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Eddie had his hands raised up, tying a knot in back of the bandana on his head, trying not to get any of his hair tangled in it. When it felt secure, he lowered his arms, looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting where the front of the cloth rested on his forehead. He combed through his hair, bringing it around to the front of his shoulders, and then he leaned in closer to the mirror, bringing his finger up to intentionally smudge the eyeliner he’d put on. He pulled back and smirked, giving a nod of approval to himself, and turned to leave the bathroom.
“Stevie!” he called from the hallway of Steve’s apartment, only having to pause for a beat before Steve appeared in the doorframe of his bedroom, wearing a pair of jeans, but a shirt only held in his hands, not actually on. Eddie smirked, crossing his arms and leaning his head against the wall. “Ooh, is that all you’re going to wear to the gig?”
Steve laughed. “Shut up. I can’t decide what to wear.”
“I told you, just wear something that you bought once but then never had the confidence or excuse to wear anywhere,” Eddie said. “It’s a punk bar, you can look however you like.”
“I guess. I don’t think even anything I’ve bought on a whim is exactly punk, though.”
Eddie shrugged. “Don’t think that matters. But you can borrow something of mine, if you’d like.”
Steve hummed, glancing down at the messy floor in the bedroom. “Yeah, enough of your stuff is here, I could.”
Eddie raised his brows. “Is that a hint of annoyance I hear? I can take some of my shit back to the trailer if it bothers you.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Steve said, plainly enough that Eddie couldn’t tell if he was concealing an actual annoyance or not. He inspected the shirt he was holding, until he turned and pointed with it at Eddie. “Except for when you throw your dirty laundry in with mine, and then I’m the only one to ever wash our clothes.”
Eddie clicked his tongue. “Just trying to conserve water.”
“Mmhmm,” Steve said, his lips pursed, but Eddie could tell he was fighting to suppress a smile. He threw the shirt he was holding onto the bed, stepping out in the hall. “Anyway, why’d you call me?”
“Oh, just wanted to know what you think,” Eddie said, standing up straight and gesturing to himself.
Steve smiled softly, walking right up to him, Eddie turning to lean his back against the wall. Steve’s warm expression stayed as he eyed Eddie up and down in his outfit of choice for tonight’s gig: ripped black jeans, a Metallica tee shirt, a blue denim jacket and the black bandana with skulls on it.
“I like the eyeliner,” Steve said.
Eddie smirked up at him. “Thought you might.”
“Yeah. The bandana reminds of…” his voice faded, and he looked down at the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes. “Well. You know.”
It took Eddie a second to remember. He’d been wearing a bandana when they were in the upside down, when he sacrificed himself to save Steve and the others. When he got trapped down there for awhile before Steve was able to come back and save him.
“Oh, yeah,” Eddie said. “So no to the bandana, then?”
Steve pouted, giving a small shake of his head. “I didn’t say that.” He reached up, gently brushing Eddie’s bangs that were still sticking out from the bandana. “It’s cute. Just reminded me, is all.”
Eddie nodded, smiling. “Okay.”
Steve smiled in return, his hand going to rest on Eddie’s cheek. He leaned down slowly, capturing Eddie’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Eddie’s hands went to Steve’s waist, pulling him in closer, pressed against his body.
Steve pulled away, but only just, their foreheads still touching. “I gotta pick out what to wear.”
“Mm, we could just not go,” Eddie said, snaking his arms around Steve’s neck.
“Yeah, right,” Steve laughed. “I’ve been wanting to see you perform for over a month now, I’m not gonna miss it.”
It was true. After all of the craziness of the upside down, Eddie took a small break to recover, and then the band had to spend some time practicing before they felt confident enough to get back to performing gigs. It was their first show in what felt like a lifetime.
“Plus,” Steve continued, “I don’t think the rest of Corroded Coffin likes me very much anyway, and you bailing on them to make out with me would not help my case.”
“They don’t dislike you, they just don’t know you,” Eddie argued, continuing as Steve pulled away and started back towards the bedroom, “They must like you to a degree, you’re way better to me than any of the jerks I used to make out with after gigs.”
“That bar is too low,” Steve called out.
“I know,” Eddie called back, saying in a quieter voice, “You’re leagues above it anyway.”
“What?”
“Noth—” Eddie started, eyes going wide as Steve came back in the doorframe. “—thing.”
“Ah, it’s stupid, isn’t it?” Steve said, having the audacity to blush, running his hand through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck, as he stood there in a crop top.
A white little thing, with a black ring around the collar and the bottoms of the short sleeves. It showed off his whole stomach, peeking up a tad higher with the way he had his arm raised.
“That wasn’t really the word that came to mind for me,” Eddie said, staring dumbly at his boyfriend.
Steve huffed, shrugging. “You said something I bought but never normally wear.”
“I think you should change that,” Eddie said, stepping down the hall to the doorframe. “I think you start wearing this like, all the time.”
Steve chuckled, staring down at the floor, adorably flustered. He was a really confident guy, Eddie was surprised that showing some stomach made him suddenly so shy.
“I dunno,” Steve said. “Maybe I should wear that denim vest with it? To help hide my scars.”
Ah, that.
Eddie stopped in front of him. “You don’t have to hide your scars, Stevie.”
That was a new thing for Steve, something he did feel self-conscious about sometimes. Eddie was never sure if it was just the bad memories that the scars were reminders of, or because it was an unwanted change to his body, something he had no control over, but the way they healed, they were clearly permanent. Eddie kept assuring him in the ways he could think too—that they looked badass, that he could get tattoos to hide them, and that would also look badass—but sometimes quieter reassurances seemed to work best.
Steve scrunched up his face. “Yeah, but like, probably people will notice, and someone will ask how I got them, and like, what do I say? I got attacked by an animal? ‘Oh, what animal?’ Fuck if I know.” He looked down, hands fiddling with the hem of the small shirt. “It just gets confusing.”
Eddie hummed, taking a step closer to his boyfriend, gently grabbing his hands. “Alternatively, if someone asks you that at this bar, you can just say ‘mind your own goddamn fucking business’, and they’ll respect you for it. Or it’ll start a fight. But based on the stories I’ve heard, that’d be nothing new for you,” Eddie added the last part teasingly.
Steve rolled his eyes, smirking. “Yeah, and if you listened to Henderson’s versions of those stories, you’d know that I also lost most of them. Should you really be encouraging your boyfriend to be getting into fights anyway?”
He grabbed Eddie’s waist, pulling him in close, and Eddie fell against him, chuckling as his hands landed on Steve’s chest, hiding his face in the crux of his neck for a moment.
“I guess not,” he conceded, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw before pulling away. “Want me to find the vest?”
“Yeah—it’d look good with this, right?”
“Obviously. You always look hot in that vest,” Eddie said, pushing himself off of Steve, not before letting his fingertips linger over his bare stomach. “We should hurry up though, we gotta be there early to set up.”
~
Once they got to the bar, Eddie let the rest of the band go ahead of him to the backstage, staying behind and turning to Steve. “You’re okay to just hang out on your own? We’ll be set up and start playing in like a half hour.”
“Sure,” Steve said mindlessly, glancing around the bar. He reached into the vest’s pocket, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter.
“Nervous?” Eddie asked, watching Steve flick the lighter until he got a flame, lighting the cigarette.
Steve inhaled the smoke, pulling the cigarette away as he exhaled, still looking around, studying the other patrons of the bar, dressed in leather and dark clothes, covered in tattoos and piercings. The vest helped, but Harrington’s preppy aesthetic still stood out in the place. “I’m alright.”
It wasn’t too busy yet, just a few people at the bar and groups sat at the booths and tables scattered about, but it was still early in the night. More people would be showing up after they started the show.
Eddie grinned, nudging his arm to get his attention back to him. “Hey, be sure to get a spot close to the stage. I wanna find you in the crowd.”
“Of course, I will. Not a chance I’m gonna miss seeing you perform from the best view,” Steve returned, his smile more confident, his eyes brighter, like he was genuinely excited at the idea of watching Eddie on stage.
It made him blush.
“Alright,” Eddie said. He couldn’t resist reaching out, grabbing Steve’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I’ll see you after.”
He turned away and started towards the back to join the band, but he glanced over his shoulder once, stealing a final look at Steve, tall and handsome, wearing that insane crop top and his vest. He couldn’t help giggling to himself, wondering for the thousandth time how he’d managed to land Steve Harrington as his boyfriend.
~
Performing again was a euphoric experience for Eddie. He’d missed it so much, shredding his guitar, scream-singing his heart out into the mic, the noise of the instruments thrumming through his whole body, and he was a part of it.
It was a pretty good crowd that night, too, getting hyped, people cheering and shouting them on. Eddie was able to find Steve pretty early on; he really had gotten a great spot. The whole night he had to resist singing directly and only to Steve. Sometimes they would lock eyes; Steve would smile and it would take everything in Eddie to remember the chords on his guitar, to remember the lyrics. He would close his eyes to focus and start to belt out the lyrics, opening them again in time to see Steve cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting out a cheer.
“Thank you, thank you,” Eddie murmured into the mic after their last song ended. His eyes fell on Steve, and he smirked as he said, “You’ve been a gorgeous crowd.”
Steve chuckled, raising his hands up as he clapped.
The band left the stage, and while the other guys started packing away their things, Eddie just slung his guitar around to his back, still hyped up on performance adrenaline and too eager to meet up with Steve again to bother putting it away.
He left backstage and came out to the main part of the bar, much more crowded now and the audience scattered about, making it hard to see where Steve had gone. He walked through the bar looking for him, an occasional patron clapping him on the back or shouting a compliment, to which he’d nod and murmur a quick thanks.
Finally, he spotted Steve, his back turned away so he didn’t notice Eddie, sat at a table. At first Eddie brightened with excitement, but almost immediately his heart dropped. Because someone else was sitting at the table with Steve. Some guy was talking to him.
Flirting with him.
Eddie could tell; he knew the kind of moves these guys made. He was leaning in towards Steve, using the loudness of the crowded bar as an excuse to virtually invade his personal space. In leaning forward, he’d put his hand on the back of Steve’s chair, and Eddie knew that move specifically. If confident enough, the guy’s hand eventually would shift from the chair to Steve’s back, maybe even his waist. In the crop top, maybe even touch his bare skin.
Eddie’s blood boiled at the thought.
He wished he could charge up to the guy, tell him to leave his boyfriend the fuck alone, and even get into a fight with him if necessary. But Eddie had never been in a fight in his life, and this guy was big. Muscular, tough looking. All that would cause is Eddie getting beat up.
No, it was a bad plan. He stood still for a moment, drawing in a breath and exhaling slowly to calm down. He didn’t need to fight the guy.
He trusted Steve. He knew Steve was just being polite or friendly, talking to someone while he waited for Eddie. Steve probably assumed that Eddie was busy helping the rest of the band put away their equipment, and what else was he supposed to do if someone approached him while he waited? No, Steve wasn’t to blame. And Eddie knew that meant that he could just go up to him, and Steve would be happy to see him. He had the upper hand against this guy, and he didn’t need to fight to prove that.
He took in another breath, psyching himself up to play up his charisma—another performance, in a way. Each stride became more confident as he approached the table.
“Stevie!” he shouted cheerfully, loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of the bar.
Steve immediately turned, and upon spotting Eddie, brightened. He stood up, grinning as he hurried to meet Eddie halfway.
“Eddie, holy shit!” he said as he wrapped his arms around him in a hug. “Your show was insane !”
“Oh? In a good way?” Eddie said, hugging onto Steve, his hands deliberately tucking under the vest, smoothing over Steve’s lower back. He glared daggers at the guy at the table, who was disdainfully watching the interaction. Eddie was half tempted to flip him off with Steve still hugging onto him, clueless to what was happening behind his back.
“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling away just enough to meet Eddie’s gaze, his arms lingering around his neck. He spoke quieter now that they were right next to each other, their faces just inches apart. “You were so cool.”
Eddie could tell Steve was having to restrain himself to not kiss him, and that only helped boost his confidence in front of this guy. Not to mention how endeared he was that Steve was so impressed by the show. He gave Steve’s side a small squeeze, pressing him closer. “Yeah? You had a fun time?”
“It was a blast,” Steve said.
Eddie smiled. “Awesome. Want to go backstage?” He did a small side step to look directly at the guy at the table. “Or was I interrupting something?”
The guy opened his mouth, “Yeah, actually—”
But Steve started talking at the same time. “Nah, we were just talking while I was waiting for you. Let’s go, I wanna see backstage.”
Steve took a step back to the table to grab his drink off of it, and Eddie stayed right with him, hand staying on his back the whole time.
Steve gave a short nod to the guy. “Nice talking to you.”
The guy started, “Yeah, maybe we can—”
But Steve had already turned away, walking in the direction he assumed Eddie came from. Eddie let him lead for a moment, giving him the chance to turn back and shoot daggers in the direction of the guy they were abandoning. This time he felt bold enough, sticking his tongue out and flipping the guy off before turning back towards Steve, wrapping his arm around his waist again and playfully pushing him to go faster.
“This way, baby,” Eddie said softly enough that only Steve could hear, leading him to the door that would take them backstage.
~
They got backstage in time to see Gareth and Jeff packing up the last of the equipment.
“Thanks for getting all of that, guys,” Eddie said.
“Sure. We’re gonna head out—are you good?”
“Yeah, Stevie will give me a ride,” Eddie said, looking over to his boyfriend.
Steve nodded, looking to the others. “You guys were awesome, by the way.”
Gareth glanced between them, giving a shrug. “Thanks, man.” He turned, starting towards the exit. “Eddie, don’t forget about practice on Tuesday night.”
“I’ll be there,” Eddie said, and once they were out of the room, he turned, smiling at Steve and shrugging. “So, this is it. Kinda just a grungy room to get ready in. Kind of underwhelming, I know.”
Steve chuckled, and Eddie stepped away over to the table where his guitar case was. He pulled his guitar over his head, putting it away.
“Nah, it’s about what I expected,” Steve said, lingering in the middle of the room, looking around.
Eddie closed the guitar case, turning to Steve and smirking. “Your expectations must have been real low, then.”
“Shut up,” Steve chuckled. “Tonight’s been awesome. You’re like,” he huffed, blushing. “You’re really hot when you perform. Which I did expect, by the way.”
Eddie smiled, blushing too, his habit of pulling at a piece of his hair returning, but just briefly before he stopped himself. He stepped closer to Steve, still pressed closer when he was right on him, backing him against the wall. “Well, I liked having you there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, looking Steve up and down, bringing his hands to Steve’s waist, his bare skin under the vest, thumbing at his hip bone. “You looked pretty hot in the crowd.”
Steve gave a breathy laugh, but Eddie reached up, kissing him before he could respond with a retort.
Steve’s arms wrapped around Eddie’s back, pulling him closer, and he kissed him back eagerly. Eddie let his hands travel as they made out, wandering up his sides, reaching the hem of the crop top, and one of his hands slipped underneath it, smoothing over Steve’s pec. Steve let out a soft gasp, dropping his head against the wall, and Eddie took the opportunity to start pressing kisses to his neck, wet and messy, until he picked a spot on Steve’s neck, sucking the skin between his teeth.
“Eddie,” Steve said, his voice a breathy whisper. His hand dug into Eddie’s hair, holding him there, encouraging him to keep sucking a spot into his neck, and that drove Eddie wild.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie murmured against his skin once he was satisfied, pulling away to see the bruise already forming at the spot. He smirked, imagining that dumb guy seeing them leave the bar together, the hickey clearly on display on Steve’s neck. He leaned back in to lap his tongue over it once more, causing Steve to shiver.
He kept kissing down Steve’s neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt to press kisses and nip bits at his collar bones, and then he couldn’t resist, dropping to his knees. He placed kisses from Steve’s ribs down to his stomach, extra tender ones to the scars on his sides, to his hip. He hooked his fingers onto the waistband of Steve’s jeans; he could tell Steve was hard.
“Could blow you right here,” Eddie mused, kissing just above the waistband.
“Wh-what?” Steve said, his breathing heavy.
“Or eat your ass,” Eddie continued.
“N-no.”
“Ah, prefer a blowjob?”
“Not here.”
Eddie froze. He dropped his hand from Steve’s jeans, and looked up at him. “What?”
“Not here,” Steve repeated softly.
His hand cupped Eddie’s cheek, prompting Eddie to stand back up, and he did. Steve met his gaze warmly, pushing Eddie’s hair away from his face, off his shoulder and resting his hand at his neck.
“Take me home,” Steve said.
Eddie’s lips parted, and he found for a moment that he had no idea what to say. He didn’t expect those three words, nor that they would have such an impact on him.
Maybe it was their simplicity that got to him. Steve must have known, must have realized what Eddie was doing. Putting him in the place of the jerks before him, trying to replace those memories with new ones, better ones. Eddie’s own personal ‘fuck you’ to every guy that used him and ditched him the moment they were done with him. But Steve wasn’t a replacement for those guys, he wasn’t just a ‘fuck you’, just a hotter guy to hook up with—he was so much more than that, and he deserved so much more than that. He must have thought Eddie deserved more than that, too.
Take me home . Not “my place” not “my apartment”, no “my” at all. Just home. Knowing that Eddie knew what that meant.
So much of Eddie’s stuff lived at Steve’s place these days, Eddie himself spent more nights there than the trailer. He practically lived in that apartment with Steve, even if neither of them ever said it out loud. But here Steve was, looking him in the eye, and calling it home, for both of them. He knew it had become Eddie’s home too, and that was where Steve wanted them to be right now. Not hooking up in a dingy back room of a bar, but home. In the mess of their room, in the comfort of their bed. Together.
Eddie shifted his weight on his feet, chewed on his lip for a moment, as Steve stared back patiently at him. He drew in a breath, mustering up the courage to say what he knew he wanted to.
“I love you, Stevie.”
Steve studied him for a moment, seeming to look over his whole face, to take in the whole moment, and he smiled gently, his hand shifting to hold Eddie’ nape. “I love you, too, Ed.”
Eddie smiled, relieved, and he kissed Steve briefly before wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him into a tight hug. Steve held him back, his hand threaded in his hair, holding the back of his head.
“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, his chin resting on Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
~
“You know that guy was hitting on you, right?” Eddie said later that night, naked under the sheets of their bed.
Steve handed off a glass of water he’d gone to fetch, crawling back into the bed next to him. “What guy?”
Eddie blinked. “The guy you were talking to at the bar?”
“Which one?” Steve said mindlessly, grabbing the glass he’d just handed off to steal a sip.
“Which—which one?!” Eddie said, eyes wide, and he gave an exasperated laugh. “How many guys did you talk to while we were there?”
Steve shrugged. “A few, I guess. Just while I was waiting for the show to start and for you to come get me at the end.”
Eddie scoffed, shaking his head before taking the glass of water back, taking a drink of it and then setting it on the nightstand. “You do realize that probably all of them were hitting on you, right?”
“Oh. Really?” Steve said, furrowing his brow in skepticism.
Eddie nodded, teasing, “Are you sure you want to be with me? I mean, you were by far the hottest guy there, and clearly you could get any guy you wanted.”
“Are you kidding?” Steve laughed. He leaned over to grab Eddie by the waist, wrestling to pull him on top of himself. “I know I can get any guy I want, because I managed to score the hottest commodity, lead singer of Corroded Coffin. Why on earth would I want anyone else?”
Eddie giggled, lying on top of Steve, pushing his hair behind his ears so it wouldn’t shroud Steve’s face. “Well. I think next time, we should have Robin or Nancy tag along, so guys will leave you alone.”
Steve hummed. “Guess it would be nice to have someone I know there. I bet Robin would think it was cool, too. Or she’ll just make fun of me the whole time for being your new biggest fan.”
Eddie grinned. “Sounds like a win either way to me.”
“I gotta watch out, this is gonna go straight to your ego,” Steve teased.
“That is correct,” Eddie said, and they both laughed, until Steve reached up, kissing him.
~
The next morning, when Eddie woke up before Steve, he started collecting all of the dirty clothes off of the floor and furniture and throwing them into a hamper. He opened the closet doors of the hallway that concealed the washer and dryer.
Steve wandered out to the hall as Eddie was dumping the clothes into the washing machine. “What’re you doing?”
Eddie glanced at him, then back to the task at hand. “A load of laundry for us.”
Hamper emptied, he looked up to the shelf, intimidated by the number of bottles there. Were they—all for laundry?
“Uhh…”
Steve sniffed a laugh, coming up behind him, one hand on his waist and the other reaching up past him to grab the giant red Tide bottle, handing it to Eddie. “Half a lid-full of this in there, then a small amount of the blue bottle in there,” he explained.
“Got it.”
Steve pressed a kiss to his nape before stepping away, towards the kitchen. “Has Wayne been doing your laundry all these years?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just pour in stuff at random and hope for the best usually but didn’t want to accidentally ruin your clothes. You’ll never know.”
Steve gave a small hum, smiling at his boyfriend. “Thanks, baby.”
Eddie blushed, closing the washer’s lid and pressing the start button. “Just happy to help.”