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Eddie Munson considered himself a simple man.
He liked good music, good weed, good DnD campaigns, and good times with his friends when he wasn't working at Thacher Tire as a mechanic. He'd graduated the year prior and left his beloved Hellfire Club in the capable hands of Dustin Henderson, a plucky sophomore whom Eddie didn't really mean to have a soft spot for…but did anyway. He was a good friend to be sure. But no one was a closer friend than you.
The two of you met in middle school when Eddie's hair was still buzzed and he'd first moved in with his uncle. You’d just moved into the trailer park too with your mom after your parents had just divorced. His uncle had urged him to talk to you, introduce himself, make a friend… but he just never really got the opportunity to.
The first day of school, mere weeks since you'd both started calling Forest Hills your home, you took it upon yourself to introduce yourself, flashing him a warm smile that put him at ease.
“I’m y/n.” you’d said in a cheerful voice, a voice tinged with a familiarity like you'd never met a stranger. “Y/n l/n. I saw you just moved in with your dad.” You nodded your head towards his trailer.
“Uncle.” Eddie responded automatically, looking uncomfortable as he stared at his shuffling feet. He was sensitive about his dad but of course you wouldn’t know that and of course he wouldn't begrudge you that.
“Uncle.” you echoed, correcting yourself and then promptly carrying on, doe-like eyes wide as you formulated a plan to share with him. “We should hang out. We could ride the bus together every day and maybe even sit together in classes or lunch.” You rolled your eyes and he liked the way you didn't make a big deal about misunderstanding his situation earlier. “I hate being the new kid. It’s really lonely.”
“Being the new kid sucks.” Eddie agreed, looking up at you again, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
You nodded enthusiastically, your ponytail bouncing with the force of it. “So consider this my official application to be your friend.” you announced, spreading your hands and wiggling your fingers as if you were presenting the idea like a prize on a game show. Your eyes crinkled in the corners as you smiled, looking confident that he’d say yes and
Eddie found himself chuckling at your forwardness. It wasn’t everyday people just said what they thought, just called out situations as they happened. He liked that. Guessing games weren’t really his style and he could tell with you, they weren't a common occurrence if they even happened at all. “Why not?” he’d said with a shrug, figuring it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, that he'd just agreed to a relaxed friendship.
Those two words, however, turned into sitting together on the bus, at lunch, and in any classes the two of you shared for the rest of the school year and beyond. Into innumerable hours of listening to music side by side, making a new mixed tape for each other every month. Into playing DnD together and painting miniatures that you saved up your birthday money for each year. Into horror movie marathons that usually ended in someone talking during the most important scenes (usually that someone was Eddie). Into spending lazy, rainy Sundays taking turns reading books to one another. Into watching music videos after that fateful moment August 1st, 1981 when you were both underclassmen watching MTV premiere with The Buggles' Video Killed The Radio Star (a touch of irony that didn’t miss Eddie’s watchful eye and one that he ranted about for the length of the song). Into going to the music store in town together to get the latest album to listen to as you laid across his bed. Into eventually growing up into the years of dating, parties and finding out where the two of you fit in at a school that looked down on the weird, nerdy trailer park kids.
The two of you were inseparable. The best of friends and nothing more. Simple. Easy. Straightforward.
That is… until you got your first boyfriend.
Andy Baker.
You started talking to him one day and was charmed by how charismatic he was. You'd come home that day and told Eddie alllll about the cute guy you chatted with in the hall as you were hanging upside down from his bed, flipping through a metal magazine. He shrugged it off at the time, thinking nothing of it, but then you started spending more time with this guy. And he felt his stomach twist into knots when you’d have plans with Andy instead of him. You dated Andy throughout sophomore year and Eddie was quite good at convincing himself that the jealousy rearing its ugly head every time you mentioned Andy or hung out with Andy instead of him was only because his best friend had less time for him now. He wasn’t used to it, that’s all. You’d been inseparable since seventh grade. Obviously one day, boyfriends and girlfriends would change up the routine a bit.
Except for Eddie who, despite a few hookups here and there in exchange for weed, didn’t have a girlfriend. No one really caught his interest and he could never figure out why.
And it wasn’t until you showed up on his porch the summer before junior year, tears streaming down your face as you defiantly marched your way to his room and sat on his bed, leaning against the wall as you drew your knees up to your chest, that he began to notice something. He hated seeing you cry, always had. He sat down beside you and wrapped an arm around you.
“What’s wrong, y/n?” he asked softly.
You turned your face up to look at him. Your eyes were red and puffy as though you’d been crying quite awhile, your lip quivering as your face just crumpled, an expression that shot through his heart like an arrow. “Andy…” you choked out, then took a deep breath before saying flatly, “Andy cheated on me.” You rolled your eyes to the ceiling and chuckled mirthlessly.
Rage coursed through Eddie in a way he’d never really known before. He reminded himself that you needed him to be comforting, not punch a hole in the wall. But the idea that anyone had dared hurt you, let alone betrayed you in such a way, made him see red, made his muscles tense. “He did what?” he asked through gritted teeth.
You angrily swiped at your wet cheeks and sighed. “I should have known.” you mumbled dejectedly. “He’s been growing a bit more distant. Hasn’t really wanted to ….be with me.” You winced at the euphemism, not really sure why you’d just admitted to your best friend that your boyfriend had all but stopped sleeping with you.
In retrospect, Eddie had noticed you were around more but he had just been so happy you were over all the time again that he never thought to question it. Chalked it up to your relationship with Andy getting to that comfortable stage where you could focus on other things, where the obsessive honeymoon, moony eyed, can't keep your hands off each other phase had faded a bit. Now he felt his gut twist a bit at not noticing the signs, not warning you, not walking up to Andy and punching his lights out...
“Who with?” he found himself asking despite really, really not wanting to know, not wanting to picture your boyfriend touching all over someone else (although he really didn’t want to picture him touching all over you but that was a different story).
The question made your face crumple all as you dissolved into tears once more. “Patti Green!” you wailed, face in your hands as you softly sobbed.
Eddie made a face. “Patti Green? Oh, y/n.” he said, partly sympathetic towards you and partly disgusted with the whole idea. Patti was notoriously the girl that every guy cheated with, especially when they were bored. But how could Andy get bored with you? He had no idea how that was possible. You’d been his best friend for years, most of that being seeing each other every day, and he never got tired of your company. In fact, he even still missed you when you went home.
When you sniffled, he pulled you close and you buried your head in the crook of his neck and quietly cried. “It’s okay,” he tried to soothe. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” It felt pathetic even to him, the promises that kept flowing from his mouth. He meant it. He was here. But it seemed like putting a bandaid on a gaping head wound. It was a nice gesture, but it didn't really get down to the heart of the issue. Being cheated on was a whole other level of betrayal he didn’t think his friendship would be able to smooth over.
You let out a soft noise that kind of sounded like a weepy laugh. “I know.” you said warmly, your breath tickling his neck. “You're always here for me.”
“Always will be.” Eddie said simply and when you pulled back to smile at him, that bright smile that broke through the tears like sunshine through storm clouds, he felt his heart skip a beat. He felt that now-familiar twist in his gut, the one he thought was jealousy over losing his best friend’s time and attention. He swallowed, lost in your smile, brushing the remaining tears on your cheeks away with the pad of his thumb. You had leaned into his touch, seeking comfort, seeking stability. Seeking him.
Eddie’s stomach lurched as he watched you press your cheek into his hand, teardrop studded eyelashes fluttering closed as you tried to calm your breathing. He just held your face in his hand, gentle and tender as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
He now knew the truth.
He’d never just been jealous of losing your attention.
He’d been jealous of losing you to another guy.
Eddie was in love with you, with his best friend.
....So much for simple.
***
“My god, it’s so hot!” you complain, fanning yourself as you lounge back in your inflatable pool, the sun beating down on your bare skin. The summer heat has been suffocating and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be relenting any time soon. It’s early August and your community college classes will be starting in a few weeks. And despite wanting to be done with this ridiculous heat wave, you secretly wish the summer would never end. You’ve been spending the season working at the music store down the road from Thacher Tire, so you and Eddie were able to share your lunch breaks together. Those thirty minutes of laughter, the occasional chucked almond or M&M to dodge, and the great talks with him every day keep you going.
Eddie’s feet are hanging over the edge next to you, his lanky frame unable to be fully contained in the small pool you’d saved your money for. The two of you are sitting on opposite sides with your legs outstretched next to each other. He tries to not notice how you’re sweeping your hair up into a ponytail to get it off of your sweaty neck. Or that your bikini is high cut, showing off the length of your legs as your feet nudge into his side when you move. Or that your top is showing a decent amount of cleavage, something you're not exactly lacking. You’re oblivious to the fact that this is torturing him, so comfortable with your friend that you barely even notice you’re wearing a bikini in front of him, never felt a need to be self conscious around Eddie. He would agree, but for different reasons.
You trace a finger along the new tattoo on his calf: the compass rose from the map at the beginning of The Hobbit. He’d gotten it a few weeks ago because…well, it reminded him of you, of reading the books on cold winter days, cuddled under a blanket together as you sipped hot chocolate.
You know.
Like friends do.
Eddie’s practically melting under your touch, noticing the way your tongue pokes out from between your soft lips as you study his new ink. Your fingertips gently brush over his skin, featherlight, your sparkling eyes studying the design intensely. Meanwhile, his palms are starting to sweat and he's pretty certain it has nothing to do with the heat.
Damn it. Calm down, Munson. he scolds himself as his heart begins to thud so loud, he fears you'll be able to hear it.
“I like this one.” You look back up at him and smile widely, competing with the brightness of the sun (at least…in his mind). “I should get a matching one.” you joke. You lift up your leg and twist it to show him your calf, pointing to the exact spot you’d get it, a mirror of his.
Eddie swallows, his imagination running wild at the thought of a mark that currently resided on his own body branding you too, connecting the two of you in an oddly intimate way (although why it was so intimate, he couldn't be sure).
Figuring out he was madly in love with you junior year, now four years ago, has made it nearly impossible for him to be around you and not want to touch you, kiss you, profess his undying love for you or some shit like that. You’d dated some guys here and there since Andy (whom he had wound up punching the next time he saw him). but your first relationship ending in your boyfriend sleeping with another girl had made it hard for you to trust. Pretty understandable. You tended to back out of relationships once they got too serious, just to protect yourself. Eddie had noticed and refused to blow up your friendship so he resigned himself to silently, torturously pining over you like the lovesick masochist he was.
“You hate needles.” he points out, jerking his head toward you in a nod.
You wave your hand dismissively, already forming a plan to cope with your fear. “Pffft. I’ll just steal and smoke your entire stash before I go.”
His jaw drops in fake horror. “You’ll do no such thing. That’s my livelihood, ma’am.”
You laugh, a melodious, bell-like sound that tingles down his spine. “I would never take the entire thing.” you say, giving him a smirk. With a sigh, you push yourself up to stand and Eddie drops his eyes towards the pool, thinking of working on cars, cleaning his room, roadkill, even… literally anything but you in your annoyingly small bikini. Like you have no idea how mind numbingly attractive you are, like you have no idea how hard his heart is thudding against his chest right now like it’s begging to escape the confines of his ribs. He stands too, water falling from his swimming trunks and you toss him the towel you’d hung over your porch railing.
The two of you towel off your damp skin then sit in the sun until your bathing suits are completely dry, talking about all of the tattoos you’d get if you were brave enough. Eddie forces himself to pay attention to your words as you point a red painted fingernail to every spot you’d get one if you ''only had the balls".
Finally, when you are both dry enough, you wave him inside, a slight respite from the oppressive sun.
“Want a drink?” you ask as he grabs his shirt off the couch and yanks it over his head despite feeling like he could melt into an Eddie shaped puddle from the sweltering heat.
“Sure.” he responds, flopping onto the couch as you pop open the fridge and stand in front of it for a moment too long, eyes blissfully closed. “Your mom’s gonna kick your ass if she catches you doing that again.” You laugh, grabbing two cans of Coke and closing the door with the full swell of your hip. You give him a playful wink and shush him. The wink nearly takes him out but he's determined to keep a blank face as you hand him a can. “Thanks.” he mumbles as he takes it. It cracks open with a hiss and he begins to chug it, desperate to cool himself down.
“Sure. I’m going to change, okay?” You smile and lean over to turn on the TV, which really isn’t fair considering you’re still wearing your swimsuit. Suddenly, the ceiling becomes very interesting to Eddie as he tries desperately to ignore the curve of your hips, the length of your legs, the small bit of cheek peeking out from under your bottoms…
The channel had been left on MTV and the music video for Africa begins as you meander down the hall to your room, leaving Eddie to down the rest of his Coke as he tries to clear his head. What he really needed was a cold shower. He kept his towel in his lap, trying desperately to distract himself.
Calm it down, Munson. You can do this. You’ve done it every day for years. You’re good. His pep talk was working.
Until you came back out in a pair of black dolphin shorts and an old Joan Jett shirt you’d cut the sleeves off of, dipping down a bit low under the arm, showing off your white sports bra when you move your arms. Your hair was back in a ponytail, strands framing your pink tinged face.
Eddie swallows, trying to focus on what you’re saying but it can be a bit hard when…well, he is.
“Don’t judge me but I really like this song. Have you heard it yet?” you ask as you go to turn up the TV then flop on the opposite end of the couch from him. He frowns a bit, wondering what brought on the sudden distance when usually the two of you usually snuggle up. As friends.
He blinks, snapping back to reality as a poppy backbeat begins, the camera panning in on a redhead in a denim jacket, her hands in her hair.
“Lemme hear your heart beat. Lemme feel your heart beat. Lemme touch your heart beat. Cuz I can change your heart beat.” the artist sings…or rather speaks in a slightly sing-songy way, her voice dipping low on the last sentence. Suddenly the music starts to pick up as the singer awkwardly wiggles her fingers, part-wave, part-jazz hands.
“Holy shit, y/n, what the hell is this?” Eddie asks, trying his hardest to not bust out into a laugh because your face is quite serious, for reasons unknown to him.
“I Think We’re Alone Now.” you say almost defensively, then return your attention to the music video. “Children, behaaaave!” you sing along.
Eddie watches the video, his face becoming increasingly more scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and distaste as the scenes shift and in the first few seconds she’s running her hands through her hair and flipping it or just...holding her hand in her locks. “Why the fuck is she touching her hair so much?” he mumbles.
“Shh!” you admonish him, listening intently. Sure, you love metal and rock like him, but pop is a guilty pleasure that you often indulge in.
Tiffany, apparently, is now hanging out of the car window as it drives down a dusty road. “Look at the way…” she sings and then the rest is an unintelligible note that sounds very akin to a cat yowling, in Eddie’s opinion. “Jesus Christ, what’s happening? Y/k, please tell me you’re joking.” he pleads. “Please tell me we’re not going to watch this whole thing.” You don’t answer so he just gapes at the TV as the scenes whiz by. “Why is her concert in a mall? What is she doing with her hands now?”
“Shhhh!” you say again, more firmly this time, rolling your eyes.
Eddie stares at the tv in horror as the girl begins to…well, attempt to breakdance on the beach as synth music plays. “What’s happening?” he asks in panic, eyes wide. It was like trying to peel your eyes off of a car wreck. You don’t really want to watch, but it’s impossible to look away.
“She’s dancing.” you respond curtly but you do feel a smile trying to peak its way through the facade.
He gesticulates wildly towards the tv. “Y/n, this isn’t dancing. This is a full body dry heave! Look! Now she’s… -well, for the sake of the conversation, we’ll call it dancing- with an old man. This is elder abuse at this point.” That gets you. You wind up giggling, trying to fight your face back into an annoyed expression but it was too late. A triumphant look crosses Eddie’s face as he realizes he did make you laugh. And he doesn’t plan on ending it there. “Seriously, I think the director of this video was like ‘Okay, Tiffany, can you dance?’ and she said, ‘Not exactly.’ and he responded with ‘Don’t sweat it! Just touch your hair a lot and do weird shit with your hands! The crowds will go wild! Old men will be begging to breakdance with you!’ ”
You dissolve into giggles but still you protest, “It’s just a fun song, Eddie!”
“Is it, sweetheart? Because I’m feeling a little concerned that you don’t know what fun is.” he insists, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Do you also enjoy root canals? Paying for speeding tickets? Hangovers?”
“I guess I just don’t know what fun is then.” you tease back.
Eddie’s eyes are sparkling. “Maybe I’ll teach you one day.” His tone may have been a bit flirtatious but that was just your friendship. Poking, prodding, teasing. Nothing more, you were sure of it.
You stick your tongue out and chuck the decorative pillow on the couch at him. He catches it quickly and whips it back at you, smacking you upside the head. “Hey!” you admonish but you’re giggling too much to defend your case. He just gives you an innocent look and you roll your eyes, scooting closer to him despite yourself, the sudden realization of how much space was between you two feeling odd and unfamiliar.
He can’t help but notice and bits back a grin as he feels your body heat radiating into his space. The song ends and you give him a look as Sweet Child O’ Mine begins. He fist pumps. “Yes! Now this is music, y/n.”
You giggle and roll your eyes. “I know, Eddie.” You can’t help but watch him as he fingers along on his air guitar, face screwed up as he headbangs, his brown curls flying around wildly. Affection blossoms in your chest. You’re not sure when it happened but you’d fallen for your best friend-hard.
I’m doomed. you think as he grins over at you as he sings along and you shakily return the smile. Yup. Totally doomed.
****
You sit outside his trailer, hand pressed to your horn as it blares out a loud, annoying note. Eddie scrambles out of his door, fumbling with the lock before stomping over to your car. He glares at you as he opens the passenger door. You release the horn and give him an innocent smile as he slides in. “Hi, Eddie. I’m going to be late for work if you don’t hurry up.”
“Y/n, you menace.” he says, trying his hardest to look aggravated but damn, is it ever hard as you smile sweetly at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “The whole damn neighborhood hates us at this point.”
“More fuel for my villain origin story.” you quip, causing him to laugh and shake his head. You look at him and notice he’s wearing a cropped Dio shirt and his black jeans with the knees ripped out. “Do you own anything but black?” you tease, trying to play it cool despite the fact that seeing the lean muscles of his lower stomach made your heart flutter. “You’re going to melt in this heat wave if you’re not careful.”
“I have white.” he responds, as if this is a point in his favor and doesn’t further answer your question, considering his only white shirt was his Hellfire Club shirt.
You giggle and start your car, your radio springing to life with a commercial as you back up and pull out of the trailer park. “What are you looking for?” you ask him. It was a hazy Saturday, perfect for perusing the albums at the record store. Eddie is off today but you have to work a short shift to cover for someone who was sick before the closer came in for their shift. He had decided to come and hang out at the store with you today, taking advantage of any time he had with you since your classes start in two weeks. You’ll be crazy busy and Eddie will have to share you with homework and study groups. He really isn’t looking forward to it.
“Not sure.” he responds, picking at the frayed denim around the holes in the knees. “Are you going to get anything after your shift?” He tries to not think about the same fear that pops up every semester. That you’ll find a cool college guy and fall madly in love and move in together and then get married and have babies and… He sighs quietly to himself.
It isn’t fair for him to feel this way, he knows that. But he wants you to fall madly in love with him and…yeah, get married someday. A decade of being best friends with you is a small blip of time compared to what he wants for the rest of his life.
You shrug, turning at the stoplight to get to main street. “Maybe. There’s a few albums I’ve got my eye on. And I’ve got a few bucks burning a hole in my pocket.” You patted your upper thigh with a satisfied smirk.
“And yet you bummed cigarettes off me yesterday.” Eddie says pointedly, trying to clear his mind of all of his thoughts about love and marriage. Like he’d ever get that anyway.
“Better than a joint.” you respond cheekily, giving him a shit eating grin.
“Not happening again. You gotta start paying, woman.” He wags his finger in your face as you drive and you laugh, shoving it away with one hand as you steer with the other. “I can’t go out of business because of you.”
“Can’t I get a best friend discount, Edward?” You try to pout but your lips refuse to form into anything but a smile.
“You ran up that discount years ago, sweetheart.” Eddie pokes you between your ribs and you collapse into giggles. He grins as he remembers how ticklish you are on your sides.
“Jesus Christ, do you want to get into a wreck?” you squeal as he tickles you, leaving you squirming in your seat and jerking the steering wheel, swerving into the (thankfully empty) other lane. You correct yourself quickly, getting back into your own lane and shooting him a glare.
Eddie just gives you an innocent look and you know you can’t stay mad at him. “Where’d you get your license, l/n? K-Mart?” he taunts.
You huff a laugh. “Okay, whatever, Munson. Like you’re the poster child for responsible driving.”
He sniffs pretentiously. “Of course I am.”
You hum incredulously and switch through stations. “-just as fast as we can, holding onto one another’s hands.” Tiffany’s voice rings through the speakers.
Eddie groans, slapping his hands over his ears. “Oh my god. No. Please change it.” he protests but the wide grin that spreads across your face as soon as you hear it makes his heart thud. You had made him listen to it so much in the past few weeks and he was now beginning to associate the song with you, even though he tried desperately to get it (and you) out of his head.
The last time it’d been on MTV, you had twirled around his living room, singing at the top of your lungs into your recently emptied Coke bottle like it was a microphone. He’d made faces, pretending like he was gagging as the song played but really he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your smile was so impossibly magnetic, your hair dancing around your face as you bounced. You’d pointed to him as you sang, “ ‘Cause what would they say if they ever knew? And so we’re running just as fast as we can, holding onto one another’s hands.” and the idea of running away from Hawkins hand in hand with the girl he was head over heels in love with had left him feeling a little dizzy. Then there was the time before that when you were wearing his shirt- He’s pulled from his thoughts as you sing louder.
“And then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say, I think we’re alone now!” you sing, grinning at him as you speed down the road. He pantomimes raking a mug across his window like a prisoner clanking it against his cell bars. “Oh, suck it up, you big baby.” you tease, laughing as you focus your gaze back on the road.
“Warden, warden! My cell mate’s being mean to me!” Eddie whines in a high pitched tone as he continues to drag his knuckles across the glass then drops his dramatic act as his voice returns to normal. “God, you’ve made me watch this shit so much in the past few weeks, I can practically see the music video unfolding in my head.”
“Are you complaining about the time we’ve spent together lately?” you ask, clicking your tongue disapprovingly as you pull into the parking space in front of the record store. “Here I thought you liked spending time with me.” You cut the engine and glance over at him. You find that he’s already looking at you intently, an unreadable expression on his face as his arms are crossed loosely over his chest.
His heart squeezes as you look at him, your eyes searching his face as if trying to decipher what he’s thinking. He wishes desperately he could tell you what’s running through his mind. “You know I do.” he says softly after a moment.
You swallow, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. The eye contact lingers a moment too long and before Eddie realizes what he’s doing, he reaches over your console to touch your flushed cheek. He’s dumbfounded by the soft pink tint to your soft skin, wondering if he’s reading too much into it. Wondering if he’s projecting his own emotions onto you.
“I like spending time with you too.” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper as you stare into his dark brown eyes. There’s a tangible heat to the moment, looking into each other’s eyes, his thumb brushing against your cheek, the silence filled with a searing tension. His touch is making your breath catch in your throat. Your big eyes are making his heart melt and he wonders what you’d do if he tilted your chin, leaned down and pressed his lips to yours-
Anxiety then claws at Eddie’s stomach, making him clear his throat and drop his hand. The spell is broken and you offer an awkward smile and jerk your thumb towards the storefront after an uncomfortable silence. “You, uh, ready-” Your voice comes out a bit too thick. You swallow, lick your lips and try again. “To go in?” Your voice comes out a bit more normal at least.
He nods and swiftly gets out of the car, mentally kicking himself as he realizes yet again he let his feelings get away with him. You sit in your seat for a few seconds longer, taking a deep breath and pasting a smile to your face before you exit the car. You unlock the door and lead him into the record shop, the smell of cardboard and plastic from the sleeves and the aged wood floor creaking under your feet filling your nostrils. The comforting smell of hobby-turned-work. You flick the lights on and unlock the door, turning the sign to the open side.
Eddie immediately begins to thumb through the metal section, fingers dancing swiftly on top of the records as he flipped through them. You hop behind the counter, getting everything prepped for opening. You’re not sure how much longer you can silently be in love with your best friend but you also refuse to blow up the nearly decade long friendship over it.
I just need to distract myself.
And distract yourself you will because the bell over the door rings a few moments later and a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “Y/n l/n?”
You look up, startled, to see an old classmate (who currently worked at the video store that you frequented) and his perfectly styled brown hair standing before you. “Steve Harrington?” you ask with a gasp, squinting at him. “I didn’t even know you listen to music.” you tease him.
He shrugs. “I listen to music.’’ he says vaguely as he comes over to lean against the counter “What are you doing here?”
You awkwardly look down, running your fingers along the old wooden counter, tracing the grooves and knots with your fingertips. “I work here when I’m not in class.” you say casually.
He nods appreciatively and leans across the counter. “Well, then, you may be just the girl I’m looking for.” he whispers conspiratorially, eyebrows raised a bit.
Eddie straightens upon hearing this, his jaw clenching and hands curling into fists at his sides. He’s glad he has his back to you so you can’t see how his nostrils are flaring at the very idea of Harrington looking for someone like you. Or worse yet, you wanting to be found by someone like him.
You raise an eyebrow, oblivious to Eddie’s stiffened frame and inner battle of whether or not to interrupt. “Oh? And why’s that, Steve?”
“I’m looking for a new album, something really interesting, something hip, y’know?” He gives you a charming look with those sparkly puppy dog eyes of his. What is it with Hawkins and boys with puppy eyes? you wonder to yourself as you watch him hold up a finger, signaling you to wait, and walk over to the closest rack. He withdraws one of the records and points to it. “What about this?”
You stifle a giggle as you read the cover. Here Comes The Night by Barry Manilow. You fight the smile off of your face, replacing it with a serious expression. “It’s the hippest album we have in stock.” you assure, feigning sincerity.
Steve grins then, his eyes crinkling. “See? I knew you’d be just the girl I needed. I remember you liked music a lot.” He looks around the record shop and shoves his hands in his pockets.
You furrow your brow and look at him quizzingly. “You remember that?”
He shrugs. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
You frown, unconvinced. “I didn’t think you really even knew who I was.”
“You’re kind of hard to ignore.” he responds swiftly, much to your surprise.
Eddie can hardly stand the flirty banter any more, feeling like he may spontaneously combust with white hot jealousy. He walks over to the counter and hops on top of it, giving Steve a grin that would look friendlier on a shark. “Harrington.”
“Munson.” Steve responds, looking at him warily.
You sigh dejectedly. “Get off the counter, Eddie. You’re going to get me fired.” You gently push his shoulder and he obliges, standing up with hands held up in surrender.
Steve clears his throat and looks back at you, his cautious look fading back to the charming smile from before. “If you have time in your busy schedule, I’d love to take you to dinner sometime.”
Eddie notices with dismay that your cheeks are tinged pink and it feels like his heart is sinking to his feet.
You have no idea what to do. Were you just imagining the tension between you and Eddie earlier in the car and…well, every other time? The flirty banter, the lingering looks? But…if you were just projecting what you wish was there onto otherwise innocent situations, you’d risk your friendship by telling him how you feel. I do need a distraction. you think, chewing on your bottom lip as you weigh the possibilities. Maybe this would help quell your ever-deepening feelings for Eddie. Your heart feels like it’s twisting in on itself as you offer a small smile. “Yeah. Sounds good.” You try to sound enthusiastic.
Steve’s face lights up. Eddie feels like he’s been sucker punched in the gut, feeling winded. “Great!” Steve says brightly. “Uh, well, how about tonight?” Then he winces as he notices your surprised expression. “Too soon, right?”
You laugh and shake your head. “No. I get off in a few hours and I’ll need to run home and get ready.”
Steve glances at his watch. “How about I pick you up around…seven?”
You freeze. “Uh, sure but uh…I’ll just meet you here. I live…kind of out of the way.” you lie, feeling your palms beginning to sweat at the thought of a guy like Steve seeing where you lived. The last thing you want is to be judged and while you’re not overly sure Steve would be the type to do so, you don’t want to take any chances.
He gives you a confused look but doesn’t press it. “Yeah, sure, okay. I’ll pick you up here at seven.” He smiles at you once more. “See you later, y/n.”
“Bye.” you respond with a small wave, which he returns as he leaves, the bell chiming above the door. That’s when you realize that he didn’t buy an album. Did he come in just to talk to you? You can’t help but smile a bit at yourself at the thought of having your first proper date in awhile. You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what you’re going to wear.
Eddie notices you’re blushing again. “What the hell was that?” he demands. He knows he shouldn’t be getting angry with you, that he had no right. You weren’t his. You could go on a date with another guy.
You’re startled from your thoughts by his harsh tone. You blink rapidly and look at him. His jaw is set, his eyes a bit fiery. “What?” you ask, frowning as you ducked behind the counter, withdrawing a crate of new albums to be stocked. “Someone asked me on a date and I said yes.” Crate on hip, you swivel your body to push past him and go to the As of the pop section, sliding an album in its rightful spot.
Eddie follows you, extending his hands toward you and then curling his fingers into the palms of his hands with frustration, clenching his fists tightly. “You barely even know Harrington.” he says through gritted teeth.
“That’s what the date’s for, Eddie.” you retort, rolling your eyes as you move to the Ds with your crate. “You kind of use that time to get to know one another.”
Eddie steps in front of you. “I just don’t know why you’d agree to go with Harrington. You probably have nothing in common.” He can hear how desperate and negative his own words sound but he’s panicking too much to really stop himself.
You glare at him. “I reiterate…that’s what the date is for. Seriously, Eddie, what’s with you?”
“I’m just saying, you didn’t even feel comfortable telling him where you live.” Eddie points out.
You drop your gaze quickly, shrugging. “I mean, he could be a serial killer. I don’t want him to know where I live.” you lie, setting the crate down on the floor now as your hip begins to ache. “The prettiest guys are always serial killers. Look at Ted Bundy!”
That’s about all he can take. “Oh, ho!” he says loudly, clapping. “Y/n is going on a date with a possible serial killer but at least he’s pretty. Yeah, why am I concerned again? I’m being completely ridiculous, aren’t I?” His tone is bitter.
“That’s enough, Eddie.” you grind out, giving him a dirty look. “Seriously. Drop it. You’re being a real asshole!”
A wounded look crosses Eddie’s face before it’s replaced with anger. “It’s dropped.” he all but snarls before giving you one last look, that wounded look still in his eyes, and walking out of the store.
You helplessly watch him walk away, confusion and annoyance over the whole situation rising up in you until you finally let out a cry of frustration., balling your fists up and slamming them down towards your sides like a cranky toddler. Unfortunately for you, right at the time the scream leaves your lips, a customer opens the door to find you just standing in the middle of the store screeching.
“Oh, uh, sorry! Welcome in-” you try to greet him, an older man, but he pauses and just slowly backs up before closing the door behind him and leaving.
You groan again, hanging your head in your hands.
***
Eddie had plenty of time to think as he walked home in the heat, sweat pouring down his face as he practically chain smoked just to feel a bit calmer. He felt like shit for getting angry and taking it out on you. He wasn’t really even angry with you, just furious with himself for never having the guts to actually tell you how he felt and now realizing it was too late. Why wouldn’t you fall in love with someone like Steve Harrington? You had said yourself he was “pretty”, so Eddie assumes you think he’s attractive. Plus, he comes from a wealthy family. No more trailer park if you wind up with Steve.
Once he was finally home, he peeled off his sweat soaked clothes and took a cold shower to soothe his hot skin. He stood under the shower head for far too long, letting the water run over his head. Wayne was going to kill him when he got the water bill. Before he doubled their bill, he spat the water from his lips and turned the shower off. He ran a hand down his face and shook out his hair, trying to not think about the fact that you were probably getting ready for your date about now.
With a sigh, he went to pull on his clothes, his Metallica shirt you loved to steal when you slept over after getting too high to go home. The last time you’d done that was just a little over a week ago. You were wearing the shirt and your dolphin shorts, your summer staple. The shirt was a bit long for your fairly short shorts and as you copied the dance moves off of that damned music video you loved so well, the shirt rode up some to reveal the shorts. You were spinning around and bouncing on his carpet in a slouchy pair of his socks and he couldn’t help but grin as he watched you.
He groans to himself as he turns on the TV and flops on the couch. The screen springs to life in the middle of Crazy Train. He glances out the window at your trailer and notices your car is gone. His heart aches in his chest as he realizes he was hoping desperately that you would have changed your mind.
“Munson, this is crazy.” he bemoans into the emptiness of the trailer. “Y/n deserves happiness.” But almost like a devil on his shoulder, he immediately answers himself. “But what if I could be the one to make her happy?” Frustrated, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “But what if it’s not meant to be?” he counters.
The music video ends and of course, who’s there to kick him when he’s down? Tiffany, who else?
“Jesus H Christ, do they play anything other than this goddamn song anymore?” he complains. But suddenly, he sits up and stares at the TV as Tiffany begins to sing. “Children, behave. That’s when they say when we’re together. And watch how you play. They don’t understand and so we’re running just as fast as we can. Trying to get away into the night…”
He swallows as he thinks about the first time he’d heard this song. The day after he’d hung out in your tiny pool, teasing you relentlessly about liking the song. The Coke bottle microphone, the slouchy sock breakdance, the singing in the car earlier today.
Then his mind flashed to trick or treating that last year as middle schoolers, chasing each other through the hedges of the suburbs to get the best candy bars. You being there for middle school’s battle of the bands, cheering for him louder than anyone. The day you surprised him with a Walkman after a bully had broken his (he found out later that you’d sold some of your baseball cards to do so). You being at all of his gigs at The Hideout, every single Tuesday. The way you baked cookies or brownies for him and Wayne, often remembering his uncle’s favorite and making them for him to eat at work. Friday nights of Hellfire Club where you'd get super into the game. Sleepovers with movies and sharing a joint because your mom was also working nights there for awhile. You smearing whipped cream on his face when you shared a sundae at Scoops! Ahoy. You laughing as you ran from him when you playfully stole his lighter. He’d chased you, grabbing you by your middle and lifting you up to spin you around as you giggled. The cold winter days reading The Hobbit together. Remembering the day he realized he was in love with you.
Suddenly, he knows what he has to do and he shoots to his feet. He reaches for his shoes, yanking them on clumsily as he grabs his keys. “Thanks, Tiffany!” he yells to the TV, not stopping to turn it off as he rushes out of the door. Wayne really was going to kill him.
If you didn’t crush his heart first.
***
You and Steve sit in his car in front of the record shop, trying to decide what to eat. He’s made several offers and you distractedly turn them all down. You can tell he’s growing impatient but you’re too lost in your own thoughts to really care as you nibble on your thumbnail.
“Are you just…not hungry?” he finally asks.
You shrug and realize as you look over at him, his brow furrowed in concern, his eyes searching your face, that you can’t do this. He’s a nice guy and you simply can’t hurt him. You sigh. “I’m sorry, Steve. This…isn’t going to work.”
He looks a little shellshocked, to be sure. “I mean…we haven’t left the parking lot. There’s isn’t much of a ‘this’ but, uh…”
You wince. Steve really is a nice guy and you hate doing this. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ever agreed to this. It’s not you at all, it’s-”
“Munson.” he interrupts knowingly, nodding with a look of defeat.
You gape at him, mind racing. “I was going to say it’s me. What do you mean?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Y/n, it’s obvious you two are crazy for each other. I just figured when you agreed to go to dinner with me that maybe you just didn’t really work out or something.”
You shake your head. “I don’t think he feels that way about me.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap. You’re surprised when he lifts your chin up to look at him.
His eyes bore into yours. “There’s no way you can be that blind.”
You frown, tilting your head slightly quizzically. “You think he does?” you pry.
Steve gives you a look. “It’s obvious. He looks at you like you hung the moon.”
Your cheeks warm. “You think so?” you murmur, trying to fight the smile playing at your lips.
“I-well, and about half the town-know so.” he assures you, patting your hand.
Your face softens. “I’m really sorry, Steve.” He kind of shrugs but you can see the disappointment. “If it helps, I heard Wheeler dumped Byers.”
His head snaps over to look at you, staring at you dumbfounded. “What?” he finally asks after a moment of silence.
You grin. “Word on the street is, she still has feelings for a certain video store employee.”
His face lit up, eyes shining. “Yeah?’’
“Yeah.” you confirm. “Maybe…you should call her?”
Steve gives you a smile. “Yeah. And you should call Munson.”
You bite back a smile. “Sure.” You sit there awkwardly for a second as Steve is obviously processing this information. “Well…thanks, Steve.”
“Thank you.” he insists genuinely.
You smile one last time before sliding out of his car and making your way over to your own as he pulls out, giving you a final wave before driving away. You go to unlock your door but before you can, a familiar looking van barrels down the street and screeches to a halt in the parking space next to yours.
Eddie stumbles out, rushing toward you as he looks around. There’s no sign of your date. “Where’s Harrington?”
You bite your lip. “I didn’t wind up going.” you admit.
He feels like his heart is soaring. “Yeah?” You nod, looking sheepish. He swallows and grabs for your hands. You let go for a second, crushing his soul entirely until he realizes you’re just setting your keys down.
“What are you doing here?” you ask breathlessly as he grabs for your hands again, holding them tightly in his own.
“I need to tell you something.” His voice is strained and he wonders if he’s going to be able to actually get the words out. Of course, he practiced on the way here but then he was just saying the words to himself. Now he was staring into your beautiful eyes, watching your plush lips part and close as you wait for him to keep speaking. “I needed…” He nervously wets his lips and tries again. “I needed to tell you that…” You look up at him, tilting your head ever.
“Tell me what, Edds?” you ask softly, brow furrowing ever so slightly.
Eddie swallows hard. “I love you!” he blurts out. Your eyes widen in surprise, your heart feeling like it skipped a bit but before you can speak, he continues, gripping your hands tighter as if they were a life line. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years but I really figured it out the summer before junior year. I wasn’t going to tell you but then I heard that damned song you like and all I could think about was…” He swallows again, looking down at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. “All I could think about was you and how my life didn’t really feel like it started until I met you.” Tears prick your eyes as his big brown puppy dog eyes look down at you. His own eyes are rimmed red like his emotions are getting the better of him too. “I just…thought you should know.” He closes his eyes and winces slightly as if he’s waiting to be rejected.
You squeeze his hands. “I love you too, Eddie.”
His eyes fly open. Did I hear her right? “You do?”
You nod, laughing breathlessly as the tears begin to flow freely down your cheeks. “Yes, of course I do. You’re so blind.” you say affectionately.
Eddie stares at you in amazement, frozen for a moment. Suddenly, a grin breaks across his face as it sinks in. You love him. He releases your hands and wraps his arms around your waist. “Can I kiss you?”
“I’ve been dreaming of that for years.” you admit with a smile.
His eyes sparkle as he lowers his head, his lips gently brushing against yours with heartaching tenderness. His lips are soft and warm and electricity zings between the two of you, years of pent up emotion and desire vibrating through your cores. He tightens his hold on your waist and lifts you up. You giggle into the kiss and he deepens it, spinning you around a bit as his tongue tentatively probes your lips. You happily part them for him and he immediately begins to kiss you hungrily, tongues chasing the other, moans reverberating into the kisses as you both realize just how worth the wait this moment is.
He eventually pulls away for air and dazed, you look up at him with glazed over eyes. You just smile dreamily at each other for a few moments like love sick puppies.
“All of this because of I Think We’re Alone Now?’’ you tease softly, trying to get your bearings.
“Maybe it’s grown on me a bit.” he murmurs, kissing along your jawline softly.
“I love you so much, Eddie Munson.” you sigh happily, gripping onto him tightly.
He pulls back enough to smile at you and you can see his eyes are sparkling, full of adoration as he gazes at you. “I love you more, y/n.”
It wasn’t simple at all, being in love with your best friend.
But maybe, just maybe, you all would run from Hawkins, hand in hand, eventually married in your own little happy ever after.
All thanks to Tiffany.
Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doin'
'Cause what would they say
If they ever knew? And so we're
Running just as fast as we can
Holding on to one another's hand
Trying to get away into the night
And then you put your arms around me
And we tumble to the ground and then you say
I think we're alone now (alone now)