2. A Discussion of Distinguished Media in a House F...

Before Vecna, Eddie had to say he was an atheist-leaning-agnostic. But once an interdimensional monster– who apparently used to be just some guy? He wasn’t very clear on the details– levitated a human and gruesomely killed her right in front of him, and then he went on to kill said monster with the help of a telekinetic teenager, his mind definitely opened up a little.

All this to say, he was thankful to whatever higher power aligned to give Steve the insight to pick up Vickie and Robin before him. When he slid into the backseat next to Vickie, Robin and Steve were already arguing half heartedly over something unknown to Eddie. Vickie greeted him with a wave, watching on in amusement.

“Well, if you think she’s so boring you shouldn’t have flirted back with her,” Robin said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Steve defended.

“Who did you, or did not, flirt with?” Eddie asked.

“Tammy Thompson,” They answered in unison, glancing back at Eddie. Steve started the car.

Eddie let out a short cackle at this, raising his brows at Steve. “Why would you flirt with Tammy Thompson?”

“I didn’t,” Steve insisted, glancing at Eddie in the rear view mirror.

“Tell him how you got invited then,” Robin challenged.

Steve sighed, “She was at a restaurant I went to and she came up to me, and ya know, I wasn’t gonna be rude… so I went along with the conversation. She’s asking me about what I’ve been up to, I tell her, ask her a question I think will have a short answer– ya know, goin’ through the motions–”

“Get to it, Steve,” Robin rushed.

“Okay, okay. She had been planning this sort of giant reunion party with her boyfriend, but then they broke up so she ended up having to take on the whole thing by herself… and then she started crying–”

Eddie cut him off, “She started crying?--”

“And… I sorta panicked because I’m not great at the comfort thing–”

“Shocking–” Eddie chimed in again, but Steve continued as if he said nothing.

“So I said ‘any guy would be lucky to plan a reunion party with her’--” he was cut off by everyone else in the car groaning, Vickie the only one attempting to hide her amusement. Steve glared at Robin, but continued. “And she said the party was already planned, but that I should come. I asked if I could bring friends and she said yes.”

“God, Harrington, you’re one of the most annoying kinds of people,” Eddie laughed. “The kind that flirt with everyone and don’t even know.”

“Gotta say, Steve,” Vickie sucked her teeth disapprovingly. “The damage your kind does is monumental.”

“Not you too, Vickie,” Steve glanced back at her in disappointment.

“Wait… ‘giant reunion party’...” Eddie said, furrowing his brows. He looked at Robin, who looked at Steve. “How big is this thing gonna be?”

“Uh…” Steve said as he and Robin looked between each other. “Like… a little over a hundred people–”

“A little over a hun–” Eddie’s eyes bulged, cutting himself off. “Harrington, I thought this was gonna be thirty people.”

“It’s a reunion party!” He defended.

“It’s a field trip!” Eddie immediately responded.

“Look, our deal still stands. If you hate it I’ll take you home,” Steve bartered.

“Fine,” Eddie sighed, collapsing back against the seat. “But I’m getting incredibly drunk and no one’s allowed to give me shit if I’m annoying.”

“When have we ever said you were an annoying drunk?” Robin asked.

“Well, hopefully never!” Eddie retorted. “And you’re not allowed to start tonight.”

They parked down the street from the address Steve got, and Eddie knew before he even stepped out of the car that they were in an incredibly rich neighborhood. The houses were all two to three stories high with large, lush lawns. Eddie couldn’t help but prickle a bit.

Music could be heard as soon as they turned the corner, despite the house being at the end of the street. Another thing that always mesmerized Eddie about rich people: they were somehow able to get away with throwing the most obnoxiously loud parties. Part of him wondered if some of them just straight up paid off the cops.

Upbeat pop music blared throughout the house, Steve leading them in and Eddie sticking close to Robin’s side as they moved through the swarm of people. They had yet to move through a room that didn’t have anywhere from five to twenty people in it.

Thankfully, no one needed to tell Steve to navigate them to the kitchen, and Eddie didn’t know if Steve had been there before or just had a secret skill for locating the alcohol at any venue, but soon enough Eddie was mixing himself a drink.

“Damn, you know she’s rich when she’s got,” Eddie picked up a bottle, reading the label before showing it to Robin and Vickie. “French orange liqueur.”

“Why not just use American oranges?” Steve wondered aloud and– as far as Eddie could tell– was completely serious.

“It’s… it’s a French brand, Harrington. The oranges aren’t French,” Eddie informed, biting back a laugh.

“How do you know the oranges aren’t French?” Steve countered, matter-of-factly.

“Guess I don't,” Eddie conceded, taking a healthy sip of his own drink. Obviously, he used the French orange liqueur. When in Rome, and all that.

Robin led the group into a large room with plenty of places to sit, everyone with drink in hand save for Steve. The stereo and multi-speaker set up– which Eddie mostly saw used for large concerts rather than house parties-- was still heard clearly despite being in a different room. It was muffled enough, however, for conversation to flow a bit easier.

The four sat on a large couch, Robin wrapping an arm around Vickie, sitting close but angled to talk with the group. “Luckily for you, I think you can avoid Tammy in this crowd,” Robin had to raise her voice a bit to be heard over the music and other conversations, but it wasn’t hard to hear her.

“Let’s hope so, since apparently I’m so irresistible I can’t have a conversation without it being considered flirting,” Steve grinned haughtily, Robin and Eddie rolling their eyes.

“I think you mean ‘insufferable,’” Eddie scoffed in disbelief, smiling at the absurdity of Steve’s ego.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Munson,” Steve smirked from beside him, Eddie simply shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink.

Surprisingly, Steve was not the one to get recognized. “Eddie Munson?” Eddie turned at the sound of his name, and looked up to see one of his regulars standing not far from the couch. He came over properly, a smile as he said “Thank god you’re here, man. These rich people do not share their weed, dude. And they’re mostly all doing coke, anyway.”

Eddie chuckled. “Seabass,” This seemed to be funny to Steve, as he turned to Eddie amused, eyes wide and brows raised. “Unfortunately I’m not here on business. But trust me, I sympathize.”

“C’mon… you don’t got anything?” Seabass asked with pleading eyes.

Eddie glanced at his friends. He started to get the same feeling that prevented him from selling in front of Wayne. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom. You know,” Eddie gestured vaguely to the party-goers around them. “How rich people can be sometimes.”

“Oh, for sure, for sure,” Seabass nodded, “It’s probably gonna be full, but I opened a broom closet earlier on accident.”

“Perfect,” Eddie stood up and looked back at his friends. Robin and Vickie had busied themselves in a quiet conversation until that moment, but Steve had been watching the interaction. “I’ll be back in five, guys. Uh… Harrington,” Eddie made a show of batting his eyelashes. “Be a dear and hold this,” he gave Steve his drink.

Steve gave a small two finger salute. “Guard it with my life, Cap’n.” Then he winked at Eddie. And Eddie froze for a moment, something akin to panic ran up his spine. But it was like… exciting panic. He was vaguely aware that his mouth had fallen open in the slightest, as if his mouth was trying to say something, before he realized he had no response.

“You comin’?” Seabass called from a few paces away, snapping Eddie back to the task at hand.

The broom closet was just barely big enough to fit both Seabass and Eddie inside, the former elbowing Eddie in the ribs in order to turn on the light. “I don’t got a lot on me, I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t here for business.”

“I don’t care, man, I’ll take what I can get,” Seabass urged. “My girlfriend just dumped me.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face fell a little, feeling awkward because he really didn’t know this guy outside of selling him weed. “Sorry… to hear that, Seabass… Uh… I can sell you some joints for five bucks. That good?”

“Yeah, thanks man,” Seabass awkwardly pressed into Eddie while trying to get his wallet, nearly knocking him over as the floor was mostly filled with cleaning supplies. Eddie tried to not let it annoy him, but he was feeling a little scatter-brained. Seabass finally pulled out two fives and shoved his wallet back into his pocket, holding out the money to Eddie. “I’ll take two.”

Eddie, thankful that he had the foresight to roll some joints while he was waiting to get picked up, ended up elbowing Seabass himself as he reached into the inner pocket of his vest. He pulled out a plastic baggie with three rolled joints, tucking away the five before pulling out two of the joints and pocketing the other. Eddie held them out gingerly to Seabass, who tucked them into his beanie.

“Pleasure doing business,” Eddie smiled before clumsily following Seabass out of the closet, separating and making his way back to his group of friends. Steve was holding Eddie’s drink to his chest, gesturing wildly with the other hand as he animatedly talked to Robin and Vickie about something.

He glanced up, face brightening a bit as he saw Eddie. “Munson! Settle something,” he handed Eddie back his drink as he returned to his seat. “Is it inherently flirty to tell someone they have nice eyes?” All three of them looked at Eddie expectantly.

“Mmm…” Eddie thought about this. “No? I guess not?”

“What?!” Robin exclaimed as Steve clapped his hands together, smugly looking at her.

“Thank you!” Steve proclaimed.

“Aw, Eddie,” Vickie frowned. “I thought we all agreed Steve is a menace that must be stopped.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie gave a deep sigh, mustering up his most forlorn face. “But I unfortunately have to agree with the menace on this one.”

“Are you kidding?” Robin’s eyes bulged. “Saying someone has nice eyes is the universal code for ‘I wanna smash.’”

Steve rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Please, it is not,” Steve gestured to Robin. “I think you have nice eyes!”

“Wow,” Vickie deadpanned. “Stop trying to fuck my girlfriend, Steve.” Eddie barked a boisterous laugh at this, biting the rest of it back behind his lip as he shared an amused look with Vickie.

“A guy can’t compliment his friend’s eyes anymore? Jeez,” Steve said dramatically, leaning back and draping one arm across the back of the couch, behind Eddie. “Munson has nice eyes,” he said matter-of-factly, gesturing to Eddie loosely before looking him directly in the eyes and saying, “Nice eyes, Munson.”

If there was ever a time Eddie knew what a deer felt like in headlights, it was right now. His face heated and for a second his entire body froze. He scrambled to distract from the weirdness of the situation by pointedly ignoring Steve and looking at the girls. “Okay maybe there’s no way for him to say it without being flirty, but it’s definitely possible for other people.” Steve made a show of rolling his eyes. “Who are you telling that they have nice eyes, anyway?” Eddie asked, curious,

“Tammy’s best friend, Clarissa Sherfield,” Robin supplied.

“She has nice eyes!” Steve blustered in defense.

“Great!” Robin laughed. “Was telling her that worth her thinking you're trying to sleep with her?”

Steve let out a groan, collapsing back onto the couch, arm still slung over it. “Why does everybody gotta read into things?”

“I think the problem is you don’t read into things at all,” Eddie chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, which he had been thoroughly enjoying while everyone ganged up on Steve.

“Neither do you,” Steve grumbled. Confusion washed over Eddie’s face.

“What?” Eddie asked, turning to look at Steve properly. “Trust me, Harrington, I’m definitely on the side of reading into things too much.”

“Chip. Hudson’s. Birthday Party,” Steve announced in a suddenly louder voice, sitting up again like he had the answer to a million dollar question.

“Again with Chip Hudson’s birthday party,” Eddie muttered to himself, giving a defeated gesture with his free hand. Steve continued.

“You and Chip sang Somebody To Love by Queen, and while it was clear that you were just having fun– drunk out of your mind– Chip had his arm around you the entire song,” Steve explained, Eddie vaguely remembering snippets of this, but it was extremely fuzzy.

“He was grinning at you the whole time,” Vickie added.

Steve nodded. “Basically serenading you and you didn’t even notice.”

“And then you had the audacity to argue with me over whether or not he was gay!” Robin's eyes were wide with amusement.

“Admittedly, that doesn’t sound like the most heterosexual scene,” Eddie conceded with a laugh of his own. “And I frankly remember almost none of that night, so I guess I can’t argue my point again.” With this, he finished off his first drink. “I’m gonna go get another.”

“I was actually about to do the same,” Robin said, unwrapping herself from around Vickie.

“Bring me another, too?” Vickie asked, handing an empty cup to Robin who agreed before walking with Eddie back to the kitchen.

“Hey, by the way,” Robin said, leaning close so Eddie could hear. “Did you show Steve where you keep your mags?”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Yeah… why?”

“I know he doesn’t know... ya know… and I don’t know if you remember but you have some… pretty damning evidence in that drawer,” Robin informed, and suddenly Eddie remembered going through a gay soft-porn mag with her on a particularly slow day. They had played a game where they guessed if the guys were bottoms or tops to pass the time.

“Shit, you’re right,” Eddie tried to keep the rigidity running down his spine to a minimum, but anxiety had already set in. “He didn’t find anything on your shifts together?”

“No, not that he said to me.” Robin assured. Good, Eddie thought to himself. Now all there was to do was wait until his next shift, which if he remembered correctly would be before Steve’s. “Although… I’m not saying you have to tell him, obviously. Do that when or if you want… But I really don’t think he would say anything. At least, he wouldn’t be a dick about it.” She scoffed a bit as they finally pushed through the people into the kitchen. “I mean, it’s Steve, so he might make some dumb joke, but not in a… homophobic way.”

Eddie sighed. “I know he’s not… like that. At least not with you and Vickie, but… I dunno, guys sometimes are… different when it’s another guy,” Eddie shook his head, feeling like he was implying he thought Steve was a shitty guy, which he really wasn’t. “They think we’re… predatory, or some shit… and suddenly feel threatened or uncomfortable around us. And if things got weird between Steve and I, it’s not like I only see him when I hang out with you. We gotta work together, a lot of the time alone.”

Robin gave him a sympathetic look, patting his back lightly before sliding her arm around his shoulders loosely. She let out a thoughtful sigh. “I get you. Girls can kinda act the same way when they find out a girl isn’t straight. Just thought it was worth mentioning.” Her arm dropped away as she started on making Vickie’s drink.

“Thanks, Rob,” Eddie knocked his shoulder lightly into hers when she wasn’t pouring, and soon they walked back to the couch where Vickie and Steve seemed to be talking about Fast Times.

A few drinks later, and Eddie could safely say he was thoroughly wasted. Not quite one-eye drunk, but he definitely lost all sense of spatial awareness and balance when he walked. At some point, Vickie and Robin got up to dance and didn’t return, but Eddie didn’t complain because one: he was too drunk to care. And two: he felt they were sufficiently fulfilling Robin’s 70/30 deal.

Steve had wanted to smoke a cigarette, so Eddie was currently doing his best to navigate a relatively spinning hallway in order to get to the backyard. Eddie lost his balance just a bit, stumbling into Steve with a giggle he wasn’t coordinated enough to hold back. Steve steadied him easily, pushing him slowly into a sturdy stance with a laugh. “Walk much, Munson?”

“Shut up,” Eddie laughed again, catching his bearings.

“Here,” Steve repositioned Eddie so he was in front of Steve but facing forward. Steve’s hands rested heavily on Eddie’s shoulders as he gently began to push him to a walk. “Think you need a babysitter,” Eddie could practically hear the smirk in his voice, likely because it was so close in his ear it would be hard to miss.

Eddie’s already unclear head became fuzzier, a lazy smile permanently affixed to his face. The outside air hit Eddie like a wall, and he didn’t realize how humid it had been inside until that moment. He took a deep breath, sobering in the slightest. The backyard still occasionally dipped on its side, but he felt less like a newborn deer.

Steve and Eddie sat side by side on the edge of the porch, feet dangling a few inches off the grass below. Steve pulled out a pack of Camels and lit one before tucking the box back in his jacket. “See you dropped the jacket/vest combo for just the vest.” Steve commented, pulling the cigarette away to let out a puff. “Aren’t you cold? It’s like the middle of spring.”

While typically a spring night in Hawkins would likely be too cold to forgo a jacket, Eddie had a simple answer for Steve: “Knew I was getting drunk,” he shrugged. “Don’t get cold when you’re drunk. And thank god for that decision, because a leather jacket in there would’ve been hell.” Eddie was finding it particularly hard to get out his 'L's, 'S's, and some 'R's, but he managed.

Steve smiled at this. “Fair enough.” He took another puff of his cigarette before looking back over at Eddie. “Want some?” He held out the cigarette between his fingers.

Eddie, well aware that if he wanted a smoke he could pull out his own, said, “Sure,” and took Steve’s offer. Frankly, getting out his own cig and lighting it was a lot of hand/eye coordination Eddie wasn’t sure he could be bothered to attempt. He blew out a puff of his own, saying “Thanks.”

Steve looked at Eddie with curious amusement. "...Seabass?" Eddie laughed at this, Steve joining in. "Is that really his name?"

"No, his full name's Sebastian, obviously," Eddie smiled, his mouth moving slower than he would like but getting the words out eventually. "He wasn't born and his parents were like... Ay," Eddie began in an exaggerated New York accent. "You know what that kinda reminds me of? A 'saltwata' fish."

Steve laughed harder at this. "I guess that's a good point," a small silence fell between them as Eddie smoked. “So…" Steve began again when he composed himself, "On a scale of one to Tammy Thompson’s singing, how much are you hating this thing?”

Eddie hummed. “Like a four. 'S pretty fun, actually,” Eddie turned to face Steve, grinning. He felt warm all over. “But what can I say, I’m a helluva bartender.”

“Certainly succeeded in getting yourself drunk,” Steve noted, accepting the cigarette from Eddie after he took a second hit.

“Can you blame me? This," he gestured to the general area, "Is intimidating. Guess I prefer kickbacks,” Eddie mused idly. “Less eyes on you. Lower stakes.”

"You helped kill a disciple of the Mind Flayer and you think a party with a bunch of college kids is intimidating?" Steve raised his eyebrows humorously.

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, turning a patronizing look on Steve. "Ooh, 'disciple,'" Eddie leaned in, air-quoting tauntingly before leaning back out of Steve's bubble. "That's a big one for you, Harrington."

"Thanks, learned it from Henderson," Steve smirked.

Eddie drunkenly giggled a bit to himself, muttering, "'Course you did."

"Ya know, it's funny," Steve said, “All those reasons are actually kinda why I like bigger parties,” another puff of smoke.

“How so?” Eddie raised his brows, not seeing how more people could mean less eyes.

Steve shrugged. “At bigger parties, there’s so many people and so many things happening all the time, if you fuck up… or do something stupid…” Steve gestured vaguely with the cigarette to the separate groups of people scattered around the backyard, all having various forms of boisterous conversations. “Everyone’s so preoccupied with their own shit that no one’s really paying attention to you.” As if to add to Steve’s point, Eddie only just then realized a group of loud guys were having a very intense cartwheel competition. They erupted into a cheer as a guy did, admittedly, a pretty impressive cartwheel.

“Guess I never thought about it that way,” Eddie conceded thoughtfully, looking back at Steve.

Steve smirked, tapping his temple. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Munson.” He passed the cigarette back to Eddie.

“Hey, a pretty face can get you far in life,” Eddie pointed at him, his words slurring in just the slightest. He opened his arms wide, gesturing to the scene Steve just referenced. “Got us to this party, didn’t it?”

“And next, the White House,” Steve said in a whimsical tone.

“God, for America’s sake I hope not,” Eddie chuckled, taking a drag. “Though I guess even you would be better than Reagan.”

Steve scoffed, muttering. “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.” Relief flooded Eddie that he agreed with the sentiment. Steve supporting Reagan would’ve likely had Eddie walking all the way back to the trailer park.

“Kickbacks also have their benefits, though,” Steve said. “Sometimes you don’t wanna be surrounded by drunk total strangers. Instead… you wanna be surrounded by drunk friends and friends of friends.”

“And you get to see everyone doing stupid shit,” Eddie passed the cig to Steve. “Remind your friends of how dumb they were.”

“Yeah, like you at–” Steve started, Eddie rolling his eyes humorously as he joined in to say “Chip Hudson’s birthday party.”

Eddie smiled, nodding in amusement. “Yes, yes. Despite remembering next to nothing of that night, I’ve had quite the vivid picture painted for me.”

Steve laughed at this. “I can’t help it, alright. That was the first night you really... let loose. And boy did you draw attention. Mr. Less-Eyes.”

Eddie groaned. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything ridiculously embarrassing,” he looked at Steve, nervous and bracing for the worst.

An impish smirk crossed Steve’s face, “I’ll never tell,” he said downright mischievously. He took a drag, still smirking as he looked at Eddie out of the corner of his eye.

With a noise that was halfway between a groan and a chuckle, Eddie hid his face in his hands. He moved them away, forcing the embarrassment down and replacing it with his own smugness. “You know what, I will not be shamed by a man who has rented Grease four times.”

“Hey,” Steve tried to manage a serious demeanor, but was smiling as he pointed a scolding finger at Eddie. “I draw the line at Grease slander. It’s a fun-loving movie for the whole family.”

A laugh fell from Eddie without permission as he looked at Steve’s frail attempt. “Listen, I’ll give it to you that the music is great. But four times?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, determined to humiliate Steve for this even if his words slid together. “And with very little time in between. Some would argue that’s a concerning amount of Grease consumption.”

“And I would argue that they’re a killjoy. And are living a sad, Grease-less life.” Steve retorted, pulling another laugh from Eddie.

“I guess John Travolta was pretty hot in it,” Eddie wondered aloud, mostly to himself. Realization at what he said hit him, but he barely had a second to freeze up over it.

“See!” Steve gestured appreciatively. “Fun for the whole family,” he emphasized. Eddie felt his worried mouth turn back into a smile. Steve held out the short cigarette, “Here. Kill it.” Eddie obliged before snuffing it out on a heavily-filled ashtray next to him.

“Hey! There you are,” the guys turned to see Robin’s arm slung over Vickie, Robin looking worse for wear. “Robin’s feeling kinda sick. Do you mind taking us to my place?” Vickie asked Steve.

“I threw up in a vase,” Robin supplied groggily, inebriation glassing her eyes that could barely be considered open. Eddie breathed a laugh.

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” Steve said, standing up and looking down at Eddie. “You ready to go?”

Eddie nodded, attempting to stand up but immediately lowering himself back down when the world span just a bit too fast. “Whoa, easy there,” Steve chuckled as he grabbed Eddie’s hand, pulling him up slowly and steadying him by the shoulder with his other hand. “Alright, let’s get the party animals home.” Eddie allowed himself to be led out of the still packed house, Steve this time leading him through the sweaty bodies by the hand.

When they got outside, Steve glanced at Eddie. “Can you walk by yourself or am I gonna have to carry you to the car bridal style?” He teased.

“You wish, Harrington,” Eddie slurred out, chuckling essentially to himself as he dropped Steve’s hand and made a show of walking in a straight line to the sidewalk. When he spun around to take a bow, he almost tipped over, but Steve had apparently been following closely and quickly reached out to steady him by the waist. “See? Practically sober.”

“Hate to tell you this, babes," Vickie said sweetly . "But you were essentially serpentining through the yard." There was an entertained smile on both her and Steve’s lips. Robin had her eyes fully closed, Vickie leading her.

“I’m better than her,” Eddie said with a poorly timed hiccup as he gestured to Robin. “She’s not even one-eye drunk, she’s no-eye drunk.”

“In her defense,” Vickie said. “We did some shots in the kitchen.”

Eddie gasped in offense, dramatically placing a hand over his chest as Steve and Vickie steered the group in the right direction. “Without me? Hurtful, Vickie. Hurtful.”

“We couldn’t even find you guys,” Vickie chuckled.

“We thought… you guys went up to a room together…” It was clear that it took all of Robin's brain power to form sentences, face contorted like she might throw up again. But still, her words were heard clearly. Eddie barely registered Vickie elbowing her in the side.

Eddie blew a raspberry that turned into a giggle at the absurdity of the notion. “Why would we do that?” Steve remained silent.

Robin shrugged in slow motion, eyes still closed. “I dunno anymore. But there was a reason.”

“Aaand we’re here,” Steve finally cut in, slowing Eddie to a stop by the shoulders when he almost walked past the car. “Nope, this is the car, Munson. Vickie, I’ll drop you and Robin off first. Robin if you're gonna throw up hang your head all the way out the window like a dog, 'kay? Way easier to clean the outside than the inside.”

“Whoo,” Robin cheered quietly at the mention of her name, not at all acknowledging what Steve said to her.

Robin and Eddie sang along, no doubt obnoxiously and off-key, to ABBA on the radio as Steve drove them to Vickie’s house. The ride flew by and miraculously Robin didn't throw up again. Soon they were waiting for Vickie and Robin to get inside. Vickie gave a little wave as she cracked open the door before ushering Robin into her house, the door closing behind them.

“Alright, next destination: casa de Munson,” Steve said as he pulled out of Vickie’s driveway.

It was then that Eddie was reminded other people existed. “Shit, what time is it?” He tried to force his eyes to focus on the dashboard clock. He let out a small noise of frustration. “Why are analogue clocks so hard to read when you’re drunk?”

“It’s a little past midnight,” Steve glanced at Eddie. “Why? Did you need to be home earlier?”

“No, the opposite,” Eddie sighed. “It’s fine. I just thought we’d be home later and my uncle would be asleep…” he trailed off, hesitant to add “I don’t really like Wayne seeing me like this. He gets… worried. Ya know, after everything…” As soon as he said it he felt like he’d shared too much, burdening Steve or something. He quickly gave a dismissive wave. “It’s totally cool though, he’s not gonna be mad or anything.”

Steve was silent for a second, seemingly thinking to himself while he kept glancing between Eddie and the road. “What if we did something else until you sobered up?” He offered.

His first reaction was to reject, of course. That was definitely asking too much of someone who already stayed sober the entire night just for him. “You don’t actually gotta babysit me, Harrington, it’s fine,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head lightly.

“I’m not babysitting you,” Steve gave a snort. “We’re hanging out. Ya know. What friends do,” he shot Eddie a smirk at this. “Though apparently you’ve been telling Robin you don’t consider us friends. Words hurt, Munson.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with an uncontainable smile. He hadn’t expected to be this happy over Steve calling them friends. “Fine, I guess you’ve earned official friend-status.”

“Good god you’re standards are high,” Steve chuckled. “Glad to know I made the list.”

“Yeah, but it’s like a constantly updating list and there’s a limited amount of spots,” Eddie rambled matter-of-factly. “So you never know when someone could bump you off. Gareth could come in on my next shift and offer me a blowjob and you’re–” Eddie made a clicking noise in the side of his mouth, jabbing his thumb behind him. “Right off of there.”

Steve laughed as he asked “And where am I on the list?”

“Definitely last place,” Eddie maintained his sincerity, nodding certainly.

“Last place?” Steve looked over briefly, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah. Seven out of seven,” Eddie informed without hesitation.

Steve laughed loudly at this. “Who’s Gareth and where is he on the list in comparison to me?”

“He’s a… reasonably-annoying band member, and obviously he’s not on the list,” Eddie lolled his head to look at Steve, who had yet to inform him where he was taking them. “Hasn’t given me the blowjob yet,” Eddie supplied plainly.

“Right, right, how foolish of me,” Steve nodded. “Well, until Gareth shows me up and I’m officially no longer your friend, I have something to show you.”

“You’re not planning on taking me out to the woods, murdering me, and burying me in a ditch are you?” Eddie asked, a morbid smile on his face. “Because that would be like, really uncool.”

“Dammit Munson” Steve said with exaggerated disappointment. “You guessed my plan! Gotta come up with something else now.”

“Aw jeez,” Eddie threw up his hands, pretending to be disappointed in himself. “That was rude of me. I dunno what I was thinking.”

“Yeah, well, watch yourself,” Steve scolded, but there was a lopsided smile on his lips. “Pull one more stunt like that and you’re off my list.”

Eddie gave a sloppy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

+++

Out of the things Eddie expected to be in Steve’s trunk, a net-bag of old baseballs was not one of them. The bat, however, was par for the course. He was surprised by its lack of deadly add-ons, though.

“So you are gonna murder me,” Eddie stated.

“Not today, Munson,” Steve grabbed the bag of baseballs and the bat before shutting the trunk and locking it. “Follow me.”

“You just keep those in your trunk?” He asked as he followed Steve to a large clearing not far from the road, just before the treeline. They were on the outskirts of Hawkins.

“They’re good for clearing your head,” Steve said simply.

Steve led him toward a log lying on the ground, surrounded by empty bottles and cans. Besides broken glass lying around the log, the bottles were relatively neatly piled up.

“How often are you out here?” Eddie asked, noting the somewhat large quantity of bottles.

Steve shrugged, dropping what he held to the ground a healthy distance away from the log. “Pretty often, I guess.” Eddie didn’t know what he thought of this fact about Steve Harrington, his brain still too foggy to form all of his thoughts, but he knew it intrigued him. “Wait here,” Steve said before jogging over to the bottle piles, picking up a few and taking them to the log.

A strong breeze blew as Eddie watched Steve set up the bottles from afar. He crossed his arms, regretting his decision to abandon his jacket now that he was outside and sobering up. Slowly, yes, but surely.

When Steve jogged back he had a smile, “Okay, sorry. We gotta be kinda far back cause if the,” he took in a breath, pausing briefly, “glass shatters the wrong way… ya know… it could blind ya. But!” Steve interjected himself when Eddie furrowed his brows, pursing his lips in uncertainty. Eddie's face fell into a smile, however. “That’s what clears your head. The danger… and it’s fun,” he gave Eddie a charming smile, that mischievous look back in his eyes. “I promise.” Eddie thought Steve kind of had nice eyes, too.

“Well?” Eddie raised his eyebrows at Steve. “I’m expecting a demonstration, Harrington.” Steve’s grin practically split his face at these words. He dug out a ball from the bag and picked up the bat, spinning it around his hand in that cool-guy way that had Eddie smiling into his hand over how ridiculous he was.

“Watch and learn, Munson,” Steve winked with a click, not giving Eddie time to recover before tossing the ball straight up. His bat hit with a loud ’crack,’ shooting straight to a bottle and shattering it. “Yeah, baby!” Steve cheered as he fist-pumped in self-congratulations. He turned to face a very stunned Eddie.

“Okay,” Eddie scoffed in shock, “That was actually pretty impressive. I didn’t think you were actually gonna hit it first try.”

Steve popped the color of his jacket exaggeratedly, his face graced with the most arrogant smile Eddie had ever seen. “I keep telling you I’m more than just a pretty face,” he gloated, Eddie too at a loss for words to respond. Steve’s eyes glanced down to Eddie’s grip tightening on his arms before flicking back up. “You cold?”

“Little bit, but I’ll live,” Eddie shrugged.

“Take off your vest,” he said, tossing the bat onto the ground.

“You’re supposed to put clothing on when you’re cold, Harrington,” Eddie teased, but his limbs listened to Steve before his brain had time to think, already slipping off the vest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve flopped his hand dismissively, sliding off his own jacket and tossing it to Eddie. “Here. Gimme your vest. I run hot.”

Eddie caught it, luckily. “Okay, but you can’t steal it this time. It’s my last one,” Eddie smirked as he tossed his vest to Steve.

“Oh… I can, uh, give that back,” Steve said, uncertainty tinging his previously cocky tone. “Sorry.”

“Nah, keep it,” Eddie said as he shrugged on Steve’s jacket which– wow-- overwhelmingly smelled like Steve. “It looked good on you.” Immediately Eddie felt heat flood his face as the words left his mouth, completely of their own volition.

Steve’s face lit up with a shocked laugh. “Thank you for saying that, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Eddie pointed at him accusingly. “You agreed we wouldn’t talk about anything annoying I did!”

“That’s actually not what we agreed,” Steve pointed back, “And it doesn’t matter because that doesn’t fall under annoying. Our deal doesn’t apply here, technically.”

“Whatever,” Eddie laughed, holding out his hand and waving it. “Just give me the bat so I can play your little ball game.”

Steve picked up the bat and got another ball before coming over to Eddie and handing them to him. “Just focus on hitting the ball first. It’s actually harder than it looks,” he advised.

“I get it, you’re a jock,” Eddie smirked, getting into a position he felt he could quickly transition into swinging. Despite his teasing, he did as Steve said, and to his disappointment, missed entirely.

“Told ya,” Steve supplied unhelpfully. Eddie shot him a weak glare before picking up the ball and trying again. He missed the second time as well, but managed to hit it dead on the third time around. It did not, however, hit a bottle.

“Not bad,” Steve encouraged. “It wasn’t too far off either,” Steve pointed a little ways away from the log. He picked up the ball bag and dumped the remainder of them onto the ground next to Eddie, but out of his way. “Try again.”

So Eddie did. He missed a few times here and there, but eventually the problem was no longer hitting the ball, rather getting it to go where he wanted. “Think it might be a hopeless endeavor, Harrington,” Eddie said with a sigh after another miss. He’d lost count how many it was.

“It’s not hopeless, drama queen,” Steve said with a playful roll of his eyes. He moved to stand behind Eddie, pausing and holding his palms open, “Can I try to help?” Eddie nodded for him to proceed. “Drop the ball, just grip the bat.” He obeyed.

Eddie had an idea of what Steve was going to do, but it did not include him resting his hands on Eddie’s waist and straightening his core. “Back straight, bend your knees a little,” Steve commanded, voice far too close to Eddie’s ear, making his breath hitch. He could only hope it wasn’t noticeable to Steve.

Despite the screaming state of his mind, Eddie did as he was told. Steve’s hands came to rest on the outside of Eddie’s forearms, guiding them to where they should be. This was supposed to be sobering him up, but Steve practically wrapping himself around Eddie was making his head spin all over again. “Relax,” Steve said softly in his ear, wiggling Eddie’s arms until they were forced to loosen. He breathed a quiet chuckle at Eddie’s rigidity.

“When you swing back,” he continued to speak quietly as he moved Eddie’s arms back slowly, then let his hands fall onto either side of Eddie’s waist. “Turn your whole body,” Steve twisted Eddie’s torso towards where his hands were holding the bat on the backswing. He kept one hand on Eddie’s waist and the other went back to his forearm. “Then when you swing forward, keep your eye on the target,” Steve briefly removed a hand to point at a bottle. “And follow all…” Steve rotated Eddie’s arms and torso until their upper bodies were turned the complete opposite way as the backswing. “All the way through.” Eddie turned a bit more to get a look at Steve’s face, but he made a noise of disapproval, grabbing Eddie’s chin and directing his gaze back to the bottle. “Eyes stay on the target the whole time, Munson.”

His hand fell from Eddie’s face to rest once again on his waist, but only for a moment before both his hands slipped away. He took a few steps backwards and Eddie found himself missing the pressure. He also found it a miracle he stayed standing.

Eddie swallowed thickly. Maybe alcohol and being alone with Steve was a precarious combination. Noted, he thought.

He tried a couple more times, trying to follow Steve's advice. “Harrington, I think you somehow managed to make me worse.”

“No! You almost got that last one,” Steve argued encouragingly. “Just try a few more times. You’re so close.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” Eddie conceded with a sigh, getting into position again. He took a deep breath, scouting the bottle he wanted to aim at beforehand. With a final attempt to focus his consciousness, he tossed the ball up and swung.

He heard the shatter before his eyes registered what they were seeing, and then a wide smile split his face as he jumped up and down, dropping the bat and throwing his arms up with a cheer. “Holy shit! I fuckin’ did it!” He turned around to face Steve, still grinning as he dropped his arms.

Steve had cheered before Eddie did, and came over now to wrap a heavy arm around Eddie’s shoulders, tugging him into a triumphant side-hug as he continued to celebrate Eddie’s success. “I told you!” Steve exclaimed. “See? Wasn’t that worth it?”

“That was ridiculously satisfying,” Eddie said honestly, buzzing from the accomplishment.

Steve released him from the embrace with a smug smile. “Would you say it was a sobering experience?”

“Actually,” Eddie said. “Yeah. Kinda just feel like I have an adrenaline high.”

“You should go a few more times,” Steve gestured. “Then I’ll take you home.”

Eddie managed to hit three more bottles within ten attempts, which he thought was a pretty significant improvement. Turns out Steve might actually be a good teacher. When his infuriating, unintentional flirting didn’t get in the way, that is.

He pointedly ignored his disappointment when he and Steve switched their jackets back. He also pointedly ignored his enjoyment over the fact his vest now smelled a bit like Steve.

+++

The lights were on in Eddie’s trailer when they arrived, his brow creasing at the sight. “It’s like three AM,” Steve commented. “I figured he’d be asleep.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Eddie agreed, his eyes lingering curiously on the illuminated windows. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. I’m sober now.” He popped open his door and got out, but kept it open as he bent down to look at Steve, one hand on the door and the other on top of the car. “Uh, thank you… for tonight,” Eddie gave an awkward smile. “Like… all of it, basically.” He chuckled, tacking on a teasing demeanor. “Guess it’s actually kinda cool to be Steve Harrington’s friend.”

Steve gave a dramatic roll of his eyes, but he was smiling as well. “I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya that,” his smile changed from one of amusement to something more akin to… fascination? Eddie couldn’t quite pin it down, but he’d seen the man wear it occasionally, and it intrigued Eddie every time it was pointed in his direction. He wondered what Steve possibly found fascinating about him. “If only you weren’t so damn stubborn.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it up to my therapist, if I ever get one,” Eddie joked. He sighed before saying “Well, guess I’ll see you at work, Harrington. Night.”

“Night, Munson,” Steve said as Eddie closed the door. He gave Steve a final wave before unlocking his trailer and stepping in. Steve’s car didn’t start up again until the door was closed.

Sitting on the couch and watching tv with a nearly finished glass of whiskey, was Uncle Wayne.

“Hey, kid,” his voice was more gruff than usual, how it always was when he was tired after a long day at the plant.

“Surprised you’re still up,” Eddie commented, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his keys.

“Eh, yeah, well…” Wayne shrugged, eyes tired and movements sluggish. “Wanted to make sure you got in okay.” A pang shot through Eddie’s chest, but he swallowed it down. “Have fun?”

“Yeah, it was… it was cool,” Eddie nodded, giving a tight smile.

Wayne threw back the last of his whiskey before turning off the tv and standing with his empty glass. “Good, uh… that’s good,” Wayne nodded back at Eddie, ruffling his hair as he walked past him into the kitchenette, putting his glass in the sink. “Get some sleep kid,” Wayne gave a small, tired smile before heading to his room.

“Night Uncle Wayne,” Eddie called softly after him.

“Night,” he said before disappearing into his room, the door clicking quietly behind him. Eddie turned off the lights and headed to his room, closing his own door and leaning back against it with a long exhale.

He knew it wasn’t Wayne’s intention to make him feel bad, in fact the man would probably be deeply saddened that his worry would cause Eddie to feel guilty. But that just made it even worse. Eddie couldn’t imagine what Wayne went through the moment he came home that night last spring... All Eddie knew was when he came back his uncle was different. And even though he had no control over it, he had caused it. Here he was, still unable to stop causing more trouble than he’s worth.

That night Eddie dreamed he was in a room full of people, all too disgusted and full of disdain to look at him longer than it took to scowl in contempt.