#anyway we love oblivious blundering Eddie

[miserablekingsteve]

My kinda lover; Part 1 Steve's POV 1/1 Part 2 Eddie's POV 1/2

Rating: T Word count: 8k You can also read this on AO3 <:)

Eddie laid in bed, eyes wide and heart hammering in his chest. The sound of tires on gravel crunched outside and Steve drove off with Robin. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he threw the duvet off and all but ran to the bathroom. He’d woken up entangled with Steve, who was trying to leave the bed, probably because Eddie was trying to hold the guy's fucking hand. He stared at himself in the mirror; curls stuck up and around his head, his bangs stood straight off his forehead, cheeks flushed a light pink, and the bags under his eyes were puffy. He looked like a mess. 

 Sighing, Eddie gripped the faucet of the tap and turned the cold water on full blast. When the cold liquid hit his hands, a shockwave vibrated throughout his body, and goosebumps appeared on his arms while he splashed the water on his face. 

 He’d had this stupid crush on Steve ever since 12th grade, when that switch had arrived where the asshole gorgeous jock suddenly had a heart of gold, dropping the shitty friends and smiling at Nancy like she held the world. When Steve stood up to Billy Hargrove and his face was all fucked up at school, yeah, that was a turn on for him.  

 “Argh,” He growled to himself, looking in the mirror again and rubbing his hands with aggression over his eyes and cheeks, “Stupid, it’s stupid!” 

 This had only happened to him once before, and by this he meant the very normal human thing to do in having a crush on someone. It was some boy named Clarke. God knows what the kid's last name was, in 5th grade; he had bright blonde hair and a ridiculous amount of freckles, he and Eddie used to sneak off the elementary grounds into the forest that resided next door and pick up sticks to play fight with. Then Eddie had moved to Hawkins to live with Wayne and he never saw Clarke again. 

 Pushing himself off the sink, giving up on the desperate search for something in his own face that he knew he’d never find. He’d done such a good job at avoiding his feelings for his friend the whole Upside Down adventure, then even more when the two of them sat together in a hospital room. The memory of making the ugliest fart jokes imaginable and actually made King Steve laugh, squeezing his eyes closed tight at the mere thought of the man’s laughter. Shit. 

 “Fucking… soft and, ugh, such a jock,” Eddie muttered under his breath as he searched the pockets of his many coats that sat in a pile behind his bedroom door. A bubble of frustration blossomed as each pocket came up empty, “Where the fu—Aha!”

 He held up the prized possession of a squashed pack of cigarettes to the sun that beamed through the window. His ears were met with a resounding silence, as he was home alone and it was just him at his trailer. 

 Throwing on a jacket and some jeans, he made his way outside, glancing at the clock and reading that it was only 8:30 am. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if someone called the cops just having seen him up this early. A pop came from his knees as he sat down on the hard metal doorstep, face scrunching up in discomfort when the prongs poked at his ass through the denim of his worn down pants. 

 “Fucking, shouldn’t have invited him,” He continued to mutter under his breath, telling himself off as he ignited the smoke. 

 “Why was Steve at your house?” A sleep addled voice asked. He grunted in response before he made eye contact with none other than Max Mayfield; the ginger's arms were crossed tightly over her sleep shirt, her thick locks were wrapped in two braids, an accusatory smirk written across her freckled face. 

 “That’s none of your business, Red,” Eddie mumbled around the pale smoke that curled above his head and then promptly disappeared. A brow raised when he noticed the lack of cane or brace support being used by the girl that morning, the scars from the massive stitches on her legs looked calm today.

 “See, I think it is,” Max argued. He rolled his eyes while he stretched his back out, letting the notches of his spine decompress and crack satisfactorily. Next time, he would make sure to not let himself sleep in a twin bed with another full grown man. 

 “It was movie night. Robin and Steve stayed over. There, now shoo, let a grown man express his hangover alone,” Eddie explained, waving her away with a flick of his wrist. The girl scoffed at him and then trudged her slippered feet away from his trailer. 

 After his cigarette was finished, he stubbed it out on the rusted metal of the stairs and threw the butt toward his and Uncle Wayne’s ashtray. He had one foot in the door when the phone rang loudly, his headache from emotions and weed pulsed against his eyes. 

 “I’m coming, I’m coming,” He uttered out loud, picking the yellow stained phone off the receiver, “Hello?” 

 “Eddie!” A very awake and ecstatic Gareth called through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d be awake!” 

 “Yeah, well I am,” Eddie pressed fingers to his left eye where most of the pain from his headache was isolated. 

 “Dude, you sound rough,” Gareth supplied, he could almost see the face the boy’s face was making. 

 “Late night,” He heard a soft ‘ooh’ from his friend, assuming he had a date, “Not like that, you ass.” 

 “Pfft, if you say so. I was just calling to confirm practice at Jeff’s tonight?” Gareth asked. Eddie’s heart skipped a beat when he remembered his half asleep conversation with Steve, oh god, he’d invited the man to their show. 

 “Uhh, yep! Yeah! That sounds great, I’ve gotta go man!” Eddie rushed out, suddenly in a state of panic, “I’ll see you tonight.” 

 “Uh, you oka—” Before Gareth could finish whatever he was going to ask, Eddie slammed the phone onto the wall and rushed out his front door. 

 Dew collected and seeped through his socks, in his haste he had forgotten to slip on his sneakers. Luckily, he was just going across to his neighbors. He paused at the Mayfield's door and started smacking the flat of his palm on the plastic film. 

 “I’m coming, hold on,” Max yelled angrily, the teen opened the door with her toothbrush in her mouth and a robe on, “What, Munson?” 

 “I-uh,” He actually did not know what his plan was, his palms were sweaty as he tugged on his fingers and flickered his eyes around anxiously. 

 “Ugh, my mum’s not home, get your scrawny butt in here,” Max said, voice muffled by the toothpaste collecting in her mouth. 

 Curls fell in front of his eyes when he bowed in thanks, hopping through the door. Her place was dark, the natural light blocked out by heavy orange curtains and the tv playing some random cooking show. 

 “Hold on,” Max told him before she walked away to the bathroom to evacuate the spit and rinse her mouth out. 

 “It’s so dark in here!” Eddie yelled after her, peering around curiously. There were rice krispie wrappers piled on the coffee table where a steaming mug of something sat. 

 “Yeah, well, some of us don’t want to be watched by our neighbors,” Max said, shuffling back into the living room, “So, what do you want?” 

 “I’ve got a problem… I don’t really have anyone else to go to about it,” He finished lamely, gripping his upper forearm in a tight grasp. 

 One of Max’s eyebrows rose, a small smile perked up on her lips, “Is it Robin?” 

 Eddie almost laughed outwardly at her from the absurdity of that, yeah sure he and Robin had talked about being each other's beards before, but then they contemplated when they found someone who was interested, how would everyone else take the sudden break up. So he schooled his face and lied to his young friend, “Yes, I- I invited her to my show in a couple of weeks, now I’m freaking out.” 

 She clapped her hands together and made a happy noise, “Oh! This is so exciting!” 

 “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your hopes up, you’ll make yourself sick,” Eddie joked as he moved and slumped down into a brown chair with an ashtray next to it. 

 “Shut up. So, why are you mainly freaking out?” Her eyes widened as if she got it, “Are you worried about Steve? Because, honestly I would be.” 

 He bit his lip to hold back another bark of laughter, sure he’d lied, but she was just spinning a tale of her own at that point. A smile creased the corners of his mouth and he placed his left hand over it so she wouldn’t become suspicious. 

 “I-How do you get it across that you like someone without, how do I put this,” Eddie sat and thought for a moment, “Making sure they don’t get scared and think you're overstepping?” 

 Frowning at the question raised, did he even want to press this problem further? His mind brought back the hazy images of the night before. Steve had closed his eyes one moment, and then the jock’s head lulled to the side and landed on Eddie’s bare shoulder. That single touch had sent Eddie flying toward the sun. A fire pit burned across his cheeks, but it hadn’t stopped there. No, Steve had to make the situation even worse by curling into his side even more than he had been before. And the position they’d been in before held Eddie’s arm that was thrown over the couch up, making it fall and wrap around the other man’s middle. 

 Eddie just chalked it up to being high. He’d cuddled with Gareth before. There were also times at a get together at Steve’s with Nancy and Jonathan where he and Robin curled up together while they all watched a movie. So, it was totally fine—

 “Earth to Eddie,” Max dragged him out of thought, one hand waving in front of his face. 

 “Well, she’s coming to your show, yeah?” She asked. Eddie nodded wordlessly, stomach flipping when the girl's grin grew 3 sizes larger than it already was, “Sing her a song then.” 

 “Absolutely. Not.” Eddie stated harshly. Max threw her head back in laughter, pointing a mocking finger at him. 

 “No, you definitely should!” Max hurried out, sliding down the couch to sidle up next to him, “Like, if she likes it and understands the message, she’ll come after you! But if she doesn’t, then no worries and you can move on!” 

 Shit, the girl had a point.

 “And luckily, Robin’s not a blundering idiot. Ha!” Max keeled over and rushed out a truth Eddie didn’t want to hear, “At least you’re not trying to seduce Steve!” 

 The blood drained from his face, fiddling with the bare space where his rings usually sat. Max fixed him with a questioning gaze when he didn’t join in her laughter and then he saw it sink in, “Oh, you’re screwed.” 

 There had never been an instance in his life when someone had figured him out so quickly. Her face hardened, and she sat back slightly. 

 “I’m sorry, I’m going to go,” He rushed out, spinning around almost as in time with how much his mind was turning.

 “Eddie! Wait!” Max called after him, creaking coming from the couch as she got up from it. Still slower on her feet since Vecna, “You ass, I don’t have my brace, sit your ass back down in my stinky chair!” 

 “No, thank you!” He called over his shoulder, the door handle cold in his grip. 

 He went to yank it open but Max confessed something that stopped him dead in his tracks, “I like girls!” 

 Slowly, his hand fell limp from the handle. He turned his body back toward the teen, eyes wide and mouth agape. He was in his early twenties and he’d only told all but 3 people; Wayne, Robin and Gareth. And here was this girl who hardly knew him and she just came out to him selflessly, so she could help. Right then was another moment, where he saw how cowardice truly presented itself. 

 Eddie crept back into the living room and sat cautiously next to her, not too sure what to do. Should he hug her and tell her some shit lie about being gay in America? 

 “And boys, I like both. A lot.” 

 Now, that was new, his eyes widened, “People can do that?” 

 Max shrugged, “I don’t know, but that’s what I feel. So why would it matter?” 

 Eddie swallowed and bobbed his head, “Right, totally.” 

 “Now… What are we going to do with you and your oblivious cotton swab head of a crush?” Max sighed, wiggling herself deep into the couch once again. 

 “Me? I’m fine,” Eddie scrunched his face up and fixed her with a confused glare. 

 “You looked like a wet chihuahua shivering when I figured out the truth,” Max scoffed and stared at him with a knowing look. 

 He gawked at her and then shook his head in denial, “No way, not me.” 

 “Shut up, and let me help you,” Max scolded. 

 “Ugh, fine,” Eddie gave in, turning his body so he and Max were face to face. 

X

 An unknown amount of time passed, Eddie didn’t know what time it was, but the sun had gotten low in the time he and Max had sat, concocting a plan that would help Steve figure it out a bit more. It was heavily detailed and there were lots of disagreements, Max always winning because at the end of the day, Eddie knew she was right. 

 “...So, all you really have to do is find out what song, or band he’s listening to right now and cover them, maybe drop some hints while you ask him about it,” Max explained, a yellow note pad held in her hand. 

 “Fuck,” He cursed when after all those hours he finally checked his watch, “I’ve gotten run, but it sounds like a plan. Also, thanks for all your help, truly.” 

 Max smiled at him, for maybe the first time since he’d known her, it set him on edge, “No, don’t smile at me, kid, it’s weird.” 

 “What the shit, dude? I just took my entire day helping you!” Max stuttered, a blush spread over her cheeks and he immediately felt bad. 

 “No! You’ve got a very nice smile, I’m just not used to seeing it! That’s all, shit I’m so bad at this,” Eddie hid his face in his hands. 

 “You’re good, I’m just messing with you,” Her trademark smirk on her lips once again. Eddie leaned forward and ruffled her head. 

 “That’s better,” He lilted, chuckling when the girl swatted at his hand. 

 “Remember the plan!” She called after him as he once again that day ran for the door. 

 “Promise!” That being his last word to the girl before he ran over to his place to pack up his guitar and get in the van. Checking again, he realized he probably had just enough time to make a quick sandwich before he hit the road. 

 “Sorry for the wait, sweetheart,” Eddie crooned to his beautiful guitar that saved his ass in the Upside Down. 

 Sliding on his dried socks to the kitchen, he threw deli meat, sub buns and mayo and mustard. Peeking down at the crisper where some wilted lettuce sat neglected. He shook his head in disgust, not wanting to smell the off green. As fast as he could, he slapped together the sandwich, shoving it in his mouth and hiking the sling of his guitar case over his shoulder. 

 Banshee was parked out front precariously, the blue paint glinting in the sunset. He smiled and stumbled down to her exterior. Carefully, he slid his precious instrument into the back, surrounded by a bunch of blankets to keep it from sliding around. Eddie would’ve loved to watch himself rushing, he always felt like everything would go wrong when he was, and if it wasn’t happening to him, he’d be cackling away like a hyena. 

 But when he turned his key in the ignition and the engine spluttered and then crashed, he wanted to vanish into a thin veil of smoke. 

 “Fuck!” He smacked his hands on the steering wheel. Reigning his thoughts back down, he tried to think of anyone he could call, Gareth lived all the way on the other side of Hawkins and there was no way he’d be caught dead dragging his most prized possession out in public. Especially with Jason’s goons still out to get him, they’d mug him just to fuck up his life. 

 He checked his watch again and realized he had 20 minutes to be there, “Shit, shit, sh—Oh!” An idea spurred in his head, maybe a small Max lived on his shoulder now, because no way would he have thought of this on his own. 

 Grabbing his guitar and jogging back inside, booking it to the kitchen to search the junk cupboard. The smell of aging paper and old metal hit Eddie’s nose, and he waved at the dust that puffed out in his haste. Flipping things up and over, searching for the thick bindings of, “Aha! The phonebook!” 

 Flipping the pages open he scanned through the H’s, quickly finding Harrington. He was surprised when he saw their household was the only one living in Hawkins with that last name. 

 Chanting Steve’s home number under his breath, he ran back over to the phone and punched the digits in. As the phone line rang, a pit formed in his stomach, and a whole litany of awful what ifs plagued his mind; what if one of Steve’s parents answered? Did they know who he was? Would they hang up and not tell Steve?

 “Harrington residence, Steve speaking. How may I help you?” 

 Eddie let out the breath he was holding and chuckled at the formal greeting, “That’s an interesting way to answer the phone, Big Boy.” He palmed himself in the face when the nickname slipped out, not on purpose like the other times had been. 

 “Hello, Eddie,” Steve laughed, “To what do I owe the pleasure, you ju--” 

 “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you man, but my van’s dead, and I really need to get to band practice and I was just wondering if it was no issue, maybe you could, I don’t know. Do me a solid and drive me over there?” Eddie rushed out, cringing when he cut Steve off, but it was too late to stop. 

 “Huh, oh sure,” Steve stumbled through the phone. 

 “Could you also pick me up after? I’ll make it a short practice,” Eddie added before he fucked himself over. He did not want to end up sleeping on Gareth’s garage couch again, the last time the cushions had fucked his neck up for weeks. 

 “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right over,” Steve assured through the phone. And Eddie relaxed his shoulders. 

 “Thanks, Steve,” He almost whispered. 

 “Okay, I’m uh, coming over now!” Steve declared before he hung up the phone. 

 “Stupid,” Eddie grumbled at himself again, leaning his forehead onto the wood where the phone lived. 

X 

 Thoughts of earlier that morning and late last night ran in circles in his head; the soft feeling of Steve cradled in his arm on the couch and soft murmurs that made him crack his eye open just to make sure the jock was okay in the middle of the night, if someone allowed it he could go on about it forever. He bounced his knee to expel some of his pent up nerves, while he waited for Steve to pull up in that stupidly beautiful BMW. As if on cue, the very car turned into the trailer park, gravel crunching under the wheels and coming to a halt outside his home. 

 There was music muffled inside the car, Steve leaned forward and turned it down before he lifted a hand and waved Eddie in. A blush painted his cheeks, waving back and pointing to the back seat, then at his guitar. Carefully, he slid sweetheart onto the leather bench..

 “Hey,” Steve’s tone was soft, and Eddie pinched his eyes close while his heart swooped. 

 Anxiety vibrated off him as he slid down into the passenger seat. His armpits sweat against the confines of his leather jacket, the insides of the car warmer than he expected. His chest felt tight as he huffed out harshly, as though he’d been running for the last 10 minutes. Steve hummed along to the song that lilted out of the speakers softly, his deft fingers tapped gently on the steering wheel. 

 “Thank you so much, you’re an absolute lifesaver,” Eddie greeted, eyes sliding over to Steve so he could watch the jock closely. The quirk of that flirtatious grin picked up at the corners of Steve’s mouth, but there was something deeper about it, like the thank you meant more to the man than he was letting on. 

 “Yeah, of course, dude. Least I can do. Thanks for letting me crash last night,” Steve laughed, ducking his head in embarrassment. Eddie recognized it to be that charming, shy way he’d witnessed the man do when he was talking to Nancy last March in the Winnebago. 

 “My pleasure, Harrington,” Eddie drawled, finding comfort in the car's darkness. Freddie Mercury’s voice wafted in the enclosed space. That intrigued him, he wasn’t an avid Queen listener but he could recognise that voice anywhere.

 Steve hummed along mindlessly, Eddie tapped along to the bass beat. He opened his mouth to compliment Steve on his less awful choice of music but was cut off by the soft sound of Steve singing; 

‘You masquerade, you're the catch of the season every night and day,’

 Eddie almost choked on the air, blushing furiously and staring straight ahead so the jock wouldn’t be able to see his shocked face. 

‘You you you don't have any time for me

You just keep foolin' around with me,’

 The lyrics were pointing and laughing at him. This man had shown no interest in him, and yet here was plotting with a 15-year-old girl how to subtly get him to pick up on the signals he accidentally puts out when they hung out. He chanced a peek out of the corner of his eye and blushed, which he didn’t think was possible when he saw Steve’s little smile and wave of his head. 

 “So, ahem, you do like actual music then?” Eddie deepened his voice and schooled his face into one that he hoped was collected and cool. 

 Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning onto the road, Eddie had directed him too, “Shut up, you’re just upset you can’t listen to whatever you want and not caring what people think about it.” 

 "Oh, trust me, people care, Stevie baby,” Eddie laughed, continuing to poke fun at the man who just rolled his eyes and turned up the music, “Some people only make fun of your music taste. And by some people, I mean me, I do.” 

 “You’re an asshole,” Steve cawed, as he drummed into the chorus of the next song on the cassette. 

 “Oh, shit. That’s the house,” Eddie pointed out, causing Steve to slam on the brakes. 

 “You’ve got my phone number to call me to come get you, yeah?” Steve asked, brow raised in question as those eyes gazed into his own. 

 Heart beating hard under his scarred chest, Eddie gulped and forced a huge grin on his face, showing Steve his number scrawled onto his hand, “You bet.” Winking awkwardly at Steve, who ducked his head bashfully again. 

 “Cool, see ya later, man,” Steve cleared his throat and then put both hands back on the wheel and got ready to drive away. 

‘I wanna be your kind of lover, give a little bit of feeling,’

 The BMW cruised away, leaving Eddie lost in thought in the middle of the road as the last lyrics of the song he’d heard replayed in his mind. After a beat of Freddie’s voice echoing against his skull, a light bulb went off as he got an idea, a huge grin spreading over his lips. 

 “Eddie?” Gareth’s confused voice called out from the open garage. The senior stood there waiting for Eddie to rush over. 

 “Shit, hey man, sorry. Banshee died on me,” Eddie explained, skidding to a halt inside with his friends. 

 “No worries, dude, we were just a bit…” Gareth’s eyes flickered to the two other members of Corroded Coffin, “...worried.”

 “Shit, sorry,” His brows turned upward in guilt. 

 “Well, nothin’ happened, so it’s behind us!” Jeff clapped, all of them nodded as they took in each other for the first time in months. Not usually practicing until right before the gig, so they won’t tire of the songs. 

 “So, we’ve got the whole setlist figured out, except for the cover song,” Gareth handed Eddie a folded piece of paper with pen scribbled names of their songs. He nodded along in agreement and then smiled at them with a crazed glint in his eye. 

 “I’ve got that covered, I’ll bring the sheet music next week. Let's just focus on this for now,” Eddie reassured his friends, unpacking his guitar and throwing the strand over his neck, “Shall we, boys?” 

 And with a couple of thundering hits from Gareth on the drums, they flowed into the first song easily. 

X

 Two weeks passed, and Eddie’s armpits reeked of nervous sweat. Jeff wrinkled his nose at him while the band hauled all their shit into the green room of the Hideout, which was just a cramped office off the side of the bar. There weren’t many people at the venue and that made him even more anxious. What if it was so isolated that the performance was stilted and weird.

 Jeff noticed his nervous fidgeting and raised a curious brow at him, “What’s got your knickers in a knot?” 

 “Huh? Oh, no I’m good,” Eddie replied, eyes flickering to the entrance then scanning the room. 

 “Sure, buddy,” Jeff said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Gareth smacked the other man’s chest in a warning before placing his drum equipment down gently. 

 “What?” Jeff splayed his hands out in question, provoking Gareth. 

 Eddie left the two to squabble and wandered outside to have a pre-show smoke—He knew Tristan would tell him off if he’d mentioned what he was doing, but in that moment it was probably going to be the only thing that would calm his fried nerves. 

 Breaching the doors out into the Spring air, Eddie had one hand down in the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out his squashed pack. The lighter clicked as he flicked it on, inhaling deep to ignite the end of the cigarette. Curiously, he checked left and right to keep an eye out for any more people arriving for the show. 

 “Keeping that all to yourself?” An unfamiliar voice said from his left. Eddie jumped and turned to capture whoever was talking to him. 

 There was a tall blond man who was leaning against the door with a smirk painted on his hairy face. He raised an eyebrow and kept his mouth shut around his smoke; the guy didn’t seem very thrilled by his disinterest. 

 “Never mind, jeez,” The man said, before pushing off the wall and thundering through the door of The Hideout. 

 “—The fuck,” Eddie wondered aloud, eyes wide with bewilderment as he took the smoke out of his mouth so he could stub it out with his boot. 

 Eddie reached for the grimy brass knob of the black painted door, some of the brown wood showed through from where it was chipping away. Before he could swing it open and breach the inside, a friendly honk sounded out behind him. He swiveled around with a huge grin on his face. Sure enough, packed into Jonathan Byers’ Ford Galaxie was Nancy Wheeler, Robin and the person he was so eager to see, Steve. Jon gave him a two finger salute as he continued his way forward to find parking. 

 He wrung his hands out, the bands of the rings on his fingers dug into his knuckles. Everything was fine, Steve AND Nancy were here—at his show—about to watch him play and sing. Robin and Jon had both swung by at some point when Corroded Coffin started up again. It had pleasantly surprised him when Jon showed up, explaining that he’d seen the post up at Cassettes and Things, which was their barren record shop. Most of the tapes and vinyl's there were hand-me downs from people’s dead grandparents. 

 But Nancy had never came along, which he was fine with. There was no reason for her to want to, Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly Wheeler friendly, and he knew that from the way Mike tended to wrinkle his nose every time Eddie tried to play his music louder in the van or after D&D when they were cleaning up. 

 Tapping his foot anxiously against the pavement waiting for his friends, he felt the sudden urge to throw up, but he pushed it down. Not needing to feed the apparent beast that was hungering for his impending embarrassment. 

 “Hey, man,” Jon greeted, hand reaching out to clap and grasp Eddie’s. He grinned and gladly responded to the notion. 

“Glad you could make it,” Eddie said before his eyes left the stoner’s and scanned Nancy, the girl was dressed in a nice black dress with a long sleeve white shirt underneath, clearly these people had no sense of how to dress for a metal show, “Wheeler, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

 She chuckled softly and ducked her head, arms looped underneath the jacket she had for later, “Don’t let it get to your head, I’m just here to make sure these airheads make it home alright.” 

 He bobbed his head in understanding, eyes flickering over to where Robin and Steve were. Robin was fussing over something that supposedly was on Steve’s lapel. 

 “Get off, Robin, it’s fine!” Steve crowed, pushing the grabbing hands of his friend. And, oh man, did he look good. Again, none of these normies knew at all how to dress for a metal show, but he was just happy Steve for once in his life ditched the polo shirts and instead a choppy cut Boston crop top, exposing his torso only a smidge before that was cut off by the tight hug from a pair of gray denim jeans. He felt faint of the sight of even a bit of lax, laid back on Steve. One that didn’t care so much about his appearance… so close to how he’d seen the jock in the Upside Down, only this time he wasn’t covered in blood and wearing Eddie’s battle vest. No, unfortunately Steve was not. 

 “So, whose clothes did you steal this time, Steve?” Eddie drawled, the pit that had formed in his stomach minutes before eased when Steve’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. 

 “Huh, what? No,” Steve spluttered, looking at Robin with wide eyes. 

 The girl shrugged and leaned forward to wipe a spot on the front of his jeans. Eddie almost felt jealous, but then remembered that very important detail he knew about Robin. 

 “They’re mine. And he got Pringle dust all over the pants,” Robin whined, trying her best to wipe away the chip remnants. Steve once again pushed her hands away with his own, an embarrassed smile plastered on his face. 

 “Robin’s?! How in the world did you fit into those jeans?” Eddie asked incredulously, leaning to the side to check Steve out openly. Mentally fist bumped himself by the squeamish look that crossed over Steve’s features.

 Like clockwork, Gareth poked his head out of the door, brows scrunched in confusion, and then smiling when he saw Eddie outside. 

 “Eddie, hey man, we’re uh—” The drummer’s eyes widened when they landed on the eclectic group of normal people he knew from high school, “We’re, ready to set up.” 

 “I’ll be down in a second,” Eddie explained, his friend nodding and taking one last look at Eddie’s 3 other friends before disappearing back into the Hide Out. 

 “Well,” He clapped, palms sweating and that pit hardened uncomfortably, “I’ve gotta get back in there. Don’t be nervous and they don’t check IDs.” 

 And with those words left standing for them, Eddie all but threw himself back into the venue. Holy shit, this was really happening, he was about to make a goddamn fool of himself on this tiny stage in Hawkins Indiana and there was no damn way he could back out now. 

X

 While Jeff, Gareth, and Tristan tested their own instruments, Eddie fumbled his way through the scribbled lyrics of the song he’d chosen. It was a song aggressively removed from what the band usually played, Corroded Coffin’s sound verged on black metal the more the band wrote and discussed where they wanted to go. He was the most nervous that people would be upset by the sudden change up, luckily it was the last song though. 

 “Alright, you guys just about ready?” A buff man wearing a black battle vest with patches sewn in all over it asked, his hair slicked back with so much gel that it glistened off in the bar's darkened belly. His name was Diablo, and he was the one who let them do their first show here, and stood by him when he came back after the murder accusations and still let him play. Eddie’s expression hardened, and he nodded, his friends throwing up a few distracted sign of the horns.

 “Great,” The man grunted as he stepped up to the mic, waving at them to get sorted (and seated in Gareth’s case). 

 Eddie shuffled foot to foot in uneasiness, watching Diablo introduce himself to the patrons, the music cutting and an excited hum hovering in the crowd. 

 “Now, you know the rules, moshing is fun but if you bleed, you’re out,” Diablo declared, a beefed up hand held out pointing to some poor schmuck in the crowd. 

 Eddie’s eyes scanned the back in search of his friends but was out of luck, the spotlight obscuring his sight. 

 “This is a band I’d like to continue supporting. So, any assholes can shut the fuck up and sit down, you’re in my bar and I’ll put on whoever I damn please,” Diablo looked out into the audience with a fierce look, “And, without further ado, Corroded Coffin.” 

 There was awkward applause Eddie could only assume was from Robin or Nancy. Jon knew the way around a dingy bar show and Steve was too uncomfortable all the time to make a mistake that big. 

 “Good luck, kid,” Diablo whispered in his ear while he passed him on the stage, one of those enormous paws landed heavily on his shoulder. 

 “Thanks, man,” Eddie shot back, shouldering his guitar and stomping up to the mic. He gulped down any fear that had crept up from the tar ball of anxiety that sat heavy in his stomach; if he could face off a cauldron of Demobats and also sacrifice himself to those tiny, gnashing mouths, he could perform in front of fucking Steve Harrington. 

 “The devil… has come to Hawkins,” He spoke deep into the mic, voice reverberating through the floor and seeping into the crowd. With a flick of his wrist, he motioned for Gareth to start. 

 Adrenaline pumped through Eddie’s veins after the first two songs. The mosh pit came to a slow stop, some people still shoving and moving in jerking moves. Sweat dripped down his arms and made the leather sleeves of his jacket rub against the hair there. Right before their last song, he made a timeout signal with his hands. Eddie’s guitar made a whiny twang as he pulled her off his shoulders so he could shuck off the jacket. Some women hollered when his Iron Maiden crop top was revealed, it sat just shy of exposing his entire chest and his treasure trail was on full display. His low-rise black pants hugged his hips in such a way, a small glint of hope sat in his heart that a certain someone would notice. 

 “Heads up guys, this next song is a cover. Please give us the benefit of the doubt, though. Sometimes we just need to let these feelings out, y’know,” Eddie mumbled into the mic, eyes cast down into the sea of people who all stared up at him expectantly. 

 Inhaling a deep breath, Eddie slung his guitar back over his neck and wailed on her, to rile up the crowd once more. He grinned as the mosher's pushed back and forth again. After a few more screams from his guitar, he transitioned into the first chords of the song. 

 Gareth smashed the drums, which was Eddie’s cue, so he let his voice growl into the mic; 

‘You got me runnin' baby

You give me somethin' way beyond revenue,’

 The mosher's stopped but still stayed, enjoying Eddie’s vocals and the bands' more intense take of the Billy Squier song. Some women pushed their way up to the front of the stage, he played into it. Leaning forward so his curls hung around his neck, chains clinking against the mic as he played up the flirtatious act. 

 Goosebumps flushed up his arms when he saw the flash of Robin’s pixie face off to his right. Stomping his foot on top of the amp next to him, he turned his body toward where Steve had moved to. Robin was pressed to the man’s side and both of them stared at him with glassy eyes. 

 Eddie winked down at the two of them and moved his head in a snake-like motion, a wicked grin slipped onto his lips; 

‘When you come 'round I never get down, I fly across the floor

I can see you comin' on me and I can't ask for more,’

In quick succession, Eddie jumped down from the stage and let the audience part as he sauntered over to Robin and played it up in her face; 

‘You got my motor racin', I find my thoughts embracin' your every move,’

He broke the song briefly to chuckle low as Robin blushed furiously, Steve pointing and laughing at her. That didn’t last long though, Eddie fixed Steve with a pout before he licked his lips and all but growled the next couple of lines right in Steve’s face; 

‘I've been thinkin' 'bout you for so long, a nd I don't wanna lose you

You're my kinda lover,’

 Eddie swiveled away and missed Steve’s reaction, not wanting to spend too much time with his attention on the jock. Someone could notice the context clues before they were in a safe space, and a hate crime would be a shitty way to end his night. He hopped back onto the stage and made passing eye contact with Gareth, he just raised a curious brow at him and shook his fluffy head. 

 As he sang the rest of the song, he pounded his fist against the ground, amping up the dramatics as he repeated the lyrics, ‘my kinda lover’ . On the last one, he sat back on his feet, thighs on display for God and head thrown back in a very sinful portrait he hoped, sweat dripped down his back and onto the stage. The song came to a close, and he sat still in that position, chest heaving and eyes closed. 

 There was a beat of silence and then an uproar of applause, people shouted again and other slurries of words he couldn’t understand. But Eddie got the message, he nodded at Gareth who understood the message, starting up a heavy song they’d written the summer of ‘86. 

 Tristan and Jeff followed suit once they realized which song it was, hammering it out for the wanting crowd. The mosh pit started again, and that time around, Steve stayed off on the outskirts, but closer to the stage. Eyes wide with something Eddie couldn’t read, and damn, he wanted to know. Wanted to lose himself in the sea of hazel eyes and flirtatious teasing, allow Steve to take him however he wanted. 

 Corroded Coffin’s set closed out, Eddie never minded playing first, it always meant he could enjoy the music afterward. In quick succession, they lugged all their equipment off so the next band could start setting up. 

 All he wanted to do once his guitar was locked up in the back of his van was find Steve, but he knew that would be too obvious, so instead he followed his bandmates to the bar where Diablo poured them two shots of vodka each, on the house the bartender had said with a massive grin plastered on his sweaty face. 

 The vodka hit Eddie’s empty stomach, making him feel woozy as it burned away at the pit of nerves that had been sitting there all week. 

 “Eddie!” Robin’s ecstatic voice yelled out over the buzzing crowd, he turned to meet her with open arms and a hazy grin. 

 “Robbie, be honest, was it as good as last time!?” He asked, trying to keep his gaze on hers as he noticed Steve following closely on the girl’s heel. 

 “Amazing, as always!” Robin gushed, pulling away and waving a small hello to the rest of the band. 

 Steve was carrying a full pint, eyes reflecting the lights almost like they were shining like a beacon for Eddie, but he had a huge smile plastered on his lips. Eddie sidled up to him and threw a casual arm around his neck. He ignored the stiff response of Steve’s shoulders.

 “Well, Harrington, what d'ya think?” Eddie drawled, lips brushing the outside of Steve’s flushed warm ear. 

 Steve coughed lightly, like there was a twig caught in his throat, facial expression hidden in the dark, “It, it was great!” 

 “Huh, cat got your tongue, Harrington?” The post performance adrenaline and a small amount of liquid courage fueled Eddie as he pushed his way into Steve’s space, looking at him through his eyelashes. 

 Something curious happened visible to Steve, and Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as the jock returned the grin with his signature look down, a chuckle and then flickering his wide hazel eyes back up to meet Eddie’s, the hand not occupied with his beer landing on his cocked hip, those damn jeans hugged his waist in a tight embrace and it made Eddie’s throat dry up like a desert. 

 “No, just maybe curious about who the lucky lady you were singing about is,” Steve explained, but something told Eddie that the plan he and Max concocted had worked. 

 “You don’t know her,” Eddie supplied, leaning back against the bar casually, not breaking eye contact with Steve. 

 “Is she here tonight?” Nancy asked, surprising Eddie out of his tunnel vision and reminding him he was, in fact, flirting with Steve openly in front of all their friends. 

 “She is,” Eddie nodded, eyes still locked with Steve’s, trying to read him as he straightened his spine, which made him appear just half an inch taller than Eddie. 

 Steve broke their tethered staring contest, eyes scanning the people meandering and trying to find some imaginary girl Eddie had made up, the jock pointed secretly at a girl with long teased curls and her torso pale shining out against her all black getup, “Is it her?” 

 Mentally, Eddie slapped his forehead, forgetting that Steve was oblivious and just because they were flirting doesn’t mean he’s aware of it and Eddie probably still had to push him off the edge. Images of how he could convey to this man that he was the one the song was about made his brain ache. 

 “Nope! Well, I’m going out for a smoke,” Eddie clapped. Turning around and signaling to Diablo he’d like another shot, if he was going to make any insinuation, he needed a bit more bravery that wasn’t conjured from his adrenaline, from past shows he knew it wouldn’t last very long. 

 Pouring the shot back, he felt Steve watching him closely, just the thought that Steve was checking him out gave him goosebumps. He shook his curly head as the awful liquid slipped down his throat, leaving the awful burn it always did. Turning and clapping Gareth on the shoulder, the younger man gave him a knowing look and eyes flickering briefly to Steve with a grin on his mischievous face. 

 Eddie pursed his lips and tried to telekinetically explain not to fuck with the fine bridge he was building, and that he would explain later. However, it was hard to convey in one measly glance. 

 Sauntering away from his friends and letting his exposed bicep brush Steve on his way out. The area on his bicep burned from the one faint touch. Once he knew he wasn’t in eye sight, he took the stairs two at a time, mouth open in a silent scream. Fuck, he was horrible at this.

 Outside was cool, a small Spring breeze passed over his bare skin and dried out his sweat. It was refreshing, and cleared his frazzled mind. Igniting the cigarette he took out of his pocket, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs and throwing his head back to gaze longingly up at the stars. There was a crowd of other people all smoking, chatting amongst themselves, laughing and some rough housing from the mosh pit still, but he knew they’d all retreat inside soon because the next band was about to play. Throwing a smile their way and then retreating around the corner, not wanting any of them to come over and talk with him. 

 He was pathetic, just a love sick guy who couldn’t have what he wanted. It would always be like this probably, he’d grow old and live with a bunch of cats, never having left he and Uncle Wayne’s trailer and—His self deprecating thoughts of loneliness of being gay in a small hick town were interrupted by the scuff of sneakers on the cement behind him.

 “Mind sharing that?” Steve’s voice filled the steady hum of a vent that was keeping Eddie company. The scene reminded him of when that other guy from earlier had asked to share and Eddie had all but ignored him, this however was Steve. This was who he'd been waiting for. That's all they needed, a cigarette, cheapest date he'd ever been on he thought. 

 “Sure, Harrington,” Eddie grinned, passing off the cigarette so Steve could take it with his outstretched hand. Eddie leaned back, shivering when his bare skin pressed against the brick wall. He eyed Steve warily, watching the way his pink lips wrapped around the orange end of the filter, the smoke creeping out of the corners of his mouth before he exhaled it into the night sky. 

 “Is she scary?” Steve asked, leaning in close to Eddie as he dragged a couple more puffs from the cigarette. Eddie’s brows scrunched, what was he talking about? Oh, the imaginary girl he’d told the crew about. 

 “Yeah, she’s scary all right,” Eddie grinned, heart pounding in his chest smacking his forehead over and over, wishing that this was going to be easier. Hoping that his heart wouldn’t have to be broken in order to confess his feelings. 

 “It’s a shame really,” Steve whispered, neck extended and eyes searching the night for something. The day that Eddie found answers on Steve’s face when he stared at him longingly would be an exuberant and profound day. 

 “What’s a shame?” Eddie smirked, crossing his arms and obscuring the image of the album Master of Puppets. He watched Steve’s Adam's apple bob as the man swallowed nervously, his hand around a loose thread on the Boston shirt Robin had hastily cut for him. 

 Steve scratched the back of his head, suddenly all of the jock's confidence drained from his aura and he was left to suspiciously peek over his shoulder as if to make sure they had some privacy. Eddie breathed heavily, his heart sped up and hammered away uncomfortably against his ribcage. 

 “I was… just hoping, well,” Steve stuttered, voice dropping to a whisper, “That I wasn’t reading into things wrong?”

 “You’re going to have to spell whatever you’re talking out for me, big boy,” Eddie breathed, was this it, was this the moment he’d only dreamed of? 

 “Maybe you were singing about…” Steve dropped his head down and chuckled low and self-deprecatingly, “Well, about me.”

 Stuttering heart beats faded to nothing as his heart skipped a beat. The big confession, Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink and if it wasn’t springtime, Eddie was sure the man would’ve been sweating profusely. And after all of his chaotic thoughts over the last couple of weeks the only sound that he made was a devilish chuckle. 

 “Damn, Mayfield was right,” He said, fixing Steve with an emotional stare. 

 Those perfect brows scrunched in confusion and Eddie wanted to kiss the look right off of Steve’s face, “Max? What?” 

 “She may have, uh… helped me plan this,” Eddie trailed off, wringing out his fingers and tapping his boot on the concrete. 

 “You, wait what?!” Steve blurted out, a goofy smile spread onto his plush lips. Eddie's heart fluttered, opening his mouth to respond and being so rudely interrupted by the sound of mocking bird, none other than Robin Buckley

 “Steve! We’re… uh, heading out! Nance has to work early tomorrow morning!” Robin was clearly tipsy as she hollered behind them. Steve swirled around and stuttered out incomprehensible words. 

 Eddie ducked his head, feeling the great sorrow of having to wait even longer, but if he’d been able to stick around for this long, one more night would not hurt him. 

“Hold on,” Steve growled out, jogging over to where his friends were standing and waiting for him. Eddie waved at the group, squashing his long forgotten cigarette under his shoe. Robin’s grin was wicked, mouthing something at him that he couldn’t understand. 

 Scrunching his face at her, he raised his hands in question and shook his head, trying to explain he did not know what she was trying to convey. The girl rolled her eyes and waved, calling out a goodbye to him. 

 Steve’s side profile was illuminated by a streetlamp above, the orange light really worked for him, especially with the crop top and sweater tied around his scarred hips. He talked to Robin, hands waving around as he tried to weasel his way into staying, Eddie assumed. While the metalhead took his time admiring Steve, he jumped when the man was back standing in front of him, his large warm hands resting on his shoulders and pulling Eddie into a hug. 

 “Wait for me?” Steve whispered, a shiver ran down Eddie’s spine at his words and all he could do in response was nod. 

 And with that, Steve jogged back over to Nancy and the others, turning around as they walked away to wave at him until the group was no longer in sight. Once he truly knew they weren’t coming back, Eddie rolled against the wall and knocked his forehead against the hard brick. 

 “Stupid, I am so stupid.” He muttered into the night, Steve once again leaving him in the dust to wallow in a deep pool of anxiety.