Chapter Text
Steve Harrington hangs his head as the fourth girl he’s struck out with today walks out of the door to Family Video, the bell annoyingly ringing as she departs. In the four months since Vecna, he hasn’t been having particularly good luck with the ladies — Robin, in the infuriating way she likes to make fun of his love life, informed him his current standing is worse than what it was at Scoops Ahoy. He didn’t know if his game was just off from the whole ordeal over spring break, or if it had something to do with him, and Steve couldn’t even get the chance to feel sorry for himself because the bell was ringing again. A customer is walking through the door at seven-thirty on a Wednesday night, thirty minutes before close, and Steve just wants this day to be over. A moment later, a pair of ring-adorned hands are slapped onto the counter in Steve’s field of vision, fingers giddily drumming on the wood. Steve slowly lifts his head, wincing in preparation because he already knows the gist of what is about to fall from Eddie Munson’s lips. He’s been hearing it all summer.
Eddie is grinning at him, his head cocked to the side as he scrutinizes Steve’s body language. He’s wearing his leather jacket, despite it being hotter than hell itself outside, a t-shirt with the name of a band on it that Steve doesn’t recognize, and a pair of black jeans, ripped at the knees. Steve begins to sweat just looking at him, but he’s not sure if it is because of his predicament, the heat, or just from the sight alone of Eddie. The sarcasm is practically dripping from his lips like honey when Eddie asks, “Why the long face, lover boy? Did we get turned down again?”
The faux genuinity makes Steve roll his eyes. Robin, who is shelving returns, grins and waves to Eddie from the other side of the store. He waves back, smiling at her just as wide. Steve reaches for the hold list under the counter, mumbling mostly to himself, “Yeah, yeah. I don’t think we would’ve worked out anyway, so...”
“Worry not, my friend. I’m sure the right gal will come along soon enough.” Eddie’s words have a bite to them but the smile he wears contradicts it. It makes Steve frown, but he decides to ignore it. Instead, he casts his head downwards to scan the list for Eddie’s name.
“Thanks, but, uh..." Steve trails off, pointing at the hold list. "I don’t see your name?”
“Oh! Well, that is because I’m not here to rent a movie.” Eddie draws out the last syllable of the word, leaning over the counter and fiddling with one of the pens Steve has in a cup.
There’s a glint in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t place, and it makes him squint suspiciously at the other man, not knowing where this is going at all. “O-kay...?”
“Do you recall a few months ago, when we were in a dimension much more upside down than this one, you said you had no idea who Ozzy Osbourne was?” The cup of pens and pencils falls over, the writing utensils rolling down the counter towards Steve.
Steve sighs, catching them before they fall on the floor. He picks the cup up and puts them back in it, shooting Eddie a glare he usually reserves for Dustin Henderson only. “Yeah, I remember. He bit the head off of a bat or whatever. Uh, where are you going with this?”
“Patience, Harrington! I’m gettin’ there." Steve now recognizes the glint in his eyes as the one he has when he's about to spin a story for the kids during D&D. Steve braces himself for whatever he's in for. "It’s taken me a while, two whole weeks, but I think I’ve narrowed down your music taste. Well, if your Bee Gees and ABBA cassettes are anything to go by.”
Steve’s eyes widen and he instinctively hushes Eddie, his body and hands surging forward as if he’s about to put a hand over Eddie’s mouth. Steve doesn’t, but Eddie reflexively steps away an inch from the counter, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “Keep your voice down, dude, what the hell.”
Eddie laughs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning even further away from Steve. He’s smirking, the little shit clearly enjoying himself. “Is King Steve embarrassed because he enjoys disco?”
Steve grimaces at his old title and can feel the defensiveness rising in his throat like bile. His head whips around to find where Robin is, ensuring she’s still on the other side of the store and out of earshot. He hisses, “I-I’m not—I don’t just like disco, okay?”
Eddie’s smile somehow grows wider at the admission. “Yeah, I know. I saw Queen and Tears for Fears and Foreigner and Bowie, but that’s beside the point. They were on top, the ones you don’t care if people see. The ones you want no one to see were alllllll the way in the back of your—”
“Did you break into my car?” Steve interrupts, anger adding to the cocktail of emotions he’s currently feeling.
Eddie shrugs. “You left it unlocked.”
Steve makes an indignant noise from the back of his throat. “That’s a felony!”
“Not if I didn’t take anything! I just found your super-secret, poorly hidden cassette collection and moved on with my day.”
Steve is rendered speechless, sheer embarrassment being the only sensible thought he’s able to have. All he can do at this point is accept defeat and bury his face in his hands. It’s not the first fight he’s lost and he knows it won’t be the last.
Eddie notices this and leans forward on the counter, smacking at Steve’s arms to get him to remove his hands. Steve doesn’t budge, opting to be melodramatic instead. “Hey, come on. Why are you so embarrassed, man? Music is music. It’s all art, and taste is subjective. I fucking love disco, too.”
Steve moves away from the makeshift wall he built and considers this. Why was he mortified knowing Eddie Munson knew of his love for disco? Why did it matter? But that was often the crux of most of Steve’s existential questions: Why did he care so much about what people thought of him? Steve thinks back to how he would only play what he knew Tommy and Carol liked whenever he would be stuck carting them around, and Nancy took it upon herself to always play her music when she rode with him. It wasn’t until he became a glorified chauffeur for Robin and the kids that music became a hot topic of discussion; the kids would argue over what would be played, only agreeing that it wouldn’t be whatever Steve had and Robin pilfered his cassettes for a few minutes every time she got in his car. She stuck her nose up at the primarily pop selection of music, and muttered something along the lines of Why doesn’t this surprise me? while flicking on the radio. Steve showed Jonathan his tapes once after he asked and simply said I’ll show you some good music. He and Will later gifted him Hunky Dory for his birthday, and he used to play the cassette whenever Will was in his car before they moved to California.
But then, Eddie Munson was shoehorned into his life by the most fucked up circumstances in the world, and Steve suddenly became more concerned about the music he listens to than he ever did before. He didn’t care what Jonathan or Robin or Dustin said about what he listened to, but Eddie? Steve found himself turning down the radio whenever he had to drop Dustin off at school for a Hellfire session on the off chance Eddie would hear it from the inside. It wasn’t something Steve was aware he was doing, not until now.
Eddie is so passionate about music and he knows what he likes, even if most people are put off by it. Similar to Steve, Eddie didn’t care what they said about his music taste, but for different reasons. Because Eddie did not care what people would whisper about him on the street behind his back. He is proud of who he is. That is something Steve knows he can never accomplish and he’s envious of Eddie for that. He’s envious of how he can be so comfortable in being himself, something Steve has struggled with his whole life.
So, Steve blinks and straightens his posture, trying to channel Eddie’s confidence. “You? Eddie Munson—” Steve gestures with his hands, pointing at his all-black outfit, jewelry, tattoos and all, “—Love disco?”
“Well, okay,” Eddie makes a so-so motion with his hand. “I wouldn’t say love. How about, I appreciate disco for what it is?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Steve chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “And thanks for not... I don’t know, being a dick.”
“I am a bit of a dick, though.” Eddie pinches his thumb and index finger close together. “Just a bit.”
“I’m not gonna disagree, but at least you weren’t a dick about my music taste like I assumed you would be.”
“What? Why?” Eddie’s smile fades, confusion etching his features.
“I don’t know,” Steve answers. “Like, Jonathan loves music a lot, too, right? And he’s...”
“Pretentious about it?”
Steve chuckles. “Pretty much. You’re so different than him, though, and I just—Man, I have got to stop making assumptions about you, Munson.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot from you, Steve.” His smile has returned and Steve’s glad to see it.
Steve’s embarrassment slowly dissipates and a heavy silence fills the air. Eddie is fiddling with a pen, clicking it over and over again. Steve lasts a minute before speaking up. “Well? Are you going to explain why you broke into my car or what?”
“Right,” Eddie sets the pen down and begins fiddling with a ring on his finger instead. “We’ve been hanging out a lot this summer, right? And it hit me that I didn’t know any of your interests or hobbies or whatever. And you don’t know Sabbath, so I let myself into your unlocked car to get a gauge on your music taste, and...”
Eddie trails off, shoving his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket. He bites his lip, pulling out a cassette case, delicately holding it between his index and middle finger. Steve reaches forward, the tips of his fingers brushing against Eddie’s. The slight touch makes electricity spark down Steve’s spine. “I made you a mixtape.”
Steve’s mouth falls agape as brings the tape closer to himself, reading the scrawled words on the j-card. Steve recognizes a few of the bands from Eddie or otherwise, but none of the songs. Nine songs. A mixtape. For Steve. His chest swells with emotion at the sight of it; no one has ever done something like this for him before. “You made me a mixtape?”
“Yeah,” Eddie ducks his head, his hair falling into his face and hiding his expression. “They’re songs I think you’d like by bands I like. Think of it as... a way to broaden your horizons.”
“Broaden my horizons?” Steve echoes.
“Dipping your toe into the pool of rock ‘n roll and heavy metal?”
Steve cringes. “I like the idea of broadening my horizons better.”
Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah.”
“This is really cool, man. Thank you.” Steve smiles at Eddie, trying not to let too much emotion bleed through his voice.
Eddie finally meets his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
It’s an oddly tender moment for two people who never take each other seriously, opting to joke and tell each other to fuck off than be genuine or address the weird tension that lingers in the air around them every so often. Steve allows his eyes to stay on Eddie’s for a moment longer than what would be considered normal, and when he finally tears them away, Eddie clears his throat.
“Well, I better get going. Hope you enjoy the mix, Harrington.” Eddie knocks on the counter twice and steps away, bouncing on his feet as he walks to the exit.
The bell over the door rings once again and it grates Steve’s last nerve. He really doesn’t want to strike out today for the fifth time.
“Eddie,” Steve calls out before the door swings shut. Eddie’s head pops back in the glass door, half of his body still outside. His big brown eyes are filled with concern and he looks so damn cute and it gives Steve all the courage he needs. “Do you want to listen to it together?”
Eddie properly reenters the store, the concern morphing into surprise. Steve takes that as not a no and barrels forward. “I get off at eight. Would you mind waiting twenty minutes?”
Eddie’s face breaks into a smile but he isn’t given the opportunity to respond because a voice from behind Steve says, “I’ll cover for you.”
Steve jumps out of his skin and shoots into the air. He would have fallen on his ass if it weren’t for the human being standing directly behind him. He falls into Robin instead, who immediately pushes him off of her and back onto his feet. Steve whips around to smack his best friend on the arm. “Jesus Christ, Robin! How long have you been standing there?!”
She erupts into a fit of laughter, clapping her hands in front of her chest. “Sorry!”
Judging by the way she’s trying to stifle her giggles, she is not apologetic in the slightest. Steve sighs, the bravado he built up wilting away from him. He turns to smile sheepishly at Eddie. “Well?”
Eddie is lingering by the door with his hands behind his back and he’s kicking the tips of his Converse into the patterned carpet. He has a tight-lipped smile and Steve assumes he’s also trying not to laugh at him. Eddie nods, ducking his head again. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Cool,” Steve breathes out, directing his attention back to Robin. “You sure you’re okay with covering for me?”
Even though he’s asking, he’s already in the midst of removing his vest. Robin rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, dingus, it’s only for twenty minutes. I’ll call Nance for a ride home. Go get ‘em.”
She shoots him an exaggerated wink and Steve deeply regrets ever telling her about the small crush he has on Eddie Munson. He whips her with his vest and hops over the counter before she has a chance to retaliate. He grabs his mixtape, clutching it in his right hand tightly. “Bye, Robs, I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure to clock out for me or Keith will have my ass on a platter! Oh, and thanks for covering for me, I guess.”
“Who knew King Steve could be so humble!” She calls out after him. Steve flips the bird over his shoulder, not even sparing her a glance just to spite her. Robin laughs.
Eddie walks backward and kicks the door open with his foot, the glass vibrating and the bell ringing once again. He steps to the side, holding it open for Steve all gentleman-like. “See you later, Buckley,” he says.
Eddie salutes her as Steve passes through, the door swinging shut behind them. Steve and Eddie pause as they gaze out into the parking lot, where both of their vehicles are parked. Steve fishes his keys out of his pocket and begins twirling them around his finger by the key ring. “So, I figured we could drive around listening to it? We can swing back here for your van when we’re done, or we could go to mine and listen on my stereo. Your call.”
“Got this all planned out, do you?” Eddie begins walking forward toward Steve. He stops directly in front of Steve; they’re inches apart.
Steve swallows. He’s still spinning his keys. “I mean—”
The keys are suddenly snatched from his grip, Eddie triumphantly grasping them in the palm of his hand. He begins making his way to the driver’s side of Steve’s car, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m driving!”
“Hey!”
Eddie opens the door, looking at Steve from over his shoulder. Steve left it unlocked again. Oops. He rests his elbows on the top of the door, smirking at Steve knowingly. “You have a mixtape to listen to, man, and it needs your full attention. I know how difficult that is for you.”
“Hey!” Steve says again, scrambling to the passenger side of the car when Eddie steps in. “Fair enough, dude, but ouch.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie puts the keys into the ignition and turns it, Steve’s BMW roaring to life. “For the record, Harrington, if my baby has been stolen when we get back, you’re buying me a new van.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the people of Hawkins are just dying to steal that rust bucket.” Steve settles into the passenger seat, clicking his seatbelt on. It feels awkward slinging across his chest in this direction, as he hasn’t had the honor of riding shotgun in a long time. Steve sends a silent prayer to whatever god out there that Eddie is a better driver than Max. Eddie puts his car into reverse, resting his hand on Steve’s headrest as he twists his body to look out the back windshield. It brings Eddie’s face closer to Steve’s than he was anticipating. Steve resists the urge to turn his head so much as an inch to the left, not knowing what would come over him if he did. His eyes fall to his lap instead, where Steve is holding the mixtape. He notices on the side of the case is FOR STEVE written in black ink. Eddie’s all-caps, messy handwriting should not be nearly as endearing as it is, and Steve can feel his heart swoop in his chest at the thought.
“You’re a mean, evil bastard, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, shaking his head as he shifts the car into drive.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, not even remembering what he said prior. He really does get distracted easily. Steve clears his throat, opening the cassette case and popping the mixtape into the slot in his radio. Eddie pulls out of the Family Video parking lot and heads into downtown Hawkins, as the sound of Dio fills the car. Steve rolls down his window, manually cranking the handle and leaning on the door with his elbow. The summer air hits his face as they drive down Main Street, all the shops busy again since the mall burnt to a crisp. The sun has begun to set, the humidness of the hot August day dissipating with it and leaving the beginnings of a yellow-orange sunset. Steve steals a glance at Eddie, who has one hand on the steering wheel and is staring intently at the road. He has the sun visor down, leading to his lips, nose, and neck being illuminated by the sun. His pale skin is left being showered by the sun’s rays, coloring it the same yellow-orange hue and Steve thinks he looks gorgeous. He wishes he could see if his brown eyes would change color, too. Steve looks away before he gets caught staring, shaking the thoughts from his head as quickly as they came. Eddie sings softly to the music as Steve keeps his eyes locked on the town outside of his window, the other man’s singing barely audible over the stereo.
It's always a mystery
Just like you and me
Steve rests his head against his hand, closing his eyes and focusing on the music. It’s a far cry from the disco or pop music Steve is accustomed to, but he finds himself not hating it as much as he was expecting to. The song fades out and another one begins. Eddie smacks him on the arm, jostling Steve out of his relaxed posture.
“Dude! Ow!”
“It’s Ozzy,” is all Eddie says in response, his voice giddy.
“Oh!” Steve sits up, oddly excited to hear Black Sabbath for the first time. It’s different, but Steve kind of likes it. “Huh. He does sound like the type to bite a bat’s head off.”
Eddie chuckles, peering questioningly at Steve. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, trust me. Speaking from experience, there is a certain, uh, aura one must have to do such a thing. And I can tell, Ozzy is exuding it.” Steve is talking out of his ass and he knows he sounds like an idiot but the smile on Eddie’s face is worth it.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes out, laughing. “Well, when you graduate from pre-metal, I’ll be more than happy to show you some more Sabbath. Er, if you want to, that is.”
“Man, pre-metal? Am I gonna have to start calling you Professor Munson?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, your majesty. Don’t like having someone else steal your shtick of having a title?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You and Robin are the only people who call me King Steve anymore, you know.”
Ozzy’s voice fades out a minute later and the third song comes on. Steve checks the j-card and recognizes the name of the band. It was one of the pins Eddie has on his denim vest. Judas Priest. “Well, Professor Munson, I couldn’t get into college and I barely graduated high school, so you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
“Yes!” Eddie exclaims. “Oh, I will make a metalhead out of you, Harrington. Just you wait.”
Steve can’t help but smile at Eddie, knowing that no matter what it is, he could never say no to him.
This time that Steve and Eddie hang out is drastically different than the other times. They have become considerably closer since the events of March, an unspoken act upon their group to bring Eddie into the fold. Going through the things they’ve gone through forged an unbreakable bond between them; it happened with Steve and Dustin, and then Robin, and Eddie was certainly no exception, despite his best efforts. Robin and Dustin took it upon themselves to help Eddie finally graduate high school, having study sessions every single day after school. It nearly drove Eddie mad; he had never studied this much in his life and he told Steve on many occasions that he was going to wring Dustin’s neck with his bare hands. He would come in with Robin to drop her off for her shift and hop onto the counter, not caring if there were customers in the store. Steve would bitch at him for it every time, and every time Eddie would snatch a bag of M&Ms and bitch right back, his mouth full. Eddie would leave shortly after finishing the bag of chocolate, and more times than not Steve would have to take a quarter out of his own pocket because Eddie wouldn’t bother to pay for it. Eddie’s near descent into madness and all the studying ended up being worth it in the long run, as he ended up getting a C plus on Ms. O’Donnell’s final. He walked the stage with Robin and Nancy in May, received his diploma, and finally graduated high school.
Feeling more comfortable that his mom and brother were in good hands since Hopper was alive, Jonathan applied to Emerson College. He got an acceptance letter three weeks before graduation and Robin got into a liberal arts college in New York. In the blink of an eye, three of Steve’s best friends were leaving Hawkins in August. Joyce decided to move back after Jonathan finished high school in California, not wanting Will and El to be separated from their friends as they endured the rest of school. Because even though this town has done nothing but chew them up and spit them out, and harbored nothing but horrific memories and unbearable pain, it was still their home. And the rest of their family was here and they would be able to get through anything as long as they had each other.
So, Robin and Nancy were close, Robin and Eddie were getting closer, Jonathan moved back to Hawkins in June, and Steve was just happy that he gets to spend time with three of the people he loves most in this world. It became routine, then; the five of them hung out every single day as if it was their last, ignoring the inevitable day that sits on the horizon as much as possible. Eddie was initially reluctant to be looped into their group activities but grew more comfortable as time went on. He fit perfectly into their group, a piece of the puzzle that they never knew was missing in the first place. They bounced around each other’s houses, but Steve’s was the primary hangout spot since his parents were never home and he had no siblings.
Eddie was always the first to show up and the last to leave, and he and Steve would hang out on their own if their other friends or the gremlins were unavailable. They would catch a movie, lounge by Steve’s pool but never get in it, drink beer, smoke weed, share a cigarette, whatever would faze them in the moment. They never went anywhere too public though because, despite Eddie’s name being cleared by the government, the people of Hawkins wouldn’t easily forget three murder charges by a so-called freak devil-worshipper. It made Steve’s blood boil, thinking about the disgusted looks and insults leered Eddie’s way when he walked down the street with his friends. Of the disapproving tone his father used when he asked Steve if he was hanging out with Eddie, never caring about anything Steve did unless it would taint the family name. And most of all it made Steve want to roll Eddie up in bubble wrap, to shield him from any vitriol spewed his way. Eddie would kill him if he knew Steve felt this way, if he knew of the unspeakable anger that bubbled in his chest every time he heard someone gossiping in the aisle of Family Video, the way his fists would clench by his sides. Eddie would kill him because he kept insisting that he was fine, that he was used to it, and that Steve had nothing to worry about. But Steve knew better. He knew Eddie better. He saw the way he would flinch before the mask came back up and he’d retort back, easy-going grin toying on his lips and a pep in his step. Eddie could shake off being called a freak because of the way he dressed or because he loved D&D, but being called a murderer struck a nerve, because of course it did. Steve would be more concerned if it didn’t.
So, Steve’s house became the designated hangout spot unless the newly reunited party of nerds were joining them because for some reason assholes were less inclined to hurl insults at them if they were grouped together. One look at a supposed murderer, a young girl with a shaved head, the boy who came back to life, and King Steve mother-henning them all, people tended to give them a wide berth in public.
This time that Steve and Eddie hang out is drastically different than the other times. The thought rattles around in Steve’s brain like a mantra, the word 'different' replaying in his head over and over again. He can feel that there is a shift between them but he can’t put his finger on what it is. What is it about this time that is different than the others? The song changes again, playing the fourth song, and Steve shelves his thoughts for later. He wants to focus on the music and forget about everything for a while. He knows he’s setting himself up for failure, as the only thing he’s been able to think about recently is the person sitting next to him drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Eddie drives around the outskirts of Hawkins, sticking to side streets and bordering on the county line. The car is silent, other than the occasional singing, tapping, or humming coming from Eddie. Eddie flips the sun visor back up when the sun begins its descent past the horizon, the sunset painting Eddie’s skin in pink and orange like he’s a goddamn canvas. Steve wishes he had a camera to snap a picture of Eddie so he’d never forget this moment. It’s unfair, Steve thinks, that Eddie can look this flawlessly beautiful and have no idea what he’s doing to Steve.
Jesus Christ, Steve makes himself want to hurl. He hasn’t thought about anyone like this since Nancy and it terrifies him.
The sixth song comes on when they’re at a stop sign. Eddie can go, there is no one coming, and Steve is about to say something when he notices Eddie is rustling around in his pockets. He’s mumbling to himself, his tongue sticking out in effort as he searches in his right pocket. He then tries for the left one, leaning in Steve’s space once again. Steve moves away, not daring to breathe Eddie in.
“Aha!” Eddie exclaims, brandishing his pack of Camels like they’re a prize. He begins rolling down the window, finally taking his foot off the brake. “You don’t mind if I smoke, do you? I’ve been dying for one.”
Steve figures he’d end up doing it even if he said no, so he gives in easily. “As long as you’re sharing.”
Steve snatches the pack of cigarettes out of his hand and begins searching for the lighter he keeps in his glove box. He finds it behind his poorly hidden cassette collection, no doubt knocked back by Eddie rifling through it. Robin and Nancy would not be pleased if they knew Eddie got him smoking again but, what was he supposed to do, say no?
Steve lights the cigarette, snaps the lighter shut, and inhales deeply. He exhales the smoke out of the window and passes it to Eddie, who takes it gratefully. Steve lets Eddie have most of it, only stealing a couple of drags off of the cigarette.
The seventh song comes and goes, and by the eighth, Eddie sticks another cigarette in his mouth and beckons Steve to hand him the lighter. Steve simply leans into Eddie’s space, lighting it for him. He does not miss the way Eddie completely stiffens, his knuckles going white as he clutches the steering wheel. Eddie’s body loosens again when Steve retreats to his seat. It’s yet another action from Eddie that Steve files away for later to dissect as he stares at his bedroom ceiling in a fit of sleeplessness.
Steve smokes more than half of that cigarette.
The ninth and final song on the mixtape begins, and disappointment pools in Steve’s stomach when he notes that Eddie is heading back into town. He checks the j-card again, as he has been every time a song has come on, and it’s only then that he notices — not one, but four — four songs happen to have the word ‘love’ in the title. Huh.
He had heard the word a couple of times in the first eight songs, but the possibility of it being purposeful never dawned on Steve. Half of the songs that Steve likes are love songs, it’s nothing crazy.
But that was Steve. This is Eddie.
Steve may not be all that familiar with metal but he gets the feeling they don’t typically sing love songs, and this guy is repeating the words All of my love to you an awful lot. Did he add them because he knows Steve likes romantic love ballads or was it deeper than that?
Steve’s eyes flick over to Eddie, who is worrying his lower lip. He stops when he feels Steve looking at him and purses his lips instead. Steve looks away, considering for a brief, fleeting moment, what if Eddie feels the same way?
Then, it hits Steve like a fucking train as to why this feels different. It’s intimate. It's personal. It's real. Just the two of them confined in Steve’s BMW, the only thing separating them being the center console. Eddie made him a mixtape of songs that he specifically tailored to Steve’s taste, rather than to Eddie’s own. They haven’t spoken much, and it was comfortable, easy, rather than awkward or uncomfortable like the dates Steve has been going on.
Steve Harrington is on a date with Eddie Munson, and he’s not sure if Eddie is aware of it. He’s not sure if Eddie would even want that. He’s not sure of a lot of things.
The tape ends at the very moment the realization washes over Steve like a bucket of cold water. He’s left reeling as he shakily ejects the tape, setting it back in its plastic case, hoping the darkness of the car hides his hands.
“Well?” Eddie asks, flicking on the turn signal. His voice is the softest Steve has ever heard it be, his normal boisterousness gone completely.
Steve’s heart begins beating erratically, the silence making this more intimate than it was before. He swallows, willing his voice to be stronger than he currently feels. “I guess they call you Professor Munson for a reason. That, uh, that was pretty good.”
“You liked it?” Eddie questions. He sounds shy. It’s endearing as hell.
“Yeah, Eddie, I liked it.” Steve is bursting at the seams with affection for Eddie. He wishes he had a camera again. “The first, like, five songs were good but I really liked the last four.”
Eddie chuckles softly to himself like he’s laughing at a joke Steve doesn’t understand. It makes Steve frown.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just—The last couple of songs aren’t exactly my favorites, but I put them on the tape ‘cause I figured you would like them. And you liked them the best.” They’re in town once again, the streetlights lighting up the car. Steve can see Eddie is grinning.
“That predictable, am I?”
Eddie shrugs, bringing the car to a stop at a red light. “I think I’m just that good.”
Steve laughs. “Yeah, I think so, too.”
The air grows thick with tension and the car falls silent. Eddie pulls into the Family Video parking lot three minutes later, sighing wistfully when he sees that his van is parked in the same spot it was an hour ago.
“Damn,” Eddie says, putting the car into park and turning the engine off. “I was kinda hoping I’d get a free van out of you, Harrington.”
“Say the word and I can take five grand out of my dad’s bank account.” Steve is only half-joking.
Eddie’s lips curl into a smile and he clicks his seatbelt off. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Steve rolls up the passenger side window, sets the cassette in a cup holder, and steps out of the car. Eddie follows suit. Steve begins walking him towards his van.
“Wow, how gentlemanly of you, Steve. Are you going to bestow a kiss upon me and then watch me ride off into the sunset on my great steed? Are you going to ask my Uncle Wayne for my hand in marriage tomorrow?” Eddie takes on a posh British accent, bowing elegantly when he reaches the door to his van.
Steve knows he’s fucking with him but still blushes regardless at the thought of kissing Eddie. Steve playfully shoves him in the shoulder instead. “I was just gonna thank you for the sweet gift, you dick.”
“Anything for my gallant King in shining armor,” Eddie replies, smiling softly.
“Eddie. Seriously. Thank you.” Steve rests his hand on the same shoulder he just shoved and squeezes it.
“Steve. Seriously. You’re welcome,” Eddie parrots. He pats Steve’s hand, squeezing it back and keeping it on his shoulder for a moment before letting Steve go. “I’m glad that you liked it.”
“Yeah, man,” Steve takes a step back. “I look forward to more pre-metal lessons.”
Eddie laughs, opening the door to his van and hauling himself inside. “I will hold you to that, Harrington.”
The door slams shut and Eddie smiles at Steve through the window before cranking the handle to roll it down. Steve wants to ask him if the mixtape was more to Eddie in the same way it was more to Steve. Wants to pull him out of that van and hold him in his arms and never let him go.
But instead, Steve takes another step backward and says, “I’ll see you later, Munson.”
Eddie smirks at him, starting the van. He doesn’t bother putting on his seatbelt this time. “See ya, Stevie.”
“Don’t call me that!” Steve as he walks back to his car.
“Sorry, Stevie!”
Steve groans, eliciting a laugh from Eddie before he drives out of the parking lot. He sticks his hand out of his window and waves goodbye to Steve, the only part of his hand visible being his rings. The moonlight flashes off of the silver, casting light on the otherwise dark night.
Steve waves back and watches Eddie drive off into the night, his eyes staring at the spot Eddie once was. He lingers in the empty parking lot a moment longer, before hanging his head in defeat and getting back inside of his car. He bangs his head on the steering wheel once, twice, three times. Before driving back to his house, he picks his mixtape up and traces his fingers across the words FOR STEVE, his body burning at the touch.