party 4 u

by sunshineonclosedeyelids

Summary:

Let the record show that Steve never even wanted to throw a party. Especially not an 'End Of Summer Party, C’mon Dingus Didn’t This Used To Be Your Thing' party. But Robin’s been begging him for a few weeks now, and escaping her pleas are impossible since they are best friends. Oh well, one party won't kill him right?

Or

party 4 u steddie au!!!

Chapter 1: Like it’s summer

Let the record show that Steve never even wanted to throw a party. Especially not an End Of Summer Party, C’mon Dingus Didn’t This Used To Be Your Thing party. But Robin’s been begging him for a few weeks now, and escaping her pleas are impossible since they scored jobs at Family Video after Scoops was toast (and the entire mall pretty much, but Steve knows it does little good to dwell). 

“I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea here Robs,” Steve complained for what he was sure was the 100th time. “I’m not King Steve or whatever the fuck anymore and frankly, I’ve graduated, that’s a bad look-” 

Robin cuts in as she snatches the returns from Steve’s hands, “All I’m hearing is me me me, this doesn’t even need to be a rager or whatever you popular jerkwads used to do, all I need is a house this weekend to invite my band friends over to so I can shamelessly flirt with Vickie! That’s it! This doesn’t need to be a big thing, just a small get together where I can push my gay agenda, plain and simple.” She ends her little tirade with a smirk and a nod. 

Steve snorts, giving in pretty much immediately, “Plain and simple my ass, alright fine Rob but you have to clean up the mess in the morning because I sure as shit won’t be cleaning up your party.” 

Robin was already bouncing up and down with excitement, not even hearing Steve’s demands. Steve doesn’t mind though, this is the first time Robin’s been this excited about something since before the whole tortured by Russians thing. 

Just thinking about it makes Steve shiver and nervously check his surroundings. Him and Rob haven’t really talked about it much since it happened. 

Unless you count the two weeks straight they shared a bed because one of them would wake up screaming and the other would hold them through it. Or once the sleepovers ended how they got into the habit of falling asleep on the phone so if one of them started having a nightmare they could hear each other's voice. 

But no, they didn’t like, talk about it, talk about it. Steve thinks they didn’t need to talk about it to be there for each other through it though and Steve knows it only brought them closer. 

He'd never tell Robin this of course, but if this was how he could be there for her now, he’d gladly throw her ragers every weekend if it kept that dumb smile on her dumb face. 

Steve comes back down to Earth long enough to catch the end of Robin's scheming, “-so I'll need a ride and do you know anyone who could get us some good stuff?” 

Steve blinked a few times, trying to make a face that resembled someone who heard everything she said, “Sure sure I can give you a ride. Uhm but what kind of good stuff? Like beer? Because I can get us beer Robs.” 

Robin throws her head back and gives one quick laugh, “Stevo, Steve my boy, my sweet Steven, good stuff like weed .” 

Steve does his best to not get defensive that he didn't understand what she meant the first time, “okay good stuff could also be alcohol,” Steve grumbles while Robin continues to find his confusion hilarious. 

“Also, beer? What are we middle schoolers? No, we need liquor, vodka, the crème de la crème!” Robin flings her arms up and out to exaggerate her point. “I need the real deal if I’m gonna bear my soul to Vickie via drunken flirting, this is incredibly important!”

Steve can feel his hairs starting to grey individually. 

With a big dramatic roll of his eyes to show his discontent he concedes, “Okay okay no need to throw anymore jabs I get it, weed and vodka, I can handle the vodka but uhhh- I- I’ll need some time on the weed.” 

Steve didn’t want to give the long boring history of how he got his weed from Tommy H who got it from god knows where. And how he no longer speaks to Tommy H on account of him being a fuck rag and Steve tries to avoid fuck rags these days as he is a reformed fuck rag himself. 

Robin squints at the ceiling and taps her chin with her fingers, “Well who do we know that deals?” 

Steve, again, comes up empty handed, he never thought to ask Tommy H who he bought from because he never thought he’d have to get it himself. He retroactively wants to smack younger Steve upside the head for his lack of forethought. 

Steve must look as unhelpful as he feels, because Robin looks back at him for a few seconds before waving her hands in the air like she’s batting away the whole problem, 

“Don’t you worry dingus I got this, I’ll go to school tomorrow and with my super stealthy investigative skills, find someone that can score us some of that good reefer, some ganja, some mary jane if you will,” Robin giggles manically. 

Steve can’t help the chuckles that escape him as Robin hams it up, “Okay okay miss dope detective, just don’t get caught alright? I can’t have you getting suspended. Then I’d be stuck working with Keith and splitting your shifts.” He shakes his head, the prospect of that reality feels genuinely grueling even if he was just joking. 

Robin laughs at his worries, “Please like I, the master of keeping a low profile, would ever get caught.” 

Steve slides her another returns pile, “Well can the master of keeping a low profile reshelf the thrillers?” He says with a sugary sweet fake smile. 

Robin flips him the bird, matching his smile, as she snags the stack and Steve loses her between the aisles. 

________________

Steve winces as Robin slams the car door of the Beemer shut, a headache beginning to form. (thanks a lot multiple concussions), 

“So,” Steve huffs out as he peels out of the Hawkins High parking lot, “what did miss dope detective find out today?” 

Robin slowly turns to him with a smile creeping up her face, the kind of smile Steve knows means she has something demented and probably deranged to say. 

“I, the dopest detective, found us the perfect dealer!” She squealed and clapped her hands together, “Best part is, we already know him, we already love him, it’s Eddie Munson!” 

Steve was pulled up short, Munson? 

Eddie Munson had stumbled his way into accidentally helping them save the world from Evil Russians a few months ago, but after it was all said and done Steve had stopped seeing Eddie around. 

Steve didn’t dwell on it too much, (only late at night, when he couldn’t sleep, which was often, whatever though.) Eddie was more Robin’s friend than his, and Steve’s been hearing about this new D&D group thing Eddie and the kids were getting into, Dustin wouldn’t shut up about it. 

Long story short, Eddie was in the group’s sphere now, but not Steve’s sphere , and Steve didn’t know how to verbalize why that hurt him so much. Or, why that hurt him at all . 

You’d think after almost getting brutally murdered and having to fight an interdimensional monster and a possessed douchebag together that you would have something to talk about. But that wasn’t how it shook out, and Steve is doing his best to not think about it. 

Because why does he care so much? Eddie’s just some guy who helped out the third time Steve had to use his head as a battering ram as they saved the world again . Steve shouldn’t care, he barely remembers the guy anyway. He barely remembers his big stupid brown doe eyes or his manic laughter as the fireworks blew Starcourt up. 

‘His laugh? get a grip man.’ Steve thinks, clutching the steering wheel harder while he side-eyes Robin. 

“I didn’t know Munson was a dealer,” trying to keep his tone casual but instead sounding a bit strangled. Real smooth Harrington . 

“Well neither did I, but there wasn’t much time to ask if he dabbled in the distribution of illegal substances while you and I were high off our asses on Russian drugs and we were all trying not to get crushed by a giant ugly flesh monster.” Robin says simply as she fixes her bangs in the visor mirror. Like that sentence wasn’t insane. 

“Honestly it was pretty simple, I asked him during drama class if he knew anyone who deals and he said he did. So I invited him to the party and he said he’d bring the good stuff, easy peasy.” She finishes her sentence with a flourish of her hand smacking the visor back against the roof of the car. 

Steve’s eyes dart over to her a few times as he clears his throat, “Does he know it’s at my place?”

“Yes doofus, that’s like critical information for attending a party.” She says while rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Cool, cool okay cool, just didn’t know if he’d even want to come if it’s at my place, I don’t think the guy really likes me.” Steve says this very casually and definitely does not give away how secretly concerned he is that Eddie doesn't like him. 

Robin full-on laughs at that, “Steve come on, you guys battled ghouls together of course he likes you.” 

Steve shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the road, “I don’t know I mean he’s kept in touch with like, everyone but me, I don’t know if he still thinks I’m an asshole or something but all I’m saying is don’t be surprised if he doesn’t show.” 

Robin swats Steve's shoulder lightly, “oh hush, he does like you, and he is coming because I need the good stuff for my evil plan,” She dramatically throws her head back and cackles like a witch in a tween horror flick.  

Steve chuckles, “I thought the good stuff was for your gay agenda.” 

Robin’s eyes twinkle as she smirks, “Two things can be true at once Steven. Just you wait, this party is gonna be EPIC!” 

Steve cuts his eyes at her and shifts in his seat getting ready to object, “I-

Robin cuts in, “Epic in a small and intimate gathering of a few friends kinda way!” 

Steve nods, “Nice save Buckley,”

Chapter 2: Got the party bag with the purple pills

Summary:

Party 1 commences!

POV alternating btw muhahahah

“Okay, all we need to do now is wait for the pizza!” Robin claps her hands as she finishes her sentence, flopping down on the couch at the same time. 

Steve nods and takes in the room with his hands on his hips, they’d been cleaning and setting up for the better part of an hour and he was close to breaking a sweat. That soap scum did not want to budge. 

Steve can vaguely see how scrubbing the tub’s grout may have been overkill. But he had Eddie- guests, he had guests coming over. His mother didn’t raise a slob. 

The music was already playing low on the stereo, he’d turn it up when people started arriving. Some pop rock mix Robin brought over. 

“I’m gonna go get changed, if the pizza gets here the money’s on the table,” He was already halfway to the stairs when Robin called after him speaking in a rush he almost didn’t catch, 

“By the way I told people they could tell people but I also let them know it is a small gathering emphasis on small, so like, everything’s still totally cool, okayloveyougogetchanged !” 

Steve couldn’t see her but he knew Rob was hiding her face in the living room pillows. He puts his head in his hands and sighs a sigh so deep that he thinks he would put Hopper to shame. 

‘It was gonna be a fucking mess to clean up either way’, Steve thinks tiredly. 

He shakes his shoulders out, determined to try to get his resignation for this party off his mind. This was for Robin, this was supposed to be fun, he could be fun. He remembers how to be fun. Right? 

“God fucking help me,” He mumbles as he takes the stairs two at a time to go get changed. 

Once Steve has settled on a tasteful yet relaxed pastel blue polo and jeans he goes to work on his hair. He’d all but deflated his once beautiful creation with all that elbow grease getting ready for this shit show of a party. 

“Come on baby work with me,” verbally begging his hair to stay in place as he expertly sprayed a little Farah Fawcett here and there. Twenty not at all stressful minutes later he emerged from his bathroom a new man. 

And if he takes a few turns in his mirror to admire all his hard work no one has to know. 

But then Steve catches his eyes in the mirror and stills. 

He’s made a habit of avoiding his own reflection these days, especially after the last battle with the Russians and the fireworks and the facial lacerations . Steve knows he couldn’t have gotten out alive completely unscathed and he didn’t, he has the scars to prove it. 

Steve crowds the mirror, taking in his reflection, a scar running over the bridge of nose, one up by his hairline. Another through his right eyebrow that won’t let hair grow there anymore and the biggest one – the one that isn’t fully healed yet, still pink and angry and burns when he smiles too big – goes through the left corner of his lip down to his jawline, fucking russians. He thinks. 

Steve’s heard it all from Robin and the kids, ‘ladies love scars’, ‘scars are badass’ or whatever bullshit they say to help him not get too in his head about it.

But as he stares and stares at all the physical evidence of the shit he’s been through. He doesn’t feel badass, he doesn’t feel cool. He feels exposed, he feels raw, he feels like it’s a constant reminder of how out of control his life is - how he never really wins - how he isn’t sure if he’s meant to. 

‘Fuck all the way off, I can’t think about this right now ’, Steve laughs to himself, refusing to throw a pity party when he’s still alive and so is Robin and the kids and there’s a fucking party downstairs right now that he’s supposed to be ‘throwing’.  

Speaking of which, Steve, finally released from his internal monologue now takes in the unmistakable sounds of too many people in his house. 

Unintelligible yelling, roaring laughter and music cranked to the max, it brings him back to his glory days or whatever the fuck people who peaked in high school call it, his King Steve days.

Okay he knows how to do this, he can do this, especially if he’s doing it for Robin. 

Steve chuckles, steeling himself, “let’s fucking party.” 

——————————————

Eddie doesn’t know why he feels weird. But he does. 

“Buckley! Pass it back, manners man manners!” He shouts over the ABBA that was currently vibrating the kitchen walls. 

Fuckin’ ABBA

Robin snorts as she hands him the freshly lit joint the circle was sharing. 

Eddie feels weird because this is his first time inside Harrington’s house, and it’s because Harrington is throwing a party . 

He’s smoking a joint in Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington’s rich ass house on his rich ass kitchen counter, ashing into his rich ass sink— he may catch shit for that one actually — all while Steve is nowhere to be seen. 

When Robin invited him to the party he hadn’t really thought anything of it until she said it’d be at Harrington’s place. He knows Steve, got to know him pretty goddamn well while fighting monsters that looked like they came out of one of his stolen D&D manuals. 

He knows Steve’s basically Dustin’s full time guardian, and the other rugrats personal chauffeur. He knows Steve has some cosmic weird wonder-twins thing going on with Robin. He knows that Steve has fought interdimensional demons not just with him but two other times before that, he even knows the guy has nothing but good things to say about Nancy and Jonathan. 

In layman's terms, Steve has renounced his former douchebaggery, has turned over a new leaf, has changed . 

He knows that Steve is not King Steve anymore, so he’s fairly fucking confused on why all of a sudden he’s picked up his old hobby of throwing ragers full of people he doesn’t know. 

Eddie realizes he’s been holding the joint for way too long, where are his manners? He quickly passes it to the girl on the other side of him leaning against the counter he was perched atop of, Vicky, he thinks she said her name when he first walked in. 

Although who really knows because Eddie has already spoken to at least a dozen people looking to buy, he mentally curses himself for not bringing more, he would be able to help Wayne with this month's rent at this rate. 

He leans into Robin's ear so he doesn’t have to yell, “You should’ve told me how many people were coming. I would've brought more shit to sell,” 

Robin giggles in response, already gone off her measly two hits, “I didn’t know this many people would show!” As Gareth passes the joint back to Robin she takes a drag. “Besides, this is a good thing for you, get’s the word out, creates a higher demand, more mystery, more buyers will come back after hearing of the elusive and coveted Munson Marajuana !” 

Eddie laughed at her theatrics and took the joint from her outstretched hand, “You’re blasted,” 

Robin nodded sagely, staring directly into his eyes, “all thanks to you my dear friend.” 

As Eddie was exhaling his first hit off the already halfway gone joint someone new walks into the kitchen doorway, the man of the house, the king himself, 

Harrington .  

He’s wearing a tight polo paired with tighter pants, his hair looking freshly coiffed and styled with an easy smile on his face that oozed charisma. He looks fucking fantastic, he looks like he just walked off the set of a Levi’s commercial. Like, hello? *cough* *cough* slut . 

Eddie watches as he marches straight to the counter with all the booze, a man on a mission . He then proceeds to witness Steve down three shots in a row, barely wincing as he goes, then starts making another drink. 

Holy shit okay someone’s here to party, 

He realizes he’s been watching Steve from the moment he walked in and the joint has come all the way back around to him. He hurriedly takes it, and looks away just as Steve starts giggling to himself and looking around with soft eyes.

Eddie scoffs and looks at the ceiling, worried he’d dreamily sigh or some sick shit like that. 

Listen, he does not have a thing for Harrington, no that’s absurd. He just simply can’t deny the fact that he is devastatingly attracted to Harrington. 

Can you blame him though? Reformed apathetic jock turned bonafide PTO mom with a heart of gold and an ass that won’t quit? 

Oh god, he was way too high for this. Maybe he shouldn’t have smoked on the way here. 

This is exactly why he’s steered clear of Harrington since Starcourt, since his whole fucking life got turned upside down - poorly timed pun . 

Since he found out monsters are real, and superpowers exist, and no one is who he thought they were, not even himself. Since he realized that those kids and Rob - Nancy - Jonathan and yes – even Steve, were his party now. 

And he can let himself get carried away with fantasies all he wants, it won’t change the fact that Harrington is the straightest person on the planet. And he won’t jeopardize what he’s gained on the other side of all that shit they went through. 

So yeah he kind-of sort-of has been avoiding Steve at all costs, because he knows that if he gets to know Steve anymore he’ll be in uncharted waters, in dangerous territory, like getting his heart broken territory. 

It’s hard enough being queer in this town, why would he add insult to injury? Why would he take the chance? He wouldn’t! He isn’t! He won’t! 

But Eddie doesn’t want to be rude, and after all this is Steve, he’d never intentionally hurt Eddie, he’s pretty sure anyway. 

Plus he’s high, he can let himself indulge just a little, just tonight. I mean shit, when is he ever going to get the chance to go to an impromptu rager at Harrington’s ever again?

Notes:

eeeeek omg okay so exciting. This chapter alternated pov so we got to hear from both of our divas. Also yeah Eddie when will you EVER get this chance to party at Steve's again, hehehe.

Chapter 3: I was hopin' you would come through, it's true, it's true

Summary:

Party 1 ends!

Steve walks down the stairs and takes in the scene, his front door is wide open, come on guys seriously, and there are about thirty people in the entryway and hallway alone, jesus christ . 

He’s going to give Robin so much shit when he finds her. 

He passes through the crowded hallway mumbling half hearted ‘scuse me’s and hi how are you’s . A few people clapping him on the back and thanking him for the party, “King Steve’s back man!” 

He shakes his head and smiles, not giving enough of a shit to explain how untrue that is. 

He finally gets to the living room and is stopped in his tracks, Robin has outdone herself, the lights are off, the music is blaring, there’s a disco ball hanging from the ceiling fan and flashlights set up to reflect as it spins. 

Steve then looks around to see about fifty people in his living room and even more spilling out the patio door, mary mother of jesus robin, Steve knows he needs to get drunk immediately if not sooner if he’s going to be able to stand this many people for any length of time. 

He pushes his way into the kitchen and makes a bee-line for the counter filled with copious amounts of alcohol, quite honestly it just looks irresponsible. What if people are mixing liquors?   

No, no worrying tonight, Steve’s just gonna get drunk and try to enjoy himself, for one fucking night at least. 

Steve has pounded back three consecutive shots and is working on a mixed drink that will likely be a cup of vodka with a hint of sprite when he finally feels his limbs loosen a bit. 

He giggles to himself, okay I remember why I did this so much, he gives his poor excuse of a mixed drink a swirl and throws his head back to down that too, not thinking about it too much. 

He swallows and only winces a little, the familiar burn warming his insides. Once his eyes regain focus they land on a group of people smoking near his open kitchen window. He zeroes in on the person in the center of the chaos, in the middle of a long drag off what is most likely a joint, neck exposed and chest expanding to make room for the smoke under a faded and cut up Black Sabbath t-shirt, Eddie Munson. 

Steve really takes him in, he’s wearing black combat boots, they look dusty like they’re always on him and he doesn’t bother to upkeep the leather. He’s got on ripped jeans that hug his thighs, and a bike chain dangling from his worn belt. His faded t-shirt is obscured beneath his leather jacket, the black only accentuating his biceps under the dim lighting. 

His signature denim vest is missing from this ensemble, Steve’s breath catches slightly when he remembers that the vest is sitting on the back of his desk chair upstairs, still in Steve’s possession after Eddie lent it to him that night at Starcourt when Steve had bled through his Scoops uniform. 

Steve can recognize that from afar it may appear, from an outsider's point of view, that he is checking Eddie out. That is not the case, he is simply kinda drunk. Eddie is his friend! He just hasn’t seen him in a long time, who can blame a guy for checking in to make sure a buddy’s still holding up? 

He should probably stop staring now though, because Robin has noticed him. 

Oh Robin! Wait- Robin…

Steve abandons his empty cup on the counter, stomps across the kitchen and lands right in front of her, he opens his mouth to speak, morphing his face into the most disapproving motherly expression he can muster but Robin beats him to it. 

“I’m so sorry, okay! I had NO idea this many people would show Steve SWEAR, I swear, I will clean up the whole thing okay! I’ll shelve the returns for a month! I - I’ll even give you my ho-ho’s for a week!” 

Steve can see the genuine distress in her eyes, and the redness, oh she’s baked . 

Steve’s resolve crumbles, yes, this is an absolute shit show, and no, he doesn’t actually believe she’ll clean the whole thing up afterwards but she’s Robin. Besides, Steve doesn’t mind anyway, the alcohol moving through his veins is making it hard to remember why he was so peeved in the first place. 

“I will only accept this apology if you make it two weeks worth of ho-ho’s,” Steve uses his scolding the kids voice, trying to maintain at least a hint of a backbone. 

Robin brightens instantly, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Steve melts into it, letting her squeeze him, the pressure feels nice. 

Steve lightly laughs as he’s strangled and takes in the people surrounding Robin, there’s Gareth, Vickie - nice job Robs - and oh- Eddie. 

Up close he looks just like Steve remembered, same doe eyes, same unruly hair, the only difference is how dark the circles under his eyes are. Was he struggling to sleep? Did he have nightmares too? 

Steve tried to not think about it, taking in Eddie’s expression instead - which was shockingly pensive, like he was trying to solve a math equation that was written between Steve's eyes. 

“Munson! Hey man! I was hopin’ you would come through, how’ve ya’ been?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, trying to force the warmth to go both ways, why did he want it to go both ways? Fuck maybe he’s drunker than he thought- 

Eddie’s cloudy expression clears instantly, a coy smile taking over the bottom half of his face, “Aw shucks, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you missed me Harrington,” His smile only gets bigger as he takes another hit, looking directly into Steve’s eyes. 

This is the Eddie that Steve remembers, Steve’s stomach swops with delight, Eddie’s playful, Steve is drunk and more than happy to indulge him. So Steve turns it on, it’s easy really, like a switch flipping. Boom. Action. 

——————————————

Eddie is going to have a heart attack. Honest to God. Steve has just invaded Eddie’s space to take the joint right out of Eddie’s hands and smiles at him as he takes a hit. 

This fucker, Eddie thinks, the nerve, the audacity, 

Eddie is currently so focused on making sure his facial expressions stay in check he nearly misses Steve handing him the joint. He’s too busy trying to wrestle his eyebrows into something that falls between bored and indifferent. 

Eddie snatches the joint back as he catches sight of a confused Robin looking over Steve’s shoulder, he rolls his eyes and pretends to not have felt the brush of their fingers as he takes a lengthy hit of his own. Passing it to Gareth when he’s done. 

Steve is undeterred, smiling somehow brighter, “You got me, guilty as charged” he put both hands in the air like he was caught red handed. His smile turns cocky, he takes another step towards Eddie, undeniably in his space now, dropping his voice to just above a whisper, “but don’t let it go to your head, the weed is definitely a plus.” 

Eddie barks out a laugh, a fuzzy feeling spreading in his gut, was Harrington flirting with him? Like actually? 

No way, there’s no way. 

That wouldn’t make sense, Harrington’s a charmer that’s like his whole fuckin’ thing, and it just so happens to be directed at Eddie tonight. It doesn’t mean anything, it can’t, it’s Steve. And yeah, Eddie knows he’s pushing it, but it’s just too fun to feed into - this - whatever this is. 

Eddie tries to smother the fuzzies as he regains his composure, “You’re so full of shit Harrington, my company is infinitely more valuable than my stash, how dare you!” 

Steve full-on giggles, giggles , with a smile that would put cherubs to shame. Eddie thinks actual stars may live in Steve Harrington’s eyes. God, he needs a drink. 

“I’m sorry it’ll never happen again, scouts honor!” He swears, three fingers up and eyes glassy. 

Eddie rolls his eyes with a small smile, “You’re forgiven if you play some music that isn’t vomit inducing.” 

Steve tilts his head to the side, letting the lyrics of I Get Around by The Beach Boys settle between them for a few seconds just as Robin’s head peaks around his shoulder once again, 

“Hey! Do the musical stylings of Harrington and Buckley displease thee?” She offers the roach back to Eddie, he takes it and tosses it in the sink. 

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, “No disrespect my liege but ABBA and the fuckin’ Beach Boys aren’t exactly doing it for me,” He smirks and pulls another joint out of his jacket pocket, lighting it up and taking a long drag. 

He hands it to Vickie and looks back up at Steve who seems to have stopped breathing, staring at Eddie with a blank face. 

Robin breaks the silence with a snort, “Oh don’t act so high and mighty Edward, I’ve seen you sing along to Gimme Gimme!” 

Eddie isn’t even given a chance to defend his honor, Robin immediately elbows Steve out of the way to help Vickie ash the joint, she’s been trying with no success for the better part of a minute, get in Buckley, Eddie thinks, moving closer to Steve to give Robin space. 

Eddie and Robin have never outright said anything to one another, but Eddie thinks they both know about their respective ‘personal preferences’ so to speak, and he will definitely be giving her shit for that move later and that heinous claim about his alleged enjoyment of Gimme Gimme! 

Eddie turns back to Steve, very much in his space – all in the name of being a good wingman of course – meanwhile Steve looks like he still hasn’t moved a muscle, mouth slightly open now just staring with those big brown eyes. He smiles sweetly and pats Steve’s cheek, “Close your mouth Harrington, you’ll catch a fly.” 

Eddie walks away before he can see Steve’s reaction, not wanting to know what effect those words had, he’d pushed his luck enough tonight. 

Now, he needs a fucking drink. 

——————————————

Steve thinks Eddie’s weed is laced. 

Gotta be, that’s the only explanation, because he feels fucking blasted. Eddie left him stranded in the kitchen a little while ago, feet cemented to the linoleum after Eddie patted his cheek and walked off. 

Steve’s cheek is still burning, it has to be the weed . 

He also has this floaty fluttery feeling pressing on the inside of his ribs – also has to be the weed . 

He shakes his head a little, feeling spaced out, something about his conversation with Eddie pulled him up short, he hadn’t realized it until Eddie tried to joke about it – He did miss Eddie. 

Missed him in a way that his baked mind couldn't articulate at the moment. 

Steve looked around his kitchen, taking in the inappropriate amount of people in the room. He suddenly felt how sweltering the kitchen was, especially with all the smoke. He turned to Robin to tell her he’s gonna go get some air, but as his eyes land on the dingus in question a smile crawls up his face. 

Robin and Vickie are locked in what Steve can only describe as the world's most intense staring contest. They’re passing the joint back and forth, whispering so low Steve doubts they can even hear each other. 

Gay agenda, Steve thinks, and leaves to give Robin space. 

The air is easier to breathe in the living room and in the ten seconds it took Steve to make it out here someone has put a drink in his hand, perfect, he downs it in one go. Face puckering up as he swallows down what he thinks was straight rum, god he’s gonna need aspirin tomorrow. 

He leans against the walls and takes in the scene. 

There are about sixty people all in varying states of intoxication, dancing or talking or borderline fucking in his living room. At this point Steve has accepted that the clean up for this party will be atrocious. 

Another drink is shoved in his hand as “Rebel Yell” starts blasting, he downs that one too and lets the music wash over him. It’s loud and sweaty and he can’t really see straight, he feels like he’s back in high school, the realization makes his skin crawl and he’s ready to go up to his room to wait this out when he sees him, Eddie . 

He’s in the corner farthest from Steve, surrounded by the other Hellfire guys. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth as he dramatically sings along to the music, “ She cried more more more! More more more! ” 

Steve snorts to himself, “Dork,” he fights down a wave of warmth that threatens to wash his face red as he watches Eddie dance around in his ripped black jeans, his jacket has vanished and his cut up shirt is doing nothing to hide his exposed stomach. Not that Steve’s noticed of course, no, he’s just simply taking in his surroundings. 

He needs another drink. 

He grabs a full solo cup off the coffee table, too gone to think about how gross that is and chugs it, in the background he hears someone yelling out “ King Steve! ” 

Nope no, none of that. So he lets the song fill his head as he slides into the center of the room, falling in step with the people dancing to the music. Trying to think about nothing at all. 

——————————————

Eddie knows Steve’s gonna fall over before he does. Was he watching Steve dance? Fine yes, but it’s a good thing he was because Steve is fucking shit-faced. He makes the bold choice to perform some Grease Lightin’ like moves and Eddie knows he’s gonna lose his balance. Remembering his lack of equilibrium at Starcourt. 

He makes short work of crossing the living room to catch Steve by the waist as he tips over and almost bashes his head against the coffee table. 

“Okay big boy you’ve had enough concussions let’s not add another to the list,” Eddie slides his hand across the small of Steve’s back as he helps him upright. Trying not to think about how warm the skin is there. He takes his hands away, he’s four drinks deep himself and would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling it. 

Steve is giggling to himself and swaying where he stands not seeming to know he’s sentient, christ, “Okay bambi I think you may have had enough for tonight, do you wanna call it?” 

Steve wrinkles his nose and fights a smile, ‘Bambi?” 

Eddie tilts his head up to laugh, and to hide the creeping redness on his cheeks. 

“You got two left feet, like a baby deer - like Bambi,” 

Steve goes back to giggling, okay yeah he’s gone . Where is Robin? Shouldn’t she be taking care of her best friend? Eddie does not want to be the one to carry a drunk Steve Harrington to his bedroom, he doesn’t even know where his room is! Fuck his life. 

“Okay yeah let’s get you to bed, can you show me where your room is?” 

Steve’s cheeks go pink instantly, he ducks his head and sways a little more, ‘Yea- ‘s just upstairs,” 

Eddie has to look away, it’s too much, and he’s too drunk to trust his instincts. Instead he blindly grabs Steve’s hand and leads him through the sea of bodies with ease, everyone moving for Steve like he’s the second fucking coming. 

They make it to the stairs, Steve drops Eddie’s hand and he only has a second to miss the contact before Steve is wrapping himself around Eddie’s side like a sweaty koala bear, “The fuck- oh okay sure your highness I’ll just carry you to bed,” Eddie aims for irritated but he just sounds endeared. Fuck this guy . 

Steve giggles and presses his face into Eddie’s neck, oh- oh god . Eddie has seven mental breakdowns in the span of one second as he readjusts his grip on Steve and tries to block out all the places that their skin is touching. 

He miraculously gets them both up the stairs in one piece. At this point Eddie is feeling it, all the mixing of weed and alcohol catching up to him, he’s gonna drop soon. 

Eddie takes a deep breath in, they’re almost there, he’s almost free of this torment, “Okay now which door bambi?” 

Steve opens one eye to squint at their surroundings and gives a half hearted jab of his thumb to the bedroom door to the left. 

Eddie nods and grunts as he shoulders most of Steve’s weight as he shuffles them to the door. Once inside Eddie is a man on a mission, he hobbles Steve to the foot of his bed and plops him down. 

Steve immediately falls back and bounces on impact. “Thanks for helpin’ me up here man, I would've died tryin’,” he chuckles as he yawns. 

This causes Eddie to yawn too, the exhaustion hits him like a brick to the face. Fuck, he’d love to crawl into bed right now too. “No problem, let's just keep the dance moves to a minimum if we’re shit-faced okay?” 

Steve’s face scrunches into a tired smile as he sticks his hand in the air, thumbs up on display. 

Now that Steve is safely in bed Eddie can breathe easier, he looks around. Christ almighty, Steve’s room was a nightmare, but like an endlessly interesting nightmare. I mean the wallpaper is simply atrocious but who is Eddie to judge, not everyone can have good taste. 

The cork board above his desk filled with polaroids is sweet. There’s one of him and Robin at Scoops, and one of him and the kids all crowded around Dustin’s mom’s Christmas tree. Countless more litter the board and his desk. That fuzzy feeling’s coming back, Steve is such a softie, it’s hard to remember how Eddie used to see him. 

When he looks down at the desk he spots something familiar and pauses. Oh fuck that’s his vest. Sitting on the back of Steve’s chair, dried blood still all over it. In Eddie’s inebriated brain this only makes the fuzzy feelings worse. He was kinda worried Steve tossed it after Starcourt which Eddie would’ve understood because you know, trauma, but holy fuck he’s so happy he kept it. He honestly feels a bit lame about how happy it makes him. Like he’s glowing or floating or some other sappy shit like that. 

He’s not gonna broach that subject tonight, instead he tucks that information in the back of his mind for later, Harrington kept his vest . He fights a smile down as he turns back to Steve. 

Sighing and taking a final look around while he knows Steve is too sloshed to notice he goes back to the foot of the bed to bid Steve adieu. 

"Alright man, I’m out of here but I suggest water and aspirin tomorrow, yeah?” He taps Steve’s knees with his fingertips as he says it. Not used to giving Steve direction, usually Steve’s the one passing out the painkillers and the advice. 

Steve sits up immediately. Somewhat startling Eddie with how quick he moved, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands and holding it with both of his own. “Aye- wait you can’t drive, you’re jus’ as fucked up as me, c’mon stay - ’s safer.” 

This is seriously fucked up. Eddie is so blasted right now and Steve looks so so pretty like this. He’s holding onto Eddie’s hand and asking him to stay because he’s concerned for his goddamn safety . This has to be some form of torture because as touchy and caring and concered as Steve is, it doesn’t mean the same thing to him as it does to Eddie. 

He can suck it up, he can do this, he can be friends with Steve. And he is not just saying this because he’s really really drunk. He can do this! 

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes he smiles, ‘Okay fine if your royal highness insists I will find somewhere to crash here so I don’t die on the road,” Eddie has to make it dramatic of course. 

Steve is still holding his hand, Eddie can feel his skin burning, “Nah jus’ sleep here, w- with me, ‘s easier, my bed’s huge.” Steve says it like it’s the obvious solution, like that doesn’t make Eddie’s cheeks burn and stomach swoop. 

If Eddie was a better man he’d say no, he’d tell Harrington thanks but no thanks, find a couch in this godforsaken mansion to sleep on, but Eddie is not a better man. He is Steve’s friend, and this is totally in the realm of what friends do. 

“Alright alright but take me to dinner first geeze, I’m not some floozy Harrington” Eddie chuckles as he starts kicking his boots off. He begins to mentally prepare his body to sleep in jeans, he’s fallen asleep in worse and his is most definitely not sleeping in his boxers . 

He looks up to see Steve pink faced once more and smiling up at the ceiling, “Floozy? What are you 80?” 

Eddie swats at Steve’s legs, “I will not let my vocabulary be shamed by a man who nearly died trying to do a spin tonight, if anyone here is 80, it’s you.” 

Steve kicks at Eddie and rolls over, “Hey fuck you man ‘m young ‘n spry,” 

“Okay bambi, whatever you say,” Eddie whispers as he swats at the light switch till it plunges them into darkness.

Eddie stands at the foot of the bed for one second, this isn’t weird, no this is what friends do. Eddie then unceremoniously flops onto the bed face down, mirroring Steve. 

“G’night Eddie, -m glad you came,” Steve mumbles from the mattress. 

Eddie has to fight the smile that overtakes his face, he’s thanking every god he knows the name of for the darkness because he can feel how red his face is getting. 

He hears Steve’s breathing even out, he’s finally asleep, thank fuck . 

Eddie is so tired from whatever the shit that party was he doesn’t even have time to worry about nightmares before sleep drags him under. 

Notes:

I had so much fun writing this one. Steve 'turning on' his charm, girl bye we all know you just wanted to flirt with Eddie don't pmo.

Chapter 4: My heart rate rises higher, higher up

Steve’s head is pounding, oh my shit , he thinks as he gingerly rolls over and mentally prepares to be brave and crack his eyes open. 

He takes in his surroundings, he’s in his room alone, thank god . He may have gone a bit too hard last night, how did he even get to his room? Eddie must’ve- oh shit - Eddie! 

Steve whips his head around to the empty space beside him - ow too fast - he runs his hand over the spot Eddie had been, it’s not even warm anymore. 

The sun is getting to him now, flooding in from the cracks in his curtains like they’re trying to pry their way inside to get him. He rolls back over, now face down in the spot Eddie slept in. Steve is hungover, he can’t be held accountable for what happens next. 

He breathes in deep, it still smells like Eddie. It smells like the woods and weed and some third thing that’s just Eddie’s alone. Steve can see how this is getting weirder the longer he’s awake. 

He forces himself to sit up and start moving, refusing to acknowledge what just happened, he just misses Eddie being there safe and sound next to him, that’s all, trauma bond and all that. 

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and spots aspirin and a glass of water on his bedside table. 

Did Eddie leave this for him? 

The idea makes Steve smile, how thoughtful of the metalhead. Maybe he doesn’t hate Steve after all. Maybe Steve won him over. 

Steve takes the medicine and downs the water. He then starts contemplating the events that took place the night before. 

Sure maybe he overdid it but the party was for Robin anyway and catching up with Eddie was fantastic. Steve smiles to himself while replaying the night, he made Eddie laugh , man he really did miss having him around. 

His mind goes back to the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes, did he sleep okay last night? Steve knows that sleeping next to Robin always helped him, was Eddie like that too? Did Steve make him feel safe? 

Steve’s head hurts too much to really get into that, he instead steels himself to face the sure destruction that awaits downstairs. 

He gets up and treks to the door, he makes his way to the stairs and gets halfway down before he sees the carnage. 

What in the ever loving goddamn fuck-  

——————————————

Eddie’s freaking the fuck out - In a super chill way, he’s so chill right now - 

He’s been driving in circles since he fled Harrington’s house at the crack of dawn like a goddamn woman of the night. 

Were the water and pills too much? Will Steve know? Will he know how much Eddie liked every fucking second of last night? Will he know that that was the best sleep Eddie’s gotten in weeks?

Maybe the pills were too much he should’ve just done the water- 

‘fuck this’, Eddie thinks tiredly. 

He just won’t go to Steve’s house anymore and get shit faced, boom easy. He can be his friend, from afar . He can do that, he can get this under control, he can calm down. He’s basically well known for being a super chill and calm guy. He’s got this. 

He has mercy on his vans groaning shocks and makes the turn into the park to finally go home. His jacket pocket’s heavy with the previous nights bounty. He made enough to completely cover rent this month, with that in mind last night was definitely a success. Even the tortuous hours with Harrington can be looked back on fondly when he has a guaranteed roof over his head for another month. 

Eddie knows Wayne won’t say it, but they’re definitely struggling. Any extra cash Eddie can scrape together goes towards the bills, Wayne stopped fighting Eddie on helping out just a little while ago. However, he would definitely fight Eddie on his methods of scraping said cash together, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, probably . 

Eddie knows this makes Wayne feel guilty, like he’s failed him in some way. But Eddie never had anyone who gave enough of a shit about him to feel anything towards him, let alone guilt. No one except his Momma, but she died when Eddie was small. He sometimes still misses her in a big but abstract way. He never got the chance to really know her and that makes it sting more, because he isn’t even sure what he’s missing. To sum it up, Wayne is more than Eddie could’ve ever hoped for, he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his Uncle taking him in. 

That being said, Eddie hopes and fucking prays Wayne’s asleep as he pulls up in front of the trailer and cuts his engine, he doesn’t want Wayne knowing he was out all night. Why worry the old man? 

The God’s are on Eddie’s side because he slips into his bedroom undetected. He even managed to leave the rent money on their kitchen table with a little note scribbled on the back of a receipt he found in his jacket pocket. He drew a smiley face and everything. 

Flopping onto his bed he strips off his jacket and jeans and buries his face in his pillow. He reaches over and blindly hits play on his walkman, letting his soft rock tape crackle to life. It helps him sleep but he’d be damned to admit it to any breathing soul, it could tarnish his hard earned reputation as a satan worshipping metalhead.

As the sweet lyrics of If Anyone Falls settle over him, he’s out like a light in minutes. 

——————————————

Steve is profusely sweating. He’s hauling in the new movie boxes from their monthly delivery and the heat is doing him no favors. His hair is deflated and he is not happy about it. Muttering small obscenities the whole way. 

He can hear the faint sounds of Robin checking people out at the front desk as he works. 

Steve thinks about the last time he was sweating this much - two days ago to clean up the world's messiest party - and he laughs to himself. 

Robin had been a wreck when he finally made it downstairs to help, she was running from room to room kicking out the stragglers who thought it was a sleepover while simultaneously half way sweeping with a broom as she went. 

Overall he’d been through worse, but he won’t lie and say that’s something he’ll jump at the opportunity to do again. 

He finishes unloading the boxes and escapes back into the semi-air conditioned store. 

“God finally, the rush just ended. You’re lucky you missed it. Hopper was in here checking out Butch Cassidy for the four millionth time I swear.” Robin muses from the counter as she flips through a playboy magazine. 

Steve chuckles, “Good read?” 

Robin swats at his arms as he settles beside her, “Oh fuck off you look at these too - actually I need to tell you the brilliant idea I had during the harrowing midday rush,” She closes the magazine with a receipt stuck in the page she was on. 

“Hey now, I do not look at playboy on the clock, that is an off the clock activity only Buckley.” Steve says in a no nonsense tone. 

Robin laughs and wrinkles her nose, “Gross dude, anyway listen- so about the party last weekend, I know what happened last time was not what we planned. I wanna reiterate how sorry I am. Although some could say that was neither of our faults really when you think about it. And I think it would be a missed opportunity to not try again. Let’s say, a do-over?” 

Steve stares at her trying to figure out what the fuck she’s talking about, “A do-over?” 

Robin nods and smiles, “Exactly, you get it! A do-over party!” 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to laugh, in fact, he throws his head back and everything. Because there is no way in hell she is serious. Right? But as Steve looks back at Robin and sees that hopeful gleam in her eye he realizes she is deadly serious. 

Steve is aghast, “Robin it took us five hours, FIVE HOURS, to clean up that party. You wanna do that again?” 

Robin’s tone turns pleading, “I know Steve, I know but listen I got so much closer with Vickie at the party, she talked to me at lunch yesterday! She talked to me ! So I need to keep the momentum going, obviously I can’t openly flirt with her at school. A party is the perfect excuse, plus I swear on my fathers grave it will not be like last time.” Robin nods seriously and sticks her hand in the air like she’s being sworn in. 

Steve takes in everything she said, processing it, Robin gives him time. 

He understands where she’s coming from, it is a perfect excuse and in the interest of being a good wingman to his best friend the answer seems obvious. She swears it won’t be like last time - and he for sure believes her, just like he believed her last time - he knows it’ll probably be another shit show. But he doesn’t wanna say no and disappoint Rob. 

Plus maybe Eddie will come, The thought quietly surfaces in his mind. 

Steve doesn’t even have time to think before his mouth is opening and he’s agreeing to another party. Damn he gives in easy.  

Robin immediately starts bouncing up and down just like Dustin does when he’s excited, “Ohmygod ohmygod thank you, you won’t regret it, the things you’re doing for the local lesbian community do not go unnoticed by me,” She starts theatrically and vigorously shaking Steve’s hand as he busts out laughing. 

“Okay okay anything to help out local lesbians in need, but seriously man, it can’t be like last time. I just got over that hangover.” Steve aims for stern but he’s still laughing so there’s no real heat behind it. 

Robin smiles, she puts her hands up as her eyebrows join her hairline, “Hey no one told you to go balls to the walls. I saw you taking shots before you smoked Eddie’s weed, I heard he had to carry you upstairs mister party animal.” Robin’s tone is suggestive which is odd considering he and Eddie are barely friends. He wasn’t even sure Eddie liked him until last night. 

Steve blows a raspberry, “Hey that’s mister retired party animal to you, plus Eddie was helping me because I almost lost my life doing some captivating dance moves. I think I finally got him to like me though,” He can’t help the smile that takes over his face. 

Robin smiles and squints at him for a second before speaking, “I already told you dingus, he’s liked you the whole time. You don’t go through hell together and not hang out sometimes.” 

Steve waves his hand in her direction, “Hell shmell, I’m just glad he doesn’t hate me anymore.” 

He wants to talk about something else, he doesn’t know why but this conversation is making me sweaty. 

Robin just keeps smiling, “Well if we’re throwing another party we’re gonna need our trusty dealer. Do you wanna invite him this time? You can get his number off his account here.” 

Steve thinks she’s teasing him in some way but he can’t figure out how. He decides he doesn’t need to figure it out, he’ll ignore it actually. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” Steve’s sure that violates patron privacy rights somehow. 

Robin looks up his account on their behemoth of a check-out computer, writes his number on a post-it and slaps it down on the counter in front of Steve, “Make it a work call bucko, he’s two weeks late on returning Rocky Horror .” 

Steve nearly puts his hand on his chest, “Two weeks?! That’s like 15 bucks in late fees! Wait, isn't that the movie you’re always trying to get me to watch?” 

Robin smiles knowingly and nods, “It is a quintessential classic in many ways my friend, many people regard that movie as pivotal in their self discovery journey…” 

Steve has no idea what that means, he thought it was a horror musical? Self discovery? 

Robin must see how confused that made him, she presses on, “Listen, offer to waive his fees if he agrees to come or something I don’t know, convince him . Use that Harrington charm I’m always hearing about but never see!” 

“First of all, hurtful, yeah. Second of all, fine , but only because you’re making my charm sound way lamer than it is. I’m very charming!” Steve realizes he may sound a bit like a petulant child right now, but he feels sensitive about this for some reason. 

He snatches the post-it off the counter and stomps over to the work phone. 

The prospect of calling Eddie is making him nervous. But what does he have to be nervous about? Eddie is his friend! He can totally do this, absolutely no biggy. 

He stands motionless for a beat too long, “Anytime now prince charming,” he hears Robin tease. 

He waves her off and picks up the phone, dialing Eddie’s trailer. Ignoring how his heart rate rises with every ring. 

——————————————

Eddie’s making dinner for him and Wayne, one of his famous dishes, kraft mac n cheese. 

It’s Wednesday night, they always have dinner together on Wednesdays since it’s the only weeknight Wayne isn’t working late. 

Eddie always looks forward to this particular weeknight, he really enjoys watching whatever game Wayne puts on and drinking beer as they talk about their days. It’s simple and mundane and Eddie absolutely loves it.

He fills up two bowls, grabs two beers and closes the fridge with his foot. 

“Dinner is served my liege,” Eddie hands his uncle a bowl as he settles into the couch next to him. 

“Thanks boy,” Wayne ruffles his hair as he accepts the bowl. 

They dig in as some baseball game plays on low volume. 

“Wanted to say thank you for the rent money, that was real nice of ya. I picked up a few extra shifts so I’ve got next month covered for us, ‘m up for a promotion soon so ya won’t have to keep helpin’ out much longer,” Wayne said this into his bowl, he wasn’t big on eye contact, which Eddie could relate to. 

Eddie shrugged as he scooped up another bite, “I like helping out, it’s like I'm repaying you for all the years I've spent making you go gray,” he says with a slight smirk, trying to keep it humorous. 

He doesn’t say what he really thinks. How helping out with a few months rent feels like nothing in comparison to Wayne single handedly taking care of him from the moment he was dumped on his doorstep and never complaining. Eddie isn’t even his kid. 

“Oh quit that, ain’t nothin’ to repay you hear me? You’re my boy, I love takin’ care of ya and that ain’t never gonna change.” Wayne’s tone is stern and sweet at the same time, in that special Wayne way. 

Eddie has to stuff mac n cheese in his mouth so he doesn’t do something embarrassing like cry in front of his uncle over the fact that he just called Eddie ‘his boy’. Eddie never told Wayne outright but he supposed Wayne could feel it. 

Eddie’s guilt - his guilt for overtaking Wayne’s life - for becoming his responsibility even though he never asked for a kid. 

But hearing that Wayne sees him as his own and is happy to take care of him makes something warm and watery well up in his chest.  

Eddie still can’t muster up the courage to respond, too scared his voice will shake. Luckily Wayne has mercy on him as he pulls him into his side, “I love ya kid,” He gives Eddie a kiss on top of his head, like he used to do when Eddie was shorter than him. 

He leans his shoulder into Wayne, “Love you too old man, ya big softie,” Eddie chuckles as he grabs their now empty bowls to start washing up, blinking away the tears that have formed in his eyes.

Before he even makes it to the sink the phone starts ringing. 

Eddie picks it up after the second ring, eager for any excuse to get out of doing the dishes. 

“Munson residence,” Eddie says. 

“Hey man, it’s Steve!” 

Eddie’s heart starts beating a little faster. 

Steve ?

What the fuck?

How did Steve get his number? More importantly, why did Steve get his number? Eddie doesn’t have time to hide his surprise as his response tumbles out. 

“Harrington, how'd you get this number, you stalkin’ me or something?” 

Steve laughs high and bright, “Or something, I’m actually at work right now. I’m calling on official business Mr.Munson.”

Eddie pats himself on the back for getting Steve to laugh, holding the receiver a little tighter, “Oooh I see, well what’s this official business then?”

“Well it seems you are two weeks late on returning our beloved copy of Rocky Horror Picture Show and so I was calling to kindly ask you to return it at your earliest convenience.” Steve says in his customer service voice, all cool and calm. 

Oh shit fuck, first of all he is in fact late as hell on returning that movie. 

Second of all, does Steve know what that movie is about? Does Steve now know by extension what Eddie is about? Has this given him away? 

He doesn’t think Steve would be shitty if he found out Eddie was gay. Eddie’s pretty sure Steve knows about Robin but it’s different when it’s another guy. 

Eddie has plenty of personal experience with this, with getting the everloving shit beat out of him after coming out to the wrong friend at the wrong time. 

But again, this is Steve, sweet mother of six Steve. Still, Eddie is weary, he doesn’t know how to proceed. He also thinks he’s been quiet for too fucking long. 

But like the saint that Steve is, he breaks the silence for both of them, “Hey listen man two weeks isn’t even that bad one time I forgot to return Grease for three months! Keith made me pay my late fees in full and I work here! It was mutiny, I almost contacted HR.” 

This pulls Eddie right out of his mental spiral, he sputters a laugh into the phone. “You deserve to pay full price for that movie selection alone man. I normally wouldn’t side with Keith but come on,” 

Steve gasps on the other end of the line, “I never thought the day would come when Eddie Munson sides with Keith over me and makes fun of Grease at the same time. Let me go look outside real quick I think I may see a pig flying,” 

Eddie laughs harder, “Grease is so overrated dude, if you want a good musical there are a million more!”

Steve huffs into the phone and in the most exasperated tone says, “Oh what like Rocky Horror ?” 

Eddie pauses, okay he’ll bite, “Well have you seen it?” 

Steve hums, “Well no but Rob is always trying to get me to watch it. Says it’s big for ‘the culture’ whatever that means. I don’t know man, I just don’t think it’ll top Grease for me.” 

Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. So Steve has no idea. 

Eddie doesn’t think too much before replying with mischief lacing his words, “Wanna bet Harrington?” 

He has no clue how or why he said that. He is just digging a bigger hole for himself. 

But after the party Eddie has decided to actually try with Steve and not just ice him out because Eddie can’t control his hormonal feelings. That’s not Steve’s fault and Steve has been nothing but kind to Eddie. They can be friends , Steve deserves that much. 

“A bet?” Steve asks, it could just be the phone line warping his voice but he sounds a bit winded. 

Eddie can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, he wishes he could see it. God get it together man jesus.  

“Yeah I bet if you watch Rocky Horror you’ll like it more than Grease ,” Eddie replies with a grin so wide his face is hurting. 

Steve fucking giggles into the phone. Maybe Eddie isn’t strong enough for this actually, because it feels like someone just released mutant butterflies into his sternum that are hell bent on breaking out of his chest. 

“I would say the chances of that are so low I feel bad for accepting this bet, but you’re on Eddie.” Steve’s still smiling, Eddie can hear it. 

“Okay deal Harrington, if I win I don’t have to pay the late fees!” Eddie says, thinking that this is a very clever way to get out of his debt. 

Steve chuckles, “Okay and if I win you have to watch Grease with me.” 

Eddie wasn’t expecting that, watch Grease with Steve? Alone? Like a fuckin’ movie date? 

Eddie’s instincts kick in, he may currently have a small crush on Steve but what he doesn’t have is a death wish. 

 “But I’ve seen Grease man, Travolta doesn’t hold a candle to Curry.” Eddie dismisses the implied offer, his tone aloof. 

Steve sighs on the other end of the line, long and dramatic, it makes Eddie grin into the phone like a loser . 

There's rustling against the speaker like Steve’s shrugging as he says, “Well then I guess if I win you have to come to the next party Robin throws at my place instead.” 

“Another party? Robin said your place was trashed last time,” Eddie says, because really again? Eddie just got over that god awful hangover and he swore to himself he wouldn’t get drunk around Steve anymore. 

“Well yeah but Rob said it won’t be like last time, the party’s for her anyway and I’m nothing if not a perfect wingman.” Steve muses. 

Eddie laughs hard, sweet Steve has such a soft spot for Robin. Eddie bets he didn’t even take much convincing.  

“Won’t be like last time huh? Well okay then I’ll think about it. I sold a ton of shit last time so it may be a smart financial move for me actually.” 

Because Eddie won’t lie, he did make a fuck ton and he knows he can make more. 

He thinks back to the conversation he had with Wayne. He could keep helping with rent and hell he could even start saving. Doesn’t he wanna get out of this shit hole town eventually? 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to laugh, “See Mr.Munson I told you this was a business call. I wanted to propose an excellent opportunity for you and your lucrative dealings.” 

Eddie doesn’t let what is surely a giggle escape his throat, he swallows it down. Like a goddamn adult and smiles against the receiver. 

Steve keeps going, his tone turning soft “I also wanted to say thank you for the water and stuff that was- yeah I appreciated that man.”

Eddie is stunned, he didn’t think Steve would mention it let alone thank him for it. 

He hums, “Shit ‘s no problem y’know- thanks for letting me crash with you.” God he couldn't be more awkward if he tired. 

“Oh no sweat. But you mean it? You’ll come?” Steve asks. He sounds weirdly earnest, like he cares about what Eddie is going to say. 

Eddie chuckles, “Don’t worry Harrington, your party will have weed, I’ll be there. You can cross 'find dealer’ off the party planning list.” 

Steve responds, his voice steady, “Don’t get me wrong, the party needs weed, but I’m not inviting you just to deal Eddie. I’m inviting you because I want you there.” 

Because I want you there  

Because I want you there  

Because I want you there  

'This motherfucker,’ Eddie thinks. His stupid heart is hammering in his stupid chest. 

And he knows what Steve meant, he knows that the simple truth is that people invite their friends to parties. And that’s what Steve is doing. 

But why did Steve have to say it like that?  

“Well if it pleases the court or whatever, I guess I’ll be there,” Eddie mumbles in a bored tone. 

Steve giggles , Eddie thinks he needs to memorize the sound. God he needs to hang up.  

“Well consider the court pleased, Robin will give you the details. And don’t forget to bring back Rocky Horror so we can see who wins this bet,” A smile in Steve’s voice. 

“Yeah yeah alright mom , I’ll bring it.” Eddie teases. 

Steve huffs a laugh, “Alright bye Eddie.” 

“Bye Harrington.” 

Eddie hangs up the phone and laughs with a smile on his face.

Steve Harrington just invited him to another party. What are the fucking odds?

Notes:

this one made me giggle, they're already so obsessed

Chapter 5: Dancin' on to your favorite tunes

Summary:

party 2 ladies and germs...

Steve would like everyone to know that what he’s doing is extremely normal and friend-like behavior. 

He’s currently finding the perfect song to end his latest mixtape he’s creating for the party tomorrow. 

If he just so happens to be filling it with metal and rock because a certain metalhead complained about the party's music last time then it’s a happy coincidence. 

Okay fine, Steve is absolutely trying to make a mix that Eddie will like for the party tomorrow. 

But only because Eddie was so thoughtful and helpful with Steve at the party and then the morning after, and Steve didn’t forget that Eddie called his music selection ‘vomit-inducing’. So really he’s just trying to make a friend happy. Steve would say it’s been mostly worth it. 

Was it worth calling Dustin and then Mike to ask them what songs Eddie likes? No that was a fucking nightmare. 

Getting any helpful answers out of either of them was like pulling goddamn teeth and by the end Steve was so desperate for information and their discretion that he agreed to drive Dustin to the arcade for the next two weeks and Mike to the movies for three. 

All in all, Steve feels confident he’s made a mix that Eddie will like, while also including a song or two for him and Rob. The party is for Robin anyway. 

He pops out the finished tape and writes across the label in all caps, ‘NOT VOMIT INDUCING MIX ’ 

He laughs to himself, and he doesn’t think too much about the rush in his chest as he throws the tape in his bag, Eddie will like it, right? He sure as shit hopes so. 

For some reason a lot is riding on Steve getting Eddie to like him , to be his friend . He knows what Robin says but he still can’t shake the feeling that Eddie pulls back around Steve, like he feels like he can’t be 100% himself. Like Steve being there makes him uneasy. Steve feels a little sick at the thought, he just wants Eddie to feel safe , to be safe. 

After Starcourt Steve may have almost died but Eddie almost died too. He threw himself in front of Max when the Billy-Mind-Flayer-Demon-Combo came for her and he almost bled out in Dustin’s arms. 

It was brutal and it was fucking terrifying and as Steve held Eddie’s head in his lap the whole way to the hospital, blood soaking through everything and drying on Steve’s skin he thought he’d never be able to scrub all of Eddie’s blood off. He thought he’d never want to, because if Eddie died then that’s all he’d have, the dried fucking blood of his new friend he couldn’t save. 

They’ve never spoken about that, but reliving the memory has Steve breathing shallow. He was so relieved when the nurses said Eddie pulled through, he sobbed with relief next to his bed as his heart monitor beeped steadily. No one saw him break down except Robin, who was rubbing small circles into his back. 

Seeing someone go through something like that and not being able to do anything other than watch and fucking hope they pull through kinda does a number on a person. 

So yeah Steve desperately fucking wants when it comes to Eddie. He wants to see Eddie breathing in and out, he wants to see him laugh, and eat, and tease Dustin and talk shit with Robin. Steve wants Eddie to live a long happy safe life and selfishly he wants nothing more than to get to witness it. 

Steve’s dizzy with feeling, he needs to clear his head. He needs to calm down or he’ll scare Eddie away. 

Steve’s always had the problem of wanting too much from those he cares about, loving them too hard, suffocating them. When he cares for someone it consumes him, makes him wanna fucking crawl under their skin and live there. 

He thinks it probably stems from his shitty parents or whatever the fuck Robin always tries to explain to him when they’re high as fuck and spilling their deepest darkest fears to each other. 

Steve just figures if he can show the people he loves that he can make them happy and that he can be useful, then they won’t mind him being around. He can tamp down his intensity, he can quiet down his heart. He just desperately doesn’t wanna be alone in it. 

That’s a fucking lot, Steve knows, it wasn’t what Nancy wanted or needed and Steve didn’t know any other way to be back then. 

With the kids his role was easy to take on, one day Dustin needed a ride and the next Steve was a guardian to six rugrats and he would die for any of them in a second, even Mike . 

With Robin it went differently, once Tammy Thompson was mentioned Steve’s love shifted but didn’t lose one degree of intensity. If anything it was more intense, and Robin matched him tenfold. Robin is Steve’s soulmate, his twin flame . And he counts his lucky fucking stars every day that she feels the same. 

So now Steve moves more cautiously, Robin is an enigma, and Steve knows the truth. If he wants to keep love in his life he has to earn it, he has to prove he’s worth sticking around for. 

He can do that for Eddie, he wants Eddie’s friendship more than he’s wanted anything in a long fucking time. He knows he can get it, he just has to dial it back. 

Yeah, this special mixtape will for sure help with that.

——————————————

Eddie could barf. 

It’s Friday night and Robin/Steve’s party started 10 minutes ago. 

Eddie is stuck standing in front of his dirty bathroom mirror trying to wrangle his curls into something that resembles a hairstyle. 

That cursed fucking Rocky Horror tape sits untouched on top of the TV, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to return it. What if he went in when Steve was working alone , what then? He’d have to talk to Steve about the movie? No fuckin’ way. He’ll take the late fees, thank you very much . Bet be damned. 

“Jesus fuckin’-” Eddie swears profusely as he gives up on his hair and just makes sure his outfit is alright. 

He’s going for an I don’t give a shit look with his beat-to-hell band tee and ripped jeans but the way he’s fidgeting with his hanky and chains tells a whole different story. 

“Whatever man,” He huffs loudly and stalks back to his room, grabbing his biggest bag of bud and a smaller bag of already rolled joints. He tucks both safely into his jacket pocket. 

On the way out the door, he yells goodbye to Wayne and snatches the tape off the TV, maybe he’ll just leave it at Harrington’s and pretend it was an accident. Or hopefully, Steve will forget about the whole thing. 

He smokes down two joints on the way to the mansion, he’s still shaking so he lights up a third. Third time’s a charm and all that. 

His mind is buzzing with anxiety and anticipation. He cranks his music up as far as it will go hoping Judas Priest will melt his brain into mush. He lets the lyrics of Love Bites fill his mind. 

When he pulls up to Harrington’s house the party is in full swing. He’s a measly thirty minutes late but like Eddie anticipated it looks fucking packed , there’s about twenty people spilling out the front door into the lawn. Eddie doesn’t even wanna see what the inside looks like. 

“Not like the last time my ass Buckley,” he huffs to himself as he finishes his third joint. The weed has chilled him out significantly. 

‘Okay game plan, go in, sell my shit, ignore Harrington, leave early, fuckin’ easy ,’ 

Eddie is feeling pleased with his simple four-point plan. He will not drink and he most certainly will not drink anywhere near Steve fucking Harrington. 

He rolls a few more joints to replace the ones he smoked, grabs the rest of the shit, the vhs, his bong - who knows, could be fun- and heads into the belly of the beast quietly singing to himself. 

——————————————

Steve is having a great fucking time thank you very much. He doesn’t mind at all that even more people showed up to this party than the last one. He doesn’t mind that he lost Robin on the makeshift dance floor/living room three songs ago. And he super doesn’t fucking mind that Eddie Munson is nowhere to be seen. 

Listen, he’s not usually a rules guy but an arrival time is an arrival time for a reason. And in the spirit of a well-stocked party where the fuck is the weed? 

In the back of Steve’s slightly intoxicated mind, he just wants to see Eddie, to make sure he’s all good. Maybe inspect his eyes and see if they’re still bruised with lack of sleep. 

He hasn’t seen him since the last party and he hasn’t spoken to him since he called him from work around a week ago. 

He hasn’t brought the tape into the store even though Steve’s asked Robin every day this week when he was off if Eddie came in - ‘ No Dingus why do you keep asking?’ - he can’t help the creeping feeling that Eddie’s already tired of their friendship, had Steve overstepped by calling? 

Steve can see that he’s getting obsessive, he needs to calm down and he knows just how to do that. 

Two shots later - he’s pacing himself, he’s an adult thank you - he’s calmer and enjoying the music playing too loudly in the kitchen as he sips on a mixed drink some girl gave him. 

He leans against the kitchen counter and feels something odd in his back pocket, ‘ oh shit the mixtape! ’

Steve makes a beeline for the boombox to change the tapes out, maybe this will magically conjure up Eddie. Who knows, Steve figures if demodogs exist maybe music magic does too. 

He hits play on the new tape, and everyone’s groaning about the abrupt change is silenced as Rock You Like a Hurricane starts blasting through the house, the drunk crowd cheering and singing along to the opening guitar riffs. 

Steve downs the rest of his mixed drink and looks around. Desperate for something he refuses to acknowledge. 

Whatever , he needs to find Robin. 

He goes back to the kitchen to take another two shots - see it’s all about pacing, he’s such an adult - to aid him in his search. 

He’s feeling it now, the loud and brash music helping him along. As he steps back into the living room he can’t help the smile that overtakes his lips, he sweeps the room for his best buddy, his bro, his Robin . 

He finds her easily enough, she’s on the couch that’s currently pushed up against the far right wall and she's laughing hysterically at something Steve wishes he could have heard. 

She’s also hitting a joint, oh sick a joint. 

Wait, weed . 

Weed means Eddie . 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

Steve has never moved so fast in his life, he pushes several people out of the way, earning a handful of rude looks and a few fuck yous, all of it is white noise as he rushes to cross the room. 

In the back of Steve’s mind, he can see that this is a lot, but he’s too tipsy to see it right now . 

He breaks through the line of people and lands in front of the couch. On it sits Robin who’s currently pressed against Vickie - nice - and a few people Steve can’t name. 

No Eddie. 

Steve won’t admit how visceral the disappointment is. 

Robin lights up when she sees him, “Steve! Babe! Come here, come here!” 

She gestures wildly for him to come sit by her, he sits down beside her and takes the joint she offers him.

“Hey Vickie, ‘s good to see you,” Steve says with a hollow smile as he takes a hit off the joint. 

“Hey Steve, you all good?” Vickie responds, great so it’s noticeable how bummed he is that Eddie isn’t here. 

“Oh yeah ‘m great, just waiting for this,” He gestures to the joint as he puts it back to his lips for another hit, drawing this one out, wanting it to burn. 

The coughing fit that comes after hurts in a good way, makes Steve's eyes water. He likes it. 

Robin leans her head on his shoulder giggling softly, “You look like a kicked puppy, don’t worry babe he’s in the hallway selling.” 

Steve freezes, “Who is?” 

Play dumb , excellent line of defense against whatever the fuck Robin is trying to imply. 

Robin only giggles harder, “Who the fuck do you think dude?” 

Steve’s heart starts beating a bit faster, Eddie? She has to mean Eddie. 

He scoffs at her then uses every fiber of self-control he has not to bolt up from the couch immediately to go find him. 

He makes himself wait until the joint comes back around to him, he takes his hits and makes himself sit for one more minute. If he manages twenty more seconds that’s fine too. 

He then very nonchalantly, not at all inconspicuously, fucking legs it to the hallway to find Eddie. 

He weaves through the crowd of sweaty people into the opening of the hallway and his eyes immediately find their target. 

Eddie. Who’s leaning into some guy's ear while slyly taking a twenty out of his hand and sliding it into his back pocket. 

Steve is drunk and now a bit high, so excuse him for this next bit, but he fully leans against the wall and sighs with a dopey smile on his face. 

Eddie came!

He’s just all warm and fuzzy and intoxicated and so he’s allowed to coo over a dear friend showing up to a party! What, is that a crime? 

Steve rights himself, pushing off the wall. He shakes his hands out while staring at the floor, maybe the weed was a bad idea. 

When he looks up Eddie is watching him, Steve’s breath catches. 

Their eyes meet briefly then Eddie darts off to the kitchen. 

Hm weird, 

Steve, ever the concerned friend, follows him immediately. 

He finds Eddie pouring himself a mixed drink. Or what seems to be a mixed drink, can it be considered mixed if it’s straight vodka in a solo cup? 

“Hey, Eddie!” Steve says with a smile. Eddie came!  

Eddie’s shoulders hike up multiple inches, then he slowly turns around and stares at Steve for half a second before downing his entire cup. Upon swallowing he does what can only be described as a fully body shudder then squeezes his eyes shut tight. 

“So smooth,” Eddie says around a cough. 

Steve barks out a laugh, not expecting Eddie’s wit, he’s so witty and Steve is so crossed . 

Eddie opens his mouth to speak but cuts himself off as the next song starts to play. 

The lyrical styles of Dio begin to shake the walls around them. 

“Is this fuckin’ Straight Through The Heart ?” Eddie asks with confusion written all over his face. 

A smile crawls up Steve’s face, he wants to reach out and smooth the crinkle between Eddie’s eyebrows. 

Shit, he needs to chill.  

He focuses on answering Eddie instead. 

He nods, still smiling, “Yeah I made a mix, is it still vomit-inducing?” 

Eddie tilts his head to one side and smiles, his eyes light up with it. 

Steve feels a bit hot, is it hot in here? 

“You made a mix Harrington? A special party mix? And you put music I like on it?” Eddie teases. 

Steve scoffs but he can’t wrestle down the smile that seems fixed on his lips, “Whatever man, excuse me for not wanting you to vomit.” 

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, “No no it’s sick I love this song, couldn’t vomit if I tried.” 

Eddie turns around to pour himself another shot, drinks it, then turns back around. 

“Well, If you’ll excuse me, dear Stevie, I have illegal substances to sell,” and with that, Eddie disappears into the sea of bodies. 

Stevie . 

Steve leans against the counter with warm cheeks. Fighting down what is most likely a giggle. 

Eddie came!  

—————————————

Stevie? What the fuck? 

Where did that come from? 

What the fuck happened to the plan?  

Eddie is chastising himself as he sells to anyone who will make eye contact with him. 

Moving through the house fast and running out of joints even faster. 

Look Eddie doesn’t know what happened one minute he was just trying to make a rum and coke and the next Steve Harrington is telling him he made a special fucking party mix that he put Dio on because Eddie likes Dio. 

Fuck this guy

Why does Steve have to make it so hard? 

Eddie’s heart is racing, it has been since that song started playing. 

Steve is too sweet, too fucking perfect, Eddie doesn't know what to do with that. 

It’d be so much easier if Steve was actually a dick so that Eddie could snuff out this goddamn crush and let it go. 

But no, no, no, Steve has to be attentive and kind and fucking intentional . An actual good friend. 

“I mean what the fuck?” Eddie says loudly, mostly to himself, he catches a few weird looks. 

He needs to get higher, pronto. 

He needs to find his bong, which he left with Robin. 

He mumbles obscenities as he moves back to the living room. 

The song changes as he twists through the crowd, Is this fucking AC/DC? 

Eddie’s dying here. 

He moves through the smoke and the bodies of his peers, trying to not think too deeply about Steve’s song choices as the lyrics hit him in the dark. 

I wanna walk all over you 

Do anything you want me to baby 

I wanna walk all over you  

He finally makes it back to the couch when he sees his plan is far from foolproof.

Robin and Vickie are basically nose to nose having what looks like a non-verbal conversation? 

Gareth is making out with someone from band - get in Gareth - and of course, since Eddie can’t have anything nice Steve is there and Eddie’s bong is casually nestled in his lap as he packs a bowl,

Where the fuck did he get the bud?  

Eddie opens his mouth to give Steve a stern talking to about the gall one has to have to use another man's bong without permission when the song changes over and the opening notes start to settle over the room. 

Fuckin’ ABBA 

Steve’s head snaps up to make eye contact with Robin, who was already staring at him on the other side of the couch. 

“You didn’t!” Robin squeals as she releases Vickie to grab at Steve’s hands. 

Steve grabs back, the bong momentarily forgotten in his lap as it rolls sideways. 

“Oh, Rob you know I had to!” 

Steve sets the bong on the floor and shoots up to grab Robin, “Come on come on the dance floor awaits!’ He’s smiling from ear to fucking ear. 

Eddie feels cemented to the spot as he stares at Steve’s stupid pretty mouth. And that stupid hot scar that runs down his chin. 

Eddie remembers seeing that scar bleed, his head feels fuzzy- 

It’s not even fair that the guy has lips like that, why are they so pink?  

Steve finally looks up and sees him, smile somehow splitting his face wider.

Eddie feels caught, like Steve can read his thoughts and knows what he's thinking. 

But Steve only closes the small distance between them, smile never slipping, “Wanna dance?” 

Their faces are so close together that Eddie can feel Steve’s breath against his cheek. 

He can’t breathe. 

Eddie chokes out a laugh and gives a shaky smile, “No man I told you I don’t fuck with ABBA,” He puts another joint to his lips with shaky fingers, lighting it and hoping Steve can’t see the tremor. 

He’ll berate himself for screwing this up later. He is not sober enough to dance with Steve Harrington. 

He inhales so hard his vision doubles. 

Steve simply bumps their shoulders together, smiling turning into a smirk, “Fine, then watch and learn Munson,” 

Steve pulls Robin along with him as they move to the center of the room, giggling together as the opening lines of Lay All Your Love On Me ring through the air. 

All Eddie can do is watch what he would classify as a very obviously choreographed and practiced dance number that Steve and Robin break into for the entire fucking song . 

At one point Steve lifts Robin into the fucking air like this is Dirty Dancing or something.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ  

Steve never fails to surprise Eddie. He thinks he has a handle on all this attraction and then he breaks out into a fuckin’ planned dance number with his best friend? Giggling and singing along like they’re the only two in the room? What the fuck? 

Eddie is dizzy, this is too much. 

Eddie just watches on dazed and transfixed as Steve spins and swings his hips and shoulders. 

His eyes get stuck there, on Steve's belt loops and the way his polo shifts as he moves, showing skin. 

Then on his hands as they swing around and push through his sweat-soaked hair. 

Then on his biceps which glisten with sweat under the strobe lights, red, green, blue, red, green blue . 

Gareth hands Eddie a shot and he downs it, eyes never leaving Steve. 

“You’re fuckin’ droolin' man,” Gareth teased as he shoved Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Fuck off,” Eddie shoved him back, refusing the lose focus. Doesn't Gareth know he's busy eye fucking the hottest and dorkiest man here? 

Suddenly Steve’s eyes have found Eddie’s and then he’s right there in front of him. 

Sweaty, panting , grabbing at Eddie’s hand, “Come on it’s the last chorus,” 

Eddie could fucking explode - he’s frozen in place - his hand burns under Steve’s touch. 

Steve, still breathless, leans closer into Eddie’s space. 

His gaze is heavy and his pupils are blown, he looks gone , “C’mon dance with me.” 

It takes all of Eddie’s willpower to not lean into Steve’s space, to keep the scant inches between them.

He takes a deep breath in, ‘might as fuckin’ well’, and when Steve asks so sweet like that… 

“Since you asked so nice sweetheart, guess I can’t say no,” Eddie grins as he tightens his grip on Steve’s hand. 

If Steve wasn’t so close right now, Eddie would’ve thought what happened next was too good to be true. 

But since he is so close, Eddie does hear it, the way Steve’s breath hitches and stills and how his cheeks are now not just rosy but beat red. 

Steve looks so pretty like this, and Eddie made it happen? No fuckin’ way, he’s not that lucky. 

Steve recovers, shaking his head with a smile, “Come on Eds,” he pulls him into the center of the room, Robin and Vickie there dancing too. 

Eddie’s other hand gets taken captive by Robin as they pull him this way and that while the final lines blare over their heads. 

They spin him around and then let him go, over and over till he’s dizzy and can only hear their laughter fly by his ears. 

Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go sharing your devotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me

Eddie thanks the gods above the lights are low because being this close to a sweaty Steve has him giggling and blushing like a fucking schoolgirl. 

He feels like he’s floating, Steve’s hand still firmly in his. 

——————————————

Steve’s on cloud fucking nine. 

Sure he may be drunk as shit but he’s having a blast with his best buds!

He even got Eddie to dance with him! 

And in the back of his mind, as the song ends and everyone drops hands, Steve can still hear the echo of Eddie’s voice, sweetheart . 

Another song starts and they’re still in the middle of the room. Steve’s so warm, his chest heaving. 

Eddie starts headbanging as the intense lyrics scream, something about love and baby and forever all over a heavy metal bass line. But Steve can’t focus on that right now because he can’t stop staring at Eddie. 

He’s so free like this, hair flying, arms swinging, head thrown back to scream along.

He’s one with the music, it’s pouring out of him. 

Steve is in awe, all he can do is stare and sway as Eddie lets loose. 

Eddie is so - Eddie . 

Steve can’t think of any better way to describe it in his current state, it’s like he has electricity in his blood. He’s all gas no breaks, it kinda makes Steve wanna fucking scream. It makes Steve wanna follow him anywhere. 

But then the song’s ending and Robin’s dragging him away to the kitchen for more shots and Steve is too inebriated to be able to put up a fight. 

Two more shots down - pacing people, he’s got this - and he can’t really see straight but that’s all right. 

Party’s almost over anyway. 

He leans his head into Robin’s shoulder. Then just leans his whole body weight onto her, he just wants to be held right now. 

“God you get so cuddly when you’re wasted,” Robin laughs as she wraps her arms around him. It melts Steve’s insides, he loves her so fucking much . 

——————————————

Eddie’s overstayed his welcome, he can see and admit that he strayed pretty fuckin’ far from the plan. 

But he can still salvage this with a good ole Irish goodbye. 

He’s only had a few drinks and weed doesn’t count, he’s all good to drive home. 

He’s finishing up his last sale right by the front door. 

He pockets the cash and turns to leave, hoping Steve and Robin won’t be too mad at him for leaving without a goodbye. 

He’s twisting the front door’s handle when he feels a hand touch his waist, “Eddie you leavin’?” 

Fuck 

Eddie whips around, Steve , looking at him with glassy eyes and a tired smile. 

“Yeah man, didn’t drink too much ‘n I got an early morning,” He shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up due to the lie he just blatantly told and from the weight of Steve’s gaze as he assesses Eddie. 

Whatever Steve sees must satisfy him because he gives a nod then a grin, “Well call when you get home s’ I know you don’t die man.” 

Eddie huffs a laugh, “You won’t hear it over all this shit Stevie,” 

Steve lights up at the little nickname, eyes brightening as he fights a smile, looking down to try to cover it up. 

God, he’s so- 

Eddie wants to make Steve smile like that all the time. He likes being the cause of it. He wonders what else he could be the cause of for Steve. 

Yeah, he needs to go, now . 

Eddie’s about to bow out but then Steve’s snatching him up in a hug - a bone crushing hug - Eddie’s stunned. 

They haven’t been this close since Starcourt and the thought makes Eddie shake as he lets himself melt into Steve. 

He’s so warm , and he’s gripping Eddie so tight. 

Listen Eddie isn’t gonna be a dickhead and not return the hug, so he wraps his arms around Steve just as tight, giving back all that he’s getting, flushing under the pressure of him, of Steve . 

Steve moves his head so his lips are grazing Eddie’s ear as he says, “Call me when you’re safe, I’ll hear it I swear,” He pulls back and looks into Eddie’s eyes with so much sincerity that Eddie has to look away. 

Steve’s gaze is too intense, Eddie wants to run. 

Eddie feels like a deer in headlights, too bright, too exposed. 

“Okay,” Is all Eddie can give him. 

Then Steve’s letting him go and slipping something into his jacket pocket.

Eddie’s out the door, desperate to look at what Steve gave him. 

Once he slams the door of his van shut he’s snatching the paper from his pocket. 

Steve’s home number 

Fuckin’ figures

Eddie’s pulled up short, what is Steve Harrington's goddamn problem? Is he trying to kill Eddie? By being the sweetest and most attentive pain in the ass? 

Eddie’s ruined for this man. He’s just staring down at the scribbled number fucking beaming . 

He’s so fucked.

Notes:

i feel like this chapter's all over the place but that was what I was kinda aiming for??? our boys are partying hard and a lot of shits happening at once hahaha