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Steve Harrington feels like doing something stupid.
He's had that bittersweet end of the summer holiday feeling for a while now, nevermind having graduated ages ago. Everyone's been busy enjoying their time off, going off on family holidays and spending lazy afternoons in the sun, and Steve's been... Well not lonely, he supposes, just on his own a lot. And that's fine! He actually kind of likes the meditative state he gets into when he doesn't really talk to anyone for a couple of days, just walking through his routine in a haze, letting the heat and the quiet summer nights envelop him. It sure beats the nightmares, if nothing else. Maybe he can call it healing.
But it's been two weeks since Robin went off to band camp, since Nancy went off on another internship, and the kids are all busy with one thing or another, their lives much more exciting than his nowadays it seems, and there's been this... itch. Just at the nape of his neck, where his short hairs like to curl in the humid heat.
Back in the day, when he felt like this, he would have called Tommy and they'd go out to the quarry to break some shit with their baseball bats, or get into stupid dares (balancing acts on the cliffs near the lake, or ”who can hit their head hardest into this tree without chickening out” had been highlights). It had been fun, toeing that line between stupid fun and actually dangerous. That’s what being young was about right? Only... Steve was a ”responsible adult” these days. He had a job, and a gaggle of kids(teens now, really) that he's taking care of on a regular basis, and he's become the kind of guy that always has a first aid kit fully stocked in his car.
It's been nice, in a way. He's been hating himself a lot less these days, and he has to call that a win. He's proud of what he's become, really, despite his complaining. But... He's been so good, is the thing, and the supernatural threat seems to have calmed down, for now at least, so maybe he's earned some time relaxing? Like, just a little bit of recklessness, just to scratch this damn itch.
So when Eddie turns up at the store with a casual invite, well a dare really, for him to come to one of his gigs at the hideout, he seriously considers it. He shouldn't, probably. It is very likely that several of Eddie's friends kinda hate him for the shit he pulled back in highschool which, fair, and it's not like the place is very... prep friendly. But when Eddie grins at him, wiggles his eyebrows and implies that he's too chickenshit to hang with the ”freaks'' well...
”All right I'll come for ONE song” he says, holding up one finger. Eddie's smile gets impossibly wider, and his black nails stop their tapping on the counter for a moment. One of his rings sticks on his knuckle before sliding back in place.
”BUT!” Steve continues, tearing his gaze back up,”If you guys suck I reserve the right to get the fuck out”.
Eddie chuckles, and spreads his arms out, retreating and bowing like some kind of court jester or something, eyes twinkling through his bangs.
”Oh of course, we don't want to waste the precious time of his majesty king Steve!” Steve winces at the nickname.
”Doors open at nine, don't be late!”
”yeah yeah...”
”and Harrington?” He says over his shoulder, giving Steve a once-over as he's about to walk out the door ”At least try to blend in a little, will you?” And then he fucking winks.
And maybe it takes Steve a couple of minutes to recover from that because... because of some reason, fuck if he knows. In the end, the old lady that keeps coming in for suspiciously adult movies has to clear her throat twice before he realizes she's even there.
As he finishes his shift, ¨handing over to Keith for the closing shift, that floating feeling is back. If Robin was there, he would be driving her home now. For a moment, he can almost imagine her there, in the passenger seat, going on and on about Vickie, or band, or whatever random hobby she's gotten into and will drop again within a week's time. Instead, he drives home in the quiet, not really seeing the road, and as the air is making waves on the tarmac of a quiet Hawkins, he feels like he could be the only person in the world.
When he gets home, he allows himself a moment to rest his head on the cool counter of the kitchen, willing himself back to reality. He bangs his head lightly against it a few times, lets his nails dig into his palm for just a moment. It feels kinda nice. But the humming of the fridge is loud in the empty house, and the space feels too big. So he goes to his bedroom, closes the door and turns on some music. Within the walls of his room, he feels better. Contained.
After a few hours, though, he gives up trying to relax, restless energy building in his legs and hands. It's almost time, after all. After a shower (and accompanying extended hair routine, of course) he considers his options. Try to blend in a little, will you? Eddie had said, another dare, and it makes Steve feel...well he's never been good at backing down from a dare, back in his douchebag days or now. And Eddie... Well there's something about him that makes Steve want to make him eat his words. Maybe it's jealousy, after hearing Henderson go on and on about him, but it might be more than that.
Perhaps Steve kinda gets it. Kinda respects the devil-may-care attitude. Maybe he wishes he was brave enough to give all the bullshit of highschool and small town expectations the middle finger. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, least of all Eddie.
Anyway, options! He's seen what Eddie wears, obviously, and there's a few more metalheads around town, so he kinda gets the gist of it, but... Well it's not like he's been shopping with underground metal gigs in mind, is it? He's got some black jeans, an expensive pair his mother got him for a birthday on a whim – ”This is what you kids wear these days, right?” He pairs it with a dark red polo (red is metal right? Like... they like blood and stuff? Maybe?) And then… there's the vest. Burning a hole in the back of his closet, ever since Eddie said ” Keep it, big guy, you've bled enough on it to make it yours” and laughed.
He'd gotten the blood out, gotten pretty good at that by now, and if that doesn't say something about his life then... Well.
He takes it out without thinking, holding it up in front of himself in the mirror, considering. He takes a moment to check in with himself – is this going to be a trauma thing, something that sets his scars aching and his head pounding?
But, no, looks like he’s in the clear for now.
The itch is back, and his pulse starts to race but he's not... this is something different. Something stupid, definitely.
Fuck it.
Before he can think about it any more, he slips it on, meets the wide eyes of his reflection for a second, not sure if he feels more or less like himself in it, and then he's out the door because that's enough thinking thank you very much.
He takes the stairs two steps at a time, not sparing the empty house a glance as he leaves. It's not until he gets in the car that he realizes that he might have forgotten to lock the front door. Whatever, let them steal his parents shit, it's not like they can't buy new stuff anyway.
He arrives at 8.50, and hangs around awkwardly in his car for a bit, psyching himself up and checking his hair in the rearview mirror. It's fine, obviously, but not exactly blending in material. Well, its not like he's gonna grow a glam rock perm in the next ten minutes, plus he bets that would look pretty dumb on him. Robin's voice is already mocking him somewhere in the back of his head for the mere thought of it. God, he misses her so much.
Putting his head on the steering wheel, he allows himself a few moments of freaking out time. Cause, the thing is, he's wearing Eddie's vest and it doesn't smell like him any more, of course it doesn't, he'd spent ages cleaning the blood out of it. But that doesn't mean he doesn't know what Eddie smells like.
He's hugged him, once, and it's like he can still smell it, now. And he knows that it's not exactly a normal thing. But thoughts in that direction are... dangerous. He doesn't feel ready to face them. Not yet. And still, he feels that damn itch.
In the end, he waits until ten past 9 before he leaves the car, hoping that with a bit more of a crowd he'll stand out less. The hideout is what he expected, more or less. Dark, sticky floors and a large bar with a grumpy biker-looking bartender. The stage is front and center, but it's not very big. He's struck by the weirdness of empty stages, how they always feel like a different planet when the big stars are on it, but here it's just... Well it's a very climbable platform. Maybe everything is less scary in the off hours, he thinks, or when you get close enough.
He goes to sit at the bar, awkwardly orders a light beer that he knows he should be fine to drive on, and he doesn't even need to show his fake ID. The crowd is not his usual, that's for sure, and he's happy to note that he can't see anyone he recognises. The idea of one of his old gang seeing him here, wearing a denim vest with some kind of demon on the back of it , Eddie's vest, should probably be terrifying. Instead, he feels a little high on it, like he could take on the world right now.
The bar steadily fills up, and he glimpses Eddie a few times near the back room entrance, his hair always easy to spot even in this crowd, though Steve stays back, tries to stay out of sight, willing his breath to be normal, please. He wants to surprise him, that's all. He's got a plan; he's going to wipe that stupid grin of of Eddies face for once, show that he too can be, you know, cool .
Pretty soon Eddie's bandmates start setting up, plugging in their instruments and throwing out a few discordant notes, and around him the other patrons start making their way over to the stage. He gets off the barstool, slowly, hovering just behind the clusters of people, still trying to keep somewhat out of sight. Eddie is last to reach the stage, and Steve can barely see him over the heads of the crowd, but he hears him loud and clear as he plays a riff on his guitar, demanding attention.
In the lull, he speaks into the microphone, soft but commanding.
”Good evening ladies and gentlemen,”
Steve starts moving, bouncing and weaving through the crowd on his tiptoes, still only glimpsing the top of Eddie's hair.
”We are Corroded Coffin and we are here to play you some quality fucking music, are you ready?” he continues, a smile clear in his voice. There is a cheer around him, but Eddie is not satisfied.
”C'mon Hawkins metalheads, are you fucking ready??” He shouts, letting out another riff that is barely heard over the cheers of the crowd.
”That's more like it!” he shouts, and then the drummer is counting in, and around him the crowd starts moving, swinging, jumping and headbanging as the song sets off at an immediate breakneck pace, the baseline vibrating through the floor and up Steve's legs, the noise and sway of bodies overwhelming. Steve is flung back and forth for a moment, still trying to make his way forward, feeling like a fork in an ocean of seaweed and maybe he's a little drunk, if that's the only metaphor he can come up with. He dodges an elbow, the whip of hair from two different angles, and an errant bottle, but then there is a lull in the music, and the crowd opens as someone stumbles, and he's alone in a small vacuum, right in front of the stage, just as Eddie starts to sing.
tonight.... I wanna give it all to you ,
in the darkness, there's so much i wanna do
And Eddie is... Illuminated. His hair silhouetted in lights, pink and white and red, smoke billowing from the smoke machine creating a halo around him as his hands move up and down the strings of his guitar, and Steve... Steve sees the way Eddie's shirt clings to him, the sleeveless tee almost more holes than fabric, seese tattoos he didn't even know he had, and suddenly he cannot move, cannot think. Cannot look away.
and tonight, i wanna lay it at your feet
cause oh I was made for you, and ooh you were made for me
He's heard Eddie's voice before, of course, but not like this. His voice is hard and soft at the same time, full of energy and power, and when he smiles at the bassist as they get ready to start the chorus, Steve realizes that this, this is Eddie in his element. Somehow, he pushes through the panic of sensations that threaten to swallow him whole because he doesn't even really like this song that much but this is way different than hearing it on the radio. Way better.
I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me
And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?
Somehow, once Eddie finally looks down to see him, Steve has gathered his courage. He's fully embraced the fucking ridiculousness of what he's doing, and he's all in. He stares right back, a smile on his lips as the headbangers around him up their tempo. And Eddie... He fumbles a cord, drops a word, clearly clocking what Steve is wearing and for a moment, Steve feels more powerful than he ever has in his life. He arches an eyebrow, What are you gonna do about it, Munson?
Eddie finds his way back quickly, before Steve has a chance to worry that he might have actually messed up Eddie's set, and when his incredulous look turns into a Hell Yeah! Smile, Steve stops feeling smug, and just feels fucking amazing.
As the set continues, he gives in to the sway of the crowd, jumping up and down, cheering and clapping with the rest, his hair and shirt probably a sweaty mess under the heavy denim vest but he’s not the only one, so that’s okay. It's not a long set, it's a local bands night and two more bands are up after Corroded Coffin, so before long Eddie shouts a ”Thank you, you beautiful bastards!!” and heads of the stage.
Steve feels like he's floating, the energy from before feeling less dangerous, and more just like the good buzz after a great game, or a fantastic party, or a first kiss with a hot girl. Out of breath, he makes his way to the bar and asks for some water, gulping it down, some of it missing his mouth and running down his throat. Collapsing back on the bar stool, he scans the crowd, and it's not long before he sees who he's looking for. Eddie is almost sprinting towards him, his guitar left behind somewhere backstage, and his hair clinging to his cheek and a manic grin on his face.
”STEVIE!” he shouts, before he even reaches him, his energy still crazy high ”You made it!!” He sounds incredulous as he puts one hand on Steve's shoulder, the other absentmindedly removing the hair stuck to his cheek. Steve gets up, grinning.
”I did.” he says, trying to sound cool but pretty sure his face is giving away way too much excitement. Grabbing the lapels of the vest, Eddie looks down, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
”And you are wearing...” He gestures, and Steve feels a little self conscious. ”Steve Harrington!”
”Thats my name”
”I never thought I'd see the day!” He laughs, then collapses on the barstool next to him. Waving to the bartender who clearly seems to know his regular order.
”Looks like we're gonna make a metalhead of you yet, huh?” Eddie has to yell over the music, and Steve shifts closer so he can hear, trying not to think of how Eddie's breath against his ear feels. He shrugs, not sure how to explain what just happened. What is still happening.
Whatever , he thinks, that dangerous edge creeping back into his mood, maybe I wanna give that middle finger to everything too tonight. So, he turns to Eddie, lets himself be just that little bit too close, and smiles the way he really wants to, big and all teeth.
”That was fucking amazing man, you guys are great” Eddies eyebrows climb again freezing with the beer bottle halfway to his lips.
”You are just full of surprises tonight, huh?” He says, then, taking on a stance that's a little too intentionally relaxed, he goes on:
”Hey, if you want.. We are going to hang out backstage later for a few drinks... I mean, if you are ok to slum with us freaks some more...” That Eddie Munson insecurity masked in self deprecation is familiar, but it's such a contrast to the haloed creature he'd seen on that stage tonight, and he misses it immediately. He wants to bring that easy confidence back. Wants to grab it, bottle it, and keep it close. So once again, he rises to the challenge, relishes the feeling in his chest, and nods with a smile.
”Sure man, why not?"
They finish their drinks, and when the music gets too loud to talk, Eddie tilts his head towards the stage questioningly, stretching out a hand to pull Steve to his feet. Steve takes the hand with no hesitation, and they bounce around and laugh and smile like idiots as the final band finishes up their set. He doesn't recognise any of the songs, but he likes how raw they feel. It feels real.
They stumble backstage, after, and Eddie introduces Steve to everyone as ”his good buddy Steve, who's slumming it tonight!” his arm slung around Steve’s shoulder and his hair tickling his nose. They are welcomed into the group with cheers, glasses raised. The mood is high, and nobody questions Steve’s presence, instead he is offered a drink and a place on the ratty couch.
The backstage walls are covered in signatures from bands from previous gigs, too many to count and many too scratchy to make out. One of the girls from the second band ( Beat… Girls… Rage? Something like that?) jumps up and hands a liquid eyeliner pen to Eddie.
”Finally! The guys say you gotta do the honors!” She tells him, and points to the wall. Eddie smiles at his bandmates, then looks the wall up and down, trying to size up the best spot. In the end, Steve is roped in along with the drummer to hoist Eddie up just so he can put the band name as far up the wall as possible, because of course he has to be extra about it.
His leg is solid in Steve's grip, muscles tensing as he stretches up to write.
When he’s finished, Eddie jumps down with a flourish, the name Corroded Coffin now immortalized in scratchy handwriting near the ceiling. Weirdly, Steve finds himself wishing that he got to sign the wall. Just so that there was proof that he had been there, that tomorrow when he wakes up it won't all have just been a dream.
As they drink, the party gets louder and rowdier, but in a fun, giggly way, which is Steve's favorite kind of party. One of the girls (with a big mohawk and dark panda eyes) insists that they all sign her body with the eyeliner, clearly flirty as one of the drummers ends up signing the top of her boobs, large letters looking like a tattoo against her pale skin. Steve is relieved for some reason when Eddie signs her arm instead of the offered chest, and surprised when he’s asked for a signature too. He shakes his head, he's not in the band, but the girl is clearly too drunk to care. In the end, he carefully signs her arm, next to Eddie's signature, and if he feels Eddie's eyes at the back of his head as he does so, he decides not to think about it.
In the end, Eddie agrees to get his hair braided (though he takes it out right away, hair messier than ever), Gareth is dared to do a handstand which he fails miserably at, and Steve ends up singing along to even more songs he definitely has never heard of until tonight.
It's fun, it's easy, and Steve wants to show these people that he's up for a good party, even when it's not his usual crew. So, when Eddie goes for a topup of his eyeliner in the mirror after laughing so much he cries, Steve casually sidles over and tells him ”Me, too please,” and though his eyes are wide, and his fingers a little shaky, Eddie tells him to plop down on the floor next to him. It's a bit uncoordinated, and there's definitely a mutter of ”Looks like its gonna be a smokey eye Harrington, sorry” as Eddie tries to salvage his work, and Steve tries really very hard not to blink, but as he turns to the rest of the group, he gets thumbs up and cheers all around. Not to mention Eddie's Eyes, which linger on his handiwork for longer than expected. Steve feels flustered all of a sudden, it's too warm, too much, and he excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
In the slightly cooler tiled space of the club bathroom, Steve sits on the toilet seat and takes a moment to breathe. He has no idea what time it is. He definitely had more drinks than he can safely drive home on, and his eyes feel itchy with the makeup. The makeup that Eddie put on him.
Shaking his head, he does his business, the room only slightly spinning around him, and feels that brief moment of clarity that you can only have during a bathroom break on a night of drinking
As he washes his hands, he looks up at his reflection. His eyes are dark, the eyeliner shading around the corners.The makeup plus the vest is... different. But he doesn't feel wrong. It's not something he's gonna wanna do every day but it's fun. Fun to see a different version of him. He wonders if he could have been this person, if he hadn’t just hung out with the cool kids, befriended Eddie earlier. Maybe then the upside down would not have happened to him. Maybe he would just be a regular loser guy, going to a regular gig, and doing some stupid shit and having fun. It's good, he decides, to be that guy, just for a little bit. The feeling from before still sizzles, but it's different now. Calmer.
As he rejoins the party, it seems to have wound down. One of the guys is literally asleep on one of the sofas, and in the corner two of the girls are cuddled up in- no wait, they are straight up making out. Wow. He glances over at Eddie, who's finishing another can of beer in the opposite corner. The man shrugs like, ”I don't know either man” but there is a slight weariness to it. Steve shrugs back, trying to convey a ” I'm cool with it” through just that gesture, and Eddie seems to get it. Good.
Steve nods towards the exit, questioning with an eyebrow, and Eddie nods, holding up a finger before heading off to the corner to get his guitar and jacket.
The leather jacket covers up his shoulder tattoos, and Steve mourns the loss of them.
They leave the venue together, the night air a pleasant chill after the sweltering heat of the day. He likes that they are leaving together. Like he is the person that Eddie is there with, not his band. When they reach the mostly empty parking lot, Steve laughs a little, brushing a hand through his hair.
”So, uh, I didn't really mean to drink so much and I am definitely not in a condition to drive” he admits, and Eddie laughs, stumbling a little as he walks.
”Yeahhh, I’m in the same boat man, let's just walk.” He points one hand to the sky and puts his other on his hips. ”Onwards! To great drunken adventures in nighttime Hawkins!” He yells, marching down the street with overly large steps, and Steve laughs.
”All right dude, whatever, let's walk.”
Nevermind the fact that the trailer park and Steve's house are in wildly different directions, but hey, he's not quite ready to end the night yet. His thigh burns, where Eddie's leg had been brushing up against his the whole while they had been sitting on that couch backstage. He wonders if he'll ever forget that feeling, wonders what it would have been like without the layers of denim between them.
He feels bold, again, like this night can be anything he wants, anything he can imagine. So he swings his arms behind his head, looks up at the star filled sky, and says what comes to mind.
”You know... I think you got a couple of lyrics wrong” Eddie stops and turns, giving him an accusatory look.
”Hey, that was your fault, for being all sneaky and surprising me, I almost lost my way!” Steve ducks his head at the memory, grinning a little.
”I had faith in you.”
”Fucker”
He doesn't argue with that.
”Actually, that's not what I meant..” he says, after a moment.
”Hm?” Eddie has picked up a piece of dry grass from the side of the road, and is breaking it apart, throwing piece by piece into the wind, absentmindedly.
”I've heard I was made for loving you before, and I'm pretty sure it goes...” He hums a couple of bars, definitely a little off-key.
”Tonight, I wanna lay it at your feet..... Cause girl I was meant for you...” He continues, raising an eyebrow in Eddie's direction. Eddie throws the rest of the bits of grass into the air, watches as they flimmer in the streetlamp light.
”Caught that, did you...” He mutters, though he doesn't seem too bothered about it. He grabs a leaf from a bush nearby, starts tearing into it.
”Well you see Harrington, I didn't want to be... Disingenuous.”
”Disin-what”
”False? You know, bending the truth? Telling a fib?” he finishes in a british accent, wiggling his fingers.
”Ok ok I get it, geez!” Steve says, holding his hands up in surrender.
Eddies grinning now, and Steve thinks that this might be ok, actually. Thinks that they can do this, can have this conversation.
”It's cool, you know. “ He says, going for honest but not pushy.”Like. I'm cool with that”
”Yeah?”
”Yeah.”
Now it's Eddie's turn to look to the sky, a comfortable silence stretching between them.
”What about you?” He asks quietly, and Steve tenses up. He doesn't mean to. Doesn't want to. So he breathes, wills his shoulders down. It's amazing how easily Eddie asks that question. Most other people would just assume, with Steve. He wouldn't blame them. In a way, he's really grateful Eddie didn’t.
”I..m not sure.” he manages, words still slightly stuck in his throat, and Eddie nods.
”You don't have to figure it out now, you know?” Eddie says, and it's sweet. It's so sweet that it makes Steve's stomach actually hurt.
”Liking girls is... easier, you know?” Eddie barks a laugh at that.
”Sure is!” he hesitates for a moment ”you know, I did date a girl once”
”Yeah?” Eddie nods
”She was really sweet. Bit of a nerd, liked my music, was always kind to me. So I tried, you know. I tried to be what she needed.”
”But?”
”But it felt fucking terrible, man! She would kiss me or touch me and I would just try and like it so much but all I felt was this.... emptiness! And then I would feel shitty for not, you know, being someone she deserved.”
”Man that sucks” Steve says, still a little lightheaded, but feeling the seriousness of the moment. He can't quite relate to it, but he thinks he can sympathize. Maybe it's a little like his one night stands. There is an emptiness, afterward. Though they do still feel good, in the moment, so maybe not exactly the same.
”I'm not saying I'm ruling it out completely, you know? But so far, I've not really met a girl I liked like that.”
”Huh.”
He thinks of Robin. Of imagining her having to force herself to try and date a guy. He grimaces.
”It's really unfair huh.” He says, kicking a rock. Eddie hums in agreement, picking up on the gist if what Steve's trying to say.
The night is cool, and Steve feels good. The steady thrum of weirdness he’s felt for days has evened out to a calmer buzz. Something better. His pulse is still fast in his veins though, still keeping him awake, moving, a little shaky with unused adrenaline. He takes a breath.
”You ever kind of lose track of what's real and not when you're on your own for too long?” He asks Eddie, who’s found another piece of greenery to eviscerate as he walks.
”Like, you feel like you need to do something stupid just to like feel, like, real again?” He's not sure if he's explaining it properly, it's been this thing in his head for so long and it's hard to really put words to it. Eddie looks over to him, a bit of a frown on his face.
”Yeah, I think so, sometimes”, he admits. ”it's a kinda shitty place to be in. I tend to get a little...” He looks away, ”Self destructive when that happens, maybe smoke a little too much, stay up a little too late thinking about stupid stuff.” Steve nods along, gesticulating with his hands.
”Right! Exactly! I...kinda felt like that earlier today. This week, really.”
”Yeah?”
”Yeah. I don't know if I would have dared come to your show tonight if I hadn't”
”...oh”
”Don't get me wrong! I am really glad I went!” Steve explains quickly, not enjoying the look on Eddie's face.
”I needed to do something different, to have some fun and to feel less stuck in my head, and yeah, that was exactly what I got.” He looks over at Eddie, smiling faintly. He looks up, and now he's smiling back, a small, soft thing. Then it turns back to his trademark mischievous grin, his hand making a salute against his forehead, his voice mock-solem.
”You can always count on Eddie the freak for a great night of demon music and corrupting influence, Harrington!” Steve huffs out a laugh, putting his hands in his pockets and breathing out. He's sobering up, but he's still feeling good. He's definitely going to have to walk all the way back to get his car tomorrow and it's going to suck, but that's for future Steve to worry about.
Somehow they end up at the trailer park, Eddie's new trailer shiny and silver in the moonlight, and Steve isn't sure if he wants the night to end, not yet. Eddie turns around at the door, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet as if shy, suddenly.
”Well... ” He starts, but doesn't finish.
”So...” Steve tries, and fails just as spectacularly.
It's awkward, and it's ridiculous, so Steve starts to giggle, Eddie joins him almost immediately, sagging against the door of the trailer, putting his guitar case down on the steps.
”You would have thought we hadn't faced the fucking end of the world together, huh?” Eddie says between laughs, and Steve can only nod to agree.
When they've caught their breaths, Steve is closer than before, not sure when that happened, and he pulls out a hand, because he can, to pull at Eddie's jacket. He's not sure how to say this, so he stalls for a moment. In the end, It’s Eddie who speaks up.
”You know… you really do look nice in my vest, Harrington.” Eddie says, low and careful, and Steve thinks he knows what this is. Thinks he hears the question, put as carefully as possible, so that if he wants to, Steve can leave. He can pretend to not understand, and it would be ok. Eddie freaking Munson, the most caring person he's ever met. Who knew.
And if he is completely honest with himself, he had been hoping for this ever since Eddie invited him. Probably longer. He had decided, however unconsciously, that he would only be brave enough if he did it on a dare, as a reply to a challenge. As something he can call a mistake, later, if he needs to. But…
“What if.. I don’t want this to be a stupid thing that I do just because?” He whispers, still not able to give it a name. Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and Steve waits. His hands are shaking a little, and he wills them to stop.
”Then do it because you want to.” Eddie whispers back, and he has to look up at that. Has to meet those big, dark eyes.
”...You looked really fucking hot on stage tonight” He blurts out, and Eddie grins, a small thing thats building.
”Yeah?” He's closer now, but Steve is the one who moves, who wants to.
”You always look so fucking hot” He whispers, now only centimeters apart. He can feel Eddie's exhale, feel his pulse race as he gently grabs his wrist, grateful in knowing that he, too, is nervous about this.
Then Steve gently pushes forward, putting his lips against his, a gentle, careful touch against the soft lips- It's not so different from girls he's kissed, but also so so different because this is Eddie. Eddie who makes a noise that he's pretty sure is involuntary against his lips, and ok yeah, he wants more of that and so, he pulls a little, takes Eddies bottom lip into his mouth and Eddies arms flutter and move up to grab the vest, his vest, and then his hand is scrambling behind him to get the trailer door and they are falling, ridiculously, into the darkness inside of it, legs and arms sprawled. Then, they are laughing again, a loud incredulous laugh sprouting from Eddie's chest as he leans his head back against the floor, Steve sprawled awkwardly on top of him, giggling into his collarbone.
”Steve fucking Harrington” Eddie says, smiling with it where he lies.
”Shut up man”
”I just can't believe it! You know! Its you, fucking King Steve! With me!” Steve winces.
”Don't get your panties in a twist Munson, it's just me.”, he mumbles, pushing back a little, but Eddie just pulls him back, pushing up on his elbows to see him better.
”No yeah, you are right. I think I prefer just Steve a lot better anyway.” he says, all sincere and crinkly eyes, and Steve aches, but in the best fucking way possible.
They fumble their way through the dark trailer, closing the door but unwilling to turn the light on, too put this new, fragile thing of theirs under too much light. They stop to kiss more, gently, against the wall on their way to Eddie's bedroom. Steve finally, finally gets his hands into Eddie's hair and he makes a noise, and then Eddie makes a noise and oh. That's a thing for both of them apparently, and the realization sets them both off laughing again.
”Your fucking hair, Munson, you should be the one they call ”the hair”, not me” Steve whispers into it because he can, now.
”Maybe we should lay off the last names, uh, considering..” Eddie suggests between breaths as he fumbles with the final doorknob. Steve hums at that.
”Eddie”. He whispers, pushing him into the room and towards the bed.
”Edward.”
”Ah, no please” The back of Eddie's knees hit the bed, and he sits down a little awkward with a grimace. Steve leans forward, putting his mouth next to Eddie's ear again.
”How about... Eds?” he whispers, and he can see the full body shiver reaction it gets.
”Fucking hell Steve, is this why all the girls are sighing over you? Are these your ”signature moves”?”
Steve pulls back for a moment, considering. He sits down on Eddie's lap, knees on each side of him, it's a little clumsy and he laughs a little self consciously, moving a hand through his hair.
”Ah, no I think this is going to be a bit different... I uh.. Might need some guidance.” Eddie smiles, fond this time, then nods, seriously, before he looks away.
”You sure about this? Cause uh... I know you said you were still kinda figuring things out earlier...” he holds his hands up in the air in front of Steve, leaning back and once again giving him that out.
”Eddie.” Steve says, pushing his hands aside and crowding into Eddie's face.
”I want this. I want you, like, a stupid amount. If we do something I don't like then i'll let you know, I promise, ok? I mean, today is a day of trying new things right?”
”I am literally wearing makeup right now.” he says mock-serious, and it works, Eddie laughs and Steve loves that he can make that happen, can make Eddie feel good.
”To be fair, Stevie, I think you have rubbed most of it away by now. But what can I say, I love the messy debauched look” He grins, then slides his hands up the outside of Steve's thighs, and oh, that's a lot. The burning sensation from the couch before tripled now, and he really wants to feel Eddie's skin, wants to touch, wants to... He leans forward, hiding his face in Eddie's throat, blushing.
”Fuck you” he mumbles, and Eddie laughs, and in return, Steve bites him. It's only a little, but enough to show that he means it. The sound Eddie makes is worth it. Fuck.
”You need to take off your shirt like, right now” Steve whines, and it would be embarassing but maybe he left all his shame back in that fucking mosh pit with the headbangers. He doesn't know.
Eddie laughs as he lets him take off the threadbare shirt, his coat already left back in the kitchen from earlier, and finally he can see his full chest, tattoos and all.
”To be fair, that was barely a shirt to begin with” he means to mutter under his breath, but Eddie clearly hears it and finds it amusing.
”Maybe I wore it cause I hoped you might be there tonight” he says, eyes twinkling mischievously.”Maybe this is all part of my master plan to get in your pants, seducing you with my music and sexy shirts”.
Steve raises an eyebrow.
”...all right, ooor,” Eddie says, pulling on the words hesitantly, ”maybe I'm just a loser with a hopeless crush who really wanted an excuse to see him, to maybe show off just a little bit in the hopes that he might at least think I am cool.”
”Good think I already knew you were lame then” Steve retorts, but his heart isn't in it, he's busy mapping out Eddie's chest with his hands, noting every movement, every little hitch of breath.
”Shut up! Ah, can I please um,” he pulls at Steve's shirt and soon thats off as well, and Steve gets distracted by Eddies mouth again and they kiss, a lot less careful now, and Steve loves this bit, always loves learning the way someone likes to kiss, the things that make them squirm.
Eddie is less passive than most of the girls he's been with, but he's still careful, biting but only gently, pushing but only carefully, and it's surprising. So different from what he would expect from Eddie's general image, but considering the way he cares, maybe he should have. He likes that Eddie thinks he deserves to be treated this way. Like something precious.
They break apart, breathing a little heavier, and Steve is surprised, honestly, at how little he's freaking out about being with a guy. But it's not just any guy, just like Nancy wasn't just any girl. It's Eddie. Maybe the rest doesn't matter. He looks down on Éddie's chest again, thinking of all the times he's looked at guys like this before, in changing rooms and swimming pools, and thinks that ok, maybe it's not just Eddie, but it sure is especially Eddie. He feels a hand on his side, following the scarring along it. Looking over, he sees the similar scars on Eddie's stomach. It's strange, because obviously he hates that this happened to them, that this will stay with them forever, but it's also nice. To have this to share.
”We match.” He whispers, touching Eddie's scars, moving lazy circles. Eddie nods.
”Pretty damn metal, I'd say.” He jokes, putting his forehead against Steves.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Eddies legs start cramping up at the awkward angle, and they rearrange themselves to lie down togheter on the bed. Soon, they are face to face, both on their sides, in the dim light.
”Damn, you look so good in my bed Steve.” He whispers, and Steve has to blush.
”Fuck off”
”No its true, I always knew you were pretty, but this... ” He caresses his face, softly, moving his thumb to rest on Steve's lips, and he can’t help it, he darts his tongue out, licks at the thumb, and the sensation, the very concept of that sends heat straight down to his groin. Oh. Looking up at Eddie, he could see that his action must have had an effect on him too, because his pupils are blown, and his face dazed.
So they kiss about it, because there's nothing else for it, not after that, and when Eddie's hands start to wander, Steve makes some very embarrassing noises and then there's a hand on the button of his jeans, and a questioning look.
And suddenly Steve wants that very much and right now and please. But also. He doesn't want it to be just him, or just like with... with the girls. He wants to prove to Eddie that he's into it because of him. Because of all of him. So he reaches out a hand of his own, raises an eyebrow of his own, and holy shit he's made Eddie blush. Actually, straight up full face blush, and it's amazing. He knows he needs to see more. Needs to see it now, so he pushes Eddie over, straddles him, breathes heavily and looks again, meets those dark blown pupils.
”Can I?” And Eddie nods, and then Steve’s opening his jeans, and he's moving the underwear down and oh, that's what someone elses dick feels like. And then o h, that's what Eddie's face looks like when I- what if I – Oh, oh that's good huh.
And it's not weird. Or it is, but only in the way that human bodies are weird, and sex is weird. And he kind of loves it. Kind of loves that he can try things that he knows that he likes, and have them work. And maybe, he feels a little smug, being able to have this power over Eddie of all people. And most of all, he is really, really fucking turned on. Soon, Eddie makes a strangled noise, and stops Steve's hand.
”Hang on, I'm almost, I want to...” He says, breathy, and he pulls Steve back next to him, and they're kissing again and its even better now that Eddie is this breathy mess that Steve just cant get enough of and then... then Eddie is asking for permission again, and he gives it, and then the hand is there, touching him, and its good, its so fucking good. He doesn't know what to do with his hands or with his mouth or anything; he's just floating in this crazy space of pleasure as he buries his head into Eddie's neck, whispering his name, over and over. And then, in a move Steve had never considered before but is now a very big fan of, Eddie brings them together and touches them both and then it's all he can do but kiss him, desperately, and ride the wave of one of the most intense orgasms of his life.
Eddie follows not long after, and Steve thinks that maybe he could hear that voice in that way every day for the rest of his life and still not be satisfied, because jesus fuck.
”Ok yeah” he pants out, not able to help himself. ”Definitely into guys too” Eddie groans and rolls over, though there's definitely a chuckle in there.
”God if you weren't so fucking good at that I would kick you out of bed right now.” He says, and Steve grins, lazily stretching and trying to ignore the mess they've made. It's fine. It's just a little more of it than usual, that's all. He turns his head, leans so that his forehead touches Eddie, and smiles a small, gentle smile to show that he's serious.
”Mostly just into you though.”
”Yeah?”
”Yeah.”