin’ freak,” Tommy agreed, “but he’s got pills and good prices.”
Steve pursed his lips. “Fine, man, get in, but we can’t be long. I can’t be late for work.”
“Why? Scared you might piss off the band geek chick? Who cares?”
“Her name’s Robin,” Steve corrected. “And she always covers my shifts when I ask, so yeah, I’m scared to piss her off.”
“Why don’t you just date her? You gotta move on from Nancy sooner or later.”
“I am moved on. I just don’t give a shit about dating right now. Okay? Besides, she’s not my type.” He didn’t tell Tommy that he wasn’t her type either, or that Robin was becoming more of a best friend than a co-worker to him since they spent hours together working at Scoops Ahoy. They had to bond sooner or later. He’d even told her he was bisexual. Nobody else knew.
“Whatever you say.”
Steve waited for ten minutes before he lost patience and went inside to see what the fuck was taking so long.
Metal invaded Steve’s ears the minute he walked in. It wasn’t super busy, but a lot of the chairs were filled up, and the place was dim and foggy with smoke. He felt like he was bathing in an ashtray.
He found Tommy sitting at the bar.
“Dude, what the hell’s taking so long?”
“I don’t know. I’m waiting on Munson, fuckin’ freak hasn’t showed yet.”
Steve frowned. “Whatever, I’m gonna go take a piss. If he doesn’t show, we’ll find your shit somewhere else.”
Tommy looked annoyed but he gave Steve a small nod.
Steve glanced around for the bathroom signs and headed that direction.
He pushed the rickety door open a little too forcefully causing it to bang against the wall, resulting in a loud echo spreading throughout the bathroom.
“Shit,” a voice muttered from one of the stalls.
Before Steve could even unzip at the urinal, a man came stomping out of the stall, adjusting his belt buckle and whipping open the door to the bathroom much the same way Steve had when he’d entered. He thought he heard the guy call him a fucking asshole under his breath too.
“What the hell did I do?” he asked himself.
“You interrupted him.”
“Jesus,” Steve hissed. He’d thought the bathroom was empty now.
He looked beside him to see who the fuck was talking to him while he was taking a piss, and there was Eddie Munson himself, smirking at him.
“Interrupted him from what? Taking a dump? Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Oh, you’re probably right,” Eddie said, taking a place right next to Steve and unzipping himself.
“Dude,” Steve said. “There are like six urinals, can’t you move down?”
“No,” he said simply. “I like this one.”
Steve rolled his eyes. He had to resist looking over to see what Eddie was packing; he’d heard rumors that he had a snake for a dick since he was into all that satanist crap. Steve didn’t believe it, but still.
“You know we’re waiting on you, right?” Steve asked, flicking his eyes to Eddie’s. Don’t look down, don’t look down.
Eddie’s brown eyes flashed to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tommy? He said you were supposed to meet here. For the deal?” Steve raised his eyebrows. Was Munson dense or something? He must’ve been since he’d been held back twice.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie bit. “It’s after 3 already?”
“Yeah, man. We don’t have all day.”
Steve stuffed himself back in his pants and turned to face Eddie, arms crossed. He kept his eyes trained on Eddie’s face while he finished and zipped his jeans back up. He adjusted his chain and then fiddled around with his shirt a bit, tucking it in so his buckle would be on display.
“Diva,” Steve muttered.
“’Kay. Hold on. Let me grab the stuff from my van.” Eddie walked out of the bathroom without paying Steve another glance.
“Doesn’t even wash his hands? Nasty.”
-
When Steve approached the bar, he saw Tommy was gone, so he went out to the parking lot.
“You said fifty, freak,” Tommy spat, pointing at Eddie an inch from his face.
Eddie didn’t blink. “And now it’s one hundred.”
Steve frowned. “What are you even buying?”
“Molly and weed. A couple new samples too.”
“One hundred for that?” Steve asked. “That’s steep.”
“Exactly. Chrissy told me you were reasonable.”
Eddie laughed. “I gave her a deal because she’s not an asshole. Jock douchebags pay more.”
Steve knew that Eddie didn’t come up with that from nowhere. He had a look on his face similar to the one that most people wore after Tommy got on their case about something. Guy was seriously a dick.
“Tommy, what’d you say to him to make the price double?”
“Nothing that isn’t true,” he said, unbothered.
“Let’s just buy from someone else or get weed from Argyle. Who gives a shit?” Steve said, hoping the threat of a lost sale would soften Munson up.
It didn’t.
“It’ll still be fifty for wasting my time,” Eddie remarked. “Even if you don’t buy anything.”
“Listen—” Tommy began.
“Tommy, just chill.” Steve held a hand to his chest. His big mouth would only make things worse.
“Look,” he continued. “We’ll take whatever he said he wanted. For fifty. Just forget whatever bullshit he said. Okay?”
“Nah,” Eddie said. “One hundred.”
“Whatever.” Steve sighed deeply and pulled his wallet out. “Tommy, how much do you have?”
“Like seventy?”
“Fine. Here’s thirty.” Steve handed Eddie the cash. “Happy?”
“You know, there is another option.” Eddie tapped his fingers against his lips, rings glinting in the sun.
“What?” Tommy snapped.
“Get on your knees for me, and I’ll give you everything here.” He shook his black lunchbox a bit, and the pills inside rattled.
Steve immediately felt his ears burn at that. Was he fucking serious?
In the same instant, he knew he had to intervene because Tommy wasn’t going to just hear that and not react. He stepped between them before it could go anywhere.
“Are you serious, fucking fag? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Steve winced at the word, but Eddie just started laughing. “I’m messing with you. Lighten up, Tommy. If you were nicer maybe you wouldn’t have to pay douchebag fees.”
“Can you stop?” Steve said. “You make things so difficult, and for what?”
Eddie frowned at him, and then his eyes lit up. “Because it’s fun, big boy. What else is there to do in this town?”
Eddie dug around in his stupid lunchbox and pulled out Tommy’s shit, dangling a couple baggies from his long fingers.
Steve reached out hesitantly, unsure if Eddie would pull them back and decide to charge even more. But he didn’t. He let go as soon as Steve wrapped his fingers around them.
“A pleasure doing business with you.” Eddie stepped back and bowed, his hair falling into his face. When he stood upright, he brushed it back then headed into the building, practically skipping he was so light on his feet. Stupid rag flapping up and down in his pocket.
Tommy was still beet red in the face, his fingers twitching like he was just dying to run after Eddie and knock him around. “I can’t stand that guy.”
“Next time we’ll buy from someone else,” Steve suggested. “Like I told you in the first place.”
“I don’t know,” Tommy said. “Even doubled, his price is still the best. And his stuff is grade A too. I don’t know where he gets it. If I did, I’d go straight to the source instead of screwing around with the freak.”
Steve chewed on his lip. That was as nice of a compliment as he ever heard Tommy give. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that it meant he’d be seeing more of Eddie outside of school, since undoubtedly, Tommy would enlist him as a chauffeur next time they arranged a deal.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Steve said, turning to his car. “This place is a dump.”
The next time Steve found himself at the Hideout, it had nothing to do with drugs or Eddie Munson, but being in that place reminded him of their little bathroom run in two weeks prior. Then Eddie’s joke about sucking his dick. He still had no idea whether he’d been serious or not. And why he was such a bigmouth that he antagonized Tommy with it at all. He had to know that you couldn’t just say shit like that, and especially not to the wrong people. He sort of wondered what Eddie would’ve said back to him if he’d replied, “how about you get on your knees for me, and give us the drugs for free?” Would it have been enough to shock Eddie like he was so keen on doing to everyone else?
“Isn’t this place great?” Heidi said. “I love the music.”
Steve resisted looking at her like she was insane. Heidi didn’t look like the kind of girl who listened to metal. She didn’t wear black boots like Billy Hargrove or chains and cut-off vests like Eddie Munson. She wore like, sundresses and shit.
“I’m surprised you wanted to come here,” he admitted, looking around the room. For what or for whom? He didn’t know. He was just taking it all in; it was a completely different scene than he was used to. He felt out of place but not uncomfortable. Nobody was really looking at him despite the fact that he stuck out like a sore thumb in his letterman jacket.
“Chrissy told me it’s one of the only places around that doesn’t look too closely at IDs, if you know what I mean. We can totally drink.”
Steve frowned. None of their crowd hung out at the Hideout, and he didn’t think Chrissy drank at all. He hadn’t thought she did drugs either, but apparently she was Eddie Munson’s number one fan according to Tommy since she’d been the one to say he was reasonable and recommend his services. He had to be the connection.
“Is Chrissy, like, doing okay?” Steve asked.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, never mind.”
He kept scanning the room, and then his stomach did a little flip when he saw the same guy from before glaring at him. Had he really been that upset over losing his shitting privacy?
He decided to ignore him, gesturing to the bartender that they were ready to order. It seemed as if Chrissy’s assessment was accurate because he didn’t get ID'ed at all despite barely being able to grow more than a thin strip of a moustache.
He was three beers deep when he saw Eddie walk in and then disappear into an employees-only area. Was that even allowed? Why did he have to be so fucking mysterious all the time?
“Be right back,” Steve said.
“Where are you going?” Heidi asked.
“Bathroom.”
-
Steve forgot about the piece of shit door, so it slammed against the wall again when he entered the bathroom. “Jesus,” he muttered.
This time the bathroom actually was empty. For a second. Then the asshole who’d been glaring at him walked in right after him.
“What the—”
The guy wrapped his hand around his neck and held him up against the wall, pushing upward and making his heels leave the ground.
“You never saw a fucking thing,” he snarled.
“W-what are you t-talking about?” Steve sputtered. It was difficult to breathe let alone talk.
The man narrowed his eyes, and then some of his anger fizzled out, and he loosened his grip. Not completely, but enough for Steve to breathe again. “The other day…you didn’t see anything. Hear anything?”
“No,” Steve bit. “I came in here to take a piss, man. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Like some weird echo of the day in question, all of a sudden Eddie was there. He hadn’t even heard the door open.
A hand with black painted fingernails grasped the guy’s shoulder and pulled him back, knocking him off balance enough for Steve to get away from his chokehold.
“What the fuck are you doing to him, Neil?” Eddie asked.
Steve balled his fist at his side, ready to get things going now that his odds were better. Eddie was a bit smaller than the guy, but he seemed more threatening. His eyes were black, and so were all of his clothes, and the chain hanging from his hips looked like a potential weapon. And those rings…He wanted to see Eddie kick this guy’s ass.
Neil seemed to understand something about the situation, so he stayed silent apart from his heavy breathing.
“Get out of here, Harrington,” Eddie said, eyes flickering toward him.
“No, way. He’s a psycho. You can’t just—”
“Go,” Eddie insisted. “I’m handling it.”
Steve frowned, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Eddie alone to fight this Neil guy over whatever the fuck his problem was. Had he interrupted a bathroom stall drug deal, or something? Because there was no way he was angry over someone else being in a public bathroom at the same time as him.
“Seriously, dude.”
Steve finally nodded after a moment and left, eyes focused on Eddie the entire time he backed out of the bathroom.
He felt antsy when he returned to Heidi; he kept looking toward the bathrooms every few seconds, but either Eddie had sneaked right by him, used a different exit, or was still in there with Neil.
She didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong with him, accepting it when he assured her he was fine. His neck was fucking sore, but another beer helped with that.
He had to go check again.
“Sorry, be right back,” he muttered to Heidi, not even waiting for a response.
He entered the bathroom carefully this time, trying to be quiet. He was half expecting to see a fight going on, maybe Neil fleeing the room with a bloody face—Eddie’s rings imprinted on his skin. But there was nobody there. He looked in the first stall, and the second, and finally the third, furthest away from the door.
Not even a trace of a fight.
Steve frowned, chewing on his lip as he stood in the door. There was writing all over the walls, some in marker, some carved right into the wood. Right in the middle of it all there was a...hole? Steve had no words while he moved closer and peered through it, right to the middle stall. Eddie and that asshole…was that what he’d unknowingly interrupted?
Steve’s mind raced while he put the pieces together. So Eddie wasn’t joking about having his dick sucked by customers…or was he the one who sucked dick? Both? And for a hundred bucks? His mouth went dry. The Hideout had a glory hole?
A knock at the door pulled him out of his head.
“Steve?” Heidi asked. “Are you okay? Are you still even in here?”
“Yeah,” he called hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. Be right out.”
“Sorry,” he said again once he was out. “I don’t feel so good. I think we better call it.”
“Oh,” she said, “Um, sure. Are you gonna be all right?”
“Yeah for sure. I just, um, drank too much. You know?”
“Rain check for sure, though,” he offered half-heartedly.
She smiled at him, seemingly pleased that he wasn’t intentionally bailing—as far as she could tell.
He looked around the bar again before he left, trying to see if Eddie was around, and if he was all right, but he was gone.